Title: Turkish Literature; Comprising Fables, Belles-lettres, and Sacred Traditions
Translator: Epiphanius Wilson
Robert Arnot
Elias John Wilkinson Gibb
Freiherr von Joseph Hammer-Purgstall
Abel Pavet de Courteille
Release date: January 30, 2018 [eBook #56464]
Most recently updated: January 24, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
The World’s Greatest Literature
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Sword Dance in a Café
Photogravure from the original painting by Jean Léon Gérôme, exhibited in the Paris Salon, 1888
THIS fine picture is a thoroughly characteristic specimen of the work of the most popular of modern French artists. Oriental subjects especially attracted him, as he had an eye for striking figures and brilliant colors. He died January 10, 1904.
COMPRISING
FABLES, BELLES-LETTRES, AND SACRED TRADITIONS
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH FOR THE FIRST TIME
WITH A SPECIAL INTRODUCTION BY
EPIPHANIUS WILSON, A.M.
REVISED EDITION
NEW YORK
P. F. COLLIER & SON
| CONTENTS |
[iii]
Copyright,
1901 By THE COLONIAL PRESS
THE national literature of Turkey is something with which the European and American mind is by no means familiar, and, indeed, it has only recently become a distinctive feature in the world’s intellectual activity. Turkey is really an oriental country transplanted into a European environment, and the truest affinities of Turkey are with the far East, with Arabia and Persia. There are at least twenty-five written languages used in the Ottoman Empire, and Turkish is sometimes written in Arabian, sometimes in Persian characters, yet in spite of the babel of tongues which is found at Constantinople, the strong individuality of the Turk has manifested itself in literature as it has in politics and government, and there exists a considerable amount of epic and lyric poetry, drama, romance and apologue which is neither Arabian nor Persian, but is racy of the soil, the soil being principally that of Constantinople, where the Sultans, up to the present time, have been eminent patrons of the literary craft; some of them, Sultan Mustapha, for instance, in the sixteenth century, being writers of no mean accomplishments.
It is usual to divide the history of Turkish literature into three periods. The primitive literature of Turkey flourished between the years 1301 and 1520, during which time the Persian influence was paramount in the romantic and mystic productions of the Ottoman poets. The Shah-Nameh furnished many of the heroes to these Ottoman romances, and the forms of versification are all borrowed from Iran. “The Divan” and “History of the Forty Vezirs” belong to this period.
The middle period of Ottoman literature extends from 1520 to 1730. This is sometimes called the classic period, because in it the capabilities of the genuine Turkish language were tested, developed, and fixed. It opened with the reign of Suleyman I, whose splendid achievements, as a warrior by land and sea, won[iv] him the name of the Brilliant. The general history of literature teaches us that national triumph in war always gives a stimulus to national literature, and accordingly this era is adorned by the works of Fasli, and of a host of other poets, whose productions will be found represented in the translations contained in the present volume.
The third period of Ottoman literature shows the Turkish writers under the influence of European models, but ending at last in Drama, essentially the comedy of manners, and not of European, but of Turkish manners. The plays of Mirza Feth-Ali Akhoud-Zaidé, of one of which we publish a translation in this volume, reflect domestic, forensic, and official life at Constantinople during the last century as truly as those of Molière reflect the speech and manners of Parisian society as they existed in the reign of le grand monarque. The last development of literary activity at Constantinople is shown not only by the developments of the drama, but by the vigor displayed in the domain of journalism.
The Ottoman poems, of which we give the only English translation extant, that by E. J. W. Gibb, reveal the high rank taken by Turkish verse in the poesy of the East. The Turkish metres were many and varied, and the flexibility of the language lent itself to intricate forms of composition. In imagination and passion these Ottoman poems will hold their own in any company.
“The Rose and the Nightingale” of Fasli, which has been for the first time translated into English in the present volume, is the elaboration of an ancient Persian myth with regard to the loves of Gul and Bulbul. There are numberless allusions to this beautiful fable in such works as “The Divan” of Hafiz, as for instance where he says:
The author of this Turkish poem, Mohammed Fasli, “Black Fasli,” as he was called from his swarthy complexion, was the son of a saddler of Constantinople, and early became a pupil of the poet Sati. He soon attracted the attention of the Court, and was made secretary to the Divan by Prince Mustapha, who, as we have seen, was himself a poet. Fasli wrote several poems of[v] the same character as the present one, which is, however, his best and ripest production. He died in 1563.
“The Rose and the Nightingale” is a brilliant and gorgeous example of oriental poetry, whose charm is rather increased than diminished by the repetition and prolixity which characterize it. The poet gives it in his closing passages a profoundly mystical meaning, which has been so far developed by other writers that an Armenian Christian author says that the Springtime of Fasli means the Creation, the Rose is Christ, the Rose-garden the Church, the Brook is Baptism, the South Wind is the Inspiration of the Gospel, the Nightingale, the Soul full of ardent faith, and so on. This reminds one of Pico Mirandola reconciling Moses and Homer.
The drama, “The Magistrates,” which is here for the first time translated into English, is the work of Mirza Feth-Ali Akhoud-Zaidé. He is the most original native dramatist whose works have appeared in Constantinople. Up to a comparatively recent period the theatres of Turkey were dependent for their comedies on translations from French, sometimes even from German or English comedies and farces. The Turk is fond of witnessing the exertions, the excitements and perturbations of others, while he himself remains indolent and imperturbable; hence his passion for story-telling and for the representations of the stage. In the dramas of Feth-Ali he sees the life of Turkey vividly reproduced. Love rules the scene, Eastern cruelty comes in with the bastinado, Eastern duplicity and fraud are vividly portrayed in the law-court scene. The arrangement and development of the play are good, and the dénouement is natural and satisfactory.
This will appear from the following analysis of “The Magistrates.” In the first place, the modern playwright will be astonished by the long list of personages in the play. There are twenty-seven in a short drama, consisting of a series of scenes, brief, even to jerkiness.
At the opening of the play we learn that Hadji-Ghafour, a rich merchant, has lately died and left no will; his property is therefore claimed by Sekine-Khanoum, his only daughter, a girl of eighteen, who is engaged to marry Aziz-Bey. The sum of money in which the legacy consists has been placed in the hands of the President of the Council, but before he can pay it[vi] over to the legatee, claims have been set up in favor of an alleged child of the late Hadji-Ghafour, borne him by his mistress Zeneib. A conspiracy is formed, with the aid of certain soldiers who are suborned to say that they saw the child in Hadji-Ghafour’s arms, and that he acknowledged the paternity. The complications are increased by the fact that Zobeide, paternal aunt of Sekine-Khanoun, has promised the hand of her niece to a richer man than Aziz-Bey, namely, Aga-Hassan, a merchant. The young lady so enrages Hassan by the terms in which she repudiates him, that he joins the ranks of the conspirators, among whom the chief is Aga-Selman, who nevertheless has undertaken to be the advocate of Sekine-Khanoun in the coming lawsuit. The suit at last is opened, the witnesses come ready primed to the bar, but, instead of telling their perjured tale, relate how they were induced to promise their support to a fabrication. The tortuous diplomacy of Aga-Selman, the corruption of the judges, the despair of Sekine and Aziz are depicted in the liveliest manner, and the revelations of the soldiers, who are called by the false advocate as witnesses for Sekine-Khanoun, but bribed to testify against her, form a double climax which is a skilful stroke of dramatic art. The play will be interesting to the Teutonic reader, and seems even capable of adaptation to the American or English stage.
“The History of the Forty Vezirs” is evidently a collection of very old stories. Its compilation is attributed to Sheik-Zada, who lived in the reign of Murad II, 1421-1451. To this Sultan the tales are dedicated. They are like all oriental tales, barely tinged with any ethical significance; they aim principally at amusing and distracting the mind by a series of quickly changing incidents; there is no attempt at character-drawing, and an amazing element of the improbable spices the whole series. They form, however, the most notable work in prose produced in that period which saw the dawn of a Turkish literature, and are only inferior to the tales of Pilpay and the Hitopadesa in their frivolity, exaggeration and evident lack of all those features which would indicate an earnest and conscientious study of real life. They are none the less entertaining, and their genuine Turkish characteristics render them valuable to the student of Ottoman literature as well as to the general reader who may take them up merely pour passer le temps.[vii]
The fables by unknown authors, which we include in this volume, and which have never before been translated into English, are much later productions of Turkish genius. In Europe the fable has always been, in its original form, one of the most effective and pungent vehicles of appeal to public opinion. Witness “The Belly and the Members” of Menenius Agrippa, so nobly rendered in Shakespeare’s “Coriolanus.” It well illustrates La Fontaine’s excuse for his own fables, namely, that under some circumstances a man must be silent or “strike from afar.” From the vantage ground of the fable Menenius could rebuke a raging mob, and Le Fontaine score the ingratitude of kings, as in more recent times Krilof has satirized the despotic abuses of the Russian government.
The Turkish fables also “hit from afar.” The tyranny of Turkish rulers is pointed out in “The Farmer and His Hounds.” The corruption that surrounds access to the great is vividly suggested in “The Sailors in Distress.” But the weaknesses of the Turkish character are also reflected in fables which contain but little wisdom; the apathy which puts up with everything is expressed in the moral of “The Candle”; the want of enterprise and energy which is characteristic of the Turk, in “The Shark” and “The Clown Turned First Soldier, then Merchant.”
In the teachings of all these apologues there may be seen the same features of languid and unresisting acquiescence in things as they are, with a skit here and there on the oppression and ingratitude of those in power. Yet they bear a reality about them which is lacking in the artificial productions of Gay and Lessing. They come from the heart and go to the heart of the people, and some of them are neat and pointed, if not beautiful, in structure and expression. A collection of examples from Turkish literature would be quite incomplete without these specimens of the Turkish apologues, which reflect so plainly the ethical standard and general opinions of those to whom they were addressed.
![[Signed: Epiphanius Wilson.]](images/wilson.png)
[Translated by Epiphanius Wilson, A.M.]
A CERTAIN Gardener had a young and pretty woman for his Wife. One day, when, according to her habit, she had gone to wash her linen in the river, the Gardener, entering his house, said to himself:
“I do not know, really, whether my Wife loves me. I must put it to the test.”
On saying this, he stretched himself full length upon the ground, in the middle of the room, as if dead. Soon, his Wife returned, carrying her linen, and perceived her husband’s condition.
“Tired and hungry as I am,” she said to herself, “is it necessary that I should begin at once to mourn and lament? Would it not be better to begin by eating a morsel of something?”
She accordingly cut off a piece of pasterma (dried smoked meat), and set it to roast on the coals; then she hurriedly went upstairs to the garret, took a pot of milk, drank some of it, and put the rest on the fire. At this moment, an old woman, her neighbor, entered, with an earthen vessel in her hand, and asked for some burning coals.
“Keep your eye on this pot,” she said to the old woman, rising to her feet. Then she burst into sobs and lamentations.
“Alas!” she cried, “my poor husband is dead!”
The neighbors, who heard her voice, rushed in, and the deceitful hussy kept on repeating:
“Alas! What a wretched fate has my husband met with!” and tears flowed afresh.
At that instant the dead man opened his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he said to her. “Finish first the[4] roasting of the pasterma, quenching your throat in milk, and boiling the remainder of it; afterward you will find time to weep for me.”
First myself, and then those I love, says a proverb.
A Fly who had carelessly fallen into a pot full of food was at the point of death.
“What does it matter?” she said, “so long as hereafter I shall feel no more hunger, and for the present have eaten and drunk my fill, and have received a good bath.”
Patiently to accept the misfortunes which can neither be hindered nor avoided is a proof of wisdom.
A Widow, tired of single blessedness, was desirous of marrying again, but feared to draw down upon herself the remarks of the public.
A Friend of hers, to show her how the tongues of neighbors discussed everything, took in hand to paint the Widow’s ass green; then leading the beast, she traversed all the streets of the town.
At first not only the children, but also their elders, who had never seen anything like it before, came to see the sight, and followed behind the ass.
At the end of a few days, when the Widow’s ass went forth people simply remarked: “What a very singular animal!”
Soon, however, the people ceased to pay any more attention to the spectacle.
The Friend of the Widow who wished to marry again returned to her and said:
“You have seen what has just happened. It will be the same in your case. For some days you will be on the tongues of the people and have to endure the gossip and remarks; but at last they will leave off talking about you.”
There is nothing so extraordinary in the world as not to become familiar in time.[5]
Two Young Men entered a cook-shop for the purpose of buying some meat.
While the Cook was engaged in serving one of them the other seized a huge piece of meat and popped it into his companion’s pocket.
The Cook began looking about for his meat, but in vain. Then he addressed the two friends.
“I have not seen it,” said one.
“As for me,” added the other, “I am sure I have not taken it.”
Then each one confirmed his statement with an oath.
“Really, gentlemen,” said the owner of the shop, who well understood their rascality, “although I do not know who has robbed me, the God by whom you have sworn does.”
Although a man may conceal things from men like himself, God is not deceived.
A pair of Buffaloes were harnessed to a heavy piece of elm wood, and were dragging it along.
“You are stupid,” said the Log, reproachfully, “for when you are hitched to a light burden like me, why do you not gallop?”
“Poor wretch!” they replied, “we should doubtlessly move more quickly if we were not fastened to you. But if we moved quickly now, another log would be placed on top of you, to make up the load, and we do not wish to see you broken down by exhaustion.”
This answer plunged the Log into profound thought.
The proverbial expression—“the Buffaloes’ answer”—a pretext for laziness—is founded on this fable.
A feeble Old Man had given his home to his Son; soon the hapless father found himself driven from his home and forced to take refuge in a hospital.[6]
Some time afterward, he saw his Son one day passing by, and called out to him.
“For the love of God, my Son,” he said in a supplicating tone, “send me out of all that I have gained with the sweat of my brow a simple pair of sheets.”
The Son promised his unfortunate father to do so.
“I will send them at once,” he answered him.
When he arrived at home he said to his own son: “Take this pair of sheets, and carry them to your grandfather at the hospital.”
The young man left one of the sheets at home and carried the other to his grandfather. Some time afterward his father happened to count his sheets.
“Why didn’t you do as I told you, and carry the two sheets to your grandfather?” he asked of his son.
“When my father becomes old and goes to the hospital, I said to myself, I shall need this sheet to send to him.”
Your child will behave toward you as you behaved toward your parents.
A Bird-catcher was setting his snares; a Blackbird, as he flew by, caught sight of him.
“For the love of God,” he said to him, “do tell me what you are building there?”
“I am founding a complete city.”
The Blackbird believed this deceitful answer, and alighted on the net. Scarcely had he touched it, before he found himself caught.
When the Bird-catcher came up the Blackbird said to him: “If this is the way you build your city, you won’t attract many inhabitants.”
All men shun tyrannical magistrates and oppressors, who, by their violence, scatter ruin around them.
The Hens were at war with the Eagles.
When the day of battle came near, the Hens went and asked the foxes to help them.[7]
“We would willingly help you,” replied the foxes, “if we could forget what you are, and what Eagles are.”
He who enters upon a quarrel with one more powerful than himself runs a great risk, and is certain to meet with disaster.
A Pigeon in its simplicity took for real water the stream represented in a Painting.
He flew down toward it with a sudden swoop, fell to the ground, and was quickly caught.
How many stupid and ignorant people ignore the real condition of things, follow entirely their own silly notions, and at last find themselves in serious trouble!
A Lion and a Man were journeying together as friends; they took turns in boasting each of his own merits. As they advanced on their way, they saw a mausoleum on which was carved in marble a man trampling a lion under his feet.
The Man called the attention of the Lion to this sculpture.
“I need say no more,” he remarked, “this is sufficient to show that man surpasses the Lion in strength and vigor.”
“The chisel is in the hands of men,” replied the beast, “so they represent in sculpture whatever they like. If we could handle it as you do, you would see what would be the subjects of our works.”
Artists do not base their creations upon the realities of life, but follow the ideas which pass through their heads.
A Vezir had just received his appointment; those who had supported him came to compliment him on his promotion to a post of honor.
He was so inflated by the homage he received, that he came at last to pass by his former friends without noticing them.
“Who are you?” he asked one of them.
“My God,” exclaimed the other, who was a wit: “I feel sorry for you indeed, for your Excellency, like most of those who[8] have reached an eminent position, has suddenly lost sight, hearing, and memory, so that you no longer know your former friends.”
It generally happens that those who attain to high station feel contempt for their friends.
An Ass was walking along loaded with wood; as he journeyed he fell into a pond, and lamented because he could not get out.
The Frogs, dwellers in the pond, heard his cries and came up to him.
“Pray tell us,” they said to him, “how is it that you, who have been but a moment in this pond, cry out so vehemently. What would you do, if like us, you had been here for an infinite time?”
Such were the sarcastic consolations they addressed to him.
Young people full of vigor, and capable of enduring all sorts of hardship, too often deride the feebleness of the old.
The quadrupeds and birds assembled one day at an entertainment given by the King of Beasts. Both those who go on foot and those who fly were there.
The Tortoise arrived late because of his slow motion, and asked pardon for his want of punctuality.
“I have such a pleasant home,” said he, “that I never leave it without regret.”
“At some future time,” cried the Lion in a rage, “you will have a house of stone which you can never leave.”
This fable is addressed to those who, instead of keeping to their own vocation, are anxious to attend the entertainments of the great.
A Fox who had never seen a lion in his life met one of the greatest size. In his terror and surprise, he thought that his last hour had come. At the second meeting, he was still somewhat alarmed, but less so than at first. At the third sight of the Lion,[9] he felt no fear at all, but walked up to the Lion and began to converse with him.
By force of habit we become enabled to confront, unmoved, things the most terrible and dangerous.
A Farmer who lived remote from the city, was kept at home by the severity of the winter. Soon, his provisions were exhausted, and finally, he was compelled to kill his great black oxen.
On seeing this, his Hounds gathered together.
“If this man,” said they, “butchers such strong oxen as these, the mainstay of his house, do you think he will spare us? Let us make our escape!”
Keep away from the man who without hesitation does injury to everyone else. To avoid him is a matter of haste and necessity.
A Bear, in struggling with his Mate, used his claws with such violence that he tore her eyes out. He was immediately seized with such sorrow that he bit off his own claws.
A short time afterward, he conversed with her in a friendly manner in his cave.
“My dear,” he remarked to her, “for your sake, I have sacrificed my weapons of war.”
“What good,” said she, “is that to me, now that I am blind, and deprived by you of my precious eyes?”
Repentance cannot repair an injury once inflicted.
The Eel and the Serpent were talking together.
“Why is it,” said the Eel, “that I, although I undoubtedly resemble you, in every point, am hunted by men, while they leave you in peace?”
“Because, if they caught me, they would do it to their cost.”
No one attacks the person who always repays an injury.[10]
A ship at sea was caught in a violent tempest. The crew, seeing her on the point of foundering, began to address their prayers, some to one saint, some to another, imploring them to intercede with the Almighty, that the suppliants might be delivered in their extremity.
While they thus poured out their prayers the Captain remained unmoved. “Fools!” he said at length, “before your patron saints have time to carry their prayers to God, and he has given them a hearing, all of those on board this ship will be drowned. Let us address our prayers directly to the Most High, and implore his help!”
In obedience to the suggestion of their Captain, the Sailors cried out aloud to God himself, and were saved.
When a man of brains and intelligence wishes to ask a favor of the great, he avoids addressing subordinates.
A certain Father had a Son of extremely bad habits.
“He who abandons himself to vicious irregularities, and wanders from the straight path,” he said to him, “gains nothing but shame and disgrace.”
It was thus he used to speak to him plainly, and give him good counsel and advice.
“These,” answered the Son, “are words empty and irrational!”
“Alas,” cried the Father, “can I listen to such words!”
“When you consider,” went on the Son, “that I have continued deaf to the admonitions of the most famous preachers, who are always talking of virtue to me, do you think I could listen to you?”
He whose natural disposition is coarse and vicious would not give up his criminal and debauched way of life, even if Plato, or the very angels of paradise, appealed to him.
A certain countryman, who was engaged in sowing his field, saw a man of letters, who was also a Poet, approaching:[11]
“Sir,” said the Clown to him, “how can you study, as you do, in solitude?”
“I am a Poet,” replied the other; “at first I studied in company with others, but now I go on in my education alone.”
The uneducated man who begins by seeking the society of the learned, in this way becomes educated. In time he grows capable of finishing his education, unaided by others.
A Shark, taking up his station at the mouth of a river, ruled over all the inhabitants of the waters. As he conducted himself with extreme violence toward them, they showed every sign of submissiveness. He had, in fact, become their King, and they treated him as such.
The Shark was unduly elated by his situation. “Wherefore,” said he to himself, “should I not extend my dominion still farther?”
Taking advantage of a favorable opportunity, he left the river and went out to sea, with a view of expanding his domain. “I must now subjugate the fishes who dwell here,” he remarked.
He was thus dreaming of ocean conquest, when he met the whale. Seized with alarm, and frozen with terror, the would-be conqueror fled, and regained the mouth of the river, feeling quite dejected. Henceforth he was very careful not to leave his lurking-place.
Let us beware of giving up a satisfactory position, in pursuit of vainglory, and for the sake of increasing our power; in all cases let us limit our desires.
A certain Wolf was wandering round in search of prey. He entered a village and heard a Child crying.
“What are you crying for?” asked the Child’s old Nurse. “Unless you stop I will give you to the Wolf.”
Some time afterward, when the Child had stopped crying, the old woman began to flatter and humor him. “If the Wolf comes,” said she, “we will tie him fast, then we will give him[12] a beating, and hit him so hard that it will kill him, and after that we will give him to the cat.”
“Lord deliver us from the people of this house!” cried the Wolf, on hearing these words. “Nothing is less to be relied upon than their words; one moment they speak in one way, and the next in another!”
Saying this, he took himself off, and hurriedly retired.
Do not trust the promises of people whose word is as changeable as the color of the chameleon.
A Candle, made of soft and pliant wax, lamented over the fact that the slightest touch injured it. It did nothing but sigh, and burst out into bitter complaints against its dismal lot, especially dwelling upon the fact that bricks, although at first tender and pasty, grow hard from heat and thus acquire an age-long durability. In order to acquire the same hardness, and to reap the same advantages, it leaped into the fire, melted, and was consumed.
It is useless to rise up in irritation and revolt against the disadvantages which are inherent in our nature, our constitution, or our position.
A certain Clown, occupied in cultivating his field, guided the plough now this way, now that, and in the midst of his task felt sorry that he had not been more favored by fortune.
A number of volunteers, who formed part of a brigade, which had just come back victorious from war, happened at this moment to pass by, loaded with rich and abundant booty, and plentifully supplied with provisions. Moved by the sight of them, the laborer set to work to sell his sheep, goats, and oxen; with the price received for these he collected horses, weapons, and ammunition, with a view of joining the army on campaign. Just on his arrival, this army was beaten by the enemy, and utterly routed; the baggage of the new-comer was seized, and he himself returned home, crippled with wounds.
“I am disgusted with the military profession,” he said, “and[13] I am going to be a business man. In spite of my slender income I shall be able to realize great profits in trade.”
He accordingly sold his remaining arms and ammunition, and employed the proceeds in the purchase of goods which he put on board a ship and embarked himself as passenger. As soon as they had put to sea, a tempest fell upon the ship, which went down with the Merchant on board.
He who seeks for a better position in life, finds a worse one and falls at last into misery. Do not try to learn by experience the disadvantages of each several condition.
A King, the hero of his age, had declared war upon one of his neighbors. The enemy for want of resources, had not been able to make sufficient preparations, and did not know how to meet the emergency. He sent out a spy to meet the foe.
The fellow, gazing from a distance, saw advancing a countless multitude of soldiers, armed with lances.
He immediately turned and galloped back to his sovereign.
“My Lord,” he said, “you are about to be attacked by an army as numerous as current coin, for I saw advancing such a crowd of lances that they hide the sun from us.”
“Take this robe of honor,” said the monarch; “please God we shall fight to-day in the shadow of the enemy.”
By this warlike answer, he was able to inspire his troops with a daring and courage which were invincible.
He who suffers himself neither to be cast down by alarm nor dismayed by danger can surmount every obstacle.
A River one day said to its Source: “How idle and good-for-nothing you are! In spite of your incessant movement you do not contain the slightest quantity of fish! In me, on the contrary, are seen more choice fishes swimming than in any other watercourse; thus I produce joy and happiness in all the plains and their inhabitants, through which I pass! You seem to me to be a corpse, from which life has completely vanished.”
The Source, indignant at these insulting words, made no reply, but began to diminish the quantity of water which she[14] furnished to the River; soon she entirely ceased to feed it. By this means the height of the flood sank gradually, until at last water failed entirely, and River and fish disappeared together.
This fable is addressed to those who treat their friends in a similar manner and imagine that their prosperity is specially and directly due to the munificence of God.
An ungrateful man, says the poet, is one who addresses no thanks to Divine Providence for the innumerable gifts showered upon him: he is a blasphemer, as well as an ingrate, who is grateful toward no one excepting the giver of them all.
A certain Hunter, who was seized with an ardent desire to make his prey a superb anqua,[1] spent large sums of money in the keeping of Hounds. By accident, one of his bitches bit his son, and the child died of the wound.
“Since the Hounds have caused his death,” said the master to the servants, “let us kill them all.”
“Alas!” cried one of the poor creatures, “all of us must die for the fault committed by a single one of us!”
A single scoundrel is sufficient to bring ruin on a whole ward.
A certain Fool kept constantly passing through the streets of a town.
“Who will buy Wisdom?” he cried in a loud voice. A passer-by met him on his way, accosted him, and presented him with some small pieces of money.
“Sell me a little Wisdom,” he said.
“Here it is,” replied the other, cuffing him heartily. Immediately afterward he put into his hands a long thread.
“If you wish in future to be wise and prudent,” said the Fool to him, “always keep as far away from fools as the length of this thread.”
We should avoid all connection and communication with fools and cranks.[15]
A Dicer one day lost at play all that he possessed, even to his clothes. Sitting at the door of a wine shop he burst into tears.
One of his friends happened to pass, and noticed the state he was in.
“Have you anything the matter with you that you are so mournful, my friend?” he inquired.
“I have nothing,” replied the other.
“Nothing?” went on the other. “Then there is no reason for weeping.”
“It is really because I have nothing that I weep,” replied he.
Numerous are the applications of this profound fable.
A tender lamb was in the fold, when suddenly a Wolf entered for the purpose of devouring her. Throwing herself at the feet of the Wolf, she said, weeping: “God has put me in your power; sound therefore your horn in order to grant me one moment’s delight; my desires will then be perfectly satisfied, for my parents have told me that the race of wolves are the best players on the horn.” The Wolf heard this silly proposal, and set himself to cry out with all his might and main; when lo and behold, the dogs were waked up and attacked him. He took to flight, and did not stop until he reached a hill, where he said, lamenting: “I certainly deserve this mishap, for who has made me a musician, when I have never been anything but a butcher?”
This fable proves that many good people are deceived by attending to silly proposals, and afterward, like the Wolf, are sorry for it; and that many others undertake, either in word or deed, things for which they are not adapted, and consequently fall into misfortune.
The Insects betook themselves one winter to the dwellings of the Bee and the Ant.
“Give us some food,” they said, “for we are dying of hunger.[16]”
The others answered: “What do you do in summer time?”
“We rest on the spreading trees,” they replied, “and we cheer the traveller with our pleasant songs.”
“If that be so,” was the reply, “it is no wonder that you are dying of hunger; you are therefore no proper objects of charity.”
This fable shows that the foolish virgins ask charity, and those who are wise refuse to give, because there comes a time when not charity but justice is to be rendered.
During the time of this life, which is our summer, we must gather, by wisdom and industry, the spiritual food, without which, we shall be made, at the day of judgment, to die of hunger in hell.
Two Cocks were fighting in the middle of a street; he who defeated his comrade and flung him to the ground was inflated with pride at his victory.
He flew off, and taking his station on a high place, began to swagger up and down and to crow, elated with victory. While he thus exhibited his vanity an eagle unexpectedly swooped down upon him and carried him off.
This fable shows that he who rejoices over the defeat of his adversary, or plumes himself upon victory over a foe, brings upon his own head, without knowing it, torments and sufferings which will compel him to deplore his own lot.
The Birds gathered together and elected the Peacock and crowned him King, on account of his great beauty.
Then the Dove came to him and said: “O excellent King, if the Eagles harass us, how will you be able to bring help?”
This fable shows that beauty is not the sole attribute to be sought for in a king, but that he is required to show on every occasion, courage, military valor, and ripe wisdom.
The Fox and the Crab lived together like brothers; together they sowed their land, reaped the harvest, thrashed the grain and garnered it.[17]
The Fox said one day: “Let us go to the hill-top, and whoever reaches it first shall carry off the grain for his own.”
While they were mounting the steep the Crab said:
“Do me a favor; before you set off running, touch me with your tail, so that I shall know it and be able to follow you.”
The Crab opened his claws, and when the Fox touched him with his tail, he leaped forward and seized it, so that when the Fox reached the goal and turned round to see where the Crab was, the latter fell upon the heap of grain and said: “These three bushels and a half are all mine.” The Fox was thunderstruck and exclaimed:
“How did you get here, you rascal?”
This fable shows that deceitful men devise many methods and actions for getting things their own way, but that they are often defeated by the feeble.
All the Goats gathered together and sent a message to the nation of the Wolves. “Wherefore,” said they, “do you make upon us this ceaseless war? We beseech you, make peace with us, as the kings of nations are wont to do.”
The Wolves assembled in great joy, and sent a long letter and many presents to the nation of the Goats. And they said to them:
“We have learned your excellent resolution and we have rendered thanks to God for it. The news of this peace will occasion great joy in the world. But we beg to inform your wisdom that the shepherd and his dog are the causes of all our differences and quarrels; if you make an end of them, tranquillity will soon return.”
On learning this, the Goats drove away the shepherds and their dogs, and ratified a treaty of peace and friendship with the Wolves.
The Goats then went out and scattered themselves without fear among the hills and valleys, and began to feed and render thanks to God. The Wolves waited for ten days, then they gathered themselves together against the Goats, and strangled them every one.
This fable shows that hatred and aversion between nations[18] and families, or between individuals, is deeply rooted in the heart of man, and that peace and friendship are not established among them, excepting with the greatest difficulty.
The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox, having made an alliance, went forth to hunt, and captured a ram, a sheep, and a lamb.
When dinner time came the Lion said to the Wolf, “Divide the prey among us.”
The Wolf replied: “O King, God apportions them thus: the ram is for you, the sheep for me, and the lamb for the Fox.”
The Lion flew into a violent rage at this and gave the Wolf a blow upon the cheek that made his eyes bulge out. He retired in bitter tears.
Then the Lion addressed the Fox, bidding him apportion the prey.
“O King,” he answered, “God has already apportioned it. The ram is for your dinner, we will join you in eating the sheep, and you shall sup upon the lamb.”
“Little rogue of a Fox,” said the Lion, “who taught you to apportion things with such equity?”
“The starting eyes of the Wolf taught me that,” replied the Fox.
This fable shows that many wicked men see the error of their ways, and amend, so soon as kings and princes cause robbers and malefactors to be hanged.
The Wolf having come upon an Ass who was in prime condition wished to eat him.
Then the Ass said: “I beseech you, Mr. Wolf, cure me of a wound which I have in the foot; an abominable nail has pierced it, and produces intense suffering. Afterward, you can eat me, for God has destined me to be your food.”
The Wolf accordingly went behind the Ass for the purpose of extracting the nail; but at that moment the Ass flung out a kick with all his strength, which struck the Wolf and smashed his teeth. The Wolf, weeping bitterly, reflected:[19]
“It is right that I suffer this disaster, for being by nature a butcher, no one can make a blacksmith of me.”
This fable shows many people are filled with sorrow and regret, from attempting to practise arts and accomplishments which they have never learned, and which are unsuited to their life.
The Fox having caught a Partridge was preparing to eat it. But the latter said:
“Blessed be God, who calls me to his kingdom, and delivers me from the evils of this world. But do you, Mr. Fox, render thanks to God for this feast upon me, which will be your great reward.”
The Fox sat down, looked up to heaven, and opened his mouth, saying:
“I thank thee, gracious God, for the excellent feast thou hast prepared for me.”
As he spoke, the Partridge slipped from his jaws, and flew away. Then the Fox said: “Fool and dotard that I am! I should have eaten first, and thanked God afterward.”
This fable warns us not to count on things that are promised, and not to thank anyone until we have actually received a favor.
The Fox held a Sparrow in his mouth and was on the point of eating it, when the latter said:
“You ought first to give thanks to God, and then you can eat me, for at this moment I am on the point of laying an egg, big as that of an ostrich. It is a priceless egg, but let me go, that I may lay it, and afterward you may eat me. I swear that I will put myself at your disposal.”
As soon as the Fox dropped him, he flew off and lighted on the branch of a very high tree. Then the Fox said to him:
“Come, now, do as you have decided, and return when I ask you.”
“Do you think I am as senseless as you are?” asked the Sparrow, “that I should return at your pleasure? How could you possibly believe me, or imagine that such a little body could lay such a disproportionately large egg? Listen to the advice[20] I give you: Don’t you credit extravagant statements, or go to sleep under a tottering wall.”
The Fox answered: “God will judge you for the trick you have played me.”
“Some falsehoods,” answered the Sparrow, “are praiseworthy; God highly rewards the lie that delivers one from death or danger, and which saves another’s life.”
The Fox then concealed himself near by, and began to plot and peer for the capture of the Sparrow; but the latter dropped dung into his eyes, saying: “O fool, listen to another piece of advice: Do not strive after that which you cannot attain, and in the quarrels of husband and wife, or of brothers, say not a single indiscreet word of which you may afterward repent.”
A Syrian Priest, good and wise, and an Armenian were engaged in a dispute. The Young Man, at last enraged, said to the Priest:
“I will drive this stone down your throat, in order that your thirty-two teeth may choke you.”
The Priest returned hastily to his house, lost in astonishment, and said to his wife:
“In the name of God, wife, light a candle, and count how many teeth I have.”
She counted them and said:
“They are just thirty-two in number.”
The Priest at once returned to the Young Man and said:
“How did you learn the number of my teeth? And who told you?”
“Sir,” replied the other, “I learned the number of your teeth from the number of my own.”
This fable shows that from my own bad qualities I am able to guess yours, for all faults are common.
The Cat, having put on the cowl and become a monk, sent word to the mice and said:
“It is an abominable thing to shed blood. As for me, I will shed no more, for I am become religious.[21]”
Then the mice replied: “Although we saw in you the whole Order of St. Anthony, or of our holy Father St. Mark, we could have no confidence in your hypocrisy.”
The Cat covered herself with a dust rag, and smeared herself with flour. The mice approached her, saying:
“Wretch, we see through your dust rag!”
Then she pretended to be dead, and lay in the path of the mice, who approached her and said:
“Miserable cheat, although your skin be made into a purse, we could not believe that you had given up your habitual knavery.”
This fable shows that when you have once found out a person of dishonest, treacherous, and evil character, you should not trust him, even if he tries to do right, for he cannot change his nature.
The Fox deceived the Wolf, telling him that if he delivered a letter to the heads of the village, they would give him food to bring back. When the Wolf reached the village the dogs fell upon him, biting and wounding him. When he returned in a sad plight the Fox said to him: “Why did you not show your letter?”
“I did show it,” was the reply, “but there were a thousand dogs, who did not know the handwriting.”
This fable shows that there are many people ignorant, though brave, with whom it is best not to dispute or to mix, but prudently to keep away from them.
The Horse complained to his Rider, saying that it was unjust that a fair and powerful creature, such as he was, should be a slave and carry so weak a thing as man.
His Rider replied: “I feed you, I shelter you with a roof, and I show you where water and grass are to be found.”
“But you take away my liberty, and put a hard bit in my mouth. You weary me with long journeys, and sometimes expose me to the dangers of battle,” answered the Horse.
“Take, then, your liberty,” said his master, removing the bridle from his head and the saddle from his back.[22]
The Horse bounded off into the mountains, where grass and water abounded. For many weeks he enjoyed ease and plenty. But a pack of wolves, seeing him in good condition, pursued him. At first he easily outstripped them, but he was now heavy with much nourishment, and his breath began to fail. The wolves overtook and threw him to the ground.
When he found his last hour was come he exclaimed mournfully. “How happy and safe I was with my master, and how much lighter and easier were his bridle and spur than the fangs of these blood-thirsty enemies!”
This fable shows that many people do not estimate duly the blessings of their condition, and complain about those duties, the performance of which is the sole condition of their life and safety.
A Rose growing in a garden of Tiflis saw in summer time a Butterfly of many colors fluttering in a neighboring flower-bed.
“Poor creature,” said the flower, “how short your life is! You are here to-day and gone to-morrow. But I remain on my stalk, spread my leaves in the sun, and scatter scent on the air without change.”
“I have the power of going into many gardens,” replied the Butterfly. “You are only a prisoner; I can get under shelter when it rains, seek the shade when the sun is hot, and if my life is short, it is a merry one. Besides, your life is short also, and a storm at any moment may throw you to the ground and scatter your red petals in the dust.”
The Rose tossed her head in a burst of rage. “I am at least beautiful and fragrant while my life lasts; but you are no more than a worm with a pair of wings.”
There would have been more angry words between these two had not the lady of the house come that moment and plucked the Rose, while a bird from the bough of an oak-tree swooped down and carried off the Butterfly.
This fable shows that pride and vanity make people very often fancy themselves superior to others, while all are really of no importance, being subject to the same condition of decay and death.[23]
The Archer and the Trumpeter were travelling together in a lonely place. The Archer boasted of his skill as a warrior, and asked the Trumpeter if he bore arms.
“No,” replied the Trumpeter, “I cannot fight. I can only blow my horn, and make music for those who are at war.”
“But I can hit a mark at a hundred paces,” said the Archer. As he spoke an eagle appeared, hovering over the tree tops. He drew out an arrow, fitted it on the string, shot at the bird, which straightway fell to the ground, transfixed to the heart.
“I am not afraid of any foe, for that bird might just as well have been a man,” said the Archer proudly. “But you would be quite helpless if anyone attacked you.”
They saw at that moment a band of robbers approaching them with drawn swords. The Archer immediately discharged a sharp arrow, which laid low the foremost of the wicked men. But the rest soon overpowered him and bound his hands.
“As for this Trumpeter, he can do us no harm, for he has neither sword nor bow,” they said, and did not bind him, but took away his purse and wallet.
Then the Trumpeter said: “You are welcome, friends, but let me play you a tune on my horn.”
With their consent he blew loud and long on his trumpet, and in a short space of time the guards of the King came running up at the sound, and surrounded the robbers and carried them off to prison.
When they unbound the hands of the Archer he said to the Trumpeter: “Friend, I have learned to-day that a trumpet is better than a bow; for you have saved our lives without doing harm to anyone.”
This fable shows that one man ought not to despise the trade of another. It also shows that it is better to be able to gain the help of others than to trust to our own strength.
A Fox was once carrying home to his young a leveret which he had caught by stealth. On his way he met a Wolf, who said to him, “I am very hungry, and I hope you will not refuse me a taste of your prey.[24]”
“In the name of God,” cried the Fox, “eat your fill; but leave me a fragment for the supper of my little ones.”
The Wolf, however, swallowed the dainty morsel at a mouthful. Although the Fox was very angry he said in a humble voice: “I am glad that your appetite is so good. Farewell. Perhaps some day I will gain for you another meal of equal sweetness.”
When they parted the Fox began to plot how he might revenge himself upon his enemy the Wolf. Now it happened that a Shepherd’s Dog came to the Fox for advice. He asked him how he should destroy the Wolf, who every night kept robbing his master’s folds.
“That is an easy matter,” replied the Fox. “You must put on a wolf’s skin, so that when the Wolf sees you he will make up to you without fear, and then you can seize him by the throat and strangle him.”
The Wolf also came to the Fox for counsel.
“The Shepherd’s Dog,” he complained, “barks when I approach the fold, and the sticks and stones of the shepherds often give me a severe mauling. How shall I be able to kill him?”
“That is easy,” said the Fox; “put on a sheep’s skin, enter the fold with the flock, and lie down with them. At midnight you can strangle the Dog unawares, afterward feast as much as you like.”
Then the Fox went back to the Dog and told him to look out for the Wolf disguised as a Sheep.
When night came the Wolf entered the fold dressed like a sheep, and had no fear, for he saw no dog, but only a wolf at the door. But the Dog saw the fierce eyes of the Wolf and flew at his throat. Meanwhile the shepherds heard the noise, and as they saw a wolf mangling a sheep, they laid on the Dog’s back with their heavy staves until he died, but not before he had strangled the Wolf.
This fable shows how unwise it is to seek help from people without principle.[25]
BY
MIRZA FETH-ALI AKHOUD ZAIDÉ
[Translated by Epiphanius Wilson, A.M.]
| Sekiné-Khanoun, a young lady of eighteen, sister of the late Hadji-Ghafour. | |
| Aziz-Bey, the lover and fiancé of Sekiné-Khanoun. | |
| Zobeide, paternal aunt of Sekiné-Khanoun. | |
| Zeineb-Khanoun, mistress of the late Hadji-Ghafour. | |
| Aga-Abbas, brother of Zeineb. | |
| Aga-Selman, son of the sieve-maker, advocate of Sekiné-Khanoun. | |
| Aga-Meradan, son of the confectioner, advocate of Zeineb. | |
| Aga-Hassam, a merchant. | |
| Aga-Kerim, chief of the courtiers. | |
| Goul-Sebah, servant of Sekiné-Khanoun. | |
| The President of the Tribunal. | |
| Aga-Rehim, | — Assessors of the Tribunal. |
| Aga-Djebbar, | |
| Aga-Bechin, | |
| Aga-Settar, | |
| The Inspector of the Market. | |
| Hepou, | — witnesses for Zeineb. |
| Cheida, | |
| Qourban Ali, | |
| Hanife, | |
| Bedel, | — soldiers, witnesses for Sekiné-Khanoun. |
| Quhreman, | |
| Ghaffer, | |
| Nezer, | |
| The Chief of the Bailiffs. | |
| Eced, domestic to the President of the Tribunal. | |
| Nasser, a lackey. | |
| A seven months’ old infant. | |
Sekiné-Khanoun, sister of Hadji-Ghafour, is discovered standing before the window; she calls to her servant, Goul-Sebah.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Goul-Sebah! Goul-Sebah!
Goul-Sebah [entering the room]. Here I am, madame. What do you wish?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Have you not heard of the trouble which my shameless sister-in-law is bringing upon me, Goul-Sebah?
Goul-Sebah. No, madame. How could I hear about it?
Sekiné-Khanoun. She has given notice to the President of the Tribunal that she objects to his paying over to me the money which my brother had placed in his hands for me. She claims that this sum should revert to her. Good heavens! Goul-Sebah, was ever such a case heard of? I do not know what sin I have committed against God, but things always fall out unluckily for me.
Goul-Sebah. Whatever put such ideas in your head, madame? Why should things fall out unluckily for you?
Sekiné-Khanoun. As you are aware, Goul-Sebah, I am desperately in love with Aziz-Bey. For two whole years did the unhappy youth in vain beseech my brother to give him my hand; my brother would not consent, because Aziz-Bey is the son of a heretic, and an officer of government. But now that my brother is dead, and I am free to dispose of my hand as I choose, I wish to enter into possession of[28] the money which he has left me, to provide for my wants in peace, and to fulfil the vow of my heart. And lo and behold, this shameless sister-in-law has protested against the payment of the legacy! We must therefore have all the worry of a lawsuit.
Goul-Sebah. Is it not a fact, madame, that your sister-in-law has no right to the legacy left by your brother?
Sekiné-Khanoun. She certainly has none. What right could she have? She was not his lawful wife, that she should inherit his fortune. She has not even a child who could be co-heir to it! I do not really know why she has protested.
Goul-Sebah. Do not trouble your head about it, madame. Please God, nothing will be done against you. But make one promise to your servant; I will pray God to bring out your business well, and to grant that you may soon reach the goal of your desires.
Sekiné-Khanoun. What is your desire? What promise do you wish me to make to you?
Goul-Sebah. Promise me, when this affair is settled, by the favor of God, and you have come into possession of your fortune, promise me to defray the expenses of my wedding and to give me a husband. What could I desire beside that?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Very well. Do you pray to God that our lawsuit may be quickly ended, and I will give a husband to you also. But start at once, and go to the house of Aziz-Bey, and tell him to come to me; I wish to see what he says about all this. The President of the Tribunal has induced me to ask an advocate to plead my cause. But I have no one in this country excepting Aziz-Bey, and a paternal aunt—and she is, of course, a woman, and what can a woman do for me?
Goul-Sebah [she goes out and at once returns]. Madame, here comes Aziz-Bey himself at the very nick of time. [Sekiné-Khanoun closes the window and Aziz-Bey enters the room.]
Aziz-Bey [abruptly]. See what a mess you have led me into, Sekiné.
Sekiné-Khanoun [with surprise]. I! What mess have I led you into? But, tell me, what has happened that you seem so vexed and gloomy?
Aziz-Bey. Listen to me, Sekiné. You know that two years ago, just as I left school, I fell sick with love for you, so that I had no longer strength to leave the house, although your brother ill-treated me, and made every effort to separate us two. During this whole time, I have proved constant, and have put up with his harshness. My love, so far from being cooled, has grown from day to day, and in the hope that sooner or later we should be united, I have patiently endured all sorts of outrage and persecutions. Meanwhile the moment of our union seemed to be near, and my thoughts became somewhat more cheerful, and I enjoyed a little more peace of mind—and now I learn that I am again to be plunged into misfortune!
Sekiné-Khanoun. What do you say? Speak more plainly, that I may understand your meaning. I do not comprehend you.
Aziz-Bey. How is it you do not comprehend? Are you not aware that yesterday, Aga-Hassam, the merchant, has sent the wife of the head of the Traders’ Company, that of the mayor, and that of Bagis, the lawyer, to the house of your aunt, to demand your hand of her? Your aunt has given her word in assent.
Sekiné-Khanoun. But my aunt talks nonsense! Who pays any attention to her words?
Aziz-Bey. I can stand this no longer. You must send at once and call for your aunt, and let me with my own ears hear her declare that you shall never be the wife of Aga-Hassam, or else I must decide to kill Aga-Hassam this very day, and may I succeed in doing so! What is this Hassam? A shopkeeper! He wishes to step into my shoes, to pay court to my fiancée, and to cross my path, does he! By God, I will cut his heart out with this dagger.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Very good. I will send to my aunt, and[30] beg of her to come at once. Then I will tell her that I am not, and never will be the wife of Aga-Hassam. When my aunt arrives, you must go into this room, and you will hear what she says with your own ears.—Goul-Sebah!
Goul-Sebah. What is it, madame?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Goul-Sebah, go and ask my aunt to come here. [Goul-Sebah goes out.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Well, but come now, whom shall we take for our advocate?
Aziz-Bey. Advocate? For what purpose?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Alas, he asks me for what purpose! Have they not told you, then, that my sister-in-law disputes the legacy, and wishes to involve me in a lawsuit?
Aziz-Bey. Yes, I have heard it said, but at present my head is whirling round. First let your aunt come, and when she goes away, I will find an advocate. [At this moment a footstep is heard, Aziz-Bey returns to the other room, and Zobeide, aunt of Sekiné-Khanoun enters the apartment.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Good-day, my dear aunt.
Zobeide. Good-day, Sekiné. How are you? Are you quite well?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Ah! how can I be well, when I have allowed you, aunt, to promise me in marriage to Aga-Hassam? I have neither father nor brother, and am altogether dependent on myself for the management of my life.
Zobeide. Are you not ashamed to speak thus? What! not a blush! Has not all been done in your interest? You need a husband; you must take him who is given to you. It is not proper that young girls should speak in this style before their elder relations. It is shameful! Fie upon you, Sekiné![31]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Not at all. I have spoken just as I choose; I will no longer surrender my liberty, and no one shall force a husband upon me.
Zobeide. Very good. You do not, then, wish to marry?
Sekiné-Khanoun. No; I certainly do not wish to marry.
Zobeide [smiling]. There are many girls who say no, like you; but later on they come to reason.
Sekiné-Khanoun. In the name of God, aunt, do not make fun of me; it is absurd to wish me to marry Aga-Hassam; you may as well give up that idea altogether.
Zobeide. It is not possible for you to recede, my dear niece. You would make enemies for me of all the leading people of the country.
Sekiné-Khanoun. They may go to the devil for all I care. Aga-Hassam is loathsome to me; the very sight of him makes me sick.
Zobeide. Why is that?
Sekiné-Khanoun. He is a low fellow.
Zobeide. He may be a low fellow to everyone else, but to us he is of the first water. He is successful in business, is very rich, and his connections are among the leading people of the province. Where will you find a better husband?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Even if Aga-Hassam were to load me with jewels from head to foot I would never be his wife. Go and tell him to give up all idea of this.
Zobeide. Never. Who, pray, are you, that you presume to go back on the word which I have given? Aga-Hassam sent to me the leading ladies of the land. I am no child, and I, of course, consented to their offer; I had your interest in view, and gave my word to them. Do you wish me to appear in the eyes of the world as an imbecile? I have, I believe, both name and rank; I have a position of dignity, and am an honorable woman.
Sekiné-Khanoun. And so I am to be made unhappy for my whole life in order that your reputation and your honor may suffer no damage! You have laid a strange duty upon me, aunt. By Heaven, I swear that I will never, never marry Aga-Hassam, even though the whole world be brought to ruin. It is I who tell you this, and you must explain matters to him, and make him abandon this pro[32]posal. If you do not, I will send for him myself, and I will meet him face to face and give him such a tongue-lashing as he never had before. I will treat him worse than a dog, and send him away with a flea in his ear.
Zobeide [covering her face with both her hands]. Oh! Oh! My God! Oh! how the whole world is become topsy-turvy. The young girls of to-day have neither shame nor reserve. Sekiné, I have never before met a girl of such effrontery as you exhibit. I myself have been young, I have had older relatives about me, but from respect toward them I would never have dared to raise my head in contradiction to them. It is because of this effrontery of yours that plague and cholera cease not to waste this province.
Sekiné-Khanoun. No, it is owing to the baseness of certain degraded people that plague and cholera are raging here. This miserable wretch has heard of my fortune of 60,000 tomans, and this is the reason why he sent and asked for my hand. If this were not so, why did he not seek to win me by the avenue of love and inclination? If he desired to espouse me for my own sake, why did he keep his mouth shut, and refrain from breathing a word during my brother’s lifetime?
Zobeide. He might have had no desire to wed you in your brother’s lifetime. But you do well to remind me of the 60,000 tomans. Are you not aware that unless you marry Aga-Hassam he will cause you to forfeit this sum of money?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Why, and in what way will he cause me to forfeit it?
Zobeide. In what way? Why, he will go to your sister-in-law, and make common cause with her. His kinsmen and family will support her claim and confirm her declaration, and you will be compelled to abandon your rights. The reason is palpable; it lies in the greed and devilish trickery of those people whose minds are set on nothing else but the absorption of other people’s fortunes, great and small. And what do you know about such matters as these? Who will listen to your arguments or pleas?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Very good. Let us admit that my rights are to be invaded and my pleas disregarded. Still, I do not[33] understand how a mistress, a domestic servant, can pretend to the legacy that belongs to me. We shall soon be told that there is neither right nor justice in this country, and that everyone can do just what he likes, and as he understands it to be best for himself!
Zobeide. Ah, my child, is there any safeguard from the trickery of mankind? What rights had the wife of Hadji-Rehim in the fortune of her husband? Nevertheless 12,000 tomans in cash and a bathing establishment were stolen from Aga-Riza, the son of Hadji-Rehim, to make a gift for this vile woman. By all sorts of rascalities the advocate of this woman forged a deed of gift, and pretended that Hadji-Rehim in his lifetime transferred to his wife 12,000 tomans, in specie, and a bathing establishment. Five or six persons were produced as witnesses, and in spite of his cries and lamentations, the money and the hammam were stolen from poor Aga-Riza, who utterly failed to obtain justice. You are quite unaware of the diabolical wiles of law officers in this country; no one can escape from the manœuvres of these people, no one can see through these manœuvres and false statements. Do you think that I have promised your hand to Aga-Hassam to please myself? Not at all. I have seen that there was no course to take, and I said to myself that we must accept the situation with a good grace; and that this was the best thing to be done.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Even though all my fortune should be swallowed up to the last penny, I will never be the wife of Aga-Hassam. Go, then, and explain this to him; tell him that your niece refused her consent.
Zobeide. Do not speak in this way, Sekiné. I see your plan. You wish to become the wife of Aziz-Bey, and to mingle the blood of our race with heretics; to bring in those people, and to set them at the head of our family; to do despite to the spirits of our ancestors, and to cover yourself with disgrace. Never, up to this day, has such a thing been seen in our family. How can the daughter of an honest, God-fearing merchant become the wife of an unbeliever? How is it possible?
Sekiné-Khanoun. How do you know that I desire to espouse[34] Aziz-Bey? I wish to espouse neither him nor anyone else. I wish to remain in my own house. Be quick, then, and give my message to Aga-Hassam.
Zobeide. You are a young girl, you have not reached years of discretion, and cannot see your own interests. I have not the slightest intention of going to find Aga-Hassam, and telling him that my niece is unwilling to marry him. I have promised you to him, and he left after receiving my word on it; you may spare yourself further talk on this matter. [Zobeide rises and goes out.]
Aziz-Bey. You see now what real trouble I am in. I shall go off at once.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Where will you go?
Aziz-Bey. To this villain, Aga-Hassam, to punish him as he deserves. I can no longer restrain myself.
Sekiné-Khanoun. What is the matter with you? Do not go; remain here. You will otherwise commit some blunder. I intend sending someone from me to this wretch, to tell him to come here, and I will compel him myself to abandon these designs of his.—Goul-Sebah! [Enter Goul-Sebah.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Goul-Sebah, go to the home of Aga-Hassam, the merchant, take him aside, and tell him that a woman asks for him on a most important errand; but do not mention my name. [Exit Goul-Sebah. Then Sekiné-Khanoun turns toward Aziz-Bey.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. By heavens, Aziz-Bey, you are a child whose lips are still wet with your nurse’s milk! Go and look at yourself in the glass and see how red your eyes are from rage. How is it you have so little force of character? This base fellow cannot take me by force.
Aziz-Bey. You are right; but what can I do when my heart is overflowing. [Footsteps heard without. Aziz-Bey re[35]turns to the other chamber. Sekiné-Khanoun veils her face and seats herself. Enter Goul-Sebah with Aga-Hassam.]
Aga-Hassam. Good-day, madame.
Sekiné-Khanoun [pleasantly]. Good-day, sir. Do you know who I am, brother Hassam?
Aga-Hassam. No, madame, I do not.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Really! Well, Aga-Hassam, I must inform you that I am Sekiné, the sister of Hadji-Ghafour.
Aga-Hassam [in astonishment]. Indeed! I have heard of you. Can I do any thing for you? I am your humble servant and your slave, your domestic, your lackey.
Sekiné-Khanoun. No, Aga-Hassam, let me beg you to be neither my slave nor my servant; be my brother, both in this world and in the next, and give up all idea of marrying me. It is for the purpose of making this simple request that I have called you here; this is all I have to say to you.
Aga-Hassam [in confusion]. But, madame, why do you not permit me to be your slave? What fault have I committed?
Sekiné-Khanoun. You have committed no fault, and it is best that I should speak plainly to you. I am informed that you sent to my aunt to ask for my hand; but it is quite useless for her to give her consent to your demand. I may as well tell you that I am not the person to suit you in this matter; abandon, therefore, your purpose. From henceforth do not name me in connection with this subject again.
Aga-Hassam. And pray, madame, why is this? Give me the reason. Let me understand why I am not worthy to offer you my services.
Sekiné-Khanoun. The reason I need not explain. All I have to ask of you is to leave me alone.
Aga-Hassam. But really, madame, I must know what fault I have committed which makes you repulse me.
Sekiné-Khanoun. You have not committed a single fault, my brother. But I am to-day mistress of my own actions, and I do not desire to become your wife. I do not love you; nothing can force the heart to love.[36]
Aga-Hassam. It is very wrong of you to speak in this strain, madame. Do not repeat such words.
Sekiné-Khanoun. I understand what you mean. Well, do your worst. Spare me, or spare me not, it matters not to me, vile wretch!
Aga-Hassam. Ah! you will repent of this later on. But think again for a while, and consider whether you have nothing more to say to me.
Sekiné-Khanoun. I have considered the whole question, and I have but one more observation to make. Leave me! and do whatever you will. There is no one more despicable than you are.
Aga-Hassam [enraged]. Are you mad? I intend to lead you such a dance that everyone will talk about it; even to the day of your death you will remember it. [He rises.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Begone! Begone! He who fears you is lower than you are. Do your worst against me. Begone!—What does he say? Does he fancy that anyone is afraid of him? [Aga-Hassam withdraws, and Aziz-Bey comes back into the room.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Come in and let me think over matters. One stone frightens away a hundred crows.
Aziz-Bey. I am going to tell the whole affair to Chah-Zade, the King’s son, and ask him to settle it offhand.
Sekiné-Khanoun. The Prince Royal cannot stop the lawsuit. In any case we must have an advocate.
Aziz-Bey. The Prince Royal cannot stop the lawsuit; but he can defeat the artifices of a rascal like Aga-Hassam. I must inform him of the affair. My father has long been devoted to his service, and he is well disposed toward me; he has promised to give me employment and to establish me in an office, and to give me my father’s fortune.
Sekiné-Khanoun. That is all very good, but let us first secure the services of an advocate; afterward you can go and tell the whole story to the Prince Royal, and he will see what is best to be done.
Aziz-Bey. Very good. Whom would you like to have for an advocate? [At this moment Goul-Sebah enters the room.]
Goul-Sebah. Madame, a certain individual who professes to have important business to discuss with you is waiting at the door. He asks if there is anyone who can serve as his representative with you.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Certainly, Aziz-Bey is here. Tell the man to come in; we wish to know what he wants. [Goul-Sebah goes out.]
Aziz-Bey. Do you think it wise that the newcomer should see me with you?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Do people know who you are? Probably you will be taken for one of my family. [Aga-Kerim enters the room. Sekiné-Khanoun veils herself.]
Aga-Kerim. Good-day to you both.
Aziz-Bey. Good-day, sir. Be seated, if you please; you are welcome.
Aga-Kerim [seating himself and turning to Aziz-Bey.] My young master, kindly tell me your name.
Aziz-Bey. My name is Aziz-Bey.
Aga-Kerim. It is a fortunate name. But Aziz-Bey, may I speak to you on a certain matter in the presence of Sekiné-Khanoun?
Aziz-Bey. You may address your remarks directly to Sekiné-Khanoun. Do not think that she is frivolous like other young ladies; she delights in conversation, and will not be at all bashful in answering your questions.
Aga-Kerim. She is right. But let me first of all inform you, Aziz-Bey, that I am Aga-Kerim, the chief of the courtiers, and that I was a close friend of the late Hadji-Ghafour. I happened to drop in on business a moment ago, at the house of Aga-Merdan, the son of the confectioner. By chance Aga-Hassam, the merchant, was also there. He greeted me, sat down, and spoke as follows: “I am told, Aga-Merdan, that you are the advocate of Zeineb, the[38] widow of Hadji-Ghafour. I take your side in this lawsuit, and I have something to say to you in confidence.” I saw that they wanted to have a private talk, so I withdrew. I learned, however, that they were plotting against Sekiné-Khanoun, and I therefore came to warn her, merely from a feeling of gratitude toward Hadji-Ghafour.
Sekiné-Khanoun. I am delighted to find, Aga-Kerim, that you have not forgotten the claims of friendship, and that in the present emergency you have remembered the sister of an old friend.
Aga-Kerim. Ah yes, madame, friendship is a valuable thing in these days. I have seen how things stood, for this Aga-Merdan is a rogue and a scheming rascal whose equal is to be found neither in earth nor in heaven. I therefore decided to come, and in a friendly spirit to warn you beforehand of their intrigues, for if they are permitted to carry them out, there will be no cure for the consequences.
Sekiné-Khanoun. But, Aga-Kerim, what can Aga-Merdan do against me?
Aga-Kerim. What can he do? I am told that he is the advocate of your sister-in-law, and intends to sue you at law in her name. He is very clever and resourceful in affairs of this sort; you would be no match for him. It is very difficult to get ahead of him.
Sekiné-Khanoun. What can he do in this lawsuit? My brother has no child to inherit his fortune. On the other hand, a woman who has been no more than temporary wife can make no claim to the heritage. However clever Aga-Merdan, or anyone else, may be, what injury can they do me in a case which is so clear?
Aga-Kerim. You have had very little experience in affairs of this sort. Aga-Merdan will find means to accomplish his ends. You must not let him take you at a disadvantage in the struggle.
Sekiné-Khanoun. But how can we help being taken at a disadvantage?
Aga-Kerim. Well, tell me in the first place who your advocate is, so that I may see him, and make him acquainted with some of the tricks of Aga-Merdan. If he is intelligent he won’t let himself be caught napping.[39]
Sekiné-Khanoun. We do not know whom to take for our advocate.
Aga-Kerim. How is that? You don’t know whom to take, and have not appointed anyone to defend you in this case?
Sekiné-Khanoun. No, we do not know whom to choose; we are just on the point of considering the question.
Aziz-Bey. Could not you, Aga-Kerim, name someone to whom we could intrust our case?
Aga-Kerim. No, I know no one who would be able to hold his own against Aga-Merdan. I thought you had your advocate already on hand.
Aziz-Bey. No, we have not appointed anyone. We were merely on the lookout for a man of great ability whom we could intrust with the defence of our interests. But think again; cudgel your brains. Have you no idea of anyone?
Aga-Kerim. No, I can think of no man who is of great ability. There are plenty of advocates, but there is none of them who could cope with Aga-Merdan. But stay; there is someone, if he would consent to be your advocate, for he has retired for some time from business of the kind. He alone would be able to hold his own with Aga-Merdan.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Who is he?
Aga-Kerim. He is Aga-Selman, the son of the sieve-maker. Intrust your case with him if he will undertake it.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Who would be able to see him and speak to him about it?
Aga-Kerim. It is not necessary to delegate anyone to see him. Send for him, and speak to him yourself here. Perhaps your arguments may persuade him to accept the case; the discourse of a woman has so much influence.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Aga-Kerim, could you not see him yourself, and send him to us?
Aga-Kerim. No, madame. I have fallen out with him about a trifling matter. Send somebody else to fetch him.
Sekiné-Khanoun. But how can you in this case give him certain information which you wish him to have?
Aga-Kerim. If you had another advocate, I should deem it necessary to instruct him in these matters; but in the case[40] of Aga-Selman it is superfluous. He is clever enough to make slippers for the devil himself. Although I have quarrelled with him, I cannot deny his merit. God grant that your lawsuit may succeed.
Aziz-Bey. I shall go and fetch him myself. [Aziz-Bey and Aga-Kerim rise from their seats and prepare to go out.]
Aga-Kerim. God preserve you, madame.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Thanks for your kind visit.
Aga-Kerim. I shall never forget your goodness. [Aga-Kerim goes out with Aziz-Bey.]
Sekiné-Khanoun. Goul-Sebah! bring in a lounge, and lay a cushion on it. [Scarcely has Goul-Sebah brought in the lounge and placed a cushion on it, when a sound of footsteps is heard in the vestibule. Aziz-Bey enters the room with Aga-Selman. Sekiné-Khanoun takes a seat at the back of the stage; Goul-Sebah stands by her side.]
Aga-Selman. Good-day, madame!
Sekiné-Khanoun. Good-day, sir. You are welcome, Aga-Selman, and your visit gratifies me exceedingly. Have the goodness to take a seat. [She points with her finger to the lounge. Aga-Selman seats himself at the foot of the lounge and Aziz-Bey takes a place by his side.]
Sekiné-Khanoun [in a melancholy voice]. Aga-Selman, I am the sister of Hadji-Ghafour. I hope that you will treat me as your daughter, and will not refuse me your support in this day of misfortune.
Aga-Selman. Speak, madame, tell me what is your desire?
Sekiné-Khanoun. You know, Aga-Selman, that seven or eight months ago everyone forsook the city and fled in every direction because of the cholera. Hadji-Ghafour was a man full of confidence in God; he declared he would not leave, but as a precaution he took to the President of the Tribunal and placed on deposit with him, in exchange for vouchers, and in the presence of witnesses, a sum of 60,000 tomans, laid up in strong-boxes. “If I should hap[41]pen to die,” he said, “you must give this money to my legal heir.” The President of the Tribunal took charge of the money, and then, like everybody else, he quitted the city. All our neighbors also left. No one was at home but my brother and I, with a woman whom he had espoused in temporary marriage. It happened that my brother fell sick. No one was left in the town but some soldiers whom the government had left to guard the houses of the inhabitants, and to carry the dead to the cemetery. On that day four soldiers came to our house, and my brother said to them: “I am dying, and I have no other heir in the world but my sister here. After my death take me away to the cemetery.” Then my brother departed to the other world. Meanwhile my sister-in-law, who is no more than a mistress to whom no legacy can fall, pretends to be the heiress of my brother, and institutes a suit against me. Her advocate is Aga-Merdan, the son of the confectioner, and I hope that you will be willing to undertake the task of defending me.
Aga-Selman. Madame, I have retired from practice, and do not intend henceforth to be anyone’s advocate.
Sekiné-Khanoun. This business will not take long, Aga-Selman; it will soon be finished; it is matter for a single session. If witnesses are required to testify to the words of my brother, there are the soldiers—you can summon them as witnesses. I hope that you will undertake my case out of mere good-will toward me.
Aga-Selman. Do you know the names and addresses of these soldiers?
Sekiné-Khanoun. Yes. Aziz-Bey will write the information on a sheet of paper and will hand it to you.
Aga-Selman. Since you depend upon me, I accept the case; but on condition that it is not to turn out a long one, for if it is likely to last for any period, it will not be possible for me to devote myself to it.
Sekiné-Khanoun. It is matter for a single day, and in recompense for your trouble I will give you a fee of 500 tomans.
Aga-Selman. That is scarcely necessary, madame. I engage in this business purely out of regard for you, and without motives of self-interest.[42]
Sekiné-Khanoun. I know it, Aga-Selman, but I offer you this sum as pocket-money for your children.
Aga-Selman. Allow me now to retire, madame; I must go and find the soldiers and ask them to come and testify at the trial. As for you, make out a brief and send it to me.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Very good, I will prepare and send it to you. But I would remind you, Aga-Selman, that Aga-Merdan is said to be very crafty; leave nothing undone to defeat his tricks.
Aga-Selman. Keep your mind easy, madame, his tricks will avail nothing against me. Aziz-Bey, make a note of the names and addresses of these soldiers and send the particulars to me.
Aziz-Bey. Yes, yes; they will be at your house in less than an hour. [Aga-Selman rises and goes out. Aziz-Bey and Sekiné-Khanoun remain alone.]
Aziz-Bey. As for me, I am going to tell the whole story to the Prince Royal.
Sekiné-Khanoun. Sit down. First of all write the names and addresses of the soldiers, and send them to Aga-Selman; then you can leave me. [Aziz-Bey sits down to write.]
The action passes in the house of Aga-Merdan, son of the confectioner.
Aga-Merdan [discovered seated alone]. I do not know what can have happened that Aga-Kerim is so late in coming. He must have been planning that Aga-Selman may be Sekiné-Khanoun’s advocate, and this is probably what has detained him. If this affair succeeds, as I predict, beside the fact that I shall gain no small sum of money, my reputation will be spread through the whole city and will rise sky high. That is to say, that this lawsuit is an inexhaus[43]tible mine of wealth to the man who can direct it and make it turn out aright. Thank God, I am not troubled about that. [While he speaks the door opens, and Aga-Kerim enters the room.]
Aga-Kerim [gayly.] Good-day. Congratulate me; I have arranged everything.
Aga-Merdan [with a smile]. Really? Is it credible?
Aga-Kerim. Yes, on your soul it is. I have praised you so highly to the widow of Hadji-Ghafour that if you had been there you would not have believed your ears. “To-day,” I said to her, “there is no one of more consideration with the President of the Tribunal than Aga-Merdan. He is never deceived, and all he says comes to pass. At the palace among the advocates he is the only one recognized. This is so true of his reputation that on certain occasions he has public and private audiences with the Prince Royal. For knowledge of affairs he is the Plato of the century. Follow his advice implicitly, and do not be anxious about anything. It is only under his direction that you will be able to enter into possession of Hadji-Ghafour’s fortune; for, excepting through him, you have no right to the legacy!” The woman was well satisfied, even delighted, as was her brother, Aga-Abbas. Meanwhile they are coming to see you, in order that you may dictate to them the line they are to take.
Aga-Merdan. Very good, very good. But, tell me, have you been equally successful in securing for Aga-Selman the defence of the other party?
Aga-Kerim. Yes. Aga-Selman is at this very moment with Sekiné-Khanoun, and as soon as he is at liberty he will come here.
Aga-Merdan. It is wonderful, Aga-Kerim. By God, you work miracles with your tongue. But, tell me, is the widow of Hadji-Ghafour pretty?
Aga-Kerim. Why do you ask?
Aga-Merdan. Why, because I want her to fall in love with me, and marry me. Why should she not be my wife?[44]
Aga-Kerim. How can I tell you whether she will love you or not? Your age is a little advanced and the woman is young.
Aga-Merdan. No, Aga-Kerim, as sure as death, I am not so advanced in age. I am exactly fifty-one.
Aga-Kerim. I shouldn’t have believed it; I thought you were seventy.
Aga-Merdan. Seventy? Not on your life. You know I was born the year of the great earthquake at Tebriz.
Aga-Kerim. You are married already.
Aga-Merdan. I do not wish to marry her because I am in want of a wife. But this is how I consider the matter: If we succeed in carrying off all this fortune from Hadji-Ghafour’s sister, and transferring it to this woman, why should it go to another husband? Let me marry the woman, and the fortune becomes mine at the same time. This is also in your interest; what advantage will you otherwise gain from it?
Aga-Kerim. Yes, but in that case what matters whether she be pretty or plain? It would be much better that she should be a monster, if in that way she would become enamored of you, and consent to marry you. But she is not plain, and I do not believe she would find you to her taste.
Aga-Merdan. Do you mean that I am not likely to please her, and to be accepted by her?
Aga-Kerim. Come now, do not you know this yourself? Your face is certainly not particularly captivating.
Aga-Merdan. Of course I cannot truly say what effect I produce on you. Let me look at myself a little in the glass. [He looks at himself in a wardrobe mirror.] By God, Aga-Kerim, what do you find to criticise in my appearance? Do you mean that my teeth are gone? They fell out through an inflammation, and not from old age. It is true that my jaws are slightly wrinkled, but this is not seen, the beard hides it.
Aga-Kerim. Good for you. That is sufficient. Now sit down; she will soon be here.
Aga-Merdan. Wait a while; let me put on my cashmere robe, button my surtout, and comb my beard. Then I will come and sit down. [He begins to dress himself.]
Aga-Kerim. Is all this necessary? Do sit down.
Aga-Merdan. Certainly it is necessary. Our women always veil themselves from the eyes of men, but they are extremely fond of gazing at us. If the widow of Hadji-Ghafour sees me in full dress she will have more consideration for me, and my words will have more influence on her mind. It is even possible that I may prove captivating to her. [He dresses, combs his beard, and seats himself. At this moment the door opens, and the widow of Hadji-Ghafour enters with her brother, Aga-Abbas.]
Aga-Abbas. Good-day, gentlemen.
Aga-Merdan. Good-day to you both. You are very welcome, and your visit gives me great pleasure. Be good enough to sit down. [The widow of Hadji-Ghafour, wearing a veil, sits down, and so does her brother.] I am going to address my remarks to you, Aga-Abbas; Madame Zeineb will hear, and will answer when necessary. Six months ago Hadji-Ghafour died. It is necessary that the root of the matter be made clear, and without mystery. Everyone knows that Zeineb-Khanoun was not the legal wife of Hadji-Ghafour; she cannot, therefore, pretend to receive whatever of fortune there is by right of inheritance. But having learned this circumstance, I sent Aga-Kerim to you to inform you that if you wish to take my advice, and govern yourselves according to the measures I shall take, I can find a way to bring all this fortune into the hands of Zeineb-Khanoun. As you know, the sister of Hadji-Ghafour is an orphan, she has neither relatives nor family to abet her. The young lady has indeed a lover, but this young man is no match for me. You have accepted my proposals, and have forbidden the President of the Tribunal to deliver to the sister of Hadji-Ghafour the sum which the latter had deposited into the judge’s hands until you have shown cause why. The President of the Tribunal has held the money, and has next notified you and the sister of Hadji-Ghafour to employ counsel, and to bring your case before the Tribunal, in order to state the object[46] of your petition. I am the man whom you have empowered to act for you. But it is necessary that madame should listen attentively to all that I am going to say, and that she comport herself in accordance with my advice; if she wishes the affair to turn out in accordance with our desires.
Aga-Abbas. Certainly. Nothing can be done without this. Come, then, detail to us the conditions which you would impose upon Zeineb.
Aga-Merdan. First of all, Zeineb-Khanoun must deposit with me a fund of 500 tomans to meet certain unavoidable expenses; the remainder of the dues will be paid afterward. Zeineb-Khanoun has herself declared to Aga-Kerim that at the death of Hadji-Ghafour there were a thousand tomans left in the strong-box, and that she carried them off, without the knowledge of the dead man’s sister.
Zeineb-Khanoun. I make no objection to your demands on this point; tell me your other condition.
Aga-Merdan. It will be also necessary, madame, that you be satisfied with one-half of the legacy; that is to say, that of the 60,000 tomans half goes to you and the other half, some 30,000 tomans, is to be divided between Aga-Kerim and me, as comrades, friends, and associates.
Zeineb-Khanoun. Good gracious, Aga-Merdan, but this is exorbitant!
Aga-Merdan. It is by no means excessive, Madame. You have no right to this inheritance; the 30,000 tomans are therefore my free gift to you.
Zeineb-Khanoun. What do you mean? I have no rights? For years I have trudged up and down the house of Hadji-Ghafour; all the closet keys were in my hands; I had all I desired, and it was I who controlled the expenses. So long as Hadji-Ghafour lived his sister could not dispose of a single franc of his. What has happened that I am to be thrust on one side, and that this adventuress is to come and carry off all the money; that she is to drink it up, and spend it in order to have a wedding with a young scamp?
Aga-Merdan. Such reasons as these are not listened to by the Tribunal.[47]
Zeineb-Khanoun. What! not listened to? Ought not justice to be considered in a lawsuit? For ten years and more this fortune remained in my hands, and now I am to be stripped of it!
Aga-Merdan. Yes, indeed, and you ought to be stripped of it. Listen to me. Surrender one-half of this inheritance, for in reality you have no right to a single penny of it. Aga-Abbas is well acquainted with the matter, and he knows what I say is true.
Aga-Abbas. Yes, we accept the condition. What conditions beside these do you impose?
Aga-Merdan. My third condition is that Zeineb-Khanoun shall declare in presence of the President of the Tribunal that she has by Hadji-Ghafour a child now seven months old, and still at the breast; this child she shall present before the Tribunal.
Zeineb-Khanoun. Oh, oh, Aga-Merdan, this is very, very hard. How can I dare to tell such a lie? That I have a child seven months old!
Aga-Merdan. It is not hard at all. While Hadji-Ghafour was living you were enceinte. A month before his death you brought into the world a little boy—now seven months old. Is there any difficulty in stating that?
Zeineb-Khanoun. I look upon you as my father, Aga-Merdan, and I will never contravene your counsels; but this condition is too hard. Will not people say to me, knowing I have never had a child, “Where is your child? Where is your child?”
Aga-Merdan. Don’t distress yourself on that score. The child is all ready. You have brought him into the world. The babe has been in your arms, and in the arms of Hadji-Ghafour. There are even people that will testify to that effect. Don’t distress yourself about these matters; simply make your statement, and others will confirm it.
Zeineb-Khanoun. In the name of God, Aga-Merdan, impose upon me some condition that I can fulfil; this is really too trying. How can I perpetrate such a falsehood? I’d never dare to talk in that way.
Aga-Merdan. You are talking nonsense, Zeineb-Khanoun! I know what you mean by all this. Why would you not[48] dare to say it? Why are you ashamed to do so? Everybody knows that it is the business of women to produce children. What shame is there in it? You have perhaps never been enceinte, and you have never borne a child. Let it be so; but he who wants to catch a fish must put his hand into cold water. It is quite necessary that you make this declaration. There is no other way of succeeding.
Zeineb-Khanoun. What end do you wish to gain by this, Aga-Merdan?
Aga-Merdan. I wish by this means to have the fortune of Hadji-Ghafour secured to you, and in order to arrive at this result, there is no other expedient possible but this one. You cannot inherit from your husband in your own name. Your child, on the other hand, is heir at law. When the existence of your child is proved all the fortune reverts to him. I will then have myself without difficulty appointed his guardian; then in five or six months, I will give it out that the child is dead, and in that case the inheritance will be legally transferred to you. You will take half of it and give me the other half. God is the best foster-father.
Zeineb-Khanoun. O you for whom I would give my life, can such a lie be uttered?
Aga-Merdan. If the sister of Hadji-Ghafour had anyone to maintain her cause do you think that she would fail to defeat us? But to-day she has no one to oppose us, and plead her cause for her. If she had married Aga-Hassam, the merchant, the business would have been very difficult for us. But now, Aga-Hassam, himself, and all his influential kinsfolk have become enemies of this young lady; they desire that this fortune should not be hers. The girl is deserted and left with her lover, who is good for nothing.
Zeineb-Khanoun. Well, well! and this child of whom you speak, where is he?
Aga-Merdan. You are going to see him this moment.—Aga-Kerim, go and take the child from the arms of his nurse there in the chamber. Bring him in for madame to see. [Aga-Kerim goes out to fetch the child.]
Zeineb-Khanoun. Is she a wet-nurse?
Aga-Merdan. No, it is his own mother who has him at the breast. But she becomes his nurse now. [Aga-Kerim returns, carrying the child in his arms. Aga-Merdan takes it and gives it to Zeineb-Khanoun.]
Aga-Merdan. This is your child. You see his eyes and brows are exactly those of Hadji-Ghafour.
Zeineb-Khanoun. My God, one might take it for his portrait! But I fear that at the trial my tongue will refuse to tell this lie.
Aga-Merdan. The cause of your fears, Zeineb-Khanoun, is that you are not persuaded that you yourself are not the mother of this child. You must, before everything else, bear well in mind that this is your child, or else you will lose countenance at the hearing, and will stand before the judge with closed mouth. Have no fear, and give me your word that you will make the declaration as I dictate.
Zeineb-Khanoun. Yes, I promise you, if I am able.
Aga-Merdan. You will be able, please God. It would be fine, in truth, if your sister-in-law should carry off the whole inheritance, and squander it with a scamp, trimming his mustache with it.
Zeineb-Khanoun. Yes, by God, you are right. But one thing troubles me. Will not the advocate of Sekiné-Khanoun discover my falsehood?
Aga-Merdan. Ha! ha! ha! See how frightened she is of him! Fear nothing. He won’t say a single word to expose you. Go now and get your application to the judge drawn up. All must be ready by to-morrow. As for me, I have another matter to attend to. Another person is looking for me; I have a thousand suits in hand. Take Aga-Kerim with you, and give him the 500 tomans; he will bring them to me.
Aga-Abbas. The money is ready. We have brought it. Aga-Kerim had told us to do so beforehand.[50]
Aga-Merdan. Very good; leave it with me and retire. [Aga-Abbas puts down the sum of money in a purse before Aga-Kerim. At the moment when Zeineb and Aga-Abbas rise to depart Nasser, the valet of the Prince Royal, approaches Aga-Merdan.]
Nasser. Good-day, gentlemen. Aga-Merdan, the Prince Royal begs that you will come to his house this evening and spend an hour with him. He requires your services in an important affair.
Aga-Merdan. Tell your master in reply that I am at his service. [The lackey retires. Soon afterward, Eced, the servant of the President of the Tribunal, arrives.]
Eced. Good-day, gentlemen. Aga-Merdan, my master invites you to dine with him this evening at the home of Hadji-Semi. He has pressing business on which he wishes to consult you.
Aga-Merdan. You may tell your master that I will be there, and consent merely to please him. [Aga-Abbas and his sister retire.]
Aga-Kerim. I do not understand where this messenger of the Prince Royal and this servant of the judge came from.
Aga-Merdan. I felt that the woman might be troubled with regard to the conditions which I imposed upon her. This is the reason why I bribed these individuals to deliver such messages in her presence. I did so in order that she might imagine me to be the friend of the Prince Royal and the boon companion of the President of the Tribunal, in order that she might recover her spirits. I was afraid that otherwise she would not dare to make her allegations at the hearing of the case, and so we should be nonsuited.
Aga-Kerim. By God, your idea was a happy one, but at the hearing of the case we must keep our eye on her. If pos[51]sible we must manage that she gives her evidence after I have brought on the witnesses. You will promise her as her share 500 tomans; fifty in cash, and the balance later. The witnesses shall each have thirty tomans; fifteen in cash, and fifteen afterward. We will give up this sum after winning the lawsuit, in order that the inspector may not poke his nose into our business; but you know that the affair cannot be made to succeed without his aid, he is so crafty. You know he has already on one occasion detected our game. We cannot cheat him.
Aga-Kerim. Very good. I will go and see about it. [He rises from his seat to retire.]
Aga-Merdan. By the by, just stop one moment. I have an idea which I wish to communicate, and do not forget the hint. When you see the widow of Hadji-Ghafour, give her to understand, in one way or another, that she must not call me “father.” As sure as death you must attend to this. I don’t like the woman to address me by such a name as father, as if they thought it pleased me. What need can there be to call me by this title?
Aga-Kerim. Well! Well! Do not swear any more. I know what you are driving at. Let your mind be easy. I will tell her not to call you her father again, but to call you her lord. [Aga-Kerim leaves, and on his departure, Aga-Selman enters.]
Aga-Selman. Good-day, Aga-Merdan.
Aga-Merdan. Ah, good-day! Come now, how are things getting along?
Aga-Selman. I am intrusted with the defence; it is all arranged. But, tell me, what do you think is now to be done?
Aga-Merdan. I think we would do well to prepare the witnesses, and to take them to the court-room. What honorarium have you been promised?
Aga-Selman. They have promised me only 500 tomans; their witnesses, they say, are all ready, the course of the trial plain, and there is nothing either obscure or mysterious in it. I have expressed my satisfaction.[52]
Aga-Merdan. You have done well; but you know that there is not much profit in defending a good cause. The widow of Hadji-Ghafour sacrifices 30,000 tomans, these 30,000 tomans will be for us two and for Aga-Kerim. Have you ascertained the names of the witnesses? Have you learned their addresses?
Aga-Selman. Yes, I have learned and noted all these things. These witnesses are four soldiers: Bedel, Quhreman, Ghaffer, and Nezer—all of Nerdji Street.
Aga-Merdan. I must send and fetch them, and impress upon them to testify exactly opposite to what they saw. But, first of all, you must go and find them, and beg them, on your part, to bear faithful testimony. As soldiers are willing but poor, much the same as wretched beggars, these men will ask you what present you intend to make them after the trial. “My children,” you must answer them, “in an affair like this, it is not good to ask for a fee. You ought to give in your testimony solely for the sake of pleasing God, and he will fully reward you on the day of the resurrection.”
Aga-Selman. Very good.
Aga-Merdan. You cannot guess even approximately what will be the testimony of these soldiers?
Aga-Selman. Oh, yes, I know that. They will declare that two hours before the death of Hadji-Ghafour they betook themselves to his home, and that he said to them: “I am dying; and have no one in the world surviving me but a sister. Bury me as soon as I am dead.”
Aga-Merdan. Very good; but they will have to change that, and say that Hadji-Ghafour had a little son one month old. Exert yourself now, and go after these soldiers. [Aga-Selman rises and leaves.]
Aga-Merdan [alone]. Thanks be to God, events are turning out excellently. This is the time when Aga-Kerim is to bring his witnesses. [At this moment the door opens, and Aga-Kerim enters the room with the Inspector of the Market and four other individuals.]
The Inspector. Good-day, Aga-Merdan.
Aga-Merdan [to Aga-Kerim, without turning or recognizing the Inspector]. Good-day, you have found the Inspector?
The Inspector. No need to find him, for he was never lost. That was an odd question of yours, Aga-Merdan. I see that you do not yet recognize me.
Aga-Merdan [first of all leading aside Aga-Kerim]. Go and fetch Aga-Selman, and make him point out to you the soldiers he spoke of, then bring them to me. [Turns toward the Inspector.] My lord, present these gentlemen to me and inform me what sort of men they are.
The Inspector. Here is Hepou, a professional gambler, who arrived here from Ardebil yesterday; the next is the famous Cheida, of Quzvin, who keeps a bank during the day, and dissipates during the night; then follows Qourban-Ali, of Hamaden, who is Jack-of-all-trades during the night, a hosier in the bazaar by daylight, and lodges with me at night.
Aga-Merdan. God be praised, they are all honest people, of good standing. But the profession of Hepou is slightly open to suspicion. There will be some distrust roused by his presence.
The Inspector. Do not be alarmed. Hepou is an old fox who will fool anyone. Do you wish him to appear as a distinguished merchant he will present himself before you, and you yourself would not recognize him. You are doubtless unaware of the fact that he is of a race whose skill has been tested. He is the son of Heides-Qouli, whose foot was cut off. One day, Heides-Qouli was seen in the city of Eher. He traversed on foot two posts during the night, and reached Tebriz, stole from the house of the defunct governor a casket of pearls belonging to the latter, and returned to Eher the same night; at dawn, he was found asleep in the corridor of the caravansary. Everyone was astounded at this feat. It was only on account of the credit he got for it that he was not put to death immediately on detection. They merely cut off his foot and let him go.[54]
Aga-Merdan. This, then, is the son of Heides of the docked foot? Very good; but we will change his name. All these men are well acquainted with legal procedure, are they not?
The Inspector. Let your mind be easy on that point; they are all educated; by my life, they could make slippers for the devil. There is none like them; every day they meet together and offer the Lord’s Prayer in the mosque.
Aga-Merdan. Very good. Do they know what sort of testimony they are expected to give?
The Inspector. No, you will have to teach them that yourself.
Aga-Merdan. Good. They must depose as follows: One evening at sunset a week before the death of Hadji-Ghafour, we were going all four of us to pay a visit to the houses of the dead. In passing before the house of Hadji-Ghafour we saw him standing at his gate and holding in his arms a babe in long clothes. We saluted him, and asked him how his health was? “Whose child is that?” we said to him. “It is my own,” he answered, “he was born three weeks ago. He is my only son; I have no other child.”
The Inspector [turning to the witnesses]. Do you understand, boys?
Hepou. Yes, we understand.
Aga-Merdan. Can you repeat the story as I told it?
Hanife. Undoubtedly so; there are no far-fetched expressions to puzzle us.
Aga-Merdan. Very good, my friends. May God bless you!
Cheida. How in the name of everything, Aga-Merdan, would God bless such a transaction as this?
Aga-Merdan. Why not? My dear friend, if you were acquainted with the whole affair you would certainly say yourself that God would bless it. The unhappy widow of Hadji-Ghafour has been for ten years mistress of his house and fortune. Would it be just that a sickly wench should carry off all this money, and proceed to enjoy it with a base loafer, a heretic, and for the sole reason that the latter is to have criminal relations with her? Accord[55]ing to the words of your doctors, the Sunnites are excluded from the court of heaven.
Cheida. Now, by God, but you speak the truth!
The Inspector. Come now, Aga-Merdan, fix the fee to be paid the boys.
Aga-Merdan. What? Has not Aga-Kerim done so? I said that I would give thirty tomans to each of those gentlemen. You know, yourself, what your share is to be.
The Inspector. Yes, but you must advance to the lads the half of their fee.
Aga-Merdan. Most willingly, if you will now retire. Aga-Kerim will bring your fifty tomans for yourself, as well as half of the fee to be paid to each of these young men.
The Inspector. Very good. God protect you. [The Inspector retires with his followers, then the door opens again, and four soldiers enter with Aga-Kerim.]
The Soldiers. Good-day, sir.
Aga-Merdan. Good-day, my lads. Be good enough to take a seat. You are extremely welcome. Excuse the trouble which I have given you.
One of the Soldiers. Don’t mention it, sir; it is ours to be grateful for the honor of entering the house of a man so honorable.
Aga-Merdan. A well-educated man is well received anywhere. Have you lunched?
The Soldiers. No, we arrived before luncheon time.
Aga-Merdan. Aga-Kerim, send someone to the bazaar to purchase for the boys four portions of rice of kebah, likewise of ice and citron cup. See there be an extra supply of kebah, for they are very hungry. You’ll like a great deal, won’t you?
A Soldier. Why take all this trouble, my lord? We will repair ourselves to the bazaar, and eat a bit there.
Aga-Merdan. What trouble is it, my dear friend? It is lunch time, why should you wish to leave my house fasting and famished? Please God, my plan is best.
The Soldier. My lord, what do you desire of us?[56]
Aga-Merdan. Nothing much, my lad; I only wish to ask you a plain question.
The Soldier. Speak, my lord—two if you like.
Aga-Merdan. Did you bear to burial Hadji-Ghafour?
The Soldier. Yes, my lord, it was we who buried him. Why do you ask?
Aga-Merdan. Ah, I congratulate you on your generous conduct. Your company is always a great honor, not only because you are the defenders of Islam, but also because you do good service to all people in their days of distress. While the cholera prevailed there remained scarce a living soul in the town; you alone did not quit it, making in advance the sacrifice of your lives. May the Thrice Holy Majesty of God reward you worthily for this! But did you ever see Hadji-Ghafour when he was alive, my son?
The Soldier. Yes, my lord, we saw him alive.
Aga-Merdan. In that case, you must also at his side have seen his little son in long clothes, who was then a month old.
The Soldier. No, my lord, we never saw him.
Aga-Merdan. Perhaps he was at that moment in his mother’s arms?
The Soldier. No, my lord. We asked Hadji-Ghafour how many children he had, sons or daughters, big or little, and he answered that only a sister would survive him.
Aga-Merdan. That is possible; he did not count his son because the latter was only a baby, one month old. But this babe was then in the arms of his mother; other people have seen him there; and I believe that you have also seen him. There is no harm done; it is all right. But in this case what testimony will you give? For, as you know, there is a lawsuit between the heirs as to the rights of succession.
The Soldier. We will testify of what we have been informed. The advocate of Hadji-Ghafour’s sister has already questioned us on this point, and we have corroborated his account.
Aga-Merdan. Ah, I understand why you speak thus; it is because the discourse of this wretched renegade has produced an impression on your mind. Therefore you deny[57] the existence of the child. He has doubtless promised you for this twenty tomans, and has advanced you ten.
The Soldier. No, my lord, he did not promise us a penny, and even when we asked for a little present he told us that a witness ought to be disinterested, and that we ought to expect our recompense from God alone.
Aga-Merdan. Oh, the accursed rogue! See how mean, grasping, and close he is! He won’t let anyone profit by a penny excepting himself, and while he tries unjustly to obtain evidence in his favor, in a suit for 60,000 tomans, he grudges to spend twenty or thirty tomans on such kind young fellows as you! By God, there is not in the whole world another wretch like him! May God punish him by utter ruin! His work is unjust, and his conduct ignoble, and he himself a skinflint and a robber.
The Soldier. How is his work unjust, my lord?
Aga-Merdan. Because he evidently wishes to deny the existence of the little seven months’ old child of Hadji-Ghafour. He wishes to cast out this child, and deprive him of his patrimony, in order that the sister of Hadji-Ghafour may get it. But God will not favor this action; he will prove that the child is still alive, and that his existence cannot be overlooked. Can such a thing be denied? I am the defender of this poor little orphan. I have sworn to give thirty tomans to whoever will testify in favor of this child, and as I know and believe that you have seen him I have this sum ready here, in cash. But what good is it after all, since you say that you have no recollection of the child? Yet perhaps if you were to see him now, your mind might recall him.—Aga-Kerim, go into the house, take the child from the arms of its mother, Zeineb-Khanoun, and bring him here. [Aga-Kerim soon returns with the little boy, whom he has found in the next room.]
Aga-Merdan. Consider well, my lads, how is it possible that you have not seen this little boy? Would it be humane to let another person swallow up the heritage of this little orphan who cannot speak to defend himself, and that the[58] unhappy creature be abandoned to sigh and mourn in the streets and behind doors. Perhaps in the excitement of all this trouble you have paid no attention to this child. There are times when people seem to lose their heads.—Aga-Kerim, take from the closet the offering of this young child, and bring it here. [Aga-Kerim immediately takes from the closet four packets wrapped in paper and lays them within Aga-Merdan’s reach.]
Aga-Merdan. My dear friends, beside the reward which God will most certainly give you, this little orphan has made to each one of you an offering of thirty tomans enclosed in these four sheets of paper. He is not like that cursed Aga-Selman, who would impose upon you a dishonest action, yet from avarice gives you nothing as a recompense.
A Soldier [suddenly turning to his comrades]. Tell me, Quhreman, am I mistaken, for it seems to me that I do recall hearing the voice of a little child, while we were at the house of Hadji-Ghafour.
Quhreman. Yes, I remember it; there was a woman seated in the corner of the house and she held in her arms a little child in long clothes.
Ghaffer. Why, of course! I remember that Hadji-Ghafour said to us: “This is my wife, and this little child is my son; his mother brought him into the world a month ago.”
Nezer. Well, now, to think how we have forgotten this incident! It is true, there are days when people lose their wits. Yes, indeed; did not Hadji-Ghafour ask us to watch over his house, his wife, and his little child, until the inhabitants returned, for fear that the villains of the town should do them some harm?
All the Soldiers [in chorus]. Yes, he commended to our care his wife and his child.
Aga-Merdan. May God bless you, my lads! I knew well that you would recall it to mind. Accept, then, the offering of this orphan, and spend it as you choose. After the trial is over, please God, ten tomans more will come to each one of you. A good and sincere action is never lost. My lads, bear witness before the Tribunal exactly as you have done here, and afterward pocket your money.[59]
One of the Soldiers. But, my lord, we have promised to Aga-Selman to testify in his favor. Must we meanwhile inform him that we cannot be his witnesses?
Aga-Merdan. No; you need not say anything to him. Let him think all the time that you are his witnesses, and that he himself brings you before the Tribunal; when there, deliver your testimony just as you have now done. Aga-Selman has no rights over you, and he can make no claim upon you. If he asks why you speak so, you must answer that it is because you know what the truth is, and are bearing witness to it. Then, you shall pocket your money. The rice has come; go into that room and do me the favor to rest yourselves. But I have one thing to ask of you; no one must know that you have been summoned, and have come here. It is solely for the sake of pleasing God that you will keep this secret, but I promise in return for your secrecy to give to each one of you a Bokhara hat.
The Soldiers. Have no fear on this point, my lord.
Aga-Merdan. Aga-Kerim, lead these good fellows into that room that they may take their repast; afterward you may dismiss them.
Aga-Merdan. [alone]. So far, so good. Let us start for the court. I am going to get the assessors on my side, and to prepare them to act, so that to-morrow, at the time of deliberation, they may give me the necessary assistance.[60]
The scene is the Tribunal. The President is seated on a cushion, in the place of honor, having Aga-Rehim on his right, and Aga-Djebbar on his left. By their side are seated the ordinary assessors of the Tribunal, Aga-Bechin and Aga-Settar. On a lower bench is Aga-Merdan, advocate of Hadji-Ghafour’s widow, lolling easily upon his seat.
Aga-Bechin [addressing the President of the Tribunal]. Have you detected, my lord, by your intelligence and wisdom, the wiles of that woman who came yesterday to lodge a complaint? She stole three tomans from her husband; she was herself bruised with blows, and had artfully smeared her face with blood, and torn her hair—then she lodged a complaint against her husband.
The President. Did I not tell you that this woman inspired me with suspicion? We must clear the matter up.
Aga-Bechin. Yes, my lord, I wish merely to remark how marvellous is your sagacity! None in the whole court doubted the sincerity of this woman, but you at the first glance made us suspicious, and you were quite right.
The President. In such cases my opinion is often in accordance with the facts.
Aga-Bechin. One is quite right in the opinion that governments are guided by Divine wisdom. What is this suspicion but a direct inspiration from God?
Aga-Rehim. You seem very much astonished at it, Aga-Bechin, but the most Holy Majesty of God chooses for their merit, and places at the head of their contemporaries, those of his servants whom he has distinguished by special favor. Now, the most Holy Majesty of God has distinguished the President of the Tribunal with quite extraordinary gifts in regard to the knowledge of affairs. Would you like to know what this really is? It is not inspiration; it is, to my mind, a special gift of grace from God.[61]
Aga-Djebbar. Yes, you have the choice of the two opinions, either of which may be maintained. Is it not so, Aga-Merdan?
Aga-Merdan. Undoubtedly. It is certainly so.
Aga-Rehim. Aga-Merdan, how is the little boy of Hadji-Ghafour getting on?
Aga-Merdan. Very well, thank God. His mother understands it all, and he will come as soon as he is summoned to appear.
Aga-Djebbar. He must be fully seven months old, is he not?
Aga-Merdan. Yes, exactly seven months.
The President. How is this? Does a son survive Hadji-Ghafour? They told me that he had no child.
Aga-Bechin. But he had one, my lord; you have been misinformed. He left a little boy who is as beautiful as a crescent moon. Yesterday, as we returned from prayer, we saw him on the doorstep in the arms of his nurse.
Aga-Merdan. He and Hadji-Ghafour are as much alike as two halves of an apple.
Aga-Settar. Do you recall, my lord, the features of Hadji-Ghafour?
The President. Yes, it is not so long since he died.
Aga-Settar. Well, when you see the face of this child you would think at first sight that you beheld that of Hadji-Ghafour.
The President. I did not know that. It is very good. But tell me, Aga-Merdan, if there is a son of Hadji-Ghafour living, it is a waste of time to open the case. It is evident that the fortune of his father ought to revert to this child, and in such a case the other relatives and collateral heirs have no claim upon it.
Aga-Merdan [in a tone of perfect humility]. My lord, if I recounted to you the reason on which their claims are based, you might doubt of my sincerity. But Aga-Bechin will tell you the whole story.
Aga-Bechin. Permit me to relate the whole affair, my lord. Hadji-Ghafour left a sister, Sekiné-Khanoun. This woman is infatuated with a young man, whom she loves to madness, and wishes to wed. But the rogue does not so take it; he reminds her that he has nothing and expects[62] no fortune to come to him. What would he do with her? Meanwhile the damsel works tooth and nail to get into her own hands the inheritance left by Hadji-Ghafour, and so to bring about a marriage with this youngster. Her aunt wishes to marry her to the merchant Aga-Hassam, who is a rich and distinguished man; she refuses. She has chosen an advocate, and set up witnesses in support of her plea that Hadji-Ghafour left no child, and that the 60,000 tomans that constitute his heritage ought to come to her. The woman is half-witted if she imagines that she can carry off the heritage of Hadji-Ghafour by means of such tricks and artifices. This is an absurd idea, and she is giving herself a great deal of useless trouble.
The President. Very well. The affair is not so complicated or involved as to detain the court long; we shall probably be able to decide and pass sentence in two hours. The two parties must support their claims by testimony and proofs.
Aga-Merdan. Yes, my lord, the witnesses are all ready.
Aga-Settar [to the President of the Tribunal]. There were brought here yesterday, my lord, two little abandoned orphans. “We will look out,” you said, “for a servant of God, pious and charitable, and confide the children to him,” I believe you would do wisely by placing them in the care of Aga-Merdan. He will care for them as if they were his own, for he is always on the search for an opportunity of doing good.
The President. Very good. Do you consent to this, Aga-Merdan?
Aga-Merdan. With all my heart, my lord. I will care for them as if they were my own children.
The President. May the Master of the Universe recompense you as you deserve! [The door opens during these preliminaries and Aga-Selman enters with Aziz-Bey, in company with four soldiers. Shortly afterward Aga-Abbas and Zeineb-Khanoun, the widow of Hadji-Ghafour, arrive also, accompanied by their four witnesses. Zeineb-Khanoun sits down at one side of the hall, enveloped in a long veil. Aga-Selman, Aziz-Bey, and Aga-Abbas stand up on the other side of the hall.]
The President. Aga-Selman, it is said that Hadji-Ghafour left a son. Can you prove to the contrary?
Aga-Selman. I have witnesses, my lord, who will depose that in the hour of his death, Hadji-Ghafour declared to them that he had no other heir but his sister, Sekiné-Khanoun.
The President. Let the witnesses make their statement.
Aga-Selman [turning to the soldiers]. Make your statement.
The First Soldier. My lord, one day before the death of Hadji-Ghafour we went, my comrades and I, to pay him a visit. We asked him whether he had any children, sons or daughters, and he replied: “I have no one in the world but my sister, Sekiné-Khanoun.”
The President. Swear by the name of God that this is just what you heard.
The First Soldier. I swear by the name of God that this is just what I heard. [Aga-Merdan becomes quite pale, and seems thunderstruck, as does Aga-Selman.]
The President [turning to the other soldiers]. And you, what did you hear? Speak in turn.
The Second Soldier. I call God’s name to witness that this is just what I heard.
The Third Soldier. I call God’s name to witness that I also heard the same.
Aga-Merdan [in a voice trembling with anxiety]. But at that moment did you not perceive a little child in the arms of Hadji-Ghafour’s wife?
The First Soldier. It was elsewhere we saw the little child. Would you like us to state where?
Aga-Merdan. It is well. Keep silence. [Turning to the President of the Tribunal.] My lord, I have witnesses who saw an infant one month old in the arms of Hadji-Ghafour, on the very day of which the soldiers speak. “Whose child is this?” they asked Hadji-Ghafour, and he said to them in reply, “It is my son.” The witnesses are yonder, before you. [Beckons witnesses to advance.] They are all educated, honorable, and pious people.[64]
Aga-Settar [in a tone full of kindness toward Aga-Merdan]. Verily, Aga-Merdan, the father of this young man was a certain Hadji-Cherif.
Aga-Merdan. Yes, may God have mercy upon him! He belonged to a saintly family.
Aga-Settar. The son of such a father cannot but be an honorable man, and Hadji-Cherif was certainly a most strict man.
The President [turning to the witnesses]. Tell me what you know about it.
Hepou. Shall I tell all I know?
The President. Yes, all that you have learned about this affair.
Hepou. Well, my lord, yesterday Aga-Merdan asked us to come to his house, my companions and me. He gave each of us fifteen tomans to present ourselves here before you, and to declare that at the time of the cholera we saw in Hadji-Ghafour’s arms his little child, then one month old. As I am a gambler by profession, I accepted the money and took it; but this money had been given to me for doing evil, and brought me no profit. That night I lost the fifteen tomans to the last penny, for I had fallen in with a sad rogue to whom Leibadj himself could not hold a candle. I know nothing more than that, my lord. I have never seen Hadji-Ghafour, and didn’t even know him. [Aga-Merdan gasps with excitement.]
The President [to the other witnesses]. And you, what have you to say?
The Other Witnesses [in chorus]. We can only repeat what our comrade has said.
The President [to his assessors]. And you were affirming a moment ago that Aga-Merdan was a virtuous man! Your words prove your dishonesty and deceit. Praised be God in his greatness and sublimity. I do not understand what all this means.
Aga-Bechin. No, my lord, what proves, on the contrary, that we are honest and loyal men is that we have given faith to the words of Aga-Merdan, and have believed him to be a man of honor.
Aga-Rehim [sotto voce to Aga-Settar]. Oh, the liar, may the[65] devil take him! Do you hear this scoundrel Aga-Bechin, what a good excuse he has ready? The President believes him, and imagines that we are really honest and sincere. [At this moment the head bailiff of the Prince Royal enters.]
The Head Bailiff [to the President of the Tribunal]. My lord, the Prince Royal asks whether the rights of Hadji-Ghafour’s sister have been proved?
The President. Yes, they have been established. But does the Prince Royal know how the proof has been effected?
The Head Bailiff. Yes, my lord. The Inspector of the Market saw through the designs of Aga-Merdan and Aga-Selman. He informed the Prince Royal, who took the necessary measures for defeating their machinations. Meanwhile the crime of these two individuals has been proved, and I have received orders to lead them into the presence of the Prince Royal.
The President. Is Aga-Selman also implicated in this plot?
The Bailiff. Yes, he was the secret accomplice of Aga-Merdan. [The bailiff seizes Aga-Merdan and Aga-Selman and carries them off.]
The President. Aziz-Bey, you are to-day the protector of Sekiné-Khanoun. Go and tell her that in two hours I will take with me the sum of money left by Hadji-Ghafour, and bring it to her, and place it in her hands before the most honorable witnesses.
Aziz-Bey. It is well, my lord; I will go.
Aga-Bechin [striking his hands together]. By the death of the first-born, is it possible to utter fabrications such as those of this Aga-Merdan? O my God, what dishonest people have you created in your world! By his impostures, this wretch wished to set up a son to Hadji-Ghafour! Gentlemen, have you ever seen such audacity? Ah, you may[66] now treat me as a fool, Aga-Djebbar, and may say that I am exceedingly simple and guileless to believe what the first-comer tells me.
Aga-Djebbar [turning his face and speaking sotto voce]. Ah, the liar! May the devil carry him off! Oh, yes, you are simple and guileless—that is well known. [Then in a loud tone:] Let us adjourn, gentlemen. Let us abridge the fatigue of the President; he has gone through much exertion to-day. Why prolong this talk? [The President of the Tribunal leads the way out lost in thought. Then the others rise and leave.]
[Metrical Translation by E. J. W. Gibb, M. R. A. S.]
GAZEL
GAZEL
[Translated by A. P. de Courteille and Robert Arnot]
NABI Yousouf Efendi was born at Roha, about the year 1632, during the reign of Mourad IV. Coming to Constantinople in the time of Mahomet IV, he there attached himself to the all-powerful favorite Mustafa Pacha, who made him his secretary. In 1684, his protector having been made Serasker, he accompanied him to Morée. From there, he undertook the pilgrimage to Mecca and to Medina, and finally settled at Halep. It was during his stay in this city, about the year 1694, that he wrote, as he himself says, the poem dedicated to his son Aboul Khair. Some years after, Baltadji Mohammed Pacha, who was much attached to Nabi, recalled him to Constantinople, and appointed him president of the State treasury of Anatolia. He exchanged this position, however, for that of comptroller of the cavalry, in which he remained until his death, which occurred the twelfth of April, 1712.
Nabi is one of the Turkish classic authors; he occupies in Ottoman literature an exalted position, not only as a poet, but also as a prose writer. Under the title of Zeili Nabi, he wrote in the purest and most stately style an appendix to the “Life of Mahomet,” by Weïsi; this work was printed in Cairo in 1248. The imperial library has a copy of the complete works of Nabi. The manuscript is well written, but is filled with clerical errors. Beside the poems, it contains the letters of Nabi and his treatise on Mecca and Medina. The divan of our author is of considerable length; therein are found kassidès, chronograms, gazels, and two poems written for his son: the “Khai-riyè” and the “Khair-abâd.” This divan was written at Cairo in 1257.
The manuscript which has been used to verify the text was obtained from a learned teacher named Chinaci Efendi. The[166] translator has also referred, although with reserve, to the manuscript of the Imperial Library. The Cairo edition has not been very useful; it includes many readings, which are doubtful at best, and which have not been thought sufficiently important to note.
Those who have translated oriental poems know how difficult it is to remain exact without becoming unintelligible. The translator has endeavored to condense the text as much as possible, and has only departed from it insomuch as was necessary in order to make it intelligible. There is an obscure vagueness in Turkish poetry which passes for a kind of beauty in oriental eyes. The reader’s imagination loves to wander among these brilliant clouds; but the translator, forced to express himself clearly and openly, suffers much from this element of uncertainty.
The translator’s aim has been, above all, to provide for persons who are studying the Turkish language a work of a simple and elegant classic style and of moderate price, which will be a preparation for the reading of more difficult writings.[167]
ALL praise to the Most High God, Creator of all that exists; who with his all-powerful pen has traced the characters of the world. Benign Lord, whose mercy is stretched forth over all men, whose benevolent hand has graven the image of existence on the tablet of the vow, from that void which, like a funeral mound, opened and disclosed its secrets. The Lord weighed in the balance of destiny chaos and existence; the aspect of existence became brilliant, and its forms were reflected in the mirror of chaos, whose burning gulf disappeared, and the veil which concealed the world was raised. Land was extended like a mantle over the world, and above was curved the celestial dome. The four elements and heaven became as a festal cup adorned with four roses. The Lord, uniting the two sexes, lit between them the torch of love. Then appeared the three reigns of nature: the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal. The inexhaustible munificence of the Almighty continued; next came the creation of man. God placed him above all living beings; formed from the slime of the earth, he was the noblest, the most perfect of all creatures. Although he had been moulded of earth and mud, the angels were ordered to bow down before him; the ladder of the divine decisions having been placed, man ascended to the first place in creation.
In all things there are different degrees, distinctions, and divisions, everything has different properties; nature has diversified all things, all men form quite distinct classes, and from these distinctions issues perfect order. Without them, the edifice of creation would be demolished; but how can the ignorant[168] understand the mysteries therein? Water cannot have all the properties of fire; earth cannot produce the effects of wind. Gold is impotent to replace iron; sugar will never have the flavor of salt. The foot does not play the same role as the hand; the lancet does not serve the purposes of the sword. Hearing cannot take the place of sight; the shoulder cannot reflect as does the mind. The jeweller does not know the weaver’s art, nor does the carpenter understand the labors of the shoemaker. Nations understand nothing of the actions of those who govern them, and kings, in their turn, know not all that concerns their subjects. Warmth never produces the effect of cold; dryness and humidity are incompatible. Shade does not undergo the action of the sun, and the goblet is insensible to the transports agitating Djemschid.
Therefore understand this truth: thy nature is but formed of incongruous elements. Everywhere glaring contrasts are perceived in all objects. The wisdom and the might of God have no bounds, it is a spectacle without end. All the parts of creation are thus arranged: raise thy mind’s eye as high as it can reach. In this world and in the next, in the form of facts as in their reality, on all sides are encountered different degrees. In the spiritual order there are also many distinctions, like a sea with innumerable waves. He who has penetrated the farthest in the mysteries of creation has said that society is only founded on the distinction of classes. The friends of God are high-placed, but higher still are those whom he has created prophets.
It may be said that the prophets are in the place of honor on the light-giving throne as a brilliant star which irradiates its marvellous splendor to far distant worlds. But above all, and in the most exalted place, sits the king of creation, he for whom all was created, pre-eminently the elect of God, the precious pearl of the ocean of divine generosity, the luscious fruit of the garden of creation, he who opened the gate of the treasure of light, he for whom was limned the picture of this world, he of whom it is written in the beginning of the book of fates, he in whom was all accomplished, the principle of the operations of divine mercy, the last end of the omnipotence of the Lord, he who includes in himself the form and essence of all things, the dazzling light of the torch of immutable destiny, the orna[169]ment of existence’s throne, the guardian of the treasures of altitude and depth, and the seal of the mystery of the two worlds.
He it is who hath approached to God as near as two arcs, or even nearer, to whom all has been revealed; who, mounted proudly on the mighty Boraq, traversed the ethereal regions; the universal ruler throwing radiance over the domain of sovereign authority; the luminous eastern star of science, the all-excelling master of the apostolate of nations, on whom descended the glorious revelation, the most beautiful among the children of men, the most perfect of beings, the most noble of all creatures, the fountain of the graces shed on mankind, the soul of the world, the centre of creation, the illustrious and glorious Mahomet, in whom the Lord delights, the origin of all bearers of that venerable name, the most perfect of all in all degrees.
The word which proclaims him the first work come forth from the hands of God has shed universal joy. His person is the seal of glory and greatness; he is the centre of all purity, the arbiter of celestial revolutions; in him is the consummation of all perfection. As a seed concealed in the depths of the invisible earth, he appeared loaded with fruit. If you trace the rounded figure of a mim you will form Ahmed from the word Ahad, and if you ask where is the first letter of the Prophet’s name, you will find it in the second part of the word Mahomet. The Lord has raised him above all; he has overwhelmed him with graces and blessings. Benedictions upon him, on his family and his friends till the day of resurrection!
Aboul Khair Mohammed Tchélebi, thou who art the ornament of Halep, part of my being, substance of my life, first fruit of the garden of my happiness, thou art the luminous ray of my life, thou art the essence of the blessings which make me prosper. The Lord in his bounty has given thee to Nabi, O Joseph of thy father! O noble son! thou art indeed the living proof of the truth that the son is the joy of the father.[170] Thou art, O light of mine eyes, the ornament of the garden-plot of paternal existence. Since thou hast become a shade for my head I see thee alone in this world. Thou who art endowed with all the graces, I have received thee from the hand of the Almighty in my declining days.
When thou didst appear on the horizon of the world as a moon of beauty, I had already passed my tenth lustre. Thou wert given to me when I was fifty-four, and it is in thy eighth year that this book is written. My place of nativity is the charming city of Edessa; but I was dwelling in Halep when I wrote this work. Edessa! type of the eternal flower-garden, native soil of the well-beloved of God, object of the emulation of all Syria, scene of the marvellous deliverance of Abraham! I sojourned thirty years at Adrianople and at Constantinople. Thanks to God! I, a poor slave, have been honored with many dignities. Having no longer taste for business, I enjoyed the repose given by retreat. The water and the excellence of the climate determined me to select Halep as an abiding place.
Light of my hopes, gift bestowed on me by the omnipotent and glorious God! God be praised, thou art of a noble family; thy ancestors have all distinguished themselves in science. Although their worth is not sufficiently esteemed, learned men all occupy an elevated position. But of what use is the worth of thy father and of thy ancestors, if thou dost not raise thyself by thy talent? Thy origin is pure, O creature of God! He who is well born ought not to fall! All that nature has given me of worth is found complete in thyself. Thou hast many noble and good qualities which nothing, by the grace of God, can mar. Thy good nature sheds afar its perfume, thou dost manifest the traces of innate morality. The grace of God will come to thy aid, and thy natural capacities will easily surmount all difficulties. God protect thee and prosper thee! mayst thou long sojourn in this transitory world![171]
But in order that paternal advice may make a profound impression upon children, and that you may cherish it as a precious jewel and make it the subject of your meditations, after having practised my mind and grasped the pen of art, and having brought forth from my heart’s mine pearls worthy to wreathe a poetic garland, I wrote in verse a book of morals which may perhaps charm the intelligent. I have adorned it with the ornaments of poetry, and I have entitled it “The Good Book.”
Reverently press it to thy heart, and look upon it as a guardian amulet. Each day, O soul of thy father, hearken to the words of this jewel. Engrave them with care on thy mind, and never separate from it a single instant. Let, until the day of the resurrection, its salutary influence be exerted on thee and on all others. As long as this table shall be prepared, may young people come to seat themselves here as thy guests. And thou, as much as thou shalt relish the joy of these riches, bless the name of thy father and of thy mother. Rejoice me by the expression of thy gratitude; then remember me in thy prayers.
O cypress of the slender form gracefully swaying in the garden of creation, learn from me what is the thing most necessary to man above all his temporal occupations. He should reflect on his end, he should embellish the edifice of his religion; the five columns on which this edifice rests are themselves based upon wisdom. It is within this enclosure that peace reigns; beyond, the shocks of adversity are to be feared. There extends a delightful garden; here opens the burning abyss of hell. There, also, are the sectarians of the straight and perfect road; here, those who are lost in error.
Observe religiously the precept of prayer; acquit thyself, if thou canst, of the obligation of pilgrimage and of the tithe in alms. Show proofs of zeal and activity in the accomplishment of these duties; do not show a criminal tendency to exempt thyself from them. Be not rebellious to the orders of the Almighty; obey all his commandments. All the salutary prac[172]tices taught by religion are for Mussulmen like a robe with many folds. Recite the five prayers, O pure youth, if thou didst but know what graces thou drawest down upon thyself! Each of these practices has a mysterious meaning; a long discourse would be required to detail their merits.
The Lord, generous in his gifts, has made each of them the instrument of innumerable benefits. God has no need of thy works; ’tis thou alone who dost profit from thy wealth. O generous soul! thou alone wilt gather the fruit of thy good or evil actions.
Charming branch of the garden of morality, thou who rejoicest the heart and eye of thy father, confess candidly thy faith that all the mysteries of creation may be revealed to thee. Make thy heart the shrine of truth; light there the flaming torch of uprightness and sincerity. Fill thy mouth with the honey of the profession of the Mahometan faith. Let all thy words breathe submission to divine truths. The profession of faith is the seal of the salvation of believers, the ornament of the blissful gate of paradise.
It is this profession which establishes a striking distinction between the shadow of impiety and the light of faith. On it rests the foundation of true power, and on it has risen the edifice of religion. It is the column of Islamism, the water which fills the ocean of divine decrees, the key to the straight path and that which opens the gate of that devotion agreeable unto God. It is, for the tongue which utters it, like a dish of exceeding sweet savor. It is its salutary virtue which vivifies those whose hearts are dead.
O rose of the ever-blooming garden, thou, the support of thy aged father, at the prescribed time perform the ablutions and purify thyself of exterior pre-occupation! Clothe thyself[173] as with a robe of innocence and light that thou mayst be worthy to sit among pure men. Prayer, for the faithful, is as a celestial ascension; open thine eyes to this divine rapture. Consider not prayer as an irksome task; it is an honor which God deigns to grant us. It is the support of religion; and the corner stone of the house of faith. Incline devoutly in thy adorations; be among the faithful who surround the mihrab. Drag thy countenance in the dust before the Lord; be a slave in thy heart; consider his majesty. Prayer said without devotion is valueless in the sight of God; each time that thou dost bow down send forth to him a thousand ardent sighs. Plunge thyself completely in these holy practices; let thy reason succumb to a mysterious intoxication.
Far be it from thee to think of the delights of paradise or the torments of hell; love with all thy heart the sovereign Master of both. Yield not to sleep in the morning; be vigilant and assiduous in praying for the pardon of thy sins.
What happiness for thee to cross thy hands on thy breast and weep in the presence of thy God! When thou dost bow down, strike the earth with thy forehead; behold the potentates of this earth, O my son! is it permitted to everyone to salute the steps of their thrones?
The intelligent man, prostrated in the dust, does not raise his head; his eyes are not dazzled by a sudden brilliancy. Canst thou not be assiduous in the exercises of thy piety, if thou dost understand how precious they are to thee? I wish to disclose to thee a secret which is not permitted to be told to children. Apply thyself with all thy strength to understand it; thou wilt succeed in grasping its meaning. When thou dost pray while standing, is it not true, O youth beautiful as the full moon, that thou dost resemble an élif But when thou art inclined, one might believe thou wert a dal: it is the enigma of the prophets, endeavor to understand it. If thou dost prostrate thyself the rounded form of a mim is seen, and then thou dost indeed merit the name of man. Forget not this truth which is revealed unto thee: he who neglects prayer is not a man.[174]
O most delicious of the fruits of the paternal garden! precious pearl of the sea of life! dost thou wish to avoid the maladies which afflict the body? neglect not the fast of Ramazan. Fasting is a grace which the Lord grants to his servants; he does not leave it without recompense. Fasting is a table prepared by the divine mercy: he who practises it wears a robe of light. It demands mystery and retreat; hypocrisy should not come to profane it. Fasting is a mysterious emanation from eternity: it is a figure of spiritual royalty. The Prophet said, speaking with the breath of one who fasts, that it was more pleasing to God than the odor of musk! Fasting is the herald of the joys of paradise: to renounce these joys is to condemn one’s self to despair.
Until the shades of night begin to appear, let the disk of the sun be as a seal over thy mouth. As long as the jewel of thy being shall shine, abstain until darkness delivers thee from the eyes of the curious. What happiness for thee to have closed lips: to be beyond all agitation, with closed mouth and quiet body, to polish the mirror of thine existence, to deliver thy nature from the trammels of matter, to make it beam with a radiance full of grace, to dissipate the shadows of thy soul’s sanctuary, to be resplendent as the moon of the Ramazan!
O freshly blooming rose of the garden-plot of my soul, perfume that dost charm the nostrils of courtesy, undertake no other journey but that of Caaba. A useless journey is as disastrous as the fire of hell. Caaba is the noblest of all the temples and the central point of the universe. It is the seat of royalty; the ornament of the foot of the throne of the Divinity; the trunk of the tree of divine mercy; the threshold of religion[175] and of felicity; the torch that burns in the shrine of mysterious truths and whose brilliancy attracts suppliants as the candle the butterfly. It is the mysterious reflection of the high heavens: the abode veiled in black of Leila; the place of the adoration of men and angels, where the celestial vault inclines in reverence.
It is the site of the garden-plot of delights, all shining with an ineffable light. It is the station of the sacred mysteries; may God forever increase their significance! It is the throne of the rule of the Omnipotent and the threshold of the court of the All-Merciful. It is the centre of the earth around which the heavens accomplish their revolutions. It might be compared to a holy man, tall in stature; and the black gem to the buckle of his girdle. The black gem is the jewel of salvation kissed with awe by the friends of God. It is the first thing honored by the hand of the Creator; the more precious than amber, adorning the earth’s surface. The chief treasure of the secrets of the Divinity’s palace, the ornament of humanity’s domain, the dust at its portals is as a balm to the eyes; ’tis the abode of generosity and the happy home of purity. The life-giving water of the well of Zemzem is all prepared for the cleansing of our sins. The holy ground is the glory of the well of Zemzem, itself the glory of the world.
Mercy escapes from its golden funnel in inexhaustible abundance, purifying our faults. The water of Zemzem is a pure remedy which restores health to those who languish in separation. When thou dost arrive to the limits of the sacred territory, then visit the two walls of the ihrâm. The visiting of holy spots gives new life; each band of pilgrims participates in the divine mercy. Each breath which escapes these breasts burning with love is as a spirit messenger ascending to heaven. O felicity, O delight, O unspeakable honor, to revolve around God’s throne! Over this sacred place of processions, that it be not profaned, let thy forehead be as a tapestry! And thy heart, like a moth, should circle around this holy candle! Diligently visit the court of the Author of all good. L’Arifè is a figure of the gathering at resurrection and the solemn day of the counsel of the merciful Lord. There the crowds which cover Mount Arafat receive the certificate of the pardon of sins.[176]
There are purified those who were burdened with crime; there are freed the slaves of sin. These culprits form a dazzling ring whose setting is the column of divine mercy. All that was dark becomes white as snow; the record of evil deeds is thrown in the fire. Mina is a vast market where pardon is given in exchange for sins. The temple of Caaba is as the heart of the world, and its black gem is its inmost part. Exert thyself to penetrate the mystery of thy nature, formed of slime and water; on this question exhaust all thy faculties. If thou dost desire to discover its central point, imitate the compass that always turns in the same circle.
O precious pearl, worthiest heir of a noble family, give till the last para the alms prescribed by law: they will amass for thee a capital of salvation and blessings. Alms are due unto God: beware of negligence in paying him. Thou with whom the Lord has so generously shared, dost thou not hasten to purify thy wealth? Alms are the wealth of the poor; if thou dost retain them unjustly, thou wilt tarnish a legitimately acquired fortune. What thou dost give to obey the law of God, he will return to thee tenfold. If thou dost refuse, he will withdraw his benediction, and thy prosperity will vanish. Wealth not purified by alms is soon spent, and serves as a target for the blows of adversity. That blessed by this holy practice is as a seed which it pleases God to fructify. The grains dispersed here and there will grow and multiply, and thou wilt derive profit from them both in this world and in the next.
He who created poverty and wealth made alms the share of the poor. By an impenetrable mystery of his omnipotence, he has assigned to thee ease and to another indigence. Retain not unjustly the rights of the poor; pay them as soon as they are due. Complete legal alms by voluntary ones, which are the branches which shoot forth from the trunk of the others. How many passages of the Sacred Book bear witness to the excellence of their merits! Without poverty riches would have[177] no value, so has ordained he who has done all things. The poor are as the mirrors of the rich; thus the nature of each thing is revealed by contrasts. What couldst thou have accomplished against fate, hadst thou been poor and not rich? The sight of poverty provokes the rich to thankfulness; it gives them occasion to congratulate themselves for their prosperity.
If there were no beggars in the roads of this perishable world, how couldst thou purify thy goods by alms? If the pauper refuses thee, thou hast reason to be sad; if he accepts, thou art his debtor. Is he not the instrument of thy joy and of thy prosperity? What do I say: he is one more benefit added to all those thou hast received from God. Know that it is the liberality of the Lord which sends the mendicant to the faithful, because the profit of alms is his who donates. Thank the Lord for the gifts he has bestowed upon thee; thy glory will become more brilliant. Look upon the poor with the eye of compassion; beware from speaking harshly to them. Be affable and mild to them. Pour forth thy riches upon those who suffer from hunger; it is their right.
Let thy door be the rendezvous of the poor that thy bounty may equal thy power. Is it not better to come to the aid of the unfortunate, and assuage the pangs of the hungry, than to impose on thyself an added abstinence, and to defray the costs of repairing several mosques? There is more merit in giving water to one who thirsts than to visit Caaba annually. Glory and honor to him around whom press all those who suffer, and happy indeed is the wealth which serves to solace the misery of the poor. How worthy of envy is that powerful man who bestows bounty upon thousands of paupers! Is he not a river of blessings, whose liberality pours over all his brothers?
Do not regard the poor with disdain, nor reproach them with the gifts thou hast made. May thy benevolence rejoice children, and thy caresses console their afflicted hearts!
Blessed be the treasures destined by God for such glorious uses, that are as a saving ointment on the wounded hearts of defenceless orphans! Dry their tears with thy beneficent hand; may thy caresses make them forget the parents they have lost! When thou dost prosper in thy affairs, when Providence overwhelms thee with favors, put not thy foot in the way of ingratitude; fly from it with all the strength of thy soul![178] Gratitude is often only a vain word; let it be more in thy actions than in thy speech. Thank God from the bottom of thy heart; be generous to the poor. When thou seest the servants of God without bread and without garments, close not before them the door of liberality; repulse not those who extend to thee suppliant hands.
Whoever be the guest who takes shelter beneath thy roof, spare nothing to spread before him the table of hospitality. Treat him according to his deserts; honor him according to his dignity. If he makes himself troublesome, have patience; perhaps a single word will win his heart to thee. Let not disappointment fill his eyes with tears; refuse him nothing, if it is possible. Dost not wish to deliver him from all anxiety and to second with thy efforts all his desires? If it is not in thy power to content him, at least let the mildness of thy refusal leave him without regrets. Calm his mind with goodly words; fetter his heart with benevolence. That he may not leave thee with a wounded heart, think of what thou wouldst do in his place. How many ways thou hast to show thy gratitude!
No, gratitude cannot be limited. The mind of man is as incapable of understanding its merits as he is of worthily manifesting it. If thou dost wish the sincerity of thy sentiments not to be suspected, bestow liberally of thy wealth upon the poor. Let thy bounties, pure of all ostentation, have no other witness than the Divine Majesty. Beware of making allusions to them in words of pride; the Lord will know how to raise the veil with which thy modesty has covered them. The misconduct of intoxication is better than benefits accompanied with reproaches. There are many whom shame prevents from begging; go to meet those who have a right to thy compassion. How many men are divested of prosperity and whom misfortune has thrown at thy feet! To him who remains so overwhelmed in misery, even though he solicit not thy generosity, go, extend a succoring hand; that is more profitable than the building of sumptuous palaces.
Be convinced of this truth: thou wilt receive the reward for thy good deeds. Hypocrisy soils thy bounties; they will be neither useful to thee nor to them who have received them. Better is it to aid one unfortunate than to invite the rich to luxurious repasts. Seated at thy table, they would laugh at[179] thy expense, and would criticise thy least faults. Hospitality given thus to the opulent, what is it but prodigality? What will it reap, in this world and in the next, but the eternal tortures of hell? Except in the cases where it is absolutely necessary to avoid serious inconvenience, to conciliate the good-will of thy brothers and live on good terms with them, every time that abundance reigns with thee, call in the poor and the orphans to share with thee.
O young and growing shrub, ornament of the meadow of education, thou who dost lighten the heart and the eyes of thy father, apply thyself night and day to the study of noble wisdom; remain not like the brute, plunged in ignorance. Beware of a shameful idleness; knowledge and study are inseparable. The numerical value of these words is a proof in itself of this truth. Without study no knowledge; where one is not, the other cannot exist. Knowledge is the attribute of God; it is the most precious of all qualities. Neglect nothing to acquire it; such is the teaching of the illustrious preceptor. He also has said: Devote thyself to study from the cradle to the tomb. Exert, then, all thy strength to arrive at a city whose gate is the son-in-law of the Prophet.
Knowledge, celestial gift, is the table of divine hospitality. Mediator between being and void, it adorns the visage of existence. It is for it that the king of the domain of light exclaimed: Lord, increase my knowledge! It is the source of glory and of elevation; it gives an authority free from all taint. It holds the empire of dignity and of elucidation; it dispenses all knowledge. Vast ocean without bounds, he who claims to possess it is without wisdom. Ignorance is death, knowledge is life, said the Lord; dost thou then desire to be counted among the dead? Do not deprive thyself of eternal life; learn, with the aid of knowledge, to distinguish good from evil. Enrich thy mind with all kinds of knowledge; who knows if thou wilt not have occasion to make use of it? If thou art questioned concerning[180] a difficulty, is it not better to reply thereunto than to confess thy ignorance?
God said to men: Seek knowledge even to the ends of the earth. Blush not to take lessons from a teacher skilful in archery; in all things it is finer to know than to be ignorant. The unlearned, in comparison with the learned, are dunces, and even less. How can an educated man be compared to an ignorant one? are the blind and those that see on the same level? Whatever be his rank and power, true dignity will never be the portion of the ignorant. Ignorance is the capital of shame and dishonor; his lot is debasement and contempt. It is a cursed prison, in which those who fall never see liberty again. Ignorance is chaos, knowledge is existence, how can two such contrary principles be associated?
Apply thyself to the study of the secrets of nature; do not stray in the valley of philosophy. What is more precious than knowledge? have any ever repented of devoting themselves to it? Subjects and kings all have need of the assistance of learned men. The nobility of knowledge has no more limits than the attributes of the Creator. As long as these cannot be limited, how can one fix boundaries to the others? Do not pause at the shell of things; seek to penetrate to the marrow. From the surface, pass to the interior: does the bird fly in the air without wings? The outside of a house is as a place of passage; it is within one seeks repose. Pearls are not found on the borders of the sea; if thou dost wish to possess them, thou must plunge in the depths.
The study of grammar, of syntax, and of literature is necessary; they are indispensable instruments to learn Arabic; but it is not necessary to give all one’s time to it: of what good is an instrument which one does not use? It is good to acquire all sorts of knowledge; not, however, to the same degree. It suffices thee to ornament thy mind with the knowledge of jurisprudence, of the hâdis and of the commentaries of the Koran. For the rest, content thyself with theory, leave to others the practice: fly lawsuits and contests. Abandon law for the practice of good works; enter not in the domains of chicanery: if thou dost not understand anything of the questions of purchase and sale, what disadvantage will come to thee of it in this world and the next?[181]
O most beautiful of the pages of the book of creatures, thou whose image adorns the mirror of qualities! hearken to this paternal counsel: Boast of thy merit to no one; do not pursue a vain science which is babbled of in public lest thou consume thy strength to no purpose. Devote thyself to some science worthy of thy Creator and of thyself. Only pass through the realm of philosophy, but fasten thy attention on the writings of the friends of God. The holy aspirations of these illustrious guides bring men to truth. How difficult is it to find a perfect spiritual director! For the present, these precepts may suffice for thee. Let thy piety be enlightened. Far be it from thee to become a hypocrite and bigot, and weary not of aspiring to perfection and of working to become a sincere adorer of God.
Do not stray in the slippery places of doubt, for there are no wise men save those who are learned in divine things. How can he who devotes himself to grammatical subtilities penetrate the divine mysteries? The Creator of love has said: Acquire knowledge; such should be the aim of the two worlds. Knowledge is the ornament of man and the last places are the share of the ignorant. Knowledge is a spiritual happiness and a gift of divine beneficence. The ignorant reject knowledge because they cannot raise themselves to the required level, for they would devote themselves to it body and soul, were it possible. Examine closely, and then decide.
The mud of deception is not able to sully the garb of knowledge and the garment of instruction. Thou knowest that it is God himself who hath put thee in this world to serve him with all thy heart. Of necessity he is the master of the house; the fool only sees the house and mistakes the master. Labor courageously night and day to obtain the grace of the abiding of God with thee. Let him be the constant object of thy thoughts and of thy meditations, and be attentive to this great spectacle beneath thy eyes. Trouble not thyself with heaven or with hell, for it is their Master only whom thou must seek. If thou dost possess him, O life of my soul, thou wilt possess two worlds.[182]
Seek to know thyself well, if thou dost wish to fathom the mysteries of this world. Seek morality eagerly, and give thyself no respite when thou wilt have found it. Whoever knows it not is a blind man below the ox and the ass. Morality is the chief riches of an enlightened soul and heart, and the last step to the knowledge of God. He who hath not penetrated to the light of morality remains lost in the shadows of error.
If thou dost well understand the truth of things, O pearl of Aden, thou wilt be invulnerable against fear and sadness. There lies all the mystery of unity; there is the secret of eternal felicity. Light of mine eyes! how full of anguish it is to be struck with blindness in this world and in the next! Anoint thine eyes with the salve of morality; if not, the day of judgment will be that of thy condemnation. He is blind, he that does not bear witness, for whom the gates of truth remain closed. He who was the glory of prophets asked in his prayers that the truth might be revealed to him. The writings of the men of God make the mirror of the intelligence to burn: do thou apply thyself to understand their meaning. Let these teachings be the safeguard of thy soul. He who seeks God has no better guide than the mesnévis of the greatest Physician. The sublime truths of the “Book of Victories and of Distinctions” are a balm of purity for the mind’s eye. The saints have left many teachings which aid man to know his Creator. Therein are found mystic and spiritual truths derived from the Koran. Outwardly, they are only legal decisions, but beneath is a whole order of incontestable revelations. Consecrate all thy hours to the study of these books: mayst thou possess in full the doctrine which they contain!
O moon that dost light the eye of hope, and dost adorn the days of thy aged father! it availeth thee more to cultivate thy talents than to break the seal of a treasure. Knowledge and instruction have no surer asylum than Constantinople, which has not its equal for the flavor of its intellectual fruit. May[183] God prosper this abode of all greatness, the home and school of all great men, and the seat of administration for all people! There merit always finds consideration. Every perfection, every talent, is there esteemed at its just value. There are all the degrees of honor and of nobility; everywhere else life is lost and wasted. There everything has its peaceable course, and merit has not the injustice of fortune to fear. There are found all places, all dignities, and all careers. Heaven in vain revolves around the world, it sees nowhere a city like unto Constantinople. There are seen paintings, drawings, writings, and gildings, dazzling and gleaming beyond belief. All possible kinds of arts contribute their own brilliancy and splendor. See how she gleams with a beauty all her own, as the sea languidly caresses her!
At Constantinople all arts and all professions are esteemed and honored, and one finds here talents whose names even are unknown elsewhere. Does he who is outside the house know what is within? Does he who stands on the shore see what is hidden by the depth of the sea? There also they excel in archery and the names of conquerors are immortalized on stone. Without mention of the rest, how pleasant and charming it is to fly over the surface of the sea, to reign at the same time over the air and the waves, like Solomon on his throne, and to recline luxuriously on a cushion with eyes fixed on a mirror of silver! There are combined at once music, song, and all pleasures. There, riding on the wings of the wind, the eyes perceive a great number of cities. Tranquilly resting on the breeze, one traverses the earth without fatigue. There are marvellously reflected the most gorgeous spectacles, which seem to mirror one another and give an enchanted aspect to the shores. The quaîqs glide lightly over the water, with their wind-filled sails like a bird’s wings. How can so beautiful a sight be described? what need has it of eulogy?
Behold Saint Sophia, marvel of the world, whose cupola might be termed the eighth celestial body. Nowhere has she her equal, save, perhaps in paradise. Contemplate the imperial seat of the sultans of the world, the dwelling of the kings of time, the court of the Ottoman Empire, and the centre of the rule of the khans. In this ever-blessed region is found all that is desirable. Whatever thou canst imagine, she possesses in[184] the highest degree. She combines the elect of the beys, of the pachas, and the efendis, the most illustrious warriors and the most renowned wise men.
All the world’s difficulties there find their solutions: all efforts are there crowned with success. The mind cannot conceive all the charms she contains. If she were not afflicted with all kinds of disease and the abominable plague, who would consent to leave this celestial abode whence care is forever exiled? If her temperature were more equal, would she not cause the rest of the world to be forgotten? Whoever has an established fortune should not establish his home in any other country. No city, no country, resembles or is comparable to her. She is the asylum of all sciences: everywhere else study is neglected for gain, commerce, agriculture, or usury, so that all vestiges of knowledge have disappeared. Money takes the place of talent in a province, and it seems as if merit could be extracted from it. In the provinces scientific men have become extinct and books are forgotten. Poetry and prose are both held in aversion, and even a Persian phrase is tabooed. The study of Arabic has vanished as snow without consistency, and the principles of grammar and syntax are entirely neglected. Luxury and presumption have intoxicated all hearts, and there is no worship but that of dignities and employments. There one finds neither virtue nor knowledge, and morality is outraged.
The ambition to secure vain honors leaves no time for the labor for perfection. How many do not lift up their voices unto the Lord except when their fortunes are threatened by reverses! It is by a special dispensation of Providence that God has withdrawn learning from the provinces. If he had not first chained them in ignorance, who could have governed such men? The seat of power belongs to the great, but pride is the part of provincials. He who is high placed is not vainglorious; but these wretches are filled with arrogance. They constantly compare their dignity and importance to that of the representatives of authority.
But what would it be if they possessed learning? They would not deign to look at their fellows. They know not their value, and take no account of their worth.
Nothing teaches the inferiority of the provinces more than the sight of Constantinople. In the gatherings of the capital[185] he who passes elsewhere for a wisest man of the century is but a blockhead; the strong-minded loses his assurance, and the fine talker has no longer a tongue. They who boasted so loudly of their rank and nobility are only admitted to the most commonplace circles. The arrogant, who knit his brows so disdainfully, eagerly seeks the door-keepers. He who bore a title so pompously cannot even obtain the honor of kissing the hem of a robe. He who occupied the first place is not even deemed worthy to remain at the door. What city can be compared to Constantinople? Is not the prince above him whose homages he receives? After the capital, there is no place so charming as Halep. Halep! honor of the province, illustrious and flourishing city; the resort of Indians, Europeans, and Chinese; object of the envy of the whole universe; the market of all merchandise; haven of joys and wealth, with thy delicious waters and climate, thy vast plains and magnificent buildings.
O new copy of the collection of mysteries, rosebud of the garden of graces! discover thy needs to no one, bend not thy back under the load of a favor received. Open not thy mouth to request; let not servile and entreating speech soil thy lips. Cupidity always engenders a bad reputation: the true secret to gain the esteem of others is to moderate thy desires. Hast thou not received the portion assigned to thee by destiny? What is the water of life, if it is not consideration? Should we not always show it? Be animated by generous feelings, beware of baseness, and do not demand all that thou seest. What is there so desirable in thy brother’s hand that thou shouldst so unceasingly covet? Has he not need of the gifts of the Lord, as thou hast? and is he not also the debtor of his universal beneficence? Is he not able to show thee favor, a weak mortal, and has he not sufficient wealth to share with thee? God never reproaches us with the benefits he grants: but is the hand of man other than an instrument?
Although in all things the first causes must be considered,[186] what are these causes without that which directs them? Seek not the creature to the exclusion of the Creator; lose not thy trouble. Confide in the generosity of the Lord; the portion he has allotted thee will return in spite of thyself. How sweet it is to repose in the shade of a modest retreat and to content one’s self with the gifts of Providence! Lay not a bold hand on the object of thy covetousness; God knows what is necessary for thee. Let thy heart, satisfied with the Creator’s gifts, accept with gratitude all that he grants thee! In his high wisdom, he knows all thy needs and he will provide for them at the seasonable time. Pious legacies do not belong to thee; the universal Dispenser will exhaust other sources to enrich thee. Money cannot appease hunger nor can it serve for the nourishing of thy body. If thou didst amass pyramids of gold or of silver, could they take the place of bread, or of oil, or of rice? Why trouble thyself concerning thy subsistence? Does not God provide for his servants’ needs? All that is not given willingly loses its worth: were it a rose, it has no longer a perfume.
If thou art offered anything, O soul of thy father! sully not thy eyes and thy heart with cupidity: be courageous, and abase not thyself by looks which beg on all sides. However, thou canst accept with simplicity what a friend offers. In thy turn, thou wilt evidence thy gratitude by some present. Let thy promises remain always inviolable: be a religious observer of thy word. Know that a promise is a sacred obligation, and that to fail therein is to be covered with shame. Beware lest by lying words thou plantest the tree of promise on the roots of bad faith.
O thou who dost aspire to repose in this world and in the next, who dost seek the way of peace of soul, abandon not thyself to pleasantries and jokes! This habit plunges into trouble all those who contract it. Sacrifice not thy friend to a play on words; throw not to the wind the rights of bread and salt. Pleasantry breaks the ties of intimacy, and its re[187]sults are sad and painful. However brilliant it may be, it inflicts none the less deep wounds. How can the name of pleasantries be given to those burning arrows aimed at a friend’s heart?
How many sallies, impregnated with venomous spleen, have filled with anger and rage those whom thou dost love! True wit is that which is appropriate, brief in expression, full of sense, innocent and inoffensive, like a blooming rose of the heart’s garden, whose charms attract from afar all the nightingales. Its perfume, breathed with delight, drives from the heart all thoughts of hate. It charms the ear like good tidings, and all who hear it are filled with joy. It is carried from city to city, and passes into a proverb from age to age. Nothing is more charming than such a pleasantry; if it is otherwise, it were better to refrain from making it.
Beware of fault-finding and backbiting: a shame for all wise men. No pleasure nor profit can be found therein, and a very great sin is committed in yielding to it. The confidence of thy friends is lost; and thy name is detested where it is uttered. Fault-finding and backbiting render one as odious as does calumny. May God preserve thee from this scourge; mayst thou live in purity of heart and tranquillity of body!
O thou who dost enumerate carefully the advantages of success, and dost consider the spectacle of refusals and welcomes, throw not a look of indifference on thy neighbor! Turn with interest to the unfortunate. Observe the rights of thy neighbors with justice; let the expression of thy countenance wound no one. Be not so parsimonious with thy food that thou canst not share it with others. Provide for their needs as much as possible. Let all the weak take refuge in the shadows of thy generosity! Do not entertain sentiments of hate and enmity against anyone; do not acquire the habit of tumult and agitation. Beware of anger, rage, and revenge; show to no one a countenance furrowed with discontent.[188]
Live on good terms with all the world and be always of an equable disposition. Do not annoy thy inferiors, nor impose upon them the constraint of cold formalities. Let not the expression of thy countenance grieve anyone; captivate everyone with thy good-nature. Let no one be a victim of thy injustice, never return evil for evil. Be not a burden on thy friends, do not make thyself insupportable by thy bad disposition. Let no soul be in anguish for thee; rather labor to elevate those who are desperate. Bring no lawsuit against anyone, that God may preserve thee in turn from litigants. Do not compromise thy honor in this world and in the next for strange interests. Be neither guardian, counsellor, nor trustee.
Fly the domain of chicanery; do not rush into profitless agitation with lowered head. He who enters into quarrelling and strife with others brings down upon himself trouble and anxiety. Never follow the road of disputes and strife, for they provoke the flames of hatred! Raise not a finger to do evil: let one of thy hands be always busy in doing good. Carry not thy complaints to the door of the prince; refer to God’s tribunal him who hath wronged thee. However great be thy weakness and impotence, will the Lord therefore be less zealous for thy defence? Resigned and modest, be without care and without anxiety.
O precious pearl of the sea of life, chosen model of the beauty of virtues! practise modesty, have always a dervish’s heart. Content thyself with little, practise humility: shoot forth roots in the garden-plot of the roses of prosperity. Mildness, politeness, and good deeds will win to thee all unprejudiced men. Is it fitting for good-nature to knit the brow and contract the forehead? Kindness and urbanity of character brighten the mirror of the heart. As truly as a smiling countenance is an indication of the mercy of God, so is a sullen face a cause for reprobation.
Bad morals, reprehensible habits, and ill-humor lead to eternal damnation. How insupportable are the manners of whom[189]soever is given to haughtiness! Presumption is a diabolical fault unknown to the court of angels. Have no intercourse with the vainglorious; fly from him. If thou be forced to sit near him, show humility. The wise men, although with apparent moderation, have said: Be proud with him who is proud; but as thereby there may be cause for discord, hasten to avoid it by thy humility. Pride and presumption in human nature are an inevitable malady and incurable wound. He who falls into this abyss cannot prosper; the hurt of his misfortune becomes incurable.
Suffer not thyself to be intoxicated by honors and dignities; expose not thus thy brow to the wrath of the lord. Grandeur and eminence are fitting in God; but what can they accomplish in a slave? Let all thy ways be submissive: never reach forth thy hand to do wrong to another. If pride and haughtiness appear in thee, God will raise up enemies for thee even among thy kindred. Let us suppose that thy rank lifts thee to heaven, thou art none the less the last of the slaves of the Lord. Repulse no one from thy door harshly; give neither thy hand nor the hem of thy robe to be kissed.
However high placed thou mayst be, do not exact servile homage. It is thou who shouldst prostrate thy countenance on the ground: is it fitting for a slave to have his hand and his garment kissed? Do not conceive a false opinion of thy own worth; as much as possible, do not take precedence. Many candidates aspire to precedence, and perhaps they will obtain it before thee. Boast to no one of thy rank and importance, for fear of becoming a burden to him. Salute others with mildness and modesty; oblige no one to remain standing. If thou art treated with honor, there is nothing better; if otherwise, dispute not. If modesty and good form reign in thy conduct, doubtless consideration will be shown in turn to thee. Modesty is the ornament of the countenance of faith; effrontery is pernicious in this world and the next. Let morality perfect good-nature in thee; then see how many joys there are in modesty!
Morality is the ornament of man; without it, he is but the slave of Satan. Because he was without it, the envious one was driven from the throne of celestial mercy. At the last judgment, on the day of the final catastrophe, thou wilt not[190] be able to lift thy head nor turn thy eyes. But the judgment of God is omnipresent; his eye embraces all that is. In the eyes of his omniscience there is no difference between this world and the world to come. The Creator is beyond the vicissitudes of fortune; no change can affect him. Knowing that he is omnipresent and all-seeing, how dost thou dare to break the laws of morality?
Show not to the foolish the depths of thy heart; hearken unto the prophets, practise their teachings. Did not the Apostle of God receive the order to act with wise dissimulation? Without it, thou wilt have no repose, says the Glory of the World, the Spring of all Wisdom. It is for thee as a protecting arm; without its aid, how many quarrels and disputes! It is the surest rampart against all the troubles of the world. Do not turn like the wind in all directions; like the sun, do not shine on the doors of all. Do not reveal thy secrets to strangers; open not to fools the gate to thy private affairs. Give not thy confidence to the first comer; do not retail in public what regards thee alone. Do not believe that all men are sincere, but do not look upon them all as hypocrites. Be not blinded by the praises that thou dost receive; be not loath to overcome thy passions. How could these praises lavished on thee be free from hypocrisy?
For myself I see no difference between the stings of the wasp and the flattering words of the foolish. If they have nothing to hope from thee, they will never gather in thy house. On a festival day, do not go to anyone’s house without an invitation, nor to the homes of any save the honorable. Let the gatherings that thou dost frequent be composed of pious men. Let them not be meetings of corruption and perversity. While thou must acknowledge an invitation, wilt thou not be out of place where thy honor is compromised? When thou art in an assembly, abuse neither speech nor silence; use in turn thy tongue and thy ear. Let thy words like pearls be as brief as possible. Govern thy speech according to this motto: brevity and clearness. Man has only one tongue and two ears; speak, then, little and listen much.
However, if a garrulous person evinces stupidity the silent man ends by becoming burdensome. Speak neither too little nor too much; keep a correct medium. Be neither stupid nor[191] importune. He who holds the scales of good education said: to speak too much availeth a man nothing. Do not recite in public the praises of God; prayer should be hidden in solitude; before others it is only hypocrisy and importunity; a terrible chastisement will be its just award.
Never reply harshly; when thou speakest to anyone let it be with sweet courtesy. Reproach no one face to face with his hidden faults; lend to his discourse a friendly ear. Never expose the ignorance of anyone. Why cover with confusion a creature of God? Take care not to strike with the weapon of slander; an eternal penalty will be its punishment. The penetration of him who has given thee the jewel of knowledge has shown him that ignorance was well for thy brother. Such is the providential dispensation of the Creator; so has ordained the justice of his omnipotence. Let these words be the ornament of thy mouth; woe unto thee if thou dost not heed them!
Renounce injustice and violence; never utter harsh words that wound the heart. Be generous, whatever happens, O soul of my soul; let thy tongue outrage no one! To wound thy brother to the heart is the worst of sins, the greatest of all iniquities. Labor with ardor to raise up those who have fallen; wouldst thou desire to overthrow the throne of the Lord? Will the avenging God suffer a temple to be ruined from dome to foundation? Light of mine eyes! be convinced that there is no pardon for such a sin.
O thou who dost hearken unto my teachings, who dost take lessons in the school of experience, never contract the habit of lying and of hypocrisy which sap the foundations of concord. Give no access in thy heart to deception; be simple, ingenuous, and without cunning. Lying and deception are pollutions which only produce deception and confusion. Forerunners of the works of Satan, they throw their authors in eternal chains. Justly abhorred by men, they only produce disastrous results.[192]
What is more horrible than never to open the mouth for good, and to excite discord by false allegations? It is a speech passed into a proverb that the perfidious die in grief. Infamy is the only good that they can acquire; their life is consumed in sadness and grief. Perfidy, bad faith, lying, hypocrisy, perversity of mind, and corruption of heart; all these are the qualities of the damned, but they become not the true faithful. The great teacher of religion said: The true Mussulman is he whose hand and tongue are not to be feared. O thou who dost seek happiness, should not the reputation, life, and riches of all believers be regarded a sacred repository?
O thou who dost aspire to a solidly founded happiness, who seekest the ways to obtain the favors of Providence! be not addicted to the sorceries of chiromancy and astrology; they draw down misfortune on those who practise them; they precipitate them to ruin: instead of the gold they hoped to receive, they draw forth a vile metal. Since immutable destiny has ordained all that can come to pass, forget the future to think only of the present. Why be troubled in advance by what is not yet, and sow needlessly in thy heart the seeds of anguish and trouble?
Believe not the lying words of chiromancy, for God above knows what is concealed. Even if this were a science, the man who teaches it is of no worth; his knowledge is null, his words false, his mind diseased. Do we not see what happens to these diviners and astrologers; is there a single one who prospers? Might we not say that misfortune is the satellite of all these sorceries? Leave, then, loans, and enjoy thy ready money. What wilt thou do when thou shalt have been plunged in all these agonies? Believe my words, and may God preserve thee from so disastrous a blindness.[193]
O precious pearl of the jewel casket of my soul, thou whose image is stamped on my heart! be not seduced by the rosy cup; it debases man in the eyes of his fellows, renders him odious to all, and deprives him of his honor and respect. Have no connection with this mother of all vices, who engenders all sorts of calamities. What a shame to pass for a debauchee, to be known everywhere for thy passion for wine! Beware of drunkenness, of that stupefaction which causes the loss of reason. Since the all-wise Creator has forbidden this excess, be submissive to his decision. Sully not thyself with the crime of revolt, have no cause to blush before thy Creator. Fear to fall in the snares of sin; if that occurs, entreat for pardon.
When thou dost visit an assembly, publicly reproach no one. Do not jostle those who are drunk; do not throw stones at those without reason. Why grieve these senseless persons, when thou thyself art able to share their misfortune? Why molest them? Some time, doubtless, a like mishap will befall thee. Avoid reproaching others for their blindness in sin, and declaring thyself free from stain. O soul of thy father, know well; when thou dost accuse thy brother, thou dost render thyself guilty. Must thou attack with violence the errors of others, and turn thy eyes from thy own conduct? Repentance always follows sin, for adversity is the consequence of crime. One day, in a gathering, at the house of Djelal eddin Roumi, someone said boastingly: “I have never seen the color of wine, never have I tasted liquor.” “It were better still not to drink it after having seen it,” answered this holy sage, the pole of good conduct, the king of the domain of grace, shocked at this proud presumption.
Suffer not thyself to be weakened by the assaults of drunkenness, do not deliver thyself up to the seductions of hashish and opium. Bendj[1] and esrar[2] are still more destructive; he who consumes them is a dunce. These drugs make a man the laughing-stock of other men: he is an ape in human form.[194] Obscure not the light of thy soul’s jewel; cover not with darkness the eye of thy intelligence. Wrap not opium in a shroud during the Ramazan, so that thy body may become as the tomb of one dead. This poison makes man wicked and immoral; perverts him, corrupts his heart, alters his features, and bewilders his tongue. When intoxication arrives, he hugs himself with delight; when it is dissipated, he is beside himself; he is a corpse in the form of one living: the brilliancy of his cheeks is blighted. Even though there appeared no exterior effects, who would not blush to be called Teriaki?
O thou who art as the veil behind which hides seductive beauty, thou who canst not be captivated by the wish for notoriety, fasten not thy heart on ornaments and adornment; do not love inordinately pearls and precious stones. Doubtless the sight of these objects rejoices the eye, but they are not suitable for men. For him, gold is the source of all benefits; for woman, it is the ornament of the body. Leave finery, then, to women, make a generous use of thy riches. Be not with thy sparkling garments like unto a gilded box of perfume.
Do not pride thyself on the splendor of thy raiment, but content thyself with a modest outfit. Although moral purity is indeed estimable, still the fabrics which cover thy body should be spotless. Do not torment thyself with the search of all manner of tissues for thy adornment. All who see anyone arrayed after that fashion shrug their shoulders in passing him. Whatever be the costume adopted by thy equals, adopt it thyself. Let thy garb be conformed to theirs, however different thy fortune may be. Let the carpets and fringes of thy hangings, and all the objects thou dost use, be not distinguished by inordinate luxury. If thou art able to wear sable, is not the fox’s fur as useful? It is nothing, after all, but the skin of a dead animal; nothing is less precious in the eyes of wise men. Luxury in furs and raiment throws man[195] into ruinous expenses; he gets into debt to keep up his pomp, and adds to his troubles and anxieties.
Do not dissipate thy goods inconsiderately: prodigality is detested by God. A wise man, to teach the value of wealth, used this just and reasonable comparison: To acquire riches, to accumulate a capital which keeps us in ease, is as difficult as to tear a cliff away from the earth and carry it to the summit of a mountain; to spend our money is as easy as to let it roll to the base. Appreciate after that, which of the two requires the more trouble, and weigh all thy actions in a just scale. Suspend from thy ear the pearl of my words. O soul of thy father, beware of debt! Debt changes a man completely; were he a Plato, it makes of him a Medjnoun. His body is in perfect health, his morals are diseased; he bears on his neck the yoke of his creditor. Debts make a fool of a wise man; they enervate the most heroic hearts, their day of reckoning is like that of death, and they lead to prison as death to the tomb. What is that, then, when a harsh creditor throws every day trouble into the heart of the debtor, when usurious interests, increasing the capital, make his body bend under an unsupportable burden; when the creditor, invoking the aid of the law, calls to his assistance false witnesses; when, crushing his victim under the feet of violence, he dishonors him in the eyes of everyone until that moment when, unable to vindicate himself, the end of life draws near?
O light of mine eyes, may Almighty God preserve thee from the scourge of debt! Better is it a thousand times to sell thy raiment and carpets, to go to rest fasting and in tatters, than to have creditors and lose thy peace in litigation. Lend to no one at usurious interest; it becomes the source of disputes. The fear of God is rare in this world: people are always ready to conceal and deny the truth; the most incontestable rights are unceasingly contested; all are busy in denying or taking oaths. A delay is demanded, then another. The money which is refused thee is eaten up by the expenses of justice. Is thy debtor the relative of some personage? claim thy money if thou dost dare; even at the hour of payment he goes to see that personage, warms his zeal by some present, and says to him: “What, lord, thou art here, and yet such an one would force me to pay!” Immediately this oppressor mounts his horse, and[196] goes to the cadi and mufti; then thou wilt be threatened with the wrath of the judges, and thou wilt be continually urged to renounce thy pretensions. If all these artifices have no effect, thy adversary will stir up the waves of lying, will raise up false witnesses, will produce legal deeds and manufactured fetvas. Whatever thou mayst do in the vain hope of winning thy cause, he will do all to make it of no avail. Such is the custom of our times. Woe to him who lends his money to another![197]
[Translated by A. P. Courteille and Robert Arnot]
IN the journal of Antoine Galland, the celebrated translator of the “Arabian Nights,” we read on page 29 of M. Charles Schefer’s edition: “Thursday, January 14: I purchased for his excellency (M. de Nointel) a book entitled ‘The Marvels of Creatures,’ written in old Cufic characters with sixty-six illustrations representing different fabulous actions of Mahomet for the establishment of his pernicious doctrines, such as his ascension to heaven, his descent to hell, etc.; I bought it for twenty-five piastres.”
This manuscript to which Galland, although he was of small experience in such matters, gives so singular a title, was brought to France and presented to Colbert by the Marquis de Nointel. Colbert, who prided himself on his knowledge of the treasures of his library, commissioned François Pétis de la Croix, the elder, to prepare a notice of his new acquisition. The learned Orientalist, after a minute examination of the manuscript, recognized the fact that it would be impossible for him to decipher it. He, therefore, contented himself with giving a detailed description of the curious miniatures with which the manuscript is ornamented, and introduced it with the following note: “Translation of the inscriptions in the Turkish language which give the subjects of the sixty-four illustrations of the book ‘Leilet el Mirage,’ written in curious script, in the library of Monseigneur Colbert, by La Croix, Interpreter and Secretary to the King. ‘The Night of the Ascension’ treats of the Mahometan faith and of the story of Mahomet. This is assumed with some justice, not only on account of the Turkish and Arabic inscriptions which it contains, but also on account of the words that have been deciphered in the queer script in which it is written. For instance, the profession of faith of the Mahometans in the [200]forty-fourth and forty-fifth illustrations, which is painted in miniature capitals, can be easily read. Its script is fundamentally Arabic and is ancient; not that which we ordinarily call ancient Arabic, of which there are several books from five to six hundred years old; but another ancient script called Cufic, used by the people of Cufa, to distinguish them from the other Arabs, several figures of their letters resembling that Chaldaic script which was originally Syriac.[201]”
ALL praise and thanksgiving to the Almighty, the Everlasting, who has created and disposed the 18,000 worlds, he who has no equal, the sole pre-eminent Being, the sovereign Lord, the most high God. May his glory shine forth forever! May his holy name be hallowed! There is no other God but he. A hundred thousand prayers and blessings upon the Friend of the most high God, the chief of the 124,000 prophets, Mahomet the chosen of God! May the celestial graces fall in abundance on the children and the four companions of the Prophet of God (on whom be benedictions!). May the Lord deign to favor them all!
Now you must know that the title of this work is “The Book of the Ascension.” We have translated it from that book known as “The Way of Paradise” into the Turkish language, that a greater number of readers may derive profit from it. Since it is completely translated, we hope, by the grace of God, that many intelligences may be thereby enlightened.
Imam Bagavi (may the divine mercy rest doubly on him!) in his book entitled “The Beacon Lights” has narrated an Arabic tradition, the substance of which is as follows:
Enis Ibn Malek tells concerning the Prophet that, on the night of the ascension, Gabriel came to him, leading Borak, all saddled and bridled. When the Prophet (blessed be his name!) prepared to mount him, Borak was restive. Whereupon Gabriel exclaimed, Never hath a nobler before God than Mahomet mounted thee, O Borak! At which words Borak sweated from fright.
Moreover, one of the Prophet’s companions, named Malik, gives the following story of Oumm Hani, the sister of Ali: One night, the Prophet (on whom be blessings forever!)[202] lodged in our house. In the morning he arose, and said to us: There happened to me many strange adventures last night. What were they, O Mahomet? we asked. I will tell you. Listen to me. Know that last night Gabriel and Michael came to me, each accompanied by 66,000 angels, and leading with them an animal called Borak, saddled and bridled. Smaller than a mule and larger than an ass, his face was like that of a human being, while his tail and hoofs were like those of a cow. (In another book we read that his tail and hoofs resembled a goat’s.) He had the rump of a horse, and carried an emerald green saddle, a harness of pearls, and turquoise stirrups. Gabriel approached me and said: O Mahomet, almighty God, who hath overwhelmed thee with his gifts, and hath granted thee innumerable favors, hath decreed that this night thou shalt ascend to heaven to contemplate there the works of his omnipotence, and to receive the graces which he desireth to bestow on thee.
Hardly had I heard these words, continued the Prophet, when I sprang up to perform my ablutions. Gabriel presented to me in a ewer of red hyacinth the water of the Kaoucer, which flows in paradise, and when I finished my ablutions, he poured on his wings the water I had used. Why dost thou thus? I asked. That the most high God may not cast me into hell-fire on the day of the resurrection, he answered.
When I left the house, Michael, leading Borak by the bridle, and other angels carrying 66,000 luminous banners, around each of which were seven divisions of angels—when they saw me they all bowed down, and I returned the greeting. Then I mounted Borak, the distance between the strides of whom when I made him tread the earth was as far as the eye could reach; and when I turned the bridle toward heaven, he soared in the air like a bird. We all repaired to the Holy House at Jerusalem, and entered the Mosque el Aksa. There I beheld all the prophets, with Abraham, Moses, and Isaac at their head. Advancing, they greeted me, and exclaimed: Rejoice, O thou whom the Almighty hath loaded with gifts; for all that thou dost ask of the Lord this night will be granted unto thee.
Then Gabriel made the call to prayer. Abraham the prophet said to me: O Mahomet, do thou perform the functions of[203] imam; for we should all pray under thy direction. Then I, as imam, prayed; and immediately afterward, implored the blessing of God for my followers, and all the prophets raised their hands to heaven, crying Amen!
O Mahomet, arise, for we must continue our journey, said Gabriel, and arising, I saw before me a ladder of light, resting on the earth and reaching to heaven. Gabriel bade me mount the ladder, and I obeyed, while repeating the invocation, In the name of the merciful and pitying God, and many others. Thus without trouble I arrived within sight of heaven, where I saw a sea so immense that none knew its extent save the Lord of all. O Gabriel, I said, what is this sea? It is that which is called the Sea of Kaoucer, he answered; which is suspended in space by the divine omnipotence, and no one save almighty God knows its extent.
When we had traversed this sea and pursued our journeys by the order of God, we reached the first heaven. I saw that it was made of an enamel the color of turquoise, with a thickness which it would take 500 years to cross. Gabriel knocked at the gate, and had no sooner called the angel intrusted with the guard of the gate than he asked, Who art thou? Gabriel, bringing Mahomet with me. Apostle of God, said the angel, has the time of thy coming then arrived? And opening the gate of heaven with great demonstrations of joy, he saluted me, and I him; then he added: Be welcome, O Mahomet, enter and honor with thy presence the celestial world. I entered and I perceived seven choirs of angels ready to receive the commands of him who guarded the gate, and who all saluted me. There I saw a personage whom I did not know. It is Adam the prophet, said Gabriel, greet him.
I therefore went to salute him, which salute he returned, saying to me, Be welcome, O Mahomet, thou art come at a seasonable hour. May prosperity be with thee forever! Then I saw that Adam (on whom be blessings!) glanced to his right, and smiled with a satisfied air; then looked to his left, and became anxious and tearful. What aileth Adam? I asked of Gabriel. At the right hand of Adam, answered he, are the souls of the prophets, of the saints, and true believers. While contemplating them his heart is joyous, and he smiles. On the contrary, at his left are the souls of the infidels, of the[204] perverse and incredulous. The sight of them is painful to him, and he weeps.
I passed beyond, and saw a white cock, whose head was under the throne of God, and whose feet clutched the earth. Who is that cock? I asked Gabriel. ’Tis an angel, said he, who counts the hours of the day and night. When the hour of prayer comes, he crows and recites the tesbih; and when the cocks on earth hear him, they crow in their turn and recite the tesbih.
Farther on, I saw an angel, who was half snow and half fire. Who is that angel? I asked of Gabriel. ’Tis the angel whose voice is so sonorous that when he recites the tesbih men say, It thunders! He had two tesbihs in his hands.
Farther on, there was a white sea. What is this sea? I asked of Gabriel. It is, said Gabriel, that which is called the Sea of Life.
We pushed forward, and at length we reached the second heaven. I saw that it was of white pearls. Its breadth was that of a 500-years’ journey. Gabriel knocked at the gate, and a voice asked, Who art thou? I am Gabriel, and with me is Mahomet, the chosen Prophet of God, he replied. Immediately the angel, filled with joy, opened the gate of this heaven. We entered and saluted the angel, who returned our salute, and said: Rejoice, O Mahomet, for the Almighty grants thee great graces to-night! Twenty choirs of angels, ready to receive the orders of him who guarded the gate, surrounded us, and saluted.
Farther on, I came near unto a gigantic angel. Who is that angel? I asked. It is he who rules the concerns of all creatures. At a distance I beheld an angel who had seventy heads, and moreover, seventy tongues in each of his heads. With each of these tongues, he was reciting seventy kinds of tesbih. Passing beyond this place, I saw two personages. Who are they? I asked. One, said Gabriel, is Jacob the prophet, and the other is the prophet Zachariah. I saluted them, and they said to me: O Mahomet! be welcome! Thou dost honor with thy presence the celestial world. May the gifts of the most high God make thee to prosper!
Going on, I saw a white sea, on the shores of which a multitude of angels recited the tesbih.[205]
At length we reached the third heaven, where Gabriel, knocking at the gate, had no sooner called than the angel who was the sentinel of the gate asked, Who art thou? I am Gabriel, and Mahomet is with me. I saw that this heaven was of red hyacinth. Then the angel said to me, Be honored, O Mahomet, with the gifts of almighty God! There were thirty choirs of archangels under the orders of this sentinel of the gate, and 30,000 angels beside were ready to obey each archangel. All saluted me, which I returned, and then they wished me well. Going on, I saw two personages in a delightful spot. The countenance of one of them was as the full moon. Who are those persons? I inquired. They are, said Gabriel, the prophets Jacob and Joseph. I approached them, and exchanged greetings, whereupon they said: Welcome, O Mahomet! The Lord hath promised us that we should behold Mahomet; a hundred thousand thanksgivings to him for that we have gazed upon thy blessed face! All that thou shalt beg of him to-night, he will grant unto thee.
Withdrawing from them, I perceived two more persons. I questioned Gabriel, who answered, One is David the prophet, and the other is Solomon the prophet. I greeted them, and they returned the salute, saying, O Mahomet! enjoy the gifts of the Lord, and forget us not! Then they added: Thanks to God, we have seen thy ever-glorious face! And they wished me well. Passing on, I saw on the shore of a vast sea a gigantic angel seated on a throne. He had seventy heads. A multitude of angels seated on thrones surrounded him, and all were reciting the tesbih.
Farther on we arrived at the fourth heaven. Gabriel knocked on the gate and called. The angel who guarded it opened it joyfully, and said to me, bowing down, Welcome, O Mahomet! Be thou honored with the gifts of the most high God!
Journeying farther, we reached the fifth heaven, which is made of gold. When Gabriel had knocked at the gate and called, the angel joyfully opened it, and saluted me, saying, Be thou welcome, O Mahomet, thou wilt be honored with the gifts of the Lord! And he wished me well. After an interval, I beheld together the prophets Ishmael, Isaiah, Haroun, and Lot. I greeted them, and they said to me: [206]Whatever thou dost beg this night, O Mahomet, God will grant it unto thee without excepting anything; ask of him the salvation of the souls of all those who follow thy laws.
Pursuing my way, I came to a sea of fire. On the day of the resurrection, said Gabriel, this sea of fire will be thrown into hell, and those who dwell in hell will be tormented by this fire.
We passed this place, and reached the sixth heaven, which is made of pearls. Gabriel knocked at the gate. The guarding angel opened it, greeted me, and said, Be thou welcome, O Mahomet; thou dost crown us with joy by coming to visit the celestial world; be thou crowned with the graces of the Lord! And he called down upon me the blessings of God. Sixty choirs of angels, standing around him, recited the tesbih.
Farther on I saw a keuchk on which stood a person entirely veiled, and surrounded by a great multitude. Who is that? I asked. It is the prophet Moses (on whom be blessings!) answered Gabriel. I went to him, and saluted him. He saluted me in his turn and said, O Mahomet, be thou welcome! Happy is thy arrival! Proceed, said Gabriel to me, ascend higher. At these words, Moses began to weep. Wherefore dost thou weep? asked Gabriel of him. Alas! I imagined that my place and rank were above all; and here is Mahomet, coming after me, who surpasseth me by far; his followers will be more numerous than mine, and they will enter before them into paradise. Then the august voice of almighty God spoke to Moses in these words: O Moses! I have made thee illustrious among all by speaking to thee face to face; I have delivered thee from the malice of thine enemies. Why not return thanks unto me for the gifts thou hast received from me? I passed on, and I saw the prophet Noah and the prophet Edra. I exchanged salutations with them, and they loaded me with benedictions: Be thou welcome, O Mahomet! they said, with demonstrations of joy.
Pursuing our journey, we arrived at the seventh heaven. Gabriel, going before me, knocked at the gate and called. The angel who guarded it opened with joy, and we entered. Then he said to me: Welcome, O Mahomet! who dost honor us with thy visit! Mayst thou be honored in thy turn! There[207] were seventy choirs of archangels under the command of the angel who guarded this heaven made of light. There remained vacant not the smallest space; the angels occupied the whole heaven. We passed through this place and came to a vast keuchk, before which was erected a great chair of emerald green. A person with a white beard, seated in this chair, was leaning on the keuchk. Who is he? I asked. It is thy ancestor, the prophet Abraham, said Gabriel. I went to salute him. He returned the salute, saying, O pre-eminent prophet, be welcome! May God bless thy coming! Gabriel said to me: Behold thy residence and that of all those who follow in thy footsteps. Then he added, Enter that house and visit it, for every day 70,000 angels come to visit it. I also saw a band of creatures, half of whom were in white tunics, and the other half in white tunics striped with black. They are those who follow thee, said Gabriel. Then, addressing those who wore white tunics, he said, Enter with your Prophet. And he permitted them to enter, but he refused entrance to those garbed in the tunics striped with black and white.
Passing on, I saw a sea as black as ebony. On beholding it, my sight became as it were obscured with gloomy shadows. In this sea, I saw an innumerable throng of angels. I inquired of Gabriel: Why is the water of this sea black? No one save the Lord of all knows the nature of this sea, he answered. On the shore I saw a gigantic angel, his head touching the base of the throne of God, and his feet resting on the earth, and able to ingulf in his mouth the seven strata of the earth. At some distance I saw another angel of gigantic proportions, having seventy heads as large as this entire lower world. Each of these heads possessed seventy tongues. Night and day he recited the tesbih in honor of the Most High. Near him was an angel so enormous that if the water of all the earth’s seas had been poured into one of his eyes, it would not have sufficed to fill it. Farther on was an angel bearing 10,000 wings. Beside him was a sea, in the waters of which he plunged only to come forth immediately shaking himself. Every one of the drops which fell from his dripping wings became an angel by the creative power of God. Not far distant was another angel with four heads: one resembling that of a man, another like that of a lion, another still resem[208]bling the head of the bird houmaï, and another like that of a bull.
Proceeding, we attained the sidret-el-mountehâ. That which is thus called is a large tree, some of whose branches are of emerald, others of pearls, with foliage similar to elephants’ ears. Its fruits are of considerable size. From the foot of this tree gush four springs which flow into as many canals. Two of these canals are open to the skies, but the two others are covered. Of the first two, one is the Nile flowing through the city of Misr, and the other is the Frat, which flows through the city of Koufa. As to the other two whose beds are subterranean, one is the Selsebil, which flows through paradise; and the other pours into the basin of the Kaoucer. The water of these two rivers is whiter than milk and sweeter than honey. Angels coming toward me, greeted me, and brought three goblets, which they presented to me. In one was milk, in another wine, and in the third was honey.
I took the one containing milk, and drank it. Seeing that I did not touch the others, the angels said to me: Thou hast done well to choose the milk and to drink it, for all those who follow in thy footsteps will go forth from this world with faith. I was overjoyed at these words. Then Gabriel said, I shall not go farther. And, pausing at this place, he returned to his own form. I saw him stretch his 600 wings, with one shoulder in the east and the other in the west. I said to him, What form is this, O Gabriel? It is mine, he replied, that in which I was created.
As the wisdom and knowledge of the creatures who dwell on the surface of the earth do not go beyond the sidret-el-mountehâ, they have given him the name of Gabriel, which signifies, the lotus of the last boundary. Then he added: O Mahomet, approach now as near as it is permitted unto thee to approach, and prostrate thyself.
I therefore advanced, and when I reached that point nearest to the throne, I prostrated myself to the earth, and I saw the supreme Lord with the eyes of my heart. At that moment I heard the voice of God saying to me: Lift up thy head, and glorify my name! Raising my head immediately, I cried, Etlaiyât lillahi ouessalaouât ouettaïbat, which means, Let all be for God, whether it be the praises, homages, and tesbihs[209] uttered by the tongue, or acts of devotion, such as alms, tithes, and offerings performed with the aid of temporal goods. After which I heard these words: Esselâm aleïka eïuânnebi oue rahmet ullah oue berekâtouhou, which, being interpreted, is, Mayst thou be delivered from the terrors of the next world and from its chastisements! Mercy, benedictions, and prosperity be upon thy head! Then I said: Esselâm aleïna oue ala ibâdillahissâlihina, which signifies, May the salvation which cometh from God and his divine mercy be with me and with his faithful servants! At the same time, all the angels, seeing that I had been accorded the honor of approaching so near to the divine Majesty, exclaimed:
Ach’ adou en lâ ilaha illâllahou oue ach’ adou enne Mahometan abdouhou oue reçoulouhou, that is, We bear witness that the supreme Lord is the only living God, and that there is no other God but he. Furthermore we testify that Mahomet is his servant, and his chosen Prophet!
Then the Lord said to me: O Mahomet, I impose upon thee fifty prayers to be said within the space of a day and a night; go and prescribe these fifty prayers for them who follow in thy footsteps.
I bowed down before the divine Will, and, retracing my steps, I betook myself to the prophet Moses (on whom be blessings forever!). He asked me: Mahomet, what hath the Lord required of thee? O Moses, I answered, he hath required fifty prayers to be said in the space of a day and a night.
Mahomet, he continued, thy followers will never recite those fifty prayers. I, who went before thee, have known and proved many men, and I have received many blows from the people of Israel. Go, then, and proffer another request. It may be that the Lord God, out of his great mercy, will excuse thee from some of these fifty prayers.
I therefore returned and groaned in entreaty before the throne of God. Mahomet, said a voice, I remit ten of the fifty prayers. Thou shalt therefore only recite forty.
Again I turned back to Moses, and told him what the Lord God had said.
Go once more, he answered, pray and lament; perchance God will make another concession.
I went and prostrated myself, bewailing my fate. The Lord,[210] hearkening favorably unto me, remitted another ten prayers and only demanded thirty of me. Moses, on my return, said,
O Mahomet, turn again to God, who will surely make another concession. Thirty prayers are yet too many. I went, I entreated, I presented my request. I obtained the remission of another decade, and was ordered to say twenty only.
It is still too much, said Moses, when I had rejoined him. Thy followers cannot acquit themselves of the obligation, and will be deemed rebellious before the Lord. Seek again; doubtless thou wilt obtain what thou askest.
I went, I implored, and God excused me from ten more prayers; there remained now but ten. I came back to Moses. O Mahomet, ten prayers are still too many; it is to be feared that the faithful cannot say them. All that thou dost ask this night, God will grant unto thee. Arise, therefore, and ask again. I went, and entreated, moaning, and God excused me from five more prayers. When I returned to Moses, he said: If thou shouldst return, the Lord God would not desire to send thee away disappointed in thy hopes, but he will doubtless come to the rescue of thy followers.
I rejoiced to have obtained so great favors, and was satisfied.
Then the voice of the Almighty said to me: O Mahomet, to him of thy followers who will recite in the ardor of faith these five prayers, I promise to give the recompense due to fifty. Nor is this all; should one of the faithful form the resolution to perform a good work, I will order the angels to inscribe ten good deeds on the record of his life. If, on the contrary, he commit an evil deed, I will command it to be inscribed as one only. I will blot out the sins of those who do penance with a sincere heart, and to those who shall fast during thirty consecutive days I will grant for each day the reward of ten, which will make a total of 300 for the thirty days. Whoever will fast six days in the month of Schevval, I will grant him for each day the recompense of sixty days, so that he shall receive the reward for 360 days of abstinence. And to all these I will grant paradise at their deaths.
I said unto the Lord God: My God, thou hast given sovereignty over all to Solomon, the miraculous rod to Moses, and to Isaiah the power to bring the dead to life.[211]
The Voice of Voices replied: O Mahomet, I have raised thee above all. Moreover, I have suffered all thy followers to approach me, and I will grant them participation in my mercy.
And the voice of the Most High pronounced unto me 90,000 utterances: 30,000 on laws, 30,000 on the spiritual life, and 30,000 on the essence of truth. Then I was given this commandment: Proclaim unto all the 30,000 utterances concerning the laws; tell those on the spiritual way to those whom thou desirest, but not to those whom thou wilt reject; repeat not importunely to anyone the words on the essence of truth.
Having passed beyond, I saw 700,000 (seventy touman) curtains, some of light, others of fire, and of hyacinth; some of pearls, and others of gold. Each one has seven choirs of angels for guardians. I had no sooner reached a curtain when an angel, advancing, took me by the hand and made me cross it. Having traversed in this manner 70,000 curtains, I perceived the arch, the celestial throne. It was so large that in comparison with it heaven and earth with its seven strata are as nothing. God created the arch of red hyacinth. A multitude of angels circled around it, reciting the tesbih night and day in honor of the Lord of all. I saw also, ranged in circles around the arch 700,000 tents, each one of the dimensions of this lower world, and the distance from each tent to the next was a space the breadth of which was a 50,000-years’ journey. In each tent were fifty choirs of angels all adoring God; some standing, others seated, and others bowing their foreheads to the ground while they were reciting the tesbih. I passed through the tents, and was preparing to take off my sandals, intending to ascend the arch, when I heard the voice of the Almighty saying:
O Mahomet, remove not thy sandals, that their contact may bless my throne.
I ascended the arch, and prostrating myself to the earth before the Lord God, I cried, Glory and praise to thee forever! Then I returned.
Now must be told how the Prophet (on whom be blessings forever!) visited paradise and hell.
In his book entitled “The Beacon Lights,” Imam Bagavi (may the mercy of God be with him!) has quoted this hadis[212] written in Persian, and which is as follows: “Paradise is conquered by difficult tasks, such as prayer, fasting, pilgrimage, and holy wars. To enter it we must bind ourselves to spiritual exercises and be exact in all the practices of the true religion. Hell, too, is gained by the toils of concupiscence and by all kinds of desires.”
The Prophet (blessings upon him!) also says: When the Lord God, after having created Paradise, had adorned it with all kinds of delights, Gabriel was commanded to go to journey through it. Gabriel examined it, and saw that God, by an effort of his omnipotence, had prepared for his servants a multitude of delights which no eye had ever seen, and no ear had ever heard described. O my God! he exclaimed, whoever hears the description of paradise, will have no rest until he will have attained it.
Then it was that the Almighty surrounded the four sides of paradise with irksome tasks; such as fasting, prayer, pilgrimages, holy wars, moderation of desires (contentment), and watches consecrated to adoration. It was ordained by the supreme Will that no one should enter paradise unless he had passed through these arduous trials. Gabriel knowing this, said: If it is thus, no one will have access to this abode of delights.
Likewise, when God had created hell, he called to Gabriel, Go, Gabriel, and visit hell also. Gabriel beheld in hell all kinds of punishments and tortures which no one could ever describe. O my God! he said, no one will ever enter this hell.
Therefore the Lord surrounded the four sides of hell with all kinds of inordinate desires, with the passion for wine, unlawful intercourse with women, unbridled love of lucre, tyranny, and the exaggerated search for pleasure. At this sight, Gabriel exclaimed, My God, I see well indeed that no one will escape this hell.
Now let us return to the subject. When the Prophet returned, after having been granted access to the throne, Gabriel received this commandment from the Lord:
Guide my friend Mahomet that he may see the marvels of the paradise I have prepared for believers; then let him also contemplate the various punishments of hell that I have arranged for the wicked.[213]
Whereupon Gabriel said unto me: O Mahomet, thou must first visit the basin of Kaoucer, which was created for thee; then we shall see paradise.
We proceeded then immediately to the Kaoucer. On the edge of this basin I perceived a great quantity of koubbèh, that is domes, some of pearls and others of red hyacinth or of emerald. The slime of these waters is of musk and the pebbles which carpet the bottom of the basin are of red hyacinth. The extent of the basin of Kaoucer is that of a month’s journey. The waters are whiter than milk, sweeter than honey, and more highly perfumed than musk. All around the basin, and more numerous than the stars in heaven, there are golden vases and goblets of silver, of hyacinth, of emerald, and of pearls for those who wish to quench their thirst. Whoever drinks of this water never again feels the pangs of thirst.
In the Word (the Koran), the supreme Lord thus expresses himself: “Ana ateïnakal kaoucera fe salli li rebbika ouenhar inna châniyaka houa bilabtar,” which, being interpreted, means: “O Mahomet, I have given thee beside many goods the basin of Kaoucer. Pray, then, in honor of thy Benefactor, and sacrifice victims unto him. Whoever saith unto thee that thou art abtar [maimed] will be so himself, and not thee.”
The Prophet had by Khadija a son named Abd Allah, who died at an early age. A person called As, having been to see the Prophet to tender him his condolences, was returning to his home, when he met on the way some infidels of the tribe of Koraïchites. As, they said to him, where hast thou been? I have been to see that abtar to tender him my condolences, he answered. Now it is a custom among the Arabs to call abtar he whose son dies at an early age; indeed the meaning of this term is really who hath no offspring, no end. When the Prophet (on whom be blessings forever!) learned that the heathens had treated him as abtar, he was thereby much grieved. Then Gabriel brought him this surate.
O Mahomet, the supreme Lord giveth thee the basin of the Kaoucer; evidence thy gratitude by prayers, supplications, and offerings. Whoever doth treat thee as abtar will merit himself that epithet; he will be honored neither in this world nor in the next. As for thee, we will raise thee to such a[214] degree of veneration that until the day of resurrection thy name shall be invoked after mine in prayer.
When the Prophet heard these words of the sovereign Lord, his heart was filled with joy. Gabriel also said: O Mahomet, the first to drink of the water of the Kaoucer will be those who threw in their lot with thee when thou didst go from Mecca to Medina, and who accompanied thee to this city, leaving behind their wives and children. Next will come those who have renounced the pleasures of this world, the small, the humble, the poor, and thy companions who were esteemed of no account. On the four sides of the basin will be stationed Abou Bekr, Omar, Osman, and Ali. Whoever hates one of thy companions, will not be given to drink of this water.
Afterward Gabriel said, O Mahomet, now thou must visit paradise. When we reached its gates, Gabriel knocked. Who art thou? asked the angel who guarded the gate. Gabriel, and with me is Mahomet the chosen Prophet of God.
Immediately the angel joyfully opened the gate and welcomed us. In a garden created by the Lord of All for those who follow in my footsteps, I saw a multitude of houris. Some were seated on thrones, and others sportively clasped each other’s hands. Birds fluttered around and finally alighted on the heads of these houris. On a certain day (the day of Azineh, Friday) they mount goats and go to visit each other, and spend their time in laughter and amusements; then they separate after an exchange of good wishes.
I saw also a keuchk in the centre of the gardens. A multitude of houris were laughing and dallying on the lawns which surrounded it. To whom does that keuchk belong? I asked. To Omar, answered the houris, among whom I recognized Romeïca, the wife of Talka.
Is it indeed thou whom I see here, O Romeïca? I said.
It is I indeed, O Prophet. The Most High hath shown mercy unto me, and hath granted me the grace of entrance into paradise.
When the Prophet was asked for details concerning the dwellers in paradise, he answered: These fortunate beings are of the stature of Adam, whose height was sixty cubits, and of the age of the prophet Isaac, who was thirty years of age[215] when he was on earth; they are as handsome as the prophet Joseph, and in their bearing they are like unto the prophet Jacob, on whom be blessings forever! They have neither hair nor beards, and their eyes are anointed with surmeh. In their hearts there exists neither envy nor hate. They are no more susceptible to pain than to old age, and they are subject to none of the necessities of human nature. As for the houris, whatever the number of the tunics they wear, they are all transparent; one beneath the other; their flesh is seen under the tunics, and their bones beneath the flesh, and even the marrow of the bones appears distinctly. Nor do the houris entertain sentiments of envy. Each follower of the true faith has also a tent entirely of gold, sixty igadj (300 miles) in diameter.
Gabriel next said to me: O Mahomet, now that thou hast seen the dwelling place of thy friends, it is time to visit the spot destined for the enemies of the most high Lord.
Then did I see that hell was a terrible and horror-inspiring region. At the gate stood an angel of sinister and terrifying mien. Who is that angel? I asked Gabriel. His name is Mâlik, he replied. He is the prince of hell whose entrance he guards. Since his creation, he has never smiled, nor has he exchanged with anyone whomsoever the slightest colloquy. I saluted him, but he did not return the salutation.
It is Mahomet, said Gabriel. Immediately Mâlik offered me apologies, saying: Rejoice, O Mahomet, on account of the gifts of the Lord, who hath desired thee to behold the works of his omnipotence, and who hath generously loaded thee with so many benefits.
O Mâlik, said I, breathe once upon the fires of hell. Mâlik blew once, and Gabriel and I stood stricken with terror.
I saw in the middle of hell a tree which shaded a space 500-years’ journey in dimension. Its thorns were like lances, and its excrescences resembled the heads of dio (demons). Gabriel said to me: This tree is the zakkoum, whose fruit is more bitter than poison. The dwellers in hell taste it only to reject it at once.
At the foot of this tree I saw a band of reprobates whom the angels were torturing by cutting off their tongues, which were always renewed and cut off anew. Who are these wretches? I inquired of Gabriel. They are, he replied, those[216] leaders who have not ceased to say to others: Drink no wine, commit no impure actions, and beware of wicked and perverse deeds, while they themselves, not practising their own precepts, commit all kinds of reprehensible acts.
I also saw another company of persons whose flesh the angels were cutting off and forcing them to eat.
And who are they? I asked. They are those, answered Gabriel, who mocked Mussulmen to their faces, and said evil of them in their absence, without fearing the day of the resurrection.
Again I saw a group of men whose abnormally enlarged stomachs prevented them from moving an inch. Who are they? I asked. They are the greedy, who were insatiable in their thirst for gain. Some more I saw whom the angels were tormenting by pricking them with lances. Who are those yonder? I inquired. Those, he answered, who, denouncing Mussulmen to their oppressors, used violence to take possession of their goods; and not content with that, by practising slander among Mussulmen, breed rivalries, wrangling, and discord. Farther on was a band of men suspended by chains in the midst of the flames of hell. And who are they? They are those, said Gabriel, who prayed hypocritically when they were on earth that they might be honored as pious and virtuous persons. They had no other aim but temporal advantages, and thought not of the rewards of the future life nor did they reflect upon the day of the last judgment.
I saw also a number of women suspended by their hair in hell. From their nostrils whirlwinds of flame gushed forth. Who are those women? I asked. They are the immodest ones, said Gabriel, who allowed their hair to be seen by strangers, who, enticed by this sight, coveted these women. And thereby sprang up between them criminal relations, for they had lost all fear of the last judgment.
Beyond were some women whose feet and hands were bound. Serpents and scorpions swarmed over them, stinging and biting them. Who are these women? I asked. They lived in impurity, Gabriel answered, without ever praying, or performing ablutions, nor do they request anyone to teach them the laws of ablutions. Neither have they ever learned in what prayer consists. Again I saw some women hung by their[217] tongues in the midst of hell-fire. And who are these? They left their husbands no repose by their unceasing scolding and bickerings. They went out from their homes without permission and committed shameful actions.
[The Prophet (may salvation attend him!) said that paradise would be the reward of the women who obey the commandments of the Lord of All, and who trouble not their husbands with scolding and quarreling.]
At some distance, I beheld a group of people whom the angels were tormenting by pouring poison down their throats. What have these people done? said I. They consumed the goods of orphans without thought of the day of the last judgment.
Next I saw a multitude of women suspended by their breasts, who were being tormented without mercy or respite. I sought to learn who these women were. They brought into the world, said Gabriel, the fruit of their criminal deeds; then, by pretending that they were legitimate, these mothers gave to them the inheritance of others, and bestowed on them wealth which was not lawfully theirs.
Farther on, I perceived some with grindstones hung around their necks. They were bound hand and foot, and angels tortured them unrelentingly. Who are these? I inquired of Gabriel. They paid not the tithes of their wealth. Full of indulgence for their desires, they thought not of this great day, and through the avarice which filled their souls, they could not resolve to purify their wealth by alms.
Again I beheld a band of wretches, with blackened faces, their necks and hands loaded with chains, and who were undergoing frightful tortures. I asked their crime. They always greeted the great with flattering compliments, answered Gabriel.
At some distance was a group of men whose tongues protruded from their mouths. Their heads were as those of swine, and they had legs and tails similar to those of asses. They are, said Gabriel, those who bore false witness, as they possessed not the fear of the Most High.
Some also I saw who were slain and brought to life alternately, while they were asked, What good hast thou ever done?
Some, too, were enchained by their necks. Angels poured[218] poison in their throats and cruelly chastised them. Who are those unfortunates? I asked. Those who drank wine, answered Gabriel, and died unrepentant.
I also saw at the gate of hell a certain number of chests, filled with serpents and scorpions writhing out only to return. Gabriel, questioned by me, replied: These are the haughty, with hearts full of pride and harsh in their deeds, whom these serpents and scorpions will torment until the day of the resurrection, and who will suffer eternally.
The Prophet (upon whom be blessings forever!) says: O ye who follow my way, weep without ceasing through fear of hell, and do ye those deeds which shall earn for thee happiness in the next world; for terrible are the agonies of hell! Its depth is equal to the distance between heaven and earth. When the Lord God created hell, he ordered the angels to keep it burning for a thousand years in succession, when it became red. When they had kept it burning for another thousand years, it became white. Still another thousand years it was kept burning, and it became black. As for the infidels who enter hell, their skin is of the thickness of forty cubits; their teeth are as large as Mount Ohod. Everyone occupies a space equal to the distance which separates Mecca from Medina. The reprobates, in the very heart of hell, weep so that their countenances have furrows like canals, and when their tears are exhausted, blood commences to flow from their eyes.
When I returned, after having successfully visited paradise and hell, I received from the Lord God the following commandment: O Mahomet, now that thou hast seen the marvels of my omnipotence, go, tell them to those who follow in thy footsteps. Promise paradise to the faithful, and seek to warn the infidels, the hypocrites, and the vicious by inspiring them with the fear of the tortures of hell. As for thee, do thou persevere with patience in the holy practices of the true religion; be thou mild in thy speech and kind in thy deeds. Invoke my name before all thy actions, for I am nearer unto thee than is thy soul itself. Even if the infidels invoke my name, I will not leave them without hope. O Mahomet, let not thy heart be puffed up with pride, for I love not those who are intoxicated with vanity.
After the Lord God had spoken to me, Gabriel made me[219] mount on his wings, and so brought me to the mount of Kâf. I saw that this mountain, which is entirely of emerald, completely surrounds the earth. Gabriel, by the command of God, showed me two cities on the summit of Mount Kâf, one situated to the eastward, and the other to the west. One was called Djabalaça and the other Djabalaka. Each of them had a thousand gates; and from one gate to the next there was a distance of an igadj. All the houses were exactly the same size. While the mosques were situated far from the dwellings, the cemeteries were at their very doors. Who are these people? I asked. Followers of the religion of Moses, answered Gabriel, and said unto them, Here is Mahomet, whereupon they all cried out, Praise to the most high Lord of all, who hath granted us a sight of thy blessed countenance! And they all without an exception embraced my faith at once. Then I inquired why all their houses were the same size. It is because, answered they, there is no jealousy or envy among us, and therefore no desire to excel each other. But what is the reason, I again asked, of the distance of the mosques from your residences, while the cemeteries are within a stone’s throw? If we have built our mosques at some distance, said they, it is to remind us that heaven will be our future reward, whereas we have our cemeteries near by that we may be unceasingly reminded of death. Then they added, O Mahomet, we pray, we observe the fasts, we practise charity toward each other, we entertain no wicked sentiments in our hearts, we conceive no projects of hate nor of revenge, nor do we encourage spite; honoring our fathers and mothers, we avoid all that will give them pain; we beware of all wicked deeds. Now give us advice, and enlighten us with thy precepts. I answered thus: Live always in the fear of almighty God, suffer not your hearts to be puffed up with pride, and humbly submit yourselves to the yoke of the law.
All having unreservedly resolved to put my words into practice, I arose and we went to visit them all individually, and they swore allegiance to the true faith.
May the Lord of all accord them the grace of good works, and the scrupulous practice of the true religion; may he deliver them from the torments of hell, and make them participate in the joys of paradise. Amen and amen, O Ruler of all worlds![220]
THE MARVELS OF THE FOURTH HEAVEN
The Prophet (may grace and blessings be upon him!) said also: I reached the fourth heaven, which was created of pure silver and which is called Aziloun. It has a portal of light adorned with a lock of light. [According to another description, it was made of pearls.] Compared to it, the seven strata of the earth are as a ring in the midst of a vast plain. On the fastening of the gate are engraved these words: “There is no other God but Allah; Mahomet is His Chosen Prophet.” At this gate was stationed an angel [named Azraël according to one story, and Moucâil according to another]. After we had knocked on the gate as before and answered the question he put to us, he opened the gate. I saw there innumerable marvels, eight only of which will be mentioned in this book:
First. Moucâil, the angel who is stationed at the gate, exercises a supervision over all that exists, and he has under his command 400,000 angels. His tesbih is as follows: Glory be to the Creator of darkness and light, of the dazzling sun, and the silver moon! Glory be unto the Lord God, the Most High!
Second. I saw there my brother Moses, blessings be upon him forever! [According to another account, this interview took place in the sixth heaven.] Gabriel having bidden me by a sign to do so, I approached, and saluted him. He arose, pressed me to his heart, and kissed me between my eyes, saying, Glory be to Allah, who hath permitted me to behold thy countenance, and hath given me the honor of seeing thee. Then he gladdened me by the tidings of a great number of marvellous gifts of the Lord, and said:
This night thou wilt be brought even unto the feet of the sovereign Majesty, to that sanctuary where no creature hath access. Forget not when thou art there the feeble and the faithful; ask a share for them of all that may be granted to thee; endeavor to obtain for them as many mitigations of the lawful commandments as possible. I hearkened unto him, and overheard him as he recited this tesbih: Glory be to him who guides whom he wills in the right way, and leads astray whom he wills! Glory be to the All-Merciful, the All-Pitiful![221]
Third. As I went away, Moses began to weep. When I asked him the cause of his tears, It is because, he said, there has been sent after me a young apostle whose followers will enter paradise in greater numbers than mine.
[According to another account, he thus explained the motive of his tears: The children of Israel regarded me as the most honored of all the sons of Adam by the most high God, and now is this young man more honored than I, and the favor of which he is the object will be necessarily shared by his followers. He will be the first of the prophets in the eyes of God, and his followers will be the first of all nations.]
The Lord God having summoned the angels, all approached on their knees and began to recite this tesbih: Glory be to the All-Merciful and All-Pitiful! Glory unto him from whom nothing is hidden! Glory unto the supreme Master of all worlds!
Is it thus that they worship? I asked of Gabriel.
Yes, he answered, and pray to God that thy followers may be granted the grace to do likewise. I asked, and the Lord God, hearkening unto my prayer, commanded this posture in the namâz (orison).
Fourth. I beheld in this heaven Meriem-Khatoun, the mother of Moses, and Acièh, the wife of Fer’oun. All three came toward me. Meriem had for her use 70,000 keuchk, all of emerald. The mother of Moses had 70,000 keuchk of white pearls, and Acièh had 70,000 of red hyacinth and 70,000 of red coral.
Fifth. An angel was seated on a throne, with moody air and contracted brows. At each of the four corners of this throne were 700,000 steps of gold and of silver. All around there was such a multitude of angels that God alone could know their number.
On the right of the throne I saw resplendent angels, all clothed in green, breathing exquisite perfumes, pronouncing words which charmed the ear, and whose countenances were of such dazzling beauty that the eye could not gaze upon them. On the left I saw the angels of darkness, with faces and garments of black, of discordant speech, and exhaling a pestilential odor. As they uttered the tesbih flames leaped out from their mouths. Before them were spears, maces, and piles of[222] fire-arms whose aspect could not be borne. The angel who was seated on the throne was covered from head to foot with eyes as brilliant as Venus and Mars. He had as great a number of wings. He held in his hand a leaflet, and before him was a small board on which he fastened his eyes and never raised them. There was also before him a tree whose leaves God alone could number, and on each leaf was written the name of a mortal. The angel had also a sort of basin at his disposal. Sometimes he plunged his right hand therein and drew out an object which he handed to the luminous angels on his right, sometimes he seized the object with his left hand and delivered it to the angels of darkness.
At the sight of this angel, my heart was filled with awe, a trembling seized my whole body, and I felt my strength abandoning me. I questioned Gabriel, who said: It is Azraël, whose face no one can behold; he who destroys joys and who sunders all ties. Then, addressing him directly, Gabriel said, Behold, O Azraël, the Prophet of recent times, Mahomet, the friend of the All-Merciful. Azraël raised his head, smiled, and arose to do me honor.
Be thou welcome, he said. The Most High hath created none more worthy of reverence than thou; thy people are also the most favored of all in his sight. As for me, I feel more compassion for thine, than for their fathers and mothers. Thou hast rejoiced my heart, I answered, and thou hast freed my soul from its anguish. Nevertheless, there remains one care. Why do I see thee so full of sadness and grief?
Apostle of God, he replied, since almighty God appointed me to this ministry I fear that I shall not worthily fill the office and that I shall be unable to render account for it. And what, then, is that bowl? I asked. It is the entire lower world from Mount Kâf to Mount Kâf; it occupies no more space than that in my eyes, and I wield there a supreme power. And that small board? It is that which marks the appointed hour of every creature. And this leaflet? It is the record of all that happens. And that tree? On its leaves are inscribed the names of all creatures, happy or unhappy, with their felicity or their misery. If anyone be sick, his leaf becomes yellow. When the moment of his death comes, this same leaf falls on the tablet, where his name is blotted out. Then I stretch forth[223] my hand and seize his soul whether it be in the east or the west. If it be the soul of one blessed, I give it to the angels on my right, who are the angels of divine mercy. If it be the soul of a reprobate, I consign it to those on my left, who are the angels of damnation.
And what is the number of all these angels?
I know not; only every time I receive the soul of one dying there are present 600,000 angels of mercy and 600,000 angels of damnation, who observe to which category the soul belongs, and those who have assisted once at this function will never return to witness it again until the day of the resurrection.
Angel of Death, I said, is it indeed thou who dost seize the souls of all dying?
Since I was created I have never moved from this place where thou dost see me now, but I have in my service 70,000 angels, each of whom has likewise under his orders 70,000 angels. When I desire to seize a soul, they go to conduct the soul of the dying one into his throat, whence I receive it, stretching forth my hand from this throne.
I entreat thee, said the Prophet, to consider the weakness of my followers and to take them only with gentleness and care.
I call Allah to witness, said Azraël, he who hath created thee the seal of prophets and his chief friend, that the Creator (everlasting glory to him!) in person urges me 70,000 times night and day to take the souls of the followers of Mahomet gently, and to let all my dealings with them be as considerate as possible. Assuredly I have more affection for them than their own mothers.
Sixth. I also saw there a sea whose waters were whiter than snow. Gabriel, questioned by me, told me that it was called the Sea of Snow, and if a drop of its waters escape the heavens and earth would perish with cold.
Seventh. I saw the blooming temple beïti ma’mour. [According to others, the beïti el ma’mour was situated on the sidret-el-mountehâ above the seventh heaven. However this may be, this is the description of it given by the Prophet.] It is a mansion of red hyacinth with two portals of green emerald. Ten thousand lustres of red gold hung from the ceiling, adorned with hyacinths and gems every one of which shed[224] forth more light than the sun. At the door of this temple was placed a pulpit of gold and a minaret of white silver, whose height was that of a 500-years’ journey. Since the temple was created, and so it will be until the day of the resurrection, every day 70,000 angels coming under the arch bathe in a sea of light; they make the circuit like pilgrims clad with the ihrâm, repeating Lebbeïk, lebbeïk (We are here, we are here); and once they have performed this duty their turn will never come again until the day of the resurrection.
Then Gabriel, taking me by the hand, led me to the blossoming temple and said to me, Apostle of God, perform here the functions of imam, and let the angels take thee for a model. I said a prayer of two rik’at, and I served as model for the angels who people the seven heights of the heaven. At the sight of this multitude surrounding me there came to my mind that my followers might unite in the same manner. He who penetrates all secrets and hidden things made a commandment of the desire nestling in my heart: O Mahomet, there should be among thy followers a meeting of this kind and which will be a day of reunion, yeomi djum’a.
[In certain commentaries it is said that on the day of reunion the angels who people the heavens meet at the blossoming temple. Gabriel recites the ezân upon the minaret, Esrâfil pronounces the khotbèh in the pulpit; Mikaïl fills the office of imam, and the angels of the seven heavens follow his directions.
When the prayer of the day of reunion is finished, Gabriel says: O ye angels, bear witness that I yield the recompense for my ezân to the muezzin of the followers of Mahomet. Esrâfil, in his turn, says that he yields to their khatib the reward of the khotbèh, and Mikaïl abandons to them the recompense for the imamat, while the angels do as much for all the faithful who join in common prayer. Then the most high God, speaking to the angels, says: Do ye think to show me what generosity is, I who am the Creator of generosity! Be ye witnesses that I remit all the sins of the followers of Mahomet, and that I deliver them from hell!]
Eighth. There, it is said, the Prophet saw the sun, which, according to a tradition, is 160 times the size of the terrestrial globe. According to Ibn-Abbas, its breadth is that of a 60,000-years’ journey. When God created the sun, he[225] made for it a golden barge, on which he placed a throne of red hyacinth, with 360 steps, on each one of which were 1,000 angels. The sun was placed on the barge, which is placed on a throne by 360,000 angels. Every day they guide the barge on the sea of the fourth heaven from sunrise to sunset; then they devote themselves to the adoration of the Most High. The next day, 360,000 other angels come to take the places of those who did this service the day before; and so will it be until the day of the resurrection without the recurrence of the same angels’ turn. The Lord God has said: The sun goes to its fixed point.
According to certain commentaries, the fixed point of the sun is beneath the arch, to the foot of which this star is brought back every night, and where it is prostrated before the Most High until the dawn. At that moment, obedient to the divine command, it comes forth from the east, and so it will be until the approach of resurrection day. It will then receive the command to rise in the west. This tradition is preserved in the book of the deceased Imam Talebi, entitled “Araïs” (“The Betrothed”).
Then, said the Prophet, I reached the fifth heaven.
Without pausing, we proceeded forward. As soon as we had reached the fourth heaven, Gabriel, always at his post, passing before me, knocked at the gate, saying: Open! Who is there? he was asked. I, Gabriel, he replied, accompanying Mahomet, the king of apostles. Be ye welcome! exclaimed the angels who guarded the gate, and who, opening the gate, approached us. This heaven was of gold entirely red. Here was an angel named Salsail. He advanced to meet us, and Gabriel saluted him, whereupon Salsail said to me: Receive our congratulations, O Mahomet! Thou who art in so great favor with the Lord God, thou who art the greatest of all prophets! It is for thee to intercede for thy followers, O well-beloved of the Lord, for thee whose happy star has made thy followers the most fortunate of all!
I saw innumerable choirs of angels standing to receive the commands of Salsail. All recited unceasingly the tesbih, nor did they grow weary night or day. Here, too, I saw David, whom I saluted. He returned the salutation and said to me, Welcome, O apostle of truth, venerable brother, august[226] prophet! With David I also saw Solomon in this heaven. As soon as they saw me they came to meet me, and exchanged salutations. Here I saw seated on a throne an angel whose luminous brilliancy filled the heaven. So imposing and majestic was his appearance that none can look upon his countenance. His head almost touched the arch, while his feet reached down below the earth. The entire universe was for him as a plain where each particular man is as a porringer.
Before him also was a large tablet on which he constantly fixed his eyes. Opposite the angel was a gigantic tree whose boughs were covered with green leaves, and two awe-inspiring spears were suspended before him; one white, and the other black. Entirely absorbed in his ministry, the angel paid attention to no one, and his harsh and frowning features gave him an altogether terrible and forbidding expression. At the sight of him, my soul was seized with awe, my heart grew cold, and my body trembled. Who, then, is that angel? I asked of Gabriel. At what task is busied this being of such imposing mien? Behold, said Gabriel, him who slays the sons despite their fathers’ cries, who makes children orphans, and causes the rich to weep even as the poor; he who dissolves all unions, and turns laughter into tears; Azraël himself, who bears away all souls, and leaves lifeless those who were replete with life.
I then approached him, and saluted him, but so occupied was he, that he did not glance toward me.
Brother, cried Gabriel to him, turn to this side; doff thy fierce expression, for here is the prophet of recent times, the friend of Allah, and the prince of apostles. He raised his head and saluted me, saying: Pardon me, O imam, for during the long time that I have been busy in accomplishing my work, I have not lifted my head a single time. Tell me, I said, what is that tablet, what is that tree, and what are those spears?
O Mahomet! he answered, this tree causes the death of all those who live on earth. Every one of them has his leaf on this tree, although the slime of which they were moulded was taken from the earth. Every one of them also has his name written on the leaf which is assigned to him as well as on this tablet. In whatever part of the world he is when his existence reaches the fatal hour, his leaf dries and falls at[227] once. At the same time his name is erased from this tablet and disappears, even as he himself is wiped out and departed from the life of the earth. It is then that I take possession of his soul so inevitably that no one can find a way to escape his destiny. As for myself, I never have one minute of distraction and let nothing escape me, and never do I hearken unto the entreaties of anyone. If it be the soul of one of the elect, I seize it with this white spear. If it be, on the contrary, the soul of a reprobate, I use the black lance. If the soul be that of a faithful follower of thy creed, O Mahomet! I assist him to ascend to heaven in light; but if it be that of an infidel, I suffer it to fall in torment down to hell amid encircling gloom.
Having again resumed our journey, we soon reached a lofty castle, to the summit of which the eye could not attain, and the surpassing beauty of which the intelligence was powerless to grasp to its full extent.[229][228]
BY
M O H A M M E D F A S L I
[Metrical Translation by J. von Hammer-Purgstall and Epiphanius
Wilson]
XLIV
King Autumn Sends a Reconnoitring Party to the City of Rose Garden, and in a Moment Conquers It, and Paints It in His Own Livery
Declaration of the Hidden Meaning Which for the Mystic Lies in This True History and Mournful Narrative
The Close of the Book
IT is related that the wife of a great king unjustly accused his son, by another mother, of an act of treachery against his father; and that that king was wroth, and for forty mornings caused his son to be led forth to be slain; and that that king had many vezirs, all of whom were peerless in the sea of understanding, and in thoughtfulness and sagacity, and full of plans and devices; and that when the king each morning caused his son to be led forth for execution, these vezirs gave the king counsel, and each morning a vezir, telling a story, calmed the king’s heart and turned away his wrath, and saved the prince from his hand; and again, that each night that crafty lady, letting not the king rest, ever incited him to the slaughter of the prince, and with enticing and beguiling words, repeated each night a story to the king, and made his understanding forsake him; and that through the words of that crafty lady, every morning for forty days he caused his son to be led into his presence to be slain; and that the vezirs by telling a story delivered him. After forty days the innocence of the prince was manifested and the falsehood and calumny of the crafty lady disclosed; and she received her due, and the prince was greatly loved and esteemed before his father when the truth of his affair was known. The adventures of the king, and the lady and the prince, and his governor and the vezirs, and what befell between them, will be related; and sixteen of the stories told by the vezirs in the forty days, and by the lady in the forty nights will be set forth and narrated. “With God is grace: how excellent a friend is he![362]”
They tell in history books, that there was in Persia a great king, whose name was Khānqīn, and in the grasp of whose possession were the Seven Climes. As he was gracious and able and sagacious, kingliness and the bases of empire were present in him. God most high had give him a fair son, by whose beauty the people of the world were bewildered. Whosoever looked upon his loveliness would say, “Is it magic, this?”[3] and he who beheld his tall figure would exclaim, “This is no mortal!”[4] Fair was his beauty and charming was his self, and desired of lovers. Moreover, his were accomplishments and perfections; he had no rival in the reading of science, or in penmanship, or in archery, or in horsemanship; and his fair character was talked of and celebrated among high and low. The king, too, whenever he saw him, experienced a hundred thousand pleasures, and looked upon him as the source of his life. The mother of this youth was of the lovely ones of China.[5] One day she fell ill, and at length, no remedy availing, she was received into Mercy. Thereupon, after some time had passed, his father married the daughter of a great king and brought her to his palace.
After a while this lady fell in love with the prince. For a long time she hid her love in her heart, and, saying in herself, “He is my step-son, what help for it!” she disclosed it not. But when, day after day, she looked upon his beauty, she was no longer able to bear with patience the fire of love, and, bringing into the field the wallet of craft, she was busy night and day with stratagems. Now the king had given the prince to a governor to be taught the sciences of astronomy and astrology, and the boy was night and day occupied acquiring them. One day the governor looked at the youth’s horoscope, and perceived there was a space of forty days in most sinister aspect. Did he say a word about this, he would be pointing out a great calamity; so he was exceeding grieved, and his heart was contracted. But he said to the prince, “I have this day looked at thy horoscope and seen a most sinister aspect; such is it, my life,[6] that thou must obey the command and[363] decree of God most high, and observe my injunction, else thou shalt die.”
The prince heard these words of his governor and his color changed, and he said to his teacher, “Order what thou wilt: command is thine.” Quoth the teacher, “O son, the way of averting this calamity is thus stated in the book: for the space of forty days thou shalt not speak one word though a naked sword be above thy head.” Then he bade the prince bear in mind certain of the holy names and blessed litanies, and sent him to his father. The governor thereupon hid in a vault and concealed himself.[7] When the prince came to his father, the latter said to him, “My son, what hast thou read and written this day?” but the prince gave no answer to his father. Again quoth the king, “O my life, what does thy master?” again he gave no answer. Again his father said, “O life of my life, what has befallen thee? Why dost thou not speak?” Again he gave no answer. Then said the king to his son’s guardian, “The boy is sad to-day, take him to his mother, maybe that his heart will expand.” Then the guardian took the youth to the lady and said, “Lady, this youth is sad, he has not uttered one syllable to his father this day, therefore has he sent him to thee, that peradventure he may speak beside his mother.” The lady was glad and said, “Clear the house, go, be off; that I may learn somewhat of the prince, and banish his sadness and grief.”
When she was alone with the youth the lady threw her arm round his neck, and said, “O my life, ah, my lord, what has befallen thee that thy heart is thus sad, and that thou art disconsolate and mournful? Whatever thy father possesses is in my hand; if thou wilt make thy heart one with mine, and act according to my words, I will turn away thy sadness.” To her too the prince gave no answer. Again said the lady, “Thou art a grown-up youth, I too am a young lady; thy father is a decrepit old man, with neither thought nor discernment; if thou wilt assure me, and swear to me, and accept me as thy legal wife, I will make shift to kill thy father and make thee king in his stead. First, I swear by God, and for God, and in God, that I speak these words from the bottom of my heart[364] and from my very soul, and that I will not falsify these words; do thou likewise assure me, and swear to me that I may act accordingly.” The prince answered not a word.
Quoth the lady, “O dearer than my life, should thou ask how I will kill thy father; lo, in the treasury are many kinds of poisons, of one of which if a person eat, he turns ill and after three months dies. The people will not know the cause of his death, and will not suspect that he has eaten poison. They will say he but took ill, and will doubtless make thee king. Should thou say I am thy step-mother and wonder how thou art to marry me, the way is this: send me off to my own country, and while yet on the road, send someone after me who shall come in the guise of a robber and pounce upon us by night and seize me; so it will be said that robbers have seized me. Then buy me as a slave girl from that man, and make me thy wife; so none will know.” But the prince answered her not at all, and spake not. Then the lady grew desperate at his not speaking, and her patience was exhausted, and she said, “O my soul, O my gliding angel, why wilt thou not speak to me?” And she put her arm round his neck and drew him to her and made to kiss him. And the prince was wroth, and he smote the lady’s mouth with the back of his hand, so that her mouth filled with blood.
When she saw this conduct the fire of anger blazed up in the hearth of her breast, and the sparks from the fumes of her pride gained her heart, and she cried, “Out on thee! fool! boy! I sought to raise thee to the throne and make thee king, and thou didst strike me thus; now will I speak to thy father that he shall hew thee in pieces, small even as thine ear.” And she dishevelled her hair and smeared the four sides of her robe with the blood of her mouth and sat down, sad and tearful, feeble and wailing. Then the youth went to his private apartments. After a time the king came to the harem, thinking to inquire of the lady concerning the affair of the prince, and he saw her seated besmeared with red blood. And the king marvelled at this sight, and said to the lady, “What is this matter? explain to me.” She said, “O king, that degenerate son of thine! God forbid that he be son of thine!” “What is the matter?” said the king.
The lady replied, “I saw that degenerate youth that he was[365] sad, and I cleared the palace that I might banish his sadness, and I said to him, ‘My son, why art thou sad?’ Then he stretched forth his hand and made to do me wrong, but I prevented him. Then he said to me, ‘Why dost thou flee me? if thou wilt be my mistress and make thy heart one with mine, and assure me thereof, it is my intention to kill my father and make thee my wife; and the riches, and the country, and the throne, and the kingdom will be ours,’ But I consented not, and he desired to kill me that I might not make known this matter to the king. And I cried out for the saving of my life, and he left me in this plight and went away. Now, O king, know of a surety that he purposes evil against thee, and see to the saving of thine own life, else crown and throne will go from thy hands; so ere he kill thee do thou kill him that thou be secure from his wickedness.” When the king heard these words from the lady he was wroth, and that night sleep came not to his eyes.
In the early morning he went forth and sat upon his throne, and caused the prince to be brought before him, that he might order the executioner to smite off his head. The courtiers who were beside him got the executioner to delay, and at once sent word to the vezirs. As soon as they knew what was happening, the vezirs came with all speed to the presence of the king, and said, “O king, how has the prince this day thus merited the anger of the king?”
The king related to the vezirs the events that had taken place, whereupon the grand vezir said, “Slay not thy son, trusting on the woman’s word; do not a deed beyond the ordinance of God and the law of the Messenger:[8] and there is no permission in the law for one to act on a woman’s word. If there were witnesses that the prince had done this thing to the lady, then were command the king’s; but spill not blood unjustly, that afterward thou suffer not regret and remorse. They have said that whatsoever oppression there be in a country it is incumbent on him who is king to banish it; where then were room for kings to do deeds beyond the law and spill blood unjustly? If they be negligent in the matter of banishing oppression, God most high will visit and afflict them with four sorts of troubles: firstly, he will make their life short;[366] secondly, he will let the enemy prevail against them; thirdly, he will give the enemy aid and victory; and fourthly, on the resurrection day he will be wroth with them and consign them to the torment of hell.
“He then is wise who will not for a five-days’ life lose the hereafter, and is not needless. And, moreover, the holy Messenger (peace on him!) when going to perform the ablution would first of all perform it with sand; the companions asked, ‘O Apostle of God, is it lawful to perform the sand ablution when there is water?’ The most noble beloved of God replied, ‘I fear lest death let me not reach the water.’ Now, O king, be not presumptuous through worldly fortune and kingship, and consent not to a deed contrary to the law, and ruin not thy hereafter, trusting in the woman’s word. For by reason of the craft of woman has many a head been cut off; and the blessed Messenger hath said, ‘Whatsoever misfortunes befall my people will befall them through women.’ And wise is he who looks at the beginning and end of an affair, like that king who took counsel with his sons and his vezirs and the elders of the country, and was prospered alike in the world and the hereafter. And that story is a fair story; if the king grant leave I will relate it.” The king said, “Tell on.” Quoth the vezir:
“There was of old time in the palace of the world a great king, such that the world was under his rule. He had lived enjoying sovereignty for a hundred and twenty years in the palace of the world, and was grown old and knew that in the near future he would be given to drink of the potion of death. And the king had three moon-faced[9] sons and likewise three able and skilful vezirs. One day quoth the king to his vezirs, ‘The end of this my life draws nigh; the natural life of man is a hundred and twenty years, after that not an old man remains. Now I have reached that state and the affair is thus, I wish to appoint one of my sons to my place, and, leaning my back against the wall of abdication, take rest. Which of my sons do ye deem worthy of the throne?’ The vezirs said,[367] ‘O king, long be thy life; a person’s good and bad are not known till he have been proved; for two things are the touchstone of a man; the first is wine, the second, office; in these two things is a person’s manfulness apparent and manifest. This were best, for nine days let these thy three sons enjoy the throne and sovereignty, and with this touchstone let the king prove them; whatever be the character of each of them, it will appear; for the rest, let the king order accordingly,’
“When the king heard these words from the vezirs they seemed right good to his heart, and he commanded that each son should sit for three days on the throne and exercise sovereignty, and declared that he would allow whatever they should annul or appoint, and whatever they should grant from the treasury, and whatever justice or oppression they might show, and that no one should say aught. Then the eldest son of the king sat upon the throne and directed the government, and he practised justice and equity on such wise as cannot be described. He loved the doctors and turned from the foolish, and gave the high offices to the learned, and withdrew from listening to things forbidden and what was vain, and strove much in well-doing.
“Then the king, to prove the judgment of his son, sent him three persons from prison, one was a murderer, and one a thief, and one an adulterer; and with them he sent the complainants. When they came before the prince the complainants stated their case and the witnesses bore witness that these three persons were indeed guilty, and that these words were no calumny against them, but true. When the prince knew how the case was, he said, ‘On a man’s coming into the world he is the blood of his father’s and mother’s hearts; and, after bearing these many troubles and afflictions, a man in forty years becomes mature; so it is not well to slay him in a minute, as God most high will in the hereafter surely punish him in hell.’ And he made them vow that henceforward they would do no such deeds, and set all three at liberty. And for the whole three days he ruled with justice.
“On the fourth day the turn came to the middle son, and he likewise sat upon the throne and directed the government. He abased the learned and promoted the foolish; and adopted as habit wine and music, and as profession avarice and [368]meanness. Brief, he was the opposite of his elder brother. According to the custom, they sent to him too three criminals. When the prince heard how the case was he said, ‘Men like these are the thorns of the country;’ and he ordered that the three of them perished. When he too had ruled for three days, the turn came to the youngest prince, and he likewise sat upon the throne and directed the government. He gave to the doctors the post suitable to the doctors, and to the learned the high offices, and to the strong and impetuous young heroes, military fiefs, and to the champions, feudal domains; and he registered their pay. He honored each of them according to his position, and abased the unmannerly. Brief, he put each one in his proper place, like a string of pearls; and he left not his gate unlocked lest the foe should triumph over him.
“The king again sent three culprits from the prison that he might try his judgment. When they were present the servants informed him, and he said, ‘Bring them one by one,’ Then when the witnesses had borne witness that the man had indeed committed murder, the prince said, ‘Murder is of two kinds, the one intentional, the other accidental; and the intentional is also of two kinds, the first when a person strikes another with an iron instrument and kills him, him it is needful to put to death in retaliation; and they have written in the Book of Dues that if one person strike another with a stick and kill him, or if he throw him into a fire, then the fine for blood and the expiation alike become necessary. And the other too is accidental, when the expiation is incumbent, and he is culpable, but the fine for blood does not become necessary. And that is accidental when a person shoots an arrow at a deer, and it glances and hits a man and kills him; as God most high hath said, “Then whoso killeth a believer by mischance, then (the expiation is) the freeing of a believer from bondage ... but if he find not (the means of doing so), then a fast for two consecutive months.”’[10]
“Then the prince asked and learned that he had murdered intentionally; so they executed him. After that they brought the thief; and the prince said, ‘If anyone, sane and of age, steal ten minted dirhems of silver, his hand must be cut off, as also if he steal one dīnār of gold, even as saith the Apostle[369] (peace on him!), “No cutting save for a dīnār or ten dirhems.” When one thus commits theft his right hand must be cut off at the wrist; if he commit theft again, his left hand must be cut off; if he commit it a third time, his right foot must be cut off; and if he commit it yet again, he must be put in prison till he repent.’ Then the prince caused the man to receive the due of his crime. After that they brought him who had committed adultery, his case also they exposed, and they gave him the due of his sin conformably to the law.
“The nine days were completed, and the king assembled his vezirs and said, ‘Lo, ye have seen the rule of my three sons, which of them is worthy the throne?’ Quoth the first vezir, ‘O king, thy eldest son is worthy,’ Quoth the second vezir, ‘Thy middle son is worthy,’ Quoth the third vezir, ‘Thy youngest son is worthy,’ When the king heard these words of the vezirs his doubts were not removed; and he said, ‘O vezirs, the words of the three of ye are contrary each to other.’ And forthwith he commanded the people of the country that on the morrow they should all come out to the plain. The next day the whole of the folk were assembled on the plain; then the king rose on his feet and said, ‘O people, do not to-morrow on the resurrection day seize hold of my collar and say, “Thou hast oppressed us,” and so wrest from me my meritorious acts and render me confounded and ashamed. Now be ye kind and look not at my kingship and know that before God most high there is none meaner or more abject than myself.’ And he wept full bitterly. And the rich and poor assembled there wept all of them together.
“Then turning again, the king said, ‘O friends, lo, my time is at hand; do ye absolve me for the hereafter. I have three sons, whichever of them ye wish, him will I seat upon the throne. If he be just, ye will enjoy rest and bless me, and I shall be at rest in the place where I lie; but if he be cruel, ye will not have rest neither shall I have rest.’ The people said, ‘May the king’s life endure full many a year! may God most high be well pleased with our king! We are well pleased with our king; whatever we may have against our king, let him be absolved. We are pleased with whichever son he see worthy the throne; but since the king has given the choice into our hands, let him seat his youngest son upon the throne. He[370] is wise as well as learned and skilled in the affairs of the world; if the king see fit, the wise is worthy the seat of honor, as this has come down in the traditions, “A wise youth taketh precedence of a foolish elder.” For the rest, the king knows.’
“Then the king went to the palace and ordered that they adorned the throne, and the grandees of the state came, and all were present. Then he took his youngest son by the hand and made to seat him on the throne, when his brothers came forward and said, ‘O father, all the folk say that he is accomplished and wise and that he knows well the law and the government; now we have some questions to ask of him, which if he answer, we also will contentedly resign to him the throne and stand in his presence with folded hands;[11] but if not, the crown and throne indeed become him not.’
“The king said to his youngest son, ‘What sayest thou?’ He replied, ‘Whatsoever their questions be, let them ask them.’ They said, ‘What is meant by Sultan?’ He answered, ‘By Sultan is meant one who has certificate and warrant, that we obey the command and ordinance of God most high: the Sultan is the shadow of God on the earth.’ And they asked, ‘To whom is it worthy to be king by birth?’ He answered, ‘First the king’s lineage must be manifest, then his descent must be perfect, then he must observe the habits of the just monarchs. They said, ‘Who is just?’ He answered, ‘The just is he who transgresses not the law.’ They said, ‘Who is unjust?’ He replied, ‘He who rather than obey the law, brings in innovations of his own, so that it may be easy to amass wealth with oppression.’ They said, ‘What manner of persons should kings appoint vezirs?’
“He answered, ‘They should appoint those persons in whom are two characteristics, the first of which is that they be endowed with prudence and resource, and the second that they be wise and accomplished; for learning in a man is a second understanding.’ They said, ‘How many sorts of people are needful to kings?’ He answered, ‘Four kinds of people; the first, skilful vezirs; the second, valiant warriors; the third, an accomplished scribe who is perfect in Arabic and Persian and the science of writing; and the fourth, a clever physician who[371] is most able in the science of philosophy.’ They said, ‘How many different things ought always to be in the thoughts of a king?’ He answered, ‘Four different things; the first, to do justice to the people; the second, to use aright the money that is in the treasury; the third, to distribute offices properly; and the fourth, to be not negligent concerning enemies.’ They said, ‘How many different traits should the king adopt as his wont?’ He answered, ‘Four; the first is a smiling face; the second, a sweet speech; the third, generosity; and the fourth, mercy to the poor.’ They said, ‘How many kinds of courtiers are needful to the king?’ He answered, ‘Four classes are requisite; first, the wise; second, the learned; third, the valiant champions; and fourth, musicians: from the wise he will learn the law, from the learned he will acquire the sciences, from the valiant champions he will acquire chivalry, and by the musicians will his heart be expanded.’
“They said, ‘Of which class should the king consider himself one?’ He answered, ‘Let him consider himself of the great sheykhs who have reached God, for it will cause him to be just.’ Then he turned to his brothers and said, ‘O my brothers, ye have put these many questions to me and I have answered the whole of them to the best of my power: I too have a question.’ So they said to him, ‘Ask on.’ Quoth he, ‘What do the kings of the world resemble, and what do their agents resemble, and what do the people resemble, and what do the king’s enemies resemble, and what do the sheykhs resemble?’ Then they both bent their heads and pondered. After a time the prince again said, ‘This is no time for pondering; lo, there the question; lo, there the throne.’ Quoth they, ‘We are unequal to this question.’ Then the king took his youngest son by the hand and seated him on the throne and said, ‘O son, may God ever aid thee and may thy foes be overthrown!’ Then all the nobles of the state and the people came and said, ‘May the throne be blessed!’ And they made him king over them.
“Then the king said, ‘O son, do thou answer the question thou puttest to thy brethren, that we may hear.’ Quoth the prince, ‘O my father, this world resembles a pasture, and these people resemble the sheep that wander in that pasture, and the king resembles their shepherd, and the owner of the sheep[372] is God most high, and the nobles resemble that shepherd’s dogs, and the enemy resembles the wolf, and the sheykhs and the wise resemble the guardians appointed by God most high over the shepherd, who forbid the shepherd by the order of God most high whenever he would do evil to the sheep. O father, in very truth I am a feeble shepherd, I see the sheep, and I perceive that even while we say, “Let not them come and hurt the sheep,” we become ourselves partners with the wolf. Should the Owner of the sheep ask us about his lambs, woe, woe to us!’ And he wept full bitterly. The princes acknowledged the sovereignty of their younger brother.
“Then the King took up a handful of dust and put it on his eye and said, ‘O eye, how long a time is it I have been king, and how great wealth have I amassed and brought before thee by this much oppression and justice, and thou wast never satisfied! And with how many beauties have I made merry and enjoyed the best of what they had till thou hast lost all pleasure in taking it! And how many delicacies have I eaten and how many sherbets have I drunk, and thou art not content! Why then didst thou not look to these affairs and see not? True is it what they say, “Naught fills the eye save a handful of dust.” Woe, woe, to us!’ And he wept. And all the nobles assembled there were moved to pity and they wept together. Then the king arose and went to his oratory and gave himself up to devotion.
“After some time the king laid his head upon the pillow of death and felt that his life had touched its end, and he said, ‘Do now before my eyes that which ye should do when I am dead, that I may see it.’ Then they laid the king upon his throne in the palace. And they scattered sifted dust below the castle and cut up strips of damask and strewed them with dust. And all the slave girls put on black and dishevelled their hair and scattered dust upon their heads and began to weep together, crying, ‘Alas! woe! alas!’ so that hearts were rent. Then came the vezirs, who likewise fell to weeping together and exclaiming, ‘Shall a king so just as this be found?’ After that they ordered that they brought a coffin with great reverence; then the three princes, when they saw the coffin, wept blood in place of tears and cried, ‘This is the horse our father rideth now!’ And they adorned it with jewels[373] and placed upon it a jewel-set crown and held over it the royal parasol.
“Then four great lords came and took hold of the frame of the coffin and bare it away. And before the coffin went the sheykhs singing chants and hymns. And the devotees held copies of the sacred volume before them; and great nobles and nobles’ sons marched in front. Before them were a hundred sweet-voiced dirge singers who wept and cried, ‘Ah! woe! alas!’ And from one side they scattered gold and silver and jewels on the coffin; and there were some 10,000 horsemen with golden saddles and broken stirrups and snapped bows. And behind these was an array of slave girls, all clad in black, whose wails and cries rose to the heavens.
“When the king saw those things he sighed and ordered that they took him down from the throne; and he turned and said, ‘While yet alive I have seen my death.’ And he took a handful of earth and threw it on his head and said, ‘Earth, though this long sovereignty has been mine, I have done no righteous deed which will endure.’ And again, ‘O vezirs, I would that ye endow for me.’ Thereupon the vezirs wrote what amounted to 10,000 aspres a day; and they founded free kitchens and colleges, and they settled the revenues of certain towns and villages on the free kitchens. When the business of the endowments was finished, they brought the sections of the Koran, and to each section reader they gave five sequins; and to each of the devotees and dervishes they gave 500 sequins.[12] Then they brought the food, and all the plates were of gold or silver; and to all before whom they placed a dish they said, ‘Thine be food and plate.’ When the banquet too was finished they freed all the male and female slaves; and three days later the king departed for the Abiding Home.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may, like that sovereign, inquire, and act conformably to the words of the vezirs and the people, and in compliance with the command of the law, that he be not a prey in the world to remorse and in the hereafter to torment.” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince. When the king[374] heard of these wondrous events from the vezir, he perceived how the world had no stability and he sighed and sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening he returned and came to the palace, and went in to the lady who rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady began to speak about the youth and asked concerning him. Quoth the king, “I have again sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “This matter which has happened is no light matter, but thou art negligent and wouldst act upon everyone’s word; and they have said that the negligent person is not exempt from one of three conditions; either he is a fool, or he is ignorant, or fortune has turned its face from him. O king, the negligent does no perfect deed; be not negligent, for to be negligent in this affair is madness. O king, this thy story resembles that of another king, upon whom five times fell the enemy by reason of his negligence; but mayhap my king has not heard that story.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was of old time a king, and he had an enemy greater than himself. One day that hostile king assembled a mighty host and came against that weak king. The latter, having no other resource, assembled all his army and went forth to meet him. Although he much besought that strong king and said, ‘War is not a good thing, come, consent not to this calamity, make not thyself guilty of the blood of so many Moslems;’ and mentioned how the holy Apostle hath said, ‘If two Moslems fight against each other with swords or other implements of war, and one kill the other, both the killer and the killed shall enter hell;’ and made many and many an excuse, it was in vain.
“When the king saw that all his entreaty was of no avail with the enemy, he perceived that it was necessary to find some plan to avert this evil. Now the king had three skilful vezirs, these he summoned to give counsel. He said, ‘O my vezirs, what is your advice in this matter?’ The chief vezir came forward and said, ‘My king, in the present circumstances the military might of our enemy is great; most assuredly are we[375] unable to oppose him. Now the best way were this, that we put off the battle and return to our country; he will certainly come after us, but we will enter into a strong castle and rest there till that time when fortune will surely turn toward us likewise; thus are the affairs of the world, now gladness, now woe.’ He likewise asked the second vezir, ‘What is thy advice, let us see?’ So he said, ‘O my king, all that the first vezir has said is wise; but it is never allowable to show weakness before the enemy, for inasmuch as thou displayest weakness will he become strong; so if now thou shun battle and flee, thou wilt be giving him opportunity. Wise is he who, although the enemy appear overwhelming, fears not death and gives the foe no answer but the sword.’
“Then, said the king to the third vezir, ‘What is thine advice in this matter?’ The vezir answered, ‘O king, manliness is of ten parts, nine of which are stratagem and one of which is strength; and by stratagem is the affair of enemies ever finished, for they have said that the affair which one stratagem finishes 100,000 soldiers cannot finish. If the king will be guided by this humble one, to-night of a sudden we will attack the enemy and fall upon his camp, and, if it please God most high, we will cut off the heads of many of them.’ The king approved this stratagem of the vezir, so when it was midnight and the enemy was negligent they fell upon his camp from every side, and slaughtered the foes till morning, and their king fled to his own country.
“So was this weak king victorious, and he returned to his own land. But that fugitive king went to his country and assembled an army, and again marched against this king. Then the weak king, having no other resource, went forth to meet him, and they pitched opposite each other.
“The weak king said to his vezirs, ‘What is your advice this time, let us see?’ Then quoth the third vezir, ‘O king, we shall again finish our affair by stratagem.’ Said the king, ‘What stratagem shall we use? they will be very watchful this night.’ The vezir replied, ‘Stratagem is not one; let them keep watch till morning, we shall this time employ another stratagem.’ Quoth the king, ‘Speak on, let us see.’ The vezir said, ‘We will hide in ambush 2,000 strong impetuous youths; and as soon as it is morning we will go out against the enemy[376] and fight a little, then we will appear to flee, and they shall follow after, thinking to fall upon us; and when the foremost of the host reaches us we will turn and fight with them and cut them down. Thereupon our soldiers who are in ambush will rush into the field and take the hostile army in the centre; and, if it please God most high, we will strike hard with our swords and seize their leaders, and take their flags, and tear in pieces their ensigns; and in this way will we overcome the foe.’ The king liked this plan of the vezir, and by this stratagem they sabred the foe and were again victorious. And the king returned smiling to his country.
“The other strong king in the greatness of his wrath cried out, ‘What means this that thus weak a king routs my army and puts me to flight on this wise! God most high gives victory to whom he will!’ Then he assembled an army of which he, himself, knew not the number, and went against that poor weak king. They gave the king word, and he, having no other resource, went forth again, and they pitched opposite each other. Again the weak king questioned his vezirs. Then the third vezir said, ‘O my king, our affair is finished by stratagem.’ Quoth the king, ‘What stratagem shall we employ?’ The vezir said, ‘O king, let us send an adroit headsman, who will go and by some stratagem kill him; and when the head goes the foot is not steady.’
“The king approved the vezir’s words, and sent a headsman with a dagger, who went and somehow made shift to smite that strong king that he well-nigh slew him, and then took flight. But while he was fleeing they caught him and hewed him in pieces. When they saw their king that he had reached the bounds of death, they said, ‘There is no fighting in such plight;’ and they fled, bearing their king. They came to their country and appointed a physician, and after some days the wound got better. And that king again assembled a host and came against the poor weak king. The latter, having no other resource, went forth to meet him and again sought counsel of his vezirs. The third vezir said, ‘O my king, our affair is finished by stratagem.’ The king asked, ‘What stratagem wilt thou employ this time?’ The vezir said, ‘This time let us send an ambassador and offer some money and some slave girls and say, “We submit to thee.” And we will give poison[377] to one of the slave girls we send, and tell her to give it to the king to eat when she finds an opportunity; and in this way will we gain the victory over him.’
“The king deemed the vezir’s words good, and by that stratagem they poisoned that king. And this king mounted and attacked his army, and, as when the head goes the foot is not steady, it was beaten. They took their king, and, after a thousand stratagems, conveyed him to a castle and tended him, and at length he recovered. Again he assembled an army, and again they went against that weak king. So the latter, having no other resource, again went forth to meet him. He summoned his vezirs and asked advice. Again the third vezir said, ‘O king, our affair is finished by stratagem.’ Quoth the king, ‘Give advice.’ The vezir said. ‘O king, this time he comes with great caution, and has posted men on the roads and at the stations who seize on everyone who passes. If the king deem good, we will write a letter and address it to his vezirs and great nobles, and it shall be on this wise:
“’“After greeting: Be it not concealed that your letter has come and all that you say is understood. Long life and health to you! We indeed hoped it from you. Now let me see you. Display manliness and valor. Seize him on the road and bring him to me, and that country shall be yours; such and such a place to so and so, and such and such a district to so and so.” Then we will seal it, and split a staff and put it therein, and give it to a man and send him to them. They will find the staff and take it to the king, who will undoubtedly read it, and look upon those vezirs and nobles as traitors, and murmurings will arise among them and they will split into parties. And by this stratagem we will again find relief.’
“The king did so. And in that way they brought the letter to that king, and as soon as he had read it, fear for his life fell upon him. Then he turned back and went to his country and seized those vezirs and nobles and slew them. At length all the nobles turned from him and wrote a letter and sent it to this king, and it was thus: ‘For the love of God come against this tyrant, and we will aid thee.’ When the king had read the letter he assembled an army and went to that[378] country, and on the battle day all the nobles came and submitted to him, and they seized the other king and surrendered him. So he took that country through stratagem; and because that strong king was negligent he lost his country and his head, for they slew him.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that my king may know and not be negligent, and lose not life and kingdom through the stratagem of that unworthy youth.” When the king heard this story from the lady he was wroth, and said, “To-morrow will I slay him.”
When it was morning and the sun showed his face from behind the castle of Qāf,[13] and illumined the world with light, the king came and sat upon his throne, and commanded the executioner that he bring the youth and he gave the word, “Smite off his head.” Then the fourth vezir came forward and said, “O my king, it is not seemly in kings to hasten in all things with precipitancy; above all the spilling of blood unjustly is deemed by the wise most blameworthy and hateful. They have declared that the trials of a king are four: one is haste; another, trusting to wrong; another, considering not the end of matters; and another, negligence. Haste is that which disappoints those who seek good and profit for themselves; wrong is that which brings about wars and uses armies unjustly and does evil things; considering not the end of matters is that which employs hurry instead of deliberation; and negligence is that which inclines to music, and lust, and taking counsel of women. And they have said, ‘Let one take counsel of a woman and do the opposite of what she says;’ even as spake the holy Apostle (peace on him!) ‘Consult them and do clear contrary.’[14]
“In compliance with this tradition the king must not obey the woman’s word; and through the words of women have many men suffered remorse and fallen under the wrath of God. And the story of Balaam, the son of Beor,[15] is a strange story; if the king grant leave, I will relate it.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:[379]
“One day Moses (peace on him!) went against a tribe, and they were of the people of ‘Ad, and they called their chief Og, the son of Anak.[16] One day Moses (peace on him!) by command of God summoned these to the faith, and resolved to fight and war with them if they were not obedient. So Moses (peace on him!) assembled four hundred and four-score thousand men and proceeded against the ‘Adīs. When they were come near the ‘Adīs, he sent twelve men as ambassadors to that tribe. Now Og had gone out to look about, and he saw the twelve men coming, so he put the whole of them into his sack and slung it over his shoulder and turned back and went away. He brought them to his tribe the ‘Adīs and said, ‘See the host of the Messenger Moses which is come seeking to make war with us;’ and he held the mouth of the sack downward and the twelve men rolled out.
“And that tribe saw them that they were small of stature, for their own stature was twice that of these. And they all made mock of them and laughed at them; but they killed them not, but sent them back. They returned and told these things to Saint Moses, and fear fell upon all the host. Then Saint Moses (peace on him!) took his rod in his hand and went against that tribe of ‘Ad. Og the son of Anak saw that Moses (peace on him!) was himself coming, and straightway he went and pulled up a rock like a mountain and put it on his head, and went that he might cast it upon the host of Moses (peace on him!). But God most high commanded an angel that he went in the likeness of a bird and smote that rock with his beak and clave it, and thereupon it passed like a circle of cursers down before the face of Og. And straightway Saint Moses came up, and his stature grew to forty cubits, and his rod to forty cubits, and he leaped up forty cubits, and smote Og on the heel with his rod; and God most high slew Og.
“Then Saint Moses (peace on him!) returned to his people and gave them tidings of Og being slain; and they were all glad. Then Saint Moses passed thence and made for the country of Sheykh Balaam, the son of Beor. When he was[380] come nigh, they brought word to the sheykh that Saint Moses was coming against him with many warriors. Whereupon the sheykh’s disciples said, ‘O sheykh, if that host come into our land, it will lay waste all our land; thou must find some help for this.’ Then were they silent. The sheykh said, ‘What should we do?’ They answered, ‘Curse him.’ The sheykh said, ‘He is a Messenger; I cannot curse him.’ And howsoever much they urged the sheykh, it was in vain. Now the sheykh had a cunning brawling wife; her they besought, saying, ‘Speak to the sheykh, and we will give thee much money,’ The woman answered, ‘I will manage it.’ When the sheykh came to his house he desired to take counsel of his wife; she said, ‘Curse him.’ The sheykh replied, ‘He is a Messenger; how can I curse him?’
“The woman persisted so that the sheykh was constrained to lift up his hands and curse him. His curse was heard; and Saint Moses, who was fourteen leagues distant, remained for forty years in the wilderness; even as God most high saith in his Word, ‘For forty years shall they wander about in the earth,’[17] Then Saint Moses knew that there was some reason for this, and he prayed and humbled himself before God most high, and said, ‘My God, send him who is the cause of our thus wandering, from the world to the hereafter without the faith.’ His prayer was accepted at the court of God, and that sheykh went from the world to the hereafter without the faith by reason of a woman; even as God most high hath said, ‘And his likeness was as the likeness of a dog.’[18]
“Now, O King, I have told this story for that these many men have been cast forth from the court of God for following the words of women. Then is it incumbent on the king that he judge accordingly, so that he become not a prey to remorse; for too late repentance profits not. Beware and beware, slay not the prince on the woman’s word.” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince for that day. When the king heard this story from the vezir, he sent the prince to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast[381] the lady again began to speak about the youth, and the king said, “This day too my vezirs would not let me be, so I have sent him to the prison.” Quoth the lady, “I know all the plot of those vezirs, day by day each of them plans some trick or wile; they purpose to discredit me with thee, so they say that women are lacking in understanding, and that by reason thereof they are plotters and liars. These words of theirs are false, do not assail the truth; for these see me, that my trust in my king is strong. Yet I am aware of their case and their hurtful deeds; and for that I would defend my king from their craft and malice, are they enemies to me. An thou desire, my king, I shall say no more; and they may do whatsoever they will. But all these are of single tongue and single aim, and I fear they will bring some calamity upon thee and some evil upon me; and afterward thou shalt repent, but it will avail not.
“My king, thou hast assembled some men of low birth and made them vezirs and confided all thy affairs to them, and thou thinkest them honest; Heaven forefend they should be honest when some of them are the sons of cooks, and some of bakers, and some of butchers; it is even as when Khizr[19] (peace on him!) showed another king the origin of his vezirs, but mayhap my king has not heard that story.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was in the palace of the world a king who was very desirous of seeing Khizr (peace on him!); and he would ever say, ‘If there be anyone who will show me Khizr, I will give him whatsoever he may wish.’ Now there was at that time a man poor of estate; and from the greatness of his poverty he said in himself, ‘Let me go and bespeak the king that if he provide for me during three years I will show him Khizr; by three years either I shall be dead or the king will be dead, or he will forgive me my fault, or I shall on somewise win to escape: and in this way shall I make merry for a time.’ So he went to the king and spake those words to[382] him. The king said, ‘An thou show him not then, I will kill thee;’ and that poor man consented.
“Then the king let give him much wealth and money, and the poor man took that wealth and money and went to his house. Three years he spent in merriment and delight, and he rested at ease till the term was accomplished. At the end of the time he fled and hid himself in a trackless place, and he began to quake for fear. Of a sudden he saw a personage with white raiment and shining face who saluted him. The poor man returned the salutation, and the radiant being asked, ‘Why art thou thus sad?’ but he gave no answer. Again the radiant being asked him and sware to him, saying, ‘Do indeed tell to me thy plight that I may find thee some remedy.’ So that hapless one narrated his story from its beginning to its end; and the radiant being said, ‘Come, I will go with thee to the king and I will answer for thee;’ so they arose.
“Now the king wanted that hapless one; and, while they were going, some of the king’s officers who were seeking met them, and they straightway seized the poor man and brought him to the king. Quoth the king, ‘Lo, the three years are accomplished; come now show me Khizr.’ That poor man said, ‘My king, grace and bounty are the work of kings; forgive my sin.’ Quoth the king, ‘I made a pact; till I have killed thee I shall not have fulfilled it!’ And he looked to his chief vezir and said, ‘How should this be done?’ Quoth the vezir, ‘This man should be hewn in many pieces, and these hung up on butcher’s hooks, that others may see and lie not before the king.’ Said that radiant being, ‘True spake the vezir; all things return to their origin.’ Then the king looked to the second vezir and said, ‘What sayest thou?’ He replied, ‘This man should be boiled in a caldron.’ Said that radiant being, ‘True spake the vezir; all things return to their origin.’ The king looked to the third vezir and said, ‘What sayest thou?’ The vezir replied, ‘This man should be hewn in small pieces and baked in an oven.’ Again said that elder, ‘True spake the vezir; all things return to their origin.’
“Then quoth the king to the fourth vezir, ‘Let us see, what sayest thou?’ The vezir replied, ‘O king, the wealth thou gavest this poor creature was for the love of Khizr (peace on him!). He, thinking to find him, accepted it; now that[383] he has not found him he seeks pardon; this were befitting, that thou set free this poor creature for the love of Khizr.’ Said that elder, ‘True spake the vezir; all things return to their origin.’ Then the king said to the elder, ‘O elder, all my vezirs have said different things, contrary the one to the other, and thou hast said concerning each of them, “True spake the vezir; all things return to their origin.’ What is the reason thereof?’ That elder replied, ‘O king, thy first vezir is a butcher’s son, therefore did he draw to his origin; thy second vezir is a cook’s son, he likewise proposed a punishment as became his origin; thy third vezir is a baker’s son, he likewise proposed a punishment as became his origin; but thy fourth vezir is of gentle birth, compassion therefore becomes his origin; so he had compassion on that hapless one and sought to do good and counselled liberation. O king, all things draw to their origin.’[20]
“And he gave the king much counsel and at last said, ‘Lo, I am Khizr!’ and vanished. Then the king went forth from his palace, but could see no sign or trace of that radiant elder; and he said, ‘I much longed to see Khizr (peace on him!); praise be to God, I have attained thereto, and he has told me the origin of my vezirs.’ And he commanded that they gave that poor man much wealth.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that thy vezirs are of low origin, and that fidelity will not proceed from them. In this matter too their words tally with their origin; lose not the opportunity, for to spare an enemy is great folly.” The king heard this story from the lady, and said, “To-morrow will I roll up the scroll of his life.”
When it was morning and the world, like to him who had won to Khizr, was illumined with light, the king sat upon his throne and commanded the executioner that he bring the youth, and he gave the word, “Smite off his head.” Thereupon the fifth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, slay not the prince thus hastily, and cast not to the winds the counsels of these many vezirs; for as they take pearls from the sea and string them, so do these string their[384] words; they are speakers such that Mercury in the sky could not match their suggestions. O king, the reason of that which thy vezirs have said to thee is this, that the Apostle (peace on him!) hath said that whoso seeth his king do an act contrary to the law, and hindereth him not therefrom, hath departed from the Canon. Now, O king, deem not the words of thy vezirs mistaken; it is even as they have said, ‘Let him who would see Khizr in the flesh, look upon a wise, accomplished and learned vezir.’ And again, ‘If one seek to do a righteous deed, let him arrange the affair of some poor creature with a king.’ Mayhap the king has not heard the story of Khizr and a vezir.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“There was, of old time, a king who had an experienced vezir; and Khizr (peace on him!) would ever come to that vezir. One day the vezir looked upon the affairs of the world, how they abode not with anyone; and he withdrew from the vezirship, and chose the corner of retirement, and gave himself up to worship. A long time passed, and Khizr (peace on him!) never once came to him. The vezir marvelled and said, ‘Why does not Khizr (peace on him!) come to me? Now ought he to come every day.’ Then he said, ‘There must indeed be some reason for this.’ Thereupon he saw that Khizr had appeared, and he said, ‘O Khizr, while I was vezir thou didst ever come to me, is it for that I have withdrawn from the world that thou comest not now?’ Khizr (peace on him!) replied, ‘O vezir, outwardly thou didst perform the duties of vezir, inwardly I did; therefore was there a bond between us; now thou hast withdrawn therefrom, and that bond is gone from between us, so I come not to thee.’ When the vezir heard these words from Khizr, he went and asked back the vezirship, and he received it, and Khizr (peace on him!) came to him as before and ceased not.
“O king, I have told this story for that the king may hearken to the vezir’s words and follow them, and pass his life in happiness. Beware, O king, be not overhasty in this affair, that afterward thou suffer not remorse.” When the king heard this story from the vezir, he sent the prince to the prison[385] and went himself to the chase, and that day he took much game.
In the evening he came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady asked about the youth; the king said, “This day again such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him, and I sent him to the prison.” Quoth the lady, “O my king, how good were it, could he be reformed by such conduct; but this youth is incapable of reform; for he resembles that snake which first stings his mother as she bears him and kills her, and then stings his father and kills him. God most high will take vengeance on him; and his eyes will be blinded as though he had looked upon an emerald.[21] If a drop of an April shower fall upon a snake it becomes poison, but if it fall into an oyster it becomes a pearl;[22] and if the Koran, great of glory, fall upon a believer’s heart, it is faith and knowledge. And it is notorious that whoever nurses a snake falls at last a prey to its poison. A certain man formed a friendship with a snake and used every day to bring it a portion of food. He went to the snake’s hole and laid it there, and the snake would put its head out of its hole and eat that food, and when it was satisfied it would frolic about, and that man would play with it. One day he came and saw that the snake was out of its place and quite stiff from cold; ‘O poor thing,’ he said, and took and put it in his bosom. When the snake got warm it at once raised its head and stung that unhappy man, and killed him, and fled and entered its hole. And thus have they said, that if one foster a swine, that brute will not leave off till in the end it hurt him. It is even as the story of that sherbet-seller and the Moor.” Said the king, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was of old time in a great city a sherbet-seller, and he had a son, a loveling of the age, who was so fair that he seemed a second Joseph;[23] and he used to sell sherbet in the shop. The folk would come to gaze upon this youth’s beauty,[386] and they would give a sequin for each cup of sherbet, and drain it; and whenever they drank a cup they would say it was the water of life. Now one day a swarthy Moor came to that country; and as soon as he saw the youth, the hapless Moor’s power of speech left him, and he could not stir one step from where he stood, but leaned against the opposite wall bewildered. After a time he recovered his understanding, and, rising and falling like one drunk, he came up as best he could to the youth, and gave a sequin and drank a cup of sherbet, and went away. For a time he came every day and drank cups of sherbet at a sequin each, and looked on the beauty of the youth.
“One day the youth told this thing to his father, and his father perceived that the Moor was ravished with the boy, and said, ‘O my son, bring that Moor to the house to-morrow, and let us see what manner of man he is.’ The next day when the Moor came to the youth, he invited him to his house, and took him and went to his father. After they had eaten, the father of the boy asked of the Moor’s case and dwelling. The Moor saw what his intention was, and answered, ‘I have no dwelling, I am a stranger.’ The boy’s father said, ‘Thou art a stranger; we will give thee a dwelling, stay with us.’ The Moor was glad and counted it a boon to his soul; even as they have said, ‘The loved one’s ward is paradise.’ So they showed the Moor a dwelling. He abode for some days, and gradually his love for the boy increased; and one day he showed him a precious stone, and said, ‘An thou let me take one kiss of thee, I will give thee this stone.’ With a thousand graces the boy consented, and the Moor gave him the stone and kissed him, and said, ‘My life, my master, I love thee from heart and soul, flee me not; I know a talisman which will open before thee; if thou wilt come with me I will open it, and give thee so much gold that thou shalt never again know poverty.’
“The youth told this thing to his father, and his father gave him leave; so the Moor took him, and they went without the city; and he brought him to a ruin. Now there was a well there, full to the mouth with water; and the Moor wrote on a piece of paper and laid it on the well, and thereupon all the water vanished from the well. The Moor and the boy de[387]scended to the bottom of the well, and saw a locked door. The Moor wrote a charm and fastened it on the lock, and it opened forthwith. They went in and saw a negro holding in one hand a great stone to throw upon anyone who entered. The Moor repeated a charm and blew upon the negro, and the negro laid the stone that was in his hand upon the ground, and let them pass. They went on and saw a dome of crystal, and at the door of the domed building were two dragons, who stood facing one the other with open mouths like caverns. When they came near, these flew at them, but the Moor repeated a charm and blew on them, and they vanished.
“Then the door of the domed building opened and they went in, and they saw that in one corner thereof was gold, in another corner silver, in another corner all manner of jewels, and in another corner was raised a throne upon black earth, and on that throne was a coffin, and in that coffin lay a renowned man dead. Upon his breast was a gold tablet, and on that tablet was written: ‘I was a king, and I ruled the whole earth, and whithersoever I went in this world I conquered. I had many many champions and great wealth and treasure. Some little of the wealth I owned I gathered here. Me too death spared not; but made me even as though I had not come into the world. Now, O thou who seest me in this plight, take warning by me, and remember my soul in prayer, and be not presumptuous through the wealth of this world for a few days’ life.’ And that was all. Then the Moor and the youth took as much as they desired of the gold and silver and precious stones and black earth, which was the philosopher’s stone, and went out. The Moor repeated a charm and blew upon the well, and it was again all full of water; and he went back with the boy to their house, and they gave themselves up to mirth and merriment. Day and night they ceased not therefrom an instant.
“One day the boy asked the Moor to teach him the charms he had repeated in the talisman. The Moor consented, and instructed him for many days and taught him. One day, of a sudden, the boy said to his father, ‘O father, I have learned the whole of the charms for the talisman, so we have no longer any need of the Moor; let us poison him.’ But his father consented not, and said, ‘Let us turn him away; let him go else[388]whither.’ Quoth the youth, ‘The turning away of him would not do; he is a great master, he might do us an injury, so let us poison him ere he play us some trick; and I will take as much gold and silver as is needful from that buried treasure.’ The Moor heard him and knew that fairness purposed foulness, and he straightway disappeared from there.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that no good has ever happened to anyone from youths. Yea, O king, be not negligent, kill the youth, else the affair will end in evil.” When the king heard this story from the lady he was wroth and said, “On the morrow will I slay him.”
When it was morning the king sat upon his throne and caused the youth to be brought, and commanded the executioner, “Smite off his head.” The sixth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, beware, act not on anyone’s word till the crime be proved against the prince; for the resurrection is at hand, and lying and cunning and craft abound. The wise man is he who turns off sin and evil that he may not afterward begin to bite upon the finger with regret and remorse and be repentant, and who takes the woful by the hand and gives happiness to the unhappy, and who repulses not him who comes to his door, but sees his needs and provides for him, and who never lets himself be deceived by a woman’s word; for these laugh in one’s face. Mayhap my king has not heard the story of the tailor youth and the woman.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Thus relate they: In the time of Saint Jesus (peace on him!) there was a tailor youth who had a fair wife, and they greatly loved one another. One day they made a pact that if the woman died first, her husband should take no other wife, but throw his arms round her tombstone, and weep till morning; and if the youth died first, the woman should do likewise. By the decree of God the woman died. After the tailor had wept and lamented he buried her, and fulfilled his pact, and threw his arms round his wife’s tombstone and wept. And he constantly kept watch over the grave. One day Jesus (peace on him!) when passing by that place, saw a youth[389] weeping and embracing a tombstone, and he went up to him and asked why he wept. The youth related all.
“Then Jesus (peace on him!) prayed, and the woman became alive, and came forth from the grave in her shroud. And Jesus (peace on him!) proceeded on his way. The youth said, ‘One cannot go thus in a shroud; wait thou here a moment till I go and fetch clothes from the house; then thou shalt put on these clothes, and we will go together.’ And he went quickly to the house, leaving the woman there. Suddenly the son of the king of that country passed that spot, and saw a fair woman sitting wrapped in a shroud. As soon as the prince saw that woman he fell in love with her from heart and soul, and he said to her, ‘Who art thou?’ She answered, ‘I am a stranger; a robber has stripped me.’ Thereupon the prince ordered his servants to take the woman to the palace, and clothe her in clean garments.
“When the youth returned with the clothes he found not the woman there, and he cried and asked of the passers-by. No one had seen her. The poor man, asking and asking, met the prince’s servants. These asked the tailor why he wept. He replied, ‘For a time my wife was dead; but now, praise be to God, she is become alive through the prayer of the messenger Jesus; I went to fetch her clothes, but she has disappeared: therefore do I weep.’ They answered, ‘The prince sent that lady to the palace this day.’ Thereupon the tailor went before the prince and complained, saying, ‘The woman thou hast taken is my wife.’ The prince asked the lady, she denied and said, ‘This is the robber who stripped me of my clothes and made off; praise be to God, if thou kill him now, thou shalt gain great reward.’ The prince commanded that they bound both the tailor’s hands behind his back. Although the poor tailor cried aloud, it was no avail; they put a rope round his neck and led him to the gallows.
“Then they perceived Saint Jesus on the road, and they waited. When he came near he asked of their case, and they told him. Then he bade them stop and went himself to the prince; they called the woman, and he said, ‘This woman is the wife of yonder youth; I prayed and she became alive.’ When the woman saw the messenger she was unable to deny, but spake the truth. Jesus (peace on him!) prayed again,[390] and that woman died; and the youth was rescued from the abyss whereinto he had fallen, and he repented of his having wept so long a time.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that the inclinations of women are ever to works of evil, craft, and wickedness.” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince’s life. When the king heard this story from the vezir he sent the prince to the prison, and went himself to the chase.
In the evening he returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady fell to speaking about the youth. The king said, “To-day such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him, so I have again sent him to the prison.” Quoth the lady, “O king, thou dost not believe my words; but at length, in the near future, some hurt will befall thee from the youth; for this night I saw a vision, which it is, as it were, a duty on me to tell my king, and incumbent on thee to hear.” Said the king, “Tell on, let us hear.” The lady said, “This night thou wast holding in thy hand a golden ball, and that ball was adorned and set round with rubies and jewels, and its brilliancy lit up the world; and thou wast playing, throwing up the ball and catching it in thy hand. And this youth was sitting by thy side watching, and ever and anon he asked for the ball, but thou gavest him it not.
“Of a sudden, while thou wast heedless, he snatched the ball, and for that thou hadst not given it him when he had asked was he angry, and he struck the ball upon a stone, so that it was shattered in pieces. And I was grieved, and I went and picked up the fragments of the ball, and gave them into thy hand, and thou didst look upon those fragments and didst marvel, and with that I awoke.” Quoth the king, “What may the interpretation of this vision be?” The lady said, “I interpreted this dream: that ball is thy kingdom; and this youth’s snatching it from thy hand is this, that this youth came to me and said, ‘I wish to kill my father and sit upon the throne, and I desire to make thee my wife; and all the men of the kingdom have turned to me, and now the kingdom is wholly mine, do thou likewise submit to me?’ Had I submitted to him, ere now he had killed thee and accomplished[391] his affair. Ah! the fortune and auspiciousness of my king averted it. And his striking the ball upon the stone is this, that if he had become king after thee, he would have utterly ruined the kingdom. And my going and picking up the fragments and giving them to the king is this, that for that I obeyed not the youth, but came and told the king, he seized him, and the kingdom remained in his hand. But had not I done so, know of a surety that ere now the kingdom would have passed from thy hand; yea, thy life, too, would have gone. That is the interpretation of the dream. O king, the story of this degenerate youth resembles that of a certain king’s son; mayhap my king has not heard it.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“In the palace of the world there was a king in whose country was a robber, such that none could escape from his hands. And in that king’s country was a great khoja. That khoja and his wife were travelling with some money, when of a sudden, while they were on the road they met that robber. He forthwith stripped them and made them naked and took them captives. He put their clothes in the cave which he had chosen for his dwelling, and bound both the khoja’s hands behind his back and laid him in a corner; and then he gave himself up to mirth and merriment with the woman. After seven or eight months the robber released the khoja and his wife. So these went forth from the cave, and saying, ‘There is nor strength nor power save in God, the high, the mighty,’ they set their faces in a certain direction, and fared on till one day they entered a city. And they took a dwelling in that city and settled there.
“When the woman’s time was come she gave birth to a boy; but as they knew that the boy was the robber’s, they would not accept him, and they laid him at the door of the mosque. The king of that country happened to pass by and asked concerning him, and the people who were present answered that his parents had no means of bringing him up and so had left him there. Now the king had no son, and he took pity on this child and adopted him and made him his son, and[392] said, ‘If God give him life and he die not, he shall sit on the throne after me and be king.’ So they took the boy and brought him to the palace, and appointed him a nurse, and made him clothes of all manner of stuffs. Day by day he grew, and when he had reached his seventh year he was a moon-faced boy, such that he who looked upon his countenance desired to look thereon again.
“And the king appointed a teacher and a governor for the boy, and he learned science and good conduct. When he had reached his twelfth year he had acquired sciences and accomplishments. After that, they instructed him in horsemanship; that too he acquired in a few days. And every day he would go into the square and take a ball and play; and all the world marvelled at his beauty and dexterity, and the king felt delight as often as he looked upon him. Now the king had also a daughter peerless in beauty. In the course of a few years this girl grew up and reached the age of puberty, and the boy fell in love with her. He would brood over this, saying, ‘Alas! would she were not my sister, that I might marry her.’ Now the boy was a valiant youth, such that the king’s emirs and vezirs applauded his valor; and he overcame the king’s enemies who were round about, and made them subject to his father; and no one could stand before his sword. The king had betrothed his daughter to another king’s son, and when the time was come they wished to take the girl from the king.
“And the king commanded that they should make ready; and thereupon the youth, to make clear what was in his heart, asked a legist this question, ‘If a person have a garden and the fruit of that garden ripen, should that person eat it or another?’ The legist replied, ‘It were better that person should eat it than another.’ Now the prince had a learned companion, and that companion knew the prince’s desire; for science is of three kinds: one the science of the faith, another the science of physiognomy, and another the science of the body; but unless there be the science of physiognomy, other science avails not. Straightway that companion said, ‘O prince, if there be in that garden you ask of, a fruit forbidden by God most high, it were better that the owner eat it not; but if God most high have not forbidden it, then is it lawful for that person to eat it.’ Quoth the prince, ‘Thou knowest[393] not as much as a legist; yon man is a legist; I look to his decision.’ And he arose and went to his sister’s palace, and that hour he took his sister and went forth the city, and made for another city.
“Then the slave girls with great crying informed the king, and thereupon the king’s senses forsook him, and he commanded, ‘Let the soldiers forthwith mount their horses and pursue the youth and seize him.’ Straightway the soldiers mounted and went after the youth; and the king said, ‘From the low born fidelity comes not;’ and he repented him of his having taken him to son. The king and the soldiers appeared behind the youth, and the latter sprang into a hiding-place. And while the king and the soldiers were passing he slew the king from that hiding-place; and when the soldiers saw that the king was slain they each one fled in a different direction, and were scattered in confusion. And the youth took the girl and went to a city and took a house therein, and made her his wife; and he adopted the whole of what had been his father’s business, and turned robber.
“Now, O king, I have told this story, for that thou mayst know that the desire of this degenerate youth is to kill his father as that low-born one slew his; the rest the king knows.” When the king heard this strange thing from the lady, he said, “On the morrow will I slay him.”
When it was morning the king went and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and commanded the executioner, “Smite off his head.” Whereupon the seventh vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, first look to the end of every business thou undertakest and then act accordingly; for on the day of battle it is needful, first to think of the way of retreat and then to set to, so that when it is ‘or fate or state,’ one may save his life. They have said, ‘On the day of strife be not far from the nobles: in the chase and the palace go not near them;’ and ‘He is profitable in the councils of a king, who in the day of security looks to the matters of war and the provision of weapons, and stints not money to the troops that these on the day of battle may be lavish with their lives in the king’s cause.’ It is incumbent on the king that he kill those who flee when they see the enemy (and after that the foes); for they resemble those who give[394] up a stronghold to the adversary. And they have said that a good scribe and a man who knows the science of the sword are very needful for a king; for with the pen is wealth collected, and with the sword are countries taken. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of a certain king and a vezir.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“There was in the palace of the world a king and he had two vezirs, one of whom was wise and learned and one of whom was foolish and ignorant. On the king’s taking counsel of them concerning the management of the affairs of the state, the ignorant vezir said, ‘O king, expend not money, give not money to the soldiers and warriors, or if thou give, give little; and let him who will stay, stay; and let him who will not stay, go. When thou hast money on the battle day, many will be soldiers to thee: where the honey is, there surely come the flies.’ His words seemed good to the king, who one day said to the learned vezir, ‘Get me a few men who will be content with little pay.’ On the vezir’s replying, ‘Men without pay are not to be had,’ the king said, ‘I shall have money when anything befalls, and shall find many men.’ Quoth the vezir, ‘So be it, I shall find men for the king who will take no pay and stir not day or night from his gate.’ The king was glad and said, ‘Get them, let us see.’
“The vezir went and found a painter and brought him, and he painted a large room in the palace so that the four walls of that room were covered with pictured figures of men, and he decked all the figures with arms and implements of war, he depicted a mounted and armed host standing rank on rank. When it was completed the vezir called the king, and the king arose and went with him to that wall of pictures, and he showed the king the whole of them. The king looked and said, ‘What are these pictures? why hast thou ranged these here rank on rank?’ The vezir replied, ‘O king, thou desiredst of me men without pay; lo, these youths want no pay; so they will serve the king.’ The king said, ‘There is no life in these; how can they serve?’ The vezir answered, ‘O king, if lifeless pictures will not serve, no more will payless soldiers serve. Fief and[395] pay are as the life of the soldier; when thou givest not a man his fief or pay, it is as though thou tookest away his life; judge if a lifeless man could serve.’
“Again, ‘O king, if a paid army be not needful for thee, these will suffice; but living men require to eat and drink. If they get no pay they will not sacrifice their lives in the cause of the king or face the enemy; but they will hate the king and turn from him and evil will befall the king; but if the king be bountiful they will obey. Thus a noble had a young steward who used to serve him. One day the noble asked the youth his name. He replied, “God on thee, my name is Wittol.” Said the noble, “Can anyone be so called?” The youth answered, “Anyhow it is my nickname, never mind.” So they used to call that youth Wittol so long as he was at that noble’s gate. One day he went from that noble’s gate to another’s. One day that noble in whose service he had been happened to meet him, when he cried out, “Ho, Wittol, how art thou?” The youth replied, “O noble, say not so again, or thou shalt see.” The noble said, “My life, thou didst tell me Wittol was thy name; why art thou now angered?” The youth answered, “Then did I serve thee, and thou bestowedst on me worlds of bounties, so though thou calledst me Wittol, it offended me not; but now I never get a favor from this man that he should call me so.”
“‘Quoth the noble, “He who called thee so just now was I, not he; yet thou wast angered with me.” The youth replied, “God forbid I should be angered with thee; but if to-morrow the other were to hear that word from thee, he too would wish to use it; now was I angered lest he should call me so.”’ Then that vezir laid a dish of honey before the king; as it was night no flies came to it. And the vezir said, ‘They say that where there is honey, thither will the flies surely flock; lo, here is honey, where are the flies?’ Quoth the king, ‘It is night, therefore they come not.’ The vezir said, ‘My king, it is necessary to give soldiers money at the proper time; for bringing out money on the battle day is like bringing out honey at night.’ When the king heard these words from the vezir he was ashamed; but he greatly applauded the vezir, and thenceforth did whatsoever he advised.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst[396] know that attendants and servants are needful for kings, and that masters of device and resource are requisite. Kings should take counsel of their vezirs in such matters that no defect may mar their fortune in the world or the hereafter. Now the prince is thy support and asylum, and all the folk, high and low, ask why he is fettered with the bonds of woe and a prisoner of the dungeon. And slaying the prince were like slaying the vezirs and all the world. Who would sit on the throne after thee that should know our circumstances? All grandees of the empire and lords of the state and noble seyyids would be cast down, and scattered to the winds and ruined. This woman is a woman lacking in religion and understanding; to give ear to and thus countenance those who are so lacking is not worthy our king.” And he kissed the ground and begged for the prince. So the king sent him to the prison.
Having returned from the chase, the king went to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they passed on and sat down. After the repast the lady again asked for news of the youth. The king answered, “To-day too I have sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “Thou art a wise and just king; we will talk together this night and see whether or no by principle, by the law, and by custom, thou dost sin in thus vexing my heart. O king, there are many rights between husband and wife. And they have said that it is better to give a woman a handful of words than a skirtful of money. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of the sparrow and his mate.” The king said, “Relate it, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was in the blessed service of Saint Solomon (peace on him!) a little sparrow whose many tricks and gambols were ever pleasing to Saint Solomon. One day Saint Solomon saw not the sparrow by him, and he commanded the sīmurgh[24] bird to go fetch the sparrow wherever he might find him. For a long time the sparrow had not gone to his mate, and his mate had upbraided him, saying, ‘For this long time thou[397] hast left me and been with Solomon; dost thou love him more than me, or dost thou fear him? tell me.’ The sparrow answered, ‘By God, I would not give thee for the world: I am come but once to earth and shall not come again; I go to Solomon for diversion, I have no dread of him.’ While he was talking with many such vaunts and boasts, the sīmurgh arrived in haste and heard the sparrow bragging and said harshly, ‘Up, let us off; Saint Solomon wants thee.’ Then the sparrow, being beside his mate, plucked up courage and replied, ‘Off, begone, I will not go.’ The sīmurgh said, ‘I will indeed take thee.’ The sparrow answered, ‘Off with thee, get thee hence, or I will seize thee and rend thee in twain.’ Quoth the sīmurgh, ‘Until I take thee with me I will not budge from here.’
“Yet the sparrow heeded not, and the sīmurgh waited a while, but the sparrow would not go. Again said the sīmurgh to the sparrow, ‘O my life, give me an answer.’ Quoth the sparrow, ‘I tell thee begone from here; if thou speak again, my heart will bid me do somewhat else; but no, I will not slay thee. Off, begone, or I will do thee some hurt, and then go to Solomon’s palace and smite it with my foot, and overturn it from its foundations and pull it down about his head; now then, away fool, off, begone the road thou camest. Thou chatterest here and sayest not, “This is the sparrow’s harem; he is ill.”’ And he gave the sīmurgh a kick such that the latter knew not where it touched him, but he flew thence and reported the sparrow’s words to Saint Solomon. Solomon said, ‘When the sparrow spake these words where was he?’ ‘His mate was there,’ answered the sīmurgh. Then quoth Solomon (peace on him!), ‘There is no harm in one thus boasting and bragging in his own house before his wife. Though every stone of this my palace was raised by the toil of these many demons, still wonder not at his saying when beside his wife that he could shatter it with one foot.’ And this was pleasing to Solomon (peace on him!), and when the sparrow came he made him of his boon companions.
“O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that one should thus love his wife and vex not her little heart, so that his wife may have naught against him. And God most high has given thee understanding; weigh my words in[398] the balance of understanding, and try them on the touchstone of the heart; if they stand not the test, I shall speak no more. I tell thee that this youth has stretched forth his hand to me and has been treacherous, and has moreover purposed against thy life; can there be greater crimes than these? O king, beware, be not negligent in this matter; for there is fear and danger for thy life and kingdom.” When the king heard these beguiling words of the lady he said, “On the morrow will I make an end of his affair.”
When it was morning the king sat upon his throne and commanded the executioner that he bring the youth, and he said, “Smite off his head.” Whereupon the eighth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, slay not the prince on the woman’s word. One should be forgiving; above all, as no man is exempt from sin; for they have said that humanity is composed of forgetfulness. A man falls sometimes through the intrigues of an enemy and sometimes through the maleficence of the cruel sphere; or else he attains prosperity and falls into adversity. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of a certain vezir.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Of old time there was a king, and he had an experienced and learned vezir. One day the latter went to the bath, and while he was sitting beside the basin, his ring fell from his finger into the water; and it sank not in the water, but floated on the surface. Whenever the vezir saw this he sent men to his house and treasury, saying, ‘Go quickly, and hide in a certain place whatsoever I have in the treasury of gold and silver or rubies and jewels; for now is the king about to seize me.’ Then they went and acted according to his order. And as the vezir was coming out from the bath, men from the king arrived and seized him; and they put him in prison and took possession of whatever he had in his house and treasury.
“One day, after the vezir had been imprisoned for a certain time, his heart longed for a conserve of pomegranate pips, and he ordered the jailer, saying, ‘Make me ready a conserve and bring it, for my heart doth greatly desire it.’ Now the king[399] had forbidden that dish, and the jailer was afraid and made it not. And the vezir’s desire increased and he begged it of all who came to him, but no one made it and brought it through fear of the king. Brief, the vezir lay for a year in prison and longed for that dish, but no one found means to bring him it. One day the jailer made shift to cook that dish and bring it to the vezir. As soon as the vezir saw it he was glad; and they put it before him, but ere he had stretched out his hand to it, two mice, that were struggling with each other above, fell into the dish, and the food became unclean.
“Thereupon the vezir said, ‘It is good;’ and he arose and commanded his servants, saying, ‘Go, furnish the mansion, put that wealth you hid back into its proper place; my king is about to take me from prison and make me vezir.’ Then his retainers went and did as he had commanded. Hereupon came a man from the king who took the vezir from the prison and brought him before the king. Then said the king to comfort the vezir’s heart, ‘I put thee in prison seemingly to afflict thee; but really that thou mightest know, from experiencing imprisonment, speedily to intercede for the men whom I cast into jail.’ Quoth the vezir, ‘Nearness to a sultan is a burning fire: whatsoever conduct be observed toward me by the king is pleasant teaching.’ The king was pleased and commanded that they bring a robe of honor, and he put it on him and made him again vezir.
“Then when the vezir was come to his mansion his retainers and others asked him, saying, ‘Whence knewest thou of the king’s being about to imprison thee and seize thy wealth, and whence knewest thou of his being about to take thee out and make thee vezir?’ The vezir replied, ‘While in the bath my ring fell into the water and sank not, so I knew that my fortune had reached its perfection, and that what follows every perfection is declension, therefore did I so command; and for a whole year, while I was in prison, I longed for a dish of pomegranate pips, at length I got it, and mice polluted it so that I could not eat it, so I knew that my misfortune was complete and that my former estate was returned. And I was glad.’
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may likewise know that every perfection has its declension. Until[400] now the prince and the vezirs were safe and esteemed before the king. Now he knows not in what malefic sign our stars may be imprisoned. A woman has rendered us despicable before the king and has bound him about with craft and wiles, so that these many learned and sagacious vezirs are impotent against her incitements; even as it is clear that when a fool throws a stone down a well a wise man is powerless to get it up again. O king, haste not in this affair; too late repentance profits not; for the prince is like a young bird that can neither fly nor flee, grant him a few days’ respite, haply this difficulty may be solved; and there is a reason for his not speaking. He is ever as a prisoner in thy hand; afterward, if thou will, kill him; if thou will, free him.” And he kissed the ground and begged for the prince. When the king heard this story from the vezir the fire that was in his heart was increased ten-fold and the tears poured from his eyes; and he sent the prince to the prison and mounted for the chase with his own cares.
When the king returned he entered the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady asked for news of the youth. The king said, “To-day too such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him, and I sent him to the prison.” Quoth the lady, “O king, I have given thee this much counsel, and it has produced no effect upon thee. It is as though a physician treated a sick man, and the treatment was without result, and that physician was powerless and attempted no other treatment, but left off; for if he treated that sick man again, he would kill him. Now, I too am powerless to speak to thee. I should say, ‘I will speak no more nor waste my breath in vain;’ still my heart pities thee, for the king’s realm and life will be destroyed. My head, too, will fall; for that I am in the same peril with the king do I speak. It is even as once when they cut off a person’s hand and he uttered no sound; afterward he saw someone whose hand had been cut off, and he wailed aloud and wept. Those who were present wondered and asked, saying, ‘O man, when thy hand was cut off thou didst not weep; why weepest thou now?’ That person answered, ‘By God, then, when they cut off my hand, I saw that there was not among you one who had met the like, and I said in myself that if I wept each of you would speak ill of me, for ye knew not the pain[401] of it; now that I have found a companion in my plight do I weep, for he knows the anguish I have suffered,’ Now, O king, thy head and my head are like to fall; if the king know not my plight, who should know it? Mayhap my king has not heard the story of the three princes and the cadi.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“In the palace of the world there was a king and he had three sons. One day this king laid his head on the pillow of death and called those sons to his side, and spake privately with them. He said, ‘In such and such a corner of the palace I have hidden a vase full of pearls and jewels and diverse gems; when I am dead do ye wash me well and bury me, then go and take that vase from its place and divide its contents.’ The king lay for three days, and on the fourth day he drained the wine of death and set forth for the abiding home. When the princes had buried their father according to his injunctions, they came together and went and beheld that in the place of those jewels the winds blew. Now the princes began to dispute, and they said, ‘Our father told this to us three in private, this trick has been played by one of us.’ And the three of them went to the cadi, and told their complaint. The cadi listened and then said to them, ‘Come, I will tell you a story, and after that I will settle your dispute.
“‘Once, in a certain city, a youth and a girl loved each other, and that girl was betrothed to another youth. When the lover was alone with that girl he said, “O my life, now thou comest to me and I am happy with thee; to-morrow when thou art the bride of thy betrothed, how will be my plight?” The girl said, “My master, do not grieve; that night when I am bride, until I have come to thee and seen thee, I will not give the bridegroom his desire.” And they made a pact to that end. Brief, when the bridal night arrived, the girl and the youth went apart; and when all the people were dispersed and the place was clear of others, the girl told the bridegroom of the pact between her and the stricken lover, and besought leave to fulfil it. Whenever the bridegroom heard these words from the bride he said, “Go, fulfil thy plight and come again in[402] safety.” So the bride went forth, but while on the road she met a robber. The robber looked at her attentively, and saw that she was a beautiful girl like the moon of fourteen nights; never in his life had he seen such a girl, and upon her was endless gold, and she was covered with diverse jewels such as cannot be described. Thereupon the bridle of choice slipped from the robber’s hands; and as the hungry wolf springs upon the sheep, so did the robber spring upon that girl. Straightway the girl began to sigh, and the robber felt pity and questioned her.
“‘So the bride related to the robber her story from its beginning to its end, whereupon the robber exclaimed, “That is no common generosity! nor shall I do any hurt or evil thing to her.” Then said he to the girl, “Come, I will take thee to thy lover.” And he took her and led to her lover’s door and said, “Now go in and be with thy lover.” Then the girl knocked at the door, and that youth, who lay sighing, heard the knocking and went with haste and said, “Who is that?” The girl answered, “Open the door; lo, I have kept my plight, nor have I broken it, I am come to thee.” The youth opened the door and came to the girl and said, “O my life, my mistress, welcome, and fair welcome! how hast thou done it?” She replied, “The folk assembled and gave me to the bridegroom, then all dispersed and each went his way. And I explained my case to the bridegroom and he gave me leave. While on the road I met a robber, and that robber wished to stretch forth his hand to me, but I wept and told him of my plight with thee, and he had pity and brought me to the door and left me, and has gone away.”
“‘When the youth heard these things from the girl he said, “Since the bridegroom is thus generous, and has given thee leave to fulfil thy plight with me, and sent thee to me, there were no generosity in me did I stretch forth my hand to thee and deal treacherously; from this day be thou my sister; go, return to thy husband.” And he sent her off. When the girl went out she saw that robber standing by the door; and he walked in front of her, and conducted her to the bridegroom’s door. And the girl went in, and the robber departed to his own affairs. While the bridegroom was marvelling the bride entered, and the bridegroom leaped up and took the brid[403]e’s hands in his, and they sat upon the bed. And the bridegroom turned and asked her news of the bride; and she told all her adventures from their beginning to their end.’ Then quoth the cadi, ‘O my sons, which of those showed manliness and generosity in this matter?’ The eldest youth said, ‘The bridegroom, who, while she was his lawful bride, and when he had spent thus much upon her, gave the girl leave. What excellent generosity did he display!’ The middle youth said, ‘The generosity was that lover’s, who, while there was so much love between them, had patience and sent her back. What excellent generosity: can there be greater than this!’ Then asked he of the youngest boy, ‘O you, what say you!’ Quoth he, ‘O ye, what say ye? when one hunting in the night met thus fair a beauty, a torment of the world, a fresh rose; above all, laden with these many jewels, and yet coveted her not but took her to her place. What excellent patience, what excellent generosity!’ When the cadi heard these words of the youngest boy he said, ‘O prince, the jewels are with thee; for the lover praised the lover; and the trustful, the trustful; and the robber, the robber.’ The prince was unable to deny it, and he took the jewels from his breast and laid them before the cadi.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that in that I am true I would aid my king; and that the vezirs, in that they are traitors, would aid the traitor prince. And they are forty men, each one of them a wonder of the world, while as for me, I am but one and a woman, lacking in understanding: the rest the king knows.” When the king heard these enticing and beguiling words of the lady he said, “Grieve not, to-morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning the king sat upon his throne and thus commanded the executioner, “Smite off the head of that traitor youth.” Whereupon the ninth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, beware, slay not thy son on the woman’s word, and be not heedless of the import of this verse which God most high hath spoken in his Word: ‘And the stiflers of wrath, and the pardoners of men; and God loveth the beneficent:’[25] that is they are his peculiar servants. And the holy Apostle (peace on him!) hath said, ‘Whoso bridleth his[404] anger, he having power to avenge—God will call him on the resurrection day over the heads of the creatures that he may give him to choose from the houris which he pleaseth:’ that is he shall surely enter Paradise. Let one pardon him who has wronged him and forgive his servants their misdeeds, that God most high may pardon him and be beneficent to him; even as saith the Apostle (peace on him!) ‘The proclaimer shall proclaim on the resurrection day:—Where are they whose reward is (incumbent) upon God; none shall rise save him who hath forgiven.’ Mayhap the king has not heard the story of Hārūn-er-Reshīd[26] and the slave girl.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Once the Caliph Hārūn-er-Reshīd sat upon his throne of estate; and the people of the city of Bagdad were late in coming to salute him. Therefore was the caliph exceeding wroth, and he thus commanded the chamberlains, ‘Whoso comes now do ye turn off and cast into prison.’ And they seized and cast into prison all of the grandees of the city who came. For three days the caliph went not out, neither spake with anyone; but sat full of fury: who could have dared to address a word to him?
“While in this state he desired to eat, and he ordered one of the slave girls to bring food. She brought it before him, but while laying down the dish, she was careless and spilt some part of it over the caliph. Forthwith the caliph rose in wrath and was about to hew the girl in pieces, when she said, ‘O caliph, God most high saith in his glorious Word, “And the stiflers of wrath.”‘[27] Straightway the caliph’s wrath was calmed. Again saith the slave girl, ’“And the pardoners of men.”‘[27] Quoth the caliph, ‘I have forgiven the crimes of all the criminals who may be in prison.’ Again said the slave girl, ’“And God loveth the beneficent.”‘[27] Quoth the caliph, ‘God be witness that I have with my own wealth freed thee and as many unfreed male and female slaves as I have, and that this day I have for the love of God given the half of all my wealth to the poor in alms.’ After that he let[405] bring into his presence all the prisoners who were in the jail and begged absolution of them; and as he had attained to the import of that noble verse, he put on each of them a robe of honor, and devoted himself to justice and equity. And now whoso mentions him doth add, ‘The mercy of God on him!’[28]
“O king, I have told this story for that I have seen this day that thy wrath was great. I would that thou pardon the prince and grant him his life and so do a meritorious deed; and in this matter, beyond doubt and beyond uncertainty, thou shalt become deserving of the mercy and paradise of God most high.” And he kissed the ground and begged for the prince. When the king heard this story from the vezir he sent the youth to the prison and mounted for the chase.
That day he found no game and returned in wrath to the palace. Again the lady rose to greet him and they sat down. After the repast the lady began to speak of the youth. The king said, “Look, my mistress, now all is over, and my prince is still upon thy tongue; to-day too one of my vezirs begged for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady saw that the king was vexed and said, “My king, be kind, be not vexed with me; for I know that soon no good will befall thee from that youth, for he is very covetous of wealth and kingship, and the covetous is ever balked. I saw him without understanding and without discretion; he knows neither his words nor himself; he is even as the sons of that king who took the metaphorical words of their father as literal, and at length lost what wealth was in their hands. Mayhap my king has not heard that story.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was in the palace of the world a great king, and he had three sons. One day that king laid his head upon the pillow of death and called his sons before him and said, ‘O my sons, my life has reached its end; I have counsel to give you, which when I am dead do ye observe.’ His sons replied, ‘On our heads be it; speak, father.’ To his eldest son he said,[406] ‘Build thou a house in every city.’ And to his middle son, ‘Marry thou every night.’ And to his youngest son, ‘Whenever thou eatest, eat honey and butter.’ The king lived not long after giving these injunctions, but died. The eldest son fell to building a house in every city; the middle son married a wife every night, and on the morrow gave her her dower and sent her to her father’s house; and the youngest son, whenever he ate, mixed honey and butter and ate it. A long time passed on this wise; we may say that though the middle and the youngest sons spent money, they at least had pleasure for it; but that bewildered and senseless eldest son spent this much money, and if the buildings he raised were fit for habitation, still they pointed to folly.
“One day a wise man asked them, ‘Why do ye thus?’ The princes answered, ‘By God, our father thus enjoined us.’ The wise man said, ‘Your father’s injunctions were not thus, but ye have not understood his riddles. And there is a tale suitable to this your plight, I will tell it you; afterward I will teach you your father’s riddles.’ The princes said, ‘Pray do so.’ Quoth the wise man, ‘Once there was a king who always exacted tribute from the infidels. One day those infidels assembled their monks and said, “Let us find some trick which the king will be unable to understand, that thereby we may escape from this tribute: now do ye each think of some plan.” Thereupon they dispersed and went away. After a time a monk came to the infidel who was their chief and said, “I shall go to them and put to them a question, and if they can answer it we will give them tribute.”
“‘So the unbelieving king gave that monk a little money and sent him. One day he entered the realms of Islam, and the event was reported to the king, who said, “Our learned men of the faith will surely answer an infidel without the faith; let him come.” They brought him into the presence of the king; and the king straightway assembled his doctors and pious men and grandees. Then the king said, “O monk, now what is thy question; speak, let us see?” The monk first opened the five fingers of his hand and held the palm opposite the folk, then he let the five fingers droop downward, and said, “What means that? know ye?” And all the doctors were silent and began to ponder, and they reflected, saying, “What[407] riddles can these riddles be? There is no such thing in the Commentaries or the Traditions.”
“‘Now there was there a learned wanderer, and forthwith he came forward and asked leave of the king that he might answer. The king gladly gave leave; then that wanderer came forward and said to the monk, “What is thy question? what need for the doctors? poor I can answer.” Then the monk came forward and opened his hand and held it so before the dervish; straightway the dervish closed his fist and held it opposite the monk. Then the monk let his five fingers droop downward; the dervish opened his fist and held his five fingers upward.
“‘When the monk saw these signs of the dervish, he said, “That is the answer,” and gave up the money he had brought. But the king knew not what these riddles meant, and he took the dervish apart and asked him. The dervish replied, “When he opened his fingers and held his hand so to me, it meant ‘now I strike thee so on the face;’ so I showed him my fist, which meant, ‘I strike thy throat with my fist;’ he turned and let his fingers droop downward, which meant, ‘thou dost so, then I strike lower and seize thy throat with my hand;’ and my raising my fingers upward meant, ‘if thou seekest to seize my throat, I too shall grasp thy throat from underneath;’ so we fought with one another by signs.” Then the king called the monk and said, “Thou madest signs with the dervish, but what meant those signs?” The monk replied, “I held my five fingers opposite him, that meant, ‘the five times ye do worship, is it right?’ The dervish presented his fist, which meant, ‘it is right,’ Then I held my fingers downward, which meant, ‘why does the rain come down from heaven?’ The dervish held his fingers upward, which meant, ‘the rain falls down from heaven that the grass may spring up from the earth.’ Now such are the answers to those questions in our books.” Then he returned to his country.
“‘And the king knew that the dervish had not understood the monk’s riddles; but the king was well pleased for that he had done what was suitable; and he bestowed on the dervish a portion of the money which the monk had left. O princes, ye have not understood your father’s riddles and ye have wasted your wealth in vain.’ The princes said, ‘What meant our fathe[408]r’s riddles?’ He replied, ‘Firstly, when he said, “Build thou a house in every city,” he meant, “gain thou a friend in every city, so that when thou goest to a city the house of the friend thou hast gained may be thine.” Secondly, when he said, “Embrace thou a virgin whenever thou embracest,” he meant, “be moderate in thy pleasures that thou mayst enjoy them the more.” Thirdly, when he said, “Whenever thou eatest, eat honey and butter,” he meant, “never when thou eatest, eat to repletion; but eat so that if it be but dry bread thou eatest, it will be to thee as honey and butter.”’ When the princes heard the words of the wise dervish they knew that their father’s signs to them were so, and not that which they had done; and they left off doing those things.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that with youths is no discretion, but in them ignorance and heedlessness abound. Though thou through understanding have compassion on him, yet will he have none on thee; it will be even as when one day Saint Bāyezīid of Bestām[29] saw a mangy dog, and through pity took it and laid it in a place and tended it many days till it became well, whereon it bit his foot. Bāyezīd said, ‘O dog, this is the return for the kindness I did thee—that thou bitest me.’ God most high gave speech to that dog, and it said, ‘O Bāyezīd, is not the proverb well known, “A man acts as a man; a dog, as a dog”?’ Methinks, O king, that in that youth must be an evil vein: for if kindness be to kindness, never so long as he lived could that unworthy one have cast on me an envious glance; above all, never could he have sought to slay my king, his father, the source of his being. I, where am I? Take warning.” And she incited the king with very many evil words, so that he was afraid and said, “Grieve not, to-morrow will I slay him.” And that night was grievous to the king.
Scarce was it morning and had the sun shown forth the riddle of the whiteness of dawn, like as that dervish showed to the king’s sons the riddles of their father, and illumined the world with light, ere the king sat upon his throne and caused the youth to be brought and ordered the executioner, “Smite off his head.” Then the tenth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, every king desires that whithersoever[409] he go he may triumph and conquer; and that the earth be subject to his hand; and that whoso comes to his gate hoping, may find that which he seeks; and that the heart of none be vexed. When in the country of a king despairing hearts are many, that host of despairing hearts gathers together and utterly destroys another gay host. Thus it becomes the greatness and glory of kings, that when they see a beast under a heavy load they have compassion on that beast; even as it was when an ass came, dragging itself along, to the chain of the justice of Nūshīrvān the Just.[30]
“Straightway the king caused it to be brought into his presence, and he saw it to be a lean and worn black ass, whose back was broken with bearing loads. When the king saw that animal in such plight his heart bled, and he laid his hand on the beast’s face and wept full bitterly and said, ‘See ye how this poor creature has been oppressed in my kingdom?’ And he called for a physician and said to him, ‘Go, tend the wounds of this beast, and give it abundance to eat, and wrap round it a good horse-cloth that it be at ease.’ Now, it is incumbent on kings that they have compassion on the unhappy and the weak, and pity them, and believe not plotters and liars, nor trust their evil wicked words; and such folk are very many. Mayhap my king has not heard the story of the king’s son of Egypt and the crafty woman.” The king said, “Relate it, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“In the city of Cairo there was a king and he had two sons. One day he reflected on the doings of the cruel sphere and saw how the world was without constancy and remained not to king nor yet to beggar, but trod all under foot. At length he bethought him how it would not endure for himself either; and he took his younger son and made him apprentice to a master tailor, and said, ‘After all, a trade is needful for a man; and they have said that the least knowledge of a trade is better than a hundred thousand sequins.’ So in a short while the prince became a tailor such that there was not in the city of Cairo one who could ply his scissors and needle. One day[410] the king passed to the abiding home, and his elder son became king. His brother the tailor, fearing for his head, fled and went to the Ka’ba.[31]
“While making the circumambulation,[32] his foot struck against something hard, he looked and saw a girdle and took it up and bound it round his loins, and continued the circumambulation. After a while he saw a khoja who had a stone in either hand and who was beating his breast with these stones and crying, ‘Ah woe! alas! I had hidden in that girdle all the wealth I have gained from my youth; whatever Moslem has found it, let him give it me for the love of God and the honor of the Ka’ba, and the half of it shall be lawful for him as his mother’s milk.’
“When the prince saw and heard him he knew that that girdle was his, and he said in his heart, ‘What has this much wealth and the kingdom of my father done for me? and what should this do for me? I shall not let this poor man weep; I shall give it him.’ And he went round and came before the khoja and said, ‘O khoja, I have found that girdle of thine; lo, it is round my loins.’ The khoja clung fast to the prince, and the prince said, ‘What reward wilt thou give me? lo, the girdle is round my loins.’ Then the khoja took the prince and brought him to his own tent; and the prince loosed the girdle from his loins and laid it before the khoja, and the khoja took it and clasped it to his heart. Then he brake the seal and poured out what was in it; and the prince saw it to be full of precious stones.
“The khoja divided these stones into three heaps and said, ‘O youth, wilt thou take one heap with my good-will, or two without it?’ The prince replied, ‘Give me one heap with thy good-will.’ Then the khoja divided one of those heaps into two and said, ‘Which of them wilt thou take with my good-will?’ Again the prince made choice of a heap. At length the khoja said, ‘Youth, wouldest thou have these remaining jewels, or wouldest thou that we go and that I pray for thee under the Golden Spout?’[33] The prince answered, ‘Wealth perishes, but prayers endure; do thou bless me, I have relinquished all these riches.’ And they went, and he held up his[411] hands and said to the prince, ‘Say thou, “Amen.”’ So the youth raised up his hands and the khoja began to pray. He repeated many prayers in himself, and the prince said, ‘Amen.’ The khoja drew his hands down his face and said, ‘O youth, I have prayed much for thee; now go, and may thy end be good.’
“The prince went away; but after a little he thought in himself, ‘If I go now to Cairo my brother will kill me, let me go along with this khoja to Bagdad.’ So he went back to the khoja and said, ‘O khoja, I would go with thee to Bagdad; take me that I may serve thee on the road.’ So the khoja took him; and the prince was in the khoja’s service, and they entered Bagdad and lighted at the khoja’s dwelling. For some days the prince abode there, then he said to the khoja, ‘I may not stay here thus idling; I have a trade, I am a master tailor, if thou hast any tailor friend, pray take me to him that he may give me some work to do.’
“Now the khoja had a tailor friend, and he straightway took the prince and brought him to the shop of that tailor and commended him to him, and the tailor consented. Then the prince sat down and his master cut out cloth for a robe and gave it him; now the prince had checkmated the Cairo tailors, where then were those of Bagdad? The prince sewed that robe and returned it, and the master took it and looked at it and saw that it was a beautiful robe, made so that in all his life he had not seen the like of it, and he said, ‘A thousand times well-done, youth.’ This news spread among the masters, and they all came to that shop and saw it and admired; and this prince became very famous in that country. The work in that master’s shop was now increased tenfold, and customers in like measure. One day that khoja had a quarrel with his wife, and in the greatness of his heat the words of the triple divorce passed his lips.
“Then he repented and would have got back his wife, and his wife also was willing. They sought a legal decision, but the muftī said, ‘It may not be without an intermediary.’[34] The khoja bethought him whom he could get for intermediary when the prince came into his mind, and he said in himself, ‘That stranger youth is he; I shall make him intermediary.’ So he[412] married the woman to the prince. When it was evening he took him and put him into a dark house with the lady; but the lady made shift to light a candle, and as soon as she saw the prince she fell in love with him with all her heart. And the prince as soon as he saw her fell in love with her with all his heart. Then these two moons came together, and, after making merry, the lady showed the prince sumptuous stuffs, and countless gold, and precious stones, such as the tale and number of them cannot be written, and she said, ‘O my life, all this wealth is mine, it is my inheritance from my mother and my father, and all the wealth too that that khoja has is mine; if thou will not dismiss me to-morrow, but accept me as thy legal wife, all this wealth is thine.’
“The prince consented to this proposal, and the woman said, ‘O youth, when the khoja comes to-morrow he will say, “Come, let us go to the cadi;” say thou, “Why should we go to the cadi?” If he say, “Divorce the woman,” do thou reply, “By God, it were shame in us to take a wife and then divorce her.” And he will be unable to find any answer thereto.’ The prince was glad and accepted the lady’s advice. When it was morning the khoja came and knocked at the door, and the prince went forth and kissed the khoja’s hand. The khoja said, ‘Come, let us go to the cadi;’ the prince answered, ‘Why should we go to the cadi?’ Quoth the khoja, ‘Divorce the woman.’ The prince replied, ‘By God, it were mighty shame in us to divorce the woman; I will not divorce her.’ The khoja exclaimed, ‘Ah youth, what word is that? I trusted thee, thinking thee an upright youth, why speakest thou thus?’
“The prince answered, ‘Is not this which I have said the commandment of God and the word of the Apostle?’ The khoja looked and saw that there was no help; he wished to go to the cadi, but the folk said to him, ‘Khoja, now that woman is his, she is pleased with him and he is pleased with her, they cannot be divorced by force.’ The khoja was filled with grief and said, ‘He shall not be questioned concerning what he doth;’[35] and he ceased from trying.
“He fell ill from his rage and became bedridden; then he called the prince and said to him, ‘Hast thou any knowledge[413] of what I prayed for thee under the Golden Spout?’ The prince replied, ‘I know naught of it.’ The khoja said, ‘Although I would have prayed otherwise, this came upon my tongue: “My God, apportion to this youth my wealth, my sustenance, and my wife.” O youth, would I had not taken from thee yon girdle! O youth, my wife was my existence, now that too is become thine. Now let these sitting here be witnesses that when I am dead all that I possess belongs to thee.’ Three days afterward he died; he perished through grief for that scheming woman; and the prince became possessor of his wealth.
“O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that fidelity comes not from women, and that their love is not to be trusted. When they cannot help it, they are obedient to their husbands, and, fearing the rod of the law, they wrap their feet in their skirts and sit quiet, otherwise they would ruin the world with craft and trickery. Now, O king, act not on the woman’s word.” From seven places he performed the salutation due to kings, and begged for the prince’s life. The king heard this story from the vezir, and that day, too, he sent his son to the prison, and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening, the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast, the lady brought about an opportunity, and began upon the youth. The king said, “To-day such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him, and I have sent him to the prison.” Quoth the lady, “These vezirs are all of them traitors to thee, and they are schemers and plotters. Each of them says words concerning me which if he heard, no true man would bear; a man’s wife is equal with his life. All the people marvel at thee, and say thou hast no sense of honor. But these vezirs have bewitched thee. Thy lies, too, are many; every night thou sayest, ‘I will kill this youth;’ then thou killest him not, and falsifiest thy words. O king, through truth is one acceptable both to God and man. O king, no good will come from a youth like this; it were better such a son did not remain after thee than that he did remain. Mayhap my king has not heard the story of a certain merchant.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:[414]
“There was of old time a great merchant, and he had two sons. One day the merchant laid his head on the pillow of death, and he called his sons before him, and brought together some wise persons, and said, ‘Moslems, if it please God most high, these boys will live for many years; reckon at the rate of a hundred years from to-day, and allow to each of them a daily grant of a thousand aspres, and whatever the sum may amount to, that sum will I give them, that after me they may stand in need of no one till they die, but pass their lives in ease in this transient world.’ Then they reckoned up, and he gave them much money; and a few days afterward he passed to the abiding home.
“The sons buried their father, and then began to waste that money. Their father’s friends gave them much advice, but they would not accept it. One of them would enter the shop of a confectioner and buy up all the sweetmeats that were therein, and load porters with them, and take them to the square of the city, and cry out, ‘This is spoil!’ and the folk would scramble for them, and he would laugh. And his business was ever thus. The other youth would buy wine and meat, and enter a ship with some flattering buffoons, and eat and drink and make merry; and when he was drunk he would mix up gold and silver coins before him, and throw them by handfuls into the sea, and their flashing into the water pleased him, and he would laugh. And his business likewise was ever thus. By reason of these follies, the wealth of both of them came to an end in little time, in such wise that they were penniless, so that they sat by the way and begged.
“At length the merchants, their father’s friends, came together, and went to the king and said, ‘The sons of such and such a merchant are fallen a prey to a plight like this; if they be not disgraced now, to-morrow will our sons also act like them. Do thou now put them to death, for the love of God, that they may be an example, and that others may not act as they.’ Then the king commanded that they bring them both into his presence, and the king said to them, ‘O unhappy ones, what plight is this plight in which ye are? Where is the headsman?’ And he ordered them to be killed. They said, ‘O king,[415] be not wroth at our having fallen into this plight, and kill us not; our father is the cause of our being thus, for he commended us not to God most high, but commended us to money; and the end of the child who is commended to money is thus.’ Their words seemed good to the king, and he said, ‘By God, had ye not answered thus, I had cleft ye in twain.’ And then he bestowed on each of them a village.
“Now, O king, I have related this story for that among youths there is nor shame nor honor, neither is there zeal for friend or foe. Beware and beware, be not negligent, ere the youth kill thee do thou kill him, else thou shalt perish.” When the king heard this story from the lady he said, “On the morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning, and the darkness of night, like the wealth of that merchant, was scattered, the king sat upon his throne and commanded the executioner, saying, “Smite off the youth’s head.” Then the eleventh vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, hurry not in this affair, and whatsoever thou doest, do according to the command of God and the word of the Apostle; and the holy Apostle hath said that when the resurrection is near, knowledge will vanish and ignorance will increase and the spilling of blood will be oft. O king, leave not the Law, and spill not blood unjustly on thine own account, and pity the innocent; for they have said that whoso taketh a fallen one by the hand to raise him shall be happy; but whoso, having the power, raiseth him not shall himself burn in the fire of regret. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of a certain king and a vezir’s son.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Of old time there was a king, and that king had a sage vezir. God most high had given that vezir a son; and the people of the world were bewildered at the beauty of that boy. And the king loved him so that he could not endure to be a moment without seeing him, and he never parted from him. So his parents yearned for the boy, but what avail? they had needs have patience through fear of the king. One day, the king while drunk entered the palace and saw this boy playing[416] with another page, and thereupon was he wroth and he commanded the executioner, ‘Smite off the head of this degenerate boy.’ And they dragged the boy out. Thereupon word was sent to the vezir, and he came straightway, and crying, ‘My life! my son!’ went up to the headsman and said, ‘O headsman, now is the king drunk and senseless and he knows not the words he says; if thou kill the boy to-night, to-morrow the king will not spare thee; but will kill thee likewise.’ The headsman said, ‘How should we do? he said to me, “Quick, smite off his head and bring it.”’
“The vezir answered, ‘Go to the prison and smite off the head of some man meriting death, and bring it; at this time the king has not his senses and will believe it.’ And he gave the headsman much gold. The headsman took the sequins and was glad, and went forthwith to the prison and smote off the head of a robber and brought it to the king. The king was pleased and gave the headsman a robe of honor. And the vezir took the boy and brought him to his own house and hid him there. When it was morning and the king’s senses returned, he asked for the boy, and they said, ‘This night thou didst command the executioner that he smote off the boy’s head.’ As soon as the king heard this he fell senseless and his understanding forsook him. After a while his understanding returned and he sat beating his knees and he fell a-weeping. Then the vezir, feigning not to know, came before the king and said, ‘O king, what plight is this?’ Quoth the king, ‘O vezir, where is that source of my life? where is that spring of my soul?’ The vezir said, ‘O king, whom meanest thou?’ The king replied, ‘Thy son, who was the joy of my heart.’ And he cried and wept beyond control, and the vezir rent his collar and wailed and lamented.
“For two months the one business of the king was sighing and crying; during the nights he would not sleep till dawn for weeping, and he would say, ‘My God, shall I never behold his face? mayhap I shall behold it at the resurrection. To me henceforth life is not beseeming.’ Mad words like these would he utter. And he ceased from eating and drinking, and retired from the throne and sought a private house and wept ever, and it wanted little but he died. When the vezir saw this, he one day decked out the boy like a flower and took[417] him and went to the private place where the king dwelt. He left the boy at the door and went in himself and saw that the king had bowed his head in adoration and was praying to God and weeping and thus saying, ‘My God, henceforth is life unlawful for me, do thou in thy mercy take my soul;’ and he was lamenting, recalling the darling fashions of the boy.
“The vezir heard this wail of the king and said, ‘O king, how thou weepest! thou hast forsaken manhood, and art become a by-word in the world.’ The king replied, ‘Henceforth advice profits me not; lo, begone.’ Quoth the vezir, ‘O king, if God most high took pity on thee and brought the boy to life, wouldst thou forgive his fault? and what wouldst thou give to him who brought thee news thereof?’ The king said, ‘O would that it could be so! all the wealth that I have in my treasury would I give to him who brought me news thereof, and my kingdom would I give to the boy; and I should be content to look from time to time on the boy’s face.’ Then the vezir beckoned to the boy and he came in, and went and kissed the king’s hand. As soon as the king saw the boy his senses forsook him, and the vezir sprinkled rose-water on the king’s face and withdrew. When the king’s senses returned he saw the boy beside him and he thought that his soul had gone and returned.
“When it was morning the vezir came before the king, and the king said, ‘As thou hast brought the boy to me whole, go, all that is in my treasury is thine.’ The vezir answered, ‘O king of the world, rather is the wealth which is in my treasury thine; we are both of us the meanest of the king’s slaves. May God (glorified and exalted be he!) grant fortune to our king and long life! We too shall live in thy felicity.’ The king was glad at the words of the vezir, and bestowed many towns and villages on the son of the vezir, and offered up many sacrifices, and gave away much alms.
“O king, I have told this story for that the king may take profit and not do a deed without reflection, that he be not afterward repentant, like that king, and suffer not bitter regret and remorse. That king suffered so great regret and remorse for a vezir’s son, yet this one is the darling of thine own heart. The rest the king knows. Beware, O king, slay not the prince on the woman’s word.” And he kissed the ground and made in[418]tercession for the prince for that day. So the king sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady commenced to speak about the youth. The king said, “To-day too such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, three things are the signs of folly; the first is to put off to-day’s business till to-morrow, the second is to speak words foolishly, and the third is to act upon senseless words. O king, whatsoever thy vezirs say, that thou believest straightway and actest upon. Satan is of a surety entered into these thy vezirs and into thy boy; in whose heart soever he plants the love of office or of wealth, him in the end does he leave without the faith. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of the King and the Weaver.” The king said, “Relate it, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“Of old time there was a great king. One day a man came before him and said, ‘My king, I shall weave a turban such that one born in wedlock will see it, while the bastard will see it not.’ The king marvelled and ordered that that weaver should weave that turban; and the weaver received an allowance from the king and tarried a long while. One day he folded up this side and that side of a paper and brought it and laid it before the king and said, ‘O king, I have woven that turban.’ So the king opened the paper and saw that there was nothing; and all the vezirs and nobles who stood there looked on the paper and saw nothing. Then the king said in his heart, ‘Dost thou see? I am then a bastard;’ and he was sad. And he thought, ‘Now, the remedy is this, that I say it is a goodly turban and admire it, else will I be put to shame before the folk.’ And he said ‘Blessed be God! O master, it is a goodly turban, I like it much.’
“Then that weaver youth said, ‘O king, let them bring a cap that I may wind the turban for the king.’ They brought a cap, and the weaver youth laid that paper before him and moved his hands as though he wound the turban, and he put[419] it on the king’s head. All the nobles who were standing there said, ‘Blessed be it! O king, how fair, how beautiful a turban!’ and they applauded it much. Then the king rose and went with two vezirs into a private room and said, “O vezirs, I am then a bastard; I see not the turban.’ Quoth the vezirs, ‘O king, we too see it not,’ At length they knew of a surety that the turban had no existence, and that that weaver had thus played a trick for the sake of money.
“O king, thou too sayest, ‘On the morrow will I kill him; I will do this and I will do that;’ and yet there is nothing. O king, I had that dream this night, there is no doubt that it is as I have interpreted. O king, if the king’s life and throne go, who knows what they will do to hapless me?” And she began to weep. When the king saw the lady thus weeping his heart was pained and he said, “On the morrow I will indeed refuse the words of whichsoever of my vezirs makes intercession for him, and I will indeed kill the youth; for, according to the dream thou hast had, this is no light affair.”
When it was morning the king came and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and commanded the executioner, “Smite off his head.” Whereupon the thirteenth vezir came forward and sought to make intercession, but the king was wroth and said, “Be silent, speak not.” Thereupon the vezir drew a paper from his breast and said, “For God’s sake read this paper, then thou wilt know.” Then the king looked at the paper and saw that there was written thereon, “O king, yesterday I looked at the astrolabe; for forty days is the prince’s ruling star in very evil aspect, such that the prince may even lose his head.” Then all the forty vezirs came forward at once and said, “O king, for the love of God and the honor of Muhammed Mustafa, for the forty days have patience and slay not the prince; thereafter it is certain that this affair will be made clear, and when its origin is known must each one receive his due.” Then said the vezir, “There is a story suitable to this; if the king grant leave I will tell it.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:[420]
“There was in the palace of the world a great king and he ruled over the Seven Climes. But he had neither son nor daughter, and he was ever offering sacrifices in the way of God. One day God most high accepted his sacrifice and bestowed on him from his bounty a fair son who was in his time a second Joseph. So the king was glad, and that day he held a high feast, and at that feast he gave robes of honor and money to many men. After that he assembled the astrologers and made them cast the prince’s horoscope; and the astrologers looked the one at the other and were bewildered and confounded. Then the king said, ‘What see ye that ye stand looking the one at the other?’ The astrologers replied, ‘O king of the world, we have cast the prince’s horoscope; and in the astrolabe and the Jāmesb-Nāma they thus rule, that from his thirtieth year to his sixtieth the prince’s ruling star is afflicted so that he shall wander in strange lands, with tribulation and pain for his companions: “None ... knoweth the unseen save God.”‘[36] After the king had heard these things from the astrologers, at times his heart would be sad and at times he would plunge into the ocean of deliberation. Saying, ‘God knows the end of the boy,’ he began to train up the prince. When the latter entered his seventh year he appointed him a teacher, and he passed some years in acquiring reading and writing. When he was become a young man his father got for him a king’s daughter; and after a time the prince had two sons. These children, too, in a little time acquired knowledge; and from time to time they would go out a-pleasuring with their father.
“One day the prince’s heart desired a sea-voyage, and he commanded that they prepare a ship, and with his children and forty slaves and attendants he entered the ship. For many days they sailed the sea full pleasantly. But there was there a Frankish corsair filled with infidels, and they encountered the prince’s ship and straightway flung their grappling-irons, and took captive the prince and his two sons and forty servants, and went off. They took the prince and the forty men and sold them to the cannibal negroes; but the two boys they sold not, but kept by them. The negroes fed up the prince[421] and the men with delicate and delicious foods, and every day they took one of them to their king’s kitchen and cut his throat, and cooked him at the fire and ate him. When they had eaten the forty men, the prince’s turn came, him too they took and brought to the kitchen that they might cut his throat. The prince perceived that plight, and he entreated God in his heart to give him strength, and he burst the fetters that were round his wrists and, striking about with the chains that were in his hands, he slipped through them and rushed out.
“While he was running on, a vast forest appeared before him, he entered it, and although the negroes searched for him they could not find him. Then he came out thence and fared on many stages till one day he came to a great city. The people crying, ‘He is an enemy,’ rushed upon him. And the prince exclaimed, ‘O Lord, what tribulation is this!’ and fought with them. Word was brought to their king, and he came and saw that the prince was fighting like a dragon. When the king saw the prince’s valor he admired it, and said to his soldiers who were there, ‘Let no one attack the stranger.’ Then the soldiers dispersed, and the king took the prince and went to the palace. He prepared a suit of clothes, and sent him to the bath, and caused his head to be shaven and made him put on those clothes, and brought him back to the palace. The king said, ‘Come, remain by me, I have a daughter, I will give her thee.’ The prince consented; so they gave him the king’s daughter; and he remained there two years and his lot was right pleasant. One day the prince’s wife died; now this was their custom, they had a great deep pit, and if a man died they put his wife with him alive into that pit, and if a woman died they did the same with her husband; and they let down along with them a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water, and covered over the pit with a great stone.
“So they brought the prince and his wife with a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water to that pit, and, saying, ‘It is our custom,’ lowered both of them into the pit and placed that great stone over them. When the prince saw himself in such case he was bewildered and said, ‘My God! what plight is this!’ and he prayed to God. And he searched the inside of the pit carefully and saw a fair girl seated there, and he asked her, ‘What manner of girl art thou?’ She replied, ‘I am a[422] young bride; they have put me into this pit with my husband.’ And the prince examined the pit, and saw it to be all full of the bodies of men, some of which were decayed and some of which were writhing in the agonies of death; and dread overcame the prince. Of a sudden, while he was seated, a rustling sound came from one part of the pit; the prince knew that it was some beast, and he arose and went with the girl straight to that place, and he found the passage through which that beast had come in. They went for a time through that passage, and at length came out on the skirt of a mountain on the bank of a great river. And they were glad thereat, and thanked God much.
“And there they found a boat, and they gathered fruit from that mountain and filled the boat, and they both entered the boat and went along with the current of the river. That river grew wider day by day; but it passed underneath a great mountain. When they came near to the tunnel under that mountain they could not govern the boat, and the water took the boat and bore it under the mountain. When the prince saw this he exclaimed, ‘My God! O Lord! what tribulation is this too! how shall we escape from this!’ Helpless they sat in the boat; now the water dashed the boat against the rocks, now it made it fly down precipices, and now the mountain became low and pushed the boat under the water; and they, never ceasing, emptied the water out of the boat. They knew not at all whither the boat was going, neither did they know whether it was night or day. For a long time they were a prey to that anguish; and scarce a spark of life remained in their bodies when, at length, after a hundred thousand perils, their boat came out from under the mountain on to the surface of the earth.
“They were glad, and they drew their boat to the shore and got out of it, and took fruits from the trees that were there, and ate them. While standing there they saw a great white vaulted building, the dome whereof was of crystal. The prince and the girl went up to it, and they saw that it was a great castle, and that the domed building was within the castle, and on the door of the castle was written, ‘O thou who wouldst open this door, O thou who desirest to overcome this talisman, bring a five-footed animal and kill it before here, that the bolts[423] of this talisman may be opened thereby,’ The prince marvelled and said, ‘Is there in the world a five-footed animal?’ and he wondered. And they sat by the gate of the castle and lice tormented them, and they began to louse themselves. The prince killed a louse, and straightway the bolts of the castle fell, and they knew that the said five-footed animal was the louse. Then they both entered by a door, and they saw a garden, such that of every tree which is in the world there was therein; and ripe fruits were hanging there and running streams were flowing.
“And the prince felt a longing for those fruits and he went to pluck one of them that he might eat it, when he saw that those trees were of gold and their fruits of silver and jewels, and that precious stones were lying at the foot of the trees, scattered like pebbles in a brook. They passed through and came to that dome, it was fashioned of crystal, they entered by a silver door and saw that within that dome was another dome all of pure gold. It too they entered and saw yet another dome, all the walls and the top of which were of ruby, built after the fashion of paradise. They entered it and saw a throne upon which was a coffin made of jewels, and at the head of the coffin was a tablet whereon was written: ‘O son of Adam, who comest hither and seest me, know thou that I was a king, and that all the world was in my hands, and my wealth was beyond bounds or computation. Men and demons and fairies and jinn were my warriors; and I lived in the world for a thousand years, and I never said, “I shall die;” and I made not any preparation against death. One day, of a sudden, I fell sick, and I knew of a surety that I was about to die, and I commanded that this dome was built in three days, and I made it a sepulchre for myself. And by my head are two fountains; drink, and pray for me.’
“And the prince saw those two fountains and drank; and from one of them flowed sugared sherbet and from the other milk. And they drank of both of them and remained a long while by that grave, and they nourished themselves on the milk and drank of the sherbet. At length they found some vases, and they took of the milk and the sherbet and the jewels and the gold, and filled their boat with them, and again set forth on their voyage. After they had gone for a time the wind[424] drove their boat upon an island, and they went forth from the boat to look for fruit on the mountain that they might eat. Of a sudden a body of men came and seized them; and the prince saw these that they had no heads, their mouths were in their breasts and their eyes in their shoulders, and their speech, when they spake together, was as the chirping of birds. And they took the two and brought them to their king; and they remained there prisoners a long time.
“At length one day they found an opportunity and escaped, and again they entered their boat and sailed for a long time upon the sea. Brief, the prince wandered for thirty years upon the seas, sometimes happening among nine-headed men, and sometimes among bird-headed, and sometimes falling among elephant-headed folk, and sometimes among ox-headed, and then escaping; and each of them inflicted different torments on the prince. Still God most high opened a way and he escaped. And he saw these strange and wondrous creatures, and he marvelled. At length, through the grace of God (glorified and exalted be he!), the wind drove the prince’s ship before a city, and he saw that the inhabitants of that country were all men, and he came out. When these saw the prince they cried, ‘He is a spy,’ and seized him and bound his arms behind his back, and tied a rope round his neck, and took him alongside a horse, and said, ‘Our lord has put down: when ships come from the sea and touch at our country, seize their spies and take them to our king.’ And the prince exclaimed, ‘What tribulation is this too! how to go alongside a horse!’ And while he was praying in his heart they reached the city. And they took the prince in this plight to their king.
“When the king saw the prince he asked, ‘What manner of man art thou?’ The prince said, ‘Many marvellous things have befallen me;’ and he related his adventures from their beginning to their end. When the king heard his story he loosed the prince’s bands and took him to his side and clad him in sumptuous robes of honor. The prince asked for the jewels that were in his ship. The king bade bring them and said, ‘O prince, I know thy kingdom, and I heard that the Franks had taken thee; and I know thy father too. Come, go not away, stay; I have a daughter, I will give her thee, and we shall live pleasantly together.’ The prince replied, ‘O king,[425] when I was born of my mother, my father caused my horoscope to be cast, and the astrologers thus ruled, that my life was afflicted for thirty years; mayhap if I took the king’s daughter, some evil might befall the king’s daughter by reason of my affliction; I may not consent.’ Then the king brought the astrologers and made them cast the prince’s horoscope. The astrologers gave good news, saying, ‘Glad tidings be to thee, those thirty afflicted years are passed, now his ruling star has entered the sign of good fortune.’ The prince was exceeding glad and joyful.
“Thereupon the king commanded that they made ready a festival, and he gave his daughter to the prince, and he greatly honored and reverenced him. After some time the king died, and the prince became king in his stead. One day when he was seated on his throne they said, ‘O king, a Frank has come with much merchandise; if the king grant leave, he will bring his merchandise.’ The king replied, ‘There is leave, let him bring it.’ And the Frank brought his merchandise before the king. The king saw his two sons at the Frank’s side, then the blood of love boiled, and the affection of paternity yearned for them; and he asked that Frank, ‘Are these youths thine?’ The Frank answered, ‘They are my slaves.’ The king said, ‘I will buy them.’ And he took the youths to a place apart and said, ‘Where did this Frank get you?’ Then they related their adventures from their beginning to their end; and the king knew of a certainty that they were his own sons, and he pressed them to his heart and kissed each of them on the eyes, and said, ‘I am your father.’ Then the king arose; and they killed the Frank with a thousand torments.
“O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that haps such as this often befall princes. Their happy fortune passes into the sign of inauspiciousness, and they become a prey to a thousand tribulations and distresses, so that even gold turns into black earth in their hands, and all their friends become enemies to them. Afterward the malefic aspect gives place to prosperity and auspiciousness, then everyone is their friend. O king, this youth’s ruling star is likewise afflicted for a few days. Beware, O king, until the days of the malefic aspect be fulfilled, slay not the youth, else afterward thou wilt be repentant, and too late repentance profits not. The rest the[426] king knows.” When the king heard this story from the vezir he asked for the youth’s governor, but he could not be found. So again he sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady again began to speak about the youth. The king said, “To-day also such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” And he related to the lady that story which the vezir had told. Then said the lady, “O king, the reason of these vezirs stirring up trouble is that they wish to sow enmity between thee and me. Beware, O king, go not by the words of these, but follow well my words, that thy present state and thy hereafter may be happy. When God most high decrees good between husband and wife he gives mildness and accord. And, moreover, O king, be it good news to thee, a week ago did I conceive by thee; till now I have not told thee, but now I have told thee and do thou believe it true.” And the king believed it. Then she continued, “O king, lo, these vezirs say that this youth’s star has fallen into a malefic aspect. His star became afflicted what time he made for thy life and thy kingdom and for me. God most high aided us and afflicted his star and brought down his head.” And the lady was glad and said, “Thy true son is he that is in my womb; that youth is without doubt base-born. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of him who had no sons.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was in the palace of the world a great king, and he had neither son nor daughter. And there was in his country a sheykh whose prayers were answered. One day the king, while conversing with the sheykh, said, ‘O sheykh, God most high has given me no son; do thou strive in prayer that God most high give me a son.’ The sheykh replied, ‘Send an offering to the convent that the dervishes may eat, and we shall pray for thee; God most high is a gracious king, he will give thee a son.’ Now the king had a golden-ankleted[427] fat ram that was valiant in fight; and he sent that ram to the sheykh’s convent with some loads of rice and honey and oil. That night the dervishes ate and were pleased; and the sheykh sent of that meat in an earthen bowl to the king, saying, ‘Let him desire a son and eat of the dervishes’ portion.’ Then the dervishes danced, after which they prayed and besought of God a son for the king. By the divine decree the king’s wife conceived that night, and in a short time she brought forth a moon-faced boy.
“The king was delighted, and called the people of the country to the feast; and he took the prince and laid him on the sheykh’s skirt, and he bestowed many gifts on the sheykh’s convent. One day, some time after that, when the king was conversing with the sheykh, he said, ‘O sheykh, what if thou were to pray and beseech of God another son for me?’ The sheykh replied, ‘The favors of God are many; to pray is ours, to give is his; send then an offering to the dervishes.’ Now the king had a favorite plump horse, that sent he forthwith to the convent. The devotees cut its throat and roasted it, and again sent an earthen bowl of it to the king. They ate the rest themselves, and prayed and besought of God a son for the king. By the divine decree the lady again conceived, and in a short time she brought forth a moon-faced boy. And the king was delighted and sent many gifts to the dervishes. Some time afterward the king requested the sheykh to beg of God yet another son. The sheykh said, ‘To pray is ours, to give is God’s; send again an offering to the devotees.’ Now the king had a good mule, that sent he to the convent. The devotees sold that mule and took its price and therewith prepared a confection. And they sent a bowl of that too to the king. After the dance they prayed and besought of God a son for the king.
“Again the king’s wife conceived and gave birth to a moon-faced boy. And the king was glad and sent many gifts to the dervishes. When the king’s sons grew up, the eldest turned out very valiant; the second proved swift of foot and accomplished and possessed of understanding and sagacity; but the youngest was ill-omened and ill-natured, and oppressed men, and wounded and wasted the hearts of many poor creatures with the sword of his tongue. And the king was sore[428] grieved because of him. One day while conversing with the sheykh he complained of his youngest son and said, ‘O sheykh, would that we had not besought of God that youngest boy.’ The sheykh replied, ‘O king, why art thou grieved? thou art thyself the cause of that youth being thus.’ The king asked, ‘How am I the cause?’ The sheykh answered, ‘First thou gavest in the cause of God a ram[37] among beasts, and God most high hath given thee a son of courage among men; then thou gavest in the cause of God a courser of the plain of earth among beasts, and God most high hath given thee a courser of the plain of glory and fortune and understanding and accomplishments among men; and after that thou gavest in the cause of God an ill-omened and base-born brute among beasts, and God hath given thee such an one among men. O king, he who sows barley reaps not wheat.’ In the end the king got no rest until he had killed the youth.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that from this ill-omened, base-born one no good will come. They have said that the base-born are of two classes; the one the fruit of adultery, the other the fruit of illicit union. This thy son is without doubt of one of these two sets; lo, thy true-born offspring is about to come into existence.” When the king heard these beguiling words of the lady he said, “On the morrow will I kill the youth, be not sad.”
When it was morning the king came and sat upon his throne and ordered the executioner that he bring the youth, and he said, “Smite off his head.” The fifteenth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, it is not seemly to kill the prince in compliance with the woman’s word, for the angels that are in heaven are not safe against woman’s wiles. Hast thou heard the story of the King’s Remorse?” The king said,
“Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“There was in the palace of the world a famous king and God most high had given him a son. After some time the son became afflicted with a heartburn, and he would ever complain of his heart. The king brought together all the physicians that were to be got, and they treated the boy’s ailment;[429] but it was in vain, the physicians were powerless. As often as the boy said, ‘Father, my heart,’ the king would say, ‘Son, my heart aches more than thy heart;’ and the king was afflicted at his pain. At length the boy died. After the dismay, the king came up by the boy and said, ‘Cut him open that I may see what pain was in his heart.’ When they had cut open the boy the king saw that a bone had grown on the top of his heart. The king ordered that they took out that bone and then buried the boy; and the king caused that bone to be made into the handle of a knife.
“One day they placed a water-melon before the king; the king cut the melon with that knife and ate some of it, and he stuck the knife into the remains of the melon and left it. Then the king caused the chess things to be brought and he began to play; afterward he went to take up the knife when he saw that the part of the handle which had penetrated into the melon was melted and had vanished. As soon as the king saw this he exclaimed, ‘Dost thou see? the cure for my son’s sickness was water-melon; and I knew it not.’ And his heart was grieved thereat, and he began to weep, and said, ‘Son, it has gone from thy heart and come into my heart; would that thou hadst not come to earth!’ And at length that king died of anguish of soul.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst beware and slay not thy child on the woman’s word, lest thou too die of anguish of soul.” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince. When the king heard this story from the vezir he sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they passed on and sat down. After the repast the lady began to speak about the youth. The king said, “This day also such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, this youth is a dragon, until he be killed thou shalt not be safe from his malice; it is even as it was with a certain king who until he had killed his son could not escape from his pain; mayhap the king has not heard that story.” Then the king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:[430]
“They have related that a great king was wroth with Luqmān,[38] and commanded that they lowered him into a pit and closed up the mouth of the pit with a great stone. By Luqmān the sage was a pill, of the bigness of a walnut, which he had made by his science. He ever smelled it, and his hunger was satisfied and his thirst was quenched; and for a long time he remained in that pit. The king who imprisoned him died, and his son became king in his stead. And sickness seized upon this king; and the physicians treated him, but he grew no better, and his trouble increased upon him. They were helpless and said, ‘O king, had Luqmān been alive he could have cured thy pain.’ Then said the king, ‘What manner of man was Luqmān?’ They replied, ‘Thy father was wroth with him and put him into the pit; by now his bones are rotten. But Luqmān was a man such that God most high hath mentioned him in the noble Koran; such a sage has never come to earth.’ The king said, ‘If it be so, open the pit, belike he has in some way saved himself.’
“They went and opened that pit and went down and saw him sitting there, and they came and told the king. The king said, ‘Quick, go bring him.’ They went to pull him out of the pit, when Luqmān said, ‘If the king wish me, wrap me in cotton and draw me out; and bring to me a leech every night.’ They did so, and after forty days he arose and came before the king, and he saw the king lying without strength. After praising and lauding him, he asked of the king’s trouble and felt his pulse, and said, ‘O king, thou hast a hard sickness.’ Then he asked, ‘Has the king a son?’ They replied, ‘He has.’ Luqmān said, ‘O king, until the throat of thy son be cut and his blood rubbed on thy body, this thy pain will not leave thee.’ The king answered, ‘O Luqmān, thou art thyself a great man; I will consent to my own death, but I will not consent to my son’s.’ Quoth Luqmān, ‘O king, I have told thee the cure; the rest thou knowest.’ And he arose and went away.
“After some days the king’s trouble increased, and he called[431] Luqmān to his side and said, ‘O Luqmān, is there no other remedy?’ Luqmān answered, ‘O king, there is no cure save the cutting of thy son’s throat.’ The king’s soul came up to his throat through that trouble. Quoth Luqmān, ‘O king, when thou art well, sons will not be lacking thee.’ Then said the king, ‘Now get the boy and cut his throat in a distant place that mine eyes see it not.’ Luqmān said, ‘There is no good if it be done in another place, it is needful that it be done before thine eyes.’ Then they gave the boy into Luqmān’s hands. And Luqmān bound the boy’s hands and feet, and cunningly tied a bladder filled with blood round the boy’s throat, and laid him down before the king. Then he took a diamond knife in his hand and said, ‘O king, now look, see how I cut the prince’s throat.’
“When the king’s two eyes were fixed on the boy, he struck against the boy’s throat with the knife and the blood gushed out. When the king saw the blood on the boy’s throat he sighed; and when Luqmān saw him he thanked God. And straightway he raised the boy from the ground and kissed his two eyes; and Luqmān said, ‘O king, I could find no other way to turn off thy sickness than this trick.’ Then the king greatly applauded Luqmān and bestowed upon him much wealth.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that until the king have killed his son, he too will have no security from trouble.” When the king heard this story from the lady he was wroth and said, “To-morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning the king went and sat upon his throne and he caused the youth to be brought and ordered the executioner, “Smite off his head.” The sixteenth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, it is not beseeming thy glory that thou castest to the waters the words of the vezirs; for men are either good or bad concerning the king, whatsoever they say, the king is informed thereof, and the king is given word of evil or hurt about to be, and all that goes on without is known to the king, that he may make preparation accordingly. It is even as in the tradition, ‘Speak to men according to their understanding.’ Mayhap my king has not heard the story of the dervish and the king.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:[432]
“There was in a palace of the world a king and his name was Aydin (light). One day a dervish came before him and spake pleasantly with fair discretion; and whatsoever they asked, he answered the whole of it, and his every word seemed good to the king. The king said, ‘O dervish, go not away, let us spend this evening together.’ The dervish blessed him and said, ‘On head and eye.’ Now it was then very cold. So the king took the dervish, and they went to the palace and sat down. The king ordered that they laid wood upon the fireplace and set light to it, whereupon the dervish repeated these verses—
“As these verses seemed right good to the king, he wrote them in his album; and he said to the dervish, ‘Tell some merry story.’ Quoth the dervish, ‘O king, once there was a king, and by him there was a devotee. One day they said to the king, “Yon devotee is a Rāfizī.”[39] The king, to try him, one day asked that devotee, “O devotee, lovest thou Saint Abu Bekr the True?” The devotee replied, “Nay.” He said, “Lovest thou Saint ‘Omar?” He answered, “Nay.” “Then lovest thou Saint ‘Othmān?” He answered, “Nay, nay.” “Then lovest thou Saint ‘Alī the Approved?” He answered, “Nay.” Thereupon the king’s difficulties from being one became two, and he thought and said in himself, “If this devotee were a Rāfizī, he would love Saint ‘Alī, though he loved not the other Noble Companions our Lords; if he were a Sunnī, he would love all of the Four Chosen Friends our Lords.” And he turned and said to the devotee, “Thou lovest none of the Glorious Companions, whom then lovest thou?”
“‘The devotee replied, “There is at the gate of the bazaar a loveling of the age; lo, that is whom I love.” The king was pleased with this jest of the devotee and gave him many gifts.’ And that dervish told stories such as this to the king, and he[433] amused the king with many jests. That night they ate and drank, and when their converse was finished, drowsiness came upon the king, and he would have lain down, but the devotee was at ease and would not rise and go. The slaves thought to say to the devotee, ‘Arise and go,’ but they feared the king and were silent. The king too wished that the devotee might perceive by his discretion that he should arise; but where was that discretion? The king looked, but it was not.
“Then he called to his servants, ‘Strike the fagot that the glow (ishiq) may go out.’ The servants understood not and remained still. Thereupon the devotee said, ‘Why wait ye? Strike the log that the light (aydin) may spring up.’ Now the king’s name was Aydin (light) and the devotee’s name was Ishiq (glow).[40] The king said, ‘I sent thee off with a fagot, that is struck thee with a fagot, but thou didst strike me with a log.’ The devotee said, ‘My king, thou didst not strike me with a fagot, neither did I strike my king with a log; so do thou rest on the one side of the hearth and I shall rest on the other.’ And the king was pleased with these words of the devotee; and they lay down and rested.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that a certain freedom is usual with the accomplished. Now there are no learned men equal to these forty vezirs of my king, each one of whom utters these many good sayings and fair words; and indeed the good or bad of these has many a time been tried. And what is incumbent upon my king is this, that he listen not to the words of these inattentively nor cast them to the winds.” The king said, “This demand leaves me in bewilderment. Our Lord the Apostle of God hath said concerning women, that they are enemies to you, but that one of them is needful to each of you. And God most high hath said in his glorious Word, ‘Your wealth and your children are but a trial.’[41] Now I ask these affairs of this youth and he answers not at all; and so long as he will not speak, will my difficulty remain unsolved. Thus it seems to me that this youth has done this wantonness, and therefore cannot speak.”
When the vezir saw this much consideration on the part of[434] the king he said, “My king, in everything the mysterious workings of God most high are many; let not my king regard the not speaking of the youth. One day will he speak indeed; yea, there is also in that noble verse concerning children, ‘And God: with him is great reward.’” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince. And the king sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase. That day, when they were hunting, a deer rose, and the hounds pursued it, and all the attendants pushed their horses after that deer, and the king too pushed on. Each one went in a different direction, and the king was left alone. When it was evening there was with him no attendant nor anyone; the king looked and there was none, and he said, “There is in this some divine working.” And straightway he disguised himself and pushed on and came to a village and was guest in a shepherd’s house.
On the morrow he rose betimes, and while he was watching the sheep and lambs, he looked and saw a lamb that had lost its mother. Seeking about, it went up to a sheep, and that sheep butted at the lamb, and the lamb fell. It rose again and went to another sheep; and that sheep likewise butted at the lamb. The king asked this from the shepherd, “Why do these sheep butt at that lamb?” The shepherd said, “To-day this lamb’s mother died; these, being not its mother, receive it not.” Then the king sighed in his soul and said in his heart, “May God most high leave not a servant of his an orphan.”
Let us to our story: The attendants returned to the city, and each one turned his horse’s head straight to the palace. They arrived at the castle, and one of them called out and learned the circumstance (of the king’s absence) from the watchmen; so they went to look for news of the king. On the other hand the watchmen informed the grand vezir of the matter; and straightway the grand vezir commanded that all of those watchmen were secured in prison,[42] and he himself walked about the city till morning. He sent a vezir to the king’s attendants, saying, “Go tell the attendants that they publish not this affair, and do thou go with the whole of them to seek the king.” On her part, the lady looked and the time passed and the king came not, and she caused the grand vezir[435] to be questioned; the vezir sent word to her, “This night there is a great council; our king will not go in.”
The vezir questioned the king’s attendants; and while they were going to the place where they had left the king, the king himself set out from the village where he was and came to the place where the attendants had dispersed. The attendants saw the king, and brought word to the vezir; so the vezir pushed on his horse and came up to the king. The king said in his heart, “These will have enthroned the prince and sent this vezir to me; now is he coming to give me the sherbet; O how the lady’s words were true!” The vezir saw from the king’s countenance that he was thinking thus, and he came up quickly to him, and kissed the ground before the king, and said, “My king, what plight is this plight? Is it beseeming to remain without at such a time? Above all, as the prince has been these many days imprisoned, everyone says that the king’s senses have well nigh left him.”
Thereupon the king said, “Have ye taken the prince from prison?” The vezir replied, “Nay, my king; the grand vezir secured in prison the watchmen who had learned of my king’s remaining out in the evening from the attendants who came to the gate; and he sent me and the attendants to seek my king.” The king’s mind was somewhat comforted, but his heart would not believe. Then the vezir perceived that the king’s heart was not at ease and he said to the king, “My king, thy grand vezir sent me hither in the evening; to learn the events of to-day are my eyes now on the road.” And he kissed the ground and was silent. The king said, “If we went on now it were too quick; but let an attendant go and inform the vezir of the affair.” They sent on an attendant; and that day, when it was evening, the king came to the palace and found everything in its proper place, and his heart was again at rest concerning his vezir.
After the repast he entered the harem. The lady had rubbed a dye upon her eyes and made them red, and she rose to greet the king as if weeping; and the king passed on and sat in his place. When coffee and sherbets had been drunk she asked of the haps of the night, and the king related the events to her. She said, “O king, the thing thou hast done might be in two ways; the one, of purpose, to distinguish between friend and[436] foe; the other, by chance. In this instance thou hast passed the evening outside by chance, and thy heart is at ease for that thy vezirs have done no unseemly deed. But, my king, beware, trust not these vezirs; for they would make the youth king. Praise be to God! thou art well, but they still watch their opportunity; and this youth has no dread of thee, thou hast brought him up full insolent; that is not good. And they have said that if a person treat thee as a brother, do thou treat him as a master and deem him great. Kings are like fire; if thou be a lion, thou must be on thy guard against the fire, even as lions are on their guard against fire.
“There is a fable suitable to this: The lynxes go along with the lion, but they go not close to him. One day they asked one of them, ‘Thou goest along with the lion; why goest thou not near to him?’ He replied, ‘Firstly, the lion hunts beasts and I eat his leavings; secondly, when an enemy comes against me I go to him and take refuge; as these two things are good for me I go along with him. And the reason of my going not near is this, that his glory is that of a render, one day it might be that he should rend me like the leopard; therefore go I not near him.’ Wise is he who acts before kings like the lynx; for nearness to the sultan is a burning fire. Even as the lynx is content with and eats the lion’s leavings, must the wise man be content with the king’s leavings; else, if he stretch forth his hand to the morsel that is in the king’s mouth—the plight of him who stretches forth his hand is notorious. If an enemy appear, it is needful to take refuge with the king; so one must ever be between dread and entreaty, and must measure his words. A word is like an arrow that has left the bow, when once it leaves the mouth it returns not again. Mayhap my king has not heard the story of Sultan Mahmūd[43] and Hasan of Maymand.”[44] The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“A word was the cause of Sultan Mahmūd dismissing his vezir Hasan of Maymand, and confiscating all his property and banishing him. So what could Hasan of Maymand do[437] but yield consent to misfortune and bear calamity with patience? One day, during his exile, while he was passing along a street, a group of children were playing, one was prince and one was vezir. The prince got angry and wished to banish the vezir and confiscate his property. The child who was vezir said, ‘Art thou just or art thou a tyrant?’ The prince answered, ‘I am just,’ Then said the vezir, ‘Thou art just; well, when I came to thee I was young, and I have spent my life in thy service and gained my property; now thou confiscatest my property and takest away my office, I now ask back from thee my life that I have spent in thy service; if thou be just, it is right that thou give me my life.’ The prince was silent and made that child vezir again.
“Hasan of Maymand liked the child’s words, and straightway he went and composed a petition and sent it to Sultan Mahmūd. When the petition arrived they took it and gave it to the king. The king read it, and when he perceived its import, he straightway ordained that he was pardoned and reinstated in his office. So he was dismissed by one word and reinstated by one word.
“O king, I deemed this story suitable in that a master of speech comes not readily to hand; and a master of speech is one who knows the speech that ought to be spoken. For speech is of two kinds; one kind is truth, another kind is folly. A wise man distinguishes between the speech of a sage and the speech of a fool. A sage speaks with understanding, but a fool speaks with trickery. The man who distinguishes not between these is like a beast, for a beast knows only when it is hungry and when it is full. Now this thy degenerate son has made for thy life and thy throne; this is beseeming, that thou give him neither grace nor time. Thou must kill him to-morrow, else he will slay thee.” When the king heard this story from the lady he said, “To-morrow will I finish his affair.”
When it was morning and the sun shed light (aydin) and, like the words of the king and the dervish, the glow (ishiq) appeared, and the world was illuminated with radiance, the happy-fortuned king passed and sat upon his throne, and he caused the executioner to bring the youth and commanded, “Smite off his head.” The eighteenth vezir came forward[438] and said, “O king of the world, two things are indeed incumbent upon kings; the first is to have pity on the folk, and the second is to have mercy in the time of wrath. Long will be the life of the king who is thus, and God most high will protect him from all calamities. It is even as said our lord the Holy Apostle of God, ‘Be merciful to those upon the earth that the dwellers in heaven may have mercy upon you.’ And the friends of a king who is generous are many, and he triumphs over his enemies, and is of the host of the prophets and the saints. And there is a story of Sultan Mahmūd suitable to this; if the king grant leave, I will relate it.” The king said, “Relate, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“One day while Sultan Mahmūd, the son of Sebuktekīn, was hunting, he got separated from his soldiers, and he saw someone going along in a trackless place. He pushed on and came up to that man and saluted him and said, ‘O man, whence art thou and what is thy origin?’ The man replied, ‘From the kingdom; and my origin my mother knows.’ Then the sultan saw that he was wrapped up in black clothes and mounted on a black ass; and the king asked, ‘Whither goest thou now?’ That man replied, ‘I go to Sultan Mahmūd,’ The king said, ‘What is thy desire of the sultan?’ The man answered, ‘I want 10,000 aspres of him; I have a debt, perchance he may give it me and I shall be freed from my debt.’ The sultan said, ‘If he give it not, how wilt thou act?’ The man replied, ‘If he will not give 10,000, let him give 1,000.’ Again the sultan said, ‘If he will not give even 1,000, what wilt thou do?’ The man replied, ‘If he will not give a thousand aspres, let him give a hundred aspres.’ The sultan said, ‘If he will not give even that, what wilt thou do?’ Then the fellow replied, ‘If he will not give even a hundred aspres, I shall say, Bu qara eshegimin durt ayaghi ‘avretinin ferjine![45] and shall turn and go.’ The king wondered at this man’s self and words.
“After a little he met his soldiers and went to his palace and sat upon his throne and thus commanded the grand chamber[439]lain, ‘A man clad in black and mounted on a black ass will come, give him leave to enter.’ The next day, early in the morning, that man came, and the grand chamberlain took him and brought him into the king’s presence. When he saw the king he knew that it was he whom he had seen yesterday, and straightway he prayed for the king and asked 10,000 aspres. The king said, ‘May God give it thee.’ The man said, ‘Give 1,000 aspres.’ Again the king answered, ‘May God give it thee.’ The man said, ‘Let it be a hundred aspres.’ Again the king answered, ‘May God give it thee.’ Then the man said, ‘Be thou well; the black ass is tied at the door.’ Thereupon a courtier[46] said, ‘The king has bestowed nothing on thee; let the black ass be.’ The man said, ‘If he has not, then it means, eshegimin durt ayaghi ‘avretinin ferjine! And I shall be off.’ But his boldness pleased the king who said, ‘This poor man’s desire is but to be delivered from distress and find rest, as he got no boon from us he mounts his ass and goes.’ And this remained as a proverb, ‘The black ass is tied at the door.’ However, he bestowed on him somewhat.
“And this story resembles it: A certain khoja was going from Hindustan to Bagdad, and while on the road he thus thought, ‘When I enter the city of Bagdad what goods should I buy?’ Anyhow he entered Bagdad, and there was there a naked abdal[47] who had plucked out his beard and put it in a piece of paper. He came up to the khoja and said, ‘I have heard, O khoja, that thou hast come to buy goods; I have something, buy it.’ And he gave the paper into the khoja’s hand. The khoja took it and opened it and saw in it the hairs of the beard, and he said, ‘What shall I do with this?’ The abdal said, ‘Take it, and give the money.’ The khoja answered, ‘I shall not give money for this.’ The abdal said, ‘Why wilt thou not give money? that is indeed a beard; is it not worth a hundred aspres?’ The khoja replied, ‘It is not.’ The abdal said, ‘Let it be ten aspres; is it not worth that?’ The khoja answered, ‘It is not.’ The abdal said, ‘Let it be five aspres; is it not worth that?’ The khoja said, ‘It is not.’ Then said the abdal, ‘A beard is not worth five aspres; why then dost thou carry one? shave it off and let it go.’ The[440] khoja was pleased with this jest of the abdal and gave him a hundred aspres.
“Now, O king, I have told these stories for that the king may know that it is needful for kings to raise the fallen and bestow favors on the poor.” And he kissed the ground and made intercession for the prince. When the king heard these stories from the vezir he sent the prince to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady asked for news about the youth. The king said, “To-day likewise such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, think not thou this youth would maintain thy place after thee and observe the ordinances of kings. To exercise sovereignty is a hard work. I know that he is no true man; he watches his opportunity, and one day he will slay thee and shed blood, and then they will kill him too. Moreover, family and descent are needful for one; he who is not of family cannot exercise sovereignty. And one’s nature must be good. There are men of family and descent who are yet themselves of evil nature; for there is not honey in every bee nor a pearl in every oyster. Then this youth’s nature is evil; he has not the qualities of a king; his work would ever be wickedness and he would do wrong to those who do good. It is like the story of a certain merchant’s son; mayhap my king has not heard it.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was of old time a cobbler in the city of Orfa. One day he saw a dervish passing, the seams of whose shoes had given way. The cobbler said, ‘Dervish, come, sit down till I sew up the seams of thy shoes and patch the holes.’ The dervish answered, ‘If thou hast a remedy, apply it to the hole in my heart.’ The cobbler gave him his right hand and he came and sat down; and the cobbler gave him food to eat and sewed up the holes in his shoes and said, ‘O dervish, I too wish to journey; what counsel dost thou give me?’ The dervish answered, ‘I have three counsels; see thou keep them:[441] my first is this, set not out on the journey till thou hast found a good fellow-traveller; for the Apostle of God hath said, “The companion, then the road.” My second is this, light not in a waterless place. My third is this, enter great cities when the sun is rising.’ Then he went his way. After some days the cobbler found some suitable fellow-travellers and set out. While they were on the road, one day in the afternoon a city appeared before them. The cobbler youth asked, ‘What city is this city?’ The companions answered, ‘It is the city of Aleppo.’ The youth said, ‘To-day it is near evening; I shall not enter the city to-day.’
“Howsoever the companions urged him, it was no use; so at length they left him and went on. The youth went and lighted on the bank of a stream and remained there that night. Now there were tombs near the youth; and when it was midnight he saw two men coming from the city carrying something which they laid in the graveyard, and then they went away. Then the youth went up to that grave, and, striking a light with a flint and steel, lit a candle; he saw that they had laid there a new coffin, and that from the four sides of that coffin streams of blood were running. The cobbler youth opened the lid of the coffin and looked to see what he might see; there was a body bathed in blood, the garments were of massive gold embroidery and on the finger was a ring in which a stone glittered. The youth coveted the ring and took hold of it that he might pull it off, whereupon the body raised its head and said, ‘O youth, fearest thou not God that thou wouldst take my ring?’ Then the youth saw that it was a girl like the moon of fourteen nights, a torment of the age, like a lovely rose; and he said, ‘What is this plight?’ The girl said, ‘Now is not the time for questions; if thou be able, relieve me; and afterward I will help thine affairs.’
“Straightway the youth pulled off his outer robe and tore it in pieces and bound up the girl’s wounds and laid her in a place. When it was morning he took her on his back and brought her into the city and placed her in a cell in a certain place; and to all who asked of her he said, ‘She is my sister; passion came upon me and I brought this plight upon this poor creature, and she innocent.’ The youth tended the girl’s wounds and in the course of a month or two she became well.[442] One day she went to the bath, and when she returned she asked the youth for inkhorn, reed, and paper. The youth brought them and placed them before her. The girl wrote a letter and gave it into the youth’s hands; and therein was written thus: ‘Thou who art Khoja Dibāb, the superintendent of the bazaar, give the bearer of this letter a hundred sequins and send him to me; and disclose nothing to my father of my health or my death; if thou do, thou shalt reflect well upon the issue.’ She sealed it and said, ‘Go, give this letter to a khoja who sits in such and such a place in the bazaar, and take whatever he gives thee and bring it.’
“The youth took that letter and went to the bazaar and asked, and they showed him to him, and he gave the letter into his hand. When the khoja opened the letter and read it, he kissed it and raised it to his head, and straightway drew forth a purse of gold and gave it to the youth. The youth brought it and laid it before the girl. The girl said, ‘Go, take a house, and buy with what is over clothes for thee and me.’ The youth went and took a house and bought sumptuous clothes and brought them to the girl. And they arose and went to that house which they had taken. Again she wrote a letter which she gave to the youth who took it to the khoja, who this time gave him two purses which he took to the girl. She said to him, ‘Go, my youth, and buy some provisions and furniture for the house.’ And the youth went and bought them. Then the girl got another purse of sequins, and she said to the youth, ‘Go, buy thyself horses and arms and male slaves and female slaves.’ And the youth went and bought them, and he brought them and gave them to the girl, and he said, ‘Now tell me what are these matters.’ The girl answered, ‘Now is not the time, by and bye.’
“Gradually the girl built palaces there and increased the number of her male slaves and female slaves, and whenever she gave the youth a letter he went and got two or three purses of gold from that khoja. One day the girl gave the youth a purse of gold and said, ‘In the bazaar is a youth they call Ghazanfer Agha; now go and find him, and ask of him some precious stuff, and he will show it thee, and whatever price he ask for it, give him the double thereof, and take and bring it.’ So the youth went and found him, and sat a while and[443] talked with him; and whatever the price of it was he gave the double, and took it; and Ghazanfer Agha marvelled at this. The youth returned and gave it to the girl, and again he asked of these matters, but the girl said that this too was not the time. And she took out a purse of jewels and gave it to the youth and said, ‘Take these jewels and go to Ghazanfer Agha and ask him to put a value on them, and take them out and lay them before him, and see what he will say to thee; and when putting the jewels back into the purse present him with three of them.’ So she sent him off. The youth said, ‘I shall go; but when I come back tell me the things that have befallen thee.’ He went and did as the girl had said.
“When Ghazanfer Agha saw these gifts he said to the youth, ‘O youth, thou hast made us ashamed; pray be troubled to come once to our house and honor us that we may show our affection.’ The youth replied, ‘What though it be so; to-morrow I shall go.’ And he bade him farewell and he came and told the girl, and the girl said, ‘Go to-morrow; but when thou enterest his house look not to this side nor that side, but look straight before thee.’ And thus did she warn him. When it was morning the youth arose; and Ghazanfer Agha looked and saw the youth coming and he said, ‘Welcome!’ and took him and led him to his house. And the youth looked at nothing, but passed on and sat down; and Ghazanfer Agha treated and entertained that youth with all manner of delicious foods, and then sent him away. And the youth came and told the girl, and she said, ‘Go again to-morrow and talk with him, and when thou risest, do thou too invite him; and be not jealous.’
“And the youth reflected and said in his heart. ‘This Ghazanfer Agha must be the friend of this girl; anyhow we shall see; whatever God does he does well.’ In the morning he went and invited him, and then came to the girl and gave her word and said, ‘Tell me and let me hear of the matters of that night.’ The girl answered, ‘Now is not the time; go and get these things which are needful.’ The youth went and got them and brought them and gave her them and said, ‘Lo, I have brought them; tell me.’ The girl said, ‘Now is the guest coming, it cannot be; by and bye I will tell thee.’ When Ghazanfer Agha came the youth gave the girl word and she said, ‘Go and[444] meet him, and lead him and bring him here.’ The youth said in his heart, ‘This is not without reason; but wait, we shall see.’ And he led him respectfully, and he entered and sat down with the girl. After that, came foods and they ate and drank and made merry till the evening. Then the girl sent word and the youth came in, and she said, ‘Take care, be it not that thou lettest Ghazanfer Agha leave this evening.’ And the youth said, ‘What is this of thee that thou dost not dismiss him?’ The girl answered, ‘I will tell thee afterward.’ The youth said in his heart, ‘I shall slay the two of you this night.’ And he went out. When it was night Ghazanfer Agha asked leave to go away, but the youth would not let him, and Ghazanfer Agha saw that it was not to be, so he remained; and they brought out a clean coverlet and mattress and made a bed for him. And Ghazanfer Agha lay down, and the youth lay down, but he slept not that he might watch the girl.
“When it was midnight the girl arose and the youth saw her, but he made no sound, and the girl went up close to Ghazanfer Agha. The youth, unable to endure it any longer, rose from his place and said fiercely to the girl, ‘What seekest thou there?’ The girl saw that the youth spake angrily and she took him by the hand and drew him to a place apart and said, ‘I am about to slay this Ghazanfer Agha.’ The youth said, ‘What is the reason of it?’ The girl replied, ‘The reason of it is this: I am the daughter of the king of this land, and this youth was a butcher’s apprentice. One day, when going to the bath, I met this youth selling meat upon the road; as soon as I saw him I fell in love with him, and the bird, my heart, was taken, so that I was without rest and could not remain quiet. I saw there was no help for it, so I got him by force of money, and sometimes I went to his house, and sometimes I had him brought in disguise to my palace. One night I went in disguise to his house, and I saw him sitting conversing with a gipsy, and I got angry and I cursed the two of them. This youth was wont to use the dagger, and he gave me many wounds, and thought me dead and put me in a coffin and sent me with two men who laid me in that tomb thou sawest. Praise be to God! my time was not yet; thou didst come to me like Khizr: now, do thou kill him.’
“The youth said, ‘I shall kill him. Wilt thou marry me[445] according to the ordinance of God?’ She answered, ‘I will not marry thee; but the vezir has a daughter fairer than I, her will I get for thee.’ Then the youth smote him and killed him. The girl said, ‘In the morning go to my father and give him good news; and go to-night and bring here all the possessions of this youth.’ The youth said, ‘To-morrow thy father will bring them.’ When it was morning the youth went and gave the good news to the king. And the king sent slave-girls who brought the girl to the palace. And her mother was glad when she saw her safe and sound.[48] And they confiscated the property of Ghazanfer Agha and bestowed it on that youth.
“But what would the youth do with the wealth? his desire was the girl. The king’s vezirs said, ‘My king, it were right if thou give the girl to the youth.’ The king answered, ‘It is my desire too; for when my daughter disappeared and we sought but could not find her, I made a promise, saying, that to him who brought good news of my daughter I should give her; but the girl does not wish it.’ The vezirs said, ‘My king, our daughters are thine; make this youth thy client; whichever girl thou pleasest, give her to him.’ The king said, ‘I shall make a proposal;’ and he went and spake with her mother. And the girl’s mother went to her and with difficulty persuaded her; and then sent word to the king. That hour they performed the marriage ceremony, and the king made the youth a vezir; and they lived for a long time in joyance and delight.
“O king, I have told this story for that thou mayst know that thy son will not accept counsel, but purposes for thy life. Because that cobbler youth accepted the words of the saints he attained to fortune; and that butcher’s apprentice, for that he was a fool, wounded his benefactress, the king’s daughter; and if the girl had not killed him, he would have made her disgraced before the world. Do thou then, O king, take profit by the tale; beware, spare not this foolish youth, but kill him; else thou shalt be repentant.” When the king heard this story from the lady he said, “To-morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning and the sun had appeared, like as appeared the kindness shown by the king’s daughter to the[446] butcher’s apprentice, and the world was illumined with light, the king passed and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and commanded the executioner, “Smite off his head.” The nineteenth vezir came forward and said, “O king, beware, hurry not in this matter, look to the thought of the hereafter and the way of the Law. The Apostle (peace on him!) saith, ‘God most high maketh wise in the Truth him to whom he wisheth to do good.’ According to this sacred tradition, what is befitting the king is this, that he transgress not the bounds of God. The truth is this, that in this matter the prince is sinless. O king, when can one obtain a son? Slay not thy prince, or grief for thy son will be full hard, and in the end thou shalt be unable to endure it. There is a story suitable to this; if the king grant leave I will relate it.” The king said, “Relate it, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Hasan of Basra[49] (the mercy of God on him!) was in his first estate a seller of jewels. One day he rose up to trade, and came before a king and transacted business, and then he transacted business with the vezir. The vezir said, ‘To-day we go to a pageant at a certain place; wilt thou come with us?’ Hasan answered, ‘Yea, I shall go.’ When the vezir and the king had mounted their steeds, they brought a horse for Hasan likewise, and they all went out of the gate and came to a plain. Hasan saw that in the middle of that plain was a white pavilion, the dome of which reared its head into the air. Then they went up close to that pavilion and all of them alighted. From another side came a procession of people; Hasan of Basra saw that it was a party of doctors and holy men who were carrying their lecterns and copies of the sacred volume. They came and entered that pavilion and recited the Koran with sweet voice; then they came and walked three times round that dome, and then stood at the door and said, ‘O prince, what can we? were there release to thy sweet soul by reading of the Koran, we would, all of us, cease not therefrom day or night; but it is the decree of that almighty King; there is no avail for his command save acquiescence and patience.[447]’
“And they went away. After them came white-bearded elders and devotees reciting chants, and they walked three times round that dome, and then stood at the door and said, ‘O prince, what can we? were there release to thy sweet soul by chant and prayer, we would, all of us, devote ourselves to chant and prayer; but what profit? it is the decree of that almighty King; there is no avail therefor save resignation.’ And they went away. After them came many moon-faced damsels, in the hand of each of whom was a golden dish filled full of all manner of jewels, and they walked three times round that dome, and then stood at the door and said, ‘O prince, what can we? were there release to thy sweet soul by the giving of riches, we would give all these jewels, and we ourselves would become slaves; but what avail? it is the decree of that almighty King, and he hath no need of such things; there is no help for his decree save patience.’
“And they went away. After them came an innumerable army which surrounded that dome, rank on rank, and they said, ‘O prince, were there release to thy sweet soul by battle, night and day would we, all of us, do battle in thy cause; but what avail? it is the decree of that almighty King; there is no help therefor but patience and resignation.’ And they went away. After them came the king the father of that prince, and the vezirs and the nobles, and they walked three times round that dome, and then stood at the door, and the king said, ‘O light of my eyes, darling of my heart, were there release to thy sweet soul to be found by science, I had found it by means of the learned; or were it by gifts and bounties, I had assembled all my army and made war and attained it; but what avail? decree is God’s. He is in want of naught; there is no help save patience and acquiescence in his judgment.’
“And he wept full bitterly, and all the nobles and vezirs wept likewise. When Hasan of Basra saw these things he asked the vezir, ‘What plight is this plight?’ The vezir said, ‘O Hasan, our king had a son: he was in beauty a second Joseph; and in writing, reading, chivalry, and all accomplishments he had no rival; and as he was the king’s only child he loved him very much. One day death spared him not, and he passed to the abiding home. After the wailing and dismay, as there was no help save patience under the heavenly decree,[448] they brought him and buried him in this dome. And once every year they come and thus visit the tomb.’ When Hasan of Basra heard these words from the vezir and saw these things with his eyes, wealth and riches went forth from his eye and heart; and he abandoned the whole of them and turned dervish and donned the khirqa;[50] and now, when his name is mentioned, they add, ‘The mercy of God on him!’
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that grief for children is full bitter. As yet thou hast not felt it, and may God most high not show it thee thus through him. O king, slay not the prince, else afterward thou shalt be repentant and shalt sigh and groan until thou die.” And he made intercession for the prince for that day. When the king heard this story from the vezir compassion came into his heart, and he sent the youth to the prison and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and again the lady rose to greet him, and she sat with the king. After the repast the lady asked for news of the youth. The king said, “To-day likewise such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him, and I have sent him again to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, why dost thou leave my counsel and act according to thine own understanding? Hast not thou heard these words they have said concerning the heedless: ‘Whoso is presumptuous through reason is abased.’ And the sages have said that eight things bring disgrace upon a man: the first is going to dine at a place without invitation, the second is interfering between another and his wife, the third is giving ear to everyone’s words, the fourth is slighting the king, the fifth is setting one’s self above a great man, the sixth is speaking to those who listen not to one’s words, the seventh is begging a favor of an avaricious and indifferent person, and the eighth is going to the enemies’ gate.
“Now, O king, those vezirs interfere between thee and me. Beware, act not according to their words. They have said that he who acts according to a stranger’s word will divorce his wife. Their words are many; and they are forty vezirs, and each one of them for this long time is planning wiles. Mayhap my king has not heard the story of the old gardener and his son.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:[449]
“In the by-gone time an old gardener had mounted his son upon an ass and was proceeding to the garden, himself on foot. They met some men who said, ‘See this old pederast, how he has mounted the boy upon the ass; and is himself running alongside.’ Whenever the old man heard this he made the boy alight and mounted himself. Again they met some other folk, these likewise said, ‘Look at this heartless old man, he rides the ass himself and makes the poor child go on foot.’ Whenever the old man heard this he took his son up in front of him. Then some people saw them and said, ‘See this old pederast, how he has taken the boy up in front of him.’ The old man heard this, and he put his son up behind him. Again certain folks saw them and said, ‘See this old catamite, how he has taken the boy up behind him.’ The old man knew not what to do, so he put his son down and alighted himself and drove the ass before them. The garden was near, and both of them were on foot, and they reached the garden before meeting with any others.
“Now, O king, I have told this story that thou mayst know that no one in the world can escape the tongue of the folk. Each one says a different thing. It is even as when a boil came out on the foot of a certain king who showed it to someone and said, ‘Come, look at this boil; is it ripe or unripe?’ He looked and said, ‘It is ripe.’ Then he showed it to another person, and he said, ‘It is unripe.’ Then the king said, ‘We cannot get sure information concerning even one foot.’ Do thou too, O king, go by no one’s word, lose not the opportunity; no good will come to thee from this youth.” When the king heard this story from the lady he said, “To-morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning the king came and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and ordered the executioner, “Smite off his head.” The twentieth vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, I will speak a good word to thee: all these vezirs who have spoken these many words are well-wishers to thee. The holy Apostle of God hath said, ‘Whoso hath believed in God and the last day; when he witnesseth to aught, let him speak with good or let[450] him be silent,’ Now, what is best for thee in this thy affair is this, as all thy vezirs say, ‘Slay not the prince,’ I too say, have patience, else the end of this will be care and sorrow. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of a certain king.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“Of old time there was a great king. One day, when returning from the chase, he saw a dervish sitting by the way, crying, ‘I have a piece of advice; to him who will give me 1,000 sequins I will tell it.’ When the king heard these words of the dervish he drew in his horse’s head and halted, and he said to the dervish, ‘What is thy counsel?’ The dervish replied, ‘Bring the sequins and give me them that I may tell my counsel.’ The king ordered that they count 1,000 sequins into the dervish’s lap. The dervish said, ‘O king, my advice to thee is this, whenever thou art about to do a deed, consider the end of that deed, and then act.’ The nobles who were present laughed together at these words and said, ‘Anyone knows that.’ But the king rewarded that poor man. He was greatly pleased with the words of the dervish and commanded that they wrote them on the palace gate and other places.
“Now that king had an enemy, a great king; and this hostile king was ever watching his opportunity; but he could find no way save this, he said in himself, ‘Let me go and promise the king’s barber some worldly good and give him a poisoned lancet; some day when the king is sick he can bleed him with that lancet.’ So he disguised himself, and went and gave the barber a poisoned lancet and 10,000 sequins. And the barber was covetous and undertook to bleed the king with that lancet what time it should be needful. One day the king was sick, and he sent word to the barber to come and bleed him. Thereupon the barber took that poisoned lancet with him and went. The attendants prepared the basin, and the barber saw written on the rim of the basin, ‘Whenever thou art about to perform a deed, think on the end thereof.’
“When the barber saw this he said in himself, ‘I am now about to bleed the king with this lancet and doubtless he will perish, then they will not leave me alive, but will inevitably[451] kill me; after I am dead what use will these sequins be to me?’ And he took up that lancet and put it in its place and drew out another lancet that he might bleed the king. When he took his arm a second time, the king said, ‘Why didst thou not bleed me with the first lancet?’ The barber answered, ‘O king, there was some dust on its point.’ Then the king said, ‘I saw it, it is not the treasury lancet; there is some secret here, quick, tell it, else I will slay thee.’ When the barber saw this importunity, he related the story from beginning to end and how he had seen the writing on the basin and changed his intention. The king put a robe of honor on the barber and let him keep the sequins which his enemy had given him. And the king said, ‘The dervish’s counsel is worth not 1,000 sequins but 100,000 sequins.’
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that it is as when the dervish said, ‘Whatsoever deed thou doest, consider the end thereof, then act.’ If thou slay the prince, at last thou shalt be repentant. The rest the king knows.” And he made intercession for the prince. When the king heard these words from the vezir he sent the prince to the prison and himself mounted for the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady again asked for news of the youth. The king said, “To-day such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, it is related of the Caliph Ma’mūn[51] that he said, ‘Four things are hurtful to kings; the first is the nobles being negligent, the second is the ministers being envious, the third is the mean being bold, and the fourth is the vezirs being treacherous.’ And the Moorish sages say, ‘In nobles there is no friendship, in liars there is no fidelity, in the envious there is no peace, in the indifferent there is no generosity, and in the evil-natured there is no greatness.’ O king, these thy vezirs are, like thy traitor son, liars and evil-natured. Thou believest the words of these. The story of thee and this youth altogether resembles the story of those Turkman children.” The king said, “Tell that story, let us hear it.” Quoth the lady:[452]
“Certain Turkmans from an encampment went one day into a city. When they were returning from the city to the encampment they were an hungered, and when they were come near they ate some bread and onions at a spring-head. The juice of the onions went into the Turkmans’ eyes, and the tears came forth from their eyes. Now the children of the Turkmans had gone out to meet them, and they saw that the tears were streaming from their fathers’ eyes and they thought that some one of them had died in the city. So without asking and without knowing, they ran back and came to the encampment and said to their mothers, ‘One of ours is dead in the city, our fathers are coming weeping,’ All the women and children of that encampment came forth to meet them, weeping together. The Turkmans who were coming from the city thought that one of theirs had died in the encampment; so were they without knowledge one of the other, and they raised a weeping and crying together such that it cannot be described.
“At length the elders of the camp stood up in the midst and said, ‘May all ye remain whole; the command is God’s, there is none other help than patience.’ And they questioned them. The Turkmans who were coming from the city asked, ‘Who is dead in the encampment?’ The others said, ‘No one is dead in the encampment; who has died in the city?’ Those coming from the city answered, ‘No one has died in the city.’ They said, ‘Then for whom are we wailing and lamenting?’ At length they perceived that all this tumult arose from their thus trusting the words of children.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that confusion like to that is brought about by youths. What I know is this, if thou slay not the youth he will slay thee.” When the king heard these words from the lady he said, “To-morrow will I kill him.”
When it was morning the king came and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and ordered the executioner, “Smite off his head.” The twenty-first vezir came forward and said, “O king of the world, yesterday, when reading in a book, I saw that they had written that there was a great king in the land of Hindustan, and in his time there was[453] a work on wisdom, and they laded three camels with it and brought it to him. One day the king said to the sages, ‘Abridge this book for me, that I may study it.’ Then all the sages of Hind came together and collected the necessary words from that work and made a book. When the king read it he was pleased. And the words that they wrote were these: ‘O king, be not presumptuous, being deceived by the world; for the world showeth itself like a fair woman and fondleth men in its bosom; and when they are asleep and heedless, of a sudden it woundeth and slayeth them. Knowing of a surety that it is thus, have care if it offer itself to thee, that thou keep thyself from it, so that thou be prosperous. And expend what thou gainest of wealth in the way of God most high, and guard against iniquity, and show forth thy name through generosity, and abandon avarice.
“‘O king, the light of the world is darkness, and its newness is oldness, and its being is non-being. O king, strive that thou save thyself from it; and incline not to the amassing of unlawful wealth, for it will pass from thy hand and be a woe to thee. Strive to collect wealth lawfully, and expend it on good works, and show thyself just among the folk to the utmost of thy power, that all the people of the world may love thee, and that thou be secured against the punishment of God most high. And guard thy faith for the hereafter. And love not women and tell not them thy secrets. O king, be not deceived by womankind; for in body are they weak, but in guile are they strong.’ Now, O king, these counsels are exceeding good counsels, and it behooves the king to keep them; and their saying is true that women are weak in body but strong in guile. Mayhap the king has not heard what befell a certain king with a woman.” The king said, “Relate it, let us hear.” Quoth the vezir:
“There was in the palace of the world a great king, and he had a beautiful wife, such that many a soul dangled in the tresses on her cheek. That lady had a secret affair with a youth, and she used to hide the youth in a chest in the palace. One day that youth said to the lady, ‘If the king were aware of this our work, he would slay the two of us.’ The lady said, ‘Leave that thought, I can do so that I shall hide thee in the[454] chest and say to the king, “Lo, my lover is lying in this chest;” and then, when the king is about to kill thee, I shall make him repentant by one word.’ While the youth and the lady were saying these words, the king came, and the lady straightway put the youth into the chest and locked it. The king said, ‘Why lockest thou that chest thus hastily? What is in the chest?’ The lady answered, ‘By God, it is my lover; I saw thee coming and I put him into the chest and locked it.’ Then was the king wroth, and he bared his sword and thought to slay him who was in the chest, when the lady said, ‘O king, art thou mad, where is gone thine understanding? Am I mad that I should advance a strange man to thy couch and then say to thee, “Lo, he is in the chest?” In truth, I wondered if thou were sincere in thy trust of me, and I tried thee, and now I know that thou thinkest evil concerning me.’ And she ceased and sat in a corner.
“Then did the king repent him of what he had done; and he begged and besought of his wife, saying, ‘Forgive me,’ And he gave her many things, and craved pardon for his fault. When the king had gone out from the harem into the palace the lady took that youth forth of the chest and said, ‘Didst thou see what a trick I played the king?’ And they gave themselves up to mirth and merriment.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that guile and trickery such as this abound in women. O king, beware, slay not the prince on the woman’s word, else afterward thou shalt be repentant, and too late repentance profits not.” And he made intercession for the prince for that day. When the king heard this story from the vezir he sent the prince to the prison and himself mounted for the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady again began to speak about the youth. The king said, “To-day too such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, this youth is ignoble. It is even as when God most high told Noah (peace on him!) of the impurity of his son: said God most high, ‘He is not of thy family; verily, it is a work that is not right.’[52] Then it is known[455] that if a person follow not the way of his father, and be not endowed with the nature of his father, he cannot be called a lawful son. Therefore, when the wise see a fault in others they hinder and cover it, and if they see that fault in themselves they strive to banish it far from them. There is no help for the ignoble that he should follow the path of the noble. Mayhap the king has not heard the story of a certain abdal and a king.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was of old time a great king, and there was by him an abdal. One day the king mounted for the chase, and the abdal said, ‘O king, I am able for soldiering and hunting; give me too horse and gear and bird, that I may go forth with thee to ride about and hunt.’ So the king gave the abdal a horse and gear, and gave him a falcon on his wrist, and took him along with him to the chase, and they went off. While they were riding, the king saw a bird go into a bush, and he said to the abdal, ‘Go, cast the falcon at the bird.’ And the king stood to look on. The abdal went up close to the bush with the falcon, and a man stirred the bush, and the bird came out and flew off. The king said to the abdal, ‘The bird is away, throw off the falcon.’ And the abdal threw off the falcon from his wrist without slipping the leash, and he swung it round and round his head. The king shouted, ‘Out on thee! throw off the falcon!’ The abdal said, ‘O king, I have thrown it off, what am I to do?’ But he left not to swing the falcon round his head. The king shouted, ‘Out on thee! let the falcon go!’ And the abdal let go the leash; but the falcon’s eyes were darkened from its having been turned round, and it could not fly, and fell to the ground. And the king was angry and ill-pleased. Then the abdal said, ‘O king, wherefore art thou angry? thou saidest, “Throw off the falcon,” and I threw it off; then thou saidest, “Let it go,” and I let it go; this falcon knows not how to fly: what fault is mine?’ These words of the abdal were pleasant to the king and he fainted from laughing; and he perceived how no good comes from anything ignoble.[53]
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that no good comes from the ignoble man who follows not the path of his father and mother. Beware, O king, be not negligent in the affair of this youth, or in the end some hurt will befall thee from him; the rest thou knowest.” When the king heard this story from the lady he said, “On the morrow will I kill the youth.”
When it was morning the king came and sat upon his throne, and he caused the youth to be brought and commanded the executioner, “Smite off his head.”
Thus did the king, day after day, order the execution of his innocent son, being temporarily diverted from committing this crime by the stories and wise advice of the forty vezirs, only to be urged again at night to commit the crime by the false accusations of his baffled and revengeful wife.
The story of the fortieth vezir demonstrated how the crafty wife of a tailor played him false and then deceived him with a lying and plausible version of what had happened. After relating this story the fortieth vezir said:
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that tricks like to these and all manner of craftiness abound in women. Beware, slay not the prince on the woman’s word, or afterward thou shalt be repentant.” And he kissed the ground, and made intercession for the prince for that day. And the king granted it, and sent the youth to the prison, and went himself to the chase.
When it was evening the king returned from the chase and came to the palace, and the lady rose to greet him, and they sat down. After the repast the lady asked for news of the youth. The king said, “To-day, too, such an one of my vezirs made intercession for him and I sent him to the prison.” The lady said, “O king, be it known that not one of those vezirs is thy friend; God knows what pact they have with the youth. Mayhap the king has not heard what befel between the Sultan of Egypt and his vezirs.” The king said, “Tell on, let us hear.” Quoth the lady:
“There was of old time in the city of Cairo a great sultan, and he had a youthful son. And that youth made a pact with[457] the vezirs, saying, ‘If ye make me sultan, I will give you leave to do whatever ye may please.’ When they had agreed to this, he sowed enmity between the king and the vezirs and nobles; and each of them rose in revolt in a different quarter, and they took the youth for their chief, and waged war and did battle with the king. The king could not overcome them, and at length they made the youth king. They began to feast with the new king every day, and to accomplish their desires. And the king’s father saw that the purpose of the vezirs and the youth was evil, and he called a confidant, and one night they fled in disguise and entered a cave; and for seven days and seven nights the king went not forth from that cave. The new king heard of his father having fled, and he and the vezirs began to seek him and to send out criers, who proclaimed, ‘Whoso seizes my father and brings him to me, him will I honor.’ And the old king and his courtier went forth from the cave and came to a village, and were guests of an old woman in that village; and that old woman sowed seed. And she bestirred herself to entertain them, and brought them a mat, and they sat down. The king was hungry, and he pulled out a sequin and gave it to the old woman, and said, ‘Mother, go, fetch us food that we may eat.’ The woman said, ‘What will ye do with a sequin’s worth of food?’ The king replied, ‘No harm, fetch it.’ And the woman went and brought all manner of delicacies and set them before the king. And they sat down and ate. After the repast they began to talk with the woman; and the woman said, ‘What youths be ye?’ The king said, ‘We are of the servants of the fugitive king; we are seeking our master.’ The woman said, ‘I fear that ye too are followers of that unworthy youth, and would seize the king and take him.’ The king asked, ‘Does that unworthy youth seek his father?’ The woman replied, ‘Does he seek him? What means that? Those traitor vezirs and nobles every day cause criers to proclaim, “To him who seizes and brings that fugitive sultan we will give the lordship of whatever place he may wish; but of him who conceals him, or in whose house he is found, are the head and family gone.”’
“When the king heard these words from the woman his soul was troubled, and he said to her, ‘And are the nobles also submissive to the youth?’ The woman answered, ‘He has[458] deposed many nobles, and appointed other nobles; these new nobles are all of them submissive to him.’ The king said, ‘Is there any of those old nobles whom thou knowest?’ The woman replied, ‘There is a vezir who was deposed by the fugitive sultan; I go about his house on business—I know him.’ As soon as the king heard this he turned and said to his confidant, ‘What sayest thou, shall I tell this woman that I am the sultan?’ The confidant replied, ‘Command is the king’s.’ The sultan turned and said to the woman, ‘O mother, I have a secret; if I tell it thee, canst thou keep it?’ The woman said, ‘I will give my head, but I will not give your secret,’ The king made the woman swear, and then said, ‘O mother, dost thou know me who I am?’ She answered, ‘Nay,’ Then the king said, ‘Lo, I am the fugitive sultan; be it not that this word escape thy mouth,’ When the woman heard this the blood went from her face, and she fell at the king’s feet. The king said, ‘Hast thou son or daughter?’ She replied, ‘I have a son,’ The king said, ‘If God most high seat me on my throne, I will give thy son whatever lordship he please,’ The woman bowed down and fell at the king’s feet. Then the king said to her, ‘Go now to the house of that vezir, and call him to a private place and salute him from me, and say, “The king is now seated in my house and wants thee, be it not that thou flinchest and comest not.”’
“When it was evening the woman went to the vezir’s house, and took the vezir to a private place, and gave him the king’s greeting, and told him all and how that he was sitting in her house. The vezir was glad, and he said, ‘Do thou now be off, I too will come now;’ and he sent her away. The woman came and told these things to the king. After a little he saw the vezir in the dress of an Arab, and he came and fell at the king’s feet and mourned and wept. The king said, ‘O vezir, I wronged thee and took thy wealth and deposed thee; ah! the past is past, the gone is gone. Befriend me as much as in thee lies, and if God most high raise me to my throne, I know the honor I will do thee.’ The vezir said, ‘O king, if thou tookest my wealth, it was thine own wealth; if thou didst depose me, I was thy slave and had done wrong; thou didst well. Now this is the way, that thou follow my words and lay aside kingship till our plan be accomplished; if afterward[459] thou art wroth with me, then command; now let us work.’ The king said, ‘Do what thou wilt; now is not the time for words.’ The vezir said, ‘O king, arise and take my lamp in thine hand, and go on through the desert before thee till thou comest to my house; if anyone see thee he will think thee my man and recognize thee not.’ The king took the vezir’s lamp in his hand, and they went on and passed through the bazaars of Cairo, and came to the vezir’s house; and the vezir prepared a private room for the king.
“The king remained there some days, and the vezir secretly sent word to all the great nobles who had been deposed, and assembled them. And one night he brought them to the king and reconciled them, and said, ‘On the morrow be ye ready and show zeal each one of you for his estate.’ That night they gathered together all the disbanded soldiers who were there; and when it was morning they beat the kettledrums on every side, and ere those traitor nobles and vezirs had arisen they put many of them to the sword; and they seized the king’s son and all the rest of his vezirs, and brought them before the king. And the king executed the whole of them, slaying each of them with a different torment. Thenceforth he sat upon his throne with tranquillity of heart, and enjoyed happiness and delight.
“Now, O king, I have told this story for that the king may know that vezirs are not to be altogether trusted; and be thou ready, for these vezirs purpose evil against the king, and the like of this story shall befall thee. I have watched for my king and told him. And I know of a surety that they have made a pact if left till the morrow to seat the youth upon the throne, and to seize thee and to give thee into the youth’s hands. God knows what will happen to ill-fortuned me. Woe is me!” And she wept full bitterly. When the king heard this story from the lady, and beheld this plight, he believed the lady’s words, and held them to be true; and fear for his life fell upon the king. He said: “O lady, weep not; on the morrow will I seize the whole of the vezirs, and, after I have put the youth to death, I will give to each of them, one by one, his due.” When the lady heard these words from the king she was glad, and said, “O king, when thou hast slain the whole of them, appoint nobles vezirs in their stead, and then[460] lean thy back against the wall of retirement, and give thyself up to mirth and merriment: till thou hast done thus thou shalt not be at ease.” And the king consented to this proposal, and they passed that night till the morning conversing.
When it was morning the king was wrathful, and he came and sat upon his throne, and he said, “Where is the youth? let him come.” They brought him, and the king said, “Ask ye him if he confesses to the charge of his mother.” Thereupon the grand vezir said, “Let him come before you and be asked, and it will be well; bring him, let us ask him.” The king commanded that they brought him, and he said, “Youth, speak; how hast thou done by thy mother?” The youth was silent. The king turned and said, “Be not silent, there is leave to thee, speak.” The youth was silent. Again the grand vezir said, “Perchance his governor might make him tell.”
Straightway the king commanded that they should bring his governor; and they sought him but found him not, and came and told the king. The king said, “This day it is needful to make manifest my justice; let the executioner come.” He came; and the king commanded, saying, “Take the youth and all those vezirs; and kill them.” And they took the whole of them from the presence of the king; and they made clean the judgment-square and sprinkled it with sand. And they made the vezirs sit down by tens, and they brought the youth too. Then the executioner set the prince upon his knees and bound his eyes, and he drew his sword from its scabbard and bared it, and said, “Is there leave, O king? In thy glory is my arm strong and my sword keen. The cut-off head grows not again, and too late repentance profits not.” And he went twice round the divan and asked leave of the king; and the king commanded him, saying, “Smite off his head.” The executioner went round the divan once more, and as he was again asking leave of the king, the bearer of glad tidings came, crying, “The prince’s governor comes!” The king said, “Quick, seize and bring him.”
Forthwith the slaves brought the governor, not letting his feet touch the ground. When the king saw the governor he[461] was wroth, and said, “Kill him!” The governor said, “O king, wherefore art thou angry? If it be thy desire to make the youth speak, bring him and let him speak.” Quoth the king, “Is it thou who saidest to the youth, ‘Speak not’?” The governor answered, “Yea.” The king said, “Why?” The governor said, “O king of the world, I saw the prince’s ruling star in the astrolabe that for forty days it was in evil aspect, such evil aspect that if he uttered the least word he should perish, but that if he spake not he should escape. I taught him a Name, and charged him straitly that he should not speak the least word. Now is the time accomplished, and I am come; command that they bring him, and I shall give him leave to speak.” The king commanded that they brought the youth, and the governor said, “My prince, be my life a ransom for thy father and for thee! Praise be to God! the evil aspect of thy star is accomplished; loose thy nightingale tongue and speak; what is this plight?”
Straightway the youth said, “In the name of God!” And he related what befell him with the lady from its beginning to its end; and then he fell upon the ground and began to weep. And the king put his finger to his mouth and wondered. And the members of the divan marvelled at this deed of the woman, and they said, “The prince’s words are with reason and truth, and such like trickery comes from womankind.”
Then the king asked the slave-girls, and they bare witness that they had been behind the wall and had heard the thing, and that the prince spake truly. And the king saw that the right was the prince’s, and he repented him of what he had done. And he besought pardon, and kissed the prince’s two eyes, and pressed him to his heart and wept full bitterly. And straightway he commanded that they bring the vezirs; and the king made many excuses to them, and clad each of them in sumptuous robes, and bestowed boundless gifts and favors upon them, and begged forgiveness of all of them. And the vezirs said, “My king, whatsoever cruelty and injustice thou hast done us, be it all forgiven thee; our fear was lest thou should slay the prince, acting on the woman’s word; for our vezirship is by the health and safety of our king and our prince; and their existence is a mercy to the world; after they were perished the perishing of the whole of us were a thing assured.[462]” And they all kissed the ground together, and asked for retribution on the woman.
And the king commanded that they bring a wild ass; and they took the lady to the square of judgment and set her upon that ass, and bound her fast to his tail and legs, and took her forth to the desert. And they smote the ass with a whip, and the ass began to gallop and the woman fell from his back to the ground; and the wild ass looked, and when he saw the woman behind him he shied and ran off. And the woman was torn into pieces small even as her ear, and left upon the shrubs and stones. Thus that which she had purposed against the prince befel herself. The sires say, “Wish good that good may come to thee: if thou dig a pit for another, dig it deep; for it is like thou shalt fall therein thyself; then thou needest not trouble trying to get out.” And from that time has the saying been among the folk, “May I see thee on the ass!” After that the king summoned all the vezirs and the nobles and the commonalty, and he made a great feast with all manner of minstrels and music, and for forty days and forty nights they feasted and made merry gratefully. And then they lived for many years, and did justice and dealt with equity.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] A fabulous bird, a species of vulture or gigantic condor.
[2] Drugs.
[3] Koran, lii. 15.
[4] Ib. xii. 31.
[5] Not necessarily a Chinese woman, simply a beauty; China and Chinese Tartary being regarded as pre-eminent for the beauty of their women.
[6] A term of endearment.
[7] Probably he was afraid lest the king should put him to death for giving such bad news.
[8] The Prophet Mahomet.
[9] I.e., beautiful.
[10] Koran, iv. 94.
[11] As servants do.
[12] In the time of Murad II an aspre was worth about 2½d. stg. Turkish sequins were not struck till the time of his successor, Mahomet II, when they were equivalent to about 12s. 6d. Foreign gold coins, especially Venetian, were used previously.
[13] Qāf is the name of a fabled mountain chain, formerly supposed to encircle the world: “the castle” is simply a metaphor for the mountain peaks.
[14] This famous speech is usually attributed to ‘Omar, the second caliph.
[15] Bal’am-bin-Bā’ūr.
[16] ‘Uj-bin-‘Unuq. He is said, in the Talmud, to have been a monstrous giant. The ‘Adīs, we are told, were from sixty to one hundred cubits high. Compare Numbers xiii. 33.
[17] Koran, v. 29.
[18] Koran, vii. 175.
[19] A mysterious being, of the number of the prophets, who appears to and aids Moslems in distress; he is frequently mentioned in Mahometan fiction, where he plays a part similar to that of Elijah in the Talmud.
[20] Compare Boethius thus translated by Chaucer: All thynges seken ayen to hir propre course, and all thyngs rejoysen on hir retourninge agayne to hir nature.
[21] The emerald was supposed to have the effect of blinding snakes when they looked upon it.
[22] There is an Eastern myth to that effect.
[23] Joseph is the type of youthful beauty.
[24] A fabulous bird of great size. Solomon, it should be said, according to the Talmudic and Koranic legends, was acquainted with the language of beasts and birds, with whom he used often to converse.
[25] Koran, iii. 128.
[26] The celebrated Caliph of Bagdad, and hero of so many of the stories in the “Thousand and One Nights.”
[27] Koran, iii. 128.
[28] D’Herbelot relates the same story in his “Bibliothèque Orientale,” but substitutes Hasan son of ‘Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law, for Harun-er-Reshid.
[29] Bāyezīd of Bestam was a famous saint who, according to Ibn-Khallikān, died in 261 or 264 (A.D. 875 or 878).
[30] One of the most famous kings of pre-Islamitic Persia, he reigned from A.D. 531 to 579.
[31] The Cubical (House), i.e., the Sacred Temple at Mecca.
[32] One of the ceremonies performed by the pilgrims at Mecca.
[33] For a description of it see Captain Burton’s “Pilgrimage,” vol. iii, p. 164.
[34] Such as is required by the Mahometan law in case of a triple divorce.
[35] Koran, xxi. 23.
[36] Koran, xxvii. 66.
[37] The ram is a type of courage.
[38] A legendary sage. He here pretends to kill the boy, that the king may recover through joy on finding his son alive.
[39] An adherent of the Shī’a sect, which acknowledges ‘Alī, but rejects Abu-Bekr, ‘Othmān and ‘Omar as lawful caliphs.
[40] So the point of this story turns upon an untranslatable pun.
[41] Koran, viii. 128, and lxiv. 15.
[42] To prevent their spreading the report of the king’s disappearance.
[43] Sultan Mahmūd, the son of Sebuktekīn, of Ghazni.
[44] Hasan of Maymand was a minister, not of Sultan Mahmūd, but of that monarch’s father. Hasan’s son, Ahmed, was Mahmūd’s vezir.
[45] I have thought it best to leave the uncivil remark of the owner of the black ass in the inimitable simplicity of the uncivil remark of the original.
[46] In Belletēte this courtier is said to be Firdausī of Tūs, and he is made to tell Mahmūd the following story of the khoja and the abdal, for which the Sultan rewards him with a purse of gold.
[47] A kind of religious mendicant.
[48] The original is somewhat more explicit here; Vālidesi qizin muhrini teftīsh eyledi, chun muhrini muhrlu buldi, qizin iki guzinden updi.
[49] Hasan of Basra was a very pious and learned man. He died in 110 (A.D. 728).
[50] The dervish’s cloak.
[51] El-Ma’mūn, the son of Hārūn-er-Reshīd, was proclaimed caliph in 198 (A.D. 813); he died in 218 (A.D. 833).
[52] Koran, xi. 48.
[53] The point of this story is lost in the translation. To let fly a falcon at game, is, in Turkish, to swing a falcon; the king says to the abdal, “Swing the falcon,” meaning, let it fly at the bird; but the abdal understands him literally, and swings the falcon round his head.