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Title: The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 03
Author: Richard F. Burton, - To be updated
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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                        THE BOOK OF THE
                  THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT
                A Plain and Literal Translation
              of the Arabian Nights Entertainments

                  Translated and Annotated by
                       Richard F. Burton

                          VOLUME THREE
              Privately Printed By The Burton Club



                    Inscribed to the Memory
                               of
                            A Friend
                              Who
            During A Friendship of Twenty-Six Years
                    Ever Showed Me The Most
                      Unwearied Kindness,
                    Richard Monckton Milnes
                        Baron Houghton.


                  Contents of the Third Volume


The Tale of King Omar Bin Al-Nu'uman and His Sons Sharrkan and
Zau Al-Makan (cont)
          aa.  Continuation of the Tale of Aziz and Azizah
     b.   Tale of the Hashish Eater
     c.   Tale of Hammad the Badawi
10.  The Birds and Beasts and the Carpenter
11.  The Hermits
12.  The Water-Fowl and the Tortoise
13.  The Wolf and the Fox
     a.   Tale of the Falcon and the Partridge
14.  The Mouse and the Ichneumon
15.  The Cat and the Crow
16.  The Fox and the Crow
     a.   The Flea and the Mouse
     b.   The Saker and the Birds
     c.   The Sparrow and the Eagle
17.  The Hedgehog and the Wood Pigeons
     a.   The Merchant and the Two Sharpers
18.  The Thief and His Monkey
     a.   The Foolish Weaver
19.  The Sparrow and the Peacock
20.  Ali Bin Bakkar and Shams Al-Nahar
21.  Tale of Kamar Al-Zaman



                        The Book Of The
                  THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT



       When it was the One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Night

Shahrazad continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that
Aziz pursued to Taj al-Muluk: Then I entered the flower garden
and made for the pavilion, where I found the daughter of Dalilah
the Wily One, sitting with head on knee and hand to cheek.  Her
colour was changed and her eyes were sunken; but, when she saw
me, she exclaimed, "Praised be Allah for thy safety!" And she was
minded to rise but fell down for joy.  I was abashed before her
and hung my head; presently, however, I went up to her and kissed
her and asked, "How knewest thou that I should come to thee this
very night?" She answered, "I knew it not!  By Allah, this whole
year past I have not tasted the taste of sleep, but have watched
through every night, expecting thee; and such hath been my case
since the day thou wentest out from me and I gave thee the new
suit of clothes, and thou promisedst me to go to the Hammam and
to come back!  So I sat awaiting thee that night and a second
night and a third night; but thou camest not till after so great
delay, and I ever expecting thy coming; for this is lovers' way.
And now I would have thee tell me what hath been the cause of
thine absence from me the past year long?" So I told her.  And
when she knew that I was married, her colour waxed yellow, and I
added, "I have come to thee this night but I must leave thee
before day." Quoth she, "Doth it not suffice her that she tricked
thee into marrying her and kept thee prisoner with her a whole
year, but she must also make thee swear by the oath of divorce,
that thou wilt return to her on the same night before morning,
and not allow thee to divert thyself with thy mother or me, nor
suffer thee to pass one night with either of us, away from her?
How then must it be with one from whom thou hast been absent a
full year, and I knew thee before she did?  But Allah have mercy
on thy cousin Azizah, for there befel her what never befel any
and she bore what none other ever bore and she died by thy ill
usage; yet 'twas she who protected thee against me.  Indeed, I
thought thou didst love me, so I let thee take thine own way;
else had I not suffered thee to go safe in a sound skin, when I
had it in my power to clap thee in jail and even to slay thee."
Then she wept with sore weeping and waxed wroth and shuddered in
my face with skin bristling[FN#1] and looked at me with furious
eyes.  When I saw her in this case I was terrified at her and my
side muscles trembled and quivered, for she was like a dreadful
she Ghul, an ogress in ire, and I like a bean over the fire.
Then said she, "Thou art of no use to me, now thou art married
and hast a child; nor art thou any longer fit for my company; I
care only for bachelors and not for married men:[FN#2] these
profit us nothing Thou hast sold me for yonder stinking armful;
but, by Allah, I will make the whore's heart ache for thee, and
thou shalt not live either for me or for her!" Then she cried a
loud cry and, ere I could think, up came the slave girls and
threw me on the ground; and when I was helpless under their hands
she rose and, taking a knife, said, "I will cut thy throat as
they slaughter he goats; and that will be less than thy desert,
for thy doings to me and the daughter of thy uncle before me."
When I looked to my life and found myself at the mercy of her
slave women, with my cheeks dust soiled, and saw her sharpen the
knife, I made sure of death.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Twenty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan thus continued his tale to Zau al-Makan: Then quoth the
youth Aziz to Taj al-Muluk, Now when I found my life at the mercy
of her slave women with my cheeks dust soiled, and I saw her
sharpen the knife, I made sure of death and cried out to her for
mercy.  But she only redoubled in ferocity and ordered the slave
girls to pinion my hands behind me, which they did; and, throwing
me on my back, she seated herself on my middle and held down my
head.  Then two of them came up and squatted on my shin bones,
whilst other two grasped my hands and arms; and she summoned a
third pair and bade them beat me.  So they beat me till I fainted
and my voice failed.  When I revived, I said to myself, " 'Twere
easier and better for me to have my gullet slit than to be beaten
on this wise!" And I remembered the words of my cousin, and how
she used to say to me, "Allah, keep thee from her mischief!"; and
I shrieked and wept till my voice failed and I remained without
power to breathe or to move.  Then she again whetted the knife
and said to the slave girls, "Uncover him." Upon this the Lord
inspired me to repeat to her the two phrases my cousin had taught
me, and had bequeathed to me, and I said, "O my lady, dost thou
not know that Faith is fair, Unfaith is foul?" When she heard
this, she cried out and said, "Allah pity thee, Azizah, and give
thee Paradise in exchange for thy wasted youth!  By Allah, of a
truth she served thee in her life time and after her death, and
now she hath saved thee alive out of my hands with these two
saws.  Nevertheless, I cannot by any means leave thee thus, but
needs must I set my mark on thee, to spite yonder brazen faced
piece, who hath kept thee from me." There upon she called out to
the slave women and bade them bind my feet with cords and then
said to them, "Take seat on him!" They did her bidding, upon
which she arose and fetched a pan of copper and hung it over the
brazier and poured into it oil of sesame, in which she fried
cheese.[FN#3] Then she came up to me (and I still insensible)
and, unfastening my bag trousers, tied a cord round my testicles
and, giving it to two of her women, bade them trawl at it.  They
did so, and I swooned away and was for excess of pain in a world
other than this.  Then she came with a razor of steel and cut off
my member masculine,[FN#4] so that I remained like a woman: after
which she seared the wound with the boiling and rubbed it with a
powder, and I the while unconscious.  Now when I came to myself,
the blood had stopped; so she bade the slave girls unbind me and
made me drink a cup of wine.  Then said she to me, "Go now to her
whom thou hast married and who grudged me a single night, and the
mercy of Allah be on thy cousin Azizah, who saved thy life and
never told her secret love!  Indeed, haddest thou not repeated
those words to me, I had surely slit thy weasand.  Go forth this
instant to whom thou wilt, for I needed naught of thee save what
I have just cut off; and now I have no part in thee, nor have I
any further want of thee or care for thee.  So begone about thy
business and rub thy head[FN#5] and implore mercy for the
daughter of thine uncle!" Thereupon she kicked me with her foot
and I rose, hardly able to walk; and I went, little by little,
till I came to the door of our house.  I saw it was open, so I
threw myself within it and fell down in a fainting fit; whereupon
my wife came out and lifting me up, carried me into the saloon
and assured herself that I had become like a woman.  Then I fell
into a sleep and a deep sleep; and when I awoke, I found myself
thrown down at the garden gate,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

     When it was the One Hundred and Twenty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan pursued to King Zau al-Makan, The youth Aziz thus
continued his story to Taj al-Muluk: When I awoke and found
myself thrown down at the garden gate, I rose, groaning for pain
and misery, and made my way to our home and entering, I came upon
my mother weeping for me, and saying, "Would I knew, O my son, in
what land art thou?" So I drew near and threw myself upon her,
and when she looked at me and felt me, she knew that I was ill;
for my face was coloured black and tan.  Then I thought of my
cousin and all the kind offices she had been wont to do me, and I
learned when too late that she had truly loved me; so I wept for
her and my mother wept also Presently she said to me, "O my son,
thy sire is dead." At this my fury against Fate redoubled, and I
cried till I fell into a fit.  When I came to myself, I looked at
the place where my cousin Azizah had been used to sit and shed
tears anew, till I all but fainted once more for excess of
weeping; and I ceased not to cry and sob and wail till midnight,
when my mother said to me, "Thy father hath been dead these ten
days." "I shall never think of any one but my cousin Azizah,"
replied I; "and indeed I deserve all that hath befallen me, for
that I neglected her who loved me with love so dear." Asked she,
"What hath befallen thee?" So I told her all that had happened
and she wept awhile, then she rose and set some matter of meat
and drink before me.  I ate a little and drank, after which I
repeated my story to her, and told her the whole occurrence;
whereupon she exclaimed, "Praised be Allah, that she did but this
to thee and forbore to slaughter thee!" Then she nursed me and
medicined me till I regained my health; and, when my recovery was
complete, she said to me, "O my son, I will now bring out to thee
that which thy cousin committed to me in trust for thee; for it
is thine.  She swore me not to give it thee, till I should see
thee recalling her to mind and weeping over her and thy
connection severed from other than herself; and now I know that
these conditions are fulfilled in thee." So she arose, and
opening a chest, took out this piece of linen, with the figures
of gazelles worked thereon, which I had given to Azizah in time
past; and taking it I found written therein these couplets,

"Lady of beauty, say, who taught thee hard and harsh design, *
     To slay with longing Love's excess this hapless lover thine?
An thou fain disremember me beyond our parting day, * Allah will
     know, that thee and thee my memory never shall tyne.
Thou blamest me with bitter speech yet sweetest 'tis to me; *
     Wilt generous be and deign one day to show of love a sign?
I had not reckoned Love contained so much of pine and pain; *
     And soul distress until I came for thee to pain and pine
Never my heart knew weariness, until that eve I fell * In love
     wi' thee, and prostrate fell before those glancing eyne!
My very foes have mercy on my case and moan therefor; * But thou,
     O heart of Indian steel, all mercy dost decline.
No, never will I be consoled, by Allah, an I die, * Nor yet
     forget the love of thee though life in ruins lie!"

When I read these couplets, I wept with sore weeping and buffeted
my face; then I unfolded the scroll, and there fell from it an
other paper.  I opened it and behold, I found written therein,
'Know, O son of my uncle, that I acquit thee of my blood and I
beseech Allah to make accord between thee and her whom thou
lovest; but if aught befal thee through the daughter of Dalilah
the Wily, return thou not to her neither resort to any other
woman and patiently bear thine affliction, for were not thy fated
life tide a long life, thou hadst perished long ago; but praised
be Allah who hath appointed my death day before thine!  My peace
be upon thee; preserve this cloth with the gazelles herein
figured and let it not leave thee, for it was my companion when
thou was absent from me;"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Twenty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan pursued to King Zau al-Makan, And the youth Aziz continued
to Taj al-Muluk: So I read what my cousin had written and the
charge to me which was, "Preserve this cloth with the gazelles
and let it not leave thee, for it was my companion when thou west
absent from me and, Allah upon thee!  if thou chance to fall in
with her who worked these gazelles, hold aloof from her and do
not let her approach thee nor marry her; and if thou happen not
on her and find no way to her, look thou consort not with any of
her sex.  Know that she who wrought these gazelles worketh every
year a gazelle cloth and despatcheth it to far countries, that
her report and the beauty of her broidery, which none in the
world can match, may be bruited abroad.  As for thy beloved, the
daughter of Dalilah the Wily, this cloth came to her hand, and
she used to ensnare folk with it, showing it to them and saying,
'I have a sister who wrought this.' But she lied in so saying,
Allah rend her veil!  This is my parting counsel; and I have not
charged thee with this charge, but because I know[FN#6] that
after my death the world will be straitened on thee and, haply,
by reason of this, thou wilt leave thy native land and wander in
foreign parts, and hearing of her who wrought these figures, thou
mayest be minded to fore gather with her.  Then wilt thou
remember me, when the memory shall not avail thee; nor wilt thou
know my worth till after my death.  And, lastly, learn that she
who wrought the gazelles is the daughter of the King of the
Camphor Islands and a lady of the noblest." Now when I had read
that scroll and understood what was written therein, I fell again
to weeping, and my mother wept because I wept, and I ceased not
to gaze upon it and to shed tears till night fall.  I abode in
this condition a whole year, at the end of which the merchants,
with whom I am in this cafilah, prepared to set out from my
native town; and my mother counseled me to equip myself and
journey with them, so haply I might be consoled and my sorrow be
dispelled, saying, "Take comfort and put away from thee this
mourning and travel for a year or two or three, till the caravan
return, when perhaps thy breast may be broadened and thy heart
heartened." And she ceased not to persuade me with endearing
words, till I provided myself with merchandise and set out with
the caravan.  But all the time of my wayfaring, my tears have
never dried; no, never!  and at every halting place where we
halt, I open this piece of linen and look on these gazelles and
call to mind my cousin Azizah and weep for her as thou hast seen;
for indeed she loved me with dearest love and died, oppressed by
my unlove.  I did her nought but ill and she did me nought but
good.  When these merchants return from their journey, I shall
return with them, by which time I shall have been absent a whole
year: yet hath my sorrow waxed greater and my grief and
affliction were but increased by my visit to the Islands of
Camphor and the Castle of Crystal.  Now these islands are seven
in number and are ruled by a King, by name Shahriman,[FN#7] who
hath a daughter called Dunyá;[FN#8] and I was told that it was
she who wrought these gazelles and that this piece in my
possession was of her embroidery.  When I knew this, my yearning
redoubled and I burnt with the slow fire of pining and was
drowned in the sea of sad thought; and I wept over myself for
that I was become even as a woman, without manly tool like other
men, and there was no help for it.  From the day of my quitting
the Camphor Islands, I have been tearful eyed and heavy hearted,
and such hath been my case for a long while and I know not
whether it will be given me to return to my native land and die
beside my mother or not; for I am sick from eating too much of
the world.  Thereupon the young merchant wept and groaned and
complained and gazed upon the gazelles; whilst the tears rolled
down his cheeks in streams and he repeated these two couplets,

"Joy needs shall come," a prattler 'gan to prattle: *
     "Needs cease thy blame!" I was commoved to rattle:
'In time,' quoth he: quoth I ' 'Tis marvellous!  *
     Who shall ensure my life, O cold of tattle!'"[FN#9]

And he repeated also these,

"Well Allah weets that since our severance day *
     I've wept till forced to ask of tears a loan:
'Patience!  (the blamer cries): thou'lt have her yet!' *
     Quoth I, 'O blamer where may patience wone?'"

Then said he, "This, O King!  is my tale: hast thou ever heard
one stranger?" So Taj al-Muluk marvelled with great marvel at the
young merchant's story, and fire darted into his entrails on
hearing the name of the Lady Dunya and her loveliness.--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Twenty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: Now when Taj al-Muluk heard the
story of the young merchant, he marvelled with great marvel and
fire darted into his entrails on hearing the name of the Lady
Dunya who, as he knew, had embroidered the gazelles; and his love
and longing hourly grew, so he said to the youth, "By Allah, that
hath befallen thee whose like never befel any save thyself, but
thou hast a life term appointed, which thou must fulfil; and now
I would fain ask of thee a question." Quoth Aziz, "And what is
it?" Quoth he, "Wilt thou tell me how thou sawest the young lady
who wrought these gazelles?" Then he, "O my lord, I got me access
to her by a sleight and it was this.  When I entered her city
with the caravan, I went forth and wandered about the garths till
I came to a flower garden abounding in trees, whose keeper was a
venerable old man, a Shaykh stricken in years.  I addressed him,
saying, 'O ancient sir, whose may be this garden?' and he
replied, 'It belongs to the King's daughter, the Lady Dunya.  We
are now beneath her palace and, when she is minded to amuse
herself, she openeth the private wicket and walketh in the garden
and smelleth the fragrance of the flowers.' So I said to him,
'Favour me by allowing me to sit in this garden till she come;
haply I may enjoy a sight of her as she passeth.' The Shaykh
answered, 'There can be no harm in that.' Thereupon I gave him a
dirham or so and said to him, Buy us something to eat.' He took
the money gladly and opened door and, entering himself, admitted
me into the garden, where we strolled and ceased not strolling
till we reached a pleasant spot in which he bade me sit down and
await his going and his returning.  Then he brought me somewhat
of fruit and, leaving me, disappeared for an hour; but after a
while he returned to me bringing a roasted lamb, of which we ate
till we had eaten enough, my heart yearning the while for a sight
of the lady.  Presently, as we sat, the postern opened and the
keeper said to me, 'Rise and hide thee.' I did so; and behold, a
black eunuch put his head out through the garden wicket and
asked, 'O Shaykh, there any one with thee?' 'No,' answered he;
and the eunuch said, 'Shut the garden gate.' So the keeper shut
the gate, and lo!  the Lady Dunya came in by the private door.
When I saw her, methought the moon had risen above the horizon
and was shining; I looked at her a full hour and longed for her
as one athirst longeth for water.  After a while she withdrew and
shut the door; whereupon I left the garden and sought my lodging,
knowing that I could not get at her and that I was no man for
her, more especially as I was become like a woman, having no
manly tool: moreover she was a King's daughter and I but a
merchant man; so; how could I have access to the like of her or--
to any other woman?  Accordingly, when these my companions made
ready for the road, I also made preparation and set out with
them, and we journeyed towards this city till we arrived at the
place ere we met with thee.  Thou askedst me and I have answered;
and these are my adventures and peace be with thee!" Now when Taj
al-Muluk heard that account, fires raged in his bosom and his
heart and thought were occupied love for the Lady Dunya; and
passion and longing were sore upon him.  Then he arose and
mounted horse and, taking Aziz with him, returned to his father's
capital, where he settled him in a separate house and supplied
him with all he needed in the way of meat and drink and dress.
Then he left him and returned to his palace, with the tears
trickling down his cheeks, for hearing oftentimes standeth
instead of seeing and knowing.[FN#10]  And he ceased not to be in
this state till his father came in to him and finding him wan
faced, lean of limb and tearful eyed, knew that something had
occurred to chagrin him and said, "O my son, acquaint me with thy
case and tell me what hath befallen thee, that thy colour is
changed and thy body is wasted.  So he told him all that had
passed and what tale he had heard of Aziz and the account of the
Princess Dunya; and how he had fallen in love of her on hearsay,
without having set eyes on her.  Quoth his sire, "O my son, she
is the daughter of a King whose land is far from ours: so put
away this thought and go in to thy mother's palace."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

        When it was the One Hundred and Thirtieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: And the father of Taj al-Muluk
spake to him on this wise, "O my son, her father is a King whose
land is far from ours: so put away this thought and go into thy
mother's palace where are five hundred maidens like moons, and
whichsoever of them pleaseth thee, take her; or else we will seek
for thee in marriage some one of the King's daughters, fairer
than the Lady Dunya." Answered Taj al-Muluk, "O my father, I
desire none other, for she it is who wrought the gazelles which I
saw, and there is no help but that I have her; else I will flee
into the world and the waste and I will slay myself for her
sake." Then said his father, "Have patience with me, till I send
to her sire and demand her in marriage, and win thee thy wish as
I did for myself with thy mother.  Haply Allah will bring thee to
thy desire; and, if her parent will not consent, I will make his
kingdom quake under him with an army, whose rear shall be with me
whilst its van shall be upon him." Then he sent for the youth
Aziz and asked him, "O my son, tell me dost thou know the way to
the Camphor Islands?" He answered "Yes"; and the King said, "I
desire of thee that thou fare with my Wazir thither." Replied
Aziz, "I hear and I obey, O King of the Age!"; where upon the
King summoned his Minister and said to him, "Devise me some
device, whereby my son's affair may be rightly managed and fare
thou forth to the Camphor Islands and demand of their King his
daughter in marriage for my son, Taj al-Muluk." The Wazir
replied, "Hearkening and obedience." Then Taj al-Muluk returned
to his dwelling place and his love and longing redoubled and the
delay seemed endless to him; and when the night darkened around
him, he wept and sighed and complained and repeated this poetry,

"Dark falls the night: my tears unaided rail * And fiercest
     flames of love my heart assail:
Ask thou the nights of me, and they shall tell * An I find aught
     to do but weep and wail:
Night long awake, I watch the stars what while * Pour down my
     cheeks the tears like dropping hail:
And lone and lorn I'm grown with none to aid; * For kith and kin
     the love lost lover fail."

And when he had ended his reciting he swooned away and did not
recover his senses till the morning, at which time there came to
him one of his father's eunuchs and, standing at his head,
summoned him to the King's presence.  So he went with him and his
father, seeing that his pallor had increased, exhorted him to
patience and promised him union with her he loved.  Then he
equipped Aziz and the Wazir and supplied them with presents; and
they set out and fared on day and night till they drew near the
Isles of Camphor, where they halted on the banks of a stream, and
the Minister despatched a messenger to acquaint the King of his
arrival.  The messenger hurried forwards and had not been gone
more than an hour, before they saw the King's Chamberlains and
Emirs advancing towards them, to meet them at a parasang's
distance from the city and escort them into the royal presence.
They laid their gifts before the King and became his guests for
three days.  And on the fourth day the Wazir rose and going in to
the King, stood between his hands and acquainted him with the
object which induced his visit; whereat he was perplexed for an
answer inasmuch as his daughter misliked men and disliked
marriage.  So he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then raised
it and calling one of his eunuchs, said to him, "Go to thy
mistress, the Lady Dunya, and repeat to her what thou hast heard
and the purport of this Wazir's coming." So the eunuch went forth
and returning after a time, said to the King, "O King of the Age,
when I went in to the Lady Dunya and told her what I had heard,
she was wroth with exceeding wrath and rose at me with a staff
designing to break my head; so I fled from her, and she said to
me 'If my Father force me to wed him, whomsoever I wed I will
slay.' Then said her sire to the Wazir and Aziz, "Ye have heard,
and now ye know all!  So let your King wot of it and give him my
salutations and say that my daughter misliketh men and disliketh
marriage."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King
Shahriman thus addressed the Wazir and Aziz, "Salute your King
from me and inform him of what ye have heard, namely that my
daughter misliketh marriage." So they turned away unsuccessful
and ceased not faring on till they rejoined the King and told him
what had passed; whereupon he commanded the chief officers to
summon the troops and get them ready for marching and
campaigning.  But the Wazir said to him, "O my liege Lord, do not
thus: the King is not at fault because, when his daughter learnt
our business, she sent a message saying, 'If my father force me
to wed, whomsoever I wed I will slay and myself after him.' So
the refusal cometh from her." When the King heard his Minister's
words he feared for Taj al-Muluk and said, "Verily if I make war
on the King of the Camphor Islands and carry off his daughter,
she will kill herself and it will avail me naught." Then he told
his son how the case stood, who hearing it said, "O my father, I
cannot live without her; so I will go to her and contrive to get
at her, even though I die in the attempt, and this only will I do
and nothing else." Asked his father, "How wilt thou go to her?"
and he answered, "I will go in the guise of a merchant."[FN#11]
Then said the King, "If thou need must go and there is no help
for it, take with thee the Wazir and Aziz." Then he brought out
money from his treasuries and made ready for his son merchandise
to the value of an hundred thousand dinars.  The two had settled
upon this action; and when the dark hours came Taj al-Muluk and
Aziz went to Aziz's lodgings and there passed that night, and the
Prince was heart smitten, taking no pleasure in food or in sleep;
for melancholy was heavy upon him and he was agitated with
longing for his beloved.  So he besought the Creator that he
would vouch safe to unite him with her and he wept and groaned
and wailed and began versifying,

"Union, this severance ended, shall I see some day?  * Then shall
     my tears this love lorn lot of me portray.
While night all care forgets I only minded thee, * And thou didst
     gar me wake while all forgetful lay."

And when his improvising came to an end, he wept with sore
weeping and Aziz wept with him, for that he remembered his
cousin; and they both ceased not to shed tears till morning
dawned, whereupon Taj al-Muluk rose and went to farewell his
mother, in travelling dress.  She asked him of his case and he
repeated the story to her; so she gave him fifty thousand gold
pieces and bade him adieu; and, as he fared forth, she put up
prayers for his safety and for his union with his lover and his
friends.  Then he betook himself to his father and asked his
leave to depart.  The King granted him permission and, presenting
him with other fifty thousand dinars, bade set up a tent for him
without the city and they pitched a pavilion wherein the
travellers abode two days.  Then all set out on their journey.
Now Taj al-Muluk delighted in the company of Aziz and said to
him, "O my brother, henceforth I can never part from thee."
Replied Aziz, "And I am of like mind and fain would I die under
thy feet: but, O my brother, my heart is concerned for my
mother." "When we shall have won our wish," said the Prince,
"there will be naught save what is well!" Now the Wazir continued
charging Taj al-Muluk to be patient, whilst Aziz entertained him
every evening with talk and recited poetry to him and diverted
him with histories and anecdotes.  And so they fared on
diligently night and day for two whole months, till the way
became tedious to Taj al-Muluk and the fire of desire redoubled
on him; and he broke out,

"The road is lonesome; grow my grief and need, * While on my
     breast love fires for ever feed:
Goal of my hopes, sole object of my wish!  * By him who moulded
     man from drop o' seed,
I bear such loads of longing for thy love, * Dearest, as weight
     of al Shumm Mounts exceed:
O 'Lady of my World'[FN#12] Love does me die; * No breath of life
     is left for life to plead;
But for the union hope that lends me strength, * My weary limbs
     were weak this way to speed."

When he had finished his verses, he wept (and Aziz wept with him)
from a wounded heart, till the Minister was moved to pity by
their tears and said, "O my lord, be of good cheer and keep thine
eyes clear of tears; there will be naught save what is well!"
Quoth Taj al-Muluk, "O Wazir, indeed I am weary of the length of
the way.  Tell me how far we are yet distant from the city."
Quoth Aziz, "But a little way remaineth to us." Then they
continued their journey, cutting across river vales and plains,
words and stony wastes, till one night, as Taj al-Muluk was
sleeping, he dreamt that his beloved was with him and that he
embraced her and pressed her to his bosom; and he awoke
quivering, shivering with pain, delirious with emotion, and
improvised these verses,

"Dear friend, my tears aye flow these cheeks adown, *
     With longsome pain and pine, my sorrow's crown:
I plain like keening woman child bereft, *
     And as night falls like widow dove I groan:
An blow the breeze from land where thou cost wone, *
     I find o'er sunburnt earth sweet coolness blown.
Peace be wi' thee, my love, while zephyr breathes, *
     And cushat flies and turtle makes her moan."

And when he had ended his versifying, the Wazir came to him and
said, "Rejoice; this is a good sign: so be of good cheer and keep
thine eyes cool and clear, for thou shalt surely compass thy
desire." And Aziz also came to him and exhorted him to patience
and applied himself to divert him, talking with him and telling
him tales.  So they pressed on, marching day and night, other two
months, till there appeared to them one day at sunrise some white
thing in the distance and Taj al-Muluk said to Aziz, "What is
yonder whiteness?" He replied, "O my lord!  yonder is the Castle
of Crystal and that is the city thou seekest." At this the Prince
rejoiced, and they ceased not faring forwards till they drew near
the city and, as they approached it, Taj al-Muluk joyed with
exceeding joy, and his care ceased from him.  They entered in
trader guise, the King's son being habited as a merchant of
importance; and repaired to a great Khan, known as the Merchants'
Lodging.  Quoth Taj al-Muluk to Aziz, "Is this the resort of the
merchants?"; and quoth he, "Yes; 'tis the Khan wherein I lodged
before." So they alighted there and making their baggage camels
kneel, unloaded them and stored their goods in the
warehouses.[FN#13] They abode four days for rest; when the Wazir
advised that they should hire a large house.  To this they
assented and they found them a spacious house, fitted up for
festivities, where they took up their abode, and the Wazir and
Aziz studied to devise some device for Taj al-Muluk, who remained
in a state of perplexity, knowing not what to do.  Now the
Minister could think of nothing but that he should set up as a
merchant on 'Change and in the market of fine stuffs; so he
turned to the Prince and his companion and said to them, "Know ye
that if we tarry here on this wise, assuredly we shall not win
our wish nor attain our aim; but a something occurred to me
whereby (if Allah please!) we shall find our advantage." Replied
Taj al-Muluk and Aziz, "Do what seemeth good to thee, indeed
there is a blessing on the grey beard; more specially on those
who, like thyself, are conversant with the conduct of affairs: so
tell us what occurreth to thy mind." Rejoined the Wazir "It is my
counsel that we hire thee a shop in the stuff bazar, where thou
mayst sit to sell and buy.  Every one, great and small, hath need
of silken stuffs and other cloths; so if thou patiently abide in
thy shop, thine affairs will prosper, Inshallah!  more by token
as thou art comely of aspect.  Make, however, Aziz thy factor and
set him within the shop, to hand thee the pieces of cloth and
stuffs." When Taj al-Muluk heard these words, he said, 'This rede
is right and a right pleasant recking." So he took out a handsome
suit of merchant's weed, and, putting it on, set out for the
bazar, followed by his servants, to one of whom he had given a
thousand dinars, wherewith to fit up the shop.  They ceased not
walking till they came to the stuff market, and when the
merchants saw Taj al-Muluk's beauty and grace, they were
confounded and went about saying, "Of a truth Rizwán[FN#14] hath
opened the gates of Paradise and left them unguarded, so that
this youth of passing comeliness hath come forth." And others,
"Peradventure this is one of the angels." Now when they went in
among the traders they asked for the shop of the Overseer of the
market and the merchants directed them thereto.  So they delayed
not to repair thither and to salute him, and he and those who
were with him rose to them and seated them and made much of them,
because of the Wazir, whom they saw to be a man in years and of
reverend aspect; and viewing the youths Aziz and Taj al-Muluk in
his company, they said to one another, "Doubtless our Shaykh is
the father of these two youths." Then quoth the Wazir, "Who among
you is the Overseer of the market?" "This is he," replied they;
and behold, he came forward and the Wazir observed him narrowly
and saw him to be an old man of grave and dignified carriage,
with eunuchs and servants and black slaves.  The Syndic greeted
them with the greeting of friends and was lavish in his
attentions to them: then he seated them by his side and asked
them, "Have ye any business which we[FN#15] may have the
happiness of transacting?" The Minister answered, "Yes; I am an
old man, stricken in years, and have with me these two youths,
with whom I have travelled through every town and country,
entering no great city without tarrying there a full year, that
they might take their pleasure in viewing it and come to know its
citizens.  Now I have visited your town intending to sojourn here
for a while; so I want of thee a handsome shop in the best
situation, wherein I may establish them, that they may traffic
and learn to buy and sell and give and take, whilst they divert
themselves with the sight of the place, and be come familiar with
the usages of its people." Quoth the Overseer, "There is no harm
in that;" and, looking at the two youths, he was delighted with
them and affected them with a warm affection.  Now he was a great
connoisseur of bewitching glances, preferring the love of boys to
that of girls and inclining to the sour rather than the sweet of
love.  So he said to himself, "This, indeed, is fine game.  Glory
be to Him who created and fashioned them out of vile
water!"[FN#16] and rising stood before them like a servant to do
them honour.  Then he went out and made ready for them a shop
which was in the very midst of the Exchange; nor was there any
larger or better in the bazar, for it was spacious and handsomely
decorated and fitted with shelves of ivory and ebony wood.  After
this he delivered the keys to the Wazir, who was dressed as an
old merchant, saying, "Take them, O my lord, and Allah make it a
blessed abiding place to thy two sons!" The Minister took the
keys and the three returning to the Khan where they had alighted,
bade the servants transport to the shop all their goods and
stuffs.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Wazir took the shop keys, he went accompanied by Taj al-Muluk and
Aziz to the Khan, and they bade the servants transport to the
shop all their goods and stuffs and valuables of which they had
great store worth treasures of money.  And when all this was duly
done, they went to the shop and ordered their stock in trade and
slept there that night.  As soon as morning morrowed the Wazir
took the two young men to the Hammam bath where they washed them
clean; and they donned rich dresses and scented themselves with
essences and enjoyed themselves to the utmost.  Now each of the
youths was passing fair to look upon, and in the bath they were
even as saith the poet,

"Luck to the Rubber, whose deft hand o'erdies *
     A frame begotten twixt the lymph and light:[FN#17]
He shows the thaumaturgy of his craft, *
     And gathers musk in form of camphor dight."[FN#18]

After bathing they left; and, when the Overseer heard that they
had gone to the Hammam, he sat down to await the twain, and
presently they came up to him like two gazelles; their cheeks
were reddened by the bath and their eyes were darker than ever;
their faces shone and they were as two lustrous moons or two
branches fruit laden.  Now when he saw them he rose forthright
and said to them, "O my sons, may your bath profit you
always!"[FN#19] Where upon Taj al-Muluk replied, with the
sweetest of speech, "Allah be bountiful to thee, O my father; why
didst thou not come with us and bathe in our company?" Then they
both bent over his right hand and kissed it and walked before him
to the shop, to entreat him honourably and show their respect for
him, for that he was Chief of the Merchants and the market, and
he had done them kindness in giving them the shop.  When he saw
their hips quivering as they moved, desire and longing redoubled
on him; and he puffed and snorted and he devoured them with his
eyes, for he could not contain himself, repeating the while these
two couplets,

"Here the heart reads a chapter of devotion pure; *
     Nor reads dispute if Heaven in worship partner take:
No wonder 'tis he trembles walking 'neath such weight!  *
     How much of movement that revolving sphere must
     make.[FN#20]"

Furthermore he said,

"I saw two charmers treading humble earth.  *
     Two I must love an tread they on mine eyes."

When they heard this, they conjured him to enter the bath with
them a second time.  He could hardly believe his ears and
hastening thither, went in with them.  The Wazir had not yet left
the bath; so when he heard of the Overseer's coming, he came out
and meeting him in the middle of the bath hall invited him to
enter.  He refused, whereupon Taj al-Muluk taking him by the hand
walked on one side and Aziz by the other, and carried him into a
cabinet; and that impure old man submitted to them, whilst his
emotion increased on him.  He would have refused, albeit this was
what he desired; but the Minister said to him, "They are thy
sons; let them wash thee and cleanse thee." "Allah preserve them
to thee!" exclaimed the Overseer, "By Allah your coming and the
coming of those with you bring down blessing and good luck upon
our city!" And he repeated these two couplets,

"Thou camest and green grew the hills anew; *
     And sweetest bloom to the bridegroom threw,
While aloud cried Earth and her earth-borns too *
     'Hail and welcome who comest with grace to endue.'"

They thanked him for this, and Taj al-Muluk ceased not to wash
him and to pour water over him and he thought his soul in
Paradise.  When they had made an end of his service, he blessed
them and sat by the side of the Wazir, talking but gazing the
while on the youths.  Presently, the servants brought them
towels, and they dried themselves and donned their dress.  Then
they went out, and the Minister turned to the Syndic and said to
him, "O my lord!  verily the bath is the Paradise[FN#21] of this
world." Replied the Overseer, "Allah vouchsafe to thee such
Paradise, and health to thy sons and guard them from the evil
eye!  Do ye remember aught that the eloquent have said in praise
of the bath.?" Quoth Taj al-Muluk, "I will repeat for thee a pair
of couplets;" and he recited,

The life of the bath is the joy of man's life,[FN#22] *
     Save that time is short for us there to bide:
A Heaven where irksome it were to stay; *
     A Hell, delightful at entering-tide."

When he ended his recital, quoth Aziz, "And I also remember two
couplets in praise of the bath." The Overseer said, "Let me hear
them," so he repeated the following,

"A house where flowers from stones of granite grow, *
     Seen at its best when hot with living lows:
Thou deem'st it Hell but here, forsooth, is Heaven, *
     And some like suns and moons within it show."

And when he had ended his recital, his verses pleased the
Overseer and he wondered at his words and savoured their grace
and fecundity and said to them, "By Allah, ye possess both beauty
and eloquence.  But now listen to me, you twain!" And he began
chanting, and recited in song the following verses,

"O joy of Hell and Heaven!  whose tormentry *
     Enquickens frame and soul with lively gree:
I marvel so delightsome house to view, *
     And most when 'neath it kindled fires I see:
Sojourn of bliss to visitors, withal *
     Pools on them pour down tears unceasingly."

Then his eye-sight roamed and browsed on the gardens of their
beauty and he repeated these two couplets,

"I went to the house of the keeper-man; *
     He was out, but others to smile began:
I entered his Heaven[FN#23] and then his Hell;[FN#24] *
     And I said 'Bless Málik[FN#25] and bless Rizwán.' "[FN#26]

When they heard these verses they were charmed, and the Over seer
invited them to his house; but they declined and returned to
their own place, to rest from the great heat of the bath.  So
they took their ease there and ate and drank and passed that
night in perfect solace and satisfaction, till morning dawned,
when they arose from sleep and making their lesser ablution,
prayed the dawn- prayer and drank the morning draught.[FN#27] As
soon as the sun had risen and the shops and markets opened, they
arose and going forth from their place to the bazar opened their
shop, which their servants had already furnished, after the
handsomest fashion, and had spread with prayer rugs and silken
carpets and had placed on the divans a pair of mattresses, each
worth an hundred dinars.  On every mattress they had disposed a
rug of skin fit for a King and edged with a fringe of gold; and
a-middlemost the shop stood a third seat still richer, even as
the place required.  Then Taj al-Muluk sat down on one divan, and
Aziz on another, whilst the Wazir seated himself on that in the
centre, and the servants stood before them.  The city people soon
heard of them and crowded about them, so that they sold some of
their goods and not a few of their stuffs; for Taj al-Muluk's
beauty and loveliness had become the talk of the town.  Thus they
passed a trifle of time, and every day the people flocked to them
and pressed upon them more and more, till the Wazir, after
exhorting Taj al-Muluk to keep his secret, commended him to the
care of Aziz and went home, that he might commune with himself
alone and cast about for some contrivance which might profit
them.  Meanwhile, the two young men sat talking and Taj al-Muluk
said to Aziz, "Haply some one will come from the Lady Dunya." So
he ceased not expecting this chance days and nights, but his
heart was troubled and he knew neither sleep nor rest; for desire
had got the mastery of him, and love and longing were sore upon
him, so that he renounced the solace of sleep and abstained from
meat and drink; yet ceased he not to be like the moon on the
night of fullness.  Now one day as he sat in the shop, behold,
there came up an ancient woman.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir
Dandan continued to Zau al-Makan: Now one day as Taj al-Muluk sat
in his shop, behold, there appeared an ancient woman, who came up
to him followed by two slave girls.  She ceased not advancing
till she stood before the shop of Taj al-Muluk and, observing his
symmetry and beauty and loveliness, marvelled at his charms and
sweated in her petticoat trousers, exclaiming, "Glory to Him who
created thee out of vile water, and made thee a temptation to all
beholders!" And she fixed her eyes on him and said, "This is not
a mortal, he is none other than an angel deserving the highest
respect."[FN#28] Then she drew near and saluted him, whereupon he
returned her salute and rose to his feet to receive her and
smiled in her face (all this by a hint from Aziz); after which he
made her sit down by his side and fanned her with a fan, till she
was rested and refreshed.  Then she turned to Taj al-Muluk and
said, "O my son!  O thou who art perfect in bodily gifts and
spiritual graces; say me, art thou of this country?" He replied,
in voice the sweetest and in tone the pleasantest, "By Allah, O
my mistress, I was never in this land during my life till this
time, nor do I abide here save by way of diversion." Rejoined
she, "May the Granter grant thee all honour and prosperity!  And
what stuffs hast thou brought with thee?  Show me something
passing fine; for the beauteous should bring nothing but what is
beautiful." When he heard her words, his heart fluttered and he
knew not their inner meaning; but Aziz made a sign to him and he
replied, "I have everything thou canst desire and especially I
have goods that besit none but Kings and King's daughters; so
tell me what stuff thou wantest and for whom, that I may show
thee what will be fitting for him." This he said, that he might
learn the meaning of her words; and she rejoined, "I want a stuff
fit for the Princess Dunya, daughter of King Shahriman." Now when
the Prince heard the name of his beloved, he joyed with great joy
and said to Aziz, "Give me such a parcel." So Aziz brought it and
opened it before Taj al-Muluk who said to the old woman, "Select
what will suit her; for these goods are to be found only with
me." She chose stuffs worth a thousand dinars and asked, "How
much is this?"; and she ceased not the while to talk with him and
rub what was inside her thighs with the palm of her hand.
Answered Taj al-Muluk, "Shall I haggle with the like of thee
about this paltry price?  Praised be Allah who hath acquainted me
with thee!" The old woman rejoined, "Allah's name be upon thee!
I commend thy beautiful face to the protection of the Lord of the
Daybreak.[FN#29] Beautiful face and eloquent speech!  Happy she
who lieth in thy bosom and claspeth thy waist in her arms and
enjoyeth thy youth, especially if she be beautiful and lovely
like thyself!" At this, Taj al-Muluk laughed till he fell on his
back and said to himself, "O Thou who fulfillest desires human by
means of pimping old women!  They are the true fulfillers of
desires!" Then she asked, "O my son, what is thy name?" and he
answered, "My name is Taj al-Muluk, the Crown of Kings." Quoth
she, "This is indeed a name of Kings and King's sons and thou art
clad in merchant's clothes." Quoth Aziz, "for the love his
parents and family bore him and for the value they set on him,
they named him thus." Replied the old woman, "Thou sayest sooth,
Allah guard you both from the evil eye and the envious, though
hearts be broken by your charms!" Then she took the stuffs and
went her way; but she was amazed at his beauty and stature and
symmetry, and she ceased not going till she found the Lady Dunya
and said to her, "O my mistress!  I have brought thee some
handsome stuffs." Quoth the Princess, "Show me that same"; and
the old woman, "O apple of my eye, here it is, turn it over and
examine it." Now when the Princess looked at it she was amazed
and said, "O my nurse, this is indeed handsome stuff: I have
never seen its like in our city." "O my lady," replied the old
nurse, "he who sold it me is handsomer still.  It would seem as
if Rizwan had left the gates of Paradise open in his
carelessness, and as if the youth who sold me this stuff had come
bodily out of Heaven.  I would he might sleep this night with
thee and might lie between thy breasts.[FN#30] He hath come to
thy city with these precious stuffs for amusement's sake, and he
is a temptation to all who set eyes on him." The Princess laughed
at her words and said, "Allah afflict thee, O pernicious old hag!
Thou dotest and there is no sense left in thee." Presently, she
resumed, "Give me the stuff that I may look at it anew." So she
gave it her and she took it again and saw that its size was small
and its value great.  It pleased her, for she had never in her
life seen its like, and she exclaimed, "By Allah, this is a
handsome stuff!" Answered the old woman, "O my lady, by Allah!
if thou sawest its owner thou wouldst know him for the handsomest
man on the face of the earth." Quoth the Lady Dunya, "Didst thou
ask him if he had any need, that he might tell us and we might
satisfy it?" But the nurse shook her head and said, "The Lord
keep thy sagacity!  By Allah, he hath a want, may thy skill not
fail thee.  What!  is any man free from wants?" Rejoined the
Princess, "Go back to him and salute him and say to him, 'Our
land and town are honoured by thy visit and, if thou have any
need, we will fulfil it to thee, on our head and eyes.' "  So the
old woman at once returned to Taj al-Muluk, and when he saw her
his heart jumped for joy and gladness and he rose to his feet
before her and, taking her hand, seated her by his side.  As soon
as she was rested, she told him what Princess Dunya had said; and
he on hearing it joyed with exceeding joy; his breast dilated to
the full; gladness entered his heart and he said to himself,
"Verily, I have my need." Then he asked the old woman, "Haply
thou wilt take her a message from me and bring me her answer?";
and she answered, "I hear and I obey." So he said to Aziz, "Bring
me ink-case and paper and a brazen pen." And when Aziz brought
him what he sought, he hent the pen in hand and wrote these lines
of poetry,

"I write to thee, O fondest hope!  a writ *
     Of grief that severance on my soul cloth lay:
Saith its first line, 'Within my heart is [owe!' *
     Its second, 'Love and Longing on me prey!'
Its third, 'My patience waste is, fades my life!' *
     Its fourth, 'Naught shall my pain and pine allay!'
Its fifth, 'When shall mine eyes enjoy thy sight?' *
     Its sixth, 'Say, when shall dawn our meeting-day?' "

And, lastly, by way of subscription he wrote these words. "This
letter is from the captive of captivation * prisoned in the hold
of longing expectation * wherefrom is no emancipation * but in
anticipation and intercourse and in unification * after absence
and separation. * For from the severance of friends he loveth so
fain * he suffereth love pangs and pining pain. *" Then his tears
rushed out, and he indited these two couplets,

"I write thee, love, the while my tears pour down; *
     Nor cease they ever pouring thick and fleet:
Yet I despair not of my God, whose grace *
     Haply some day will grant us twain to meet."

Then he folded the letter[FN#31] and sealed it with his signet
ring and gave it to the old woman, saying, "Carry it to the Lady
Dunya." Quoth she, "To hear is to obey;" whereupon he gave her a
thousand dinars and said to her, "O my mother!  accept this gift
from me as a token of my affection." She took both from him and
blessed him and went her way and never stinted walking till she
went in to the Lady Dunya.  Now when the Princess saw her she
said to her, "O my nurse, what is it he asketh of need that we
may fulfil his wish to him?" Replied the old woman, "O my lady,
he sendeth thee this letter by me, and I know not what is in it;"
and handed it to her.  Then the Princess took the letter and read
it; and when she understood it, she exclaimed, "Whence cometh and
whither goeth this merchant man that he durst address such a
letter to me?" And she slapt her face saying, "'Whence are we
that we should come to shopkeeping?  Awah!  Awah!  By the lord,
but that I fear Almighty Allah I had slain him;" and she added,
"Yea, I had crucified[FN#32] him over his shop door!" Asked the
old woman, "What is in this letter to vex thy heart and move thy
wrath on this wise?  Doth it contain a complaint of oppression or
demand for the price of the stuff?" Answered the Princess, "Woe
to thee!  There is none of this in it, naught but words of love
and endearment.  This is all through thee: otherwise whence
should this Satan[FN#33] know me?" Rejoined the old woman, "o my
lady, thou sittest in thy high palace and none may have access to
thee; no, not even the birds of the air.  Allah keep thee, and
keep thy youth from blame and reproach!  Thou needest not care
for the barking of dogs, for thou art a Princess, the daughter of
a King.  Be not wroth with me that I brought thee this letter,
knowing not what was in it; but I opine that thou send him an
answer and threaten him with death and forbid him this foolish
talk; surely he will abstain and not do the like again." Quoth
the Lady Dunya, "I fear that, if I write to him, he will desire
me the more." The old woman returned "When he heareth thy threats
and promise of punishment, he will desist from his persistence."
She cried, "Here with the ink case and paper and brazen pen;" and
when they brought them she wrote these couplets,

"O thou who for thy wakeful nights wouldst claim my love
     to boon, * For what of pining thou must feel and
     tribulation!
Dost thou, fond fool and proud of sprite, seek meeting with the
     Moon? * Say, did man ever win his wish to take in arms the
     Moon?
I counsel thee, from soul cast out the wish that dwells
     therein, * And cut that short which threatens thee with
     sore risk oversoon:
An to such talk thou dare return, I bid thee to expect *
     Fro' me such awful penalty as suiteth froward loon:
I swear by Him who moulded man from gout of clotted
     blood,[FN#34] * Who lit the Sun to shine by day and lit
     for night the moon,
An thou return to mention that thou spakest in thy pride, *
     Upon a cross of tree for boon I'll have thee crucified!"

Then she folded the letter and handing it to the old woman said,
"Give him this and say him, 'Cease from this talk!' " "Hearkening
and obedience," replied she, and taking the letter with joy,
returned to her own house, where she passed the night; and when
morning dawned she betook herself to the shop of Taj al-Muluk
whom she found expecting her.  When he saw her, he was ready to
fly[FN#35] for delight, and when she came up to him, he stood to
her on his feet and seated her by his side.  Then she brought out
the letter and gave it to him, saying, "Read what is in this;"
adding "When Princess Dunya read thy letter she was angry; but I
coaxed her and jested with her till I made her laugh, and she had
pity on thee and she hath returned thee an answer." He thanked
her for her kindness and bade Aziz give her a thousand gold
pieces: then he perused the letter and understanding it fell to
weeping a weeping so sore that the old woman's heart was moved to
ruth for him, and his tears and complaints were grievous to her.
Presently she asked him, "O my son, what is there in this letter
to make thee weep?" Answered he, "She hath threatened me with
death and crucifixion and she forbiddeth me to write to her, but
if I write not my death were better than my life.  So take thou
my answer to the letter and let her work her will." Rejoined the
old woman, "By the life of thy youth, needs must I risk my
existence for thee, that I may bring thee to thy desire and help
thee to win what thou hast at heart!" And Taj al-Muluk said,
"Whatever thou dost, I will requite thee for it and do thou weigh
it in the scales of thy judgement, for thou art experienced in
managing matters, and skilled in reading the chapters of the book
of intrigue: all hard matters to thee are easy doings; and Allah
can bring about everything." Then he took a sheet of paper and
wrote thereon these improvised couplets,

"Yestre'en my love with slaughter menaced me, *
     But sweet were slaughter and Death's foreordainèd:
Yes, Death is sweet for lover doomed to bear *
     Long life, rejected, injured and constrainèd:
By Allah!  deign to visit friendless friend!  *
     Thy thrall am I and like a thrall I'm chainèd:
Mercy, O lady mine, for loving thee!  *
     Who loveth noble soul should be assainèd."

 Then he sighed heavy sighs and wept till the old woman wept also
and presently taking the letter she said to him, "Be of good
cheer and cool eyes and clear; for needs must I bring thee to thy
wish."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Taj
al-Muluk wept the old woman said to him, "Be of good cheer and
cool eyes and clear; for needs must I bring thee to thy wish."
Then she rose and left him on coals of fire; and returned to
Princess Dunya, whom she found still showing on her changed face
rage at Taj al-Muluk's letter.  So she gave her his second
letter, whereat her wrath redoubled and she said, "Did I not say
he would desire us the more?" Replied the old woman, "What thing
is this dog that he should aspire to thee?" Quoth the Princess,
"Go back to him and tell him that, if he write me after this, I
will cut off his head." Quoth the nurse, "Write these words in a
letter and I will take it to him that his fear may be the
greater." So she took a sheet of paper and wrote thereon these
couplets,

"Ho thou, who past and bygone risks regardest with uncare! *
     Thou who to win thy meeting prize dost overslowly fare!
In pride of spirit thinkest thou to win the star Soha[FN#36]? *
     Albe thou may not reach the Moon which shines through
     upper air?
How darest thou expect to win my favours, hope to clip *
     Upon a lover's burning breast my lance like shape and rare?
Leave this thy purpose lest my wrath come down on thee some
     day, * A day of wrath shall hoary turn the partings of
     thy hair!"

Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took
it and repaired to Taj al-Muluk.  And when he saw her, he rose to
his feet and exclaimed, "May Allah never bereave me of the
blessing of thy coming!" Quoth she, "Take the answer to thy
letter." He took it and reading it, wept with sore weeping and
said, "I long for some one to slay me at this moment and send me
to my rest, for indeed death were easier to me than this my
state!" Then he took ink case and pen and paper and wrote a
letter containing these two couplets,

"O hope of me!  pursue me not with rigour and disdain: *
     Deign thou to visit lover wight in love of thee is drowned;
Deem not a life so deeply wronged I longer will endure; * My soul
     for severance from my friend divorced this frame unsound."

Lastly he folded the letter and handed it to the old woman,
saying, "Be not angry with me, though I have wearied thee to no
purpose." And he bade Aziz give her other thousand ducats,
saying, "O my mother, needs must this letter result in perfect
union or utter severance." Replied she, "O my son, by Allah, I
desire nought but thy weal; and it is my object that she be
thine, for indeed thou art the shining moon, and she the rising
sun.[FN#37] If I do not bring you together, there is no profit in
my existence; and I have lived my life till I have reached the
age of ninety years in the practice of wile and intrigue; so how
should I fail to unite two lovers, though in defiance of right
and law?" Then she took leave of him having comforted his heart,
and ceased not walking till she went in to the Lady Dunya.  Now
she had hidden the letter in her hair: so when she sat down by
the Princess she rubbed her head and said, "O my lady, maybe thou
wilt untwist my hair knot, for it is a time since I went to the
Hammam." The King's daughter bared her arms to the elbows and,
letting down the old woman's locks, began to loose the knot of
back hair; when out dropped the letter and the Lady Dunya seeing
it, asked, "What is this paper?" Quoth the nurse, "As I sat in
the merchant's shop, this paper must have stuck to me: give it to
me that I may return it to him; possibly it containeth some
account whereof he hath need." But the Princess opened it and
read it and, when she understood it, she cried out, "This is one
of thy manifold tricks, and hadst thou not reared me, I would lay
violent hands on thee this moment!  Verily Allah hath afflicted
me with this merchant: but all that hath befallen me with him is
on thy head.  I know not from what country this one can have
come: no man but he would venture to affront me thus, and I fear
lest this my case get abroad, more by token as it concerneth one
who is neither of my kin nor of my peers." Rejoined the old woman
"None would dare speak of this for fear of thy wrath and for awe
of thy sire; so there can be no harm in sending him an answer."
Quoth the Princess, "O my nurse, verily this one is a perfect
Satan!  How durst he use such language to me and not dread the
Sultan's rage.  Indeed, I am perplexed about his case: if I order
him to be put to death, it were unjust; and if I leave him alive
his boldness will increase." Quoth the old woman, "Come, write
him a letter; it may be he will desist in dread." So she called
for paper and ink case and pen and wrote these couplets,

"Thy folly drives thee on though long I chid, *
     Writing in verse: how long shall I forbid?
For all forbiddal thou persistest more, *
     And my sole grace it is to keep it hid;
Then hide thy love nor ever dare reveal, *
     For an thou speak, of thee I'll soon be rid
If to thy silly speech thou turn anew, *
     Ravens shall croak for thee the wold amid:
And Death shall come and beat thee down ere long, *
     Put out of sight and bury 'neath an earthen lid:
Thy folk, fond fool!  thou'lt leave for thee to mourn, *
     And through their lives to sorrow all forlorn."

Then she folded the letter and committed it to the old woman, who
took it and returning to Taj al-Muluk, gave it to him.  When he
read it, he knew that the Princess was hard hearted and that he
should not win access to her; so he complained of his case to the
Wazir and besought his counsel.  Quoth the Minister, "Know thou
that naught will profit thee save that thou write to her and
invoke the retribution of Heaven upon her." And quoth the Prince,
"O my brother, O Aziz, do thou write to her as if my tongue
spake, according to thy knowledge." So Aziz took a paper and
wrote these couplets,

"By the Five Shaykhs,[FN#38] O Lord, I pray deliver me; *
     Let her for whom I suffer bear like misery:
Thou knowest how I fry in flaming lowe of love, *
     While she I love hath naught of ruth or clemency:
How long shall I, despite my pain, her feelings spare? *
     How long shall she wreak tyranny o'er weakling me?
In pains of never ceasing death I ever grieve: *
     O Lord, deign aid; none other helping hand I see.
How fain would I forget her and forget her love! *
     But how forget when Love garred Patience death to dree?
O thou who hinderest Love to 'joy fair meeting tide *
     Say!  art thou safe from Time and Fortune's jealousy?
Art thou not glad and blest with happy life, while I *
     From folk and country for thy love am doomed flee?"

Then Aziz folded the letter and gave it to Taj al-Muluk, who read
it and was pleased with it.  So he handed it to the old woman,
who took it and went in with it to Princess Dunya.  But when she
read it and mastered the meaning thereof, she was enraged with
great rage and said, "All that hath befallen me cometh by means
of this ill omened old woman!" Then she cried out to the damsels
and eunuchs, saying, "Seize this old hag, this accursed
trickstress and beat her with your slippers!" So they came down
upon her till she swooned away; and, when she came to herself,
the Princess said to her, "By the Lord!  O wicked old woman, did
I not fear Almighty Allah, I would slay thee." Then quoth she to
them, "Beat her again" and they did so till she fainted a second
time, whereupon she bade them drag her forth and throw her
outside the palace door.  So they dragged her along on her face
and threw her down before the gate; but as soon as she revived
she got up from the ground and, walking and sitting by turns,
made her way home.  There she passed the night till morning, when
she arose and went to Taj al-Muluk and told them all that had
occurred.  He was distressed at this grievous news and said, "O
my mother, hard indeed to us is that which hath befallen thee,
but all things are according to fate and man's lot." Replied she,
"Be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear, for I will
not give over striving till I have brought thee and her together,
and made thee enjoy this wanton who hath burnt my skin with
beating." Asked the Prince "Tell me what caused her to hate men;"
and the old woman answered, "It arose from what she saw in a
dream." "And what was this dream?" "'Twas this: one night, as she
lay asleep, she saw a fowler spread his net upon the ground and
scatter wheat grain round it.  Then he sat down hard by, and not
a bird in the neighbourhood but flocked to his toils.  Amongst
the rest she beheld a pair of pigeons, male and female; and,
whilst she was watching the net, behold, the male bird's foot
caught in the meshes and he began to struggle; whereupon all the
other birds took fright and flew away.  But presently his mate
came back and hovered over him, then alighted on the toils
unobserved by the fowler, and fell to pecking with her beak and
pulling at the mesh in which the male bird's foot was tangled,
till she released the toes and they flew away together.  Then the
fowler came up, mended his net and seated himself afar off.
After an hour or so the birds flew back and the female pigeon was
caught in the net; whereupon all the other birds took fright and
scurried away; and the male pigeon fled with the rest and did not
return to his mate, but the fowler came up and took the female
pigeon and cut her throat.  The Princess awoke, troubled by her
dream, and said, 'All males are like this pigeon, worthless
creatures: and men in general lack grace and goodness to women.'"
When the old woman had ended her story, the Prince said to her,
"O my mother, I desire to have one look at her, though it be my
death; so do thou contrive me some contrivance for seeing her."
She replied, "Know then that she hath under her palace windows a
garden wherein she taketh her pleasure; and thither she resorteth
once in every month by the private door.  After ten days, the
time of her thus going forth to divert herself will arrive; so
when she is about to visit the garden, I will come and tell thee,
that thou mayst go thither and meet her.  And look thou leave not
the garden, for haply, an she see thy beauty and Loveliness, her
heart will be taken with love of thee, and love is the most
potent means of union." He said, "I hear and obey;" whereupon he
and Aziz arose and left the shop and, taking the old woman with
them, showed her the place where they lodged.  Then said Taj al-
Muluk to Aziz, "O my brother, I have no need of the shop now,
having fulfilled my purpose of it; so I give it to thee with all
that is in it; for that thou hast come abroad with me and hast
left thy native land for my sake." Aziz accepted his gift and
then they sat conversing, while the Prince questioned him of the
strange adventures which had befallen him, and his companion
acquainted him with the particulars thereof.  Presently, they
went to the Wazir and, reporting to him Taj al-Muluk's purpose,
asked him, "What is to be done?" "Let us go to the garden,"
answered he.  So each and every donned richest clothes and went
forth, followed by three white slaves to the garden, which they
found thick with thickets and railing its rills.  When they saw
the keeper sitting at the gate, they saluted him with the Salam
and he returned their salute.  Then the Wazir gave him an hundred
gold pieces, saying, "Prithee, take this small sum and fetch us
somewhat to eat; for we are strangers and I have with me these
two lads whom I wish to divert."[FN#39] The Gardener took the
sequins and said to them, "Enter and amuse yourselves in the
garden, for it is all yours; and sit down till I bring you what
food you require." So he went to the market while the Wazir and
Taj al-Muluk and Aziz entered the garden.  And shortly after
leaving for the bazar the Gardener returned with a roasted lamb
and cotton white bread, which he placed before them, and they ate
and drank; thereupon he served up sweetmeats, and they ate of
them, and washed their hands and sat talking.  Presently the
Wazir said to the garth keeper, "Tell me about this garden: is it
thine or dost thou rent it?" The Shaykh replied, "It doth not
belong to me, but to our King's daughter, the Princess Dunya."
"What be thy monthly wages?" asked the Wazir and he answered,
"One diner and no more." Then the Minister looked round about the
garden and, seeing in its midst a pavilion tall and grand but old
and disused, said to the keeper, "O elder, I am minded to do here
a good work, by which thou shalt remember me.  Replied the other,
"O my lord, what is the good work thou wouldest do?" "Take these
three hundred diners," rejoined the Wazir When the Keeper heard
speak of the gold, he said, "O my lord, whatso thou wilt, do!" So
the Wazir gave him the monies, saying, "Inshallah, we will make a
good work in this place!" Then they left him and returned to
their lodging, where they passed the night; and when it was the
next day, the Minister sent for a plasterer and a painter and a
skilful goldsmith and, furnishing them with all the tools they
wanted, carried them to the garden, where he bade them whitewash
the walls of the pavilion and decorate it with various kinds of
paintings.  Moreover he sent for gold and lapis lazuli[FN#40] and
said to the painter, "Figure me on the wall, at the upper end of
this hall, a man fowler with his nets spread and birds falling
into them and a female pigeon entangled in the meshes by her
bill." And when the painter had finished his picture on one side,
the Wazir said, "Figure me on the other side a similar figure and
represent the she pigeon alone in the snare and the fowler
seizing her and setting the knife to her neck; and draw on the
third side wall, a great raptor clutching the male pigeon, her
mate, and digging talons into him." The artist did his bidding,
and when he and the others had finished the designs, they
received their hire and went away.  Then the Wazir and his
companions took leave of the Gardener and returned to their
place, where they sat down to converse.  And Taj al-Muluk said to
Aziz, "O my brother, recite me some verses: perchance it may
broaden my breast and dispel my dolours and quench the fire
flaming in my heart." So Aziz chanted with sweet modulation these
couplets,

"Whate'er they say of grief to lovers came, *
     I, weakling I, can single handed claim:
An seek thou watering spot,[FN#41] my streaming eyes *
     Pour floods that thirst would quench howe'er it flame
Or wouldest view what ruin Love has wrought *
     With ruthless hands, then see this wasted frame."

And his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated these couplets
also,

"Who loves not swan-neck and gazelle-like eyes, *
     Yet claims to know Life's joys, I say he lies:
In Love is mystery, none avail to learn *
     Save he who loveth in pure loving wise.
Allah my heart ne'er lighten of this love, *
     Nor rob the wakefulness these eyelids prize."

Then he changed the mode of song and sang these couplets:

"Ibn Síná[FN#42] in his Canon cloth opine *
     Lovers' best cure is found in merry song:
In meeting lover of a like degree, *
     Dessert in garden, wine draughts long and strong:
I chose another who of thee might cure *
     While Force and Fortune aided well and long
But ah! I learnt Love's mortal ill, wherein *
     Ibn Sina's recipe is fond and wrong."

After hearing them to the end, Taj al-Muluk was pleased with his
verses and wondered at his eloquence and the excellence of his
recitation, saying, "Indeed, thou hast done away with somewhat of
my sorrow." Then quoth the Wazir "Of a truth, there occurred to
those of old what astoundeth those who hear it told." Quoth the
Prince, "If thou canst recall aught of this kind, prithee let us
hear thy subtle lines and keep up the talk." So the Minister
chanted in modulated song these couplets,

"Indeed I deemed thy favours might be bought *
     By gifts of gold and things that joy the sprite
And ignorantly thought thee light-o'-love, *
     When can thy love lay low the highmost might;
Until I saw thee choosing one, that one *
     Loved with all favour, crowned with all delight:
Then wot I thou by sleight canst ne'er be won *
     And under wing my head I hid from sight
And in this nest of passion made my wone, *
     Wherein I nestle morning, noon and night."

So far concerning them; but as regards the old woman she remained
shut up from the world in her house, till it befel that the
King's daughter was taken with a desire to divert herself in the
garden.  Now she had never been wont so to do save in company
with her nurse; accordingly she sent for her and made friends
with her and soothed her sorrow, saying, "I wish to go forth to
the garden, that I may divert myself with the sight of its trees
and Fruits, and broaden my breast with the scent of its flowers."
Replied the old woman, "I hear and obey; but first I would go to
my house, and soon I will be with thee." The Princess rejoined,
"Go home, but be not long absent from me." So the old woman left
her and, repairing to Taj al-Muluk, said to him, "Get thee ready
and don thy richest dress and go to the garden and find out the
Gardener and salute him and then hide thyself therein." "To hear
is to obey" answered he; and she agreed with him upon a signal,
after which she returned to the Lady Dunya.  As soon as she was
gone, the Wazir and Aziz rose and robed Taj al-Muluk in a
splendid suit of royal raiment worth five thousand diners, and
girt his middle with a girdle of gold set with gems and precious
metals.  Then they repaired to the garden and found seated at the
gate the Keeper who, as soon as he saw the Prince, sprang to his
feet and received him with all respect and reverence, and opening
the gate, said, "Enter and take thy pleasure in looking at the
garden." Now the Gardener knew not that the King's daughter was
to visit the place that day; but when Taj al-Muluk had been a
little while there, he heard a hubbub and ere he could think, out
issued the eunuchs and damsels by the private wicket.  The
Gardener seeing this came up to the Prince, informed him of her
approach and said to him, "O my lord, what is to be done?  The
Princess Dunya, the King's daughter, is here." Replied the
Prince, "Fear not, no harm shall befal thee; for I will hide me
somewhere about the garden." So the Keeper exhorted him to the
utmost prudence and went away.  Presently the Princess entered
the garden with her damsels and with the old woman, who said to
herself, "If these eunuchs stay with us, we shall not attain our
end." So quoth she to the King's daughter, "O my lady, I have
somewhat to tell thee which shall ease thy heart." Quoth the
Princess, "Say what thou hast to say." "O my lady, rejoined the
old woman, "thou hast no need of these eunuchs at a time like the
present; nor wilt thou be able to divert thyself at thine ease,
whilst they are with us; so send them away;" and the Lady Dunya
replied, "Thou speakest sooth" Accordingly she dismissed them and
presently began to walk about, whilst Taj al-Muluk looked upon
her and fed his eyes on her beauty and loveliness (but she knew
it not); and every time he gazed at her he fainted by reason of
her passing charms.[FN#43] The old woman drew her on by converse
till they reached the pavilion which the Wazir had bidden be
decorated, when the Princess entered and cast a glance round and
perceived the picture of the birds the fowler and the pigeon;
whereupon she cried, "Exalted be Allah!  This is the very
counterfeit presentment of what I saw in my dream." She continued
to gaze at the figures of the birds and the fowler with his net,
admiring the work, and presently she said, "O my nurse, I have
been wont to blame and hate men, but look now at the fowler how
he hath slaughtered the she bird who set free her mate; who was
minded to return to her and aid her to escape when the bird of
prey met him and tore him to pieces." Now the old woman feigned
ignorance to her and ceased not to occupy her in converse, till
they drew near the place where Taj al-Muluk lay hidden.
Thereupon she signed to him to come out and walk under the
windows of the pavilion, and, as the Lady Dunya stood looking
from the casement, behold, her glance fell that way and she saw
him and noting his beauty of face and form, said to the old
woman, "O my nurse, whence cometh yonder handsome youth?" Replied
the old woman, "I know nothing of him save that I think he must
be some great King's son, for he attaineth comeliness in excess
and extreme loveliness." And the Lady Dunya fell in love with him
to distraction; the spells which bound her were loosed and her
reason was overcome by his beauty and grace; and his fine stature
and proportions strongly excited her desires sexual.  So she
said, "O my nurse!  this is indeed a handsome youth;" and the old
woman replied, "Thou sayest sooth, O my lady," and signed to Taj
al-Muluk to go home.  And though desire and longing flamed in him
and he was distraught for love, yet he went away and took leave
of the Gardener and returned to his place, obeying the old woman
and not daring to cross her.  When he told the Wazir and Aziz
that she had signed him to depart, they exhorted him to patience,
saying, "Did not the ancient dame know that there was an object
to be gained by thy departure, she had not signalled thee to
return home." Such was the case with Taj al-Muluk, the Wazir and
Aziz but as regards the King's daughter, the Lady Dunya, desire
and passion redoubled upon her; she was overcome with love and
longing and she said to her nurse, "I know not how I shall manage
a meeting with this youth, but through thee." Exclaimed the old
woman, "I take refuge with Allah from Satan the stoned!  Thou who
art averse from men!  How cometh it then that thou art thus
afflicted with hope and fear of this young man?  Yet, by Allah,
none is worthy of thy youth but he." Quoth the Lady Dunya, "O my
nurse, further my cause and help me to foregather with him, and
thou shalt have of me a thousand diners and a dress of honour
worth as much more: but if thou aid me not to come at him, I am a
dead woman in very sooth." Replied the ancient dame, "Go to thy
palace and leave me to devise means for bringing you twain
together.  I will throw away my life to content you both!" So the
Lady Dunya returned to her palace, and the old woman betook
herself to Taj al-Muluk who, when he saw her, rose to receive her
and entreated her with respect and reverence making her sit by
his side.  Then she said, "The trick hath succeeded," and told
him all that had passed between herself and the Princess.  He
asked her, "When is our meeting to be?"; and she answered,
"Tomorrow." So he gave her a thousand diners and a dress of like
value, and she took them and stinted not walking till she
returned to her mistress, who said to her, "O my nurse!  what
news of the be loved?" Replied she, "I have learnt where he
liveth and will bring him to thee tomorrow." At this the Princess
was glad and gave her a thousand diners and a dress worth as much
more, and she took them and returned to her own place, where she
passed the night till morning.  Then she went to Taj al-Muluk and
dressing him in woman's clothes, said to him, "Follow me and sway
from side to side[FN#44] as thou steppest, and hasten not thy
pace nor take heed of any who speaketh to thee." And after thus
charging him she went out, and the Prince followed her in woman's
attire and she continued to charge and encourage him by the way,
that he might not be afraid; nor ceased they walking till they
came to the Palace-gate.  She entered and the Prince after her,
and she led him on, passing through doors and vestibules, till
they had passed seven doors.[FN#45] As they approached the
seventh, she said to him, "Hearten thy heart and when I call out
to thee and say, 'O damsel pass on!' do not slacken thy pace, but
advance as if about to run.  When thou art in the vestibule, look
to thy left and thou wilt see a saloon with doors: count five
doors and enter the sixth, for therein is thy desire." Asked Taj
al-Muluk, "And whither wilt thou go?"; and she answered, "Nowhere
shall I go except that perhaps I may drop behind thee, and the
Chief Eunuch may detain me to chat with him." She walked on (and
he behind her) till she reached the door where the Chief Eunuch
was stationed and he, seeing Taj al-Muluk with her dressed as a
slave girl, said to the old woman, "What business hath this girl
with thee?" Replied she, "This is a slave girl of whom the Lady
Dunya hath heard that she is skilled in different kinds of work
and she hath a mind to buy her." Rejoined the Eunuch, "I know
neither slave girls nor anyone else; and none shall enter here
without my searching according to the King's commands."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
Chamberlain Eunuch cried to the old woman, "I know neither slave
girl nor anyone else; and none shall enter here without my
searching him according to the King's commands." Then quoth she,
feigning to be angry, "I thought thee a man of sense and good
breeding; but, if thou be changed, I will let the Princess know
of it and tell her how thou hinderest her slave girl;" and she
cried out to Taj al-Muluk, saying, "Pass on, O damsel!" So he
passed on into the vestibule as she bade him, whilst the Eunuch
was silent and said no more.  The Prince counted five doors and
entered the sixth where he found the Princess Dunya standing and
awaiting him.  As soon as she saw him, she knew him and clasped
him to her breast, and he clasped her to his bosom.  Presently
the old woman came in to them, having made a pretext to dismiss
the Princess's slave girls for fear of disgrace; and the Lady
Dunya said to her, "Be thou our door keeper!" So she and Taj al-
Muluk abode alone together and ceased not kissing and embracing
and twining leg with leg till dawn.[FN#46] When day drew near,
she left him and, shutting the door upon him, passed into another
chamber, where she sat down as was her wont, whilst her slave
women came in to her, and she attended to their affairs and
conversed with them.  Then she said to them, "Go forth from me
now, for I wish to amuse myself in privacy." So they withdrew and
she betook herself to Taj al-Muluk, and the old woman brought
them food, of which they ate and returned to amorous dalliance
till dawn.  Then the door was locked upon him as on the day
before; and they ceased not to do thus for a whole month.  This
is how it fared with Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya; but as
regards the Wazir and Aziz when they found that the Prince had
gone to the Palace of the King's daughter and there delayed all
the while, they concluded that he would never return from it and
that he was lost for ever; and Aziz said to the Wazir, "O my
father, what shall we do?" He replied, "O my son, this is a
difficult matter, and except we return to his sire and tell him,
he will blame us therefor." So they made ready at once and
forthright set out for the Green Land and the Country of the Two
Columns, and sought Sulayman Shah's capital.  And they traversed
the valleys night and day till they went in to the King, and
acquainted him with what had befallen his son and how from the
time he entered the Princess's Palace they had heard no news of
him.  At this the King was as though the Day of Doom had dawned
for him and regret was sore upon him, and he proclaimed a Holy
War[FN#47] throughout his realm.  After which he sent forth his
host without the town and pitched tents for them and took up his
abode in his pavilion, whilst the levies came from all parts of
the kingdom; for his subjects loved him by reason of his great
justice and beneficence.  Then he marched with an army walling
the horizon, and departed in quest of his son.  Thus far
concerning them; but as regards Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya
the two remained as they were half a year's time, whilst every
day they redoubled in mutual affection; and love and longing and
passion and desire so pressed upon Taj al Muluk, that at last he
opened his mind and said to her, "Know, O beloved of my heart and
vitals, that the longer I abide with thee, the more love and
longing and passion and desire increase on me, for that I have
not yet fulfilled the whole of my wish." Asked she, "What then
wouldst thou have, O light of my eyes and fruit of my vitals?  If
thou desire aught beside kissing and embracing and entwining of
legs with legs, do what pleaseth thee; for, by Allah, no partner
hath any part in us."[FN#48] But he answered "It is not that I
wish: I would fain acquaint thee with my true story.  Know, then,
that I am no merchant, nay, I am a King the son of a King, and my
father's name is the supreme King Sulayman Shah, who sent his
Wazir ambassador to thy father, to demand thee in marriage for
me, but when the news came to thee thou wouldst not consent."
Then he told her his past from first to last, nor is there any
avail in a twice told tale, and he added, "And now I wish to
return to my father, that he may send an ambassador to thy sire,
to demand thee in wedlock for me, so we may be at ease." When she
heard these words, she joyed with great joy because it suited
with her own wishes, and they passed the night on this
understanding.  But it so befel by the decree of Destiny that
sleep overcame them that night above all nights and they remained
till the sun had risen.  Now at this hour, King Shahriman was
sitting on his cushion of estate, with his Emirs and Grandees
before him, when the Syndic of the goldsmiths presented himself
between his hands, carrying a large box.  And he advanced and
opening it in presence of the King, brought out therefrom a
casket of fine work worth an hundred thousand diners, for that
which was therein of precious stones, rubies and emeralds beyond
the competence of any sovereign on earth to procure.  When the
King saw this, he marvelled at its beauty; and, turning to the
Chief Eunuch (him with whom the old woman had had to do), said to
him, "O Kafur,[FN#49] take this casket and wend with it to the
Princess Dunya." The Castrato took the casket and repairing to
the apartment of the King's daughter found the door shut and the
old woman lying asleep on the threshold; whereupon said he,
"What!  sleeping at this hour?" When the old woman heard the
Eunuch's voice she started from sleep and was terrified and said
to him, "Wait till I fetch the key." Then she went forth and fled
for her life.  Such was her case; but as regards the Epicene he,
seeing her alarm, lifted the door off its hinge pins,[FN#50] and
entering found the Lady Dunya with her arms round the neck of Taj
al-Muluk and both fast asleep.  At this sight he was confounded
and was preparing to return to the King, when the Princess awoke,
and seeing him, was terrified and changed colour and waxed pale,
and said to him, "O Kafur, veil thou what Allah hath
veiled!"[FN#51] But he replied, "I cannot conceal aught from the
King"; and, locking the door on them, returned to Shahriman, who
asked him, "Hast thou given the casket to the Princess?" Answered
the Eunuch, "Take the casket, here it is for I cannot conceal
aught from thee.  Know that I found a handsome young man by the
side of the Princess and they two asleep in one bed and in mutual
embrace." The King commanded them to be brought into the presence
and said to them, "What manner of thing is this?" and, being
violently enraged, seized a dagger and was about to strike Taj
al-Muluk with it, when the Lady Dunya threw herself upon him and
said to her father, "Slay me before thou slayest him." The King
reviled her and commended her to be taken back to her chamber:
then he turned to Taj al-Muluk and said to him, "Woe to thee!
whence art thou?  Who is thy father and what hath emboldened thee
to debauch my daughter?" Replied the Prince, "Know, O King, that
if thou put me to death, thou art a lost man, and thou and all in
thy dominions will repent the deed." Quoth the King, "How so?";
and quoth Taj al-Muluk "Know that I am the son of King Sulayman
Shah, and ere thou knowest it, he will be upon thee with his
horse and foot." When King Shahriman heard these words he would
have deferred killing Taj al-Muluk and would rather have put him
in prison, till he should look into the truth of his words; but
his Wazir said to him, "O King of the Age, it is my opinion that
thou make haste to slay this gallows bird who dares debauch the
daughters of Kings." So the King cried to the headsman, "Strike
off his head; for he is a traitor." Accordingly, the herdsman
took him and bound him fast and raised his hand to the Emirs,
signing to consult them, a first and a second signal, thinking
thereby to gain time in this matter;[FN#52] but the King cried in
anger to him, "How long wilt thou consult others?  If thou
consult them again I will strike off thine own head.;' So the
headsman raised his hand till the hair of his armpit showed' and
was about to smite his neck,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
headsman raised his hand to smite off his head when behold, loud
cries arose and the folk closed their shops; whereupon the King
said to the headsman, "Wait awhile," and despatched one to learn
the news.  The messenger fared forth and presently returned and
reported, "I saw an army like the dashing sea with its clashing
surge: and their horses curvetting till earth trembleth with the
tramp; and I know no more of them." When the King heard this, he
was confounded and feared for his realm lest it should be torn
from him; so he turned to his Minister and said, "Have not any of
our army gone forth to meet this army?" But ere he had done
speaking, his Chamberlains entered with messengers from the King
who was approaching, and amongst them the Wazir who had
accompanied Taj al-Muluk.  They began by saluting the King, who
rose to receive them and bade them draw near, and asked the cause
of their coming; whereupon the Minister came forward from amongst
them and stood before him and said "Know that he who hath come
down upon thy realm is no King like unto the Kings of yore and
the Sultans that went before." "And who is he?" asked Shahriman,
and the Wazir answered, "He is the Lord of justice and loyalty,
the bruit of whose magnanimity the caravans have blazed abroad,
the Sultan Sulayman Shah, Lord of the Green Land and the Two
Columns and the Mountains of Ispahan; he who loveth justice and
equity, and hateth oppression and iniquity.  And he saith to thee
that his son is with thee and in thy city; his son, his heart's
very core and the fruit of his loins, and if he find him in
safety, his aim is won and thou shalt have thanks and praise; but
if he have been lost from thy realm or if aught of evil have
befallen him, look thou for ruin and the wasting of thy reign!
for this thy city shall become a wold wherein the raven shall
croak.  Thus have I done my errand to thee and peace be with
thee!" Now when King Shahriman heard from the messenger these
words, his heart was troubled and he feared for his kingdom: so
he cried out for his Grandees and Ministers, Chamberlains and
Lieutenants; and, when they appeared, he said to them, "Woe to
you!  Go down and search for the youth." Now the Prince was still
under the headsman's hands, but he was changed by the fright he
had undergone.  Presently, the Wazir, chancing to glance around,
saw the Prince on the rug of blood and recognised him; so he
arose and threw himself upon him, and so did the other envoys.
Then they proceeded to loose his bonds and they kissed his hands
and feet, whereupon Taj al-Muluk opened his eyes and, recognising
his father's Wazir and his friend Aziz, fell down a fainting for
excess of delight in them.  When King Shahriman made sure that
the coming of this army was indeed because of this youth, he was
confounded and feared with great fear; so he went up to Taj al-
Muluk and, kissing his head, said to him, "O my son, be not wroth
with me, neither blame the sinner for his sin; but have
compassion on my grey hairs, and waste not my realm." Whereupon
Taj al-Muluk drew near unto him and kissing his hand, replied,
"No harm shall come to thee, for indeed thou art to me as my
father; but look that nought befal my beloved, the Lady Dunya!"
Rejoined the King, "O my lord!  fear not for her; naught but joy
shall betide her;" and he went on to excuse himself and made his
peace with Sulayman Shah's Wazir to whom he promised much money,
if he would conceal from the King what he had seen.  Then he bade
his Chief Officers take the Prince with them and repair to the
Hammam and clothe him in one of the best of his own suits and
bring him back speedily.  So they obeyed his bidding and bore him
to the bath and clad him in the clothes which King Shahriman had
set apart for him; and brought him back to the presence chamber.
When he entered the King rose to receive him and made all his
Grandees stand in attendance on him.  Then Taj al-Muluk sat down
to converse with his father's Wazir and with Aziz, and he
acquainted them with what had befallen him; after which they said
to him, "During that delay we returned to thy father and gave him
to know that thou didst enter the palace of the Princess and
didst not return therefrom, and thy case seemed doubtful to us.
But when thy sire heard of this he mustered his forces; then we
came to this land and indeed our coming hath brought to thee
relief in extreme case and to us great joy." Quoth he, "Good
fortune hath attended your every action, first and last." While
this was doing King Shahriman went in to his daughter Princess
Dunya, and found her wailing and weeping for Taj al-Muluk.
Moreover, she had taken a sword and fixed the hilt in the ground
and had set the point to the middle of her heart between her
breasts; and she bent over the blade saying, "Needs must I slay
myself and not survive my beloved." When her father entered and
saw her in this case, he cried out to her, saying, "O Princess of
kings' daughters, hold thy hand and have ruth on thy sire and the
folk of thy realm!" Then he came up to her and continued, "Let it
not be that an ill thing befal thy father for thy sake!" And he
told her the whole tale that her lover was the son of King
Sulayman Shah and sought her to wife and he added, "The marriage
waiteth only for thy consent." Thereat she smiled and said, "Did
I not tell thee that he was the son of a Sultan?  By Allah, there
is no help for it but that I let him crucify thee on a bit of
wood worth two pieces of silver!" Replied the King, "O my
daughter, have mercy on me, so Allah have mercy on thee!"
Rejoined she, "Up with you and make haste and go bring him to me
without delay." Quoth the King, "On my head and eyes be it!"; and
he left her and, going in hastily to Taj al-Muluk, repeated her
words in his ear.[FN#53] So he arose and accompanied the King to
the Princess, and when she caught sight of her lover, she took
hold of him and embraced him in her father's presence and hung
upon him and kissed him, saying, "Thou hast desolated me by thine
absence!" Then she turned to her father and said, "Sawest thou
ever any that could do hurt to the like of this beautiful being,
who is moreover a King, the son of a King and of the free
born,[FN#54] guarded against ignoble deeds?" There upon King
Shahriman went out shutting the door on them with his own hand;
and he returned to the Wazir and to the other envoys of Sulayman
Shah and bade them inform their King that his son was in health
and gladness and enjoying all delight of life with his beloved.
So they returned to King Sulayman and acquainted him with this;
whereupon King Shahriman ordered largesse of money and vivers to
the troops of King Sulayman Shah; and, when they had conveyed all
he had commanded, he bade be brought out an hundred coursers and
an hundred dromedaries and an hundred white slaves and an hundred
concubines and an hundred black slaves and an hundred female
slaves; all of which he forwarded to the King as a present.  Then
he took horse, with his Grandees and Chief Officers, and rode out
of the city in the direction of the King's camp.  As soon as
Sultan Sulayman Shah knew of his approach, he rose and advanced
many paces to meet him.  Now the Wazir and Aziz had told him all
the tidings, whereat he rejoiced and cried, "Praise be to Allah
who hath granted the dearest wish of my son!" Then King Sulayman
took King Shahriman in his arms and seated him beside himself on
the royal couch, where they conversed awhile and had pleasure in
each other's conversation.  Presently food was set before them,
and they ate till they were satisfied; and sweetmeats and dried
fruits were brought, and they enjoyed their dessert.  And after a
while came to them Taj al-Muluk, richly dressed and adorned, and
when his father saw him, he stood up and embraced him and kissed
him.  Then all who were sitting rose to do him honour; and the
two Kings seated him between them and they sat conversing a
while, after which quoth King Sulayman Shah to King Shahriman, "I
desire to have the marriage contract between my son and thy
daughter drawn up in the presence of witnesses, that the wedding
may be made public, even as is the custom of Kings." "I hear and
I obey," quoth King Shahriman and thereon summoned the Kazi and
the witnesses, who came and wrote out the marriage contract
between Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya.  Then they gave
bakhshish[FN#55] of money and sweetmeats; and lavished incense
and essences; and indeed it was a day of joy and gladness and all
the grandees and soldiers rejoiced therein.  Then King Shahriman
proceeded to dower and equip his daughter; and Taj al-Muluk said
to his sire, "Of a truth, this young man Aziz is of the generous
and hath done me a notable service, having borne weariness with
me; and he hath travelled with me and hath brought me to my
desire.  He ceased never to show sufferance with me and exhort me
to patience till I accomplished my intent; and now he hath abided
with us two whole years, and he cut off from his native land.  So
now I purpose to equip him with merchandise, that he may depart
hence with a light heart; for his country is nearhand." Replied
his father, "Right is thy rede;" so they made ready an hundred
loads of the richest stuffs and the most costly, and Taj al-Muluk
presented them with great store of money to Aziz, and farewelled
him, saying, "O my brother and my true friend!  take these loads
and accept them from me by way of gift and token of affection,
and go in peace to thine own country." Aziz accepted the presents
and kissing the ground between the hands of the Prince and his
father bade them adieu.  Moreover, Taj al-Muluk mounted and
accompanied him three miles on his homeward way as a proof of
amity, after which Aziz conjured him to turn back, saying, "By
Allah, O my master, were it not for my mother, I never would part
from thee!  But, good my lord!  leave me not without news of
thee." Replied Taj al-Muluk, "So be it!" Then the Prince returned
to the city and Aziz journeyed on till he came to his native
town; and he entered it and ceased not faring till he went in to
his mother and found that she had built him a monument in the
midst of the house and used to visit it continually.  When he
entered, he saw her with hair dishevelled and dispread over the
tomb, weeping and repeating these lines,

"Indeed I'm strong to bear whate'er befal; *
     But weak to bear such parting's dire mischance:
What heart estrangement of the friend can bear? *
     What strength withstand assault of severance?"

Then sobs burst from her breast, and she recited also these
couplets,

"What's this?  I pass by tombs, and fondly greet *
     My friends' last homes, but send they no reply:
For saith each friend, 'Reply how can I make *
     When pledged to clay and pawned to stones I lie?
Earth has consumed my charms and I forget *
     Thy love, from kith and kin poor banisht I.' "

While she was thus, behold, Aziz came in to her and when she saw
him, she fell down, fainting for very joy.  He sprinkled water on
her face till she revived and rising, took him in her arms and
strained him to her breast, whilst he in like manner embraced
her.  Then he greeted her and she greeted him, and she asked the
reason of his long absence, whereupon he told her all that had
befallen him from first to last and informed her how Taj al-Muluk
had given him an hundred loads of monies and stuffs.  At this she
rejoiced, and Aziz abode with his mother in his native town,
weeping for what mishaps had happened to him with the daughter of
Dalilah the Wily One, even her who had castrated[FN#56] him.
Such was the case with Aziz; but as regards Taj al-Muluk he went
in unto his beloved, the Princess Dunya, and abated her
maidenhead.  Then King Shahriman proceeded to equip his daughter
for her journey with her husband and father in law, and bade
bring them provaunt and presents and rarities.  So they loaded
their beasts and set forth, whilst King Shahriman escorted them,
by way of farewell, three days' journey on their way, till King
Shah Sulayman conjured him to return.  So he took leave of them
and turned back, and Taj al-Muluk and his wife and father fared
for wards night and day, with their troops, till they drew near
their capital.  As soon as the news of their coming spread
abroad, the folk decorated for them the city,--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

     When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Shah
Sulayman drew near his capital, the folk decorated the city for
him and for his son.  So they entered in state and the King,
sitting on his throne with his son by his side, gave alms and
largesse and loosed all who were in his jails.  Then he held a
second bridal for his son, and the sound of the singing women and
players upon instruments was never silent for a whole month, and
the tire women stinted not to adorn the Lady Dunya and display
her in various dresses; and she tired not of the displaying nor
did the women weary of gazing on her.  Then Taj al-Muluk, after
having foregathered awhile with his father and mother, took up
his sojourn with his wife, and they abode in all joyance of life
and in fairest fortune, till there came to them the Destroyer of
all delights.[FN#57] Now when the Wazir Dandan had ended the tale
of Taj al-Muluk and the Lady Dunya, Zau al-Makan said to him, "Of
a truth, it is the like of thee who lighten the mourner's heart
and who deserve to be the boon companions of Kings and to guide
their policy in the right way." All this befel and they were
still besieging Constantinople, where they lay four whole years,
till they yearned after their native land; and the troops
murmured, being weary of vigil and besieging and the endurance of
fray and foray by night and by day.  Then King Zau al-Makan
summoned Rustam and Bahram and Tarkash, and when they were in
presence bespoke them thus, "Know that we have lain here all
these years and we have not won to our wish; nay, we have but
gained increase of care and concern; for indeed we came, thinking
to take our man bote for King Omar bin al-Nu'uman and in so doing
my brother Sharrkan was slain; so is our sorrow grown to sorrows
twain and our affliction to afflictions twain.  All this came of
the old woman Zat al-Dawahi, for it was she who slew the Sultan
in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the Queen Sophia; nor
did this suffice her, but she must put another cheat on us and
cut the throat of my brother Sharrkan and indeed I have bound
myself and sworn by the solemnest oaths that there is no help but
I take blood wit from her.  What say ye?  Ponder my address and
answer me." Then they bowed their heads and answered, "It is for
the Wazir Dandan to opine." So the Minister came forward and
said, "Know O King of the Age!  it booteth us nought to tarry
here; and 'tis my counsel that we strike camp and return to our
own country, there to abide for a certain time and after that we
should return for a razzia upon the worshippers of idols."
Replied the King, "This rede is right, for indeed the folk weary
for a sight of their families, and I am an other who is also
troubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother 's
daughter Kuzia Fakan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how
is her case." When the troops heard this report, they rejoiced
and blessed the Wazir Dandan.  Then the King bade the crier call
the retreat after three days.  They fell to preparing for the
march, and, on the fourth day, they beat the big drums and
unfurled the banners and the army set forth, the Wazir Danden in
the van and the King riding in the mid battle, with the Grand
Chamberlain by his side; and all journeyed without ceasing, night
and day, till they reached Baghdad city.  The folk rejoiced in
their return, and care and fear ceased from them whilst the stay
at homes met the absentees and each Emir betook him to his own
house.  As for Zau al-Makan he marched up to the Palace and went
in to his son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven; and
who used to go down to the weapon plain and ride.  As soon as the
King was rested of his journey, he entered the Hammam with his
son, and returning, seated himself on his sofa of state, whilst
the Wazir Dandan took up his station before him and the Emirs and
Lords of the realm presented themselves and stood in attendance
upon him.  Then Zau al-Makan called for his comrade, the Fireman,
who had befriended him in his wanderings; and, when he came into
presence, the King rose to do him honour and seated him by his
side.  Now he had acquainted the Wazir with all the kindness and
good turns which the Stoker had done him; and he found that the
wight had waxed fat and burly with rest and good fare, so that
his neck was like an elephant's throat and his face like a
dolphin's belly.  Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he
had never stirred from his place; so at first he knew not the
King by his aspect.  But Zau al-Makan came up to him smiling in
his face, and greeted him after the friendliest fashion, saying,
"How soon hast thou forgotten me?" With this the Fireman roused
himself and, looking steadfastly at Zau al-Makan, made sure that
he knew him; whereupon he sprang hastily to his feet and
exclaimed, "O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?" Then Zau al-
Makan laughed at him and the Wazir, coming up to him expounded
the whole story to him and said, "In good sooth he was thy
brother and thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs
must thou get great good of him.  So I charge thee, if he say,
'Ask a boon of me,' ask not but for some great thing; for thou
art very dear to him." Quoth the Fireman, "I fear lest, if I ask
of him aught, he may not choose to give it or may not be able to
grant it." Quoth the Wazir, "Have no care; whatsoever thou askest
he will give thee." Rejoined the Stoker, "By Allah, I must at
once ask of him a thing that is in my thought: every night I
dream of it and implore Almighty Allah to vouchsafe it to me."
Said the Wazir, "Take heart; by Allah, if thou ask of him the
government of Damascus, in place of his brother, he would surely
give it thee and make thee Governor." With this the Stoker rose
to is feet and Zau al-Makan signed to him to sit; but he refused,
saying, "Allah forfend!  The days are gone by of my sitting in
thy presence.' Answered the Sultan, "Not so, they endure even
now.  Thou west in very deed the cause that I am at present alive
and, by Allah, whatever thing most desired thou requirest of me,
I will give that same to thee.  But ask thou first of Allah, and
then of me!" He said, "O my lord, I fear" "Fear not," quoth the
Sultan He continued, "I fear to ask aught and that thou shouldst
refuse it to me and it is only" At this the King laughed and
replied, "If thou require of me the half of my kingdom I would
share it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking."
Repeated the Fireman "I fear" "Don't fear," quoth the King.  He
went on, "I fear lest I ask a thing and thou be not able to grant
it." Upon this the Sultan waxed wroth and cried, "Ask what thou
wilt." Then said he, "I ask, first of Allah and then of thee,
that thou write me a patent of Syndicate over all the Firemen of
the baths in the Holy City, Jerusalem." The Sultan and all
present laughed and Zau al-Makan said, "Ask something more than
this." He replied, "O my lord, said I not I feared that thou
wouldst not choose to give me what I should ask or that thou be
not able to grant it?" Therewith the Wazir signed him with his
foot once and twice and thrice, and every time he began, "I ask
of thee" Quoth the Sultan, "Ask and be speedy." So he said, "I
ask thee to make me Chief of the Scavengers in the Holy City of
Jerusalem, or in.  Damascus town." Then all those who were
present fell on their backs with laughter and the Wazir beat him;
whereupon he turned to the Minister and said to him, "What art
thou that thou shouldest beat me?  'Tis no fault of mine: didst
thou not thyself bid me ask some important thing?" And he added,
"Let me go to my own land." With this, the Sultan knew that he
was jesting and took patience with him awhile; then turned to him
and said, "O my brother, ask of me some important thing,
befitting our dignity." So the Stoker said, "O King of the Age, I
ask first of Allah and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of
Damascus in the place of thy brother;" and the King replied,
"Allah granteth thee this." Thereupon the Fireman kissed ground
before him and he bade set him a chair in his rank and vested him
with a viceroy's habit.  Then he wrote him a patent and sealed it
with his own seal, and said to the Wazir Dandan, "None shall go
with him but thou; and when thou makest the return journey, do
thou bring with thee my brother's daughter, Kuzia Fakan."
"Hearken ing and obedience," answered the Minister; and, taking
the Fire man, went down with him and made ready for the march.
Then the King appointed for the Stoker servants and suite, and
gave him a new litter and a princely equipage and said to the
Emirs, "Whoso loveth me, let him honour this man and offer him a
handsome present." So each and every of the Emirs brought him his
gift according to his competence; and the King named him Zibl
Khán,[FN#58] and conferred on him the honourable surname of al-
Mujáhid.[FN#59] As soon as the gear was ready, he went up with
the Wazir Dandan to the King, that he might take leave of him and
ask his permission to depart.  The King rose to him and embraced
him, and charged him to do justice between his subjects and bade
him make ready for fight against the Infidels after two years.
Then they took leave of each other and the King,[FN#60] the
Fighter for the Faith highs Zibl Khan, having been again exhorted
by Zau al-Makan to deal fairly with his subjects, set out on his
journey, after the Emirs had brought him Mamelukes and eunuchs,
even to five thousand in number, who rode after him.  The Grand
Chamberlain also took horse, as did Bahram, captain of the
Daylamites, and Rustam, captain of the Persians, and Tarkash,
captain of the Arabs, who attended to do him service; and they
ceased not riding with him three days' journey by way of honour.
Then, taking their leave of him, they returned to Baghdad and the
Sultan Zibl Khan and the Wazir Dandan fared on, with their suite
and troops, till they drew near Damascus.  Now news was come,
upon the wings of birds, to the notables of Damascus, that King
Zau al-Makan had made Sultan over Damascus a King named Zibl Khan
and surnamed Al-Mujahid; so when he reached the city he found it
dressed in his honour and everyone in the place came out to gaze
on him.  The new Sultan entered Damascus in a splendid progress
and went up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of
state, whilst the Wazir Dandan stood in attendance on him, to
acquaint him with the ranks of the Emirs and their stations.
Then the Grandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down
blessings on him.  The new King, Zibl Khan, received them
graciously and bestowed on them dresses of honour and various
presents and bounties; after which he opened the treasuries and
gave largesse to the troops, great and small.  Then he governed
and did justice and proceeded to equip the Lady Kuzia Fakan,
daughter of King Sharrkan, appointing her a litter of silken
stuff.  Moreover he furnished the Wazir Dandan equally well for
the return journey and offered him a gift of coin but he refused,
saying, "Thou art near the time appointed by the King, and haply
thou wilt have need of money, or after this we may send to seek
of thee funds for the Holy War or what not." Now when the Wazir
was ready to march, Sultan al-Mujahid mounted to bid the Minister
farewell and brought Kuzia Fakan to him, and made her enter the
litter and sent with her ten damsels to do her service.
Thereupon they set forward, whilst King "Fighter for the Faith"
returned to his government that he might order affairs and get
ready his munitions of war, awaiting such time as King Zau al-
Makan should send a requisition to him.  Such was the case with
Sultan Zibl Khan, but as regards the Wazir Dandan, he ceased not
faring forward and finishing off the stages, in company with
Kuzia Fakan till they came to Ruhbah[FN#61] after a month's
travel and thence pushed on, till he drew near Baghdad.  Then he
sent to announce his arrival to King Zau al-Makan who, when he
heard this, took horse and rode out to meet him.  The Wazir
Dandan would have dismounted, but the King conjured him not to do
so and urged his steed till he came up to his side.  Then he
questioned him of Zibl Khan highs Al-Mujahid, whereto the Wazir
replied that he was well and that he had brought with him Kuzia
Fakan the daughter of his brother.  At this the King rejoiced and
said to Dandan, "Down with thee and rest thee from the fatigue of
the journey for three days, after which come to me again."
Replied the Wazir "With joy and gratitude," and betook himself to
his own house, whilst the King rode up to his Palace and went in
to his brother's daughter, Kuzia Fakan, a girl of eight years
old.  When he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed for her
sire; then he bade make for her clothes and gave her splendid
jewelry and ornaments, and ordered she be lodged with his son
Kanmakan in one place.  So they both grew up the brightest of the
people of their time and the bravest; but Kuzia Fakan became a
maiden of good sense and understanding and knowledge of the
issues of events, whilst Kanmakan approved him a generous youth
and freehanded, taking no care in the issue of aught.  And so
they continued till each of them attained the age of twelve.  Now
Kuzia Fakan used to ride a horseback and fare forth with her
cousin into the open plain and push forward and range at large
with him in the word; and they both learnt to smite with swords
and spike with spears.  But when they had reached the age of
twelve, King Zau al-Makan, having completed his preparations and
provisions and munitions for Holy War, summoned the Wazir Dandan
and said to him, "Know that I have set mind on a thing, which I
will discover to thee, and I want shine opinion thereon; so do
thou with speed return me a reply." Asked the Wazir, "What is
that, O King of the Age?"; and the other answered, "I am resolved
to make my son Kanmakan Sultan and rejoice in him in my lifetime
and do battle before him till death overtake me.  What reckest
thou of this?" The Wazir kissed the ground before the King and
replied, "Know, O King and Sultan mine, Lord of the Age and the
time!  that which is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is
now no tide to carry it out, for two reasons; the first, that thy
son Kanmakan is yet of tender years; and the second, that it
often befalleth him who maketh his son King in his life time, to
live but a little while thereafterward.[FN#62]  And this is my
reply." Rejoined the King, "Know, O Wazir that we will make the
Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for he is now one of the
family and he married my sister, so that he is to me as a
brother." Quoth the Wazir, "Do what seemeth good to thee: we have
only to obey thine orders." Then the King sent for the Grand
Chamberlain whom they brought into the presence together with the
Lords of the realm and he said to them, "Ye know that this my son
Kanmakan is the first cavalier of the age, and that he hath no
peer in striking with the sword and lunging with the lance; and
now I appoint him to be Sultan over you and I make the Grand
Chamberlain, his uncle, guardian over him." Replied the
Chamberlain, "I am but a tree which thy bounty hath planted"; and
Zau al-Makan said, "O Chamberlain, verily this my son Kanmakan
and my niece Kuzia Fakan are brothers' children; so I hereby
marry her to him and I call those present to witness thereof."
Then he made over to his son such treasures as no tongue can
describe, and going in to his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, told her
what he had done, whereat she was a glad woman and said, "Verily
the twain are my children: Allah preserve thee to them and keep
thy life for them many a year!" Replied he, "O my sister, I have
accomplished in this world all my heart desired and I have no
fear for my son!  yet it were well thou have an eye on him, and
an eye on his mother." And he charged the Chamberlain and Nuzhat
al-Zaman with the care of his son and niece and wife, and this he
continued to do nights and days till he fell sick and deemed
surely that he was about to drink the cup of death; so he took to
his bed, whilst the Chamberlain busied himself with ordering the
folk and realm.  At the end of the year, the King summoned his
son Kanmakan and the Wazir Dandan and said, "O my son, after my
death this Wazir is thy sire; for know that I am about to leave
this house of life transitory for the house of eternity.  And
indeed I have fulfilled my will of this world; yet there
remaineth in my heart one regret which may Allah dispel through
and by thy hands." Asked his son, "What regret is that, O my
father?" Answered Zau al-Makan, "O my son, the sole regret of me
is that I die without having avenged thy grandfather, Omar bin
al-Nu'uman, and thine uncle, Sharrkan, on an old woman whom they
call Zat al-Dawahi; but, if Allah grant thee aid, sleep not till
thou take thy wreak on her, and so wipe out the shame we have
suffered at the Infidel's hands; and beware of the old hag's wile
and do what the Wazir Dandan shall advise thee; because he from
old time hath been the pillar of our realm." And his son assented
to what he said.  Then the King's eyes ran over with tears and
his sickness redoubled on him; whereupon his brother in law, the
Chamberlain took charge over the country and, being a capable
man, he judged and bade and forbade for the whole of that year,
while Zau al-Makan was occupied with his malady.  And his
sickness was sore upon him for four years, during which the Chief
Chamberlain sat in his stead and gave full satisfaction to the
commons and the nobles; and all the country blessed his rule.
Such was the case with Zau al-Makan and the Chamberlain, but as
regards the King's son, he busied himself only with riding and
lunging with lance and shooting with shaft, and thus also did the
daughter of his uncle, Kuzia Fakan; for he and she were wont to
fare forth at the first of the day and return at nightfall, when
she would go in to her mother, and he would go in to his mother
whom he ever found sitting in tears by the head of his father's
couch.  Then he would tend his father all night long till
daybreak, when he would go forth again with his cousin according
to their wont.  Now Zau al-Makan's pains and sufferings were
lonesome upon him and he wept and began versifying with these
couplets,

"Gone is my strength, told is my tale of days *
     And, lookye!  I am left as thou dost see:
In honour's day most honoured wont to be, *
     And win the race from all my company
Would Heaven before my death I might behold *
     My son in seat of empire sit for me
And rush upon his foes, to take his wreak *
     With sway of sword and lance lunged gallantly:
In this world and the next I am undone, *
     Except the Lord vouchsafe me clemency."

When he had ended repeating these verses, he laid his head on his
pillow and closed his eyes and slept.  Then saw he in his sleep
one who said to him, "Rejoice, for thy son shall fill the lands
with justest sway; and he shall rule them and him shall the
lieges obey."; Then he awoke from his dream gladdened by the good
tidings he had seen, and after a few days, Death smote him, and
because of his dying great grief fell on the people of Baghdad,
and simple and gentle mourned for him.  But Time passed over him,
as though he had never been[FN#63] and Kanmakan's estate was
changed; for the people of Baghdad set him aside and put him and
his family in a place apart.  Now when his mother saw this, she
fell into the sorriest of plights and said, "There is no help but
that I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I must hope for the
aidance of the Subtle, the All-Wise!" Then she rose from her
place and betook herself to the house of the Chamberlain who was
now become Sultan, and she found him sitting upon his carpet.  So
she went in to his wife, Nuzhat al-Zaman, and wept with sore
weeping and said unto her, "Verily the dead hath no friend!  May
Allah never bring you to want as long as your age and the years
endure, and may you cease not to rule justly over rich and poor.
Thine ears have heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours
of kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and fair fortune of
life and condition; and now Time hath turned upon us, and fate
and the world have betrayed us and wrought in hostile way with
us, wherefore I come to thee craving thy favours, I from whom
favours were craved: for when a man dieth, women and maidens are
brought to despisal." And she repeated these couplets,

"Suffice thee Death such marvels can enhance, *
     And severed lives make lasting severance:
Man's days are marvels, and their stations are *
     But water-pits[FN#64] of misery and mischance.
Naught wrings my heart save loss of noble friends, *
     Girt round by rings of hard, harsh circumstance."

When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard these words, she remembered her
brother, Zau al-Makan, and his son Kanmakan, and, making her draw
near to her and showing her honour, she said, "Verily at this
moment, by Allah, I am grown rich and thou art poor; now by the
Lord!  we did not cease to seek thee out, but we feared to wound
thy heart lest thou shouldest fancy our gifts to thee an alms
gift.  Withal, whatso weal we now enjoy is from thee and thy
husband; so our house is thy house and our place thy place, and
thine is all our wealth and what goods we have belong to thee."
Then she robed her in sumptuous robes and set apart for her a
place in the Palace adjoining her own; and they abode therein,
she and her son, in all delight of life.  And Nuzhat al-Zaman
clothed him also in Kings' raiment and gave to them both especial
handmaids for their service.  After a little, she related to her
husband the sad case of the widow of her brother, Zau al-Makan,
whereat his eyes filled with tears and he said, "Wouldest thou
see the world after thee, look thou upon the world after other
than thyself.  Then entreat her honourably and enrich her
poverty."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.

      When It was the One Hundred and Thirty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat
Al-Zaman related to her husband the sad case of the widow of her
brother, Zau al-Makan, the Chamberlain said, "Entreat her
honourably and enrich her poverty." Thus far concerning Nuzhat
al-Zaman and her consort and the relict of Zau al-Makan; but as
regards Kanmakan and his cousin Kuzia Fakan, they grew up and
flourished till they waxed like unto two fruit-laden boughs or
two shining moons; and they reached the age of fifteen.  And she
was indeed the fairest of maids who are modestly veiled, lovely
faced with smooth cheeks graced, and slender waist on heavy hips
based; and her shape was the shaft's thin line and her lips were
sweeter than old wine and the nectar of her mouth as it were the
fountain Salsabíl[FN#65]; even as saith the poet in these two
couplets describing one like her,

"As though ptisane of wine on her lips honey dew *
     Dropt from the ripened grapes her mouth in clusters grew
And, when her frame thou doublest, and low bends her vine, *
     Praise her Creator's might no creature ever knew."

Of a truth Allah had united in her every charm: her shape would
shame the branch of waving tree and the rose before her cheeks
craved lenity; and the honey dew of her lips of wine made jeer,
however old and clear, and she gladdened heart and beholder with
joyous cheer, even as saith of her the poet,

"Goodly of gifts is she, and charm those perfect eyes, *
     With lashes shaming Kohl and all the fair ones Kohl'd[FN#66]
And from those eyne the glances pierce the lover's heart, *
     Like sword in Mír al-Muminína Ali's hold."

And (the relator continueth) as for Kanmakan, he became unique in
loveliness and excelling in perfection no less; none could even
him in qualities as in seemliness and the sheen of velour between
his eyes was espied, testifying for him while against him it
never testified.  The hardest hearts inclined to his side; his
eyelids bore lashes black as by Kohl; and he was of surpassing
worth in body and soul.  And when the down of lips and cheeks
began to sprout bards and poets sang for him far and near,

"Appeared not my excuse till hair had clothed his cheek, *
     And gloom o'ercrept that side-face (sight to stagger!)
A fawn, when eyes would batten on his charms, *
     Each glance deals thrust like point of Khanjar-dagger."

And saith another,

"His lovers' souls have drawn upon his cheek *
     An ant that perfected its rosy light:
I marvel at such martyrs Lazá-pent *
     Who yet with greeny robes of Heaven are dight.''[FN#67]

Now it chanced one holiday, that Kuzia Fakan fared forth to make
festival with certain kindred of the court, and she went
surrounded by her handmaids.  And indeed beauty encompassed her,
the roses of her cheeks dealt envy to their mole; from out her
smiling lips levee flashed white, gleaming like the
chamomile[FN#68]; and Kanmakan began to turn about her and devour
her with his sight, for she was the moon of resplendent light.
Then he took heart and giving his tongue a start began to
improvise,

"When shall the disappointed heart be healed of severance, *
     And lips of Union smile at ceasing of our hard mischance?
Would Heaven I knew shall come some night, and with it surely
     bring * Meeting with friend who like myself endureth
     sufferance."[FN#69]

When Kuzia Fakan heard these couplets, she showed vexation and
disapproval and, putting on a haughty and angry air, said to him,
"Dost thou name me in thy verse, to shame me amongst folk?  By
Allah, if thou turn not from this talk, I will assuredly complain
of thee to the Grand Chamberlain, Sultan of Khorasan and Baghdad
and lord of justice and equity; that disgrace and punishment may
befal thee!" Kanmakan made no reply for anger but he returned to
Baghdad; and Kuzia Fakan also returned to her palace and
complained of her cousin to her mother, who said to her, "O my
daughter, haply he meant thee no harm, and is he aught but an
orphan?  Withal, he said nought of reproach to thee; so beware
thou tell none of this, lest perchance it come to e Sultan's ears
and he cut short his life and blot out his name and make it even
as yesterday, whose memory hath passed away." However, Kanmakan's
love for Kuzia Fakan spread abroad in Baghdad, so that the women
talked of it.  Moreover, his breast became straitened and his
patience waned and he knew not what to do, yet he could not hide
his condition from the world.  Then longed he to give vent to the
pangs he endured, by reason of the lowe of separation; but he
feared her rebuke and her wrath; so he began improvising,

"Now is my dread to incur reproaches, which *
     Disturb her temper and her mind obscure,
Patient I'll bear them; e'en as generous youth his case to
     cure.'' * Beareth the burn of brand his case to
     cure."[FN#70]

And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Thirty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Grand Chamberlain became Sultan they named him King Sásán; and
after he had assumed the throne he governed the people in
righteous way.  Now as he was giving audience one day, Kanmakan's
verses came to his knowledge.  Thereupon he repented him of the
past and going in to his wife Nuzhat al-Zaman, said to her,
"Verily, to join Halfah grass and fire,[FN#71] is the greatest of
risks, and man may not be trusted with woman, so long as eye
glanceth and eyelid quivereth.  Now thy brother's son, Kanmakan,
is come to man's estate and it behoveth us to forbid him access
to the rooms where anklets trinkle, and it is yet more needful to
forbid thy daughter the company of men, for the like of her
should be kept in the Harim." Replied she, "Thou sayest sooth, O
wise King!" Next day came Kanmakan according to his wont; and,
going in to his aunt saluted her.  She returned his salutation
and said to him, "O my son!  I have some what to say to thee
which I would fain leave unsaid; yet I must tell it thee despite
my inclination." Quoth he, "Speak;" and quoth she, Know then that
thy sire the Chamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fakan, hath heard
of the verses thou madest anent her, and hath ordered that she be
kept in the Harim and out of thy reach; if therefore, O my son,
thou want anything from us, I will send it to thee from behind
the door; and thou shalt not look upon Kuzia Fakan nor shalt thou
return hither from this day forth." When he heard this he arose
and withdrew with out speaking a single word; and, betaking
himself to his mother related what his aunt had said.  She
observed, "This all cometh of thine overtalking.  Thou knowest
that the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fakan is noised abroad and
the tattle hath spread everywhere how thou eatest their food and
thereafter thou courtest their daughter." Rejoined he, "And who
should have her but I?  She is the daughter of my father's
brother and I have the best of rights to her." Retorted his
mother, "These are idle words.  Be silent, lest haply thy talk
come to King Sasan's ears and it prove the cause of thy losing
her and the reason of thy ruin and increase of thine affliction.
They have not sent us any supper to-night and we shall die an
hungered; and were we in any land but this, we were already dead
of famine or of shame for begging our bread." When Kanmakan heard
these words from his mother, his regrets redoubled; his eyes ran
over with tears and he complained and began improvising,

"Minish this blame I ever bear from you: *
     My heart loves her to whom all love is due:
Ask not from me of patience jot or little, *
     Divorce of Patience by God's House!  I rue:
What blamers preach of patience I unheed; *
     Here am I, love path firmly to pursue!
Indeed they bar me access to my love, *
     Here am I by God's ruth no ill I sue!
Good sooth my bones, whenas they hear thy name, *
     Quail as birds quailed when Nisus o'er them flew:[FN#72]
Ah! say to them who blame my love that I *
     Will love that face fair cousin till I die."

And when he had ended his verses he said to his mother, "I have
no longer a place in my aunt's house nor among these people, but
I will go forth from the palace and abide in the corners of the
city." So he and his mother left the court; and, having sought an
abode in the neighbourhood of the poorer sort, there settled; but
she used to go from time to time to King Sasan's palace and
thence take daily bread for herself and her son.  As this went on
Kuzia Fakan took her aside one day and said to her, "Alas, O my
naunty, how is it with thy son?" Replied she, "O my daughter,
sooth to say, he is tearful-eyed and heavy hearted, being fallen
into the net of thy love." And she repeated to her the couplets
he had made; whereupon Kuzia Fakan wept and said, "By Allah!  I
rebuked him not for his words, nor for ill-will to him, but
because I feared for him the malice of foes.  Indeed my passion
for him is double that he feeleth for me; my tongue may not
describe my yearning for him; and were it not for the extravagant
wilfulness of his words and the wanderings of his wit, my father
had not cut off from him favours that besit, nor had decreed unto
him exclusion and prohibition as fit.  However, man's days bring
nought but change, and patience in all case is most becoming:
peradventure He who ordained our severance will vouchsafe us
reunion!" And she began versifying in these two couplets,

"O son of mine uncle!  same sorrow I bear, *
     And suffer the like of thy cark and thy care
Yet hide I from man what I suffer for pine; *
     Hide it too, and such secret to man never bare!"

When his mother heard this from her, she thanked her and blessed
her: then she left her and acquainted her son with what she had
said; whereupon his desire for her increased and he took heart,
being eased of his despair and the turmoil of his love and care.
And he said, "By Allah, I desire none but her!"; and he began
improvising,

"Leave this blame, I will list to no flout of my foe! *
     I divulged a secret was told me to keep:
He is lost to my sight for whose union I yearn, *
     And I watch all the while he can slumber and sleep."

So the days and nights went by whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon
coals of fire,[FN#73] till he reached the age of seventeen; and
his beauty had waxt perfect and his wits were at their brightest.
One night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said,
"Why should I keep silence till I waste away and see not my
lover?  Fault have I none save poverty; so, by Allah, I am
resolved to remove me from this region and wander over the wild
and the word; for my position in this city is a torture and I
have no friend nor lover therein to comfort me; wherefore I am
determined to distract myself by absence from my native land till
I die and take my rest after this shame and tribulation." And he
began to improvise and recited these couplets,

"Albeit my vitals quiver 'neath this ban; *
     Before the foe myself I'll ne'er unman!
So pardon me, my vitals are a writ *
     Whose superscription are my tears that ran:
Heigh ho!  my cousin seemeth Houri may *
     Come down to earth by reason of Rizwan:
'Scapes not the dreadful sword lunge of her look *
     Who dares the glancing of those eyne to scan:
O'er Allah's wide spread world I'll roam and roam, *
     And from such exile win what bread I can
Yes, o'er broad earth I'll roam and save my soul, *
     All but her absence bear ing like a man
With gladsome heart I'll haunt the field of fight, *
     And meet the bravest Brave in battle van!"

So Kanmakan fared forth from the palace barefoot and he walked in
a short sleeved gown, wearing on his head a skull cap of
felt[FN#74] seven years old and carrying a scone three days
stale, and in the deep glooms of night betook himself to the
portal of al-Arij of Baghdad.  Here he waited for the gate being
opened and when it was opened, he was the first to pass through
it; and he went out at random and wandered about the wastes night
and day.  When the dark hours came, his mother sought him but
found him not; whereupon the world waxt strait upon her for all
that it was great and wide, and she took no delight in aught of
weal it supplied.  She looked for him a first day and a second
day and a third day till ten days were past, but no news of him
reached her.  Then her breast became contracted and she shrieked
and shrilled, saying, "O my son!  O my darling!  thou hast
revived my regrets.  Sufficed not what I endured, but thou must
depart from my home?  After thee I care not for food nor joy in
sleep, and naught but tears and mourning are left me.  O my son,
from what land shall I call thee?  And what town hath given thee
refuge?" Then her sobs burst out, and she began repeating these
couplets,

"Well learnt we, since you left, our grief and sorrow to
     sustain, * While bows of severance shot their shafts in
     many a railing rain:
They left me, after girthing on their selles of corduwayne *
     To fight the very pangs of death while spanned they sandy
     plain:
Mysterious through the nightly gloom there came the moan of
     dove; * A ring dove, and replied I, 'Cease thy plaint, how
     durst complain?'
If, by my life, her heart, like mine, were full of pain and
    pine * She had not decks her neck with ring nor sole with
     ruddy stain.[FN#75]
Fled is mine own familiar friend, bequeathing me a store *
     Of parting pang and absence ache to suffer evermore."

Then she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to
excessive tear shedding and lamentation.  Her grief became public
property far and wide and all the people of the town and country
side wept with her and cried, "Where is thine eye, O Zau al-
Makan?" And they bewailed the rigours of Time, saying, "Would
Heaven we knew what hath befallen Kanmakan that he fled his
native town, and chased himself from the place where his father
used to fill all in hungry case and do justice and grace?" And
his mother redoubled her weeping and wailing till the news of
Kanmakan's departure came to King Sasan.--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

        When it was the One Hundred and Fortieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that came to
King Sasan the tidings of the departure of Kanmakan, through the
Chief Emirs who said to him, "Verily he is the son of our Sovran
and the seed of King Omar bin al-Nu'uman and it hath reached us
that he hath exiled himself from the land." When King Sasan heard
these words, he was wroth with them and ordered one of them to be
hanged by way of silencing him, whereat the fear of him fell upon
the hearts of all the other Grandees and they dared not speak one
word.  Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zau al-Makan
had done him, and how he had charged him with the care of his
son; wherefore he grieved for Kanmakan and said, "Needs must I
have search made for him in all countries." So he summoned
Tarkash and bade him choose an hundred horse and wend with them
in quest of the Prince.  Accordingly he went out and was absent
ten days, after which he returned and said, "I can learn no
tidings of him and have hit on no trace of him, nor can any tell
me aught of him." Upon this King Sasan repented him of that which
he had done by the Prince; whilst his mother abode in unrest
continual nor would patience come at her call: and thus passed
over her twenty days in heaviness all.  This is how it fared with
these; but as regards Kanmakan, when he left Baghdad, he went
forth perplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should
go: so he fared on alone through the desert for three days and
saw neither footman nor horseman; withal, his sleep fled and his
wakefulness redoubled, for he pined after his people and his
homestead.  He ate of the herbs of the earth and drank of its
flowing waters and siesta'd under its trees at hours of noontide
heats, till he turned from that road to another way and,
following it other three days, came on the fourth to a land of
green leas, dyed with the hues of plants and trees and with
sloping valley sides made to please, abounding with the fruits of
the earth.  It had drunken of the cups of the cloud, to the sound
of thunders rolling loud and the song of the turtle-dove gently
sough'd, till its hill slopes were brightly verdant and its
fields were sweetly fragrant.  Then Kanmakan recalled his
father's city Baghdad, and for excess of emotion he broke out
into verse,

"I roam, and roaming hope I to return; *
     Yet of returning see not how or when:
I went for love of one I could not win, *
     Nor way of 'scaping ills that pressed could ken."

When he ended his recital he wept, but presently he wiped away
his tears and ate of the fruits of the earth enough for his
present need.  Then he made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed the
ordained prayers which he had neglected all this time; and he sat
resting in that place through the livelong day.  When night came
he slept and ceased not sleeping till midnight, when he awoke and
heard a human voice declaiming these couplets,

"What's life to me, unless I see the pearly sheen *
     Of teeth I love, and sight that glorious mien?
Pray for her Bishops who in convents reign, *
     Vying to bow before that heavenly queen.
And Death is lighter than the loved one's wrath, *
     Whose phantom haunts me seen in every scene:
O joy of cup companions, when they meet, *
     And loved and lover o'er each other lean!
E'en more in time of spring, the lord of flowers, *
     When fragrant is the world with bloom and green:
Drainer of vine-juice!  up wi' thee, for now *
     Earth is a Heaven where sweet waters flow.[FN#76]"

When Kanmakan heard these distichs his sorrows surged up; his
tears ran down his cheeks like freshets and flames of fire darted
into his heart.  So he rose to see who it was that spake these
words, but saw none for the thickness of the gloom; whereupon
passion increased on him and he was frightened and restlessness
possessed him.  He descended from his place to the sole of the
valley and walked along the banks of the stream, till he heard
the same voice sighing heavy sighs and reciting these couplets,

"Tho' 'tis thy wont to hide thy love perforce, *
     Yet weep on day of parting and divorce!
Twixt me and my dear love were plighted vows; *
     Pledge of reunion, fonder intercourse:
With joy inspires my heart and deals it rest *
     Zephyr, whose coolness doth desire enforce.
O Sa'adá,[FN#77] thinks of me that anklet wearer? *
     Or parting broke she troth without remorse?
And say!  shall nights foregather us, and we *
     Of suffered hardships tell in soft discourse?
Quoth she, 'Thou'rt daft for us and fey'; quoth I, *
     ' 'Sain thee!  how many a friend hast turned to corse!'
If taste mine eyes sweet sleep while she's away, *
     Allah with loss of her these eyne accurse.
O wounds in vitals mine!  for cure they lack *
     Union and dewy lips' sweet theriack."[FN#78]

When Kanmakan heard this verse again spoken by the same voice yet
saw no one, he knew that the speaker was a lover like unto
himself, debarred from union with her who loved him; and he said
to himself, "'Twere fitting that this man should lay his head to
my head and become my comrade in this my strangerhood."[FN#79]
Then he hailed the speaker and cried out to him, saying, "O thou
who farest in sombrest night, draw near to me and tell me thy
tale haply thou shalt find me one who will succour thee in thy
sufferings." And when the owner of the voice heard these words,
he cried out, "O thou that respondest to my complaint and
wouldest hear my history, who art thou amongst the knights?  Art
thou human or Jinni?  Answer me speedily ere thy death draw near
for I have wandered in this desert some twenty days and have seen
no one nor heard any voice but thy voice." At these words
Kanmakan said to himself, "This one's case is like my case, for
I, even I, have wandered twenty days, nor during my wayfare have
I seen man or heard voice:" and he added, "I will make him no
answer till day arise." So he was silent, and the voice again
called out to him, saying, "O thou that callest, if thou be of
the Jinn fare in peace and, if thou be man, stay awhile till the
day break stark and the night flee with the dark." The speaker
abode in his place and Kanmakan did likewise and the twain in
reciting verses never failed, and wept tears that railed till the
light of day began loom and the night departed with its gloom.
Then Kanmakan looked at the other and found him to be of the
Badawi Arabs, a youth in the flower of his age; clad in worn
clothes and bearing in baldrick a rusty sword which he kept
sheathed, and the signs of love longing were apparent on him.  He
went up to him and accosted him and saluted him, and the Badawi
returned the salute and greeted him with courteous wishes for his
long life, but somewhat despised him, seeing his tender years and
his condition, which was that of a pauper.  So he said to him, "O
youth, of what tribe art thou and to whom art thou kin among the
Arabs; and what is thy history that thou goest by night, after
the fashion of knights?  Indeed thou spakest to me in the dark
words such as are spoken of none but doughty cavaliers and lion-
like warriors; and now I hold thy life in hand.  But I have
compassion on thee by reason of thy green years; so I will make
thee my companion and thou shalt go with me, to do me service."
When Kanmakan heard him speak these unseemly words, after showing
him such skill in verse, he knew that he despised him and would
presume with him; therefore he answered him with soft and well-
chosen speech, saying, "O Chief of the Arabs, leave my tenderness
of age and tell me why thou wanderest by night in the desert
reciting verses.  Thou talkest, I see, of my serving thee; who
then art thou and what moved thee to talk this wise?" Answered
he, "Hark ye, boy!  I am Sabbáh, son of Rammáh bin Humám.[FN#80]
My people are of the Arabs of Syria and I have a cousin, Najmah
highs, who to all that look on her brings delight.  And when my
father died I was brought up in the house of his brother, the
father of Najmah; but as soon I grew up and my uncle's daughter
became a woman, they secluded her from me and me from her, seeing
that I was poor and without money in pouch.  Then the Chiefs of
the Arabs and the heads of the tribes rebuked her sire, and he
was abashed before them and consented to give me my cousin, but
upon condition that I should bring him as her dower fifty head of
horses and fifty dromedaries which travel ten days[FN#81] without
a halt and fifty camels laden with wheat and a like number laden
with barley, together with ten black slaves and ten handmaids.
Thus the weight he set upon me was beyond my power to bear; for
he exacted more than the marriage settlement as by law
established.  So here am I, travelling from Syria to Irak, and I
have passed twenty days with out seeing other than thyself; yet I
mean to go to Baghdad that I may ascertain what merchant men of
wealth and importance start thence.  Then will I fare forth in
their track and loot their goods, and I will slay their escort
and drive off their camels with their loads.  But what manner of
man art thou?" Replied Kanmakan, "Thy case is like unto my case,
save that my evil is more grievous than thine ill; for my cousin
is a King's daughter and the dowry of which thou hast spoken
would not content her people, nor would they be satisfied with
the like of that from me." Quoth Sabbah, "Surely thou art a fool
or thy wits for excess of passion are gathering wool!  How can
thy cousin be a King's daughter?  Thou hast no sign of royal rank
on thee, for thou art but a mendicant." Re joined Kanmakan, "O
Chief of the Arabs, let not this my case seem strange to thee;
for what happened, happened;[FN#82] and if thou desire proof of
me, I am Kanmakan, son of King Zau al-Makan, son of King Omar bin
al-Nu'uman Lord of Baghdad and the realm Khorasan; and Fortune
banned me with her tyrant ban, for my father died and my
Sultanate was taken by King Sasan.  So I fled forth from Baghdad
secretly, lest I be seen of any man, and have wandered twenty
days without any but thyself to scan.  So now I have discovered
to thee my case, and my story is as thy story and my need as thy
need." When Sabbab heard this, he cried out, "O my joy, I have
attained my desire!  I will have no loot this day but thy self;
for since thou art of the seed of Kings and hast come out in
beggar's garb, there is no help but thy people will seek thee;
and, if they find thee in any one's power, they will ransom thee
with monies galore.  So show me thy back, O my lad, and walk
before me." Answered Kanmakan, "O brother of the Arabs, act not
on this wise, for my people will not buy me with silver nor with
gold, not even with a copper dirham; and I am a poor man, having
with me neither much nor little, so cease then to be upon this
track and take me to thy comrade.  Fare we forth for the land of
Irak and wander over the world, so haply we may win dower and
marriage portion, and we may seek and enjoy our cousins' kisses
and embraces when we come back." Hearing this, Sabbah waxed
angry; his arrogance and fury redoubled and he said, "Woe to
thee!  Dost thou bandy words with me, O vilest of dogs that be?
Turn thee thy back, or I will come down on thee with clack!"
Kanmakan smiled and answered, "Why should I turn my back for
thee?  Is there no justice in thee?  Dost thou not fear to bring
blame upon the Arab men by driving a man like myself captive, in
shame and disdain, before thou hast proved him on the plain, to
know if he be a warrior or of cowardly strain?" Upon this Sabbah
laughed and replied, "By Allah, a wonder!  Thou art a boy in
years told, but in talk thou art old.  These words should come
from none but a champion doughty and bold: what wantest thou of
justice?" Quoth Kanmakan, "If thou wilt have me thy captive, to
wend with thee and serve thee, throw down thine arms and put off
thine outer gear and come on and wrestle with me; and whichever
of us throw his opponent shall have his will of him and make him
his boy." Then Sabbah laughed and said, "I think this waste of
breath de noteth the nearness of thy death." Then he arose and
threw down his weapon and, tucking up his skirt, drew near unto
Kanmakan who also drew near and they gripped each other.  But the
Badawi found that the other had the better of him and weighed him
down as the quintal downweighs the diner; and he looked at his
legs firmly planted on the ground, and saw that they were as two
minarets[FN#83] strongly based, or two tent-poles in earth
encased, or two mountains which may not he displaced.  So he
acknowledged himself to be a failure and repented of having come
to wrestle with him, saying in himself, "Would I had slain him
with my weapon!" Then Kanmakan took hold of him and mastering
him, shook him till the Badawi thought his bowels would burst in
his belly, and he broke out, "Hold thy hand, O boy!" He heeded
not his words, but shook him again and, lifting him from the
ground, made with him towards the stream, that he might throw him
therein: where upon the Badawi roared out, saying, "O thou
valiant man, what wilt thou do with me?"[FN#84] Quoth he, "I mean
to throw thee into this stream: it will bear thee to the Tigris.
The Tigris will bring thee to the river Isa and the Isa will
carry thee to the Euphrates, and the Euphrates will land thee in
shine own country; so thy tribe shall see thee and know thy manly
cheer and how thy passion be sincere." Then Sabbah cried aloud
and said, "O Champion of the desert lair, do not with me what
deed the wicked dare but let me go, by the life of thy cousin,
the jewel of the fair!" Hearing this, Kanmakan set him on the
ground, but when he found him self at liberty, he ran to his
sword and targe and taking them up stood plotting in himself
treachery and sudden assault on his adversary.[FN#85]  The Prince
kenned his intent in his eye and said to him, "I con what is in
thy heart, now thou hast hold of thy sword and thy targe.  Thou
hast neither length of hand nor trick of wrestling, but thou
thinkest that, wert thou on thy mare and couldst wheel about the
plain, and ply me with thy skene, I had long ago been slain.  But
I will give thee thy requite, so there may be left in thy heart
no despite; now give me the targe and fall on me with thy
whinger; either thou shalt kill me or I shall kill thee." "Here
it is," answered Sabbah and, throwing him the targe, bared his
brand and rushed at him sword in hand; Kanmakan hent the buckler
in his right and began to fend himself with it, whilst Sabbah
struck at him, saying at each stroke, "This is the finishing
blow!" But it fell harmless enow, for Kanmakan took all on his
buckler and it was waste work, though he did not reply lacking
the wherewithal to strike and Sabbah ceased not to smite at him
with his sabre, till his arm was weary.  When his opponent saw
this, he rushed upon him and, hugging him in his arms, shook him
and threw him to the ground.  Then he turned him over on his face
and pinioned his elbows behind him with the baldrick of his
sword, and began to drag him by the feet and to make for the
river.  Thereupon cried Sabbah, "What wilt thou do with me, O
youth, and cavalier of the age and brave of the plain where
battles rage?" Answered he, "Did I not tell thee that it was my
intent to send thee by the river to thy kin and to thy tribe,
that thy heart be not troubled for them nor their hearts be
troubled for thee, and lest thou miss thy cousin's bride-feast!"
At this Sabbah shrieked aloud and wept and screaming said, "Do
not thus, O champion of the time's braves!  Let me go and make me
one of thy slaves!" And he wept and wailed and began reciting
these verses,

"I'm estranged fro' my folk and estrangement's long: *
     Shall I die amid strangers?  Ah, would that I kenned!
I die, nor my kinsman shall know where I'm slain, *
     Die in exile nor see the dear face of my friend!"

Thereupon Kanmakan had compassion on him and said, "Make with me
a covenant true and swear me an oath to be a comrade as due and
to bear me company wheresoever I may go." "'Tis well," replied
Sabbah and swore accordingly.  Then Kanmakan loosed him and he
rose and would have kissed the Prince's hand; but he forbade him
that.  Then the Badawi opened his scrip and, taking out three
barley scones, laid them before Kanmakan and they both sat down
on the bank of the stream to eat.[FN#86]  When they had done
eating together, they made the lesser ablution and prayed; after
which they sat talking of what had befallen each of them from his
people and from the shifts of Time.  Presently said Kanmakan,
"Whither dost thou now intend?" Replied Sabbah, "I purpose to
repair to Baghdad, thy native town, and abide there, until Allah
vouchsafe me the marriage portion." Rejoined the other, "Up then
and to the road!  I tarry here." So the Badawi farewelled him and
took the way for Baghdad, whilst Kanmakan remained behind, saying
to himself, "O my soul, with what face shall I return pauper-
poor?  Now by Allah, I will not go back empty handed and, if the
Almighty please, I will assuredly work my deliverance." Then he
went to the stream and made the Wuzu-washing and when prostrating
he laid his brow in the dust and prayed to the Lord, saying, "O
Allah!  Thou who sendest down the dew, and feedest the worm that
homes in the stone, I beseech Thee vouchsafe me my livelihood of
Thine Omnipotence and the Grace of Thy benevolence!" Then he
pronounced the salutation which closes prayer; yet every road
appeared closed to him.  And while he sat turning right and left,
behold, he espied a horseman making towards him with bent back
and reins slack.  He sat up right and after a time reached the
Prince; and the stranger was at the last gasp and made sure of
death, for he was grievously wounded when he came up; the tears
streamed down his cheeks like water from the mouths of skins, and
he said to Kanmakan, "O Chief of the Arabs, take me to thy
friendship as long as I live, for thou wilt not find my like; and
give me a little water though the drinking of water be harmful to
one wounded, especially whilst the blood is flowing and the life
with it.  And if I live, I will give thee what shall heal thy
penury and thy poverty: and if I die, mayst thou be blessed for
thy good intent." Now under that horseman was a stallion, so
noble a Rabite[FN#87] the tongue fails to describe him; and as
Kanmakan looked at his legs like marble shafts, he was seized
with a longing and said to himself, "Verily the like of this
stallion[FN#88] is not to be found in our time." Then he helped
the rider to alight and entreated him in friendly guise and gave
him a little water to swallow; after which he waited till he had
taken rest and addressed him, saying, "Who hath dealt thus with
thee?" Quoth the rider, "I will tell thee the truth of the case.
I am a horse thief and I have busied myself with lifting and
snatching horses all my life, night and day, and my name is
Ghassan, the plague of every stable and stallion.  I heard tell
of this horse, that he was in the land of Roum, with King
Afridun, where they had named him Al-Katúl and surnamed him Al
Majnún.[FN#89] So I journeyed to Constantinople for his sake and
watched my opportunity and whilst I was thus waiting, there came
out an old woman, one highly honoured among the Greeks, and whose
word with them is law, by name Zat al-Dawahi, a past mistress in
all manner of trickery.  She had with her this steed and ten
slaves, no more, to attend on her and the horse; and she was
bound for Baghdad and Khorasan, there to seek King Sasan and to
sue for peace and pardon from ban.  So I went out in their track,
longing to get at the horse,[FN#90] and ceased not to follow
them, but was unable to come by the stallion, because of the
strict guard kept by the slaves, till they reached this country
and I feared lest they enter the city of Baghdad.  As I was
casting about to steal the stallion lo! a great cloud of dust
arose on them and walled the horizon.  Presently it opened and
disclosed fifty horsemen, gathered together to waylay merchants
on the highway, and their captain, by name Kahrdash, was a lion
in daring and dash; a furious lion who layeth knights flat as
carpets in battle-crash."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Forty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the wounded
rider spake thus to Kanmakan, "Then came out the same Kahrdash,
and fell on the old woman and her men and bore down upon them
bashing them, nor was it long before they bound her and the ten
slaves and bore off their captives and the horse, rejoicing.
When I saw this, I said to myself, 'My pains were in vain nor did
I attain my gain.' However, I waited to see how the affair would
fare, and when the old woman found herself in bonds, she wept and
said to the captain, Kahrdash, 'O thou doughty Champion and
furious Knight, what wilt thou do with an old woman and slaves,
now that thou hast thy will of the horse?' And she beguiled him
with soft words and she sware that she would send him horses and
cattle, till he released her and her slaves.  Then he went his
way, he and his comrades, and I followed them till they reached
this country; and I watched them, till at last I found an
opportunity of stealing the horse, whereupon I mounted him and,
drawing a whip from my wallet, struck him with it.  When the
robbers heard this, they came out on me and surrounded me on all
sides and shot arrows and cast spears at me, whilst I stuck fast
on his back and he fended me with hoofs and forehand,[FN#91] till
at last he bolted out with me from amongst them like unerring
shaft or shooting star.  But in the stress and stowre I got
sundry grievous wounds and sore; and, since that time, I have
passed on his back three days without tasting food or sleeping
aught, so that my strength is down brought and the world is
become to me as naught.  But thou hast dealt kindly with me and
hast shown ruth on me; and I see thee naked stark and sorrow hath
set on thee its mark, yet are signs of wealth and gentle breeding
manifest on thee.  So tell me, what and whence art thou and
whither art thou bound?" Answered the Prince, "My name is
Kanmakan, son of Zau al-Makan, son of King Omar bin al-Nu'uman.
When my father died and an orphan lot was my fate, a base man
seized the throne and became King over small and great." Then he
told him all his past from first to last; and the horse thief
said to him for he pitied him, "By Allah, thou art one of high
degree and exceeding nobility, and thou shalt surely attain
estate sublime and become the first cavalier of thy time.  If
thou can lift me on horseback and mount thee behind me and bring
me to my own land, thou shalt have honour in this world and a
reward on the day of band calling to band,[FN#92] for I have no
strength left to steady myself; and if this be my last day, the
steed is thine alway, for thou art worthier of him than any
other." Quoth Kanmakan, By Allah, if I could carry thee on my
shoulders or share my days with thee, I would do this deed
without the steed!  For I am of a breed that loveth to do good
and to succour those in need; and one kindly action in Almighty
Allah's honour averteth seventy calamities from its doer.  So
make ready to set out and put thy trust in the Subtle, the All-
Wise." And he would have lifted him on to the horse and fared
forward trusting in Allah Aider of those who seek aid, but the
horse thief said, "Wait for me awhile.  Then he closed his eyes
and opening his hands, said I testify that there is no god but
the God, and I testify that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!" And
he added, "O glorious One, pardon me my mortal sin, for none can
pardon mortal sins save the Immortal!" And he made ready for
death and recited these couplets,

"I have wronged mankind, and have ranged like wind *
     O'er the world, and in wine-cups my life has past:
I've swum torrent course to bear off the horse; *
     And my guiles high places on plain have cast.
Much I've tried to win and o'er much my sin, *
     And Katul of my winnings  is most and last:
I had hoped of this steed to gain wish and need, *
     But vain was the end of this journey vast.
I have stolen through life, and my death in strife *
     Was doomed by the Lord who doth all forecast
And I've toiled these toils to their fatal end *
     For an orphan, a pauper sans kith or friend!"

And when he had finished his verses he closed his eyes and opened
his mouth; then with a single death-rattling he left this world.
Thereupon Kanmakan rose and dug a grave and laid him in the dust;
after which he went up to the steed and kissed him and wiped his
face and joyed with exceeding joy, saying, "None hath the fellow
of this stallion; no, not even King Sasan." Such was the case
with Kanmakan; but as regards King Sasan, presently news came to
him that the Wazir Dandan had thrown off his allegiance, and with
him half the army who swore that they would have no King but
Kanmakan: and the Minister had bound the troops by a solemn
covenant and had gone with them to the Islands of India and to
Berber-land and to Black-land;[FN#93] where he had levied armies
from far and near, like unto the swollen sea for fear and none
could tell the host's van from its rear.  And the Minister was
resolved to make for Baghdad and take the kingdom in ward and
slay every soul who dare retard, having sworn not to return the
sword of war to its sheath, till he had made Kanmakan King.  When
this news came to Sasan, he was drowned in the sea of appal,
knowing that the whole state had turned against him, great and
small; and his trouble redoubled and his care became despair.  So
he opened his treasuries and distributed his monies among his
officers; and he prayed for Kanmakan's return, that he might draw
his heart to him with fair usage and bounty; and make him
commander of those troops which ceased not being faithful to him,
so might he quench the sparks ere they became a flame.  Now when
the news of this reached Kanmakan by the merchants, he returned
in haste to Baghdad on the back of the aforesaid stallion, and as
King Sasan sat perplexed upon his throne he heard of the coming
of Kanmakan; whereupon he despatched all the troops and head-men
of the city to meet him.  So all who were in Baghdad fared forth
and met the Prince and escorted him to the palace and kissed the
thresholds, whilst the damsels and the eunuchs went in to his
mother and gave her the fair tidings of his return.  She came to
him and kissed him between the eyes, but he said to her, "O
mother mine, let me go to my uncle King Sasan who hath
overwhelmed me with weal and boon." And while he so did, all the
palace-people and head-men marvelled at the beauty of the
stallion and said, "No King is like unto this man." So Kanmakan
went in to King Sasan and saluted him as he rose to receive him;
and, kissing his hands and feet, offered him the horse as a
present.  The King greeted him, saying, "Well come and welcome to
my son Kanmakan!  By Allah, the world hath been straitened on me
by reason of thine absence, but praised be Allah for thy safety!"
And Kanmakan called down blessings on him.  Then the King looked
at the stallion, Al-Katul highs, and knew him for the very horse
he had seen in such and such a year whilst beleaguering the
Cross-worshippers of Constantinople with Kanmakan's sire, Zau al-
Makan, that time they slew his uncle Sharrkan.  So he said to the
Prince, "If thy father could have come by this courser, he would
have bought it with a thousand blood horses: but now let the
honour return to the honourable.  We accept the steed and we give
him back to thee as a gift, for to him thou hast more right than
any wight, being knightliest of knights." Then King Sasan bade
bring forth for him dresses of honour and led horses and
appointed to him the chief lodging in the palace, and showed him
the utmost affection and honour, because he feared the issue of
the Wazir Dandan's doings.  At this Kanmakan rejoiced and shame
and humiliation ceased from him.  Then he went to his house and,
going to his mother, asked, "O my mother, how is it with the
daughter of my uncle?" Answered she, "By Allah, O my son, my
concern for thine absence hath distracted me from any other, even
from thy beloved; especially as she was the cause of thy
strangerhood and thy separation from me." Then he complained to
her of his case, saying, "O my mother, go to her and speak with
her; haply she will vouchsafe me her sight to see and dispel from
me this despondency." Replied his mother, "Idle desires abase
men's necks; so put away from thee this thought that can only
vex; for I will not wend to her nor go in to her with such
message.' Now when he heard his mother's words he told her what
said the horse-thief concerning Zat al-Dawahi, how the old woman
was then in their land purposing to make Baghdad, and added, "It
was she who slew my uncle and my grandfather, and needs must I
avenge them with man-bote, that our reproach be wiped out." Then
he left her and repaired to an old woman, a wicked, whorish,
pernicious beldam by name Sa'adánah and complained to her of his
case and of what he suffered for love of his cousin Kuzia Fakan
and begged her to go to her and win her favour for him.  "I hear
and I obey," answered the old hag and leaving him betook herself
to Kuzia Fakan's palace, that she might intercede with her in his
behalf.  Then she returned to him and said, "Of a truth Kuzia
Fakan saluteth thee and promiseth to visit thee this night about
midnight."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Forty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
old woman came to Kanmakan and said, "Of a truth the daughter of
thine uncle saluteth thee and she will visit thee this night
about midnight;" he rejoiced and sat down to await the fulfilment
of his cousin's promise.  But before the hour of night she came
to him, wrapped in a veil of black silk, and she went in to him
and aroused him from sleep, saying, "How canst thou pretend to
love me, when thou art sleeping heart-free and in complete
content?" So he awoke and said, "By Allah, O desire of my heart,
I slept not but in the hope that thine image might visit my
dreams!" Then she chid him with soft words and began versifying
in these couplets,

"Hadst thou been leaf in love's loyalty, *
     Ne'er haddest suffered sleep to seal those eyne:
O thou who claimest lover-loyalty, *
     Treading the lover's path of pain and pine!
By Allah, O my cousin, never yet *
     Did eyes of lover sleep such sleep indign."

Now when he heard his cousin's words, he was abashed before her
and rose and excused himself.  Then they embraced and complained
to each other of the anguish of separation; and they ceased not
thus till dawn broke and day dispersed itself over the horizon;
when she rose preparing to depart.  Upon this Kanmakan wept and
sighed and began improvising these couplets,

"O thou who deignest come at sorest sync, *
     Whose lips those teeth like necklaced pearls enshrine'
I kissed him[FN#94] thousand times and clips his waist, *
     And spent the night with cheek to cheek close li'en
Till to depart us twain came dawning day, *
     Like sword edge drawn from sheath in radiant line."

And when he ended his poetry, Kuzia Fakan took leave of him and
returned to her palace.  Now certain of her damsels became aware
of her secret, and one of these slave girls disclosed it to King
Sasan, who went into Kuzia Fakan and, drawing his sabre upon her,
would have slain her: but her mother Nuzhat al-Zaman entered and
said to him, "By Allah, do her no harm, for if thou hurt her, the
report will be noised among the folk and thou shalt become a
reproach amongst the Kings of the age!  Know thou that Kanmakan
is no son of adultery, but a man of honour and nobility, who
would not do aught that could shame him, and she was reared with
him.  So be not hasty; for verily the report is spread abroad,
among all the palace-people and all the folk of Baghdad, how the
Wazir Dandan hath levied armies from all countries and is on his
way hither to make Kanmakan King." Quoth Sasan, "By Allah, needs
must I cast him into such calamity that neither earth shall
support him nor sky shall shadow him!  I did but speak him fair
and show him favour because of my lieges and my lords, lest they
incline to him; but right soon shalt thou see what shall betide."
Then he left her and went out to order the affairs of the realm.
Such, then, was the case with King Sasan; but as regards
Kanmakan, on the next day he came in to his mother and said, "O
my mother!  I am resolved to ride forth a raiding and a looting:
and I will cut the road of caravans and lift horses and flocks,
negroes and white slaves and, as soon as I have collected great
store and my case is bettered galore, I will demand my cousin
Kuzia Fakan in marriage of my uncle Sasan." Replied she, "O my
son, of a truth the goods of men are not ready to hand like a
scape-camel;[FN#95] for on this side of them are sword-strokes
and lance-lungings and men that eat the wild beast and lay
countries waste and chase lynxes and hunt lions." Quoth he,
Heaven forefend that I turn back from my resolve, till I have won
to my will!  Then he despatched the old woman to Kuzia Fakan, to
tell her that he was about to set out in quest of a marriage
settle ment befitting her, saying to the beldam, "Thou needs must
pray her to send me an answer." "I hear and I obey," replied the
old woman and going forth, presently returned with Kuzia Fakan's
reply, which was, "She will come to thee at midnight." So he
abode awake till one half of the night was passed, when
restlessness get hold on him, and before he was aware she came in
to him, saying, "My life be thy ransom from wakefulness!" and he
sprang up to receive her, exclaiming, "O desire of my heart, my
life be thy redemption from all ills and evils!" Then he
acquainted her, with his intent, and she wept: but he said, "Weep
not, O daughter of my uncle; for I beseech Him who decreed our
separation to vouchsafe us reunion and fair understanding." Then
Kanmakan, having fixed a day for departure, went in to his mother
and took leave of her, after which came he down from his palace
and threw the baldrick of his sword over his shoulder and donned
turband and face-veil; and mounting his horse, Al-Katul, and
looking like the moon at its full, he threaded the streets of
Baghdad, till he reached the city gate.  And behold, here he
found Sabbah bin Rammah coming out of town; and his comrade
seeing him, ran to his stirrup and saluted him.  He returned his
salutation, and Sabbah asked him, "O my brother, how camest thou
by this good steed and this sword and clothes, whilst I up to
present time have gotten nothing but my sword and target?"
Answered Kanmakan, "The hunter returneth not but with quarry
after the measure of his intention.  A little after thy
departure, fortune came to me: so now say, wilt thou go with me
and work thine intent in my company and journey with me in this
desert?" Replied Sabbah, "By the Lord of the Ka'abah, from this
time forth I will call thee naught but 'my lord'!" Then he ran on
before the horse, with his sword hanging from his neck and his
budget between his shoulder blades, and Kanmakan rode a little
behind him; and they plunged into the desert, for a space of four
days, eating of the gazelles and drinking water of the springs.
On the fifth day they drew near a high hill, at whose foot was a
spring-encampment[FN#96] and a deep running stream; and the
knolls and hollows were filled with camels and cattle and sheep
and horses, and little children played about the pens and folds.
When Kanmakan saw this, he rejoiced at the sight and his breast
was filled with delight; so he addressed himself to fight, that
he might take the camels and the cattle, and said to Sabbah,
"Come, fall with us upon this loot, whose owners have left it
unguarded here, and do we battle for it with near and far, so
haply may fall to our lot of goods some share." Replied Sabbah,
"O my lord, verily they to whom these herds belong be many in
number; and among them are doughty horsemen and fighting footmen;
and if we venture lives in this derring do we shall fall into
danger great and neither of us will return safe from this bate;
but we shall both be cut off by fate and leave our cousins
desolate." Then Kanmakan laughed and knew that he was a coward;
so he left him and rode down the rise, intent on rapine, with
loud cries and chanting these couplets,

"Oh a valiant race are the sons of Nu'umán, *
     Braves whose blades shred heads of the foeman-clan![FN#97]
A tribe who, when tried in the tussle of war, *
     Taketh prowess stand in the battle-van:
In their tents safe close gaberlunzie's eyne, *
     Nor his poverty's ugly features scan:
And I for their aidance sue of Him *
     Who is King of Kings and made soul of man."

Then he rushed upon the she-camels like a he-camel in rut and
drove all before him, sheep and cattle, horses and dromedaries.
Therewith the slaves ran at him with their blades so bright and
their lances so long; and at their head rode a Turkish horseman
who was indeed a stout champion, doughty in fray and in battle
chance and skilled to wield the nut-brown lance and the blade
with bright glance.  He drove at Kanmakan, saying, "Woe to thee!
Knewest thou to whom these herds belong thou hadst not done this
deed.  Know that they are the goods of the band Grecian, the
champions of the ocean and the troop Circassian; and this troop
containeth none but valiant wights numbering an hundred knights,
who have cast off the allegiance of every Sultan.  But there hath
been stolen from them a noble stallion, and they have vowed not
to return hence without him." Now when Kanmakan heard these
words, he cried out, saying, "O villain, this I bestride is the
steed whereof ye speak and after which ye seek, and ye would do
battle with me for his sake' So come out against me, all of you
at once, and do you dourest for the nonce!" Then he shouted
between the ears of Al-Katul who ran at them like a Ghul;
whereupon Kanmakan let drive at the Turk[FN#98] and ran him
through the body and threw him from his horse and let out his
life; after which he turned upon a second and a third and a
fourth, and also of life bereft them.  When the slaves saw this,
they were afraid of him, and he cried out and said to them, "Ho,
sons of whores, drive out the cattle and the stud or I will dye
my spear in your blood." So they untethered the beasts and began
to drive them out; and Sabbah came down to Kanmakan with loud
voicing and hugely rejoicing; when lo! there arose a cloud of
dust and grew till it walled the view, and there appeared under
of it riders an hundred, like lions an-hungered.  Upon this
Sabbah took flight, and fled to the hill's topmost height,
leaving the assailable site, and enjoyed sight of the fight,
saying, "I am no warrior; but in sport and jest I
delight."[FN#99] Then the hundred cavaliers made towards Kanmakan
and surrounded him on all sides, and one of them accosted him,
saying, "Whither goest thou with this loot?" Quoth he, "I have
made it my prize and am carrying it away; and I forbid you from
it, or come on to the combat, for know ye that he who is before
you is a terrible lion and an honourable champion, and a sword
that cutteth wherever it turneth!" When the horseman heard these
words, he looked at Kanmakan and saw that he was a knight like a
mane-clad lion in might, whilst his face was as the full moon
rising on its fourteenth night, and velour shone from between his
eyes.  Now that horseman was the captain of the hundred horse,
and his name was Kahrdash; and when he saw in Kanmakan the
perfection of cavalarice with surpassing gifts of comeliness, his
beauty reminded him of a beautiful mistress of his whose name was
Fátin.[FN#100]  Now she was one of the fairest of women in face,
for Allah had given her charms and grace and noble qualities of
all kinds, such as tongue faileth to explain and which ravish the
hearts of men.  Moreover, the cavaliers of the tribe feared her
prowess and all the champions of that land stood in awe of her
high spirit; and she had sworn that she would not marry nor let
any possess her, except he should conquer her in combat (Kahrdash
being one of her suitors); and she said to her father, "None
shall approach me, save he be able to deal me over throw in the
field and stead of war thrust and blow.  Now when this news
reached Kahrdash, he scorned to fight with a girl, fearing
reproach; and one of his intimates said to him, "Thou art
complete in all conditions of beauty and goodliness; so if thou
contend with her, even though she be stronger than thou, thou
must needs overcome her; for when she seeth thy beauty and grace,
she will be discomfited before thee and yield thee the victory;
for verily women have a need of men e'en as thou heedest full
plain." Nevertheless Kahrdash refused and would not contend with
her, and he ceased not to abstain from her thus, till he met from
Kanmakan that which hath been set down.  Now he took the Prince
for his beloved Fatin and was afraid; albeit indeed she loved him
for what she had heard of his beauty and velour; so he went up to
him and said, "Woe to thee,[FN#101]  O Fatin!  Thou comest here
to show me thy prowess; but now alight from thy steed, that I may
talk with thee, for I have lifted these cattle and have foiled my
friends and waylaid many a brave and man of knightly race, all
for the sake of thy beauty of form and face, which are without
peer.  So marry me now, that Kings' daughters may serve thee and
thou shalt become Queen of these countries." When Kanmakan heard
these words, the fires of wrath flamed up in him and he cried
out, "Woe to thee, O Persian dog!  Leave Fatin and thy trust and
mistrust, and come to cut and thrust, for eftsoon thou shalt lie
in the dust;" and so saying, he began to wheel about him and
assail him and feel the way to prevail.  But when Kahrdash
observed him closely he knew him for a doughty knight and a
stalwart in fight; and the error of his thought became manifest
to him, whenas he saw the green down on his cheeks dispread like
myrtles springing from the heart of a rose bright-red.  And he
feared his onslaught and quoth he to those with him, "Woe to you!
Let one of you charge down upon him and show him the keen sword
and the quivering spear; for know that when many do battle with
one man it is foul shame, even though he be a kemperly wight and
an invincible knight." Upon this, there ran at Kanmakan a
horseman like a lion in fight, mounted on a black horse with
hoofs snow-white and a star on his forehead, the bigness of a
dirham, astounding wit and sight, as he were Abjar, which was
Antar's destrier, even as saith of him the poet,

"The courser chargeth on battling foe, *
     Mixing heaven on high with the earth down low:[FN#102]
As though the Morning had blazed his brow, *
     And he rends her vitals as quid pro quo."

He rushed upon Kanmakan, and they wheeled about awhile, giving
blows and taking blows such as confound the sprite and dim the
sight; but Kanmakan was the first to smite the foe a swashing
blow, that rove through turband and iron skull cap and reached
his head, and he fell from his steed with the fall of a camel
when he rolleth over.  Then a second came out to him and offered
battle, and in like guise a third, a fourth and a fifth, and he
did with them all as he had done with the first.  Thereupon the
rest at once rushed upon him, for indeed they were roused by rage
and wild with wrath; but it was not long before he had pierced
them all with the point of his spear.  When Kahrdash saw these
feats of arms, he feared death; for he knew that the youth was
stoutest of heart and concluded that he was unique among knights
and braves; and he said to Kanmakan, "I waive my claim to thy
blood and I pardon thee the blood of my comrades: so take what
thou wilt of the cattle and wend thy ways, for thy firmness in
fight moveth my ruth and life is better for thee than death."
Replied Kanmakan, "Thou lackest not of the generosity of the
noble!  but leave this talk and run for thy life and reck not of
blame nor think to get back the booty; but take the straight path
for thine own safety." Thereupon Kahrdash waxed exceeding wroth,
and rage moved him to the cause of his death; so he said to
Kanmakan, "Woe to thee, an thou knew who I be, thou wouldst not
wield these words in the open field.  I am the lion to bash known
as Kahrdash, he who spoileth great Kings and waylayeth all
travellings and seizeth the merchants' preciousest things.  And
the steed under thee is that I am seeking; and I call upon thee
to tell me how thou camest by him and hast him in thy keeping."
Replied Kan makan, "Know thou that this steed was being carried
to my uncle King Sasan, under the escort of an ancient dame high
in rank attended by ten slaves, when thou fellest upon her and
tookest the horse from her; and I have a debt of blood against
this old woman for the sake of my grandfather King Omar bin al
Nu'uman and my uncle King Sharrkan.' "Woe to thee!" quoth
Kahrdash, "who is thy father, O thou that hast no lawful mother?"
Quoth he, "Know that I am Kanmakan, bin Zau al-Makan, son of Omar
bin al-Nu'uman." But when Kahrdash heard this address he said,
"Thy perfection cannot be denied, nor yet the union in thee of
knightly virtue and seemlihead," and he added, "Fare in peace,
for thy father showed us favour." Rejoined Kanmakan, "By Allah, I
will not deign to honour thee, O wretch I disdain, so far as to
overcome thee in battle plain!" Upon this the Badawi waxed wroth
and they drove at each other, shouting aloud, whilst their horses
pricked their ears and raised their tails.[FN#103]  And they
ceased not clashing together with such a crash that it seemed to
each as if the firmament were split in sunder, and they continued
to strive like two rams which butt, smiting and exchanging with
their spears thrust and cut.  Presently Kahrdash foined at
Kanmakan; but he evaded it and rejoined upon him and so pierced
him through the breast that the spearhead issued from his back.
Then he collected the horses and the plunder, and he cried out to
the slaves, saying, "Up and be driving as hard as ye may!"
Hearing this, down came Sabbah and, accosting Kanmakan, said to
him, "Right well hast thou dight, O Knight of the age!  Verily I
prayed Allah for thee and the Lord heard my prayer." Then he cut
off Kahrdash's head and Kanmakan laughed and said, "Woe to thee,
O Sabbah!  I thought thee a rider fain of fight." Quoth the
Badawi, "Forget not thy slave in the division of the spoil, so
haply therewith I may marry my cousin Najmah." Answered Kanmakan,
"Thou shalt assuredly share in it, but now keep watch over the
booty and the slaves." Then he set out for his home and he ceased
not journeying night and day till he drew near Baghdad city, and
all the troops heard of Kanmakan, and saw what was his of loot
and cattle and the horse-thief's head on the point of Sabbah's
spear.  Also (for he was a noted highwayman) the merchants knew
Kahrdash's head and rejoiced, saying, "Allah hath rid mankind of
him!"; and they marvelled at his being slain and blessed his
slayer.  Thereupon all the people of Baghdad came to Kanmakan,
seeking to know what adventures had befallen him, and he told
them what had passed, whereupon all men were taken with awe of
him and the Knights and champions feared him.  Then he drove his
spoil under the palace walls; and, planting the spear heel, on
whose point was Kahrdash's head, over against the royal gate,
gave largesse to the people of Baghdad, distributing horses and
camels, so that all loved him and their hearts inclined to him.
Presently he took Sabbah and lodged him in a spacious dwelling
and gave him a share of the loot; after which he went in to his
mother and told her all that had befallen him in his last
journey.  Meanwhile the news of him reached the King, who rose
from his levee and, shutting himself up with his chief officers,
said to them, "Know ye that I desire to reveal to you my secret
and acquaint you with the hidden facts of my case.  And further
know that Kanmakan will be the cause of our being uprooted from
this kingdom, our birth place; for he hath slain Kahrdash, albeit
he had with him the tribes of the Kurds and the Turks, and our
affair with him will end in our destruction, seeing that the most
part of our troops are his kinsmen and ye weet what the Wazir
Dandan hath done; how he disowneth me, after all I have shown him
of favours; and after being faithful he hath turned traitor.
Indeed it hath reached me that he hath levied an army in the
provinces and hath planned to make Kanmakan Sultan, for that the
Sultanate was his father's and his grandfather's; and assuredly
he will slay me without mercy." Now when the Lords of the Realm
heard from him these words, they replied, "O King, verily this
man.[FN#104] is unequal to this, and did we not know him to have
been reared by thee, not one of us would approve of him.  And
know thou that we are at thy commandment; if thou desire his
death, we will do him die; and if thou wilt remove him, we will
remove him." Now when King Sasan heard this, he said, "Verily, to
slay him were wise; but needs must ye swear an oath to it." So
all sware to slay Kanmakan without giving him a chance; to the
end that, when the Wazir Dandan should come and hear of his
death, his force might be weakened and he fail of his design.
When they had made this compact and covenant with trim, the king
honoured them with the highest honours and presently retired to
his own apartments.  But the officers deserted him and the troops
refused their service and would neither mount nor dismount until
they should espy what might befal, for they saw that most of the
army was with the Wazir Dandan.  Presently, the news of these
things came to Kuzia Fakan and caused her much concern; so that
she sent for the old woman who was wont to carry messages between
her and her cousin, and when she came, bade her go to him and
warn him of the plot.  Whereto he replied, "Bear my salutation to
the daughter of my uncle and say to her, 'Verily the earth is of
Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty!), and He giveth it as
heritage to whomsoever of His servants He willeth.' How excellent
is the saying of the sayer,

'Allah holds Kingship!  Whoso seeks without Him victory *
     Shall be cast out, with soul condemned to Hell of low
     degree:
Had I or any other man a finger breadth of land, *
     The rule were changed and men a twain of partner gods would
     see.' "

Then the old woman returned to Kuzia Fakan and told her his reply
and acquainted her that he abode in the city.  Meanwhile, King
Sasan awaited his faring forth from Baghdad, that he might send
after him some who would slay him; till it befel one morning that
Kanmakan went out to course and chase, accompanied by Sabbah, who
would not leave him night or day.  He caught ten gazelles and
among them one that had tender black eyes and turned right and
left: so he let her go and Sabbah said to him, "Why didst thou
free this gazelle?" Kanmakan laughed and set the others free
also, saying, "It is only humane to release gazelles that have
young, and this one turned not from side to side, save to look
for her fawns: so I let her go and released the others in her
honour." Quoth Sabbah, "Do thou release me, that I may go to my
people." At this Kanmakan laughed and smote him with the spear
butt on the breast, and he fell to the ground squirming like a
snake.  Whilst they were thus doing, behold, they saw a dust
cloud spireing high and heard the tramp of horses; and presently
there appeared under it a plump of knights and braves.  Now the
cause of their coming was this.  Some of his followers had
acquainted King Sasan with Kanmakan's going out to the chase; so
he sent for an Emir of the Daylamites, called Jámi' and twenty of
his horsemen; and gave them money and bade them slay Kanmaken.
So when they drew near the Prince, they charged down upon him and
he met them in mid-charge and killed them all, to the last man.
And behold, King Sasan took horse and riding out to meet his
people, found them all slain, whereat he wondered and turned
back; when lo!  the people of the city laid hands on him and
bound him straitly.  As for Kanmakan after that adventure, he
left the place behind him and rode onward with Sabbah the Badawi.
And the while he went, lo!  he saw a youth sitting at the door of
a house on his road and saluted him.  The youth returned his
greeting and, going into the house, brought out two platters, one
full of soured milk and the other of brewis swimming in clarified
butter; and he set the platter before Kanmakan, saying "Favour us
by eating of our victual." But he refused and quoth the young man
to him, "What aileth thee, O man, that thou wilt not eat?" Quoth
Kanmakan, "I have a vow upon me." The youth asked, "What is the
cause of thy vow?", and Kanmakan answered, "Know that King Sasan
seized upon my kingdom like a tyrant and an enemy, although it
was my father's and my grand father's before me; yet he became
master of it by force after my father's death and took no count
of me, by reason of my tender years.  So I have bound myself by a
vow to eat no man's victual till I have eased my heart of my
foe." Rejoined the youth, "Rejoice, for Allah hath fulfilled thy
vow.  Know that he hath been prisoned in a certain place and
methinks he will soon die." Asked Kanmakan, "In what house is he
confined?" "Under yon high dome," answered the other.  The Prince
looked and saw the folk entering and buffeting Sasan, who was
suffering the agonies of the dying.  So he arose and went up to
the pavilion and noted what was therein; after which he returned
to his place and, sitting down to the proferred victual, ate what
sufficed him and put the rest in his wallet.  Then he took seat
in his own place and ceased not sitting till it was dark night
and the youth, whose guest he was slept; when he rose and
repaired to the pavilion wherein Sasan was confined.  Now about
it were dogs guarding it, and one of them sprang at him; so he
took out of his budget a bit of meat and threw it to him.  He
ceased not casting flesh to the dogs till he came to the pavilion
and, making his way to where King Sasan was, laid his hand upon
his head; whereupon he said in a loud voice, "Who art thou?" He
replied, "I am Kanmakan whom thou stravest to kill; but Allah
made thee fall into thine evil device.  Did it not suffice thee
to take my kingdom and the kingdom of my father, but thou must
purpose to slay me?"[FN#105]  And Sasan swore a false oath that
he had not plotted his death and that the bruit was untrue.  So
Kanmakan forgave him and said to him, "Follow me." Quoth he, "I
cannot walk a single step for weakness." Quoth Kanmakan, "If the
case be thus we will get us two horses and ride forth, I and
thou, and seek the open." So he did as he said, and he took horse
with Sasan and rode till day break, when they prayed the dawn
prayer and fared on, and ceased not faring till they came to a
garden, where they sat down and talked.  Then Kanmakan rose to
Sasan and said, "Is aught left to set thy heart against me?" "No,
by Allah!" replied Sasan.  So they agreed to return to Baghdad
and Sabbah the Badawi said, "I will go before you, to give folk
the fair tidings of your coming." Then he rode on in advance,
acquainting women and men with the good news; so all the people
came out to meet Kanmakan with tabrets and pipes; and Kuzia Fakan
also came out, like the full moon shining in all her splendour of
light through the thick darkness of the night.  So Kanmakan met
her, and soul yearned to soul and body longed for body.  There
was no talk among the people of the time but of Kanmakan; for the
Knights bore witness of him that he was the most valiant of the
folk of the age and said, "It is not right that other than
Kanmakan should be our Sultan, but the throne of his grandfather
shall revert to him as it began." Meanwhile Sasan went in to his
wife, Nuzhat al-Zaman, who said to him, "I hear that the folk
talk of nothing but Kanmakan and attribute to him such qualities
as tongue never can." He replied, "Hearing of a man is not like
seeing a man.  I have seen him, but have noted in him none of the
attributes of perfection.  Not all that is heard is said; but
folk ape one another in extolling and cherishing him, and Allah
maketh his praises to run on the lips of men, so that there
incline to him the hearts of the people of Baghdad and of the
Wazir Dandan, that perfidious and treacherous man; who hath
levied troops from all lands and taketh to himself the right of
naming a King of the country; and who chooseth that it shall be
under the hand of an orphan ruler whose worth is naught." Asked
Nuzhat al-Zaman, "What then is it that thou purposest to do?";
and the King answered, "I mean to kill him, that the Wazir may be
baulked of his intent and return to his allegiance, seeing
nothing for it but my service." Quoth she, "In good sooth perfidy
with strangers is a foul thing and how much more with kith and
kin!  The righteous deed to do would be to marry him to thy
daughter Kuzia Fakan and give heed to what was said of old time,

'An Fate some person 'stablish o'er thy head, *
     And thou being worthier her choice upbraid,
Yet do him honour due to his estate; *
     He'll bring thee weal though far or near thou vade:
Nor speak thy thought of him, else shalt thou be *
     Of those who self degrade from honour's grade:
Many Haríms are lovelier than the Bride, *
     But Time and Fortune lent the Bride their aid.'"

When Sasan heard these her words and comprehended what her verse
intended, he rose from her in anger and said, "Were it not that
thy death would bring on me dishonour and disgrace, I would take
off thy head with my blade and make an end of thy breath." Quoth
she, "Why art thou wroth with me?  I did but jest with thee."
Then she rose to him and bussed his head and hands, saying,
"Right is thy foresight, and I and thou will cast about for some
means to kill him forthright." When he heard this, he was glad
and said, "Make haste and contrive some deceit to relieve me of
my grieving: for in my sooth the door of device is straitened
upon me!" Replied she, "At once I will devise for thee to do away
his life." "How so?" asked he; and she answered, "By means of our
female slave the so-called Bákún." Now this Bakun was past
mistress in all kinds of knavery and was one of the most
pestilent of old women, in whose religion to abstain from
wickedness was not lawful; she had brought up Kuzia Fakan and
Kanmakan who had her in so great affection that he used to sleep
at her feet.  So when King Sasan heard his wife name her, he
said, "Right is this recking"; and, sending for the old woman,
told her what had passed and bade her cast about to kill
Kanmaken, promising her all good.  Replied she, "Thy bidding
shall be obeyed; but I would have thee, O my lord, give me a
dagger[FN#106] which hath been tempered in water of death, that I
may despatch him the speedilier for thee." Quoth Sasan, "And
welcome to thee!"; and gave her a hanger that would devance man's
destiny.  Now this slave women had heard stories and verses and
had learned by rote great store of strange sayings and anecdotes:
so she took the dagger and went out of the room, considering how
she could compass his doom.  Then she repaired to Kanmakan, who
was sitting and awaiting news of tryst with the daughter of his
uncle, Kuzia Fakan; so that night his thought was taken up with
her and the fires of love for her raged in his heart.  And while
he was thus, behold, the slave woman, Bakun, went in to him and
said, "Union time is at hand and the days of disunion are over
and gone." Now when he heard this he asked, "How is it with Kuzia
Fakan?"; and Bakun answered, "Know that her time is wholly taken
up with love of thee." At this he rose and doffing his outer
clothes put them on her and promised her all good.  Then said
she, "Know that I mean to pass this night with thee, that I may
tell thee what talk I have heard and console thee with stories of
many passion distraughts whom love hath made sick." "Nay," quoth
he, "rather tell me a tale that will gladden my heart and gar my
cares depart." "With joy and good will," answered she; then she
took seat by his side (and that poniard under her dress) and
began to say: "Know thou that the pleasantest thing my ears ever
heard was



The Tale of the Hashish Eater.



A certain man loved fair women, and spent his substance on them,
till he became so poor that nothing remained to him; the world
was straitened upon him and he used to go about the market-
streets begging his daily bread.  Once upon a time as he went
along, behold, a bit of iron nail pierced his finger and drew
blood; so he sat down and wiping away the blood, bound up his
finger.  Then he arose crying out, and fared forwards till he
came to a Hammam and entering took off his clothes, and when he
looked about him he found it clean and empty.  So he sat him down
by the fountain-basin, and ceased not pouring water on his head,
till he was tired.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Forty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the man sat
down by the fountain basin and ceased not pouring water on his
head till he was tired.  Then he went out to the room in which
was the cistern of cold water; and seeing no one there, he found
a quiet corner and taking out a piece of Hashísh,[FN#107]
swallowed it.  Presently the fumes mounted to his brain and he
rolled over on to the marble floor.  Then the Hashish made him
fancy that a great lord was shampooing him and that two slaves
stood at his head, one bearing a bowl and the other washing gear
and all the requisites of the Hammam.  When he saw this, he said
in himself, "Meseemeth these here be mistaken in me; or else they
are of the company of us Hashish-eaters."[FN#108]  Then he
stretched out his legs and he imagined that the bathman said to
him, "O my master, the time of thy going up to the Palace draweth
near and it is to-day thy turn of service." At this he laughed
and said to himself, "As Allah willeth,[FN#109] O Hashish!" Then
he sat and said nothing, whilst the bathman arose and took him by
the hand and girt his middle with a waist-cloth of black silk,
after which the two slaves followed him with the bowls and gear,
and they ceased not escorting him till they brought him into a
cabinet, wherein they set incense and perfumes a-burning.  He
found the place full of various kinds of fruits and sweet-scented
flowers, and they sliced him a watermelon and seated him on a
stool of ebony, whilst the bathman stood to wash him and the
slaves poured water on him; after which they rubbed him down well
and said, "O our lord, Sir Wazir, health to thee forever!" Then
they went out and shut the door on him; and in the vanity of
phantasy he arose and removed the waist-cloth from his middle,
and laughed till he well nigh fainted.  He gave not over laughing
for some time and at last quoth he to himself, "What aileth them
to address me as if I were a Minister and style me Master, and
Sir?  Haply they are now blundering; but after an hour they will
know me and say, This fellow is a beggar; and take their fill of
cuffing me on the neck." Presently, feeling hot he opened the
door, whereupon it seemed to him that a little white slave and an
eunuch came in to him carrying a parcel.  Then the slave opened
it and brought out three kerchiefs of silk, one of which he threw
over his head, a second over his shoulders and a third he tied
round his waist.  Moreover, the eunuch gave him a pair of bath-
clogs,[FN#110] and he put them on; after which in came white
slaves and eunuchs and sup ported him (and he laughing the while)
to the outer hall, which he found hung and spread with
magnificent furniture, such as be seemeth none but kings; and the
pages hastened up to him and seated him on the divan.  Then they
fell to kneading him till sleep overcame him; and he dreamt that
he had a girl in his arms.  So he kissed her and set her between
his thighs; then, sitting to her as a man sitteth to a
woman,[FN#111] he took yard in hand and drew her towards him and
weighed down upon her, when lo!  he heard one saying to him,
"Awake, thou ne'er-do-well!  The noon hour is come and thou art
still asleep." He opened his eyes and found him self lying on the
merge of the cold-water tank, amongst a crowd of people all
laughing at him; for his prickle was at point and the napkin had
slipped from his middle.  So he knew that all this was but a
confusion of dreams and an illusion of Hashish and he was vexed
and said to him who had aroused him, "Would thou hadst waited
till I had put it in!" Then said the folk, "Art thou not ashamed,
O Hashish-eater, to be sleeping stark naked with stiff standing
tool?" And they cuffed him till his neck was red.  Now he was
starving, yet forsooth had he savoured the flavour of pleasure in
his dream.  When Kanmakan heard the bondwoman's tale, he laughed
till he fell backward and said to Bakun, "O my nurse, this is
indeed a rare story and a delectable; I never heard the like of
this anecdote.  Say me!  hast more?" "Yes," replied she, and she
ceased not to tell him merry adventures and laughable
absurdities, till sleep overcame him.  Then she sat by his head
till the most part of the night was past, when she said to
herself, "It is time to profit by the occasion." So she sprang to
her feet and unsheathed the hanger and rushing up to Kanmakan,
was about to cut his throat when behold, his mother came in upon
the twain.  As soon as Bakun saw her, she rose in respect and
advanced to meet her, and fear get hold of her and she fell a-
trembling, as if he had the ague.  When his mother looked at her
she marvelled to see her thus and aroused her son, who awoke and
found her sitting at his head.  Now the cause of her coming was
that Kuzia Fakan overheard the conversation and the concert to
kill Kanmakan, and she said to his mother, "O wife of my uncle,
go to thy son, ere that wicked whore Bakun murther him;" and she
told her what had passed from first to last.  So she fared forth
at once, and she thought of naught and stayed not for aught till
she went in to her son at the very moment when Bakun was about to
slay him in his sleep.  When he awoke, he said to his mother, "O
my mother, indeed thou comest at a good time, for nurse Bakun
hath been with me this night." Then he turned to Bakun and asked
her, "By my life!  knowest thou any story better than those thou
hast told me?" She answered, "And where is what I have told thee
compared with what I will tell thee?; but however better it be,
it must be told at another time." Then she rose to depart, hardly
believing, in her escape albeit he said, "Go in peace!" for she
perceived by her cunning that his mother knew what had occurred.
So she went her way; whereupon his mother said to him, "O my son,
blessed be this night, for that Almighty Allah hath delivered
thee from this accursed woman." "And how so?" enquired he, and
she told him the story from beginning to end.  Quoth he, "O my
mother, of a truth the live man findeth no slayer, and though
slain he shall not die; but now it were wiser that we depart from
amongst these enemies and let Allah work what He will." So, when
day dawned he left the city and joined the Wazir Dandan, and
after his departure, certain things befel between King Sasan and
Nuzhat al-Zaman, which compelled her also to quit the city and
join herself to them; and presently they were met by all the high
officers of King Sasan who inclined to their party.  Then they
sat in counsel together devising what they should do, and at last
all agreed upon a razzia into the land of Roum there to take
their revenge for the death of King Omar bin al-Nu'uman and his
son Sharrkan.  So they set out with this in tent and, after
sundry adventures (which it were tedious to tell as will appear
from what follows), they fell into the hands of Rúmzán, King of
the Greeks.  Next morning, King Rumzan caused Kanmakan and the
Wazir Dandan and their company to be brought before him and, when
they came, he seated them at his side, and bade spread the tables
of food.  So they ate and drank and took heart of grace, after
having made sure of death, when they were summoned to the King's
presence; and they had said to one another, "He hath not sent for
us but to slay us." And when they were comforted the King said,
"In truth I have had a dream, which I related to the monks, and
they said, "None can expound it to thee save the Wazir Dandan."
Quoth the Minister, "Weal it was thou didst see in thy dream, O
King of the age!" Quoth the King, "O Wazir, I dreamt that I was
in a pit which seemed a black well where multitudes were
tormenting me; and I would have risen, but when springing up I
fell on my feet and could not get out of that same pit.  Then I
turned and saw therein a girdle of gold and I stretched out my
hand to take it; but when I raised it from the ground, I saw it
was two girdles.  So I girt my middle with them both and behold,
the girdles became one girdle; and this, O Wazir, is my dream and
what I saw when my sleep was deepest." Said Dandan, "O our Lord
the Sultan!  know that this thy dream denoteth thou hast a
brother or a brother's son or an uncle's son or other near
kinsman of thy flesh and blood whom thou knowest not; withal he
is of the noblest of you all." Now when the King heard these
words he looked at Kanmakan and Nuzhat al-Zaman and Kuzia Fakan
and the Wazir Dandan and the rest of the captives and said to
himself, "If I smite these people's necks, their troops will lose
heart for the destruction of their chiefs and I shall be able to
return speedily to my realm, lest the Kingship pass out of my
hands." So having determined upon this he called the Sworder and
bade him strike off Kanmakan's head upon the spot and forthright,
when lo!  up came Rumzan's nurse and said to him, "O auspicious
King, what purposest thou?" Quoth he, "I purpose slaughtering
these prisoners who are in my power; and after that I will throw
their heads among their men: then will I fall upon them, I and
all my army in one body, and kill all we can kill and rout the
rest: so will this be the decisive action of the war and I shall
return speedily to my kingdom ere aught of accident befal among
my subjects." When the nurse heard these words, she came up to
him and said in the Frankish tongue, "How canst thou prevail upon
thyself to slay thine own brother's son, and thy sister, and thy
sister's daughter?" When he heard this language, he was wroth
with exceeding wrath and said to her, "O accursed woman, didst
thou not tell me that my mother was murthered and that my father
died by poison?  Didst thou not give me a jewel and say to me,
'Of a truth this jewel was thy father's?' Why didst thou not tell
me the truth?" Replied she, "All that I told thee is true, but my
case and thy case are wonderful and my history and thy his tory
are marvellous.  My name is Marjanah and thy mother's name was
Abrizah: and she was gifted with such beauty and loveliness and
velour that proverbs were made of her, and her prowess was
renowned among men of war.  And thy father was King Omar bin al-
Nu'uman, Lord of Baghdad and Khorasan, without doubt or double
dealing or denial.  He sent his son Sharrkan on a razzia in
company with this very Wazir Dandan; and they did all that men
can.  But Sharrkan, thy brother, who had preceded the force,
separated himself from the troops and fell in with thy mother
Queen Abrizah in her palace; and we happened to have sought a
place apart in order to wrestle, she and I and her other damsels.
He came upon us by chance while we were in such case, and
wrestled with thy mother, who overcame him by the power of her
splendid beauty and by her prowess.  Then she entertained him
five days in her palace, till the news of this came to her
father, by the old woman Shawahi, surnamed Zat al-Dawahi,
whereupon she embraced Al-Islam at the hands of Sharrkan, and he
took her and carried her by stealth to Baghdad, and with her
myself and Rayhánab and twenty other damsels, all of us having,
like her, followed the True Faith.  When we came into the
presence of thy Father, the King Omar bin al-Nu'uman, and he saw
thy mother, Queen Abrizah, he fell in love with her and going in
unto her one night, had connection with her, and she conceived by
him and became with child of thee.  Now thy mother had three
jewels which she presented to thy father; and he gave one of them
to his daughter, Nuzhat al-Zaman, another to thy brother, Zau al-
Makan, and the third to thy brother Sharrkan.  This last thy
mother took from Sharrkan and kept it for thee.  But as the time
of her delivery drew near she yearned after her own people and
disclosed to me her secret; so I went to a black slave called Al-
Ghazban; and, privily telling him our case, bribed him to go with
us.  Accordingly the negro took us and fled the city with us, thy
mother being near her time.  But as we approached a desert place
on the borders of our own country, the pangs of labour came upon
thy mother.  Then the slave proved himself a lustful villain and
approaching her sought of her a shameful thing; whereupon she
cried out at him with a loud cry, and was sore affrighted at him.
In the excess of her fright she gave birth to thee at once, and
at that moment there arose, in the direction of our country, a
dust-cloud which towered and flew till it walled the view.
Thereupon the slave feared for his life; so he smote Queen
Abrizah with his sword and slew her in his fury; then mounting
his horse he went his way.  Soon after his going, the dust lifted
and discovered thy grandfather, King Hardub, Lord of Græcia-land,
who, seeing thy mother (and his daughter) lying slain on the
plain, was sorely troubled with a distress that redoubled, and
questioned me of the manner of her death and the cause of her
secretly quitting her father's realm.  So I told him all that had
passed, first and last; and this is the cause of the feud between
the people of the land of the Greeks and the people of the city
of Baghdad.  Then we bore off thy murthered mother and buried
her; and I took thee and reared thee, and hung about thy neck the
jewel which was with Queen Abrizah.  But, when being grown up
thou camest to man's estate, I dared not acquaint thee with the
truth of the matter, lest such information stir up a war of blood
revenge between you.  More over, thy grandfather had enjoined me
to secrecy, and I could not gainsay the commandment of thy
mother's father, Hardub, King of the Greeks.  This, then, is the
cause of my concealment and the reason why I forbore to inform
thee that thy father was King Omar bin al-Nu'uman; but when thou
camest to the throne, I told thee what thou knowest; and I durst
not reveal to thee the rest till this moment, O King of the Age!
So now I have discovered to thee my secret and my proof, and I
have acquainted thee with all I know; and thou reckest best what
is in thy mind." Now all the captives had heard the slave woman
Marjanah, nurse to King Rumzan, speaking as she spake; when
Nuzhat al-Zaman, without stay or delay, cried out, saying, "This
King Rumzan is my brother by my father, King Omar bin al-Nu'uman,
and his mother was Queen Abrizah, daughter of King Hardub, Lord
of the Greeks; and I know this slave-woman Marjanah right well."
With this, trouble and perplexity got hold upon Rumzan and he
caused Nuzhat al-Zaman to be brought up to him forthright.  When
he looked upon her, blood yearned to blood and he questioned her
of his history.  She told him the tale and her story tallied with
that of Marjanah, his nurse; whereupon the King was assured that
he was, indeed and without a doubt, of the people of Irak; and
that King Omar bin al-Nu'uman was his father.  So without losing
time he caused his sister to be unpinioned, and Nuzhat al-Zaman
came up to him and kissed his hands, whilst her eves ran over
with tears.  The King west also to see her weeping, and brotherly
love possessed him and his heart yearned to his brother's son
Sultan Kanmakan.  So he sprang to his feet and, taking the sword
from the Sworder's hands (whereat the captives made sure of
death), he caused them to be set close to him and he cut their
bonds with the blade and said to his nurse Marjanah, "Explain the
matter to this company, even as thou hast explained it to me."
Replied she, "O King, know that this Shayth is the Wazir Dandan
and he is the best of witnesses to my story, seeing that he
knoweth the facts of the case." Then she turned to the captives
and repeated the whole story to them on the spot and forthright,
and in presence of the Kings of the Greeks and the Kings of the
Franks; whereupon Queen Nuzhat al-Zaman and the Wazir Dandan and
all who were prisoners with them confirmed her words.  When
Marjanah, the bond-woman, had finished, chancing to look at
Sultan Kanmakan she saw on his neck the third jewel, fellow to
the two which were with Queen Abrizah; and, recognising it, she
cried so loud a cry, that the palace re-echoed it and said to the
King, "O my son, know that now my certainty is still more
assured, for this jewel that is about the neck of yonder captive
is the fellow to that I hung to thy neck; and, these being the
two, this captive is indeed thy brother's son, Kanmakan." Then
the slave women Marjanah turned to Kanmakan and said to him, "Let
me see that jewel, O King of the Age!"; so he took it from his
neck and handed it to her.  Then she asked Nuzhat al-Zaman of the
third jewel and she gave it to her; and when the two were in her
hand she delivered them to King Rumzan, and the truth and proof
were made manifest to him; and he was assured that he was indeed
Sultan Kanmakan's uncle and that his father was King Omar bin al-
Nu'uman.  So he rose at once and on the spot and, going up to the
Wazir Dandan, threw his arms round his neck; then he embraced
King Kanmakan and the twain cried a loud cry for excess of joy.
The glad news was blazed abroad without delay; and they beat the
tabrets and cymbals, whilst the shawms sounded and the people
held high festival.  The armies of Irak and Syria heard the
clamour of rejoicing among the Greeks; so they mounted to the
last man, and King Zibl Khan also took horse saying to himself,
"Would I knew what can be the cause of this clamour and rejoicing
in the army of the Franks and the Greeks!" Then the army of Irak
dight itself for fight and advanced into the plain and place of
cut and foin.  Presently, King Rumzan turned him round and saw
the army deployed and in preparing for battle employed, so he
asked the cause thereof and was told the state of the case.
Thereupon he bade his niece and brother's daughter, Kuzia Fakan,
return at once and forthright to the troops of Syria and Irak and
acquaint them with the plight that had betided and how it was
come to light that King Rumzan was uncle to Sultan Kanmakan.  She
set out, putting away from her sorrows and troubles and, coming
to King Zibl Khan,[FN#112] saluted him and told him all that had
passed of the good accord, and how King Rumzan had proved to be
her uncle and uncle of Kanmakan.  And when she went in to him she
found him tearful eyed, in fear for the captive Emirs and
Princes; but when he heard what had passed, from first to last,
the Moslem's sadness was abated and they joyed with the more
gladness.  Then King Zibl Khan and all his officers and his
retinue took horse and followed Princess Kuzia Fakan till they
reached the pavilion of King Rumzan; and when entering they found
him sitting with his nephew, Sultan Kanmakan.  Now he had taken
counsel with the Wazir Dandan concerning King Zibl Khan and had
agreed to commit to his charge the city of Damascus of Sham and
leave him King over it as he before had been while they
themselves entered Irak.  Accordingly, they confirmed him in the
vice royalty of Damascus of Syria, and bade him set out at once
for his government; so he fared forth with his troops and they
rode with him a part of the way to bid him farewell.  Then they
returned to their own places whereupon, the two armies
foregathered and gave orders for the march upon Irak; but the
Kings said one to other, "Our hearts will never be at rest nor
our wrath cease to rage till we have taken our wreak of the old
woman Shawahi, surnamed Zat al-Dawahi, and wiped away our shame
and blot upon our honour." Thereupon King Rumzan and his nephew
set out, surrounded by their Nobles and Grandees; and indeed
Kanmakan rejoiced in his uncle, King Rumzan, and called down
blessings on nurse Marjanah who had made them known to each
other.  They fared on and ceased not faring till they drew near
their home Baghdad, and when the Chief Chamberlain, Sasan, heard
of their approach, he came out to meet them and kissed the hand
of King Rumzan who bestowed on him a dress of honour.  Then the
King of Roum sat down on the throne and seated by his side his
nephew Sultan Kanmakan, who said to him, "O my uncle, this
Kingdom befitteth none but thee." Replied Rumzan, "Allah be my
refuge and the Lord forbid that I should supplant thee in thy
Kingdom!" Upon this the Wazir Dandan counselled them to share the
throne between the two, ruling each one day in turn; and with
this they were well satisfied.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Forty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the two
Kings agreed each to rule one day in turn: then made they feasts
and offered sacrifices of clean beasts and held high festival;
and they abode thus awhile, whilst Sultan Kanmakan spent his
nights with his cousin Kuzia Fakan.  And after that period, as
the two Kings sat rejoicing in their condition and in the happy
ending of their troubles, behold, they saw a cloud of dust arise
and tower till it walled the world from their eyes.  And out of
it came a merchant shrieking and crying aloud for succour and
saying, "O Kings of the Age!  how cometh it that I woned safely
in the land of the Infidels and I am plundered in your realm,
though it be the biding place of justice[FN#113] and peace?" Then
King Rumzan went up to him and questioned him of his case and he
replied, "I am a merchant and, like other merchants, I have been
long absent from my native land, travelling in far countries for
some twenty years; and I have a patent of exemption from the city
of Damascus which the Viceroy, King Sharrkan (who hath found
mercy) wrote me, for the cause that I had made him gift of a
slave-girl.  Now as I was drawing near my home, having with me an
hundred loads of rarities of Hind, when I brought them near
Baghdad, which be the seat of your sovereignty and the place of
your peace and your justice, out there came upon me wild Arabs
and Kurds[FN#114] in band gathered together from every land; and
they slew my many and they robbed my money and this is what they
have done me." Then the trader wept in presence of King Rumzan,
saying that he was an old man and infirm; and he bemoaned himself
till the King felt for him and had compassion on him; and
likewise did King Kanmakan and they swore that they would sally
forth upon the thieves.  So they set out amid an hundred horse,
each reckoned worth thou sands of men, and the merchant went
before them to guide them in the right way; and they ceased not
faring on all that day and the livelong night till dawnbreak,
when they came to a valley abounding in rills and shady with
trees.  Here they found the foray dispersed about the valley,
having divided that merchant's bales among them; but there was
yet some of the goods left.  So the hundred horsemen fell upon
them and surrounded them on all sides, and King Rumzan shouted
his war cry, and thus also did his nephew Kanmakan, and ere long
they made prize of them all, to the number of near three hundred
horsemen, banded together of the refuse of rascality.[FN#115]
They took what they could find of the merchant's goods and,
binding them tightly, brought them to Baghdad, where King Rumzan
and his nephew, King Kanmakan, sat down together on one throne
and, passing the prisoners in review before them, questioned them
of their case and their chiefs.  They said, "We have no chiefs
but these three men and it was they who gathered us together from
all corners and countries." The Kings said to them, "Point out to
us your headmen!"; and, when this was done, they bade lay hands
on the leaders and set their comrades free, after taking from
them all the goods in their possession and restoring them to the
merchant, who examined his stuffs and monies and found that a
fourth of his stock was missing.  The Kings engaged to make good
the whole of his loss, where upon the trader pulled out two
letters, one in the handwriting of Sharrkan, and the other in
that of Nuzhat al-Zaman; for this was the very merchant who had
bought Nuzhat al-Zaman of the Badawi, when she was a virgin, and
had forwarded her to her brother Sharrkan; and that happened
between them which happened.[FN#116]  Hereupon King Kanmakan
examined the letters and recognised the handwriting of his uncle
Sharrkan, and, having heard the history of his aunt, Nuzhat al-
Zaman, he went in to her with the second letter written by her to
the merchant who had lost through her his monies; Kanmakan also
told her what had befallen the trader from first to last.  She
knew her own handwriting and, recognising the merchant,
despatched to him guest gifts and commended him to her brother
and nephew, who ordered him largesse of money and black slaves
and pages to wait on him; besides which Nuzhat al-Zaman sent him
an hundred thousand dirhams in cash and fifty loads of
merchandise and presented to him other rich presents.  Then she
sent for him and when he came, she went up to him and saluted him
and told him that she was the daughter of King Omar bin al-
Nu'uman and that her brother was King Rumzan and that King
Kanmakan was her nephew.  Thereupon the merchant rejoiced with
great joy, and congratulated her on her safety and on her re-
union with her brother, and kissed her hands thanking her for her
bounty, and said to her, "By Allah!  a good deed is not lost upon
thee!" Then she withdrew to her own apartment and the trader
sojourned with them three days, after which he took leave of them
and set out on his return march to the land of Syria.  Thereupon
the two Kings sent for the three robber chiefs who were of the
highway men, and questioned them of their case, when one of them
came forward and said, "Know ye that I am a Badawi who am wont to
lie in wait, by the way, to snatch small children[FN#117] and
virgin girls and sell them to merchants; and this I did for many
a year until these latter days, when Satan incited me to join yon
two gallows birds in gathering together all the riff-raff of the
Arabs and other peoples, that we might plunder merchandise and
waylay merchants." Said the Kings, "Tell us the rarest of the
adventures that have befallen thee in kidnapping children and
maidens." Replied he, "O Kings of the Age, the strangest thing
that happened to me was that one day, two-and-twenty years ago, I
snatched a girl who belonged to the Holy City; she was gifted
with beauty and comeliness, despite that she was but a servant
and was clad in threadbare clothes, with a piece of camlet-cloth
on her head.  So I entrapped her by guile as she came out of the
caravanserai; and at that very hour mounting her on a camel, made
off with her, thinking to carry her to my own people in the
Desert and there set her to pasture the camels and gather their
droppings in the valley.  But she wept with so sore a weeping
that after coming down upon her with blows, I took her and
carried her to Damascus city where a merchant saw her with me
and, being astounded at her beauty and marvelling at her
accomplishments, wished to buy her of me and kept on bidding me
more and more for her, till at last I sold her to him for an
hundred thousand dirhams.  After selling her I heard her display
prodigious eloquence; and it reached me that the merchant clothed
her in handsome gear and presented her to the Viceroy of
Damascus, who gave him three times the price which he had paid to
me, and this price, by my life!  was but little for such a
damsel.  This, O Kings of the Age, is the strangest thing that
ever befel me." When the two Kings heard her story they wondered
thereat, but when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard what the Badawi related,
the light became darkness before her face and she cried out and
said to her brother Rumzan, "Sure and sans doubt this is the very
Badawi who kidnapped me in the Holy City Jerusalem!" Then she
told them all that she had endured from him in her stranger hood
of hardship, blows, hunger, humiliation, contempt, adding, "And
now it is lawful for me to slay him." So saying she seized a
sword and made at him to smite him; and behold, he cried out and
said, "O Kings of the Age, suffer her not to slay me, till I
shall have told you the rare adventures that have betided me."
And her nephew Kanmakan said to her, "O my aunt, let him tell us
his tale, and after that do with him as thou wilt." So she held
her hand and the Kings said to him, "Now let us hear thy
history." Quoth he, "O Kings of the Age, if I tell you a rare
tale will ye pardon me?" "Yes," answered they.  Then the Badawi
robber-chief began,



The Tale of Hammad the Badawi.



And he said:--Know ye that a short while ago, I was sore wakeful
one night and thought the morn would never dawn; so, as soon as
it was break of day I rose, without stay or delay; and, slinging
over my shoulder my sword, mounted horse and set my lance in
rest.  Then I rode out to sport and hunt and, as I went along, a
company of men accosted me and asked me whither I was bound I
told them and they said, "We will keep thee company." So we all
fared on together, and, whilst we were faring, lo and behold!  up
started an ostrich and we gave her chase, but she escaped our
pursuit and spreading wings ceased not to fly before us (and we
following by sight) till she lost us in a desert wherein there
was neither grass nor water, nor heard we aught therein save hiss
of snake and wail of Jinn and howl of Ghul; and when we reached
that place the ostrich disappeared nor could we tell whether she
had flown up into the sky or into the ground had gone down.  Then
we turned our horses' heads and thought to return; but found that
to retrace our steps at that time of burning heat would be
toilsome and dangerous; for the sultry air was grievous to us, so
that we thirsted with sore thirst and our steeds stood still.  We
made sure of death; but while we were in this case we suddenly
espied from afar a spacious mead where gazelles were frisking
Therein was a tent pitched and by the tent side a horse tethered
and a spear was planted with head glittering in the sun.[FN#118]
Upon this our hearts revived after we had despaired, and we
turned our horses' heads towards that tent making for the meadow
and the water which irrigated it; and all my comrades fared for
it and I at their head, and we ceased not faring till we reached
the mead.  Then we alighted at the spring and watered our beasts.
But I was seized with a fever of foolish curiosity and went up to
the door of that tent, wherein I saw a young man, without hair on
his cheeks, who fellowed the new moon; and on his right hand was
a slender-waisted maid, as she were a willow-wand.  No sooner did
I set eyes on her than love get hold upon my heart and I saluted
the youth, who returned my greeting.  Then said I, "O my brother,
tell me who thou art and what to thee is this damsel sitting by
thy side?"[FN#119]  Thereupon the youth bent his head groundwards
awhile, then raised it and replied, "Tell me first who thou art
and what are these horsemen with thee?" Answered I, "I am Hammad
son of al-Fazari, the renowned knight, who is reckoned among the
Arabs as five hundred horse.  We went forth from our place this
morning to sport and chase and were overcome by thirst; so I came
to the door of this tent, thinking haply to get of thee a draught
of water." When he heard these my words, he turned to the fair
maiden and said, "Bring this man water and what food there is
ready." So she arose trailing her skirts, whilst the golden
bangles tinkled on her ankles and her feet stumbled in her long
locks, and she disappeared for a little while.  Presently she
returned bearing in her right hand a silver vessel full of cold
water and in her left hand a bowl brimming with milk and dates,
together with some flesh of wild cattle.  But I could take of her
nor meat nor drink for the excess of my passion, and I applied to
her these two couplets, saying,

"It was as though the sable dye[FN#120] upon her palms, *
     Were raven perching on a swathe of freshest snow;
Thou seest Sun and Moon conjoined in her face, *
     While Sun fear-dimmed and Moon fright-pallid show."

After I had eaten and drunk I said to the youth, "Know thou, O
Chief of the Arabs, that I have told thee in all truth who and
what I am, and now I would fain have thee do the like by me and
tell me the truth of thy case." Replied the young man, "As for
this damsel she is my sister." Quoth I, "It is my desire that
thou give me her to wife of thy free will: else will I slay thee
and take her by force." Upon this, he bowed his head groundwards
awhile, then he raised his eyes to me and answered, "Thou sayest
sooth in avouching thyself a renowned knight and famed in fight
and verily thou art the lion of the desert; but if ye all attack
me treacherously and slay me in your wrath and take my sister by
force, it will be a stain upon your honour.  An you be, as ye
aver, cavaliers who are counted among the Champions and reck not
the shock of foray and fray, give me a little time to don my
armour and sling on my sword and set lance in rest and mount war
steed.  Then will we go forth into the field of fight, I and you;
and, if I conquer you, I will kill you to the last man; but if
you overcome me and slay me, this damsel, my sister, is yours."
Hearing such words I replied, "This is only just, and we oppose
it not." Then I turned back my horse's head (for my love for the
damsel waxed hotter and hotter) and returned to my companions, to
whom I set forth her beauty and loveliness as also the comeliness
of the young man who was with her, together with his velour and
strength of soul and how he had avouched himself a match for a
thousand horse.  Moreover, I described to my company the tent and
all the riches and rarities therein and said to them, "Know ye
that this youth would not have cut himself off from society and
have taken up his abode alone in this place, were he not a man of
great prowess: so I propose that whoso slayeth the younker shall
take his sister." And they said, "This contenteth us." Then my
company armed themselves and mounting, rode to the tent, where we
found that the young man had donned his gear and backed his
steed; but his sister ran up to him (her veil being drenched with
tears), and took hold of his stirrup and cried out, saying,
"Alas!" and, "Woe worth the day!" in her fear for her brother,
and recited these couplets,

"To Allah will I make my moan of travail and of woe, *
     Maybe Iláh of Arsh[FN#121] will smite their faces with
     affright:
Fain would they slay thee, brother mine, with purpose
     felon-fell; * Albe no cause of vengeance was, nor fault
     forewent the fight.
Yet for a rider art thou known to those who back the steed, *
     And twixt the East and West of knights thou art the prowess
     knight:
Thy sister's honour thou shalt guard though little might be
     hers, * For thou'rt her brother and for thee she sueth
     Allah's might:
Then let not enemy possess my soul nor 'thrall my frame, *
     And work on me their will and treat thy sister with
     despight.
I'll ne'er abide, by Allah's truth, in any land or home *
     Where thou art not, though dight it be with joyance and
     delight
For love and yearning after thee myself I fain will slay, *
     And in the gloomy darksome tomb spread bed upon the clay."

But when her brother heard her verse he wept with sore weeping
and turned his horse's head towards his sister and made this
answer to her poetry,

"Stand by and see the derring-do which I to-day will show, *
     When meet we and I deal them blows that rend and cleave and
     split;
E'en though rush out to seek a bout the lion of the war, *
     The stoutest hearted brave of all and eke the best in wit;
To him I'll deal without delay a Sa'alabiyan blow,[FN#122] *
     And dye my cane-spear's joint in blood by wound of foe
     bespit:
If all I beat not off from thee, O sister, may this frame *
     Be slain, and cast my corpse to birds, for so it would
     befit:
Yes, for thy dearest sake I'll strike my blows with might and
     main, * And when we're gone shall this event in many a book
     be writ."

And when he had ended his verse, he said, "O my sister, give ear
to what I shall enjoin on thee"; whereto she replied, "Hearkening
and obedience." Quoth he, "If I fall, let none possess thy
person;" and thereupon she buffeted her face and said, "Allah
forbid, O my brother, that I should see thee laid low and yield
myself to thy foe!" With this the youth put out his hand to her
and withdrew her veil from her face, whereupon it shone forth as
the sun shineth out from the white clouds.  Then he kissed her
between the eyes and bade her farewell; after which he turned to
us and said, "Holla, Knights!  Come ye as guests or crave ye cuts
and thrusts?  If ye come to us as your hosts, rejoice ye in the
guest rite; and, if ye covet the shining moon, come ye out
against me, knight by knight, into this plain and place of
fight." There upon rushed out to him a doughty rider and the
young man said to him, "Tell me thy name and thy father's name,
for I am under an oath not to slay any whose name tallies with
mine and whose father's name is that of my father; and if this be
the case with thee, I will give thee up the maid." Quoth the
horseman, "My name is Bilál;"[FN#123] and the young man answered
him, saying,

"Thou liest when speaking of 'benefits,' while *
     Thou comest to front with shine evillest will
An of prowess thou'rt prow, to my words give ear, *
     I'm he who make' champions in battle-field reel
With keen blade, like the horn of the cusped moon, *
     So 'ware thrust the, shall drill through the duress hill!"

Then they charged down, each at each, and the youth thrust his
adversary in the breast so that the lance head issued from his
back.  With tints, another came out, and the youth cried,

"Ho thou hound, who art rotten with foulness in grain,[FN#124] *
     What high meed is there easy for warrior to gain?
'Tis none save the lion of strain purest pure *
     Who uncareth for life in the battle plain!"

Nor was it long before the youth left him drowned in his blood
and cried out, "Who will come forth to me?" So a third horse man
rushed out upon the youth and began saying,

"To thee come I forth with my heart a-flame, *
     And summon my friends and my comrades by name:
When thou slewest the chief of the Arabs this day, *
     This day thou remainest the pledge of my claim."

Now when the youth heard this he answered him in these words,

"Thou liest, O foulest of Satans that are, *
     And with easings calumnious thou comest to war
This day thou shalt fall by a death dealing point *
     Where the lances lunge and the scymitars jar!"

Then he so foined him in the breast that the spear-point issued
from his back and he cried out, saying, "Ho!  will none come out?
So a fourth fared forwards and the youth asked him his name and
he answered, "My name is Hilál, the New Moon." And the youth
began repeating,

"Thou hast failed who would sink me in ruin sea, *
     Thou who camest in malice with perfidy:
I, whose verses hast heard from the mouth of me, *
     Will ravish thy soul though unknown to thee."

Then they drave at each other and delivered two cuts, but the
youth's stroke devanced that of the rider his adversary and slew
him: and thus he went on to kill all who sallied out against him.
Now when I saw my comrades slain, I said to myself, "If I go down
to fight with him, I shall not be able to prevail against him;
and, if I flee, I shall become a byword of shame among the
Arabs." But the youth gave me no time to think, for he ran at me
and dragged me from my saddle and hurled me to the ground.  I
fainted at the fall and he raised his sword designing to cut off
my head; but I clung to his skirts, and he lifted me in his hand
as though I were a sparrow.  When the maiden saw this, she
rejoiced in her brother's prowess and coming up to him, kissed
him between the eyes.  Then he delivered me to her, saying, "Take
him and look to him and entreat him hospitably, for he is come
under our rule." So she took hold of the collar of my
hauberk[FN#125] and led me away by it as one would lead a dog.
Then she did off her brother's coat of mail and clad him in a
robe, and set for him a stool of ivory, on which he sat down; and
she said to him, "Allah whiten thy honour and prevent from thee
the shifts of fortune!" And he answered her with these couplets,

"My sister said, as saw she how I stood *
     In fight, when sun-rays lit my knightlihood
'Allah assain thee for a Brave of braves *
     To whom in vale bow lions howso wood!'
Quoth I, 'Go ask the champions of my case, *
     When feared the Lords of war my warrior mood!
My name is famed for fortune and for force, *
     And soared my spirit to such altitude,'
Ho thou, Hammád, a lion hast upstirred, *
     Shall show thee speedy death like viper brood."

Now when I heard his verse, I was perplexed as to my case and
considering my condition and how I was become a captive, I was
lowered in my own esteem.  Then I looked at the damsel, his
sister, and seeing her beauty I said to myself, "'Tis she who
caused all this trouble"; and I fell a-marvelling at her
loveliness till the tears streamed from my eyes and I recited
these couplets,

"Dear friend!  ah leave thy loud reproach and blame; *
     Such blame but irks me yet may not alarm:
I'm clean distraught for one whom saw I not *
     Without her winning me by winsome charm
Yestreen her brother crossed me in her love, *
     A Brave stout-hearted and right long of arm."

Then the maiden set food before her brother and he bade me eat
with him, whereat I rejoiced and felt assured that I should not
be slain.  And when he had ended eating, she brought him a flagon
of pure wine and he applied him to it till the fumes of the drink
mounted to his head and his face flushed red.  Then he turned to
me and said, "Woe to thee, O Hammad!  dost thou know me or not?"
Replied I, "By thy life, I am rich in naught save ignorance!'
Quoth he, "O Hammad, I am 'Abbád bin Tamím bin Sa'labah and
indeed Allah giveth thee thy liberty and leadeth thee to a happy
bride and spareth thee confusion." Then he drank to my long life
and gave me a cup of wine and I drank it off; and presently he
filled me a second and a third and a fourth, and I drained them
all; while he made merry with me and swore me never to betray
him.  So I sware to him one thousand five hundred oaths that I
would never deal perfidiously with him at any time, but that I
would be a friend and a helper to him.  Thereupon he bade his
sister bring me ten suits of silk, so she brought them and laid
them on my person, and this dress I have on my body is one of
them.  Moreover, he made bring one of the best of his she-
dromedaries[FN#126] carrying stuffs and provaunt, he bade her
also bring a sorrel horse, and when they were brought he gave the
whole of them to me.  I abode with them three days, eating and
drinking, and what he gave me of gifts is with me to this
present.  At the end of the three days he said to me, "O Hammad,
O my brother, I would sleep awhile and take my rest and verily I
trust my life to thee; but, if thou see horsemen making hither,
fear not, for know that they are of the Banu Sa'labah, seeking to
wage war on me." Then he laid his sword under his head-pillow and
slept; and when he was drowned in slumber Iblis tempted me to
slay him; so I arose in haste, and drawing the sword from under
his head, dealt him a blow that made his head fall from his body.
But his sister knew what I had done, and rushing out from within
the tent, threw herself on his corpse, rending her raiment and
repeating these couplets,

"To kith and kin bear thou sad tidings of our plight; *
     From doom th' All-wise decreed shall none of men take
     flight:
Low art thou laid, O brother!  strewn upon the stones, *
     With face that mirrors moon when shining brightest bright!
Good sooth, it is a day accurst, thy slaughter-day *
     Shivering thy spear that won the day in many a fight!
Now thou be slain no rider shall delight in steed, *
     Nor man child shall the breeding woman bring to light.
This morn Hammád uprose and foully murthered thee, *
     Falsing his oath and troth with foulest perjury."

When she had ended her verse she said to me, "O thou of accursed
forefathers, wherefore didst thou play my brother false and slay
him when he purposed returning thee to thy native land with
provisions; and it was his intent also to marry thee to me at the
first of the month?" Then she drew a sword she had with her, and
planting the hilt in the earth, with the point set to her breast,
she bent over it and threw herself thereon till the blade issued
from her back and she fell to the ground, dead.  I mourned for
her and wept and repented when repentance availed me naught.
Then I arose in haste and went to the tent and, taking whatever
was light of load and weighty of worth, went my way; but in my
haste and horror I took no heed of my dead comrades, nor did I
bury the maiden and the youth.  And this my tale is still more
wondrous than the story of the serving-girl I kidnapped from the
Holy City, Jerusalem.  But when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard these words
from the Badawi, the light was changed in her eyes to night.--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Forty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nuzhat
al-Zaman heard these words from the Badawi, the light was changed
in her eyes to night, and she rose and drawing the sword, smote
Hammad the Arab between the shoulder-blades so that the point
issued from the apple of his throat.[FN#127]  And when all
present asked her, 'Why hast thou made haste to slay him;" she
answered, "Praised be Allah who hath granted me in my life tide
to avenge myself with mine own hand!" And she bade the slaves
drag the body out by the feet and cast it to the dogs.  Thereupon
they turned to the two prisoners who remained of the three; and
one of them was a black slave, so they said to him, What is thy
name, fellow?  Tell us the truth of thy case." He replied, "As
for me my name is Al-Ghazbán," and acquainted them what had
passed between himself and Queen Abrizah, daughter of King
Hardub, Lord of Greece, and how he had slain her and fled.
Hardly had the negro made an end of his story, when King Rumzan
struck off his head with his scymitar, saying, Praise to Allah
who gave me life!  I have avenged my mother with my own hand."
Then he repeated to them what his nurse Marjanah had told him of
this same slave whose name was Al-Ghazban; after which they
turned to the third prisoner.  Now this was the very camel-
driver[FN#128] whom the people of the Holy City, Jerusalem, hired
to carry Zau al-Makan and lodge him in the hospital at Damascus
of Syria; but he threw him down on the ashes midden and went his
way.  And they said to him, "Acquaint us with thy case and tell
the truth." So he related to them all that had happened to him
with Sultan Zau al-Makan; how he had been carried from the Holy
City, at the time when he was sick, till they made Damascus and
he had been thrown into the hospital; how also the Jerusalem folk
had paid the cameleer money to transport the stranger to
Damascus, and he had taken it and fled after casting his charge
upon the midden by the side of the ash-heap of the Hammam.  But
when he ended his words, Sultan Kanmakan took his sword
forthright and cut off his head, saying, "Praised be Allah who
hath given me life, that I might requite this traitor what he did
with my father, for I have heard this very story from King Zau
al-Makan himself." Then the Kings said each to other, "It
remaineth only for us to wreak our revenge upon the old woman
Shawahi, yclept Zat al-Dawahi, because she is the prime cause of
all these calamities and cast us into adversity on this wise.
Who will deliver her into our hands that we may avenge ourselves
upon her and wipe out our dishonour?" And King Rumzan said,
"Needs must we bring her hither." So without stay or delay he
wrote a letter to his grandmother, the aforesaid ancient woman,
giving her to know therein that he had subdued the kingdoms of
Damascus and Mosul and Irak, and had broken up the host of the
Moslems and captured their princes, adding, "I desire thee of all
urgency to come to me, bringing with thee Queen Sophia, daughter
of King Afridun, and whom thou wilt of the Nazarene chiefs, but
no armies; for the country is quiet and wholly under our hand."
And when she read the letter and recognised the handwriting of
King Rumzan, she rejoiced with great joy and forthright equipping
herself and Queen Sophia, set out with their attendants and
journeyed, without stopping, till they drew near Baghdad.  Then
she foresent a messenger to acquaint the King of her arrival,
whereupon quoth Rumzan, "We should do well to don the habit of
the Franks and fare forth to meet the old woman, to the intent
that we may be assured against her craft and perfidy." Whereto
Kanmakan replied, "Hearing is consenting." So they clad
themselves in Frankish clothes and, when Kuzia Fakan saw them,
she exclaimed, "By the truth of the Lord of Worship, did I not
know you, I should take you to be indeed Franks!" Then they
sallied forth with a thousand horse, King Rumzan riding on before
them, to meet the old woman.  As soon as his eyes fell on hers,
he dismounted and walked towards her and she, recognizing him,
dismounted also and embraced him, but he pressed her ribs with
his hands, till he well nigh broke them.  Quoth she, "What is
this, O my son?" But before she had done speaking, up came
Kanmakan and Dandan; and the horsemen with them cried out at the
women and slaves and took them all prisoners.  Then the two Kings
returned to Baghdad, with their captives, and Rumzan bade them
decorate the city which they did for three days, at the end of
which they brought out the old woman Shawahi, highs Zat al-
Dawahi, with a peaked red turband of palm-leaves on her head,
diademed with asses' dung and preceded by a herald proclaiming
aloud, "This is the reward of those who presume to lay hands on
Kings and the sons of Kings!" Then they crucified her on one of
the gates of Baghdad; and, when her companions saw what befel
her, all embraced in a body the faith of Al-Islam.  As for
Kanmakan and his uncle Rumzan and his aunt Nuzhat al-Zaman and
the Wazir Dandan, they marvelled at the wonderful events that had
betided them and bade the scribes chronicle them in books that
those who came after might read.  Then they all abode for the
remainder of their days in the enjoyment of every solace and
comfort of life, till there overtook them the Destroyer of all
delights and the Sunderer of all societies.  And this is the
whole that hath come down to us of the dealings of fortune with
King Omar bin al-Nu'uman and his sons Sharrkan and Zau al-Makan
and his son's son Kanmakan and his daughter Nuzhat al-Zaman and
her daughter Kuzia Fakan.  Thereupon quoth Shahryar to Shahrazad,
"I desire that thou tell me somewhat about birds;" and hearing
this Dunyazad said to her sister, "I have never seen the Sultan
light at heart all this while till the present night, and his
pleasure garreth me hope that the issue for thee with him may be
a happy issue." Then drowsiness overcame the Sultan, so he
slept;[FN#129]--And Shahrazad perceived the approach of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Forty-sixth Night,

Shahrazad began to relate, in these words, the tale of



                  THE BIRDS AND BEASTS AND THE
                       CARPENTER[FN#130]



Quoth she, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that in times
of yore and in ages long gone before, a peacock abode with his
wife on the seashore. Now the place was infested with lions and
all manner wild beasts, withal it abounded in trees and streams.
So cock and hen were wont to roost by night upon one of the
trees, being in fear of the beasts, and went forth by day
questing food. And they ceased not thus to do till their fear
increased on them and they searched for some place wherein to
dwell other than their old dwelling place; and in the course of
their search behold, they happened on an island abounding in
streams and trees. So they alighted there and ate of its fruits
and drank of its waters. But whilst they were thus engaged, lo!
up came to them a duck in a state of extreme terror, and stayed
not faring forwards till she reached the tree whereon were
perched the two peafowl, when she seemed re assured in mind. The
peacock doubted not but that she had some rare story; so he asked
her of her case and the cause of her concern, whereto she
answered, "I am sick for sorrow, and my horror of the son of
Adam:[FN#131] so beware, and again I say beware of the sons of
Adam!" Rejoined the peacock, "Fear not now that thou hast won our
protection." Cried the duck, "Alhamdolillah! glory to God, who
hath done away my cark and care by means of you being near! For
indeed I come of friendship fain with you twain." And when she
had ended her speech the peacock's wife came down to her and
said, "Well come and welcome and fair cheer! No harm shall hurt
thee: how can son of Adam come to us and we in this isle which
lieth amiddlemost of the sea? From the land he cannot reach us
neither can he come against us from the water. So be of good
cheer and tell us what hath betided thee from the child of Adam."
Answered the duck, "Know, then, O thou peahen, that of a truth I
have dwelt all my life in this island safely and peacefully, nor
have I seen any disquieting thing, till one night, as I was
asleep, I sighted in my dream the semblance of a son of Adam, who
talked with me and I with him. Then I heard a voice say to me, 'O
thou duck, beware of the son of Adam and be not imposed on by his
words nor by that he may suggest to thee; for he aboundeth in
wiles and guiles; so beware with all wariness of his perfidy, for
again I say, he is crafty and right cunning even as singeth of
him the poet,

     He'll offer sweetmeats with his edgèd tongue, *
         And fox thee with the foxy guile of fox.

And know thou that the son of Adam circumventeth the fishes and
draweth them forth of the seas; and he shooteth the birds with a
pellet of clay[FN#132] and trappeth the elephant with his craft.
None is safe from his mischief and neither bird nor beast
escapeth him; and on this wise have I told thee what I have heard
concerning the son of Adam.' So I awoke, fearful and trembling
and from that hour to this my heart hath not known gladness, for
dread of the son of Adam, lest he surprise me unawares by his
wile or trap me in his snares. By the time the end of the day
overtook me, my strength was grown weak and my spunk failed me;
so, desiring to eat and drink, I went forth walking, troubled in
spirit and with a heart ill at ease. Now when I reached yonder
mountain I saw a tawny lion whelp at the door of a cave, and
sighting me he joyed in me with great joy, for my colour pleased
him and my gracious shape; so he cried out to me saying, 'Draw
nigh unto me.' I went up to him and he asked me, 'What is thy
name, and what is thy nature?' Answered I, 'My name is Duck, and
I am of the bird kind;' and I added, 'But thou, why tarriest thou
in this place till this time?' Answered the whelp, 'My father the
lion hath for many a day warned me against the son of Adam, and
it came to pass this night that I saw in my sleep the semblance
of a son of Adam.' And he went on to tell me the like of that I
have told you. When I heard these words, I said to him, 'O lion,
I take asylum with thee, that thou mayest kill the son of Adam
and be steadfast in resolve to his slaughter; verily I fear him
for myself with extreme fear and to my fright affright is added
for that thou also dreadest the son of Adam, albeit thou art
Sultan of savage beasts.' Then I ceased not, O my sister, to bid
the young lion beware of the son of Adam and urge him to slay
him, till he rose of a sudden and at once from his stead and went
out and he fared on, and I after him and I noted him lashing
flanks with tail. We advanced in the same order till we came to a
place where the roads forked and saw a cloud of dust arise which,
presently clearing away, discovered below it a runaway naked ass,
now galloping and running at speed and now rolling in the dust.
When the lion saw the ass, he cried out to him, and he came up to
him in all humility. Then said the lion, 'Harkye, crack brain
brute! What is thy kind and what be the cause of thy coming
hither?' He replied, 'O son of the Sultan! I am by kind an ass--
Asinus Caballus--and the cause of my coming to this place is that
I am fleeing from the son of Adam.' Asked the lion whelp, 'Dost
thou fear then that he will kill thee?' Answered the ass, 'Not
so, O son of the Sultan, but I dread lest he put a cheat on me
and mount upon me; for he hath a thing called Pack saddle, which
he setteth on my back; also a thing called Girths which he
bindeth about my belly; and a thing called Crupper which he
putteth under my tail, and a thing called Bit which he placeth in
my mouth: and he fashioneth me a goad[FN#133] and goadeth me with
it and maketh me run more than my strength. If I stumble he
curseth me, and if I bray, he revileth me;[FN#134] and at last
when I grow old and can no longer run, he putteth on me a
panel[FN#135] of wood and delivereth me to the water carriers,
who load my back with water from the river in skins and other
vessels, such as jars, and I cease not to wone in misery and
abasement and fatigue till I die, when they cast me on the
rubbish-heaps to the dogs. So what grief can surpass this grief
and what calamities can be greater than these calamities?' Now
when I heard, O peahen, the ass's words, my skin shuddered, and
became as gooseflesh at the son of Adam; and I said to the lion
whelp, 'O my lord, the ass of a verity hath excuse and his words
add terror to my terror.' Then quoth the young lion to the ass,
'Whither goest thou?' Quoth he, 'Before sunrise I espied the son
of Adam afar off, and fled from him; and now I am minded to flee
forth and run without ceasing for the greatness of my fear of
him, so haply I may find me a place of shelter from the
perfidious son of Adam.' Whilst the ass was thus discoursing with
the lion whelp, seeking the while to take leave of us and go
away, behold, appeared to us another cloud of dust, whereat the
ass brayed and cried out and looked hard and let fly a loud
fart[FN#136]. After a while the dust lifted and discovered a
black steed finely dight with a blaze on the forehead like a
dirham round and bright;[FN#137] handsomely marked about the hoof
with white and with firm strong legs pleasing to sight and he
neighed with affright. This horse ceased not running till he
stood before the whelp, the son of the lion who, when he saw him,
marvelled and made much of him and said, 'What is thy kind, O
majestic wild beast and wherefore freest thou into this desert
wide and vast?' He replied, O lord of wild beasts, I am a steed
of the horse kind, and the cause of my running is that I am
fleeing from the son of Adam.' The lion whelp wondered at the
horse's speech and cried to him ‘Speak not such words for it is
shame to thee, seeing that thou art tall and stout. And how
cometh it that thou fearest the son of Adam, thou, with thy bulk
of body and thy swiftness of running when I, for all my
littleness of stature am resolved to encounter the son of Adam
and, rushing on him, eat his flesh, that I may allay the affright
of this poor duck and make her dwell in peace in her own place?
But now thou hast come here and thou hast wrung my heart with thy
talk and turned me back from what I had resolved to do, seeing
that, for all thy bulk, the son of Adam hath mastered thee and
hath feared neither thy height nor thy breadth, albeit, wert thou
to kick him with one hoof thou wouldst kill him, nor could he
prevail against thee, but thou wouldst make him drink the cup of
death.' The horse laughed when he heard the whelps words and
replied, 'Far, far is it from my power to overcome him, O Prince.
Let not my length and my breadth nor yet my bulk delude thee with
respect to the son of Adam; for that he, of the excess of his
guile and his wiles, fashioneth me a thing called Hobble and
applieth to my four legs a pair of ropes made of palm fibres
bound with felt, and gibbeteth me by the head to a high peg, so
that I being tied up remain standing and can neither sit nor lie
down. And when he is minded to ride me, he bindeth on his feet a
thing of iron called Stirrup[FN#138] and layeth on my back
another thing called Saddle, which he fasteneth by two Girths
passed under my armpits. Then he setteth in my mouth a thing of
iron he calleth Bit, to which he tieth a thing of leather called
Rein; and, when he sitteth in the saddle on my back, he taketh
the rein in his hand and guideth me with it, goading my flanks
the while with the shovel stirrups till he maketh them bleed. So
do not ask, O son of our Sultan, the hardships I endure from the
son of Adam. And when I grow old and lean and can no longer run
swiftly, he selleth me to the miller who maketh me turn in the
mill, and I cease not from turning night and day till I grow
decrepit. Then he in turn vendeth me to the knacker who cutteth
my throat and flayeth off my hide and plucketh out my tail, which
he selleth to the sieve maker; and he melteth down my fat for
tallow candles.' When the young lion heard the horse's words, his
rage and vexation redoubled and he said, 'When didst thou leave
the son of Adam? Replied the horse, 'At midday and he is upon my
track.' Whilst the whelp was thus conversing with the horse lo!
there rose a cloud of dust and, presently opening out, discovered
below it a furious camel gurgling and pawing the earth with his
feet and never ceasing so to do till he came up with us. Now when
the lion whelp saw how big and buxom he was, he took him to be
the son of Adam and was about to spring upon him when I said to
him, 'O Prince, of a truth this is not the son of Adam, this be a
camel, and he seemeth to fleeing from the son of Adam.' As I was
thus conversing, O my sister, with the lion whelp, the camel came
up and saluted him; whereupon he returned the greeting and said,
'What bringeth thee hither?' Replied he, 'I came here fleeing
from the son of Adam.' Quoth the whelp, 'And thou, with thy huge
frame and length and breadth, how cometh it that thou fearest the
son of Adam, seeing that with one kick of thy foot thou wouldst
kill him?' Quoth the camel, 'O son of the Sultan, know that the
son of Adam hath subtleties and wiles, which none can withstand
nor can any prevail against him, save only Death; for he putteth
into my nostrils a twine of goat's hair he calleth Nose-
ring,[FN#139] and over my head a thing he calleth Halter; then he
delivereth me to the least of his little children, and the
youngling draweth me along by the nose ring, my size and strength
notwithstanding. Then they load me with the heaviest of burdens
and go long journeys with me and put me to hard labour through
the hours of the night and the day. When I grow old and stricken
in years and disabled from working, my master keepeth me not with
him, but selleth me to the knacker who cutteth my throat and
vendeth my hide to the tanners and my flesh to the cooks: so do
not ask the hardships I suffer from the son of Adam.' 'When didst
thou leave the son of Adam?' asked the young lion; and he
answered, 'At sundown, and I suppose that coming to my place
after my departure and not finding me there, he is now in search
of me: wherefore let me go, O son of the Sultan, that I may flee
into the wolds and the wilds.' Said the whelp, 'Wait awhile, O
camel, till thou see how I will tear him, and give thee to eat of
his flesh, whilst I craunch his bones and drink his blood.'
Replied the camel, 'O King's son, I fear for thee from the child
of Adam, for he is wily and guilefull.' And he began repeating
these verses:--

    'When the tyrant enters the lieges' land, *
          Naught remains for the lieges but quick remove!'

Now whilst the camel was speaking with the lion whelp, behold,
there rose a cloud of dust which, after a time, opened and showed
an old man scanty of stature and lean of limb; and he bore on his
shoulder a basket of carpenter's tools and on his head a branch
of a tree and eight planks. He led little children by the hand
and came on at a trotting pace,[FN#140] never stopping till he
drew near the whelp. When I saw him, O my sister, I fell down for
excess of fear; but the young lion rose and walked forward to
meet the carpenter and when he came up to him, the man smiled in
his face and said to him, with a glib tongue and in courtly
terms, 'O King who defendeth from harm and lord of the long arm,
Allah prosper thine evening and thine endeavouring and increase
thy valiancy and strengthen thee! Protect me from that which hath
distressed me and with its mischief hath oppressed me, for I have
found no helper save only thyself.' And the carpenter stood in
his presence weeping and wailing and complaining. When the whelp
heard his sighing and his crying he said, 'I will succour thee
from that thou fearest. Who hath done thee wrong and what art
thou, O wild beast, whose like in my life I never saw, nor ever
espied one goodlier of form or more eloquent of tongue than thou?
What is thy case?' Replied the man, 'O lord of wild beasts, as to
myself I am a carpenter; but as to who hath wronged me, verily he
is a son of Adam, and by break of dawn after this coming
night[FN#141] he will be with thee in this place.' When the lion
whelp heard these words of the carpenter, the light was changed
to night before his sight and he snorted and roared with ire and
his eyes cast forth sparks of fire. Then he cried out saying, 'By
Allah, I will assuredly watch through this coming night till
dawn, nor will I return to my father till I have won my will.'
Then he turned to the carpenter and asked, 'Of a truth I see thou
art short of step and I would not hurt thy feelings for that I am
generous of heart; yet do I deem thee unable to keep pace with
the wild beasts: tell me then whither thou goest?' Answered the
carpenter, 'Know that I am on my way to thy father's Wazir, the
lynx; for when he heard that the son of Adam had set foot in this
country he feared greatly for himself and sent one of the wild
beasts on a message for me, to make him a house wherein he should
dwell, that it might shelter him and fend off his enemy from him,
so not one of the sons of Adam should come at him. Accordingly I
took up these planks and set forth to find him.' Now when the
young lion heard these words he envied the lynx and said to the
carpenter, 'By my life there is no help for it but thou make me a
house with these planks ere thou make one for Sir Lynx! When thou
hast done my work, go to him and make him whatso he wisheth.' The
carpenter replied, 'O lord of wild beasts, I cannot make thee
aught till I have made the lynx what he desireth: then will I
return to thy service and build thee a house as a fort to ward
thee from thy foe.' Exclaimed the lion whelp, ‘By Allah, 'I will
not let thee leave this place till thou build me a house of
planks.' So saying he made for the carpenter and sprang upon him,
thinking to jest with him, and cuffed him with his paw knocking
the basket off his shoulder; and threw him down in a fainting
fit, whereupon the young lion laughed at him and said, 'Woe to
thee, O carpenter, of a truth thou art feeble and hast no force;
so it is excusable in thee to fear the son of Adam.' Now when the
carpenter fell on his back, he waxed exceeding wroth; but he
dissembled his wrath for fear of the whelp and sat up and smiled
in his face, saying, 'Well, I will make for thee the house.' With
this he took the planks he had brought and nailed together the
house, which he made in the form of a chest after the measure of
the young lion. And he left the door open, for he had cut in the
box a large aperture, to which he made a stout cover and bored
many holes therein. Then he took out some newly wrought nails and
a hammer and said to the young lion, 'Enter the house through
this opening, that I may fit it to thy measure.' Thereat the
whelp rejoiced and went up to the opening, but saw that it was
strait; and the carpenter said to him, 'Enter and crouch down on
thy legs and arms!' So the whelp did thus and entered the chest,
but his tail remained outside. Then he would have drawn back and
come . out; but the carpenter said to him, 'Wait patiently a
while till I see if there be room for thy tail with thee.' The
young lion did as he was bid when the carpenter twisted up his
tail and, stuffing it into the chest, whipped the lid on to the
opening and nailed it down; whereat the whelp cried out and said,
'O carpenter, what is this narrow house thou hast made me? Let me
out, sirrah!' But the carpenter answered, 'Far be it, far be it
from thy thought! Repentance for past avails naught, and indeed
of this place thou shalt not come out.' He then laughed and
resumed, 'Verily thou art fallen into the trap and from thy
duress there is no escape, O vilest of wild beasts!' Rejoined the
whelp, 'O my brother, what manner of words are these thou
addresses" to me?' The carpenter replied 'know, O dog of the
desert! that thou hast fa]len into that which thou fearedst: Fate
hath upset thee, nor shall caution set thee up. ' When the whelp
heard these words, O my sister, he knew that this was indeed the
very son of Adam, against whom he had been warned by his sire in
waking state and by the mysterious Voice in sleeping while; and I
also was certified that this was indeed he without doubt;
wherefore great fear of him for myself seized me and I withdrew a
little apart from him and waited to see what he would do with the
young lion. Then I saw, O my sister, the son of Adam dig a pit in
that place hard by the chest which held the whelp and, throwing
the box into the hole, heap dry wood upon it and burn the young
lion with fire. At this sight, O sister mine, my fear of the son
of Adam redoubled and in my affright I have been these two days
fleeing from him." But when the peahen heard from the duck this
story,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Forty-seventh Night,

 She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
peahen heard from the duck this story, she wondered with
exceeding wonder and said to her, "O my sister, here thou art
safe from the son of Adam, for we are in one of the islands of
the sea whither there is no way for the son of Adam; so do thou
take up thine abode with us till Allah make easy thy case and our
case. Quoth the duck, "I fear lest some calamity come upon me by
night, for no runaway can rid him of fate by flight." Rejoined
the peahen, "Abide with us, and be like unto, us;" and ceased not
to persuade her, till she yielded, saying, "O my sister, thou
knowest how weak is my resistance; but verily had I not seen thee
here, I had not remained." Said the peahen, "That which is on our
foreheads[FN#142] we must indeed fulfil, and when our doomed day
draweth near, who shall deliver us? But not a soul departeth
except it have accomplished its predestined livelihood and term.
Now the while they talked thus, a cloud of dust appeared and
approached them, at sight of which the duck shrieked aloud and
ran down into the sea, crying out, "Beware! beware! though flight
there is not from Fate and Lot!"[FN#143] After awhile the dust
opened out and discovered under it an antelope; whereat the duck
and the peahen were reassured and the peacock's wife said to her
companion, "O my sister, this thou seest and wouldst have me
beware of is an antelope, and here he is, making for us. He will
do us no hurt, for the antelope feedeth upon the herbs of the
earth and, even as thou art of the bird kind, so is he of the
beast kind. Be there fore of good cheer and cease care taking;
for care taking wasteth the body." Hardly had the peahen done
speaking, when the antelope came up to them, thinking to shelter
him under the shade of the tree; and, sighting the peahen and the
duck, saluted them and said, 'I came to this island to-day and I
have seen none richer in herbage nor pleasanter for habitation."
Then he besought them for company and amity and, when they saw
his friendly behaviour to them, they welcomed him and gladly
accepted his offer. So they struck up a sincere friendship and
sware thereto; and they slept in one place and they ate and drank
together; nor did they cease dwelling in safety, eating and
drinking their fill, till one day there came thither a ship which
had strayed from her course in the sea. She cast anchor near them
and the crew came forth and dispersed about the island. They soon
caught sight of the three friends, antelope, peahen and duck, and
made for them; whereupon the peahen flew up into the tree and
thence winged her way through air; and the antelope fled into the
desert, but the duck abode paralyzed by fear. So they chased her
till they caught her and she cried out and said, "Caution availed
me naught against Fate and Lot!'; and they bore her off to the
ship. Now when the peahen saw what had betided the duck, she
removed from the island, saying, "I see that misfortunes lie in
ambush for all. But for yonder ship, parting had not befallen
between me and this duck, because she was one of the truest of
friends." Then she flew off and rejoined the antelope, who
saluted her and gave her joy of her safety and asked for the
duck, to which she replied, "The enemy hath taken her, and I
loathe the sojourn of this island after her." Then she wept for
the loss of the duck and began repeating,

     "The day of parting cut my heart in twain:*
          In twain may Allah cut the parting-day!

And she spake also this couplet,

     "I pray some day that we reunion gain, *
         So may I tell him Parting's ugly way."

The antelope sorrowed with great sorrow, but dissuaded the peahen
from her resolve to remove from the island. So they abode there
together with him, eating and drinking, in peace and safety,
except that they ceased not to mourn for the loss of the duck;
and the antelope said to the peahen, "O my sister, thou seest how
the folk who came forth of the ship were the cause of our
severance from the duck and of her destruction; so do thou beware
of them and guard thyself from them and from the wile of the son
of Adam and his guile." But the peahen replied, I am assured that
nought caused her death save her neglecting to say Subhan' Allah,
glory to God; indeed I often said to her, 'Exclaim thou, 'Praised
be Allah, and verily I fear for thee, because thou neglectest to
laud the Almighty; for all things created by Allah glorify Him on
this wise, and whoso neglecteth the formula of praise[FN#144] him
destruction waylays.'" When the antelope heard the peahen's words
he exclaimed, "Allah make fair thy face!" and betook himself to
repeating the formula of praise, and ceased not there from a
single hour. And it is said that his form of adoration was as
follows, "Praise be to the Requiter of every good and evil thing,
the Lord of Majesty and of Kings the King!" And a tale is also
told on this wise of



                          The Hermits.



A certain hermit worshipped on a certain mountain, whither
resorted a pair of pigeons; and the worshipper was wont to make
two parts of his daily bread,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Forty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
worshipper was wont to make two parts of his daily bread, eating
one half himself and giving the other to the pigeon pair. He also
prayed for them both that they might be blest with issue so they
increased and multiplied greatly. Now they resorted only to that
mountain where the hermit was, and the reason of their fore-
gathering with the holy man was their assiduity in repeating
"Praised be Allah!" for it is recounted that the pigeon[FN#145]
in praise, "Praised be the Creator of all Creatures, the
Distributor of daily bread, the Builder of the heavens and
Dispreader of the earths!" And that couple ceased not to dwell
together in the happiest of life, they and their brood till the
holy man died, when the company of the pigeons was broken up and
they dispersed among the towns and villages and mountains. Now it
is told that on a certain other mountain there dwelt a shepherd,
a man of piety and good sense and chastity; and he had flocks of
sheep which he tended, and he made his living by their milk and
wool. The mountain which gave him a home abounded in trees and
pasturage and also in wild beasts, but these had no power over
his flocks; so he ceased not to dwell upon that highland in full
security, taking no thought to the things of the world, by reason
of his beatitude and his assiduity in prayer and devotion, till
Allah ordained that he should fall sick with exceeding sickness.
Thereupon he betook himself to a cavern in the mountain and his
sheep used to go out in the morning to the pasturage and take
refuge at night in the cave. But Allah Almighty, being minded to
try him and prove his patience and his obedience, sent him one of
His angels, who came in to him in the semblance of a fair woman
and sat down before him. When the shepherd saw that woman seated
before him, his flesh shuddered at her with horripilation[FN#146]
and he said to her, 'O thou woman, what was it invited thee to
this my retreat? I have no need of thee, nor is there aught
betwixt me and thee which calleth for thy coming in to me." Quoth
she, "O man, cost thou not behold my beauty and loveliness and
the fragrance of my breath; and knowest thou not the need women
have of men and men of women? So who shall forbid thee from me
when I have chosen to be near thee and desire to enjoy thy
company? Indeed, I come to thee willingly and do not withhold
myself from thee, and near us there is none whom we need fear;
and I wish to abide with thee as long as thou sojournest in this
mountain, and be thy companion and thy true friend. I offer
myself to thee, for thou needest the service of woman: and if
thou have carnal connection with me and know me, thy sickness
shall be turned from thee and health return to thee; and thou
wilt repent thee of the past for having foresworn the company of
women during the days that are now no more. In very sooth, I give
thee good advice: so incline to my counsel and approach me."
Quoth the shepherd, "Go out from me, O woman deceitful and
perfidious! I will not incline to thee nor approach thee. I want
not thy company nor wish for union with thee; he who coveteth the
coming life renounceth thee, for thou seducest mankind, those of
past time and those of present time. Allah the Most High lieth in
wait for His servants and woe unto him who is cursed with thy
company!" Answered she, "O thou that errest from the truth and
wanderest from the way of reason, turn thy face to me and look
upon my charms and take thy full of my nearness, as did the wise
who have gone before thee. Indeed, they were richer than thou in
experience and sharper of wit; withal they rejected not, as thou
rejectest, the enjoyment of women; nay, they took their pleasure
of them and their company even as thou renouncest them, and it
did them no hurt in things temporal or things spiritual.
Wherefore do thou recede from thy resolve and thou shalt praise
the issue of thy case." Rejoined the shepherd, "All thou sayest I
deny and abhor, and all thou offerest I reject: for thou art
cunning and perfidious and there is no honesty in thee nor is
there honour. How much of foulness hidest thou under thy beauty,
and how many a pious man hast thou seduced from his duty and made
his end penitence and perdition? Avaunt from me, O thou who
devotest thyself to corrupt others!" Thereupon, he threw his
goat's hair cloak over his head that he might not see her face,
and betook himself to calling upon the name of his Lord. And when
the angel saw the excellence of his submission to the Divine
Will, he went out from him and ascended to heaven. Now hard by
the hermit's hill was a village wherein dwelt a pious man, who
knew not the other's station, till one night he heard in a dream
a Voice saying to him, "In such a place near to thee is a devout
man: go thou to him and be at his command!" So when morning
dawned he set out to wend thither, and what time the heat was
grievous upon him, he came to a tree which grew beside a spring
of running water. So he sat down to rest in the shadow of that
tree and  behold, he saw beasts and birds coming to that fount to
drink, but when they caught sight of the devotee sitting there,
they took fright and fled from before his face. Then said he,
"There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! I rest
not here but to the hurt of these beasts and fowls." So he arose,
blaming him self and saying, "Verily my tarrying here this day
hath wronged these animals, and what excuse have I towards my
Creator and the Creator of these birds and beasts for that I was
the cause of their flight from their drink and their daily food
and their place of pasturage? Alas for my shame before my Lord on
the day when He shall avenge the hornless sheep on the sheep with
horns!''[FN#147] And he wept and began repeating these couplets,

"Now an, by Allah, unto man were fully known *
     Why he is made, in careless sleep he ne'er would wone:
First Death, then cometh Wake and dreadful Day of Doom, *
     Reproof with threats sore terror, frightful malison.
Bid we or else forbid we, all of us are like *
     The Cave companions[FN#148] when at length their sleep was
     done."

Then he again wept for that he had driven the birds and beasts
from the spring by sitting down under the tree, and he fared on
till he came to the shepherd's dwelling and going in, saluted
him. The shepherd returned his salutation and embraced him,
weeping and saying, "What hath brought thee to this place where
no man hath ever yet come to me." Quoth the other devotee, "I saw
in my sleep one who described to me this thy stead and bade me
repair to thee and salute thee: so I came, in obedience to the
commandment." The shepherd welcomed him, rejoicing in his company
and the twain abode upon that mountain, worshipping Allah with
the best of worship; and they ceased not serving their Lord in
the cavern and living upon the flesh and milk of their sheep,
having clean put away from them riches and children and what not,
till the Certain, the Inevitable became their lot. And this is
the end of their story. Then said King Shahyrar, "O Shahrazad,
thou wouldst cause me to renounce my kingdom and thou makest me
repent of having slain so many women and maidens. Hast thou any
bird stories?" "Yes," replied she, and began to tell the



            TALE OF THE WATER FOWL AND THE TORTOISE.



It is related by truthful men, O King, that a certain bird flew
high up firmament wards and presently lit on a rock in the midst
of water which was running. And as he sat there, behold, the
current carried to him the carcass of a man, and lodged it
against the rock, for being swollen it floated. The bird, which
was a water fowl, drew near and examining it, found that it was
the dead body of a son of Adam and saw in it sign of spear and
stroke of sword. So he said to himself, "I presume that this man
who hath been slain was some evil doer, and that a company banded
themselves together against him and put him to death and were at
peace from him and his evil doing." And as he continued
marvelling at this, suddenly the vultures and kites came down
upon the carcass from all sides and get round it; which when the
water fowl saw, he feared with sore affright and said, "I cannot
abide here any longer." So he flew away in quest of a place where
he might wone, till that carcass should come to an end and the
birds of prey leave it; and he stayed not in his flight, till he
found a river with a tree in its midst. So he alighted on the
tree, troubled and distraught and sore grieved for departing from
his birth place, and said to himself, "Verily sorrows cease not
to follow me: I was at my ease when I saw that carcass, and
rejoiced therein with much joy, saying, 'This is a gift of daily
bread which Allah hath dealt to me:' but my joy became annoy and
my gladness turned to sadness, for the ravenous birds, which are
like lions, seized upon it and tare it to pieces and came between
me and my prize So how can I hope to be secure from misfortune in
this world, or put any trust therein? Indeed, the proverb
saith,'The world is the dwelling of him who hath no dwelling': he
who hath no wits is cozened by it and entrusteth it with his
wealth and his child and his family and his folk; and whoso is
cozened ceaseth not to rely upon it, pacing proudly upon earth
until he is laid under earth and the dust is cast over his corpse
by him who of all men was dearest to him and nearest. But naught
is better for generous youth than patience under its cares and
miseries. I have left my native place and it is abhorrent to me
to quit my brethren and friends and loved ones." Now whilst he
was thus musing lo! a male tortoise descended into the river and,
approaching the water fowl, saluted him, saying, "O my lord, what
hath exiled thee and driven thee so far from thy place?" Replied
the water fowl, "The descent of enemies thereon; for the wise
brooketh not the neighbourhood of his foe; and how well saith the
poet,

Whenas on any land the oppressor doth alight, *
     There's nothing left for those, that dwell therein, but
     flight.'''[FN#149]

Quoth the tortoise, "If the matter be as thou sayest and the case
as thou describest, I will not leave thee nor cease to stand
before thee, that I may do thy need and fulfil thy service; for
it is said that there is no sorer desolation than that of him who
is an exile, cut off from friends and home; and it is also said
that no calamity equalleth that of severance from the good; but
the best solace for men of understanding is to seek companionship
in strangerhood and be patient under sorrows and adversity.
Wherefore I hope that thou wilt approve of my company, for I will
be to thee a servant and a helper." Now when the water fowl heard
the tortoise's words he answered, "Verily, thou art right in what
thou sayest for, by my life, I have found grief and pain in
separation, what while I have been parted from my place and
sundered from my brethren and friends; seeing that in severance
is an admonition to him who will be admonished and matter of
thought for him who will take thought. If the generous youth find
not a companion to console him, weal is forever cut off from him
and ill is eternally established with him; and there is nothing
for the sage but to solace himself in every event with brethren
and be constant in patience and endurance: indeed these two are
praiseworthy qualities, and both uphold one under calamities and
vicissitudes of the world and ward off startling sorrows and
harrowing cares, come what will." Rejoined the tortoise, "Beware
of sorrow, for it will spoil thy life and waste thy manliness."
And the two gave not over conversing till the bird said, "Never
shall I cease fearing the shifts of time and vicissitudes of
events." When the tortoise heard this, he came up to him and,
kissing him between the eyes, said to him, "Never may the company
of the birds cease to be blest in thee and through thee, and find
wisdom in thy good counsel! How shalt thou be burdened with care
and harm?" And he went on to comfort the water fowl and soothe
his terrors till he became reassured. Then he flew to the place
where the carcass was and found on arriving there the birds of
prey gone, and they had left nothing of the body but bones;
whereupon he returned to the tortoise and acquainted him with the
fact that the foe had disappeared from his place, saying, "Know
that of a truth I long for return homewards to enjoy the society
of my friends; for the sage cannot endure separation from his
native place." So they both went thither and found naught to
affright them; whereupon the water fowl began repeating,

"And haply whenas strait descends on lot of generous youth *
     Right sore, with Allah only lies his issue from annoy:
He's straitened, but full oft when rings and meshes straitest
     clip, * He 'scapes his strait and joyance finds, albe I see
     no joy."

So the twain abode in that island; and while the water fowl was
enjoying a life of peace and gladness, suddenly Fate led thither
a hungry falcon, which drove its talons into the bird's belly and
killed him, nor did caution avail him when his term of life was
ended. Now the cause of his death was that he neglected to use
the formula of praise, and it is said that his form of adoration
was as follows, "Praised be our Lord in that He ordereth and
ordaineth; and praised be our Lord in that He enricheth and
impoverisheth!" Such was the waterfowl's end and the tale of the
ravenous birds. And when it was finished quoth the Sultan, "O
Shahrazad, verily thou overwhelmest me with admonitions and
salutary instances. Hast thou any stories of beasts?" "Yes,"
answered she, and began to tell the



             TALE OF THE WOLF AND THE FOX.[FN#150]



Know, O King, that a fox and a wolf once cohabited in the same
den, harbouring therein together by day and resorting thither by
night; but the wolf was cruel and oppressive to the fox. They
abode thus awhile, till it so befel that the fox exhorted the
wolf to use gentle dealing and leave off his ill deeds, saying,
"If thou persist in thine arrogance, belike Allah will give the
son of Adam power over thee, for he is past master in guile and
wile; and by his artifice he bringeth down the birds from the
firmament and he haleth the mighty fish forth of the
flood-waters: and he cutteth the mountain and transporteth it
from place to place. All this is of his craft and wiliness:
wherefore do thou betake thyself to equity and fair dealing and
leave frowardness and tyranny; and thou shalt fare all the better
for it." But the wolf would not accept his counsel and answered
him roughly, saying, "What right hast thou to speak of matters of
weight and importance?" And he dealt the fox a cuff that laid him
senseless; but, when he revived, he smiled in the wolf's face
and, excusing himself for his unseemly speech, repeated these two
couplets,

"If any sin I sinned, or did I aught *
     In love of you, which hateful mischief wrought;
My sin I sore repent and pardon sue; *
     So give the sinner gift of pardon sought."

The wolf accepted his excuse and held his hand from further
ill-treatment, saying, "Speak not of whatso concerneth thee not,
lest thou hear what will please thee not." Answered the fox, "To
hear is to obey!"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Forty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the
wolf to the fox, "Speak not of whatso concerneth thee not, lest
thou hear what will please thee not!" Answered the fox, "To hear
is to obey! I will abstain henceforth from what pleaseth thee
not; for the sage saith, 'Have a care that thou speak not of that
whereof thou art not asked; leave that which concerneth thee not
for that which concerneth thee, and by no means lavish good
counsel on the wrongous, for they will repay it to thee with
wrong.'" And reflecting on the words of the wolf he smiled in his
face, but in his heart he meditated treachery against him and
privily said, "There is no help but that I compass the
destruction of this wolf." So he bore with his injurious usage,
saying to himself, "Verily insolence and evil-speaking are causes
of perdition and cast into confusion, and it is said, 'The
insolent is shent and the ignorant doth repent; and whose
feareth, to him safety is sent': moderation marketh the noble and
gentle manners are of gains the grandest. It behoveth me to
dissemble with this tyrant and needs must he be cast down." Then
quoth he to the wolf, "Verily, the Lord pardoneth his erring
servant and relenteth towards him, if he confess his offences;
and I am a weak slave and have offended in presuming to counsel
thee. If thou knewest the pain that befel me by thy buffet, thou
wouldst ken that even the elephant could not stand against it nor
endure it: but I complain not of this blow's hurt, because of the
joy and gladness that hath betided me through it; for though it
was to me exceeding sore yet was its issue of the happiest. And
with sooth saith the sage, 'The blow of the teacher is at first
right hurtful, but the end of it is sweeter than strained
honey.'" Quoth the wolf, "I pardon thine offence and I cancel thy
fault; but beware of my force and avow thyself my thrall; for
thou hast learned my severity unto him who showeth his
hostility!" Thereupon the fox prostrated himself before the wolf,
saying, "Allah lengthen thy life and mayst thou never cease to
overthrow thy foes!" And he stinted not to fear the wolf and to
wheedle him and dissemble with him. Now it came to pass that one
day, the fox went to a vineyard and saw a breach in its walls;
but he mistrusted it and said to himself, "Verily, for this
breach there must be some cause and the old saw saith, 'Whoso
seeth a cleft in the earth and shunneth it not and is not wary in
approaching it, the same is self-deluded and exposeth himself to
danger and destruction.' Indeed, it is well known that some folk
make the figure of a fox in their vineyards; nay, they even set
before the semblance grapes in plates, that foxes may see it and
come to it and fall into perdition. In very sooth I regard this
breach as a snare and the proverb saith, 'Caution is one half of
cleverness.' Now prudence requireth that I examine this breach
and see if there be aught therein which may lead to perdition;
and coveting shall not make me cast myself into destruction." So
he went up to the hole and walked round it right warily, and lo!
it was a deep pit, which the owner of the vineyard had dug to
trap therein the wild beasts which laid waste his vines. Then he
said to himself, "Thou hast gained, for that thou hast
refrained!"; and he looked and saw that the hole was lightly
covered with dust and matting. So he drew back from it saying,
"Praised be Allah that I was wary of it! I hope that my enemy,
the wolf, who maketh my life miserable, will fall into it; so
will the vineyard be left to me and I shall enjoy it alone and
dwell therein at peace." Saying thus, he shook his head and
laughed a loud laugh and began versifying,

     "Would Heaven I saw at this hour *
          The Wolf fallen down in this well,
     He who anguisht my heart for so long, *
          And garred me drain eisel and fel!
     Heaven grant after this I may live *
          Free of Wolf for long fortunate spell
     When I've rid grapes and vineyard of him, *
          And in bunch-spoiling happily dwell."

His verse being finished he returned in haste to the wolf and
said to him, "Allah hath made plain for thee the way into the
vineyard without toil and moil. This is of thine auspicious
fortune; so good luck to thee and mayest thou enjoy the plentiful
plunder and the profuse provaunt which Allah hath opened up to
thee without trouble!" Asked the wolf, "What proof hast thou of
what thou assertest?": and the fox answered, "I went up to the
vineyard and found that the owner was dead, having been torn to
pieces by wolves: so I entered the orchard and saw the fruit
shining upon the trees." The wolf doubted not the fox's report
and his gluttony gat hold of him; so he arose and repaired to the
cleft, for that greed blinded him; whilst the fox falling behind
him lay as one dead, quoting to the case the following couplet,

"For Layla's[FN#151] favour dost thou greed? But, bear in mind *
     Greed is a yoke of harmful weight on neck of man."

And when the wolf had reached the breach the fox said, "Enter the
vineyard: thou art spared the trouble of climbing a ladder, for
the garden-wall is broken down, and with Allah it resteth to
fulfil the benefit." So the wolf went on walking and thought to
enter the vineyard; but when he came to the middle of the
pit-covering he fell through; whereupon the fox shook for joy and
gladness; his care and concern left him and he sang out for
delight and improvised these couplets,

     "Fortune had mercy on the soul of me, *
          And for my torments now shows clemency,
     Granting whatever gift my heart desired, *
          And far removing what I feared to see:
     I will, good sooth, excuse her all her sins *
          She sinned in days gone by and much sinned she:
     Yea, her injustice she hath shown in this, *
          She whitened locks that were so black of blee:
     But now for this same wolf escape there's none, *
          Of death and doom he hath full certainty.
     Then all the vineyard comes beneath my rule, *
          I'll brook no partner who's so fond a fool."

Then the fox looked into the cleft and, seeing the wolf weeping
in repentance and sorrow for himself, wept with him; whereupon
the wolf raised his head to him and asked, "Is it of pity for me
thou weepest, O Father of the Fortlet[FN#152]?" Answered the fox,
"No, by Him who cast thee into this pit! I weep for the length of
thy past life and for regret that thou didst not fall into the
pit before this day; for hadst thou done so before I foregathered
with thee, I had rested and enjoyed repose: but thou wast spared
till the fulfilment of thine allotted term and thy destined
time." Then the wolf said to him as one jesting, "O evil-doer, go
to my mother and tell her what hath befallen me; haply she may
devise some device for my release." Replied the fox, "Of a truth
thou hast been brought to destruction by the excess of thy greed
and thine exceeding gluttony, since thou art fallen into a pit
whence thou wilt never escape. Knowest thou not the common
proverb, O thou witless wolf, 'Whoso taketh no thought as to how
things end, him shall Fate never befriend nor shall he safe from
perils wend." "O Reynard," quoth the wolf, "thou was wont to show
me fondness and covet my friendliness and fear the greatness of
my strength. Hate me not rancorously because of that I did with
thee; for he who hath power and forgiveth, his reward Allah
giveth; even as saith the poet,

     'Sow kindness-seed in the unfittest stead; *
          'Twill not be wasted whereso thou shalt sow:
     For kindness albe buried long, yet none *
          Shall reap the crop save sower who garred it grow.'"

Rejoined the fox, "O witlessest of beasts of prey and stupidest
of the wild brutes which the wolds overstray! Hast thou forgotten
thine arrogance and insolence and tyranny, and thy disregarding
the due of goodfellowship and thy refusing to be advised by what
the poet saith?

     'Wrong not thy neighbour e'en if thou have power; *
          The wronger alway vengeance-harvest reaps:
     Thine eyes shall sleep, while bides the wronged on wake *
          A-cursing thee; and Allah's eye ne'er sleeps.'"

"O Abu 'l-Hosayn," replied the wolf, "twit me not with my past
sins; for forgiveness is expected of the generous and doing kind
deeds is the truest of treasures. How well saith the poet,

     'Haste to do kindness while thou hast much power, *
          For at all seasons thou hast not such power.'"

And he ceased not to humble himself before the fox and say,
"Haply, thou canst do somewhat to deliver me from destruction."
Replied the fox, "O thou wolf, thou witless, deluded, deceitful
trickster! hope not for deliverance, for this is but the just
reward of thy foul dealing and its due retaliation." Then he
laughed with chops wide open and repeated these two couplets,

     "No longer beguile me, *
          Thou'lt fail of thy will!
     What can't be thou seekest; *
          Thou hast sown so reap Ill!"

Quoth the wolf, "O gentlest of ravenous beasts, I fain hold thee
too faithful to leave me in this pit." Then he wept and
complained and, with tears streaming from his eyes, recited these
two couplets,

     "O thou whose favours have been out of compt, *
          Whose gifts are more than may be numbered!
     Never mischance befel me yet from time *
          But that I found thy hand right fain to aid."

"O thou ninny foe," quoth the fox, "how art thou reduced to
humiliation and prostration and abjection and submission, after
insolence and pride and tyranny and arrogance! Verily, I kept
company with thee only for fear of thy fury and I cajoled thee
without one hope of fair treatment from thee: but now trembling
is come upon thee and vengeance hath overtaken thee." And he
repeated these two couplets,

     "O thou who seekest innocence to 'guile, *
          Thou'rt caught in trap of thine intentions vile:
     Now drain the draught of shamefullest mischance, *
          And be with other wolves cut off, thou scroyle!"

Replied the wolf, "O thou clement one, speak not with the tongue
of enemies nor look with their eyes; but fulfil the covenant of
fellowship with me, ere the time of applying remedy cease to be.
Rise and make ready to get me a rope and tie one end of it to a
tree; then let the other down to me, that I may lay hold of it,
so haply I shall from this my strait win free, and I will give
thee all my hand possesseth of wealth and fee." Quoth the fox,
"Thou persistest in conversation concerning what will not procure
thy liberation. Hope not for this, for thou shalt never, never
get of me wherewithal to set thee at liberty; but call to mind
thy past misdeeds and the craft and perfidy thou didst imagine
against me and bethink thee how near thou art to being stoned to
death. For know that thy soul is about the world to quit and
cease in it and depart from it; so shalt thou to destruction hie
and ill is the abiding-place thou shalt aby!"[FN#153] Rejoined
the wolf, "O Father of the Fortlet, hasten to return to amity and
persist not in this rancorous enmity. Know that whoso from ruin
saveth a soul, is as if he had quickened it and made it whole;
and whoso saveth a soul alive, is as if he had saved all
mankind.[FN#154] Follow not frowardness, for the wise forbid it:
and it were most manifest frowardness to leave me in this pit
draining the agony of death and dight to look upon mine own doom,
whenas it lieth in thy power to deliver me from my stowre. So do
thy best to release me and deal with me benevolently." Answered
the fox, "O thou base and barbarous wretch, I compare thee,
because of the fairness of thy professions and expressions, and
the foulness of thy intentions and thy inventions to the Falcon
and the Partridge." Asked the wolf, "How so?"; and the fox began
to tell



The Tale of the Falcon[FN#155] and the Partridge.[FN#156]



Once upon a time I entered a vineyard to eat of its grapes; and,
whilst so doing behold, I saw a falcon stoop upon a partridge and
seize him; but the partridge escaped from the seizer and,
entering his nest, hid himself there. The falcon followed apace
and called out to him, saying, "O imbecile, I saw thee
an-hungered in the wold and took pity on thee; so I picked up for
thee some grain and took hold of thee that thou mightest eat; but
thou fleddest from me; and I wot not the cause of thy flight,
except it were to put upon me a slight. Come out, then, and take
the grain I have brought thee to eat and much good may it do
thee, and with thy health agree." When the partridge heard these
words, he believed and came out to him, whereupon the falcon
struck his talons into him and seized him. Cried the partridge,
"Is this that which thou toldest me thou hadst brought me from
the wold, and whereof thou badest me eat, saying, 'Much good may
it do thee, and with thy health agree?' Thou hast lied to me, and
may Allah cause what thou eatest of my flesh to be a killing
poison in thy maw!" So when the falcon had eaten the partridge,
his feathers fell off and his strength failed and he died on the
spot. "Know, then, O wolf!" (pursued the fox), "that he who
diggeth for his brother a pit himself soon falleth into it, and
thou first deceivedst me in mode unfit." Quoth the wolf, "Spare
me this discourse nor saws and tales enforce, and remind me not
of my former ill course, for sufficeth me the sorry plight I
endure perforce, seeing that I am fallen into a place, in which
even my foe would pity me, much more a true friend. Rather find
some trick to deliver me and be thou thereby my saviour. If this
cause thee trouble, remember that a true friend will undertake
the sorest travail for his true friend's sake and will risk his
life to deliver him from evil; and indeed it hath been said, 'A
leal friend is better than a real brother.' So if thou stir
thyself to save me and I be saved, I will forsure gather thee
such store as shall be a provision for thee against want however
sore; and truly I will teach thee rare tricks whereby to open
whatso bounteous vineyards thou please and strip the fruit-laden
trees." Rejoined the fox, laughing, "How excellent is what the
learned say of him who aboundeth in ignorance like unto thee!"
Asked the wolf, "What do the wise men say?" And the fox answered,
"They have observed that the gross of body are gross of mind, far
from intelligence and nigh unto ignorance. As for thy saying, O
thou stupid, cunning idiot! that a true friend should undertake
sore travail for his true friend's sake, it is sooth as thou
sayest, but tell me, of thine ignorance and poverty of
intelligence, how can I be a true friend to thee, considering thy
treachery. Dost thou count me thy true friend? Nay, I am thy foe
who joyeth in thy woe; and couldst thou trow it, this word were
sorer to thee than slaughter by shot of shaft. As for thy promise
to provide me a store against want however sore and teach me
tricks, to plunder whatso bounteous vineyards I please, and spoil
fruit-laden trees, how cometh it, O guileful traitor, that thou
knowest not a wile to save thyself from destruction? How far art
thou from profiting thyself and how far am I from accepting thy
counsel! If thou have any tricks, make shift for thyself to save
thee from the risk, wherefrom I pray Allah to make thine escape
far distant! So look, O fool, if there be any trick with thee;
and therewith save thyself from death ere thou lavish instruction
upon thy neighbours. But thou art like a certain man attacked by
a disease, who went to another diseased with the same disease,
and said to him, 'Shall I heal thee of thy disease?' Replied the
sick man, 'Why dost thou not begin by healing thyself?' So he
left him and went his way. And thou, O ignorant wolf, art like
this; so stay where thou art and under what hath befallen thee be
of good heart!" When the wolf heard what the fox said, he knew
that from him he had no hope of favour; so he wept for himself,
saying, "Verily, I have been heedless of my weal; but if Allah
deliver me from this ill I will assuredly repent of my arrogance
towards those who are weaker than I, and will wear
woollens[FN#157] and go upon the mountains, celebrating the
praises of Almighty Allah and fearing His punishment. And I will
withdraw from the company of other wild beasts and forsure will I
feed the poor fighters for the Faith." Then he wept and wailed,
till the heart of the fox softened when he heard his humble words
and his professions of penitence for his past insolence and
arrogance. So he took pity upon him and sprang up joyfully and,
going to the brink of the breach, squatted down on his hind
quarters and let his tail hang in the hole; whereupon the wolf
arose and putting out his paw, pulled the fox's tail, so that he
fell down in the pit with him. Then said the wolf, "O fox of
little mercy, why didst thou exult in my misery, thou that wast
my companion and under my dominion? Now thou art fallen into the
pit with me and retribution hath soon overtaken thee. Verily, the
sages have said, 'If one of you reproach his brother with sucking
the dugs of a bitch, he also shall suck her.' And how well quoth
the poet,

     'When Fortune weighs heavy on some of us, *
          And makes camel kneel by some other one,[FN#158]
     Say to those who rejoice in our ills: --Awake! *
          The rejoicer shall suffer as we have done!'

And death in company is the best of things;[FN#159] wherefore I
will certainly and assuredly hasten to slay thee ere thou see me
slain." Said the fox to himself, "Ah! Ah! I am fallen into the
snare with this tyrant, and my case calleth for the use of craft
and cunning; for indeed it is said that a woman fashioneth her
jewellery for the day of display, and quoth the proverb, 'I have
not kept thee, O my tear, save for the time when distress draweth
near.' And unless I make haste to circumvent this prepotent beast
I am lost without recourse; and how well saith the poet,

     'Make thy game by guile, for thou'rt born in a Time *
          Whose sons are lions in forest lain;
     And turn on the leat[FN#160] of thy knavery *
          That the mill of subsistence may grind thy grain;
     And pluck the fruits or, if out of reach, *
          Why, cram thy maw with the grass on plain.'"

Then said the fox to the wolf, "Hasten not to slay me, for that
is not the way to pay me and thou wouldst repent it, O thou
valiant wild beast, lord of force and exceeding prowess! An thou
accord delay and consider what I shall say, thou wilt ken what
purpose I proposed; but if thou hasten to kill me it will profit
thee naught and we shall both die in this very place." Answered
the wolf "O thou wily trickster, what garreth thee hope to work
my deliverance and thine own, that thou prayest me to grant thee
delay? Speak and propound to me thy purpose." Replied the fox,
"As for the purpose I proposed, it was one which deserveth that
thou guerdon me handsomely for it; for when I heard thy promises
and thy confessions of thy past misdeeds and regrets for not
having earlier repented and done good; and when I heard thee
vowing, shouldst thou escape from this strait, to leave harming
thy fellows and others; forswear the eating of grapes and of all
manner fruits; devote thyself to humility; cut thy claws and
break thy dog-teeth; don woollens and offer thyself as an
offering to Almighty Allah, then indeed I had pity upon thee, for
true words are the best words. And although before I had been
anxious for thy destruction, whenas I heard thy repenting and thy
vows of amending should Allah vouchsafe to save thee, I felt
bound to free thee from this thy present plight. So I let down my
tail, that thou mightest grasp it and be saved. Yet wouldest thou
not quit thy wonted violence and habit of brutality; nor
soughtest thou to save thyself by fair means, but thou gavest me
a tug which I thought would sever body from soul, so that thou
and I are fallen into the same place of distress and death. And
now there is but one thing can save us and, if thou accept it of
me, we shall both escape; and after it behoveth thee to fulfil
the vows thou hast made and I will be thy veritable friend."
Asked the wolf, "What is it thou proposest for mine acceptance?"
Answered the fox, "It is that thou stand up at full height till I
come nigh on a level with the surface of the earth. Then will I
give a spring and reach the ground; and, when out of the pit, I
will bring thee what thou mayst lay hold of, and thus shalt thou
make thine escape." Rejoined the wolf, "I have no faith in thy
word, for sages have said, 'Whoso practiseth trust in the place
of hate, erreth;' and, 'Whoso trusteth in the untrustworthy is a
dupe; he who re-trieth him who hath been tried shall reap
repentance and his days shall go waste; and he who cannot
distinguish between case and case, giving each its due, and
assigneth all the weight to one side, his luck shall be little
and his miseries shall be many.' How well saith the poet,

     'Let thy thought be ill and none else but ill; *
          For suspicion is best of the worldling's skill:
     Naught casteth a man into parlous place *
          But good opinion and (worse) good-will!'

And the saying of another,

     'Be sure all are villains and so bide safe; *
          Who lives wide awake on few Ills shall light:
     Meet thy foe with smiles and a smooth fair brow, *
          And in heart raise a host for the battle dight!'

And that of yet another,[FN#161]

     'He thou trusted most is thy worst unfriend; *
          'Ware all and take heed with whom thou wend:
     Fair opinion of Fortune is feeble sign; *
          So believe her ill and her Ills perpend!'"

Quoth the fox, "Verily mistrust and ill opinion of others are not
to be commended in every case; nay trust and confidence are the
characteristics of a noble nature and the issue thereof is
freedom from stress of fear. Now it behoveth thee, O thou wolf,
to devise some device for thy deliverance from this thou art in,
and our escape will be better to us both than our death: so quit
thy distrust and rancour; for if thou trust in me one of two
things will happen; either I shall bring thee something whereof
to lay hold and escape from this case, or I shall abandon thee to
thy doom. But this thing may not be, for I am not safe from
falling into some such strait as this thou art in, which, indeed,
would be fitting punishment of perfidy. Of a truth the adage
saith, 'Faith is fair and faithlessness is foul.'[FN#162] So it
behoveth thee to trust in me, for I am not ignorant of the haps
and mishaps of the world; and delay not to contrive some device
for our deliverance, as the case is too close to allow further
talk." Replied the wolf, "For all my want of confidence in thy
fidelity, verily I knew what was in thy mind and that thou wast
moved to deliver me whenas thou heardest my repentance, and I
said to myself, 'If what he asserteth be true, he will have
repaired the ill he did; and if false, it resteth with the Lord
to requite him.' So, look'ee, I have accepted thy proposal and,
if thou betray me, may thy traitorous deed be the cause of thy
destruction!" Then the wolf stood bolt upright in the pit and,
taking the fox upon his shoulders, raised him to the level of the
ground, whereupon Reynard gave a spring from his back and lighted
on the surface of the earth. When he found himself safely out of
the cleft he fell down senseless and the wolf said to him, "O my
friend! neglect not my case and delay not to deliver me." The fox
laughed with a loud haw-haw and replied, "O dupe, naught threw me
into thy hands save my laughing at thee and making mock of thee;
for in good sooth when I heard thee profess repentance, mirth and
gladness seized me and I frisked about and made merry and danced,
so that my tail hung low into the pit and thou caughtest hold of
it and draggedst me down with thee. And the end was that Allah
Almighty delivered me from thy power. Then why should I be other
than a helper in thy destruction, seeing that thou art of Satan's
host? I dreamt yesterday that I danced at thy wedding and I told
my dream to an interpreter who said to me, 'Verily thou shalt
fall into imminent deadly danger and thou shalt escape
therefrom.' So now I know that my falling into thy hand and my
escape are the fulfillment of my dream, and thou, O imbecile,
knowest me for thy foe; so how couldest thou, of thine ignorance
and unintelligence, nurse desire of deliverance at my hands,
after all thou hast heard of harsh words from me; and wherefore
should I attempt thy salvation whenas the sages have said, 'In
the death of the wicked is rest for mankind and a purge for the
earth'? But, were it not that I fear to bear more affliction by
keeping faith with thee than the sufferings which follow perfidy,
I had done mine endeavour to save thee." When the wolf heard
this, he bit his forehand for repentance. --And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When it was the One Hundred and Fiftieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
wolf heard the fox's words he bit his forehand for repentance.
Then he gave the fox fair words, but this availed naught and he
was at his wits' end for what to do; so he said to him in soft,
low accents, "Verily, you tribe of foxes are the most pleasant
people in point of tongue and the subtlest in jest, and this is
but a joke of thine; but all times are not good for funning and
jesting." The fox replied, "O ignoramus, in good sooth jesting
hath a limit which the jester must not overpass; and deem not
that Allah will again give thee possession of me after having
once delivered me from thy hand." Quoth the wolf, "It behoveth
thee to compass my release, by reason of our brotherhood and good
fellowship; and, if thou release me, I will assuredly make fair
thy recompense." Quoth the fox, "Wise men say, 'Take not to
brother the wicked fool, for he will disgrace thee in lieu of
gracing thee; nor take to brother the liar for, if thou do good,
he will conceal it; and if thou do ill he will reveal it.' And
again, the sages have said, 'There is help for everything but
death: all may be warded off, except Fate.' As for the reward
thou declarest to be my due from thee, I compare thee herein with
the serpent which fled from the charmer.[FN#163] A man saw her
affrighted and said to her, 'What aileth thee, O thou serpent?'
Replied she, 'I am fleeing from the snake-charmer, for he seeketh
to trap me and, if thou wilt save me and hide me with thee, I
will make fair thy reward and do thee all manner of kindness.' So
he took her, incited thereto by lust for the recompense and eager
to find favour with Heaven, and set her in his breastpocket. Now
when the charmer had passed and had wended his way and the
serpent had no longer any cause to fear, he said to her, 'Where
is the reward thou didst promise me? Behold, I have saved thee
from that thou fearedest and soughtest to fly.' Replied she,
'Tell me in what limb or in what place shall I strike thee with
my fangs, for thou knowest we exceed not that recompense.' So
saying, she gave him a bite whereof he died. And I liken thee, O
dullard, to the serpent in her dealings with that man. Hast thou
not heard what the poet saith?

     'Trust not to man when thou hast raised his spleen *
          And wrath, nor that 'twill cool do thou misween:
     Smooth feels the viper to the touch and glides *
          With grace, yet hides she deadliest venene.'"

Quoth the wolf, "O thou glib of gab and fair of face, ignore not
my case and men's fear of me; and well thou weetest how I assault
the strongly walled place and uproot the vines from base.
Wherefore, do as I bid thee, and stand before me even as the
thrall standeth before his lord." Quoth the fox, "O stupid
dullard who seekest a vain thing, I marvel at thy folly and thy
front of brass in that thou biddest me serve thee and stand up
before thee as I were a slave bought with thy silver; but soon
shalt thou see what is in store for thee, in the way of cracking
thy sconce with stones and knocking out thy traitorous
dog-teeth." So saying the fox clomb a hill overlooking the
vineyard and standing there, shouted out to the vintagers; nor
did he give over shouting till he woke them and they, seeing him,
all came up to him in haste. He stood his ground till they drew
near him and close to the pit wherein was the wolf; and then he
turned and fled. So the folk looked into the cleft and, spying
the wolf, set to pelting him with heavy stones, and they stinted
not smiting him with stones and sticks, and stabbing him with
spears, till they killed him and went away. Thereupon the fox
returned to that cleft and, standing over the spot where his foe
had been slain, saw the wolf dead: so he wagged his head for very
joyance and began to recite these couplets,

     "Fate the Wolf's soul snatched up from wordly stead; *
          Far be from bliss his soul that perished!
     Abu Sirhan![FN#164] how sore thou sought'st my death; *
          Thou, burnt this day in fire of sorrow dread:
     Thou'rt fallen into pit, where all who fall *
          Are blown by Death-blast down among the dead."

Thenceforward the aforesaid fox abode alone in the vineyard unto
the hour of his death secure and fearing no hurt. And such are
the adventures of the wolf and the fox. But men also tell a



          TALE OF THE MOUSE AND THE ICHNEUMON[FN#165]



A mouse and an ichneumon once dwelt in the house of a peasant who
was very poor; and when one of his friends sickened, the doctor
prescribed him husked sesame.  So the hind sought of one of his
comrades sesame to be husked by way of healing the sick man; and,
when a measure thereof was given to him, he carried it home to
his wife and bade her dress it.  So she steeped it and husked it
and spread it out to dry.  Now when the ichneumon saw the grain,
she went up to it and fell to carrying it away to her hole, and
she toiled all day, till she had borne off the most of it.
Presently, in came the peasant's wife and, seeing much of the
grain gone, stood awhile wondering; after which she sat down to
watch and find out who might be the intruder and make him account
for her loss.  After a while, out crept the ichneumon to carry
off the grain as was her wont, but spying the woman seated there,
knew that she was on the watch for her and said in her mind,
"Verily, this affair is like to end blameably; and sore I fear me
this woman is on the look-out for me, and Fortune is no friend to
who attend not to issue and end: so there is no help for it but
that I do a fair deed, whereby I may manifest my innocence and
wash out all the ill-doings I have done."  So saying, she began
to take the sesame out of her hole and carry it forth and lay it
back upon the rest.  The woman stood by and, seeing the ichneumon
do thus, said to herself, "Verily this is not the cause of our
loss, for she bringeth it back from the hole of him who stole it
and returneth it to its place; and of a truth she hath done us a
kindness in restoring us the sesame, and the reward of those who
do us good is that we do them the like good.  It is clear that it
is not she who stole the grain; but I will not cease my watching
till he fall into my hands and I find out who is the thief."  The
ichneumon guess what was in her mind, so she went to the mouse
and said to her, "O my sister, there is no good in one who
observeth not the claims of neighborship and who showeth no
constancy in friendship."  The mouse replied, "Even so, O my
friend, and I delight in thee and in they neighborhood; but what
be the motive of this speech?"  Quoth the ichneumon, "The house-
master hath brought home sesame and hath eaten his fill of it, he
and his family, and hath left much; every living being hath eaten
of it and, if thou take of it in they turn, thou art worthier
thereof than any other."  This pleased the mouse and she squeaked
for joy and danced and frisked her ears and tail, and greed for
the grain deluded her; so she rose at once and issuing forth of
her home, saw the sesame husked and dry, shining with whiteness,
and the woman sitting at watch and ward.  The mouse, taking no
thought to the issue of the affair (for the woman had armed
herself with a cudgel), and unable to contain herself, ran up to
the sesame and began turning it over and eating of it; whereupon
the woman smote her with that club and cleft her head: so the
cause of her destruction were her greed and heedlessness of
consequences.  Then said the Sultan, "O Shahrazad, by Allah! this
be a goodly parable!  Say me, hast thou any story bearing on the
beauty of true friendship and the observance of its duty in time
of distress and rescuing from destruction?"  Answered she:--Yes,
it hath reached me that they tell a tale of



                  THE CAT[FN#166] AND THE CROW



Once upon a time, a crow and a cat lived in brotherhood; and one
day as they were together under a tree, behold, they spied a
leopard making towards them, and they were not aware of his
approach till he was close upon them.  The crow at once flew up
to the tree-top; but the cat abode confounded and said to the
crow, "O my friend, hast thou no device to save me, even as all
my hope is in thee?"  Replied the crow, "Of very truth it
behoveth brethren, in case of need, to cast about for a device
when peril overtaketh them, and how well saith the poet,

     ‘A friend in need is he who, ever true, *
     For they well-doing would himself undo:
     One who when Fortune gars us parting rue *
     Victimeth self reunion to renew.'"

Now hard by that tree were shepherds with their dogs; so the crow
flew towards them and smote the face of the earth with his wings,
cawing and crying out.  Furthermore he went up to one of the dogs
and flapped his wings in his face and flew up a little way,
whilst the dog ran after him thinking to catch him.  Presently,
one of the shepherds raised his head and saw the bird flying near
the ground and lighting alternately; so he followed him, and the
crow ceased not flying just high enough to save himself and to
throw out the dogs; and yet tempting them to follow for the
purpose of tearing him to pieces.  But as soon as they came near
him, he would fly up a little; and so at last he brought them to
the tree, under which was the leopard.  And when the dogs saw him
they rushed upon him and he turned and fled.  Now the leopard
thought to eat the cat who was saved by the craft of his friend
the crow.  This story, O King, showeth that the friendship of the
Brothers of Purity[FN#167] delivereth and saveth from
difficulties and from falling into mortal dangers.  And they also
tell a tale of



                      THE FOX AND THE CROW



A Fox once dwelt in a cave of a certain mountain and, as often as
a cub was born to him and grew stout, he would eat the young one,
for he had died of hunger, had he instead of so doing left the
cub alive and bred it by his side and preserved and cherished his
issue.  Yet was this very grievous to him.  Now on the crest of
the same mountain a crow had made his nest, and the fox said to
himself, "I have a mind to set up a friendship with this crow and
make a comrade of him, that he may help me to my daily bread; for
he can do in such matters what I cannot."  So he drew near the
crow's home and, when he came within sound of speech, he saluted
him and said, "O my neighbour, verily a true-believer hath two
claims upon his true-believing neighbour, the right of
neighbourliness and the right of Al-Islam, our common faith; and
know, O my friend, that thou art my neighbour and thou hast a
claim upon me which it behoveth me to observe, the more that I
have long been thy neighbour.  Also, there be implanted in my
breast a store of love to thee, which biddeth me speak thee fair
and obligeth me to solicit thy brothership.  What sayest thou in
reply?"  Answered the crow, "Verily, the truest speech is the
best speech; and haply thou speakest with thy tongue that which
is not in thy heart; so I fear lest thy brotherhood be only of
the tongue, outward, and thy enmity be in the heart, inward; for
that thou art the Eater and I the Eaten, and faring apart were
apter to us than friendship and fellowship.  What, then, maketh
thee seek that which thou mayst not gain and desire what may not
be done, seeing that I be of the bird-kind and thou be of the
beast-kind?  Verily, this thy proffered brotherhood[FN#168] may
not be made, neither were it seemly to make it."  Rejoined the
fox, "Of a truth whoso knoweth the abiding-place of excellent
things, maketh better choice in what he chooseth therefrom, so
perchance he may advantage his brethren; and indeed I should love
to wone near thee and I have sued for thine intimacy, to the end
that we may help each other to our several objects; and success
shall surely wait upon our amity.  I have a many tales of the
goodliness of true friendship, which I will relate to thee if
thou wish the relating."  Answered the crow, "Thou hast my leave
to let me hear thy communication; so tell thy tale, and relate it
to me that I may hearken to it and weigh it and judge of thine
intent thereby."  Rejoined the fox, "Hear then, O my friend, that
which is told of a flea and a mouse and which beareth out what I
have said to thee."  Asked the crow, "How so?" and the fox
answered:--They tell this tale of



The Flea and the Mouse



Once upon a time a mouse dwelt in the house of a merchant who
owned much merchandise and great stories of monies.  One night, a
flea took shelter in the merchant's carpet-bed and, finding his
body soft, and being thirsty drank of his blood.  The merchant
was awakened by the smart of the bite and sitting up called to
his slave-girls and serving men.  So they hastened to him and,
tucking up their sleeves, fell to searching for the flea; but as
soon as the bloodsucker was aware of the search, he turned to
flee and coming on the mouse's home, entered it.  When the mouse
saw him, she said to him, "What bringeth thee in to me, thou who
art not of my nature nor of my kind, and who canst not be assured
of safety from violence or of not being expelled with roughness
and ill usage?"  Answered the flea, "Of a truth, I took refuge in
thy dwelling to save me from slaughter; and I have come to thee
seeking thy protection and on nowise coveting thy house; nor
shall any mischief betide thee from me to make thee leave thy
home.  Nay I hope right soon to repay thy favours to me with all
good and then shalt thou see and praise the issue of my words."
And when the mouse heard the speech of the flea, - And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.


       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-first Night

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
mouse heard the words of the flea, she said, "If the case be as
thou dost relate and describe, then be at thine ease here; for
naught shall befal thee save the rain of peace and safety; nor
shall aught betide thee but what shall joy thee and shall not
annoy thee, nor shall it annoy me.  I will lavish on thee my
affections without stint; and do not thou regret having lost the
merchant's blood nor lament for thy subsistence from him, but be
content with what sustenance thou canst obtain; for indeed that
is the safer for thee.  And I have heard, O flea, that one of the
gnomic poets saith as follows in these couplets,

‘I have fared content in my solitude *
     With wate'er befel, and led life of ease,
On a water-draught and a bite of bread, *
     Coarse salt and a gown of tattered frieze:
Allah might, an He pleased, give me easiest life, *
     But with whatso pleaseth Him self I please.'"

Now when the flea heard these words of the mouse, he rejoined, "I
hearken to thy charge and I submit myself to obey thee, nor have
I power to gainsay thee, till life be fulfilled in this righteous
intention."  Replied the mouse, "Pure intention sufficeth to
sincere affection."  So the tie of love arose and was knitted
between them twain, and after this, the flea used to visit the
merchant's bed by night and not exceed in his diet, and house him
by day in the hole of the mouse.  Now it came to pass one night,
the merchant brought home great store of dinars and began to turn
them over.  When the mouse heard the chink of the coin, she put
her head out of her hole and fell to gazing at it, till the
merchant laid it under his pillow and went to sleep, when she
said to the flea, "Seest thou not the proffered occasion and the
great good fortune?  Hast thou any device to bring us to our
desire of yonder dinars?  Quoth the flea, "Verily, it is not good
that one strives for aught, unless he be able to win his will;
because, if he lack ability thereto, he falleth into that which
he should avoid and he attaineth not his wish by reason of his
weakness, albeit he use all power of cunning, like the sparrow
which picketh up grain and falleth into the net and is caught by
the fowler.  Thou hast no strength to take the dinars and to
transport them out of this house, nor have I force sufficient to
do this; I the contrary, I could not carry a single ducat of
them; so what hast thou to do with them?"  Quoth the mouse, "I
have made me for my house these seventy openings, whence I may go
out at my desire, and I have set apart a place strong and safe,
for things of price; and if thou can contrive to get the merchant
out of the house, I doubt not of success, an so be that
Fate aid me."  Answered the flea, "I will engage to get him out
of the house for thee;" and, going to the merchant's bed, bit him
a fearful bite, such as he had never before felt, then fled to a
place of safety, where he had no fear of the man.  So the
merchant awoke and sought for the flea, but finding him not, lay
down again on his other side.  Then the flea bit him a second
time more painfully than before.  So he lost patience and,
leaving his bed, went out and lay down on the bench before his
door and slept there and woke not till the morning.  Meanwhile
the mouse came out and fell to carrying the dinars into her hole,
till she left not a single one; and when day dawned the merchant
began to suspect the folk and fancy all manner of fancies.  And
(continued the fox) know thou, O wise and experienced crow with
the clear-seeing eyes, that I tell thee this only to the intent
that thou mayst reap the recompense of thy kindness to me, even
as the mouse reaped the reward of her kindness to the flea; for
see how he repaid her and requited her with the goodliest of
requitals.  Said the crow, "It lies with the benefactor to show
benevolence or not to show it; nor is it incumbent on us to
entreat kindly one who seeketh a connection that entaileth
separation from kith and kin.  If I show thee favour who art my
foe by kind, I am the cause of cutting myself off from the world;
and thou, O fox, art full of wiles and guiles.  Now those whose
characteristics are craft and cunning, must not be trusted upon
oath; and whoso is not to be trusted upon oath, in him there is
no good faith.  The tidings lately reached me of thy treacherous
dealing with one of thy comrades, which was a wolf; and how thou
didst deceive him until thou leddest him into destruction by thy
perfidy and stratagems; and this thou diddest after he was of
thine own kind and thou hadst long consorted with him: yet didst
thou not spare him; and if thou couldst deal thus with thy fellow
which was of thine own kind, how can I have trust in they truth
and what would be thy dealing with thy foe of other kind than thy
kind?  Nor can I compare thee and me but with the saker and the
birds."  "How so?" asked the fox.  Answered the crow, they relate
this tale of



The Saker[FN#169] and the Birds.



There was once a saker who was a cruel tyrant"--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.


       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-second Night

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the crow
pursued, "They relate that there was once a saker who was a cruel
tyrant in the days of his youth, so that the raveners of the air
and the scavengers of the earth feared him, none being safe from
his mischief; and many were the haps and mishaps of his tyranny
and his violence, for this saker was ever in the habit of
oppressing and injuring all the other birds.  As the years passed
over him, he grew feeble and his force failed him, so that he was
often famished; but his cunning waxed stronger with the waning of
his strength and redoubled in his endeavour and determined to be
present at the general assembly of the birds, that he might eat
of their orts and leavings; so in this manner he fed by fraud
instead of feeding by fierceness and force.  And out, O fox, art
like this:  if thy might fail thee, thy sleight faileth thee not;
and I doubt not that thy seeking my society is a fraud to get thy
food; but I am none of those who fall to thee and put fist into
thy fist;[FN#170] for that Allah hath vouchsafed force to my
wings and caution to my mind and sharp sight to my eyes; and I
know that whoso apeth a stronger than he, wearieth himself and
haply cometh to ruin.  Wherefore I fear for thee lest, if thou
ape a stronger than thyself, there befal thee what befel the
sparrow."  Asked the fox, "What befel the sparrow?"  Allah upon
thee, tell me his tale."  And the crow began to relate the story
of



The Sparrow and the Eagle



I have heard that a sparrow was once flitting over a sheep-fold,
when he looked at it carefully and behold, he saw a great eagle
swoop down upon a newly weaned lamb and carry it off in his claws
and fly away.  Thereupon the sparrow clapped his wings and said,
"I will do even as this one did;" and he waxed proud in his own
conceit and mimicked a greater than he.  So he flew down
forthright and lighted on the back of a fat ram with a thick
fleece that was become matted by his lying in his dung and stale
till it was like woollen felt.  As soon as the sparrow pounced
upon the sheep's back he flapped his wings to fly away, but his
feet became tangled in the wool and, however hard he tried, he
could not set himself free.  While all this was doing the
shepherd was looking on, having seen what happened first with the
eagle and afterwards with the sparrow; so he came up to the wee
birdie in a rage and seized him.  Then he plucked out his wing-
feathers and, tying his feet with a twine, carried him to his
children and threw him to them.  "What is this?" asked one of
them; and he answered, "This is he that aped a greater than
himself and came to grief."  "Now thou, O fox, art like this and
I would have thee beware of aping a greater than thou, lest thou
perish.  This is all I have to say to thee; so fare from me in
peace!"  When the fox despaired of the crow's friendship, he
turned away, groaning for sorrow and gnashing teeth upon teeth in
his disappointment; and the crow, hearing the sound of weeping
and seeing his grief and profound melancholy, said to him, "O
fox, what dole and dolour make thee gnash thy canines?"  Answered
the fox, "I gnash my canines because I find thee a greater rascal
than myself;" and so saying he made off to his house and ceased
not to fare until he reached his home.  Quoth the Sultan, "O
Shahrazad, how excellent are these thy stories, and how
delightsome!  Hast thou more of such edifying tales?"  Answered
she:--They tell this legend concerning



               THE HEDGEHOG AND THE WOOD-PIGEONS



A hedgehog once too up his abode by the side of a date-palm,
whereon roosted a wood-pigeon and his wife that had built their
next there and lived a life of ease and enjoyment.  So he said to
himself, "This pigeon-pair eateth of the fruit of the date tree
and I have no means of getting at it; but needs must I find some
fashion of tricking them.  Upon this he dug a hole at the foot of
the palm tree and took up his lodgings there, he and his wife;
moreover, he built an oratory beside the hole and went into
retreat there and made a show of devotion and edification and
renunciation of the world.  The male pigeon saw him praying and
worshipping, and his heart was softened towards him for his
excess of devoutness; so he said to him, "How many years hast
thou been thus?"  Replied the hedgehog, "During the last thirty
years."  "What is thy food?"  "That which falleth from the palm-
tree."  "And what is thy clothing?"  "Prickles! and I profit by
their roughness."  "And why hast thou chosen this for place
rather than another?"  "I chose it and preferred it to all others
that I might guide the erring into the right way and teach the
ignorant!"  "I had fancied thy case," quoth the wood-pigeon,
"other than this, but now I yearn for that which is with thee."
Quoth the hedgehog, "I fear lest thy deed contradict thy word and
thou be even as the husbandman who, when the seed-season came,
neglected to sow, saying, ‘Verily I dread lest the days bring me
not to my desire and by making hast to sow I shall only waste my
substance!'  When harvest-time came and he saw the folk earing
their crops, he repented him of what he had lost by his tardiness
and he died of chagrin and vexation."  Asked the wood-pigeon,
"What then shall I do that I may be freed from the bonds of the
world and cut myself loose from all things save the service of my
Lord?"  Answered the hedgehog, "Betake thee to preparing for the
next world and content thyself with a pittance of provision."
Quoth the pigeon, "How can I do this, I that am a bird and unable
to go beyond the date-tree whereon is my daily bread?  And even
could I do so, I know of no other place wherein I may wone."
Quoth the hedgehog, "Thou canst shake down of the fruit of the
date-tree what shall suffice thee and thy wife for a year's
provaunt; then do ye take up your abode in a nest under the
trunk, that ye may prayerfully seek to be guided in the right
way, and then turn thou to what thou hast shaken down and
transport it all to thy home and store it up against what time
the dates fail; and when the fruits are spent and the delay is
longsome upon you, address thyself to total abstinence."
Exclaimed the pigeon, "Allah requite thee with good for the
righteous intention wherewith thou hast reminded me of the world
to come and hast directed me into the right way!"  Then he and
his wife worked hard at knocking down the dates, till nothing was
left on the palm-tree, whilst the hedgehog, finding whereof to
eat, rejoiced and filled his den with the fruit, storing it up
for his subsistence and saying in his mind, "When the pigeon and
his wife have need of their provision, they will seek it of me
and covet what I have, relying upon thy devoutness and
abstinence; and, from what they have heard of my counsels and
admonitions, they will draw near unto me.  Then will I make them
my prey and eat them, after which I shall have the place and all
that drops from the date-tree to suffice me." presently, having
shaken down the fruits, the pigeon and his wife descended from
the tree-top and finding that the hedgehog had removed all the
dates to his own place, said to him, "O hedgehog! thou pious
preacher and of good counsel, we can find no sign of the dates
and know not on what else we shall feed."  Replied the hedgehog,
"Probably the winds have carried them away; but the turning from
the provisions to the Provider is of the essence of salvation,
and He who the mouth-corners cleft, the mouth without victual
hath never left."  And he gave not over improving the occasion to
them on this wise, and making a show of piety and cozening them
with fine words and false until they put faith in him and
accepted him and entered his den and had no suspicion of his
deceit.  Thereupon he sprang to the door and gnashed his teeth,
and the wood-pigeon, seeing his perfidy manifested, said to him,
"What hath to-night to do with yester-night?  Knowest thou not
that there is a Helper for the oppressed?  Beware of craft and
treachery, lest that mishap befal thee which befel the sharpers
who plotted against the merchant."  "What was that?" asked the
hedgehog.  Answered the pigeon:--I have heard tell this tale of



The Merchant and the Two Shapers



In a city called Sindah there was once a very wealthy merchant,
who made ready his camel-loads and equipped himself with goods
and set out with his outfit for such a city, purposing to sell it
there.  Now he was followed by two sharpers, who had made up into
bales what merchandise they could get; and, giving out to the
merchant that they also were merchants, wended with him by the
way.  So halting at the first halting-place they agreed to play
him false and take all he had; but at the same time, each
inwardly plotted foul play to the other, saying in his mind, "If
I can cheat my comrade, times will go well with me and I shall
have all these goods for myself."  So after planning this
perfidy, one of them took food and putting therein poison,
brought it to his fellow; the other did the same and they both
ate of the poisoned mess and they both died.  Now they had been
sitting with the merchant; so when they left him and were long
absent from him, he sought for tidings of them and found the
twain lying dead; whereby he knew that they were sharpers who had
plotted to play him foul, but their foul play had recoiled upon
themselves.  So the merchant was preserved and took what they
had.  Then quoth the Sultan, "O Shahrazad, verily thou hast
aroused me to all whereof I was negligent!  So continue to edify
me with these fables."  Quoth she:--It hath reached me, O King,
that men tell this tale of



                THE THIEF AND HIS MONKEY[FN#171]



A certain man had a monkey and that man was a thief, who never
entered any of the street-markets of the city wherein he dwelt,
but he made off with great profit.  Now it came to pass one day
that he saw a man offering for sale worn clothes, and he went
calling them in the market, but none bid for them and all to whom
he showed them refused to buy of him.  Presently the thief who
had the monkey saw the man with the ragged clothes set them in a
wrapper and sit down to rest for weariness; so he made the ape
sport before him to catch his eye and, whilst he was busy gazing
at it, stole the parcel from him.  Then he took the ape and made
off to a lonely place, where he opened the wrapper and, taking
out the old clothes, folded them in a piece of costly stuff.
This he carried to another bazar and exposed for sale together
with what was therein, making it a condition that it should not
be opened, and tempting the folk with the lowness of the price he
set on it.  A certain man saw the wrapper and its beauty pleased
him; so he bought the parcel on these terms and carried it home,
doubting not that he had done well.  When his wife saw it she
asked, "What is this?" and he answered, "It is costly stuff,
which I have bought at lowest price, meaning to sell it again and
take the profit."  Rejoined she, "O dupe, would this stuff be
sold under its value, unless it had been stolen?  Dost thou not
know that whoso buyeth aught without examining it, falleth into
error and becometh like unto the weaver?"  Quoth he, "And what is
the story of the weaver?"; and quoth she:--I have heard this take
of



The Foolish Weaver



There was once in a certain village a weaver who worked hard but
could not earn his living save by overwork.  Now it chanced that
one of the richards of the neighbourhood made a marriage feast
and invited the folk thereto: the weaver also was present and
found the guests, who wore rich gear, served with delicate viands
and made much of by the house-master for what he saw of their
fine clothes.  So he said in his mind, "If I change this my craft
for another craft easier to compass and better considered and
more highly paid, I shall amass great store of money and I shall
buy splendid attire, so I may rise in rank and be exalted in
men's eyes and become even with these."  Presently, he beheld one
of the mountebanks, who was present at the feast, climbing up to
the top of a high and towering wall and throwing himself down to
the ground and alighting on his feet.  Whereupon the waver said
to himself, "Needs must I do as this one hath done, for surely I
shall not fail of it."  So he arose and swarmed upon the wall and
casting himself down, broke his neck against the ground and died
forthright.  "Now I tell thee this that thou sayst get thy living
by what way thou knowest and thoroughly understandest, lest
peradventure greed enter into thee and thou lust after what is
not of thy condition."  Quoth the woman's husband, "Not every
wise man is saved by his wisdom, nor is every fool lost by his
folly.  I have seen it happen to a skilful charmer, well versed
in the ways of serpents, to be struck by the fangs of a
snake[FN#172] and killed, and others prevail over serpents who
had no skill in them and no knowledge of their ways."  And he
went contrary to his wife and persisted in buying stolen goods
below their value till he fell under suspicion and perished
therefor: even as perished the sparrow in the tale of



                  THE SPARROW AND THE PEACOCK



There was once upon a time a sparrow, that used every day to
visit a certain king of the birds and ceased not to wait upon him
in the mornings and not to leave him till the evenings, being the
first to go in and the last to go out.  One day, a company of
birds chanced to assemble on a high mountain and one of them said
to another, "Verily, we are waxed many, and many are the
differences between us, and there is no help for it but we have a
king to look into our affairs; so shall we all be at one and our
differences will disappear."  Thereupon up came that sparrow and
counselled them to choose for King the peacock (that is, the
prince he used to visit).  So they chose the peacock to their
King and he, become their sovereign, bestowed largesse upon them
and made the sparrow his secretary and Prime Minister.  Now the
sparrow was wont by times to quit his assiduous serve in the
presence and look into matters in general.  So one day he
absented himself at the usual time, whereat the peacock was sore
troubled; and, while things stood thus, he returned and the
peacock said to him, "What hath delayed thee, and thou the
nearest to me of all my servants and the dearest of all my
dependents?" replied the sparrow, "I have seen a thing which is
doubtful to me and whereat I am affrighted."  Asked the peacock,
"What was it thou sawest?"; and the sparrow answered, "I saw a
man set up a net, hard by my nest, peg down its pegs, strew grain
in its midst and withdraw afar off.  And I sat watching what he
would do when behold, fate and fortune drave thither a crane and
his wife, which fell into the midst of the net and began to cry
out; whereupon the fowler rose up and took them.  This troubled
me, and such is the reason for my absence from thee, O King of
the Age, but never again will I abide in that nest for fear of
the net."  Rejoined the peacock, "Depart not thy dwelling, for
against fate and lot forethought will avail the naught."  And the
sparrow obeyed his bidding and said, "I will forthwith arm myself
with patience and forbear to depart in obedience to the King."
So he ceased not taking care of himself, and carrying food to his
sovereign, who would eat what sufficed him and after feeding
drink his water and dismiss the sparrow.  Now one day as he was
looking into matters, lo and behold! he saw two sparrows fighting
on the ground and said in his mind, "How can I, who am the King's
Wazir, look on and see sparrows fighting in my neighbourhood?  By
Allah, I must make peace between them!"  So he flew down to
reconcile them; but the fowler cast the net over the whole number
and the sparrow happened to be in their very midst.  Then the
fowler arose and took him and gave him to his comrade, saying,
"Take care of him, " I never saw fatter or finer."  But the
sparrow said to himself, "I have fallen into that which I feared
and none but the peacock inspired me with false confidence.  It
availed me naught to beware of the stroke of fate and fortune,
since even he who taketh precaution may never flee from destiny.
And how well said the poet in this poetry,

     "Whatso is not to be shall ne'er become; *
     No wise! and that to be must come to pass;
     Yea it shall come to pass at time ordained, *
     And th' Ignoramus[FN#173] aye shall cry ‘Alas!'"

Whereupon quoth the King, "O Shahrazad, recount me other of these
tales!"; and quoth she, "I will do so during the coming night, if
life be granted to by the King whom Allah bring to honour!"--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-third Night,

She said:--I will relate the



              TALE OF ALI BIN BAKKAR AND OF SHAMS
                           AL-NAHAR.



It hath reached me, O august King, that in days of yore and in
times and ages long gone before, during the Caliphate of Harun
al-Rashid, there was a merchant who named his son Abú
al-Hasan[FN#174] Ali bin Táhir; and the same was great of goods
and grace, while his son was fair of form and face and held in
favour by all folk. He used to enter the royal palace without
asking leave, for all the Caliph's concubines and slave-girls
loved him, and he was wont to be companion with Al-Rashid in his
cups and recite verses to him and tell him curious tales and
witty. Withal he sold and bought in the merchants' bazar, and
there used to sit in his shop a youth named Ali bin Bakkár, of
the sons of the Persian Kings[FN#175] who was formous of form and
symmetrical of shape and perfect of figure, with cheeks red as
roses and joined eyebrows; sweet of speech, laughing-lipped and
delighting in mirth and gaiety. Now it chanced one day, as the
two sat talking and laughing behold, there came up ten damsels
like moons, every one of them complete in beauty and loveliness,
and elegance and grace; and amongst them was a young lady riding
on a she-mule with a saddle of brocade and stirrups of gold. She
wore an outer veil of fine stuff, and her waist was girt with a
girdle of gold-embroidered silk; and she was even as saith the
poet,

     "Silky her skin and silk that zoned waist; *
          Sweet voice; words not o'er many nor too few:
     Two eyes quoth Allah 'Be,' and they became; *
          And work like wine on hearts they make to rue:
     O love I feel! grow greater every night: *
          O solace! Doom-day bring our interview."

And when the cortège reached Abu al-Hasan's shop, she alighted
from her mule, and sitting down on the front board,[FN#176]
saluted him, and he returned her salam. When Ali bin Bakkar saw
her, she ravished his understanding and he rose to go away; but
she said to him, "Sit in thy place. We came to thee and thou
goest away: this is not fair!" Replied he, "O my lady, by Allah,
I flee from what I see; for the tongue of the case saith,

     'She is a sun which towereth high a-sky; *
          So ease thy heart with cure by Patience lent:
     Thou to her skyey height shalt fail to fly; *
          Nor she from skyey height can make descent.'"

When she heard this, she smiled and asked Abu al-Hasan, "What is
the name of this young man?"; who answered, "He is a stranger;"
and she enquired, "What countryman is he?"; whereto the merchant
replied, "He is a descendant of the Persian Kings; his name is
Ali son of Bakkar and the stranger deserveth honour." Rejoined
she, "When my damsel comes to thee, come thou at once to us and
bring him with thee, that we may entertain him in our abode, lest
he blame us and say, 'There is no hospitality in the people of
Baghdad'; for niggardliness is the worst fault a man can have.
Thou hearest what I say to thee and, if thou disobey me, thou
wilt incur my displeasure and I will never again visit thee or
salute thee." Quoth Abu al-Hasan, "On my head and my eyes: Allah
preserve me from thy displeasure, fair lady!" Then she rose and
went her way. Such was her case; but as regards Ali bin Bakkar he
remained in a state of bewilderment. Now after an hour the damsel
came to Abu al-Hasan and said to him, "Of a truth my lady Shams
al-Nahár, the favourite of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun
al-Rashid, biddeth thee to her, thee and thy friend, my lord Ali
bin Bakkar." So he rose and, taking Ali with him, followed the
girl to the Caliph's palace, where she carried them into a
chamber and made them sit down. They talked together awhile, when
behold, trays of food were set before them, and they ate and
washed their hands. Then she brought them wine, and they drank
deep and made merry; after which she bade them rise and carried
them into another chamber, vaulted upon four columns, furnished
after the goodliest fashion with various kinds of furniture, and
adorned with decorations as it were one of the pavilions of
Paradise. They were amazed at the rarities they saw; and, as they
were enjoying a review of these marvels, suddenly up came ten
slave-girls, like moons, swaying and swimming in beauty's pride,
dazzling the sight and confounding the sprite; and they ranged
themselves in two ranks as if they were of the black-eyed Brides
of Paradise. And after a while in came other ten damsels, bearing
in their hands lutes and divers instruments of mirth and music;
and these, having saluted the two guests, sat down and fell to
tuning their lute-strings. Then they rose and standing before
them, played and sang and recited verses: and indeed each one of
them was a seduction to the servants of the Lord. Whilst they
were thus busied there entered other ten damsels like unto them,
high-bosomed maids and of an equal age, with black-eyes and
cheeks like the rose, joined eyebrows and looks languorous; a
very fascination to every faithful wight and to all who looked
upon them a delight; clad in various kinds of coloured silks,
with ornaments that amazed man's intelligence. They took up their
station at the door, and there succeeded them yet other ten
damsels even fairer than they, clad in gorgeous array, such as no
tongue can say; and they also stationed themselves by the
doorway. Then in came a band of twenty damsels and amongst them
the lady, Shams al-Nahar hight, as she were the moon among the
stars swaying from side to side, with luring gait and in beauty's
pride. And she was veiled to the middle with the luxuriance of
her locks, and clad in a robe of azure blue and a mantilla of
silk embroidered with gold and gems of price; and her waist was
girt with a zone set with various kinds of precious stones. She
ceased not to advance with her graceful and coquettish swaying,
till she came to the couch that stood at the upper end of the
chamber and seated herself thereon. But when Ali bin Bakkar saw
her, he versified with these verses,

     "Source of mine evils, truly, she alone 's, *
          Of long love-longing and my groans and moans;
     Near her I find my soul in melting mood, *
          For love of her and wasting of my bones."

And finishing his poetry he said to Abu al-Hasan, "Hadst thou
Dealt more kindly with me thou haddest forewarned me of these
things ere I came hither, that I might have made up my mind and
taken patience to support what hath befallen me." And he wept and
groaned and complained. Replied Abu al-Hasan, "O my brother, I
meant thee naught but good; but I feared to tell thee this, lest
such transport should betide thee as might hinder thee from
foregathering with her, and be a stumbling-block between thee and
her. But be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and
clear;[FN#177] for she to thee inclineth and to favour thee
designeth." Asked Ali bin Bakkar, "What is this young lady's
name?" Answered Abu al-Hasan, "She is hight Shams al-Nahar, one
of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun
al-Rashid, and this is the palace of the Caliphate." Then Shams
al-Nahar sat gazing upon the charms of Ali bin Bakkar and he upon
hers, till both were engrossed with love for each other.
Presently she commanded the damsels, one and all, to be seated,
each in her rank and place, and all sat on a couch before one of
the windows, and she bade them sing; whereupon one of them took
up the lute and began caroling,

"Give thou my message twice * Bring clear reply in trice!
To thee, O Prince of Beau * -ty[FN#178] with complaint I rise:
My lord, as heart-blood dear * And Life's most precious prize!
Give me one kiss in gift * Or loan, if thou devise:
And if thou crave for more * Take all that satisfies.[FN#179]
Thou donn'st me sickness-dress * Thee with health's weed I
     bless."

Her singing charmed Ali bin Bakkar, and he said to her, "Sing me
more of the like of these verses." So she struck the strings and
began to chaunt these lines,

     "By stress of parting, O beloved one, *
          Thou mad'st these eyelids torment- race to run:
     Oh gladness of my sight and dear desire, *
          Goal of my wishes, my religion!
     Pity the youth whose eyne are drowned in tears *
          Of lover gone distraught and clean undone."

When she had finished her verses, Shams al-Nahar said to another
damsel, "Let us hear something from thee!" So she played a lively
measure and began these couplets,

     "His[FN#180] looks have made me drunken, not his wine; *
          His grace of gait disgraced sleep to these eyne:
     Dazed me no cup, but cop with curly crop; *
          His gifts overcame me not the gifts of vine:
     His winding locks my patience-clue unwound: *
          His robed beauties robbed all wits of mine."

When Shams Al-Nahar heard this recital from the damsel, she
sighed heavily and the song pleased her. Then she bade another
damsel sing; so she took the lute and began chanting,

     "Face that with Sol in Heaven lamping vies; *
          Youth-tide's fair fountain which begins to rise;
     Whose curly side-beard writeth writ of love, *
          And in each curl concealeth mysteries:
     Cried Beauty, 'When I met this youth I knew *
          'Tis Allah's loom such gorgeous robe supplies.'"

When she had finished her song, Ali bin Bakkar said to the
slave-maiden nearest him, "Sing us somewhat, thou O damsel." So
she took the lute and began singing,

     "Our trysting-time is all too short *
          For this long coyish coquetry:
     How long this 'Nay, Nay!' and 'Wait, wait?' *
          This is not old nobility!
     And now that Time deigns lend delight *
          Profit of th' opportunity."

When she ended, Ali bin Bakkar followed up her song with flowing
tears; and, as Shams al-Nahar saw him weeping and groaning and
complaining, she burned with love-longing and desire; and passion
and transport consumed her. So she rose from the sofa and came to
the door of the alcove, where Ali met her and they embraced with
arms round the neck, and fell down fainting in the doorway;
whereupon the damsels came to them and carrying them into the
alcove, sprinkled rose-water upon them both. When they recovered,
they found not Abu al-Hasan who had hidden himself by the side of
a couch, and the young lady said, "Where is Abu al-Hasan?" So he
showed himself to her from beside the couch and she saluted him,
saying, "I pray Allah to give me the means of requiting thee, O
kindest of men!" Then she turned to Ali bin Bakkar and said to
him, "O my lord, passion hath not reached this extreme pass with
thee without my feeling the like; but we have nothing to do save
to bear patiently what calamity hath befallen us." Replied he,
"By Allah, O my lady, union with thee may not content me nor
gazing upon thee assuage the fire thou hast lighted, nor shall
leave me the love of thee which hath mastered my heart but with
the leaving of my life." So saying, he wept and the tears ran
down upon his cheeks like thridded pearls; and when Shams
al-Nahar saw him weep, she wept for his weeping. But Abu al-Hasan
exclaimed, "By Allah, I wonder at your case and am confounded at
your condition; of a truth, your affair is amazing and your
chance dazing. What! this weeping while ye are yet together: then
how will it be what time ye are parted and far separated?" And he
continued, "Indeed, this is no tide for weeping and wailing, but
a season for meeting and merry-making; rejoice, therefore, and
take your pleasure and shed no more tears!" Then Shams al-Nahar
signed to a slave-girl, who arose and presently returned with
handmaids bearing a table, whose dishes of silver were full of
various rich viands. They set the table before the pair and Shams
al-Nahar began to eat[FN#181] and to place tid-bits in the mouth
of Ali bin Bakkar; and they ceased not so doing till they were
satisfied, when the table was removed and they washed their
hands. Then the waiting-women fetched censers with all manner of
incense, aloe-wood and ambergris and mixed scents; and
sprinkling-flasks full of rose-water were also brought and they
were fumigated and perfumed. After this the slaves set on vessels
of graven gold, containing all kinds of sherbets, besides fruits
fresh and dried, that heart can desire and eye delight in; and
lastly one brought a flagon of carnelion full of old wine. Then
Shams al-Nahar chose out ten handmaids to attend on them and ten
singing women; and, dismissing the rest to their apartments, bade
some of those who remained strike the lute. They did as she bade
them and one of them began to sing,

     "My soul to him who smiled back my salute, *
          In breast reviving hopes that were no mo'e:
     The hand o' Love my secret brought to light, *
          And censor's tongues what lies my ribs below:[FN#182]
     My tear-drops ever press twixt me and him, *
          As though my tear-drops showing love would flow."

When she had finished her singing, Shams al-Nahar rose and,
filling a goblet, drank it off, then crowned it again and handed
it to Ali bin Bakkar;--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shams
al-Nahar filled a goblet and handed it to Ali bin Bakkar; after
which she bade another damsel sing; and she began singing these
couplets,

     "My tears thus flowing rival with my wine, *
          Pouring the like of what fills cup to brink:[FN#183]
     By Allah wot I not an run these eyne *
          Wi' wine, or else it is of tears I drink."

And when she ended her recitation, Ali bin Bakkar drained his cup
and returned it to Shams al-Nahar. She filled it again and gave
it to Abu al-Hasan who tossed it off. Then she took the lute,
saying, "None shall sing over my cup save myself;" so she screwed
up the strings and intoned these verses,

"The tears run down his cheeks in double row, *
     And in his breast high flameth lover-lowe:
He weeps when near, a-fearing to be far; *
     And, whether far or near, his tear-drops flow."

And the words of another,

"Our life to thee, O cup-boy Beauty-dight! *
     From parted hair to calves; from black to white:
Sol beameth from thy hands, and from thy lips *
     Pleiads, and full Moon through thy collar's night,[FN#184]
Good sooth the cups, which made our heads fly round, *
     Are those thine eyes pass round to daze the sight:
No wonder lovers hail thee as full moon *
     Waning to them, for self e'er waxing bright:
Art thou a deity to kill and quicken, *
     Bidding this fere, forbidding other wight?
Allah from model of thy form made Beau *
     -ty and the Zephyr scented with thy sprite.
Thou art not of this order of human *
     -ity but angel lent by Heaven to man."

When Ali bin Bakkar and Abu al-Hasan and those present heard
Shams al-Nahar's song, they were like to fly for joy, and sported
and laughed; but while they were thus enjoying themselves lo! up
came a damsel, trembling for fear and said, "O my lady, the
Commander of the Faithful's eunuchs are at the door, Afíf and
Masrúr and Marján[FN#185] and others whom wot I not." When they
heard this they were like to die with fright, but Shams al-Nahar
laughed and said, "Have no fear!" Then quoth she to the damsel,
"Keep answering them whilst we remove hence." And she caused the
doors of the alcove to be closed upon Ali and Abu al-Hasan, and
let down the curtains over the entrance (they being still
within); after which she shut the door of the saloon and went out
by the privy wicket into the flower-garden, where she seated
herself on a couch she had there and made one of the damsels
knead her feet.[FN#186] Then she dismissed the rest of her women
to their rooms and bade the portress admit those who were at the
door; whereupon Masrur entered, he and his company of twenty with
drawn swords. And when they saluted her, she asked, "Wherefore
come ye?"; whereto they answered, "The Commander of the Faithful
saluteth thee. Indeed he is desolated for want of thy sight; he
letteth thee know that this be to him a day of joy and great
gladness and he wisheth to seal his day and complete his pleasure
with thy company at this very hour. So say, wilt go to him or
shall he come to thee?" Upon this she rose and, kissing the
earth, replied, "I hear and I obey the commandment of the Prince
of True Believers!" Then she summoned the women guards of her
household and other slave-damsels, who lost no time in attending
upon her and made a show of obeying the Caliph's orders. And
albeit everything about the place was in readiness, she said to
the eunuchs, "Go to the Commander of the Faithful and tell him
that I await him after a little space, that I may make ready for
him a place with carpets and other matters." So they returned in
haste to the Caliph, whilst Shams al-Nahar, doffing her outer
gear, repaired to her lover, Ali bin Bakkar, and drew him to her
bosom and bade him farewell, whereat he wept sore and said, "O my
lady, this leave-taking will cause the ruin of my very self and
the loss of my very soul; but I pray Allah grant me patience to
support the passion wherewith he hath afflicted me!" Replied she,
"By Allah, none shall suffer perdition save I; for thou wilt fare
forth to the bazar and consort with those that shall divert thee,
and thy life will be sound and thy love hidden forsure; but I
shall fall into trouble and tristesse nor find any to console me,
more by token that I have given the Caliph a tryst, wherein haply
great peril shall betide me by reason of my love for thee and my
longing for thee and my grief at being parted from thee. For with
what tongue shall I sing and with what heart shall I present
myself before the Caliph? and with what speech shall I company
the Commander of the Faithful in his cups? and with what eyes
shall I look upon a place where thou art absent? and with what
taste shall I drink wine of which thou drinkest not?" Quoth Abu
al-Hasan, "Be not troubled but take patience and be not remiss in
entertaining the Commander of the Faithful this night, neither
show him any neglect, but be of good heart." Now at this
juncture, behold, up came a damsel, who said to Shams al-Nahar,
"O my lady, the Caliph's pages are come." So she hastily rose to
her feet and said to the maid, "Take Abu al-Hasan and his friend
and carry them to the upper balcony[FN#187] giving upon the
garden and there leave them till darkness come on; when do thou
contrive to carry them forth." Accordingly the girl led them up
to the balcony and, locking the door upon them both, went her
way. As they sat looking on the garden lo! the Caliph appeared
escorted by near an hundred eunuchs, with drawn swords in hand
and girt about with a score of damsels, as they were moons, all
clad in the richest of raiment and on each one's head was a crown
set with jewels and rubies; while each carried a lighted
flambeau. The Caliph walked in their midst, they encompassing him
about on all sides, and Masrur and Afíf and Wasíf[FN#188] went
before him and he bore himself with a graceful gait. So Shams
al-Nahar and her maidens rose to receive him and, meeting him at
the garden-door, kissed ground between his hands; nor did they
cease to go before him till they brought him to the couch whereon
he sat down, whilst all the waiting-women who were in the garden
and the eunuchs stood before him and there came fair handmaids
and concubines holding in hand lighted candles and perfumes and
incense and instruments of mirth and music. Then the Sovereign
bade the singers sit down, each in her place, and Shams al-Nahar
came up and, seating herself on a stool by the side of the
Caliph's couch, began to converse with him; all this happening
whilst Abu al-Hasan and Ali bin Bakkar looked on and listened,
unseen of the King. Presently the Caliph fell to jesting and
toying with Shams al-Nahar and both were in the highest spirits,
glad and gay, when he bade them throw open the garden pavilion.
So they opened the doors and windows and lighted the tapers till
the place shone in the season of darkness even as the day. Then
the eunuchs removed thither the wine-service and (quoth Abu
al-Hasan) "I saw drinking-vessels and rarities whose like mine
eyes never beheld, vases of gold and silver and all manner of
noble metals and precious stones, such as no power of description
can describe, till indeed it seemed to me I was dreaming, for
excess of amazement at what I saw!" But as for Ali bin Bakkar,
from the moment Shams al-Nahar left him, he lay strown on the
ground for stress of love and desire; and, when he revived, he
fell to gazing upon these things that had not their like and
saying to Abu al-Hasan, "O my brother, I fear lest the Caliph see
us or come to know of our case; but the most of my fear is for
thee. For myself, of a truth I know that I am about to be lost
past recourse, and the cause of my destruction is naught but love
and longing and excess of desire and distraction, and disunion
from my beloved after union with her; but I beseech Allah to
deliver us from this perilous predicament." And they ceased not
to look out of the balcony on the Caliph who was taking his
pleasure, till the banquet was spread before him, when he turned
to one of the damsels and said to her, "O Gharám,[FN#189] let us
hear some of thine enchanting songs." So she took the lute and
tuning it, began singing,

"The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folks are far away, *
     Who yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the
     bay,[FN#190]--
Whose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water
     serve * And eke her her passion, with its heat, their
     bivouac-fire purvey,--
Is not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love, *
     Who deems that I commit a crime in loving him
     alway."[FN#191]

Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses she slipped off the
stool whereon she sat and fell to the earth fainting and became
insensible to the world around her; upon which the damsels came
and lifted her up. And when Ali bin Bakkar saw this from the
balcony he also slipped down senseless, and Abu al-Hasan said,
"Verily Fate hath divided love-desire equally upon you
twain!"[FN#192] As he spoke lo! in came the damsel who had led
them up to the balcony and said to him, "O Abu al-Hasan, arise
thou and thy friend and come down, for of a truth the world hath
waxed strait upon us and I fear lest our case be discovered or
the Caliph become aware of you; unless you descend at once we are
dead ones." Quoth he, "And how shall this youth descend with me
seeing that he hath no strength to rise?" Thereupon the damsel
began sprinkling rose-water on Ali bin Bakkar till he came to his
senses, when Abu al-Hasan lifted him up and the damsel made him
lean upon her. So they went down from the balcony and walked on
awhile till the damsel opened a little iron door, and made the
two friends pass through it, and they came upon a bench by the
Tigris' bank. Thereupon the slave-girl clapped her hands[FN#193]
and there came up a man with a little boat to whom said she,
"Take up these two young men and land them on the opposite side."
So both entered the boat and, as the man rowed off with them and
they left the garden behind them, Ali bin Bakkar looked back
towards the Caliph's palace and the pavilion and the grounds; and
bade them farewell with these two couplets,

     "I offered this weak hand as last farewell, *
          While to heart-burning fire that hand is guided:
     O let not this end union! Let not this *
          Be last provision for long road provided!"

Thereupon the damsel said to the boatman, "Make haste with them
both." So he plied his oars deftly (the slave-girl being still
with them);--And Shahrazad perceived the dawning day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the boatman
rowed them towards the other bank till they reached it and
landed, whereupon she took leave of them, saying, "It were my
wish not to abandon you, but I can go no farther than this." Then
she turned back, whilst Ali bin Bakkar lay prostrate on the
ground before Abu al-Hasan and by no manner of means could he
rise, till his friend said to him, "Indeed this place is not sure
and I fear lest we lose our lives in this very spot, by reason of
the lewd fellows who infest it and highwaymen and men of
lawlessness." Upon this Ali bin Bakkar arose and walked a little
but could not continue walking. Now Abu al-Hasan had friends in
that quarter; so he made search for one of them, in whom he
trusted, and who was of his intimates, and knocked at the door.
The man came out quickly and seeing them, bade them welcome and
brought them into his house, where he seated them and talked with
them and asked them whence they came. Quoth Abu al-Hasan, "We
came out but now, being obliged thereto by a person with whom I
had dealings and who hath in his hands dirhams of mine. And it
reached me that he designed to flee into foreign parts with my
monies; so I fared forth to-night in quest of him, taking with me
for company this youth, Ali bin Bakkar; but, when we came hoping
to see the debtor, he hid from us and we could get no sight of
him. Accordingly we turned back, empty-handed without a doit, but
it was irksome to us to return home at this hour of the night; so
weeting not whither to go, we came to thee, well knowing thy
kindness and wonted courtesy." "Ye are welcome and well come!"
answered the host, and studied to do them honour; so the twain
abode with him the rest of their night and as soon as the
daylight dawned, they left him and made their way back without
aught of delay to the city. When they came to the house of Abu
al-Hasan, he conjured his comrade to enter; so they went in and
lying down on the bed, slept awhile. As soon as they awoke, Abu
al-Hasan bade his servants spread the house with rich carpets,
saying in his mind, "Needs must I divert this youth and distract
him from thinking of his affliction, for I know his case better
than another." Then he called for water for Ali bin Bakkar who,
when it was brought, rose up from his bed and making his
ablutions, prayed the obligatory prayers which he had omitted for
the past day and night[FN#194]; after which he sat down and began
to solace himself by talking with his friend. When Abu al-Hasan
saw this, he turned to him and said, "O my lord, it were fitter
for thy case that thou abide with me this night, so thy breast
may be broadened and the distress of love-longing that is upon
thee be dispelled and thou make merry with us, so haply the fire
of thy heart may thus be quenched." Ali replied, "O my brother,
do what seemeth good to thee; for I may not on any wise escape
from what calamity hath befallen me; so act as thou wilt."
Accordingly, Abu al-Hasan arose and bade his servants summon some
of the choicest of his friends and sent for singers and musicians
who came; and meanwhile he made ready meat and drink for them; so
they sat eating and drinking and making merry through the rest of
the day till nightfall. Then they lit the candles, and the cups
of friendship and good fellowship went round amongst them and the
time passed pleasantly with them. Presently, a singing-woman took
the lute and began singing,

"I've been shot by Fortune, and shaft of eye *
     Down struck me and parted from fondest friend:
Time has proved him foe and my patience failed, *
     Yet I ever expected it thus would end."

When Ali bin Bakkar heard her words, he fell to the earth in a
swoon and ceased not lying in his fainting fit till day-break;
and Abu al-Hasan despaired of him. But, with the dawning, he came
to himself and sought to go home; nor could his friend hinder
him, for fear of the issue of his affair. So he made his servants
bring a she-mule and, mounting Ali thereon, carried him to his
lodgings, he and one of his men. When he was safe at home, Abu
al-Hasan thanked Allah for his deliverance from that sore peril
and sat awhile with him, comforting him; but Ali could not
contain himself, for the violence of his love and longing. So Abu
al-Hasan rose to take leave of him and return to his own
place.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Abu
al-Hasan rose to take leave of him, Ali son of Bakkar exclaimed,
"O my brother, leave me not without news." "I hear and obey,"
replied the other; and forthwith went away and, repairing to his
shop, opened it and sat there all day, expecting news of Shams
al-Nahar. But none came. He passed the night in his own house
and, when dawned the day, he walked to Ali bin Bakkar's lodging
and went in and found him thrown on his bed, with his friends
about him and physicians around him prescribing something or
other, and the doctors feeling his pulse. When he saw Abu
al-Hasan enter he smiled, and the visitor, after saluting him,
enquired how he did and sat with him till the folk withdrew, when
he said to him, "What plight is this?" Quoth Ali bin Bakkar, "It
was bruited abroad that I was ill and my comrades heard the
report; and I have no strength to rise and walk so as to give him
the lie who noised abroad my sickness, but continue lying strown
here as thou seest. So my friends came to visit me; say, however,
O my brother, hast thou seen the slave-girl or heard any news of
her?" He replied, "I have not seen her, since the day we parted
from her on Tigris' bank;" and he presently added, "O my brother,
beware thou of scandal and leave this weeping." Rejoined Ali, "O
my brother, indeed, I have no control over myself;" and he sighed
and began reciting,

"She gives her woman's hand a force that fails the hand of me, *
     And with red dye on wrist she gars my patience fail and
     flee:
And for her hand she fears so sore what shafts her eyes
     discharge, * She's fain to clothe and guard her hand with
     mail-ring panoply:[FN#195]
The leach in ignorance felt my pulse the while to him I cried, *
     'Sick is my heart, so quit my hand which hath no malady:'
Quoth she to that fair nightly vision favoured me and fled, *
     'By Allah picture him nor add nor 'bate in least degree!'
Replied the Dream, 'I leave him though he die of thirst,'
     I cry, * 'Stand off from water-pit and say why this
     persistency.'
Rained tear-pearls her Narcissus-eyes, and rose on cheek belit *
     She made my sherbet, and the lote with bits of hail she
     bit."[FN#196]

And when his recital was ended he said, "O Abu al-Hasan, I am
smitten with an affliction from which I deemed myself in perfect
surety, and there is no greater ease for me than death." Replied
he, "Be patient, haply Allah will heal thee!" Then he went out
from him and repairing to his shop opened it, nor had he sat
long, when suddenly up came the handmaid who saluted him. He
returned her salam and looking at her, saw that her heart was
palpitating and that she was in sore trouble and showed signs of
great affliction: so he said to her, "Thou art welcome and well
come! How is it with Shams al-Nahar?" She answered, "I will
presently tell thee, but first let me know how doth Ali bin
Bakkar." So he told her all that had passed and how his case
stood, whereat she grieved and sighed and lamented and marvelled
at his condition. Then said she, "My lady's case is still
stranger than this; for when you went away and fared homewards, I
turned back, my heart beating hard on your account and hardly
crediting your escape. On entering I found her lying prostrate in
the pavilion, speaking not nor answering any, whilst the
Commander of the Faithful sat by her head not knowing what ailed
her and finding none who could make known to him aught of her
ailment. She ceased not from her swoon till midnight, when she
recovered and the Prince of the Faithful said to her, 'What harm
hath happened to thee, O Shams al-Nahar, and what hath befallen
thee this night?' Now when she heard the Caliph's words she
kissed his feet and said, 'Allah make me thy ransom, O Prince of
True Believers! Verily a sourness of stomach lighted a fire in my
body, so that I lost my senses for excess of pain, and I know no
more of my condition.' Asked the Caliph, 'What hast thou eaten
to-day?'; and she answered, 'I broke my fast on something I had
never tasted before.' Then she feigned to be recovered and
calling for a something of wine, drank it, and begged the
Sovereign to resume his diversion. So he sat down again on his
couch in the pavilion and the sitting was resumed, but when she
saw me, she asked me how you fared. I told her what I had done
with you both and repeated to her the verses which Ali bin Bakkar
had composed at parting-tide, whereat she wept secretly, but
presently held her peace. After awhile, the Commander of the
Faithful ordered a damsel to sing, and she began reciting,

     'Life has no sweet for me since forth ye fared; *
          Would Heaven I wot how fare ye who forsake:
     'Twere only fit my tears were tears of blood, *
          Since you are weeping for mine absence sake.'

But when my lady heard this verse she fell back on the sofa in a
swoon,"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
slave-girl continued to Abu al-Hasan, "But when my lady heard
this verse, she fell back on the sofa in a swoon, and I seized
her hand and sprinkled rose-water on her face, till she revived,
when I said to her, 'O my lady, expose not thyself and all thy
palace containeth. By the life of thy beloved, be thou patient!'
She replied, 'Can aught befal me worse than death which indeed I
seek, for by Allah, my ease is therein?' Whilst we were thus
talking, another damsel sang these words of the poet,

     'Quoth they, 'Maybe that Patience lend thee ease!' *
          Quoth I, 'Since fared he where is Patience' place?
     Covenant he made 'twixt me and him, to cut *
          The cords of Patience at our last embrace!'[FN#197]

And as soon as she had finished her verse Shams al-Nahar swooned
away once more, which when the Caliph saw, he came to her in
haste and commanded the wine to be removed and each damsel to
return to her chamber. He abode with her the rest of the night,
and when dawned the day, he sent for chirurgeons and leaches and
bade them medicine her, knowing not that her sickness arose from
love and longing. I tarried with her till I deemed her in a way
of recovery, and this is what kept me from thee. I have now left
her with a number of her body-women, who were greatly concerned
for her, when she bade me go to you two and bring her news of Ali
bin Bakkar and return to her with the tidings." When Abu al-Hasan
heard her story, he marvelled and said, "By Allah, I have
acquainted thee with his whole case; so now return to thy
mistress; and salute her for me and diligently exhort her to have
patience and say to her, 'Keep thy secret!'; and tell her that I
know all her case which is indeed hard and one which calleth for
nice conduct." She thanked him and taking leave of him, returned
to her mistress. So far concerning her; but as regards Abu
al-Hasan, he ceased not to abide in his shop till the end of the
day, when he arose and shut it and locked it and betaking himself
to Ali bin Bakkar's house knocked at the door. One of the
servants came out and admitted him; and when Ali saw him, he
smiled and congratulated himself on his coming, saying, "O Abu
al-Hasan, thou hast desolated me by thine absence this day; for
indeed my soul is pledged to thee during the rest of my time."
Answered the other, "Leave this talk! Were thy healing at the
price of my hand, I would cut it off ere thou couldst ask me;
and, could I ransom thee with my life, I had already laid it down
for thee. Now this very day, Shams al-Nahar's handmaid hath been
with me and told me that what hindered her coming ere this was
the Caliph's sojourn with her mistress; and she acquainted me
with everything which had betided her." And he went on to repeat
to him all that the girl had told him of Shams al-Nahar; at which
Ali bin Bakkar lamented sore and wept and said to him, "Allah
upon thee, O my brother, help me in this affliction and teach me
what course I shall take. Moreover, I beg thee of thy grace to
abide with me this night, that I may have the solace of thy
society." Abu al-Hasan agreed to this request, replying that he
would readily night there; so they talked together till even-tide
darkened, when Ali bin Bakkar groaned aloud and lamented and wept
copious tears, reciting these couplets,

     "Thine image in these eyne, a-lip thy name, *
          My heart thy home; how couldst thou disappear?
     How sore I grieve for life which comes to end, *
          Nor see I boon of union far or near."

And these the words of another,

"She split my casque of courage with eye-swords that sorely
     smite; * She pierced my patience' ring-mail with her shape
     like cane-spear light:
Patched by the musky mole on cheek was to our sight displayed *
     Camphor set round with ambergris, light dawning through the
     night.[FN#198]
Her soul was sorrowed and she bit carnelion stone with pearls *
     Whose unions in a sugared tank ever to lurk unite:[FN#199]
Restless she sighed and smote with palm the snows that clothe her
     breast, * And left a mark whereon I looked and ne'er beheld
     such sight,
Pens, fashioned of her coral nails with ambergris for ink, *
     Five lines on crystal page of breast did cruelly indite:
O swordsmen armed with trusty steel! I bid you all beware *
     When she on you bends deadly glance which fascinates the
     sprite:
And guard thyself, O thou of spear! whenas she draweth near *
     To tilt with slender quivering shape, likest the nut-brown
     spear."

And when Ali bin Bakkar ended his verse, he cried out with a
great cry and fell down in a fit. Abu al-Hasan thought that his
soul had fled his body and he ceased not from his swoon till day-
break, when he came to himself and talked with his friend, who
continued to sit with him till the forenoon. Then he left him and
repaired to his shop; and hardly had he opened it, when lo! the
damsel came and stood by his side. As soon as he saw her, she
made him a sign of salutation which he returned; and she
delivered to him the greeting message of her mistress and asked,
"How doth Ali bin Bakkar?" Answered he, "O handmaid of good, ask
me not of his case nor what he suffereth for excess of
love-longing; he sleepeth not by night neither resteth he by day;
wakefulness wasteth him and care hath conquered him and his
condition is a consternation to his friend." Quoth she, "My lady
saluteth thee and him, and she hath written him a letter, for
indeed she is in worse case than he; and she entrusted the same
to me, saying, 'Do not return save with the answer; and do thou
obey my bidding.' Here now is the letter, so say, wilt thou wend
with me to him that we may get his reply?" "I hear and obey,"
answered Abu al-Hasan, and locking his shop and taking with him
the girl he went, by a way different from that whereby he came,
to Ali bin Bakkar's house, where he left her standing at the door
and walked in.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu
al-Hasan went with the girl to the house of Ali son of Bakkar,
where he left her standing at the door and walked in to his great
joy. And Abu al-Hasan said to him, "The reason of my coming is
that such an one hath sent his handmaid to thee with a letter,
containing his greeting to thee and mentioning therein that the
cause of his not coming to thee was a matter that hath betided
him. The girl standeth even now at the door: shall she have leave
to enter?"; and he signed to him that it was Shams al-Nahar's
slave-girl. Ali understood his signal and answered, "Bring her
in," and when he saw her, he shook for joy and signed to her,
"How doth thy lord?; Allah grant him health and healing!" "He is
well," answered she and pulling out the letter gave it to him. He
took it and kissing it, opened and read it; after which he handed
it to Abu al-Hasan, who found these verses written therein,

     "This messenger shall give my news to thee; *
          Patience what while my sight thou canst not see:
     A lover leav'st in love's insanity, *
          Whose eyne abide on wake incessantly:
     I suffer patience-pangs in woes that none *
          Of men can medicine;--such my destiny!
     Keep cool thine eyes; ne'er shall my heart forget, *
          Nor without dream of thee one day shall be.
     Look what befel thy wasted frame, and thence *
          Argue what I am doomed for love to dree!

"And afterwards[FN#200]: Without fingers[FN#201] I have written
to thee, and without tongue I have spoken to thee * to resume my
case, I have an eye wherefrom sleeplessness departeth not * and a
heart whence sorrowful thought stirreth not * It is with me as
though health I had never known * nor in sadness ever ceased to
wone * nor spent an hour in pleasant place * but it is as if I
were made up of pine and of the pain of passion and chagrin *
Sickness unceasingly troubleth * and my yearning ever redoubleth
* desire still groweth * and longing in my heart still gloweth *
I pray Allah to hasten our union * and dispel of my mind the
confusion * And I would fain thou favour me * with some words of
thine * that I may cheer my heart in pain and repine * Moreover,
I would have thee put on a patience lief, until Allah vouchsafe
relief * And His peace be with thee."[FN#202] When Ali bin Bakkar
had read this letter he said in weak accents and feeble voice,
"With what hand shall I write and with what tongue shall I make
moan and lament? Indeed she addeth sickness to my sickness and
draweth death upon my death!" Then he sat up and taking in hand
ink-case and paper, wrote the following reply, "In the name of
Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate![FN#203] Thy letter
hath reached me, O my lady, and hath given ease to a sprite worn
out with passion and love-longing, and hath brought healing to a
wounded heart cankered with languishment and sickness; for indeed
I am become even as saith the poet,

     'Straitened bosom; reveries dispread; *
          Slumberless eyelids; body wearied;
     Patience cut short; disunion longsomest; *
          Reason deranged and heart whose life is fled!'

And know that complaining is unavailing; but it easeth him whom
love-longing disordereth and separation destroyeth and, with
repeating, 'Union,' I keep myself comforted and how fine is the
saying of the poet who said,

     'Did not in love-plight joys and sorrows meet, *
          How would the message or the writ be sweet?'"

When he had made an end of this letter, he handed it to Abu
al-Hasan, saying, "Read it and give it to the damsel." So he took
it and read it and its words stirred his soul and its meaning
wounded his vitals. Then he committed it to the girl, and when
she took it Ali bin Bakkar said to her, "Salute thy lady for me
and acquaint her with my love and longing and how passion is
blended with my flesh and my bones; and say to her that in very
deed I need a woman who shall snatch me from the sea of
destruction and save me from this dilemma; for of a truth Fortune
oppresseth me with her vicissitudes; and is there any helper to
free me from her turpitudes?" And he wept and the damsel wept for
his weeping. Then she took leave of him and went forth and Abu
al-Hasan went out with her and farewelled her. So she ganged her
gait and he returned to his shop, which he opened and sat down
there, as was his wont;--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Fifty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Abu
al-Hasan farewelled the slave-girl and returned to his shop which
he opened and sat down there according to his custom; but as he
tarried, he found his heart oppressed and his breast straitened,
and he was perplexed about his case. So he ceased not from
melancholy the rest of that day and night, and on the morrow he
betook himself to Ali bin Bakkar, with whom he sat till the folk
withdrew, when he asked him how he did. Ali began to complain of
desire and to descant upon the longing and distraction which
possessed him, and repeated these words of the poet.

     "Men have 'plained of pining before my time, *
          Live and dead by parting been terrified:
     But such feelings as those which my ribs immure *
          I have never heard of, nor ever espied."

And these of another poet,

     "I have borne for thy love what never bore *
          For his fair, Kays the 'Daft one'[FN#204] hight of old:
     Yet I chase not the wildlings of wold and wild *
          Like Kays, for madness is manifold."

Thereupon quoth Abu al-Hasan, "Never did I see or hear of one
like unto thee in thy love! When thou sufferest all this
transport and sickness and trouble being enamoured of one who
returneth thy passion, how would it be with thee if she whom thou
lovest were contrary and contumelious, and thy case were
discovered through her perfidy?" "And Ali the son of Bakkar"
(says Abu al-Hasan) "was pleased with my words and he relied upon
them and he thanked me for what I had said and done. I had a
friend" (continued Abu al-Hasan), "to whom I discovered my affair
and that of Ali and who knew that we were intimates; but none
other than he was acquainted with what was betwixt us. He was
wont to come to me and enquire how Ali did and after a little, he
began to ask me about the damsel; but I fenced him off, saying,
'She invited him to her and there was between him and her as much
as can possibly take place, and this is the end of their affair;
but I have devised me a plan and an idea which I would submit to
thee.'" Asked his friend, "And what is that?" Answered Abu
al-Hasan, "I am a person well known to have much dealing among
men and women, and I fear, O my brother, lest the affair of these
twain come to light and this lead to my death and the seizure of
my goods and the rending of my repute and that of my family.
Wherefore I have resolved to get together my monies and make
ready forthright and repair to the city of Bassorah and there
abide, till I see what cometh of their case, that none may know
of me; for love hath lorded over both and correspondence passeth
between them. At this present their go-between and confidante is
a slave-girl who hath till now kept their counsel, but I fear
lest haply anxiety get the better of her and she discover their
secret to some one and the matter, being bruited abroad, might
bring me to great grief and prove the cause of my ruin; for I
have no excuse to offer my accusers." Rejoined his friend, "Thou
hast acquainted me with a parlous affair, from the like of which
the wise and understanding will shrink with fear. Allah avert
from thee the evil thou dreadest with such dread and save thee
from the consequences thou apprehendest! Assuredly thy recking is
aright." So Abu al-Hasan returned to his place and began ordering
his affairs and preparing for his travel; nor had three days
passed ere he made an end of his business and fared forth
Bassorah-wards. His friend came to visit him three days after but
finding him not, asked of him from the neighbours who answered,
"He set out for Bassorah three days ago, for he had dealings with
its merchants and he is gone thither to collect monies from his
debtors; but he will soon return." The young man was confounded
at the news and knew not whither to wend; and he said in his
mind, "Would I had not parted from Abu al-Hasan!" Then he
bethought him of some plan whereby he should gain access to Ali
bin Bakkar; so he went to his lodging, and said to one of his
servants, "Ask leave for me of thy lord that I may go in and
salute him." The servant entered and told his master and
presently returning, invited the man to walk in. So he entered
and found Ali bin Bakkar thrown back on the pillow and saluted
him. Ali returned his greeting and bade him welcome; whereupon
the young man began to excuse himself for having held aloof from
him all that while and added, "O my lord, between Abu al-Hasan
and myself there was close friendship, so that I used to trust
him with my secrets and could not sever myself from him an hour.
Now it so chanced that I was absent three days' space on certain
business with a company of my friends; and, when I came back and
went to him, I found his shop locked up; so I asked the
neighbours about him and they replied, 'He is gone to Bassorah.'
Now I know he had no surer friend than thou; so, by Allah, tell
me what thou knowest of him." When Ali bin Bakkar heard this, his
colour changed and he was troubled and answered, "I never heard
till this day of his departure and, if the case be as thou
sayest, weariness is come upon me." And he began repeating,

     "For joys that are no more I wont to weep, *
          While friends and lovers stood by me unscattered;
     This day when disunited me and them *
          Fortune, I weep lost loves and friendship shattered."

Then he hung his head ground-wards in thought awhile and
presently raising it and looking to one of his servants, said,
"Go to Abu al-Hasan's house and enquire anent him whether he be
at home or journeying abroad. If they say, 'He is abroad'; ask
whither he be gone." The servant went out and returning after a
while said to his master, "When I asked for Abu al-Hasan, his
people told me that he was gone on a journey to Bassorah; but I
saw a damsel standing at the door who, knowing me by sight,
though I knew her not, said to me, 'Art thou not servant to Ali
bin Bakkar?' 'Even so,' answered I; and she rejoined, 'I bear a
message for him from one who is the dearest of all folk to him.'
So she came with me and she is now standing at the door." Quoth
Ali bin Bakkar, "Bring her in." The servant went out to her and
brought her in, and the man who was with Ali looked at her and
found her pretty. Then she advanced to the son of Bakkar and
saluted him.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say,

        When it was the One Hundred and Sixtieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
slave-girl came in to Ali bin Bakkar, she advanced to him and
saluted him and spake with him secretly; and from time to time
during the dialogue he exclaimed with an oath and swore that he
had not talked and tattled of it. Then she took leave of him and
went away. Now Abu al-Hasan's friend was a jeweller,[FN#205] and
when she was gone, he found a place for speech and said to Ali
bin Bakkar, "Doubtless and assuredly the Caliph's household have
some demand upon thee or thou hast dealings therewith?" "Who told
thee of this?" asked Ali; and the jeweller answered, "I know it
by yonder damsel who is Shams al-Nahar's slave-girl; for she came
to me a while since with a note wherein was written that she
wanted a necklace of jewels; and I sent her a costly collar." But
when Ali bin Bakkar heard this, he was greatly troubled, so that
the jeweller feared to see him give up the ghost, yet after a
while he recovered himself and said, "O my brother, I conjure
thee by Allah to tell me truly how thou knowest her." Replied he,
"Do not press this question upon me;" and Ali rejoined, "Indeed,
I will not turn from thee till thou tell me the whole truth."
Quoth the jeweller, "I will tell thee all, on condition that thou
distrust me not, and that my words cause thee no restraint; nor
will I conceal aught from thee by way of secret but will discover
to thee the truth of the affair, provided that thou acquaint me
with the true state of thy case and the cause of thy sickness."
Then he told him all that had passed from first to last between
Abu al-Hasan and himself, adding, "I acted thus only out of
friendship for thee and of my desire to serve thee;" and assured
him that he would keep his secret and venture life and good in
his service. So Ali in turn told him his story and added, "By
Allah, O my brother, naught moved me to keep my case secret from
thee and from others but my fear lest folk should lift the veils
of protection from certain persons." Rejoined the jeweller, "And
I desired not to foregather with thee but of the great affection
I bear thee and my zeal for thee in every case, and my compassion
for the anguish thy heart endureth from severance. Haply I may be
a comforter to thee in the room of my friend, Abu al-Hasan,
during the length of his absence: so be thou of good cheer and
keep thine eyes cool and clear." Thereupon Ali thanked him and
repeated these couplets,

     "An say I, 'Patient I can bear his faring,' *
          My tears and sighings give my say the lie;
     How can I hide these tears that course adown *
          This plain, my cheek, for friend too fain to fly?"

Then he was silent awhile, and presently said to the jeweller
"Knowest thou what secret the girl whispered to me?" Answered he,
"Not I, by Allah, O my lord!" Quoth Ali, "She fancied that I
directed Abu al-Hasan to go to Bassorah and that I had devised
this device to put a stop to our correspondence and consorting. I
swore to her that this was on nowise so; but she would not credit
me and went away to her mistress, persisting in her injurious
suspicions; for she inclined to Abu al-Hasan and gave ear to his
word." Answered the young jeweller, "O my brother, I understood
as much from the girl's manner; but I will win for thee thy wish,
Inshallah!" Rejoined Ali bin Bakkar, "Who can be with me in this
and how wilt thou do with her, when she shies and flies like a
wildling of the wold?" Cried the jeweller "By Allah, needs must I
do my utmost to help thee and contrive to scrape acquaintance
with her without exposure or mischief!" Then he asked leave to
depart and Ali bin Bakkar said, "O my brother, mind thou keep my
counsel;" and he looked at him and wept. The jeweller bade him
good-bye and fared forth.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
jeweller bade him good-bye and fared forth not knowing what he
should do to win for him his wishes; and he ceased not walking,
while over-musing the matter, till he spied a letter lying in the
road. He took it up and looked at its direction and
superscription, then read it and behold, it ran:--"From the least
worthy of lovers to the most worthy of beloveds." So he opened it
and found these words written therein,

"A messenger from thee came bringing union-hope, *
     But that he erred somehow with me the thought prevailed;
So I rejoiced not; rather grew my grief still more; *
     Weeting my messenger of wits and wit had failed.

"But afterwards: Know, O my lord! that I ken not the reason why
our correspondence between thee and me hath been broken off: but,
if the cruelty arise from thy part, I will requite it with
fidelity, and if thy love have departed, I will remain constant
to my love of the parted, for I am with thee even as says the
poet,

'Be proud; I'll crouch! Bully; I'll bear! Despise; I'll pray! *
     Go; I will come! Speak; I will hear! Bid; I'll obey!'"

As he was reading lo! up came the slave-girl, looking right and
left, and seeing the paper in the jeweller's hand, said to him,
"O my master, this letter is one I let fall." He made her no
answer, but walked on, and she walked behind him, till he came to
his house, when he entered and she after him, saying, "O my
master, give me back this letter, for it fell from me." Thereon
he turned to her and said, "O handmaid of good, fear not neither
grieve, for verily Allah the Protector loveth those who protect;
but tell me in truthful way thy case, as I am one who keepeth
counsel. I conjure thee by an oath not to hide from me aught of
thy lady's affairs; for haply Allah shall help me to further her
wishes and make easy by my hand that which is hard." When the
slave-girl heard these words she said, "O my lord, indeed a
secret is not lost whereof thou art the secretist; nor shall any
affair come to naught for which thou strivest. Know that my heart
inclineth to thee and would interest thee with my tidings, but do
thou give me the letter." Then she told him the whole story,
adding, "Allah is witness to whatso I say." Quoth he, "Thou hast
spoken truly, for I am acquainted with the root of the matter."
Then he told her his tale of Ali bin Bakkar and how he had
learned his state of mind; and related to her all that had passed
from first to last, whereat she rejoiced; and they two agreed
that she should take the letter and carry it to Ali and return
and acquaint the jeweller with all that happened. So he gave her
the letter and she took it and sealed it up as it was before,
saying, "My mistress Shams al-Nahar gave it to me sealed; and
when he hath read it and given me its reply, I will bring it to
thee." Then she took leave and repaired to Ali bin Bakkar, whom
she found waiting, and gave him the letter. He read it and
writing a paper by way of reply, gave it to her; and she carried
it to the jeweller, who tore asunder the seal[FN#206] and read it
and found written therein these two couplets,

"The messenger, who kept our commerce hid, *
     Hath failed, and showeth wrath without disguise;[FN#207]
Choose one more leal from your many friends *
     Who, truth approving, disapproves of lies.

"To proceed: Verily, I have not entered upon perfidy * nor have I
abandoned fidelity * I have not used cruelty * neither have I out
off lealty * no covenant hath been broken by me * nor hath
love-tie been severed by me * I have not parted from penitence *
nor have I found aught but misery and ruin after severance * I
know nothing of that thou avouchest * nor do I love aught but
that which thou lovest * By Him who knoweth the secret of hidden
things none discover *I have no desire save union with my lover *
and my one business is my passion to conceal * albeit with sore
sickness I ail. * This is the exposition of my case and now all
hail!" When the jeweller read this letter and learnt its contents
he wept with sore weeping, and the slave-girl said to him, "Leave
not this place till I return to thee; for he suspecteth me of
such and such things, in which he is excusable; so it is my
desire to bring about a meeting between thee and my mistress,
Shams al-Nahar, howsoever I may trick you to it. For the present
I left her prostrate, awaiting my return with the reply." Then
she went away and the jeweller passed the night with a troubled
mind. And when day dawned he prayed his dawn-prayer and sat
expecting the girl's coming; and behold, she came in to him
rejoicing with much joy and he asked her, "What news, O damsel?"
She answered, "After leaving thee I went to my mistress and gave
her the letter written by Ali bin Bakkar; and, when she read it
and understood it, she was troubled and confounded; but I said to
her, 'O my lady, have no fear of your affair being frustrated by
Abu al-Hasan's disappearance, for I have found one to take his
place, better than he and more of worth and a good man to keep
secrets.' Then I told her what was between thyself and Abu
al-Hasan and how thou camest by his confidence and that of Ali
bin Bakkar and how that note was dropped and thou camest by it;
and I also showed her how we arranged matters betwixt me and
thee." The jeweller marvelled with much wonder, when she resumed,
"And now my mistress would hear whatso thou sayest, that she may
be assured by thy speech of the covenants between thee and him;
so get thee ready to go with me to her forthwith." When the
jeweller heard the slave-girl's words, he saw that the proposed
affair was grave and a great peril to brave, not lightly to be
undertaken or suddenly entered upon, and he said to her, "O my
sister, verily, I am of the ordinary and not like unto Abu
al-Hasan; for he being of high rank and of well-known repute, was
wont to frequent the Caliph's household, because of their need of
his merchandise. As for me, he used to talk with me and I
trembled before him the while. So, if thy mistress would speak
with me, our meeting must be in some place other than the
Caliph's palace and far from the abode of the Commander of the
Faithful; for my common sense will not let me consent to what
thou proposest." On this wise he refused to go with her and she
went on to say that she would be surety for his safety, adding,
"Take heart and fear no harm!" and pressed him to courage till he
consented to accompany her; withal, his legs bent and shivered
and his hands quivered and he exclaimed, "Allah forbid that I
should go with thee! Indeed, I have not strength to do this
thing!" Replied she, "Hearten thy heart, if it be hard for thee
to go to the Caliph's palace and thou canst not muster up courage
to accompany me, I will make her come to thee; so budge not from
thy place till I return to thee with her." Then the slave-girl
went away and was absent for a while, but a short while, after
which she returned to the jeweller and said to him, "Take thou
care that there be with thee none save thyself, neither man-slave
nor girl-slave." Quoth he, "I have but a negress, who is in years
and who waiteth on me."[FN#208] So she arose and locked the door
between his negress and the jeweller and sent his man-servants
out of the place; after which she fared forth and presently
returned, followed by a lady who, entering the house, filled it
with the sweet scent of her perfumes. When the jeweller saw her,
he sprang up and set her a couch and a cushion; and she sat down
while he seated himself before her. She abode awhile without
speaking till she had rested herself, when she unveiled her face
and it seemed to the jeweller's fancy as if the sun had risen in
his home. Then she asked her slave-girl, "Is this the man of whom
thou spakest to me?" "Yes," answered she; whereupon the lady
turned to the jeweller and said to him, "How is it with thee?"
Replied he, "Right well! I pray Allah for thy preservation and
that of the Commander of the Faithful." Quoth she, "Thou hast
moved us to come to thee and possess thee with what we hold
secret." Then she questioned him of his household and family; and
he disclosed to her all his circumstance and his condition and
said to her, "I have a house other than this; and I have set it
apart for gathering together my friends and brethren; and there
is none there save the old negress, of whom I spoke to thy
handmaid." She asked him on what wise he came first to know how
the affair began and the matter of Abu al-Hasan and the cause of
his way-faring: accordingly he told her all he knew and how he
had advised the journey. Thereupon she bewailed the loss of Abu
al-Hasan and said to the jeweller, "Know, O such an one,[FN#209]
that men's souls are active in their lusts and that men are still
men; and that deeds are not done without words nor is end ever
reached without endeavour. Rest is won only by work."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shams
al-Nahar thus addressed the jeweller, "Rest is gained only by
work and success is gendered only by help of the generous. Now I
have acquainted thee with our affair and it is in thy hand to
expose us or to shield us; I say no more, because thy generosity
requireth naught. Thou knowest that this my handmaiden keepeth my
counsel and therefore occupieth high place in my favour; and I
have selected her to transact my affairs of importance. So let
none be worthier in thy sight than she and acquaint her with
thine affair; and be of good cheer, for on her account thou art
safe from all fear, and there is no place shut upon thee but she
shall open it to thee. She shall bring thee my messages to Ali
bin Bakkar and thou shalt be our intermediary." So saying, she
rose, scarcely able to rise, and fared forth, the jeweller faring
before her to the door of her house, after which he returned and
sat down again in his place, having seen of her beauty and heard
of her speech what dazzled him and dazed his wit, and having
witnessed of her grace and courtesy what bewitched his sprite. He
sat musing on her perfections till his mind waxed tranquil, when
he called for food and ate enough to keep soul and body together.
Then he changed his clothes and went out; and, repairing to the
house of the youth Ali bin Bakkar, knocked at the door. The
servants hastened to admit him and walked before him till they
had brought him to their master, whom he found strown upon his
bed. Now when he saw the jeweller, he said to him, "Thou hast
tarried long from me, and that hath heaped care upon my care."
Then he dismissed his servants and bade the doors be shut; after
which he said to the jeweller, "By Allah, O my brother, I have
not closed my eyes since the day I saw thee last; for the
slave-girl came to me yesterday with a sealed letter from her
mistress Shams al-Nahar;" and went on to tell him all that had
passed with her, adding, "By the Lord, I am indeed perplexed
concerning mine affair and my patience faileth me: for Abu
al-Hasan was a comforter who cheered me because he knew the
slave-girl." When the jeweller heard his words, he laughed; and
Ali said, "Why dost thou laugh at my words, thou on whose coming
I congratulated myself and to whom I looked for provision against
the shifts of fortune?" Then he sighed and wept and repeated
these couplets,[FN#210]

     "Full many laugh at tears they see me shed *
          Who had shed tears an bore they what I bore;
     None feeleth pity for th' afflicted's woe, *
          Save one as anxious and in woe galore:
     My passion, yearning, sighing, thought, repine *
          Are for me cornered in my heart's deep core:
     He made a home there which he never quits, *
          Yet rare our meetings, not as heretofore:
     No friend to stablish in his place I see; *
          No intimate but only he and --he."

Now when the jeweller heard these lines and understood their
significance, he wept also and told him all that had passed
betwixt himself and the slave-girl and her mistress since he left
him. And Ali bin Bakkar gave ear to his speech, and at every word
he heard his colour shifted from white to red and his body grew
now stronger and then weaker till the tale came to an end, when
he wept and said, "O my brother, I am a lost man in any case:
would mine end were nigh, that I might be at rest from all this!
But I beg thee, of thy favour, to be my helper and comforter in
all my affairs till Allah fulfil whatso be His will; and I will
not gainsay thee with a single word." Quoth the jeweller,
"Nothing will quench thy fire save union with her whom thou
lovest; and the meeting must be in other than this perilous
place. Better it were in a house of mine where the girl and her
mistress met me; which place she chose for herself, to the intent
that ye twain may there meet and complain each to other of what
you have suffered from the pangs of love." Quoth Ali bin Bakkar,
"O good Sir, do as thou wilt and with Allah be thy reward!; and
what thou deemest is right do it forthright: but be not long in
doing it, lest I perish of this anguish." "So I abode with him
(said the jeweller) that night conversing with him till the
morning morrowed,"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
jeweller continued:--"So I abode with him that night conversing
with him till the morning morrowed, when I prayed the
dawn-prayers and, going out from him, returned to my house.
Hardly had I settled down when the damsel came up and saluted me;
and I returned her salutation and told her what had passed
between myself and Ali bin Bakkar, and she said, 'Know that the
Caliph hath left us and there is no one in our place and it is
safer for us and better.' Replied I, 'Sooth thou sayest; yet is
it not like my other house which is both fitter and surer for
us;' and the slave-girl rejoined 'Be it as thou seest fit. I am
now going to my lady and will tell her what thou sayest and
acquaint her with all thou hast mentioned.' So she went away and
sought her mistress and laid the project before her, and
presently returned and said to me, 'It is to be as thou sayest:
so make us ready the place and expect us.' Then she took out of
her breast-pocket a purse of dinars and gave this message, 'My
lady saluteth thee and saith to thee, 'Take this and provide
therewith what the case requireth.' But I swore that I would
accept naught of it; so she took the purse and returning to her
mistress, told her, 'He would not receive the money, but gave it
back to me.' 'No matter,' answered Shams al-Nahar. As soon as the
slave-girl was gone" (continued the jeweller), "I arose and
betook myself to my other house and transported thither all that
was needful, by way of vessels and furniture and rich carpets;
and I did not forget china vases and cups of glass and gold and
silver; and I made ready meat and drink required for the
occasion. When the damsel came and saw what I had done, it
pleased her and she bade me fetch Ali bin Bakkar; but I said,
'None shall bring him save thou.' Accordingly she went to him and
brought him back perfectly dressed and looking his best. I met
him and greeted him and then seated him upon a divan befitting
his condition, and set before him sweet-scented flowers in vases
of china and vari-coloured glass.[FN#211] Then I set on a tray of
many-tinted meats such as broaden the breast with their sight,
and sat talking with him and diverting him, whilst the slave-girl
went away and was absent till after sundown-prayers, when she
returned with Shams al-Nahar, attended by two maids and none
else. Now as soon as she saw Ali bin Bakkar and he saw her, he
rose and embraced her, and she on her side embraced him and both
fell in a fit to the ground. They lay for a whole hour
insensible; then, coming to themselves, they began mutually to
complain of the pains of separation. Thereupon they drew near to
each other and sat talking charmingly, softly, tenderly; after
which they somewhat perfumed themselves and fell to thanking me
for what I had done for them. Quoth I, 'Have ye a mind for food?'
'Yes,' quoth they. So I set before them a small matter of food
and they ate till they were satisfied and then washed their
hands; after which I led them to another sitting-room and brought
them wine. So they drank and drank deep and inclined to each
other; and presently Shams al-Nahar said to me, 'O my master,
complete thy kindness by bringing us a lute or other instrument
of mirth and music that the measure of our joy may be fully
filled.' I replied, 'On my head and eyes!' and rising brought her
a lute, which she took and tuned; then laying it in her lap she
touched it with a masterly touch, at once exciting to sadness and
changing sorrow to gladness; after which she sang these two
couplets,

     'My sleeplessness would show I love to bide on wake; *
          And would my leanness prove that sickness is my make:
     And tear-floods course adown the cheeks they only scald; *
          Would I knew union shall disunion overtake!'

Then she went on to sing the choicest and most affecting poesy to
many and various modes, till our senses were bewitched and the
very room danced with excess of delight and surprise at her sweet
singing; and neither thought nor reason was left in us. When we
had sat awhile and the cup had gone round amongst us, the damsel
took the lute and sang to a lively measure these couplets,

‘My love a meeting promised me and kept it faithfully, *
     One night as many I shall count in number and degree:
O Night of joyance Fate vouchsafed to faithful lovers tway, *
     Uncaring for the railer loon and all his company!
My lover lay the Night with me and clipt me with his right, *
     While I with left embraced him, a-faint for ecstasy;
And hugged him to my breast and sucked the sweet wine of his
     lips, * Full savouring the honey-draught the honey-man sold
     to me.'

Whilst we were thus drowned in the sea of gladness" (continued
the jeweller) "behold, there came in to us a little maid
trembling and said, 'O my lady, look how you may go away for the
folk have found you out and have surrounded the house; and we
know not the cause of this!' When I heard her words, I arose
startled and lo! in rushed a slave-girl who cried, 'Calamity hath
come upon you.' At the same moment the door was burst open and
there rushed in upon us ten men masked in kerchiefs with hangers
in their hands and swords by their sides, and as many more behind
them. When I saw this, the world was straitened on me for all its
wideness, and I looked to the door but saw no issue; so I sprang
from the terrace into the house of one of my neighbours and there
hid myself. Thence I found that folk had entered my lodgings and
were making a mighty hubbub; and I concluded that the Caliph had
got wind of us and had sent his Chief of the Watch to seize us
and bring us before him. So I abode confounded and ceased not
remaining in my place, without any possibility of quitting it
till midnight. And presently the house-master arose, for he had
heard me moving, and he feared with exceeding great fear of me;
so he came forth from his room with drawn brand in hand and made
at me, saying, 'Who is this in my house?' Quoth I, 'I am thy
neighbour the jeweller;' and he knew me and retired. Then he
fetched a light and coming up to me, said, 'O my brother, indeed
that which hath befallen thee this night is no light matter to
me.' I replied, 'O my brother, tell me who was in my house and
entered it breaking in my door; for I fled to thee not knowing
what was to do.' He answered, 'Of a truth the robbers who
attacked our neighbours yesterday and slew such an one and took
his goods, saw thee on the same day bringing furniture into this
house; so they broke in upon thee and stole thy goods and slew
thy guests.' Then we arose" (pursued the jeweller), "I and he,
and repaired to my house, which we found empty without a stick
remaining in it; so I was confounded at the case and said to
myself, 'As for the gear I care naught about its loss, albeit I
borrowed part of the stuff from my friends and it hath come to
grief; yet is there no harm in that, for they know my excuse in
the plunder of my property and the pillage of my place. But as
for Ali bin Bakkar and the Caliph's favourite concubine, I fear
lest their case get bruited abroad and this cause the loss of my
life.' So I turned to my neighbour and said to him, 'Thou art my
brother and my neighbour and wilt cover my nakedness; what then
dost thou advise me to do?' The man answered, 'What I counsel
thee to do is to keep quiet and wait; for they who entered thy
house and took thy goods have murdered the best men of a party
from the palace of the Caliphate and have killed not a few of the
watchmen: the government officers and guards are now in quest of
them on every road and haply they will hit upon them, whereby thy
wish will come about without effort of thine.'" The jeweller
hearing these words returned to his other house, that wherein he
dwelt,--and Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
jeweller heard these words he returned to his other house wherein
he dwelt, and said to himself, "Indeed this that hath befallen me
is what Abu al-Hasan feared and from which he fled to Bassorah.
And now I have fallen into it." Presently the pillage of his
pleasure-house was noised abroad among the folk, and they came to
him from all sides and places, some exulting in his misfortune
and others excusing him and condoling with his sorrow; whilst he
bewailed himself to them and for grief neither ate meat nor drank
drink. And as he sat, repenting him of what he had done, behold
one of his servants came in to him and said, "There is a person
at the door who asketh for thee; and I know him not." The
jeweller went forth to him and saluted him who was a stranger;
and the man whispered to him, "I have somewhat to say between our
two selves." Thereupon he brought him in and asked him, "What
hast thou to tell me?" Quoth the man, "Come with me to thine
other house;" and the jeweller enquired, "Dost thou then know my
other house?" Replied the other, "I know all about thee and I
know that also whereby Allah will dispel thy dolours." "So I said
to myself" (continued the jeweller) "'I will go with him whither
he will;' and went out and walked on till we came to my second
house; and when the man saw it he said to me, 'It is without door
or doorkeeper, and we cannot possibly sit in it; so come thou
with me to another place.' Then the man continued passing from
stead to stead (and I with him) till night overtook us. Yet I put
no question to him of the matter in hand and we ceased not to
walk on, till we reached the open country. He kept saying,
'Follow me,' and quickened his pace to a trot, whilst I trotted
after him heartening my heart to go on, until we reached the
river, where he took boat with me, and the boatman rowed us over
to the other bank. Then he landed from the boat and I landed
after him: and he took my hand and led me to a street which I had
never entered in all my days, nor do I know in what quarter it
was. Presently the man stopped at the door of a house, and
opening it entered and made me enter with him; after which he
locked the door with an iron padlock,[FN#212] and led me along
the vestibule, till he brought me in the presence of ten men who
were as though they were one and the same man; they being
brothers. We saluted them" (continued the jeweller) "and they
returned our greeting and bade us be seated; so we sat down. Now
I was like to die for excess of weariness; but they brought me
rose-water and sprinkled it on my face; after which they gave me
a sherbet to drink and set before me food whereof some of them
ate with me. Quoth I to myself, 'Were there aught harmful in the
food, they would not eat with me.' So I ate, and when we had
washed our hands, each of us returned to his place. Then they
asked me, 'Dost thou know us?' and I answered, 'No! nor in my
life have I ever seen you; nay, I know not even him who brought
me hither.' Said they, 'Tell us thy tidings and lie not at all.'
Replied I, 'Know then that my case is wondrous and my affair
marvellous; but wot ye anything about me?' They rejoined, 'Yes!
it was we took thy goods yesternight and carried off thy friend
and her who was singing to him.' Quoth I, 'Allah let down His
veil over you! Where be my friend and she who was singing to
him?' They pointed with their hands to one side and replied,
'Yonder, but, by Allah, O our brother, the secret of their case
is known to none save to thee, for from the time we brought the
twain hither up to this day, we have not looked upon them nor
questioned them of their condition, seeing them to be persons of
rank and dignity. Now this and this only it was that hindered our
killing them: so tell us the truth of their case and thou shalt
be assured of thy safety and of theirs.' When I heard this"
(continued the jeweller) "I almost died of fright and horror, and
I said to them, 'Know ye, O my brethren, that if generosity were
lost, it would not be found save with you; and had I a secret
which I feared to reveal, none but your breasts would conceal
it.' And I went on exaggerating their praises in this fashion,
till I saw that frankness and readiness to speak out would profit
me more than concealing facts; so I told them all that had
betided me to the very end of the tale. When they heard it, they
said, 'And is this young man Ali Bakkar-son and this lady Shams
al-Nahar?' I replied, 'Yes.' Now this was grievous to them and
they rose and made their excuses to the two and then they said to
me, 'Of what we took from thy house part is spent, but here is
what is left of it.' So speaking, they gave me back most of my
goods and they engaged to return them to their places in my
house, and to restore me the rest as soon as they could. My heart
was set at ease till they split into two parties, one with me and
the other against me; and we fared forth from that house and such
was my case. But as regards Ali bin Bakkar and Shams al-Nahar;
they were well-nigh dying for excess of fear, when I went up to
them and saluting them, asked, 'What happened to the damsel and
the two maids, and where be they gone?', and they answered only,
'We know nothing of them.' Then we walked on and stinted not till
we came to the river-bank where the barque lay; and we all
boarded it, for it was the same which had brought me over on the
day before. The boatman rowed us to the other side; but hardly
had we landed and taken seat on the bank to rest, when a troop of
horse swooped down on us like eagles and surrounded us on all
sides and places, whereupon the robbers with us sprang up in
haste like vultures, and the boat put back for them and took them
in and the boatman pushed off into mid-stream, leaving us on the
river bank, unable to move or to stand still. Then the chief
horseman said to us, 'Whence be ye!'; and we were perplexed for
an answer, but I said" (continued the jeweller), "'Those ye saw
with us are rogues; we know them not. As for us, we are singers,
and they intended taking us to sing for them, nor could we get
free of them, save by subtlety and soft words; so on this
occasion they let us go, their works being such as you have
seen.' But they looked at Shams al-Nahar and Ali bin Bakkar and
said to me, 'Thou hast not spoken sooth but, if thy tale be true,
tell us who ye are and whence ye are; and what be your place and
in what quarter you dwell.' I knew not what to answer them, but
Shams al-Nahar sprang up and approaching the Captain of the
horsemen spoke with him privily, whereupon he dismounted from his
steed and, setting her on horse-back, took the bridle and began
to lead his beast. And two of his men did the like with the
youth, Ali bin Bakkar, and it was the same with myself. The
Commandant of the troop ceased not faring on with us, till they
reached a certain part of the river bank, when he sang out in
some barbarous jargon[FN#213] and there came to us a number of
men with two boats. Then the Captain embarked us in one of them
(and he with us) whilst the rest of his men put off in the other,
and rowed on with us till we arrived at the palace of the
Caliphate where Shams al-Nahar landed. And all the while we
endured the agonies of death for excess of fear, and they ceased
not faring till they came to a place whence there was a way to
our quarter. Here we landed and walked on, escorted by some of
the horsemen, till we came to Ali bin Bakkar's house; and when we
entered it, our escort took leave of us and went their way. We
abode there, unable to stir from the place and not knowing the
difference between morning and evening; and in such case we
continued till the dawn of the next day. And when it was again
nightfall, I came to myself and saw Ali bin Bakkar and the women
and men of his household weeping over him, for he was stretched
out without sense or motion. Some of them came to me and
thoroughly arousing me said, 'Tell us what hath befallen our son
and say how came he in this plight?' Replied I, 'O folk, hearken
to me!'"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
jeweller answered them, "'O folk, hearken to my words and give me
no trouble and annoyance! but be patient and he will come to and
tell you his tale for himself.' And I was hard upon them and made
them afraid of a scandal between me and them, but as we were
thus, behold, Ali bin Bakkar moved on his carpet-bed, whereat his
friends rejoiced and the stranger folk withdrew from him; but his
people forbade me to go away. Then they sprinkled rose-water on
his face and he presently revived and sensed the air; whereupon
they questioned him of his case, and he essayed to answer them
but his tongue could not speak forthright and he signed to them
to let me go home. So they let me go, and I went forth hardly
crediting my escape and returned to my own house, supported by
two men. When my people saw me thus, they rose up and set to
shrieking and slapping their faces; but I signed to them with my
hand to be silent and they were silent. Then the two men went
their way and I threw myself down on my bed, where I lay the rest
of the night and awoke not till the forenoon, when I found my
people gathered round me and saying, 'What calamity befel thee,
and what evil with its mischief did fell thee?' Quoth I 'Bring me
somewhat to drink.' So they brought me drink, and I drank of it
what I would and said to them, 'What happened, happened.'
Thereupon they went away and I made my excuses to my friends, and
asked if any of the goods that had been stolen from my other
house had been returned. They answered, 'Yes! some of them have
come back; by token that a man entered and threw them down within
the doorway and we saw him not.' So I comforted myself and abode
in my place two days, unable to rise and leave it; and presently
I took courage and went to the bath, for I was worn out with
fatigue and troubled in mind for Ali bin Bakkar and Shams
al-Nahar, because I had no news of them all this time and could
neither get to Ali's house nor, out of fear for my life, take my
rest in mine own. And I repented to Almighty Allah of what I had
done and praised Him for my safety. Presently my fancy suggested
to me to go to such and such a place and see the folk and solace
myself; so I went on foot to the cloth-market and sat awhile with
a friend of mine there. When I rose to go, I saw a woman standing
over against me; so I looked at her, and lo! it was Shams
al-Nahar's slave-girl. When I saw her, the world grew dark in my
eyes and I hurried on. She followed me, but I was seized with
affright and fled from her, and whenever I looked at her, a
trembling came upon me whilst she pursued me, saying. 'Stop, that
I may tell thee somewhat!' But I heeded her not and never ceased
walking till I reached a mosque, and she entered after me. I
prayed a two-bow prayer, after which I turned to her and,
sighing, said, 'What cost thou want?' She asked me how I did, and
I told her all that had befallen myself and Ali bin Bakkar and
besought her for news of herself. She answered, 'Know that when I
saw the robbers break open thy door and rush in, I was in sore
terror, for I doubted not but that they were the Caliph's
officers and would seize me and my mistress and we should perish
forthwith: so we fled over the roofs, I and the maids; and,
casting ourselves down from a high place, came upon some people
with whom we took refuge; and they received us and brought us to
the palace of the Caliphate, where we arrived in the sorriest of
plights. We concealed our case and abode on coals of fire till
nightfall, when I opened the river-gate and, calling the boatman
who had carried us the night before, said to him, 'I know not
what is become of my mistress; so take me in the boat, that we
may go seek her on the river: haply I shall chance on some news
of her. Accordingly he took me into the boat and went about with
me and ceased not wending till midnight, when I spied a barque
making towards the water gate, with one man rowing and another
standing up and a woman lying prostrate between them twain. And
they rowed on till they reached the shore when the woman landed,
and I looked at her, and behold, it was Shams al-Nahar. Thereupon
I got out and joined her, dazed for joy to see her after having
lost all hopes of finding her alive.'" --And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
slave-girl went on telling the jeweller, "'I was dazed for joy to
see her, after having lost all hopes of finding her alive. When I
came up to her, she bade me give the man who had brought her
thither a thousand gold pieces; and we carried her in, I and the
two maids, and laid her on her bed; where she passed that night
in a sorely troubled state; and, when morning dawned, I forbade
the women and eunuchs to go in to her, or even to draw near her
for the whole of that day; but on the next she revived and
somewhat recovered and I found her as if she had come out of her
grave. I sprinkled rose-water upon her face and changed her
clothes and washed her hands and feet; nor did I cease to coax
her, till I brought her to eat a little and drink some wine,
though she had no mind to any such matter. As soon as she had
breathed the fresh air and strength began to return to her, I
took to upbraiding her, saying, 'O my lady, consider and have
pity on thyself; thou seest what hath betided us: surely, enough
and more than enough of evil hath befallen thee; for indeed thou
hast been nigh upon death. She said, 'By Allah, O good damsel, in
sooth death were easier to me than what hath betided me; for it
seemed as though I should be slain and no power could save me.
When the robbers took us from the jeweller's house they asked me,
Who mayest thou be? and hearing my answer, 'I am a singing girl,
they believed me. Then they turned to Ali bin Bakkar and made
enquiries about him, 'And who art thou and what is thy
condition?; whereto he replied, 'I am of the common kind. So they
took us and carried us along, without our resisting, to their
abode; and we hurried on with them for excess of fear; but when
they had us set down with them in the house, they looked hard at
me and seeing the clothes I wore and my necklaces and jewellery,
believed not my account of myself and said to me, 'Of a truth
these necklaces belong to no singing-girl; so be soothfast and
tell us the truth of thy case. I returned them no answer
whatever, saying in my mind, 'Now will they slay me for the sake
of my apparel and ornaments; and I spoke not a word. Then the
villains turned to Ali bin Bakkar, asking, 'And thou, who art
thou and whence art thou? for thy semblance seemeth not as that
of the common kind. But he was silent and we ceased not to keep
our counsel and to weep, till Allah softened the rogues' hearts
to pity and they said to us, 'Who is the owner of the house
wherein we were?' We answered, 'Such an one, the jeweller;
whereupon quoth one of them, 'I know him right well and I wot the
other house where he liveth and I will engage to bring him to you
this very hour. Then they agreed to set me in a place by myself
and Ali bin Bakkar in a place by himself, and said to us, 'Be at
rest ye twain and fear not lest your secret be divulged; ye are
safe from us. Meanwhile their comrade went away and returned with
the jeweller, who made known to them our case, and we joined
company with him; after which a man of the band fetched a barque,
wherein they embarked us all three and, rowing us over the river,
landed us with scant ceremony on the opposite bank and went their
ways. Thereupon up came a horse-patrol and asked us who we were;
so I spoke with the Captain of the watch and said to him, 'I am
Shams al-Nahar, the Caliph's favourite; I had drunken strong wine
and went out to visit certain of my acquaintance of the wives of
the Wazirs, when yonder rogues came upon me and laid hold of me
and brought me to this place; but when they saw you, they fled as
fast as they could. I met these men with them: so do thou escort
me and them to a place of safety and I will requite thee as I am
well able to do. When the Captain of the watch heard my speech,
he knew me and alighting, mounted me on his horse; and in like
manner did two of his men with Ali bin Bakkar. So I spoke to her'
(continued the handmaid) 'and blamed her doings, and bade her
beware, and said to her, 'O my lady, have some care for thy
life!' But she was angered at my words and cried out at me;
accordingly I left her and came forth in quest of thee, but found
thee not and dared not go to the house of Ali bin Bakkar; so
stood watching for thee, that I might ask thee of him and wot how
it goes with him. And I pray thee, of thy favour, to take of me
some money, for thou hast doubtless borrowed from thy friends
part of the gear and as it is lost, it behoveth thee to make it
good with folk.' I replied, 'To hear is to obey! go on;' and I
walked with her till we drew near my house, when she said to me,
'Wait here till I come back to thee.'"--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that after the
slave-girl had addressed the jeweller, "'Wait here till I come
back to thee!' she went away and presently returned with the
money, which she put" (continued the jeweller) "into my hand,
saying, 'O my master, in what place shall we meet?' Quoth I, 'I
will start and go to my house at once and suffer hard things for
thy sake and contrive how thou mayst win access to him, for such
access is difficult at this present.' Said she, 'Let me know some
spot, where I shall come to thee,' and I answered, 'In my other
house, I will go thither forthright and have the doors mended and
the place made safe again, and henceforth we will meet there.'
Then she took leave of me and went her way, whilst I carried the
money home, and counting it, found it five thousand dinars. So I
gave my people some of it and to all who had lent me aught I made
good their loss, after which I arose and took my servants and
repaired to my other house whence the things had been stolen; and
I brought builders and carpenters and masons who restored it to
its former state. Moreover, I placed my negress-slave there and
forgot the mishaps which had befallen me. Then I fared forth and
repaired to Ali bin Bakkar's house and, when I reached it, his
slave-servants accosted me, saying, 'Our lord calleth for thee
night and day, and hath promised to free whichever of us bringeth
thee to him; so they have been wandering about in quest of thee
everywhere but knew not in what part to find thee. Our master is
by way of recovering strength, but at times he reviveth and at
times he relapseth; and whenever he reviveth he nameth thee, and
saith, 'Needs must ye bring him to me, though but for the
twinkling of an eye;' and then he sinketh back into his torpor.'
Accordingly" (continued the jeweller) "I accompanied the slave
and went in to Ali bin Bakkar; and, finding him unable to speak,
sat down at his head, whereupon he opened his eyes and seeing me,
wept and said, 'Welcome and well come!' I raised him and making
him sit up, strained him to my bosom, and he said, 'Know, O my
brother, that, from the hour I took to my bed, I have not sat up
till now: praise to Allah that I see thee again!' And I ceased
not to prop him and support him until I made him stand on his
feet and walk a few steps, after which I changed his clothes and
he drank some wine: but all this he did for my satisfaction.
Then, seeing him somewhat restored, I told him what had befallen
me with the slave-girl (none else hearing me), and said to him,
'Take heart and be of good courage, I know what thou sufferest.'
He smiled and I added, 'Verily nothing shall betide thee save
what shall rejoice thee and medicine thee.' Thereupon he called
for food, which being brought, he signed to his pages, and they
withdrew. Then quoth he to me, 'O my brother, hast thou seen what
hath befallen me?'; and he made excuses to me and asked how I had
fared all that while. I told him everything that had befallen me,
from beginning to end, whereat he wondered and calling his
servants, said, 'Bring me such and such things.' They brought in
fine carpets and hangings and, besides that, vessels of gold and
silver, more than I had lost, and he gave them all to me; so I
sent them to my house and abode with him that night. When the day
began to yellow, he said to me, 'Know thou that as to all things
there is an end, so the end of love is either death or
accomplishment of desire. I am nearer unto death, would I had
died ere this befel!; and had not Allah favoured us, we had been
found out and put to shame. And now I know not what shall deliver
me from this my strait, and were it not that I fear Allah, I
would hasten my own death; for know, O my brother, that I am like
bird in cage and that my life is of a surety perished, choked by
the distresses which have befallen me; yet hath it a period
stablished firm and an appointed term.' And he wept and groaned
and began repeating,

     'Enough of tears hath shed the lover-wight, *
          When grief outcast all patience from his sprite:
     He hid the secrets which united us, *
          But now His eye parts what He did unite!'"

When he had finished his verses, the jeweller said to him, "O my
lord, I now intend returning to my house." He answered, "There be
no harm in that; go and come back to me with news as fast as
possible, for thou seest my case." "So I took leave of him"
(continued the jeweller) "and went home, and hardly had I sat
down, when up came the damsel, choked with long weeping. I asked,
'What is the matter'?; and she answered, 'O my lord, know then
that what we feared hath befallen us; for, when I left thee
yesterday and returned to my lady, I found her in a fury with one
of the two maids who were with us the other night, and she
ordered her to be beaten. The girl was frightened and ran away;
but, as she was leaving the house, one of the door-porters and
guards of the gate met her and took her up and would have sent
her back to her mistress. However, she let fall some hints, which
were a disclosure to him; so he cajoled her and led her on to
talk, and she tattled about our case and let him know of all our
doings. This affair came to the ears of the Caliph, who bade
remove my mistress, Shams al-Nahar, and all her gear to the
palace of the Caliphate; and set over her a guard of twenty
eunuchs. Since then to the present hour he hath not visited her
nor hath given her to know the reason of his action, but I
suspect this to be the cause; wherefore I am in fear for my life
and am sore troubled, O my lord, knowing not what I shall do, nor
with what contrivance I shall order my affair and hers; for she
hath none by her more trusted or more trustworthy than
myself.'"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
slave-girl thus addressed the jeweller, "'And in very sooth my
lady hath none by her more trusted or more trustworthy in matter
of secrecy than myself. So go thou, O my master, and speed thee
without delay to Ali bin Bakkar; and acquaint him with this, that
he may be on his guard and ward; and, if the affair be
discovered, we will cast about for some means whereby to save our
lives.' On this" (continued the jeweller), "I was seized with
sore trouble and the world grew dark in my sight for the
slave-girl's words; and when she was about to wend, I said to
her, 'What reckest thou and what is to be done?' Quoth she, 'My
counsel is that thou hasten to Ali bin Bakkar, if thou be indeed
his friend and desire to save him; thine be it to carry him this
news at once without aught of stay and delay, or regard for far
and near; and mine be it to sniff about for further news.' Then
she took her leave of me and went away: so I rose and followed
her track and, betaking myself to Ali bin Bakkar, found him
flattering himself with impossible expectations. When he saw me
returning to him so soon, he said, 'I see thou hast come back to
me forthwith and only too soon.' I answered, 'Patience, and cut
short this foolish connection and shake off the pre-occupation
wherein thou art, for there hath befallen that which may bring
about the loss of thy life and good.' Now when he heard this, he
was troubled and strongly moved; and he said to me, 'O my
brother, tell me what hath happened.' Replied I, 'O my lord, know
that such and such things have happened and thou art lost without
recourse, if thou abide in this thy house till the end of the
day.' At this, he was confounded and his soul well-nigh departed
his body, but he recovered himself and said to me, 'What shall I
do, O my brother, and what counsel hast thou to offer.' Answered
I, 'My advice is that thou take what thou canst of thy property
and whom of thy slaves thou trustest, and flee with us to a land
other than this, ere this very day come to an end.' And he said,
'I hear and I obey.' So he rose, confused and dazed like one in
epilepsy, now walking and now falling, and took what came under
his hand. Then he made an excuse to his household and gave them
his last injunctions, after which he loaded three camels and
mounted his beast; and I did likewise. We went forth privily in
disguise and fared on and ceased not our wayfare the rest of that
day and all its night, till nigh upon morning, when we unloaded
and, hobbling our camels, lay down to sleep. But we were worn
with fatigue and we neglected to keep watch, so that there fell
upon us robbers, who stripped us of all we had and slew our
slaves, when these would have beaten them off, leaving us naked
and in the sorriest of plights, after they had taken our money
and lifted our beasts and disappeared. As soon as they were gone,
we arose and walked on till morning dawned, when we came to a
village which we entered, and finding a mosque took refuge
therein for we were naked. So we sat in a corner all that day and
we passed the next night without meat or drink; and at day-break
we prayed our dawn-prayer and sat down again. Presently behold, a
man entered and saluting us prayed a two-bow prayer, after which
he turned to us and said, 'O folk, are ye strangers?' We replied,
'Yes: the bandits waylaid us and stripped us naked, and we came
to this town but know none here with whom we may shelter.' Quoth
he, 'What say ye? will you come home with me?' And" (pursued the
jeweller) "I said to Ali bin Bakkar, 'Up and let us go with him,
and we shall escape two evils; the first, our fear lest some one
who knoweth us enter this mosque and recognise us, so that we
come to disgrace; and the second, that we are strangers and have
no place wherein to lodge.' And he answered helplessly, 'As thou
wilt.' Then the man said to us again, 'O ye poor folk, give ear
unto me and come with me to my place,' and I replied, 'Hearkening
and obedience;' whereupon he pulled off a part of his own clothes
and covered us therewith and made his excuses to us and spoke
kindly to us. Then we arose and accompanied him to his house and
he knocked at the door, whereupon a little slave-boy came out and
opened to us. The host entered and we followed him;[FN#214] when
he called for a bundle of clothes and muslins for turbands, and
gave us each a suit and a piece; so we dressed and turbanded
ourselves and sat us down. Presently, in came a damsel with a
tray of food and set it before us, saying, 'Eat.' We ate some
small matter and she took away the tray: after which we abode
with our host till nightfall, when Ali bin Bakkar sighed and said
to me, 'Know, O my brother, that I am a dying man past hope of
life and I would charge thee with a charge: it is that, when thou
seest me dead, thou go to my parent[FN#215] and tell her of my
decease and bid her come hither that she may be here to receive
the visits of condolence and be present at the washing of my
corpse, and do thou exhort her to bear my loss with patience.'
Then he fell down in a fainting fit and, when he recovered he
heard a damsel singing afar off and making verses as she sang.
Thereupon he addressed himself to give ear to her and hearken to
her voice; and now he was insensible, absent from the world, and
now he came to himself; and anon he wept for grief and mourning
at the love which had befallen him. Presently, he heard the
damsel who was singing repeat these couplets,

     'Parting ran up to part from lover-twain *
          Free converse, perfect concord, friendship fain:
     The Nights with shifting drifted us apart, *
          Would heaven I wot if we shall meet again:
     How bitter after meeting 'tis to part, *
          May lovers ne'er endure so bitter pain!
     Death-grip, death-choke, lasts for an hour and ends, *
          But parting-tortures aye in heart remain:
     Could we but trace where Parting's house is placed, *
          We would make Parting eke of parting taste!'

When Ali son of Bakkar heard the damsel's song, he sobbed one sob
and his soul quitted his body. As soon as I saw that he was dead"
(continued the jeweller), "I committed his corpse to the care of
the house-master and said to him 'Know thou, that I am going to
Baghdad, to tell his mother and kinsfolk, that they may come
hither and conduct his burial.' So I betook myself to Baghdad
and, going to my house, changed my clothes; after which I
repaired to Ali bin Bakkar's lodging. Now when his servants saw
me, they came to me and questioned me of him, and I bade them ask
permission for me to go in to his mother. She gave me leave; so I
entered and saluting her, said, 'Verily Allah ordereth the lives
of all creatures by His commandment and when He decreeth aught,
there is no escaping its fulfilment; nor can any soul depart but
by leave of Allah, according to the Writ which affirmeth the
appointed term.'[FN#216] She guessed by these words that her son
was dead and wept with sore weeping, then she said to me, 'Allah
upon thee! tell me, is my son dead?' I could not answer her for
tears and excess of grief, and when she saw me thus, she was
choked with weeping and fell to the ground in a fit. As soon as
she came to herself she said to me, 'Tell me how it was with my
son.' I replied, 'May Allah abundantly compensate thee for his
loss!' and I told her all that had befallen him from beginning to
end. She then asked, 'Did he give thee any charge?'; and I
answered, 'Yes,' and told her what he had said, adding, 'Hasten
to perform his funeral.' When she heard these words, she swooned
away again; and, when she recovered, she addressed herself to do
as I charged her. Then I returned to my house; and as I went
along musing sadly upon the fair gifts of his youth, behold, a
woman caught hold of my hand;"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
jeweller thus continued:--"A woman caught hold of my hand; and I
looked at her and lo! it was the slave-girl who used to come from
Shams al-Nahar, and she seemed broken by grief. When we knew each
other we both wept and ceased not weeping till we reached my
house, and I said to her, 'Knowest thou the news of the youth,
Ali bin Bakkar?' She replied, 'No, by Allah!'; so I told her the
manner of his death and all that had passed, whilst we both wept;
after which quoth I to her, 'How is it with thy mistress?' Quoth
she, 'The Commander of the Faithful would not hear a single word
against her; but, for the great love he bore her, saw all her
actions in a favourable light, and said to her, 'O Shams
al-Nahar, thou art dear to me and I will bear with thee and bring
the noses of thy foes to the grindstone. Then he bade them
furnish her an apartment decorated with gold and a handsome
sleeping-chamber, and she abode with him in all ease of life and
high favour. Now it came to pass that one day, as he sat at wine
according to his custom, with his favourite concubines in
presence, he bade them be seated in their several ranks and made
Shams al-Nahar sit by his side. But her patience had failed and
her disorder had redoubled upon her. Then he bade one of the
damsels sing: so she took a lute and tuning it struck the chords,
and began to sing these verses,

'One craved my love and I gave all he craved of me, *
     And tears on cheek betray how 'twas I came to yield:
Tear-drops, meseemeth, are familiar with our case, *
     Revealing what I hide, hiding what I revealed:
How can I hope in secret to conceal my love, *
     Which stress of passion ever showeth unconcealed:
Death, since I lost my lover, is grown sweet to me; *
     Would I knew what their joys when I shall quit the field!

Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses sung by the
slave-girl, she could not keep her seat; but fell down in a
fainting-fit whereupon the Caliph cast the cup from his hand and
drew her to him crying out; and the damsels also cried out, and
the Prince of True Believers turned her over and shook her, and
lo and behold! she was dead. The Caliph grieved over her death
with sore grief and bade break all the vessels and
dulcimers[FN#217] and other instruments of mirth and music which
were in the room; then carrying her body to his closet, he abode
with her the rest of the night. When the day broke, he laid her
out and commanded to wash her and shroud her and bury her. And he
mourned for her with sore mourning, and questioned not of her
case nor of what caused her condition. And I beg thee in Allah's
name' (continued the damsel) 'to let me know the day of the
coming of Ali bin Bakkar's funeral procession that I may be
present at his burial.' Quoth I, 'For myself, where thou wilt
thou canst find me; but thou, where art thou to be found, and who
can come at thee where thou art?' She replied, 'On the day of
Shams al-Nahar's death, the Commander of the Faithful freed all
her women, myself among the rest;[FN#218] and I am one of those
now abiding at the tomb in such a place.' So I rose and
accompanied her to the burial-ground and piously visited Shams
al-Nahar's tomb; after which I went my way and ceased not to
await the coming of Ali bin Bakkar's funeral. When it arrived,
the people of Baghdad went forth to meet it and I went forth with
them: and I saw the damsel among the women and she the loudest of
them in lamentation, crying out and wailing with a voice that
rent the vitals and made the heart ache. Never was seen in
Baghdad a finer funeral than his; and we ceased not to follow in
crowds till we reached the cemetery and buried him to the mercy
of Almighty Allah; nor from that time to this have I ceased to
visit the tombs of Ali son of Bakkar and of Shams al-Nahar. This,
then, is their story, and Allah Almighty have mercy upon
them!"[FN#219] And yet is not their tale (continued Shahrazad)
more wonderful than that of King Shahriman. The King asked her
"And what was his tale?"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the One Hundred and Seventieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, as regards the



                    TALE OF KAMAR AL ZAMAN,



That there was in times of yore and in ages long gone before a
King called Shahrimán,[FN#220] who was lord of many troops and
guards, and officers, and who reigned over certain islands, known
as the Khálidán Islands,[FN#221] on the borders of the land of
the Persians. But he was stricken in years and his bones were
wasted, without having been blessed with a son, albeit he had
four wives, daughters of Kings, and threescore concubines, with
each of whom he was wont to lie one night in turn.[FN#222]  This
preyed upon his mind and disquieted him, so that he complained
thereof to one of his Wazirs, saying, "Verily I fear lest my
kingdom be lost when I die, for that I have no son to succeed
me." The Minister answered, "O King, peradventure Allah shall yet
bring something to pass; so rely upon the Almighty and be instant
in prayer. It is also my counsel that thou spread a banquet and
invite to it the poor and needy, and let them eat of thy food;
and supplicate the Lord to vouchsafe thee a son; for perchance
there may be among thy guests a righteous soul whose prayers find
acceptance; and thereby thou shalt win thy wish." So the King
rose, made the lesser ablution, and prayed a two-bow
prayer,[FN#223] then he cried upon Allah with pure intention;
after which he called his chief wife to bed and lay with her
forthright. By grace of God she conceived and, when her months
were accomplished, she bore a male child, like the moon on the
night of fulness. The King named him Kamar al-Zamán,[FN#224] and
rejoiced in him with extreme joy and bade the city be dressed out
in his honour; so they decorated the streets seven days, whilst
the drums beat and the messengers bore the glad tidings abroad.
Then wet and dry nurses were provided for the boy and he was
reared in splendour and delight, until he reached the age of
fifteen. He grew up of surpassing beauty and seemlihead and
symmetry, and his father loved him so dear that he could not
brook to be parted from him day or night. One day he complained
to a certain of his Ministers anent the excess of his love for
his only child, saying, "O thou the Wazir, of a truth I fear for
my son, Kamar al-Zaman, the shifts and accidents which befal man
and fain would I marry him in my life-time." Answered the Wazir,
"O King, know thou that marriage is one of the most honourable of
moral actions, and thou wouldst indeed do well and right to marry
thy son in thy lifetime, ere thou make him Sultan." On this quoth
the King, "Hither with my son Kamar al-Zaman;" so he came and
bowed his head to the ground in modesty before his sire. "O Kamar
al Zaman," said King Shahriman, "of a truth I desire to marry
thee and rejoice in thee during my lifetime." Replied he, "O my
father, know that I have no lust to marry nor cloth my soul
incline to women; for that concerning their craft and perfidy I
have read many books and heard much talk, even as saith the poet,

'Now, an of women ask ye, I reply:--*
     In their affairs I'm versed a doctor rare!
When man's head grizzles and his money dwindles, *
     In their affections he hath naught for share.'

And another said:--

'Rebel against women and so shalt thou serve Allah the more; *
     The youth who gives women the rein must forfeit all hope to
     soar.
They'll baulk him when seeking the strange device, Excelsior, *
     Tho' waste he a thousand of years in the study of science
     and lore.' "

And when he had ended his verses he continued, "O my father,
wedlock is a thing whereto I will never consent; no, not though I
drink the cup of death." When Sultan Shahriman heard these words
from his son, light became darkness in his sight and he grieved
thereat with great grief.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King
Shahriman heard these words from his son, the light became
darkness in his sight and he grieved over his son's lack of
obedience to his directions in the matter of marriage; yet, for
the great love he bore him, he was unwilling to repeat his wishes
and was not wroth with him, but caressed him and spake him fair
and showed him all manner of kindness such as tendeth to induce
affection. All this, and Kamar al-Zaman increased daily in beauty
and loveliness and amorous grace; and the King bore with him for
a whole year till he became perfect in eloquence and elegant wit.
All men were ravished with his charms; and every breeze that blew
bore the tidings of his gracious favour; his fair sight was a
seduction to the loving and a garden of delight to the longing,
for he was honey-sweet of speech and the sheen of his face shamed
the full moon; he was a model of symmetry and blandishment and
engaging ways; his shape was as the willow-wand or the rattan-
cane and his cheeks might take the place of rose or red anemone.
He was, in fine the pink of perfection, even as the poet hath
said of him,

"He came and cried they, 'Now be Allah blest! *
     Praise Him that clad that soul in so fair vest!'
He's King of Beauty where the beauteous be; *
     All are his Ryots,[FN#225] all obey his hest:
His lip-dew's sweeter than the virgin honey; *
     His teeth are pearls in double row close press:
All charms are congregate in him alone, *
     And deals his loveliness to man unrest.
Beauty wrote on those cheeks for worlds to see *
     'I testify there is none good but He.'"[FN#226]

When the year came to an end, the King called his son to him and
said, "O my son, wilt thou not hearken to me?" Whereupon Kamar
al-Zaman fell down for respect and shame before his sire and
replied, "O my father, how should I not hearken to thee, seeing
that Allah commandeth me to obey thee and not gain-say thee?"
Rejoined King Shahriman, "O my son, know that I desire to marry
thee and rejoice in thee whilst yet I live, and make thee King
over my realm, before my death." When the Prince heard his sire
pronounce these words he bowed his head awhile, then raised it
and said, "O my father, this is a thing which I will never do;
no, not though I drink the cup of death! I know of a surety that
the Almighty hath made obedience to thee a duty in religion; but,
Allah upon thee! press me not in this matter of marriage, nor
fancy that I will ever marry my life long; for that I have read
the books both of the ancients and the moderns, and have come to
know all the mischiefs and miseries which have befallen them
through women and their endless artifices. And how excellent is
the saying of the poet,

'He whom the randy motts entrap *
     Shall never see deliverance!
Though build he forts a thousand-fold, *
     Whose mighty strength lead-plates enhance,[FN#227]
Their force shall be of no avail; *
     These fortresses have not a chance!
Women aye deal in treachery *
     To far and near o'er earth's expanse
With fingers dipt in Henna-blood *
     And locks in braids that mad the glance;
And eyelids painted o'er with Kohl *
     They gar us drink of dire mischance.'

And how excellently saith another,

'Women, for all the chastity they claim, *
     Are offal cast by kites where'er they list:
This night their talk and secret charms are shine, *
     That night another joyeth calf and wrist:
Like inn, whence after night thou far'st at dawn, *
     And lodges other wight thou hast not wist.'"[FN#228]

Now when King Shahriman heard these his son's words and learnt
the import of his verses and poetical quotations, he made no
answer, of his excessive love for him, but redoubled in
graciousness and kindness to him. He at once broke up the
audience and, as soon as the seance was over, he summoned his
Minister and taking him apart, said to him, "O thou the Wazir!
tell me how I shall deal with my son in the matter of marriage."-
-And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted stay.

     When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King
summoned his Minister; and, taking him apart, said to him, "O
thou the Wazir, tell me what I shall do with my son in the matter
of marriage. Of a truth I took counsel with thee thereon and thou
didst counsel me to marry him, before making him King. I have
spoken with him of wedlock time after time and he still gainsaid
me; so do thou, O Wazir, forthright advise me what to do."
Answered the Minister, "O King, wait another year and, if after
that thou be minded to speak to him on the matter of marriage,
speak not to him privily, but address him on a day of state, when
all the Emirs and Wazirs are present with the whole of the army
standing before thee. And when all are in crowd then send for thy
son, Kamar al-Zaman, and summon him; and, when he cometh, broach
to him the matter of marriage before the Wazirs and Grandees and
Officers of state and Captains; for he will surely be bashful and
daunted by their presence and will not dare to oppose thy will."
Now when King Shahriman heard his Wazir's words, he rejoiced with
exceeding joy, seeing success in the project, and bestowed on him
a splendid robe of honour. Then he took patience with his son
another year, whilst, with every day that passed over him, Kamar
al-Zaman increased in beauty and loveliness, and elegance and
perfect grace, till he was nigh twenty years old. Indeed Allah
had clad him in the cloak of comeliness and had crowned him with
the crown of completion: his eye-glance was more bewitching than
Hárút and Marút[FN#229] and the play of his luring looks more
misleading than Tághút;[FN#230] and his cheeks shone like the
dawn rosy-red and his eyelashes stormed the keen-edged blade: the
whiteness of his brow resembled the moon shining bright, and the
blackness of his locks was as the murky night; and his waist was
more slender than the gossamer[FN#231]  and his back parts than
two sand heaps bulkier, making a Babel of the heart with their
softness; but his waist complained of the weight of his hips and
loins; and his charms ravished all mankind, even as one of the
poets saith in these couplets,

"By his eyelash tendril curled, by his slender waist I swear,
By the dart his witchery feathers, fatal hurtling through the
     air;
By the just roundness of his shape, by his glances bright and
     keen
By the swart limping of his locks, and his fair forehead shining
     sheen;
By his eyebrows which deny that she who looks on them should
     sleep,
Which now commanding, now forbidding, o'er me high dominion keep;
By the roses of his cheek, his face as fresh as myrtle wreath
His tulip lips, and those pure pearls that hold the places of his
     teeth;
By his noble form, which rises featly turned in even swell
To where upon his jutting chest two young pomegranates seem to
     dwell
By his supple moving hips, his taper waist, the silky skin,
By all he robbed Perfection of, and holds enchained his form
     within;
By his tongue of steadfastness, his nature true, and excellent,
By the greatness of his rank, his noble birth, and high descent,
Musk from my love her savour steals, who musk exhales from every
     limb
And all the airs ambergris breathes are but the Zephyr's blow
     o'er him.
The sun, methinks, the broad bright sun, as low before my love
     should quail
As would my love himself transcend the paltry paring of his
     nail!"[FN#232]

So King Shahriman, having accepted the counsel of his Wazir,
waited for another year and a great festival,--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Shahriman
having accepted the counsel of his Wazir, waited for another year
and a great festival, a day of state when the audience hall was
filled with his Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees of his reign and
Officers of State and Captains of might and main. Thereupon he
sent for his son Kamar al-Zaman who came, and kissing the ground
before him three times, stood in presence of his sire with his
hands behind his back the right grasping the left.[FN#233]  Then
said the King to him, "Know O my son, that I have not sent for
thee on this occasion and summoned thee to appear before this
assembly and all these officers of estate here awaiting our
orders save and except that I may lay a commandment on thee,
wherein do thou not disobey me; and my commandment is that thou
marry, for I am minded to wed thee to a King's daughter and
rejoice in thee ere I die." When the Prince heard this much from
his royal sire, he bowed his head groundwards awhile, then
raising it towards his father and being moved thereto at that
time by youthful folly and boyish ignorance, replied, "But for
myself I will never marry; no, not though I drink the cup of
death! As for thee, thou art great in age and small of wit: hast
thou not, twice ere this day and before this occasion, questioned
me of the matter of marriage and I refused my consent? Indeed
thou dotest and are not fit to govern a flock of sheep!" So
saying Kamar al-Zaman unclasped his hands from behind his back
and tucked up his sleeves above his elbows before his father,
being in a fit of fury; moreover, he added many words to his
sire, knowing not what he said in the trouble of his spirits. The
King was confounded and ashamed, for that this befel in the
presence of his grandees and soldier-officers assembled on a high
festival and a state occasion; but presently the majesty of
Kingship took him, and he cried out at his son and made him
tremble. Then he called to the guards standing  before him and
said, "Seize him!' So they came forward and laid hands on him
and, binding him, brought him before his sire, who bade them
pinion his elbows behind his back and in this guise make him
stand before the presence. And the Prince bowed down  his head
for fear and apprehension, and his brow and face were beaded and
spangled with sweat; and shame and confusion troubled him sorely.
Thereupon his father abused him and reviled him and cried, "Woe
to thee, thou son of adultery and nursling of
abomination![FN#234]  How durst thou answer me on this wise
before my captains and soldiers? But hitherto none hath chastised
thee,"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

     When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King
Shahriman cried out to his son Kamar al-Zaman, "How durst thou
answer me on this wise before my captains and soldiers? But
hitherto none hath chastised thee. Knowest thou not that this
deed thou hast done were a disgrace to him had it been done by
the meanest of my subjects?" And the King commanded his Mamelukes
to loose his elbow bonds and imprison him in one of the bastions
of the citadel. So they took the Prince and thrust him into an
old tower, wherein there was a dilapidated saloon and in its
middle a ruined well, after having first swept it and cleansed
its floor-flags and set therein a couch on which they laid a
mattress, a leathern rug and a cushion; and then they brought a
great lanthorn and a wax candle, for that place was dark, even by
day. And lastly the Mamelukes led Kamar al-Zaman thither, and
stationed an eunuch at the door. And when all this was done, the
Prince threw himself on the couch, sad-spirited, and heavy-
hearted; blaming himself and repenting of his injurious conduct
to his father, whenas repentance availed him naught, and saying,
"Allah curse marriage and marriageable and married women, the
traitresses all! Would I had hearkened to my father and accepted
a wife! Had I so done it had been better for me than this jail."
This is how it fared with him; but as regards King Shahri man, he
remained seated on his throne all through the day until sundown;
then he took the Minister apart and said to him "Know thou, O
Wazir, that thou and thou only west the cause of all this that
hath come to pass between me and my son by the advice thou west
pleased to devise; and so what dost thou counsel me to do now?"
Answered he, "O King, leave thy son in limbo for the space of
fifteen days: then summon him to thy presence and bid him wed;
and assuredly he shall not gainsay thee again."--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir,
said to King Shahriman, "Leave thy son in limbo for the space of
fifteen days; then summon him to thy presence and bid him wed;
and assuredly he shall not gainsay thee again." The King accepted
the Wazir's opinion and lay down to sleep that night troubled at
heart concerning his son; for he loved him with dearest love
because he had no other child but this; and it was his wont every
night not to sleep, save after placing his arm under his son's
neck. So he passed that night in trouble and unease on the Prince
's account, tossing from side to side, as he were laid on coals
of Artemisia-wood[FN#235]: for he was overcome with doubts and
fears and sleep visited him not all that livelong night; but his
eyes ran  over with tears and he began repeating, ;

"While slanderers slumber, longsome is my night; *
     Suffice thee a heart so sad in parting-plight;
I say, while night in care slow moments by, *
     'What! no return for thee, fair morning light?'"

And the saying of another,

"When saw I Pleiad-stars his glance escape *
     And Pole star draught of sleep upon him pour;
And the Bier-daughters[FN#236] wend in mourning dight, *
     I knew that morning was for him no more!"

Such was the case with King Shahriman; but as regards Kamar al-
Zaman, when the night came upon him the eunuch set the lanthorn
before him and lighting the wax-candle, placed it in the
candlestick; then brought him somewhat of food. The Prince ate a
little and continually reproached himself for his unseemly
treatment of his father, saying to himself, "O my soul, knowest
thou not that a son of Adam is the hostage of his tongue, and
that a man's tongue is what casteth him into deadly perils?" Then
his eyes ran over with tears and he bewailed that which he had
done, from anguished vitals and aching heart, repenting him with
exceeding repentance of the wrong wherewith he had wronged his
father and repeating,

"Fair youth shall die by stumbling of the tongue: *
     Stumble of foot works not man's life such wrong:
The slip of lip shall oft smite off the head, *
     While slip of foot shall never harm one long."

Now when he had made an end of eating, he asked for the
wherewithal to wash his hands and when the Mameluke had washed
them clean of the remnants of food, he arose and made the
Wuzu-ablution and prayed the prayers of sundown and nightfall,
conjoining them in one; after which he sat down.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When it was the Hundred and Seventy-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Prince Kamar al-Zaman had prayed (conjoining them in one) the
prayers of sundown and nightfall, he sat down on the well and
began reciting the Koran, and he repeated "The Cow," the "House
of Imrán," and "Y. S.;" "The Compassionate," "Blessed be the
King," "Unity" and "The two Talismans''[FN#237]; and he ended
with blessing and supplication and with saying, "I seek refuge
with Allah from Satan the stoned."[FN#238]  Then he lay down upon
his couch which was covered with a mattress of satin from al-
Ma'adin town, the same on both sides and stuffed with the raw
silk of Irak; and under his head was a pillow filled with
ostrich-down And when ready for sleep, he doffed his outer
clothes and drew off his bag-trousers and lay down in a shirt of
delicate stuff smooth as wax; and he donned a head-kerchief of
azure Marázi[FN#239] cloth; and at such time and on this guise
Kamar al-Zaman was like the full-orbed moon, when it riseth on
its fourteenth night. Then, drawing over his head a coverlet of
silk, he fell asleep with the lanthorn burning at his feet and
the wax-candle over his head, and he ceased not sleeping through
the first third of the night, not knowing what lurked for him in
the womb of the Future, and what the Omniscient had decreed for
him. Now, as Fate and Fortune would have it, both tower and
saloon were old and had been many years deserted; and there was
therein a Roman well inhabited by a Jinniyah of the seed of
Iblis[FN#240] the Accursed, by name Maymúnah, daughter of Al-
Dimiryát, a renowned King of the Jánn.--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

     When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the name of
the Jinniyah in question was Maymunah, daughter of Al-Dimiryat; a
renowned King of the Jann. And as Kamar al-Zaman continued
sleeping till the first third of the night, Maymunah came up out
of the Roman well and made for the firmament, thinking to listen
by stealth to the converse of the angels; but when she reached
the mouth of the well, she saw a light shining in the tower,
contrary to custom; and having dwelt there many years without
seeing the like, she said to herself, "Never have I witnessed
aught like this"; and, marvelling much at the matter, determined
that there must be some cause therefor. So she made for the light
and found the eunuch sleeping within the door; and inside she saw
a couch spread, whereon was a human form with the wax-candle
burning at his head and the lanthorn at his feet, and she
wondered to see the light and stole towards it little by little.
Then she folded her wings and stood by the bed and, drawing back
the coverlid, discovered Kamar al-Zaman's face. She was
motionless for a full hour in admiration and wonderment; for the
lustre of his visage outshone that of the candle; his face beamed
like a pearl with light; his eyelids were languorous like those
of the gazelle; the pupils of his eyes were intensely black and
brilliant[FN#241]; his cheeks were rosy red; his eye-brows were
arched like bows and his breath exhaled a scent of musk, even as
saith of him the poet,

"I kissed him: darker grew those pupils,[FN#242] which *
     Seduce my soul, and cheeks flushed rosier hue;
O heart, if slanderers dare to deem there be *
     His like in chasms, Say 'Bring him hither, you!' "

Now when Maymunah saw him, she pronounced the formula of
praise,[FN#243] and said, "Blessed be Allah, the best of
Creators!"; for she was of the true-believing Jinn; and she stood
awhile gazing on his face, exclaiming and envying the youth his
beauty and loveliness. And she said in herself, "By Allah! I will
do no hurt to him nor let any harm him; nay, from all of evil
will I ransom him, for this fair face deserveth not but that folk
should gaze upon it and for it praise the Lord. Yet how could his
family find it in their hearts to leave him in such desert place
where, if one of our Márids came upon him at this hour, he would
assuredly slay him." Then the Ifritah Maymunah bent over him and
kissed him between the eyes, and presently drew back the sheet
over his face which she covered up; and after this she spread her
wings and soaring into the air, flew upwards. And after rising
high from the circle of the saloon she ceased not winging her way
through air and ascending skywards till she drew near the heaven
of this world, the lowest of the heavens. And behold, she heard
the noisy flapping of wings cleaving the welkin and, directing
herself by the sound, she found when she drew near it that the
noise came from an Ifrit called Dahnash. So she swooped down on
him like a sparrow-hawk and, when he was aware of her and knew
her to be Maymunah, the daughter of the King of the Jinn, he
feared her and his side-muscles quivered; and he implored her
forbearance, saying, I conjure thee by the Most Great and August
Name and by the most noble talisman graven upon the seal-ring of
Solomon, entreat me kindly and harm me not!" When she heard these
words her heart inclined to him and she said, "Verily, thou
conjurest me, O accursed, with a mighty conjuration.
Nevertheless, I will not let thee go, till thou tell me whence
thou comest at this hour." He replied, "O Princess, Know that I
come from the uttermost end of China-land and from among the
Islands, and I will tell thee of a wonderful thing I have seen
this night. If thou kind my words true, let me wend my way and
write me a patent under thy hand and with thy sign manual that I
am thy freedman, so none of the Jinn-hosts, whether of the upper
who fly or of the lower who walk the earth or of those who dive
beneath the waters, do me let or hindrance." Rejoined Maymunah,
"And what is it thou hast seen this night, O liar, O accursed!
Tell me without leasing and think not to escape from my hand with
falses, for I swear to thee by the letters graven upon the bezel
of the seal-ring of Solomon David son (on both of whom be
peace!), except thy speech be true, I will pluck out thy feathers
with mine own hand and strip off thy skin and break thy bones!"
Quoth the Ifrit Dahnash son of Shamhúrish[FN#244] the Flyer, "I
accept, O my lady, these conditions."--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-eight Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Dahnash
spoke thus to Maymunah, "I accept, O my lady, these conditions."
Then he resumed, "Know, O my mistress, that I come to-night from
the Islands of the Inland Sea in the parts of China, which are
the realms of King Ghayúr, lord of the Islands and the Seas and
the Seven Palaces. There I saw a daughter of his, than whom Allah
hath made none fairer in her time: I cannot picture her to thee,
for my tongue would fail to describe her with her due of praise;
but I will name to thee a somewhat of her charms by way of
approach. Now her hair is like the nights of disunion and
separation and her face like the days of union and delectation;
and right well hath the poet said when picturing her,

'She dispread the locks from her head one night, *
     Showing four fold nights into one night run
And she turned her visage towards the moon, *
     And two moons showed at moment one.'

She hath a nose like the edge of the burnished blade and cheeks
like purple wine or anemones blood-red: her lips as coral and
carnelian shine and the water of her mouth is sweeter than old
wine; its taste would quench Hell's fiery pain. Her tongue is
moved by wit of high degree and ready repartee: her breast is a
seduction to all that see it (glory be to Him who fashioned it
and finished it!); and joined thereto are two upper arms smooth
and rounded; even as saith of her the poet Al-Walahán,[FN#245]

'She hath wrists which, did her bangles not contain, *
     Would run from out her sleeves in silvern rain.'

She hath breasts like two globes of ivory, from whose brightness
the moons borrow light, and a stomach with little waves as it
were a figured cloth of the finest Egyptian linen made by the
Copts, with creases like folded scrolls, ending in a waist
slender past all power of imagination; based upon back parts like
a hillock of blown sand, that force her to sit when she would
fief stand, and awaken her, when she fain would sleep, even as
saith of her and describeth her the poet,

'She hath those hips conjoined by thread of waist, *
     Hips that o'er me and her too tyrannise
My thoughts they daze whene'er I think of them, *
     And weigh her down whene'er she would uprise.'[FN#246]

And those back parts are upborne by thighs smooth and round and
by a calf like a column of pearl, and all this reposeth upon two
feet, narrow, slender and pointed like spear-blades,[FN#247]  the
handiwork of the Protector and Requiter, I wonder how, of their
littleness, they can sustain what is above them. But I cut short
my praises of her charms fearing lest I be tedious."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Seventy-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit
Dahnash bin Shamhurish said to the Ifritah Maymunah, "Of a truth
I cut short my praises fearing lest I be tedious." Now when
Maymunah heard the description of that Princess and her beauty
and loveliness, she stood silent in astonishment; whereupon
Dahnash resumed, "The father of this fair maiden is a mighty
King, a fierce knight, immersed night and day in fray and fight;
for whom death hath no fright and the escape of his foe no dread,
for that he is a tyrant masterful and a conqueror irresistible,
lord of troops and armies and continents and islands, and cities
and villages, and his name is King Ghayur, Lord of the Islands
and of the Seas and of the Seven Palaces. Now he loveth his
daughter, the young maiden whom I have described to thee, with
dearest love and, for affection of her, he hath heaped together
the treasures of all the kings and built her therewith seven
palaces, each of a different fashion; the first of crystal, the
second of marble, the third of China steel, the fourth of
precious stones and gems of price, the fifth of porcelain and
many-hued onyxes and ring bezels, the sixth of silver and the
seventh of gold. And he hath filled the seven palaces with all
sorts of sumptuous furniture, rich silken carpets and hangings
and vessels of gold and silver and all manner of gear that kings
require; and hath bidden his daughter to abide in each by turns
for a certain season of the year; and her name is the Princess
Budur.[FN#248]  Now when her beauty became known and her name and
fame were bruited abroad in the neighbouring countries, all the
kings sent to her father to demand her of him in marriage, and he
consulted her on the matter, but she disliked the very word
wedlock with a manner of abhorrence and said, O my father, I have
no mind to marry; no, not at all; for I am a sovereign Lady and a
Queen suzerain ruling over men, and I have no desire for a man
who shall rule over me. And the more suits she refused, the more
her suitors' eagerness increased and all the Royalties of the
Inner Islands of China sent presents and rarities to her father
with letters asking her in marriage. So he pressed her again and
again with advice on the matter of espousals; but she ever
opposed to him refusals, till at last she turned upon him angrily
and cried, 'O my father, if thou name matrimony to me once more,
I will go into my chamber and take a sword and, fixing its hilt
in the ground, will set its point to my waist; then will I press
upon it, till it come forth from my back, and so slay myself.'
Now when the King heard these her words, the light became
darkness in his sight and his heart burned for her as with a
flame of fire, because he feared lest she should kill herself;
and he was filled with perplexity concerning her affair and the
kings her suitors. So he said to her 'If thou be determined not
to marry and there be no help for it abstain from going and
coming in and out.' Then he placed her in a house and shut her up
in a chamber, appointing ten old women as duennas to guard her,
and forbade her to go forth to the Seven Palaces; moreover, he
made it appear that he was incensed against her, and sent letters
to all the kings, giving them to know that she had been stricken
with madness by the Jinns; and it is now a year since she hath
thus been secluded." Then continued the Ifrit Dahnash, addressing
the Ifritah Maymunah, "And I, O my lady go to her every night and
take my fill of feeding my sight on her face and I kiss her
between the eyes: yet, of my love to her, I do her no hurt
neither mount her, for that her youth is fair and her grace
surpassing: every one who seeth her jealouseth himself for her. I
conjure thee, therefore, O my lady, to go back with me and look
on her beauty and loveliness and stature and perfection of
proportion; and after, if thou wilt, chastise me or enslave me;
and win to thy will, for it is shine to bid and to forbid." So
saying, the Ifrit Dahnash bowed his head towards the earth and
drooped his wings downward; but Maymunah laughed at his words and
spat in his face and answered, "What is this girl of whom thou
pratest but a potsherd wherewith to wipe after making
water?[FN#249]  Faugh! Faugh! By Allah, O accursed, I thought
thou hadst some wondrous tale to tell me or some marvellous news
to give me. How would it be if thou were to sight my beloved?
Verily, this night I have seen a young man, whom if thou saw
though but in a dream, thou wouldst be palsied with admiration
and spittle would flow from thy mouth." Asked the Ifrit, "And who
and what is this youth?"; and she answered, "Know, O Dahnash,
that there  hath befallen the young man the like of what thou
tellest me befel thy mistress; for his father pressed him again
and again to marry, but he refused, till at length his sire waxed
wroth at being opposed and imprisoned him in the tower where I
dwell: and I came up to-night and saw him." Said Dahnash, "O my
lady, shew me this youth, that I may see if he be indeed
handsomer than my mistress, the Princess Budur, or not; for I
cannot believe that the like of her liveth in this our age."
Rejoined Maymunah, "Thou liest, O accursed, O most ill-omened of
Marids and vilest of Satans![FN#250]  Sure am I that the like of
my beloved is not in this world."--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When It was the One Hundred and Eightieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifritah
Maymunah spake thus to the Ifrit Dahnash, "Sure am I that the
like of my beloved is not in this world! Art thou mad to fellow
thy beloved with my beloved?" He said, "Allah upon thee, O my
lady, go back with me and look upon my mistress, and after I will
with thee and look upon thy beloved." She answered, "It must
needs be so, O accursed, for thou art a knavish devil; but I will
not go with thee nor shalt thou come with me, save upon condition
of a wager which is this. If the lover thou lovest and of whom
thou boastest so bravely, prove handsomer than mine whom I
mentioned and whom I love and of whom I boast, the bet shall be
shine against me; but if my beloved prove the handsomer the bet
shall be mine against thee." Quoth Dahnash the Ifrit, "O my lady,
I accept this thy wager and am satisfied thereat; so come with me
to the Islands." Quoth Maymunah; "No! for the abode of my beloved
is nearer than the abode of shine: here it is under us; so come
down with me to see my beloved and after we will go look upon thy
mistress." "I hear and I obey," said Dahnash. So they descended
to earth and alighted in the saloon which the tower contained;
then Maymunah stationed Dahnash beside the bed and, putting out
her hand, drew back the silken coverlet from Kamar al-Zaman's
face, when it glittered and glistened and shimmered and shone
like the rising sun. She gazed at him for a moment, then turning
sharply round upon Dahnash said, "Look, O accursed, and be not
the basest of madmen; I am a maid, yet my heart he hath waylaid."
So Dahnash looked at the Prince and long continued gazing
steadfastly on him then, shaking his head, said to Maymunah, "By
Allah, O my lady, thou art excusable; but there is yet another
thing to be considered, and this is, that the estate female
differeth from the male. By Allah's might, this thy beloved is
the likest of all created things to my mistress in beauty and
loveliness and grace and perfection; and it is as though they
were both cast alike in the mould of seemlihead." Now when
Maymunah heard these words, the light became darkness in her
sight and she dealt him with her wing so fierce a buffet on the
head as well-nigh made an end of him. Then quoth she to him, "I
conjure thee, by the light of his glorious countenance, go at
once, O accursed, and bring hither thy mistress whom thou lovest
so fondly and foolishly, and return in haste that we may lay the
twain together and look on them both as they lie asleep side by
side; so shall it appear to us which be the goodlier and more
beautiful of the two. Except thou obey me this very moment, O
accursed, I will dart my sparks at thee with my fire and consume
thee; yea, in pieces I will rend thee and into the deserts cast
thee, that to stay at home and wayfarer an example thou be!"
Quoth Dahnash, "O my lady, I will do thy behests, for I know
forsure that my mistress is the fairer and the sweeter." So
saying the If rit flew away and Maymunah flew with him to guard
him. They were absent awhile and presently returned, bearing the
young lady, who was clad in a shift of fine Venetian silk, with a
double edging of gold and purfled with the most exquisite of
embroidery having these couplets worked upon the ends of the
sleeves,

"Three matters hinder her from visiting us, in fear *
     Of hate-full, slandering envier and his hired spies:
The shining light of brow, the trinkets' tinkling voice, *
     And scent of essences that tell whene'er she tries:
Gi'en that she hide her brow with edge of sleeve, and leave *
     At home her trinketry, how shall her scent
     disguise?''[FN#251]

And Dahnash and Maymunah stinted not bearing that young lady till
they had carried her into the saloon and had laid her beside the
youth Kamar al-Zaman.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Ifrit
Dahnash and the Ifritah Maymunah stinted not bearing Princess
Budur till they descended and laid her on the couch beside Kamar
al- Zaman. Then they uncovered both their faces, and they were
the likest of all folk, each to other, as they were twins or an
only brother and sister; and indeed they were a seduction to the
pious, even as saith of them the poet Al-Mubín,

"O heart! be not thy love confined to one, *
     Lest thou by doting or disdain be undone:
Love all the fair, and thou shalt find with them *
     If this be lost, to thee that shall be won."

And quoth another,

"Mine eyes beheld two lying on the ground; *
     Both had I loved if on these eyne they lay!"

So Dahnash and Maymunah gazed on them awhile, and he said, "By
Allah, O my lady, it is good! My mistress is assuredly the
fairer." She replied, "Not so, my beloved is the fairer; woe to
thee, O Dahnash! Art blind of eye and heart that lean from fat
thou canst not depart? Wilt thou hide the truth? Dost thou not
see his beauty and loveliness and fine stature and symmetry? Out
on thee, hear what I purpose to say in praise of my beloved and,
if thou be a lover true to her thou dost love, do thou the like
for her thou Lovest." Then she kissed Kamar al-Zaman again and
again between the eyes and improvised this ode,

"How is this? Why should the blamer abuse thee in his pride?
What shall console my heart for thee, that art but slender bough?

A Nature Kohl'd[FN#252] eye thou hast that witcheth far and wide;
From pure platonic love[FN#253] of it deliverance none I trow!

Those glances, fell as plundering Turk, to heart such havoc deal
As never havocked scymitar made keenest at the curve.

On me thou layest load of love the heaviest while I feel
So feeble grown that under weight of chemisette I swerve.

My love for thee as wottest well is habit, and my lowe
Is nature; to all others false is all the love I tender:

Now were my heart but like to shine I never would say No;
Only my wasted form is like thy waist so gracious slender:

Out on him who in Beauty's robe for moon like charms hath fame,
And who is claimed by mouth of men as marvel of his tribe!

'Of man what manner may he be' (ask they who flyte and blame)
'For whom thy heart is so distressed?' I only cry 'Describe!'

Oh stone-entempered heart of him! learn of his yielding grace
And bending form to show me grace and yielding to consent.

Oh my Prince Beautiful, thou hast an Overseer in place[FN#254]
Who irketh me, and eke a Groom whose wrong cloth ne'er relent.

Indeed he lieth who hath said that all of loveliness
Was pent in Joseph: in thy charms there's many and many a Joe!

The Genii dread me when I stand and face to face address;
But meeting thee my fluttering heart its shame and terror show.

I take aversion semblance and I turn from thee in fright,
But more aversion I assume, more love from me dost claim;

That hair of jetty black! That brow e'er raying radiant light!
Those eyne wherein white jostles black![FN#255]  That dearling
     dainty frame!"

When Dahnash heard the poesy which Maymunah spake in praise of
her beloved, he joyed with exceeding joy and marvelled with
excessive wonderment.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased to say her permitted say

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Ifrit Dahnash heard the poesy which Maymunah spake in praise of
her beloved, he shook for exceeding joy and said, "Thou hast
celebrated thy beloved in song and thou hast indeed done well in
praise of him whom thou lovest! And there is no help for it but
that I also in my turn do my best to enfame my mistress, and
recite somewhat in her honour." Then the Ifrit went up to the
Lady Budur; and' kissing her between the eyes, looked at Maymunah
and at his beloved Princess and recited the following verses,
albeit he had no skill in poesy,

"Love for my fair they chide in angry way; *
     Unjust for ignorance, yea unjustest they!
Ah lavish favours on the love mad, whom *
     Taste of thy wrath and parting woe shall slay:
In sooth for love I'm wet with railing tears, *
     That rail mine eyelids blood thou mightest say:
No marvel what I bear for love, 'tis marvel *
     That any know my "me" while thou'rt away:
Unlawful were our union did I doubt *
     Thy love, or heart incline to other May."

And eke these words:--

"I feed eyes on their stead by the valley's side, *
     And I'm slain and my slaver[FN#256] aside hath tried:
Grief-wine have I drunken, and down my cheeks *
     Dance tears to the song of the camel-guide:
For union-blessing I strive though sure, *
     In Budur and Su'ad all my bliss shall bide:[FN#257]
Wot I not which of three gave me most to 'plain, *
     So hear them numbered ere thou decide:
Those Sworders her eyne, that Lancer her fig- *
     -ure, or ring-mail'd Locks which her forehead hide.
Quoth she (and I ask of her what so wights *
     Or abide in towns or in desert ride[FN#258] )
To me, 'In thy heart I dwell, look there!' *
     Quoth I, 'Where's my heart ah where? ah where?'"

When Maymunah heard these lines from the Ifrit, she said, "Thou
hast done well, O Dahnash! But say thou which of the two is the
handsomer?" And he answered, "My mistress Budur is handsomer than
thy beloved!" Cried Maymunah, "Thou liest, O accursed. Nay, my
beloved is more beautiful than shine!" But Dahnash persisted,
"Mine is the fairer." And they ceased not to wrangle and
challenge each other's words till Maymunah cried out at Dahnash
and would have laid violent hands on him, but he humbled himself
to her and, softening his speech, said, "Let not the truth be a
grief to thee, and cease we this talk, for all we say is to
testify in favour of our lovers; rather let each of us withdraw
the claim and seek we one who shall judge fairly between us which
of the two be fairer; and by his sentence we will abide." "I
agree to this," answered she and smote the earth with her foot,
whereupon there came out of it an Ifrit blind of an eye,
humpbacked and scurvy-skinned, with eye-orbits slit up and down
his face.[FN#259] On his head were seven horns and four locks of
hair fell to his heels; his hands were pitchfork-like and his
legs mast-like and he had nails as the claws of a lion, and feet
as the hoofs of the wild ass.[FN#260]  When that If rit rose out
of the earth and sighted Maymunah, he kissed the ground before
her and, standing with his hands clasped behind him, said, "What
is thy will, O my mistress, O daughter of my King?"[FN#261] She
replied, "O Kashkash, I would have thee judge between me and this
accursed Dahnash." And she made known to him the matter, from
first to last, whereupon the Ifrit Kashkash looked at the face of
the youth and then at the face of the girl; and saw them lying
asleep, embraced, each with an arm under the other's neck, alike
in beauty and loveliness and equal in grace and goodliness. The
Marid gazed long upon them, marvelling at their seemlihead; and,
after carefully observing the twain, he turned to Maymunah and
Dahnash, and reseated these couplets.

"Go, visit her thou lovest, and regard not
The words detractors utter, envious churls
Can never favour love. Oh! sure the Merciful
Ne'er made a thing more fair to look upon,
Than two fond lovers in each others' arms,
Speaking their passion in a mute embrace.
When heart has turned to heart, the fools would part them
Strike idly on cold steel. So when thou'st found
One purely, wholly shine, accept her true heart,
And live for her alone. Oh! thou that blamest
The love-struck for their love, give o'er thy talk,
How canst thou minister to a mind diseased?"[FN#262]

Then he turned again to Maymunah and Dahnash and said to them,
"By Allah, if you will have the truth, I tell you fairly the
twain be equal in beauty, and loveliness and perfect grace and
goodliness, nor can I make any difference between them on account
of their being man and woman. But I have another thought which is
that we wake each of them in turn, without the knowledge of the
other, and whichever is the more enamoured shall be held inferior
in seemlihead and comeliness." Quoth Maymunah, "Right is this
recking," and quoth Dahnash, "I consent to this." Then Dahnash
changed himself to the form of a flea and bit Kamar al-Zaman,
whereupon he started from sleep in a fright.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Dahnash
changed himself to the form of a flea and bit Kamar al-Zaman who
started from sleep in a fright and rubbed the bitten part, his
neck, and scratched it hard because of the smart. Then turning
sideways, he found lying by him something whose breath was
sweeter than musk and whose skin was softer than cream. Hereat
marvelled he with great marvel and he sat up and looked at what
lay beside him; when he saw it to be a young lady like an union
pearl, or a shining sun, or a dome seen from afar on a well built
wall; for she was five feet tall, with a shape like the letter
Alif[FN#263], bosomed high and rosy checked; even as saith of her
the poet,

"Four things which ne'er conjoin, unless it be *
     To storm my vitals and to shed my blood:
Brow white as day and tresses black as night *
     Cheeks rosy red and lips which smiles o'erflood."

And also quoth another,

"A Moon she rises, Willow wand she waves, *
     Breathes Ambergris, and gazes, a Gazelle:
Meseems that sorrow woes my heart and wins *
     And, when she wendeth hastes therein to dwell!"

And when Kamar al-Zaman saw the Lady Budur, daughter of King
Ghayur, and her beauty and comeliness, she was sleeping clad in a
shift of Venetian silk, without her petticoat-trousers, and wore
on her head a kerchief embroidered with gold and set with stones
of price: her ears were hung with twin earrings which shone like
constellations and round her neck was a collar of union pearls,
of size unique, past the competence of any King. When he saw
this, his reason was confounded and natural heat began to stir in
him; Allah awoke in him the desire of coition and he said to
himself, "Whatso Allah willeth, that shall be, and what He
willeth not shall never be!" So saying, he put out his hand and,
turning her over, loosed the collar of her chemise; then arose
before his sight her bosom, with its breasts like double globes
of ivory; whereat his inclination for her redoubled and he
desired her with exceeding hot desire, He would have awakened her
but she would not awake, for Dahnash had made her sleep heavy; so
he shook her and moved her, saying, "O my beloved, awake and look
on me; I am Kamar al-Zaman." But she awoke not, neither moved her
head; where-upon he considered her case for a long hour and said
to himself, "If I guess aright, this is the damsel to whom my
father would have married me and these three years past I have
refused her; but Inshallah!--God willing--as soon as it is dawn,
I will say to him, 'Marry me to her, that I may enjoy her.'"--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman said to himself, "By Allah, when I see dawn I will say to
my sire, 'Marry me to her that I may enjoy her'; nor will I let
half the day pass ere I possess her and take my fill of her
beauty and loveliness." Then he bent over Budur to buss her,
whereat the Jinniyah Maymunah trembled and was abashed and
Dahnash, the Ifrit, was like to fly for joy. But, as Kamar al-
Zaman was about to kiss her upon the mouth, he was ashamed before
Allah and turned away his head and averted his face, saying to
his heart, "Have patience." Then he took thought awhile and said,
"I will be patient; haply my father when he was wroth with me and
sent me to this jail, may have brought my young lady and made her
lie by my side to try me with her, and may have charged her not
to be readily awakened when I would arouse her, and may have said
to her, 'Whatever thing Kamar al-Zaman do to thee, make me ware
thereof'; or belike my sire standeth hidden in some stead whence
(being himself unseen) he can see all I do with this young lady;
and to morrow he will scold me and cry, 'How cometh it that thou
sayest, I have no mind to marry; and yet thou didst kiss and
embrace yonder damsel?' So I will withhold myself lest I be
ashamed before my sire; and the right and proper thing to do is
not to touch her at this present, nor even to look upon her,
except to take from her somewhat which shall serve as a token to
me and a memorial of her; that some sign endure between me and
her." Then Kamar al-Zaman raised the young lady's hand and took
from her little finger a seal-ring worth an immense amount of
money, for that its bezel was a precious jewel and around it were
graven these couplets,

"Count not that I your promises forgot, *
     Despite the length of your delinquencies
Be generous, O my lord, to me inclining; *
     Haply your mouth and cheeks these lips may kiss:
By Allah, ne'er will I relinquish you *
     Albe you will transgress love's boundaries."

Then Kamar al-Zaman took the seal-ring from the little finger of
Queen Budur and set it on his own; then, turning his back to her,
went to sleep.[FN#264]  When Maymunah the Jinniyah saw this, she
was glad and said to Dahnash and Kashkash, "Saw ye how my beloved
Kamar al-Zaman bore himself chastely towards this young lady?
Verily, this was of the perfection of his good gifts; for observe
you twain how he looked on her and noted her beauty and
loveliness, and yet embraced her not neither kissed her nor put
his hand to her, but turned his back and slept." Answered they,
"Even so!" Thereupon Maymunah changed herself into a flea and
entering into the raiment of Budur, the loved of Dahnash, crept
up her calf and came upon her thigh and, reaching a place some
four carats[FN#265] below her navel, there bit her. Thereupon she
opened her eyes and sitting up in bed, saw a youth lying beside
her and breathing heavily in his sleep, the loveliest of Almighty
Allah's creatures, with eyes that put to shame the fairest Houris
of Heaven; and a mouth like Solomon's seal, whose water was
sweeter to the taste and more efficacious than a theriack, and
lips the colour of coral-stone, and cheeks like the blood red
anemone, even as saith one, describing him in these couplets,

"My mind's withdrawn from Zaynab and Nawár[FN#266] *
     By rosy cheeks that growth of myrtle bear;
I love a fawn, a tunic-vested boy, *
     And leave the love of bracelet-wearing Fair:
My mate in hall and closet is unlike *
     Her that I play with, as at home we pair.
Oh thou, who blam'st my flight from Hind and Zaynab, *
     The cause is clear as dawn uplighting air!
Would'st have me fare[FN#267] a slave, the thrall of thrall, *
     Cribbed, pent, confined behind the bar and wall?"

Now when Princess Budur saw him, she was seized by a transport of
passion and yearning and love-longing,--And Shahrazad per ceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-fifth Night,

 She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Princess Budur saw Kamar al-Zaman she was forthwith seized with a
transport of passion and yearning and love longing, and she said
to herself, "Alas, my shame! This is a strange youth and I know
him not. How cometh he to be lying by my side on one bed?" Then
she looked at him a second time and, noting his beauty and
loveliness, said, "By Allah, he is indeed a comely youth and my
heart[FN#268] is well-nigh torn in sunder with longing for him!
But alas, how am I shamed by him! By the Almighty, had I known it
was this youth who sought me in marriage of my father, I had not
rejected him, but had wived with him and enjoyed his loveliness!"
Then she gazed in his face and said, "O my lord and light of mine
eyes, awake from sleep and take thy pleasure in my beauty and
grace." And she moved him with her hand; but Maymunah the
Jinniyah let down sleep upon him as it were a curtain, and
pressed heavily on his head with her wings so that Kamar al-Zaman
awoke not. Then Princess Budur shook him with her hands and said,
"My life on thee, hearken to me; awake and up from thy sleep and
look on the narcissus and the tender down thereon, and enjoy the
sight of naked waist and navel; and touzle me and tumble me from
this moment till break of day! Allah upon thee, O my lord, sit up
and prop thee against the pillow and slumber not!" Still Kamar
al-Zaman made her no reply but breathed hard in his sleep.
Continued she, "Alas! Alas! thou art insolent in thy beauty and
comeliness and grace and loving looks! But if thou art handsome,
so am I handsome; what then is this thou dost? Have they taught
thee to flout me or hath my father, the wretched old
fellow,[FN#269] made thee swear not to speak to me to-night?" But
Kamar al-Zaman opened not his mouth neither awoke, whereat her
passion for him redoubled and Allah inflamed her heart with love
of him. She stole one glance of eyes that cost her a thousand
sighs: her heart fluttered, and her vitals throbbed and her hands
and feet quivered; and she said to Kamar al-Zaman "Talk to me, O
my lord! Speak to me, O my friend! Answer me, O my beloved, and
tell me thy name, for indeed thou hast ravished my wit!" And
during all this time he abode drowned in sleep and answered her
not a word, and Princess Budur sighed and said, "Alas! Alas! why
art thou so proud and self satisfied?" Then she shook him and
turning his hand over, saw her seal-ring on his little finger,
whereat she cried a loud cry, and followed it with a sigh of
passion and said, "Alack! Alack! By Allah, thou art my beloved
and thou lovest me! Yet thou seemest to turn thee away from me
out of coquetry, for all, O my darling, thou camest to me, whilst
I was asleep and knew not what thou didst with me, and tookest my
seal-ring; and yet I will not pull it off thy finger." So saying,
she opened the bosom of his shirt and bent over him and kissed
him and put forth her hand to him, seeking somewhat that she
might take as a token, but found nothing. Then she thrust her
hand into his breast and, because of the smoothness of his body,
it slipped down to his waist and thence to his navel and thence
to his yard, whereupon her heart ached and her vitals quivered
and lust was sore upon her, for that the desire of women is
fiercer than the desire of men,[FN#270] and she was ashamed of
her own shamelessness. Then she plucked his seal-ring from his
finger, and put it on her own instead of the ring he had taken,
and bussed his inner lips and hands, nor did she leave any part
of him unkissed; after which she took him to her breast and
embraced him and, laying one of her hands under his neck and the
other under his arm-pit, nestled close to him and fell asleep by
his side.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.

      When it was the One hundred and Eighty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Princess Budur fell asleep by the side of Kamar al-Zaman, after
doing that which she did, quoth Maymunah to Dahnash, Night thou,
O accursed, how proudly and coquettishly my beloved bore himself,
and how hotly and passionately thy mistress showed herself to my
dearling? There can be no doubt that my beloved is handsomer than
shine; nevertheless I pardon thee." Then she wrote him a document
of manumission and turned to Kashkash and said, "Go, help Dahnash
to take up his mistress and aid him to carry her back to her own
place, for the night waneth apace and there is but little left of
it." "I hear and I obey;" answered Kashkash. So the two Ifrits
went forward to Princess Budur and upraising her flew away with
her; then, bearing her back to her own place, they laid her on
her bed, whilst Maymunah abode alone with Kamar al-Zaman, gazing
upon him as he slept, till the night was all but spent, when she
went her way. As soon as morning morrowed, the Prince awoke from
sleep and turned right and left, but found not the maiden by him
and said in his mind, "What is this business? It is as if my
father would incline me to marriage with the damsel who was with
me and have now taken her away by stealth, to the intent that my
desire for wedlock may redouble." Then he called out to the
eunuch who slept at the door, saying, "Woe to thee, O damned one,
arise at once!" So the eunuch rose, bemused with sleep, and
brought him basin and ewer, whereupon Kamar al-Zaman entered the
water closet and did his need;[FN#271] then, coming out made the
Wuzu-ablution and prayed the dawn-prayer, after which he sat
telling on his beads the ninety-and-nine names of Almighty Allah.
Then he looked up and, seeing the eunuch standing in service upon
him, said, "Out on thee, O Sawáb! Who was it came hither and took
away the young lady from my side and I still sleeping?" Asked the
eunuch, 'O my lord, what manner of young lady?" "The young lady
who lay with me last night," replied Kamar al-Zaman. The eunuch
was startled at his words and said to him, "By Allah, there hath
been with thee neither young lady nor other! How should young
lady have come in to thee, when I was sleeping in the doorway and
the door was locked? By Allah, O my lord, neither male nor female
hath come in to thee!" Exclaimed the Prince, "Thou liest, O
pestilent slave!: is it of thy competence also to hoodwink me and
refuse to tell me what is become of the young lady who lay with
me last night and decline to inform me who took her away?"
Replied the eunuch (and he was affrighted at him), "By Allah, O
my lord, I have seen neither young lady nor young lord!" His
words only angered Kamar al-Zaman the more and he said to him, "O
accursed one, my father hath indeed taught thee deceit! Come
hither." So the eunuch came up to him, and the Prince took him by
the collar and dashed him to the ground; whereupon he let fly a
loud fart[FN#272]  and Kamar al-Zaman, kneeling upon him, kicked
him and throttled him till he fainted away. Then he dragged him
forth and tied him to the well-rope, and let him down like a
bucket into the well and plunged him into the water, then drew
him up and lowered him down again. Now it was hard winter
weather, and Kamar al-Zaman ceased not to plunge the eunuch into
the water and pull him up again and douse him and haul him whilst
he screamed and called for help; and the Prince kept on saying
"By Allah, O damned one, I will not draw thee up out of this well
till thou tell me and fully acquaint me with the story of the
young lady and who it was took her away, whilst I slept."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

         When it was the One and Eighty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman said to the eunuch, "By Allah! I will not draw thee up out
of this well until thou tell me the story of the young lady and
who it was took her away whilst I slept." Answered the eunuch,
after he had seen death staring him in the face; "O my lord, let
me go and I will relate to thee the truth and the whole tale." So
Kamar al-Zaman pulled him up out of the well, all but dead for
suffering, what with cold and the pain of dipping and dousing,
drubbing and dread of drowning. He shook like cane in hurricane,
his teeth were clenched as by cramp and his clothes were drenched
and his body befouled and torn by the rough sides of the well:
briefly he was in a sad pickle. Now when Kamar al-Zaman saw him
in this sorry plight, he was concerned for him; but, as soon as
the eunuch found himself on the floor, he said to him, "O my
lord, let me go and doff my clothes and wring them out and spread
them in the sun to dry, and don others; after which I will return
to thee forthwith and tell thee the truth of the matter."
Answered the Prince, "O rascal slave! hadst thou not seen death
face to face, never hadst thou confessed to fact nor told me a
word; but go now and do thy will, and then come back to me at
once and tell me the truth." Thereupon the eunuch went out,
hardly crediting his escape, and ceased not running, stumbling
and rising in his haste, till he came in to King Shahriman, whom
he found sitting at talk with his Wazir of Kamar al-Zaman's case.
The King was saying to the Minister, "I slept not last night, for
anxiety concerning my son, Kamar al-Zaman and indeed I fear lest
some harm befal him in that old tower. What good was there in
imprisoning him?" Answered the Wazir, "Have no care for him. By
Allah, no harm will befal him! None at all! Leave him in prison
for a month till his temper yield and his spirit be broken and he
return to his senses." As the two spoke behold, up rushed the
eunuch, in the aforesaid plight, making to the King who was
troubled at sight of him; and he cried "O our lord the Sultan!
Verily, thy son's wits are fled and he hath gone mad, he hath
dealt with me thus and thus, so that I am become as thou seest
me, and he kept saying, 'A young lady lay with me this night and
stole away secretly whilst I slept. Where is she?' And he
insisteth on my letting him know where she is and on my telling
him who took her away. But I have seen neither girl nor boy: the
door was locked all through the night, for I slept before it with
the key under my head, and I opened to him in the morning with my
own hand. When King Shahriman heard this, he cried out, saying,
"Alas, my son!;" and he was enraged with sore rage against the
Wazir, who had been the cause of all this case and said to him,
"Go up, bring me news of my son and see what hath befallen his
mind." So the Wazir rose and, stumbling over his long skirts, in
his fear of the King's wrath, hastened with the slave to the
tower. Now the sun had risen and when the Minister came in to
Kamar al-Zaman, he found him sitting on the couch reciting the
Koran; so he saluted him and seated himself by his side, and said
to him, "O my lord, this wretched eunuch brought us tidings which
troubled and alarmed us and which incensed the King." Asked Kamar
al-Zaman, "And what hath he told you of me to trouble my father?
In good sooth he hath troubled none but me." Answered the Wazir,
"He came to us in fulsome state and told us of thee a thing which
Heaven forfend; and the slave added a lie which it befitteth not
to repeat, Allah preserve thy youth and sound sense and tongue of
eloquence, and forbid to come from thee aught of offense!" Quoth
the Prince, "O Wazir, and what thing did this pestilent slave say
of me?" The Minister replied, "He told us that thy wits had taken
leave of thee and thou wouldst have it that a young lady lay with
thee last night, and thou west instant with him to tell thee
whither she went and thou diddest torture him to that end." But
when Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, he was enraged with sore
rage and he said to the Wazir, "'Tis manifest to me in very deed
that you people taught the eunuch to do as he did."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her per
misted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar
al-Zaman heard the words of the Wazir he was enraged with sore
rage and said to him, "'Tis manifest to me in very deed that you
people taught the eunuch to do as he did and forbade him to tell
me what became of the young lady who lay with me last night. But
thou, O Wazir, art cleverer than the eunuch, so do thou tell me
without stay or delay, whither went the young lady who slept on
my bosom last night; for it was you who sent her and bade her
steep in my embrace and we lay together till dawn; but, when I
awoke, I found her not. So where is she now?" Said the Wazir, "O
my lord Kamar al-Zaman, Allah's name encompass thee about! By the
Almighty, we sent none to thee last night, but thou layest alone,
with the door locked on thee and the eunuch sleeping behind it,
nor did there come to thee young lady or any other. Regain thy
reason, O my lord, and stablish thy senses and occupy not thy
mind with vanities." Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman who was incensed at
his words, "O Wazir, the young lady in question is my beloved,
the fair one with the black eyes and rosy cheeks, whom I held in
my arms all last night." So the Minister wondered at his words
and asked him, "Didst thou see this damsel last night with shine
own eyes on wake or in sleep?" Answered Kamar al-Zaman, "O ill-
omened old man, dost thou fancy I saw her with my ears? Indeed, I
saw her with my very eyes and awake, and I touched her with my
hand, and I watched by her full half the night, feeding my vision
on her beauty and loveliness and grace and tempting looks. But
you had schooled her and charged her to speak no word to me; so
she feigned sleep and I lay by her side till dawn, when I awoke
and found her gone." Rejoined the Wazir, "O my lord Kamar al-
Zaman, haply thou sawest this in thy sleep; it must have been a
delusion of dreams or a deception caused by eating various kinds
of food, or a suggestion of the accursed devils." Cried the
Prince, "O pestilent old man! wilt thou too make a mock of me and
tell me this was haply a delusion of dreams, when that eunuch
confessed to the young lady, saying, 'At once I will return to
thee and tell thee all about her?'" With these words, he sprang
up and rushed at the Wazir and gripped hold of his beard (which
was long[FN#273]) and, after gripping it, he twisted his hand in
it and haling him off the couch, threw him on the floor. It
seemed to the Minister as though his soul departed his body for
the violent plucking at his beard; and Kamar al-Zaman ceased not
kicking the Wazir and basting his breast and ribs and cuffing him
with open hand on the nape of his neck till he had well-nigh
beaten him to death. Then said the old man in his mind, "Just as
the eunuch-slave saved his life from this lunatic youth by
telling him a lie, thus it is even fitter that I do likewise;
else he will destroy me. So now for my lie to save myself, he
being mad beyond a doubt." Then he turned to Kamar al-Zaman and
said, "O my lord, pardon me; for indeed thy father charged me to
conceal from thee this affair of the young lady; but now I am
weak and weary and wounded with funding; for I am an old man and
lack strength and bottom to endure blows. Have, therefore, a
little patience with me and I will tell thee all and acquaint
thee with the story of the young woman." When the Prince heard
this, he left off drubbing him and said, "Wherefore couldst thou
not tell me the tale until after shame and blows? Rise now,
unlucky old man that thou art, and tell me her story." Quoth the
Wazir, "Say, dost thou ask of the young lady with the fair face
and perfect form?" Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, "Even so! Tell me, O
Wazir, who it was that led her to me and laid her by my side, and
who was it that took her away from me by night; and let me know
forthright whither she is gone, that I myself may go to her at
once. If my father did this deed to me that he might try me by
means of that beautiful girl, with a view to our marriage, I
consent to wed her and free myself of this trouble; for he did
all these dealings with me only because I refused wedlock. But
now I consent and I say again, I consent to matrimony: so tell
this to my father, O Wazir, and advise him to marry me to that
young lady; for I will have none other and my heart loveth none
save her alone. Now rise up at once and haste thee to my father
and counsel him to hurry on our wedding and bring me his answer
within this very hour." Rejoined the Wazir, "'Tis well!" and went
forth from him, hardly believing himself out of his hands. Then
he set off from the tower, walking and tripping up as he went,
for excess of fright and agitation, and he ceased not hurrying
till he came in to King Shahriman.--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Eighty-nineth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Wazir,
fared forth from the tower, and ceased not running till he came
in to King Shahriman, who said to him as he sighted him, "O thou
Wazir, what man hath brought thee to grief and whose mischief
hath treated thee in way unlief; how happeneth it that I see thee
dumb foundered and coming to me thus astounded?" Replied the
Wazir, "O King! I bring thee good news." "And what is it?" quoth
Shahriman, and quoth the Wazir, "Know that thy son Kamar al-
Zaman's wits are clean gone and that he hath become stark mad."
Now when the King heard these words of the Minister, light became
darkness in his sight and he said, "O Wazir, make clear to me the
nature of his madness." Answered the Wazir, "O my lord, I hear
and I obey." Then he told him that such and such had passed and
acquainted him with all that his son had done; whereupon the King
said to him, "Hear, O Wazir, the good tidings which I give thee
in return for this thy fair news of my son's insanity; and it
shall be the cutting off of thy head and the forfeiture of my
favour, O most ill-omened of Wazirs and foulest of Emirs! for I
feel that thou hast caused my son's disorder by the wicked advice
and the sinister counsel thou hast given me first and last. By
Allah, if aught of mischief or madness have befallen my son I
will most assuredly nail thee upon the palace dome and make thee
drain the bitterest draught of death!'' Then he sprang up and,
taking the Wazir, with him, fared straight for the tower and
entered it. And when Kamar al-Zaman saw the two, he rose to his
father in haste from the couch whereon he sat and kissing his
hands drew back and hung down his head and stood before him with
his arms behind him, and thus remained for a full hour. Then he
raised his head towards his sire; the tears gushed from his eyes
and streamed down his cheeks and he began repeating,

"Forgive the sin 'neath which my limbs are trembling,
For the slave seeks for mercy from his master;
I've done a fault, which calls for free confession,
Where shall it call for mercy, and forgiveness?''[FN#274]

When the King heard this, he arose and embraced his son, and
kissing him between the eyes, made him sit by his side on the
couch; then he turned to the Wazir, and, looking on him with eyes
of wrath, said, "O dog of Wazirs, how didst thou say of my son
such and such things and make my heart quake for him?" Then he
turned to the Prince and said, "O my son, what is to-day called?"
He answered, "O my father, this day is the Sabbath, and to morrow
is First day: then come Second day, Third, Fourth, Fifth day and
lastly Friday."[FN#275] Exclaimed the King, "O my son, O Kamar
al-Zaman, praised be Allah for the preservation of thy reason!
What is the present month called in our Arabic?" "Zú'l Ka'adah,"
answered Kamar al-Zaman, "and it is followed by Zú'l hijjah; then
cometh Muharram, then Safar, then Rabí'a the First and Rabí'a the
Second, the two Jamádás, Rajab, Sha'aban, Ramazán and Shawwál."
At this the King rejoiced exceedingly and spat in the Wazir's
face, saying, "O wicked old man, how canst thou say that my son
is mad? And now none is mad but thou." Hereupon the Minister
shook his head and would have spoken, but bethought himself to
wait awhile and see what might next befal. Then the King said to
his child, "O my son, what words be these thou saddest to the
eunuch and the Wazir, declaring, 'I was sleeping with a fair
damsel this night?'[FN#276] What damsel is this of whom thou
speakest?" Then Kamar al-Zaman laughed at his father's words and
replied, "O my father, know that I can bear no more jesting; so
add me not another mock or even a single word on the matter, for
my temper hath waxed short by that you have done with me. And
know, O my father, with assured knowledge, that I consent to
marry, but on condition that thou give me to wife her who lay by
my side this night; for I am certain it was thou sentest her to
me and madest me in love with her and then despatchedst a message
to her before the dawn and tookest her away from beside me."
Rejoined the King, "The name of Allah encompass thee about, O my
son, and be thy wit preserved from witlessness!"--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When it was the One Hundred and Ninetieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth King
Shahriman to his son Kamar al-Zaman, "The name of Allah encompass
thee about, O my son, and be thy wit preserved from witlessness!
What thing be this young lady whom thou fanciest I sent to thee
last night and then again that I sent to withdraw her from thee
before dawn? By the Lord, O my son, I know nothing of this
affair, and Allah upon thee, tell me if it be a delusion of
dreaming or a deception caused by indisposition. For verily thou
layest down to sleep last night with thy mind occupied anent
marriage and troubled with the talk of it (Allah damn marriage
and the hour when I spake of it and curse him who counselled
it!); and without doubt or diffidence I can say that being moved
in mind by the mention of wedlock thou dreamedst that a handsome
young lady embraced thee and didst fancy thou sawest her when
awake. But all this, O my son, is but an imbroglio of dreams."
Replied Kamar al-Zaman, "Leave this talk and swear to me by
Allah, the All creator, the Omniscient; the Humbler of the tyrant
Caesars and the Destroyer of the Chosroes, that thou knowest
naught of the young lady nor of her woning-place." Quoth the
King, "By the Might of Allah Almighty, the God of Moses and
Abraham, I know naught of all this and never even heard of it; it
is assuredly a delusion of dreams thou hast seen in sleep.' Then
the Prince replied to his sire, "I will give thee a self evident
proof that it happened to me when on wake."--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al
Zamar said to his sire, "I will give thee a self-evident proof
that this happened to me when on wake. Now let me ask thee, did
it ever befal any man to dream that he was battling a sore battle
and after to awake from sleep and find in his hand a sword-blade
besmeared with blood? Answered the King, "No, by Allah, O my son,
this hath never been." Rejoined Kamar al-Zaman, "I will tell thee
what happened to me and it was this. Meseemed I awoke from sleep
in the middle of the past night and found a girl lying by my
side, whose form was like mine and whose favour was as mine. I
embraced her and turned her about with my hand and took her seal-
ring, which I put on my finger, and she pulled off my ring and
put it on hers. Then I went to sleep by her side, but refrained
from her for shame of thee, deeming that thou hadst sent her to
me, intending to tempt me with her and incline me to marriage,
and suspecting thee to be hidden somewhere whence thou couldst
see what I did with her. And I was ashamed even to kiss her on
the mouth for thy account, thinking over this temptation to
wedlock; and, when I awoke at point of day, I found no trace of
her, nor could I come at any news of her, and there befel me what
thou knowest of with the eunuch and with the Wazir. How then can
this case have been a dream and a delusion, when the ring is a
reality? Save for her ring on my finger I should indeed have
deemed it a dream; but here is the ring on my little finger: look
at it, O King, and see what is its worth." So saying he handed
the ring to his father, who examined it and turned it over, then
looked to his son and said, "Verily, there is in this ring some
mighty mystery and some strange secret. What befel thee last
night with the girl is indeed a hard nut to crack, and I know not
how intruded upon us this intruder. None is the cause of all this
posher save the Wazir; but, Allah upon thee, O my son, take
patience, so haply the Lord may turn to gladness this thy grief
and to thy sadness bring complete relief: as quoth one of the
poets,

'Haply shall Fortune draw her rein, and bring *
     Fair chance, for she is changeful, jealous, vain:
Still I may woo my want and wishes win, *
     And see on heels of care unfair, the fain.'

And now, O my son, I am certified at this hour that thou art not
mad; but thy case is a strange one which none can clear up for
thee save the Almighty." Cried the Prince, "By Allah, O my
father, deal kindly with me and seek out this young lady and
hasten her coming to me; else I shall die of woe and of my death
shall no one know." Then he betrayed the ardour of his passion;
and turned towards his father and repeated these two couplets,

"If your promise of personal call prove untrue, *
     Deign in vision to grant me an interview:
Quoth they, 'How can phantom[FN#277] appear to the sight *
     Of a youth, whose sight is fordone, perdue?'"

Then, after ending his poetry, Kamar al-Zaman again turned to his
father, with submission and despondency, and shedding tears in
flood, began repeating these lines.--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar
al-Zaman had repeated to his father these verses, he wept and
complained and groaned from a wounded heart; and added these
lines,

"Beware that eye glance which hath magic might; *
     Wherever turn those orbs it bars our flight:
Nor be deceived by low sweet voice, that breeds *
     A fever festering in the heart and sprite:
So soft that silky skin, were rose to touch it *
     She'd cry and tear-drops rain for pain and fright:
Did Zephyr e'en in sleep pass o'er her land, *
     Scented he'd choose to dwell in scented site:
Her necklets vie with tinkling of her belt; *
     Her wrists strike either wristlet dumb with spite:
When would her bangles buss those rings in ear, *
     Upon the lover's eyne high mysteries 'light:
I'm blamed for love of her, nor pardon claim; *
     Eyes are not profiting which lack foresight:
Heaven strip thee, blamer mine! unjust art thou; *
     Before this fawn must every eye low bow."[FN#278]

After which he said, "By Allah, O my father, I cannot endure to
be parted from her even for an hour." The King smote hand upon
hand and exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might
save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! No cunning contrivance
can profit us in this affair." Then he took his son by the hand
and carried him to the palace, where Kamar al-Zaman lay down on
the bed of languor and the King sat at his head, weeping and
mourning over him and leaving him not, night or day, till at last
the Wazir came in to him and said, "O King of the age and the
time, how long wilt thou remain shut up with thy son and hide
thyself from thy troops. Haply, the order of thy realm may be
deranged, by reason of shine absence from thy Grandees and
Officers of State. It behoveth the man of understanding, if he
have various wounds in his body, to apply him first to medicine
the most dangerous; so it is my counsel to thee that thou remove
thy son from this place to the pavilion which is in the palace
overlooking the sea; and shut thyself up with him there, setting
apart in every week two days, Thursday and Monday, for state
receptions and progresses and reviews. On these days let shine
Emirs and Wazirs and Chamberlains and Viceroys and high Officials
and Grandees of the realm and the rest of the levies and the
lieges have access to thee and submit their affairs to thee; and
do thou their needs and judge among them and give and take with
them and bid and forbid. And the rest of the week thou shalt pass
with thy son, Kamar al-Zaman, and cease not thus doing till Allah
shall vouchsafe relief to you twain. Think not, O King, that thou
art safe from the shifts of Time and the strokes of Change which
come like a traveller in the night; for the wise man is ever on
his guard and how well saith the poet,

'Thou deemedst well of Time when days went well, *
     And fearedst not what ills might bring thee Fate:
The Nights so fair and restful cozened thee, *
     For peaceful Nights bring woes of heavy weight.
Oh children of mankind whom Time befriends, *
     Beware of Time's deceits or soon or late!'''[FN#279]

When the Sultan heard his Wazir's words he saw that they were
right and deemed his counsel wise, and it had effect upon him for
he feared lest the order of the state be deranged; so he rose at
once and bade transport his son from his sick room to the
pavilion in the palace overlooking the sea. Now this palace was
girt round by the waters and was approached by a causeway twenty
cubits wide. It had windows on all sides commanding an ocean-
view; its floor was paved with parti-coloured marbles and its
ceiling was painted in the richest pigments and figured with gold
and lapis-lazuli. They furnished it for Kamar al-Zaman with
splendid upholstery, embroidered rugs and carpets of the richest
silk; and they clothed the walls with choice brocades and hung
curtains bespangled with gems of price. In the midst they set him
a couch of juniper[FN#280]-wood inlaid with pearls and jewels,
and Kamar al-Zaman sat down thereon, but the excess of his
concern and passion for the young lady had wasted his charms and
emaciated his body; he could neither eat nor drink nor sleep; and
he was like a man who had been sick twenty years of sore
sickness. His father seated himself at his head, grieving for him
with the deepest grief, and every Monday and Thursday he gave his
Wazirs and Emirs and Chamberlains and Viceroys and Lords of the
realm and levies and the rest of his lieges leave to come up to
him in that pavilion. So they entered and did their several
service and duties and abode with him till the end of the day,
when they went their ways and the King returned to his son in the
pavilion whom he left not night nor day; and he ceased not doing
on this wise for many days and nights. Such was the case with
Kamar al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman; but as regards Princess
Budur, daughter of King Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and the Seven
Palaces, when the two Jinns bore her up and laid her on her bed,
she slept till daybreak, when she awoke and sitting upright
looked right and left, but saw not the youth who had lain in her
bosom. At this her vitals fluttered, her reason fled and she
shrieked a loud shriek which awoke all her slave girls and nurses
and duennas. They flocked in to her; and the chief of them came
forward and asked, "What aileth thee, O my lady?" Answered the
Princess, "O wretched old woman, where is my beloved, the
handsome youth who lay last night in my bosom? Tell me whither he
is gone." Now when the duenna heard this, the light starkened in
her sight and she feared from her mischief with sore affright,
and said to her, "O my Lady Budur, what unseemly words are
these?" Cried the Princess, "Woe to thee pestilent crone that
thou art! I ask thee again where is my beloved, the goodly youth
with the shining face and the slender form, the jetty eyes and
the joined eyebrows, who lay with me last night from supper-tide
until near daybreak?" She rejoined "By Allah, O my lady, I have
seen no young man nor any other. I conjure thee, carry not this
unseemly jest too far lest we all lose our lives; for perhaps the
joke may come to thy father's ears and who shall then deliver us
from his hand?"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the duenna
bespake the Lady Budur in these words, "Allah upon thee, O my
lady! carry not this unseemly jest too far; for perhaps it may
come to thy father's ears, and who shall then deliver us from his
hand?" The Princess rejoined, "In very sooth a youth lay with me
last night, one of the fairest-faced of men." Exclaimed the
duenna, "Heaven preserve thy reason! indeed no one lay with thee
last night." Thereupon the Princess looked at her hand and,
finding Kamar al-Zaman's seal-ring on her finger in stead of her
own, said to her, "Woe to thee, thou accursed! thou traitress!
wilt thou lie to me and tell me that none lay with me last night
and swear to me a falsehood in the name of the Lord?" Replied the
duenna, "By Allah, I do not lie to thee nor have I sworn
falsely." Then the Princess was incensed by her words and,
drawing a sword she had by her, she smote the old woman with it
and slew her;[FN#281] whereupon the eunuch and the waiting-women
and the concubines cried out at her, and ran to her father and,
without stay or delay, acquainted him with her case. So the King
went to her, and asked her, "O my daughter, what aileth thee?";
and she answered, "O my father, where is the youth who lay with
me last night?" Then her reason fled from her head and she cast
her eyes right and left and rent her raiment even to the skirt.
When her sire saw this, he bade the women lay hands on her; so
they seized her and manacled her, then putting a chain of iron
about her neck, made her fast to one of the palace-windows and
there left her.[FN#282] Thus far concerning Princess Budur; but
as regards her father, King Ghayur, the world was straitened upon
him when he saw what had befallen his daughter, for that he loved
her and her case was not a little grievous to him. So he summoned
on it the doctors and astrologers and men skilled in talisman-
writing and said to them, "Whoso healeth my daughter of what ill
she hath, I will marry him to her and give him half of my
kingdom; but whoso cometh to her and cureth her not, I will
strike off his head and hang it over her palace-gate."
Accordingly, all who went in to her, but failed to heal her, he
beheaded and hung their heads over the palace-gates, till he had
beheaded on her account forty doctors and crucified forty
astrologers; wherefor the general held aloof from her, all the
physicians having failed to medicine her malady; and her case was
a puzzle to the men of science and the adepts in cabalistic
characters. And as her longing and passion redoubled and love and
distraction were sore upon her, she poured forth tears and
repeated these couplets,

"My fondness, O my moon, for thee my foeman is, *
     And to thy comradeship the nights my thought compel:
In gloom I bide with fire that flames below my ribs, *
     Whose lowe I make comparison with heat of Hell:
I'm plagued with sorest stress of pine and ecstasy; *
     Nor clearest noon tide can that horrid pain dispel."

Then she sighed and repeated these also,

"Salams fro' me to friends in every stead; *
     Indeed to all dear friends do I incline:
Salams, but not salams that bid adieu; *
     Salams that growth of good for you design:
I love you dear, indeed, nor less your land, *
     But bide I far from every need of mine!"

And when the Lady Budur ceased repeating her poetry, she wept
till her eyes waxed sore and her cheeks changed form and hue, and
in this condition she continued three years. Now she had a
foster-brother, by name Marzawán,[FN#283] who was travelling in
far lands and absent from her the whole of this time. He loved
her with an exceeding love, passing the love of brothers; so when
he came back he went in to his mother and asked for his sister,
the Princess Budur. She answered him, "O my son, thy sister hath
been smitten with madness and hath passed these three years with
a chain of iron about her neck; and all the physicians and men of
science have failed of healing her." When Marzawan heard these
words he said, "I must needs go in to her; peradventure I may
discover what she hath, and be able to medicine her;" and his
mother replied, "Needs must thou visit her, but wait till to
morrow, that I may contrive some thing to suit thy case." Then
she went a-foot to the palace of the Lady Budur and, accosting
the eunuch in charge of the gates, made him a present and said to
him, "I have a daughter, who was brought up with thy mistress and
since then I married her; and, when that befel the Princess which
befel her, she became troubled and sore concerned, and I desire
of thy favour that my daughter may go in to her for an hour and
look on her; and then return whence she came, so shall none know
of it." Quoth the eunuch, "This may not be except by night, after
the King hath visited his child and gone away; then come thou and
thy daughter." So she kissed the eunuch's hand and, returning
home, waited till the morrow at nightfall; and when it was time
she arose and sought her son Marzawan and attired him in woman's
apparel; then, taking his hand in hers, led him towards the
palace, and ceased not walking with him till she came upon the
eunuch after the Sultan had ended his visit to the Princess. Now
when the eunuch saw her, he rose to her, and said, "Enter, but do
not prolong thy stay!" So they went in and when Marzawan beheld
the Lady Budur in the aforesaid plight, he saluted her, after his
mother had doffed his woman's garb: then he took out of their
satchel books he had brought with him; and, lighting a wax-
candle, he began to recite certain conjurations Thereupon the
Princess looked at him and recognising him, said, "O my brother,
thou hast been absent on thy travels' and thy news have been cut
off from us." He replied, "True! but Allah hath brought me back
safe and sound, I am now minded to set out again nor hath aught
delayed me but the news I hear of thee; wherefore my heart burned
for thee and I came to thee, so haply I may free thee of thy
malady." She rejoined, O my brother, thinkest thou it is madness
aileth me?" "Yes." answered he, and she said, "Not so, by Allah!
'tis even as saith the poet,

'Quoth they 'Thou rav'st on him thou lov'st': quoth I, *
     'The sweets of love are only for th' insane!'
Love never maketh Time his friend befriend; *
     Only the Jinn-struck wight such boon can gain:
Well! yes, I'm mad: bring him who madded me *
     And, if he cure m: madness, blame restrain!'"

Then she let Marzawan know that she was love-daft and he said
"Tell me concerning thy tale and what befel thee: haply there may
be in my hand something which shall be a means of deliverance for
thee."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of da, and ceased saying
her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Marzawar
thus addressed Princess Budur, "Tell me concerning thy tale and
what befel thee: haply Allah may inspire me with a means of
deliverance for thee." Quoth she, "O my brother, hear my story
which is this. One night I awoke from sleep, in the last third of
the night[FN#284] and, sitting up, saw by my side the handsomest
of youths that be, and tongue faileth to describe him, for he was
as a willow-wand or an Indian rattan-cane. So methought it was my
father who had done on this wise in order thereby to try me, for
that he had consulted me concerning wedlock, when the Kings
sought me of him to wife, and I had refused. It was this though
withheld me from arousing him, for I feared that, if I did aught
of embraced him, he would peradventure inform my father of m,
doings. But in the morning, I found on my finger his seal-ring,
in place of my own which he had taken. And, O my brother, m,
heart was seized with love of him at first sight; and, for the
violence of my passion and longing, I have never savoured the
taste of sleep and have no occupation save weeping alway and
repeating verses night and day. And this, O my brother, is my
story and the cause of my madness." Then she poured forth tears
and repeated these couplets,

"Now Love hast banished all that bred delight; *
     With that heart-nibbling fawn my joys took flight:
Lightest of trifles lover's blood to him *
     Who wastes the vitals of the hapless wight!
For him I'm jealous of my sight and thought; *
     My heart acts spy upon my thought and sight:
Those long-lashed eyelids rain on me their shafts *
     Guileful, destroying hearts where'er they light:
Now, while my portion in the world endures, *
     Shall I behold him ere I quit world-site?
What bear I for his sake I'd hide, but tears *
     Betray my feelings to the spy's despight.
When near, our union seemeth ever far; *
     When far, my thoughts to him aye nearest are."

And presently she continued, "See then, O my brother, how thou
mayest aid me in mine affliction." So Marzawan bowed his head
ground-wards awhile, wondering and not knowing what to do, then
he raised it and said to her, "All thou hast spoken to me I hold
to be true, though the case of the young man pass my
understanding: but I will go round about all lands and will seek
for what may heal thee; haply Allah shall appoint thy healing to
be at my hand. Meanwhile, take patience and be not disquieted."
Thereupon Marzawan farewelled her, praying that she might be
constant and left her repeating these couplets,

"Thine image ever companies my sprite, *
     For all thou'rt distant from the pilgrim's sight:
But my heart-wishes e'er attract thee near: *
     What is the lightning's speed to Thought's swift flight?
Then go not thou, my very light of eyes *
     Which, when thou'rt gone, lack all the Kohl of light."

Then Marzawan returned to his mother's house, where he passed the
night. And when the morrow dawned, having equipped himself for
his journey, he fared forth and ceased not faring from city to
city and from island to island for a whole month, till he came to
a town named Al-Tayrab.[FN#285] Here he went about scenting news
of the townsfolk, so haply he might light on a cure for the
Princess's malady, for in every capital he entered or passed by,
it was reported that Queen Budur, daughter of King Ghayur, had
lost her wits. But arriving at Al-Tayrab city, he heard that
Kamar al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman, was fallen sick and
afflicted with melancholy madness. So Marzawan asked the name of
the Prince's capital and they said to him, "It is on the Islands
of Khalidan and it lieth distant from our city a whole month's
journey by sea, but by land it is six months' march." So he went
down to the sea in a ship which was bound for the Khalidan Isles,
and she sailed with a favouring breeze for a whole month, till
they came in sight of the capital; and there remained for them
but to make the land when, behold, there came out on them a
tempestuous wind which carried away the masts and rent the
canvas, so that the sails fell into the sea and the ship
capsized, with all on board,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
ship capsized with all on board, each sought his own safety; and
as for Marzawan the set of the sea carried him under the King's
palace, wherein was Kamar al-Zaman. And by the decree of destiny
it so happened that this was the day on which King Shahriman gave
audience to his Grandees and high officers, and he was sitting,
with his son's head on his lap, whilst an eunuch fanned away the
flies; and the Prince had not spoken neither had he eaten nor
drunk for two days, and he was grown thinner than a
spindle.[FN#286] Now the Wazir was standing respectfully a-foot
near the latticed window giving on the sea and, raising his eyes,
saw Marzawan being beaten by the billows and at his last gasp;
whereupon his heart was moved to pity for him, so he drew near to
the King and moving his head towards him said, "I crave thy
leave, O King, to go down to the court of the pavilion and open
the water-gate that I may rescue a man who is at the point of
drowning in the sea and bring him forth of danger into
deliverance; peradventure, on this account Allah may free thy son
from what he hath!" The King replied, "O thou Wazir, enough is
that which hath befallen my son through thee and on shine
account. Haply, if thou rescue this drowning man, he will come to
know our affairs, and look on my son who is in this state and
exult over me; but I swear by Allah, that if this half-drowned
wretch come hither and learn our condition and look upon my son
and then fare forth and speak of our secrets to any, I will
assuredly strike off thy head before his; for thou, O my Minister
art the cause of all that hath betided us, first and last. Now do
as thou wilt." Thereupon the Wazir sprang up and, opening the
private pastern which gave upon the sea, descended to the
causeway; then walked on twenty steps and came to the water where
he saw Marzawan nigh unto death. So he put out his hand to him
and, catching him by his hair, drew him ashore in a state of
insensibility, with belly full of water and eyes half out of his
head. The Wazir waited till he came to himself, when he pulled
off his wet clothes and clad him in a fresh suit, covering his
head with one of his servants' turbands; after which he said to
him, Know that I have been the means of saving thee from
drowning: do not thou requite me by causing my death and shine
own."ÄAnd Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Wazir did to Marzawan what he did, he thus addressed him Know
that I have been the cause of saving thee from drowning so
requite me not by causing my death and shine own." Asked
Marzawan, And how so?"; and the Wazir answered, "Thou art at this
hour about to go up and pass among Emirs and Wazirs all of them
silent and none speaking, because of Kamar al-Zaman the son of
the Sultan." Now when Marzawan heard the name of Kamar al-Zaman,
he knew that this was he whom he had heard spoken of in sundry
cities and of whom he came in search, but he feigned ignorance
and asked the Wazir, "And who is Kamar al-Zaman? Answered the
Minister, "He is the son of Sultan Shahriman and he is sore sick
and lieth strown on his couch restless alway, eating not nor
drinking neither sleeping night or day; indeed he is nigh upon
death and we have lost hope of his living and are certain that he
is dying. Beware lest thou look too long on him, or thou look on
any other than that where thou settest thy feet: else thou art a
lost man, and I also." He replied, "Allah upon thee, O Wazir, I
implore thee, of thy favour, acquaint me touching this youth thou
describest, what is the cause of the condition in which he is."
The Wazir replied, "I know none, save that, three years ago, his
father required him to wed, but he refused; whereat the King was
wroth and imprisoned him. And when he awoke on the morrow, he
fancied that during the night he had been roused from sleep and
had seen by his side a young lady of passing loveliness, whose
charms tongue can never express; and he assured us that he had
plucked off her seal-ring from her finger and had put it on his
own and that she had done likewise; but we know not the secret of
all this business. So by Allah, O my son, when thou comest up
with me into the palace, look not on the Prince, but go thy way;
for the Sultan's heart is full of wrath against me." So said
Marzawan to himself, "By Allah; this is the one I sought!" Then
he followed the Wazir up to the palace, where the Minister seated
himself at the Prince's feet; but Marzawan found forsooth nothing
to do but go up to Kamar al-Zaman and stand before him at gaze.
Upon this the Wazir, died of affright in his skin, and kept
looking at Marzawan and signalling him to wend his way; but he
feigned not to see him and gave not over gazing upon Kamar al-
Zaman, till he was well assured that it was indeed he whom he was
seeking,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.

     When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Marzawan looked upon Kamar al-Zaman and knew that it was indeed
he whom he was seeking, he cried, "Exalted be Allah, Who hath
made his shape even as her shape and his complexion as her
complexion and his cheek as her cheek!'' Upon this Kamar al-Zaman
opened his eyes and gave earnest ear to his speech; and, when
Marzawan saw him inclining to hear, he repeated these
couplets[FN#287],

"I see thee full of song and plaint and love's own ecstasy;
Delighting in describing all the charms of loveliness:

Art smit by stroke of Love or hath shaft-shot wounded thee?
None save the wounded ever show such signals of distress!

Ho thou! crown the wine cup and sing me singular
Praises to Sulaymá, Al-Rabáb, Tan'oum addrest;[FN#288]

Go round the grape-vine sun[FN#289] which for mansion hath a jar;
Whose East the cup boy is, and here my mouth that opes for West.

I'm jealous of the very clothes that dare her sides enroll
When she veils her dainty body of the delicatest grace:

I envy every goblet of her lips that taketh toll
When she sets the kissing cup on that sweetest kissing-place.

But deem not by the keen-edged scymitar I'm slain--
The hurts and harms I dree are from arrows of her eyes.

I found her finger tips, as I met her once again,
Deep-reddened with the juice of the wood that ruddy dyes;[FN#290]

And cried, 'Thy palms thou stainedst when far away was I
And this is how thou payest one distracted by his pine!'

Quoth she (enkindling in my heart a flame that burned high
Speaking as one who cannot hide of longing love the sign),

'By thy life, this is no dye used for dyeing; so forbear
Thy blame, nor in charging me with falsing Love persist!

But when upon our parting-day I saw thee haste to fare,
The while were bared my hand and my elbow and my wrist;

'I shed a flood of blood-red tears and with fingers brushed away;
Hence blood-reddened were the tips and still blood-red they
     remain.'

Had I wept before she wept, to my longing-love a prey,
Before repentance came, I had quit my soul of pain;

But she wept before I wept and I wept to see her care
And I said, 'All the merit to precedent;'[FN#291]

Blame me not for loving her, now on self of Love I swear
For her sake, for her only, these pains my soul torment.

She hath all the lere of Lukmán[FN#292] and Yúsuf's beauty lief;
Sweet singer David's voice and Maryam's chastity:

While I've all Jacob's mourning and Jonah's prison-grief,
And the sufferings of Job and old Adam's history:

Yet kill her not, albeit of my love for her I die;
But ask her why my blood to her was lawful. ask her why?"

When Marzawan recited this ode, the words fell upon Kamar al-
Zaman's heart as freshness after fever and returning health; and
he sighed and, turning his tongue in his mouth, said to his sire,
"O my father, let this youth come and sit by my side."--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman said to his sire, "O my father, allow this youth to come
and sit by my side." Now when the King heard these words from his
son, he rejoiced with exceeding joy, though at the first his
heart had been set against Marzawan and he had determined that
the stranger's head needs must be stricken off: but when he heard
Kamar al-Zaman speak, his anger left him and he arose and drawing
Marzawan to him, seated him by his son and turning to him said,
"Praised be Allah for thy safety!" He replied, "Allah preserve
thee! and preserve thy son to thee!" and called down blessings on
the King. Then the King asked, "From what country art thou?"; and
he answered, "From the Islands of the Inland Sea, the kingdom of
King Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and the Seas and the Seven
Palaces." Quoth King Shahriman, "Maybe thy coming shall be
blessed to my son and Allah vouchsafe to heal what is in him."
Quoth Marzawan, "Inshallah, naught shall be save what shall be
well!" Then turning to Kamar al-Zaman, he said to him in his ear
unheard of the King and his court, 'O my lord! be of good cheer,
and hearten thy heart and let shine eyes be cool and clear and,
with respect to her for whose sake thou art thus, ask not of her
case on shine account. But thou keptest thy secret and fellest
sick, while she told her secret and they said she had gone mad;
so she is now in prison, with an iron chain about her neck, in
most piteous plight; but, Allah willing, the healing of both of
you shall come from my hand." Now when Kamar al-Zaman heard these
words, his life returned to him and he took heart and felt a
thrill of joy and signed to his father to help him sit up; and
the King was like to fly for gladness and rose hastily and lifted
him up. Presently, of his fear for his son, he shook the kerchief
of dismissal[FN#293]; and all the Emirs and Wazirs withdrew; then
he set two pillows for his son to lean upon, after which he bade
them perfume the palace with saffron and decorate the city,
saying to Marzawan, "By Allah, O my son, of a truth shine aspect
be a lucky and a blessed!" And he made as much of him as he might
and called for food, and when they brought it, Marzawan came up
to the Prince and said, "Rise, eat with me." So he obeyed him and
ate with him, and all the while the King invoked blessings on
Marzawan and said, "How auspicious is thy coming, O my son!" And
when the father saw his boy eat, his joy and gladness redoubled,
and he went out and told the Prince's mother and all the
household. Then he spread throughout the palace the good news of
the Prince's recovery and the King commanded the decoration of
the city and it was a day of high festival. Marzawan passed that
night with Kamar al-Zaman, and the King also slept with them in
joy and delight for his son's recovery.--And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the One Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that King
Shahriman also passed that night with them in the excess of his
joy for his son's recovery. And when the next morning dawned, and
the King had gone away and the two young men were left alone,
Kamar al-Zaman told his story from beginning to end to Marzawan
who said, "In very sooth I know her with whom thou didst
foregather; her name is the Princess Budur and she is daughter to
King Ghayur." Then he related to him all that had passed with the
Princess from first to last and acquainted him with the excessive
love she bore him, saying, "All that befel thee with thy father
hath befallen her with hers, and thou art without doubt her
beloved, even as she is shine; so brace up thy resolution and
take heart, for I will bring thee to her and unite you both anon
and deal with you even as saith the poet,

"Albe to lover adverse be his love, *
     And show aversion howso may he care;
Yet will I manage that their persons[FN#294] meet, *
     E'en as the pivot of a scissor pair."

And he ceased not to comfort and solace and encourage Kamar al-
Zaman and urged him to eat and drink till he ate food and drank
wine, and life returned to him and he was saved from his ill
case; and Marzawan cheered him and diverted him with talk and
songs and stories, and in good time he became free of his
disorder and stood up and sought to go to the Hammam.[FN#295] So
Marzawan took him by the hand and both went to the bath, where
they washed their bodies and made them clean.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

              When it was the Two Hundredth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar
al-Zaman, son of King Shahriman, went to the Hammam, his father
in his joy at this event freed the prisoners, and presented
splendid dresses to his grandees and bestowed large alm-gifts
upon the poor and bade decorate the city seven days. Then quoth
Marzawan to Kamar al-Zaman, "Know, O my lord, that I came not
from the Lady Budur save for this purpose, and the object of my
journey was to deliver her from her present case; and it
remaineth for us only to devise how we may get to her, since thy
father cannot brook the thought of parting from thee. So it is my
counsel that to-morrow thou ask his leave to go abroad hunting.
Then do thou take with thee a pair of saddle-bags full of money
and mount a swift steed, and lead a spare horse, and I will do
the like, and say to thy sire, 'I have a mind to divert myself
with hunting the desert and to see the open country and there to
pass one night.' Suffer not any servant to follow us, for as soon
as we reach the open country, we will go our ways." Kamar al-
Zaman rejoiced in this plan with great joy and cried, "It is
good." Then he stiffened his back and, going in to his father,
sought his leave and spoke as he had been taught, and the King
consented to his going forth a-hunting and said, "O my son,
blessed be the day that restoreth thee to health! I will not
gainsay thee in this; but pass not more than one night in the
desert and return to me on the morrow; for thou knowest that life
is not good to me without thee, and indeed I can hardly believe
thee to be wholly recovered from what thou hadst,[FN#296] because
thou art to me as he of whom quoth the poet,

'Albe by me I had through day and night *
     Solomon's carpet and the Chosroes' might,
Both were in value less than wing of gnat, *
     Unless these eyne could hold thee aye in sight.'"[FN#297]

Then the King equipped his son Kamar al-Zaman and Marzawan for
the excursion, bidding make ready for them four horses, together
with a dromedary to carry the money and a camel to bear the water
and belly timber; and Kamar al-Zaman forbade any of his
attendants to follow him. His father farewelled him and pressed
him to his breast and kissed him, saying, "I ask thee in the name
of Allah, be not absent from me more than one night, wherein
sleep will be unlawful to me, for I am even as saith the poet,

'Thou present, in the Heaven of heavens I dwell; *
     Bearing shine absence is of hells my Hell:
Pledged be for thee my soul! If love for thee *
     Be crime, my crime is of the fellest fell.
Does love-lowe burn thy heart as burns it mine, *
     Doomed night and day Gehenna-fire to smell?'"

Answered Kamar al-Zaman, "O my father, Inshallah, I will lie
abroad but one night!" Then he took leave of him, and he and
Marzawan mounted and leading the spare horses, the dromedary with
the money and the camel with the water and victual, turned their
faces towards the open country;--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawning day and ceased saying her permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and First Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman and Marzawan fared forth and turned their faces towards the
open country; and they travelled from the first of the day till
nightfall, when they halted and ate and drank and fed their
beasts and rested awhile; after which they again took horse and
ceased not journeying for three days, and on the fourth they came
to a spacious tract wherein was a thicket. They alighted in it
and Marzawan, taking the camel and one of the horses, slaughtered
them and cut off their flesh and stripped their bones. Then he
doffed from Kamar al-Zaman his shirt and trousers which he
smeared with the horse's blood and he took the Prince's coat
which he tore to shreds and befouled with gore; and he cast them
down in the fork of the road. Then they ate and drank and
mounting set forward again; and, when Kamar al- Zaman asked why
this was done, and said, "What is this O my brother, and how
shall it profit us?"; Marzawan replied, "Know that thy father,
when we have outstayed the second night after the night for which
we had his leave, and yet we return not, will mount and follow in
our track till he come hither; and, when he happeneth upon this
blood which I have spilt and he seeth thy shirt and trousers rent
and gore-fouled, he will fancy that some accident befel thee from
bandits or wild-beasts, so he will give up hope of thee and
return to his city, and by this device we shall win our wishes."
Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, "By Allah, this be indeed a rare device!
Thou hast done right well.''[FN#298] Then the two fared on days
and nights and all that while Kamar al-Zaman did naught but
complain when he found himself alone, and he ceased not weeping
till they drew near their journeys end, when he rejoiced and
repeated these verses,

"Wilt tyrant play with truest friend who thinks of thee each
     hour, * And after showing love-desire betray indifference?
May I forfeit every favour if in love I falsed thee, *
     If thee I left, abandon me by way of recompense:
But I've been guilty of no crime such harshness to deserve, *
     And if I aught offended thee I bring my penitence;
Of Fortune's wonders one it is thou hast abandoned me, *
     But Fortune never wearieth of showing wonderments."

When he had made an end of his verses, Marzawan said to him,
"Look! these be King Ghayur's Islands;" whereat Kamar al-Zaman
joyed with exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had done,
and kissed him between the eyes and strained him--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

         When it was the Two Hundred and Second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Marzawan said "Look! these be the Islands of King Ghayur;" Kamar
al-Zaman joyed with exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had
done and kissed him between the eyes and strained him to his
bosom. And after reaching the Islands and entering the city they
took up their lodging in a khan, where they rested three days
from the fatigues of their wayfare; after which Marzawan carried
Kamar al-Zaman to the bath and, clothing him in merchant's gear,
provided him with a geomantic tablet of gold,[FN#299] with a set
of astrological instruments and with an astrolabe of silver,
plated with gold. Then he said to him, "Arise, O my lord, and
take thy stand under the walls of the King's palace and cry out,
'I am the ready Reckoner; I am the Scrivener; I am he who weeteth
the Sought and the Seeker; I am the finished man of Science; I am
the Astrologer accomplished in experience! Where then is he that
seeketh?' As soon as the King heareth this, he will send after
thee and carry thee in to his daughter the Princess Budur, thy
lover; but when about going in to her do thou say to him, 'Grant
me three days' delay, and if she recover, give her to me to wife;
and if not, deal with me as thou dealest with those who forewent
me.' He will assuredly agree to this, so as soon as thou art
alone with her, discover thyself to her; and when she seeth thee,
she will recover strength and her madness will cease from her and
she will be made whole in one night. Then do thou give her to eat
and drink. and her father, rejoicing in her recovery, will marry
thee to her and share his kingdom with thee; for he hath imposed
on himself this condition and so peace be upon thee." Now when
Kamar al-Zaman heard these words he exclaimed, "May I never lack
thy benefits!", and, taking the set of instruments aforesaid,
sallied forth from the caravanserai in the dress of his order. He
walked on till he stood under the walls of King Ghayur's palace,
where he began to cry out, saying, "I am the Scribe, I am the
ready Reckoner, I am he who knoweth the Sought and the Seeker; I
am he who openeth the Volume and summeth up the Sums;[FN#300] who
Dreams can expound whereby the sought is found! Where then is the
seeker?" Now when the city people heard this, they flocked to
him, for it was long since they had seen Scribe or Astrologer,
and they stood round him and, looking upon him, they saw one in
the prime of beauty and grace and perfect elegance, and they
marvelled at his loveliness, and his fine stature and symmetry.
Presently one of them accosted him and said, "Allah upon thee, O
thou fair and young, with the eloquent tongue! incur not this
affray; nor throw thy life away in thine ambition to marry the
Princess Budur. Only cast shine eyes upon yonder heads hung up;
all their owners have lost their lives in this same venture." Yet
Kamar al-Zaman paid no heed to them, but cried out at the top of
his voice, saying, "I am the Doctor, the Scrivener! I am the
Astrologer, the Calculator!" And all the townsfolk forbade him
from this, but he regarded them not at all, saying in his mind,
"None knoweth desire save whoso suffereth it." Then he began
again to cry his loudest, shouting, "I am the Scrivener, I am the
Astrologer!"--And Shahrazad per ceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and Third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman in no wise heeded the words of the citizens, but continued
to cry out, "I am the Calculator! I am the Astrologer!" Thereupon
all the townsfolk were wroth with him and said to him, "Thou art
nothing but an imbecile, silly, self-willed lad! Have pity on
shine own youth and tender years and beauty and loveliness." But
he cried all the more, "I am the Astrologer, I am the Calculator!
Is there any one that seeketh?" As he was thus crying and the
people forbidding him, behold, King Ghayur heard his voice and
the clamour of the lieges and said to his Wazir, "Go down and
bring me yon Astrologer." So the Wazir, went down in haste, and
taking Kamar al-Zaman from the midst of the crowd led him up to
the King; and when in the presence he kissed the ground and began
versifying,

"Eight glories meet, all, all conjoined in thee, *
     Whereby may Fortune aye thy servant be:
Lere, lordliness, grace, generosity; *
     Plain words, deep meaning, honour, victory!"

When the King looked upon him, he seated him by his side and said
to him, "By Allah, O my son, an thou be not an astrologer,
venture not thy life nor comply with my condition; for I have
bound myself that whoso goeth in to my daughter and healeth her
not of that which hath befallen her I will strike off his head;
but whoso healeth her him I will marry to her. So let not thy
beauty and loveliness delude thee: for, by Allah! and again, by
Allah! If thou cure her not, I will assuredly cut off thy head."
And Kamar al-Zaman replied, "This is thy right; and I consent,
for I wot of this ere came I hither." Then King Ghayur took the
Kazis to witness against him and delivered him to the eunuch,
saying, "Carry this one to the Lady Budur." So the eunuch took
him by the hand and led him along the passage; but Kamar al-Zaman
outstripped him and pushed on before, whilst the eunuch ran after
him, saying, "Woe to thee! Hasten not to shine own ruin: never
yet saw I astrologer so eager for his proper destruction; but
thou weetest not what calamities are before thee." Thereupon
Kamar al-Zaman turned away his face from the eunuch,--And Shah
razed perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say.

         When it was the Two Hundred and Fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
eunuch thus addressed Kamar al-Zaman, "Patience, and no indecent
hurry!"; the Prince turned away his face and began repeating
these couplets,

"A Sage, I feel a fool before thy charms; *
     Distraught, I wot not what the words I say:
If say I 'Sun,' away thou dost not pass *
     From eyes of me, while suns go down with day:
Thou hast completed Beauty, in whose praise *
     Speech-makers fail, and talkers lose their way."

Then the eunuch stationed Kamar al-Zaman behind the curtain of
the Princess's door and the Prince said to him, "Which of the two
ways will please thee more, treat and cure thy lady from here or
go in and heal her within the curtain?" The eunuch marvelled at
his words and answered, "An thou heal her from here it were
better proof of thy skill." Upon this Kamar al-Zaman sat down
behind the curtain and, taking out ink case, pen and paper, wrote
the following: "This is the writ of one whom passion swayeth,*
and whom longing waylayeth * and wakeful misery slayeth * one who
despaireth of living * and looketh for naught but dying * with
whose mourning heart * nor comforter nor helper taketh part * One
whose sleepless eyes * none succoureth from anxieties * whose day
is passed in fire * and his night in torturing desire * whose
body is wasted for much emaciation * and no messenger from his
beloved bringeth him consolation." And after this he indited the
following couplets,

"I write with heart devoted to thy thought, *
     And eyelids chafed by tears of blood they bled;
And body clad, by loving pine and pain, *
     In shirt of leanness, and worn down to thread,
To thee complain I of Love's tormentry, *
     Which ousted hapless Patience from her stead:
A toi! show favour and some mercy deign, *
     For Passion's cruel hands my vitals shred."

And beneath his lines he wrote these cadenced sentences, "The
heart's pain is removed * by union with the beloved * and whomso
his lover paineth * only Allah assaineth! * If we or you have
wrought deceit * may the deceiver win defeat! * There is naught
goodlier than a lover who keeps faith * with the beloved who
works him scathe." Then, by way of subscription, he wrote, "From
the distracted and despairing man * whom love and longing trepan
* from the lover under passion's ban * the prisoner of transport
and distraction * from this Kamar al-Zaman * son of Shahriman *
to the peerless one * of the fair Houris the pearl-union * to the
Lady Budur * daughter of King Al Ghayur * Know thou that by night
I am sleepless * and by day in distress * consumed with
increasing wasting and pain * and longing and love unfain *
abounding in sighs * with tear flooded eyes * by passion captive
ta'en * of Desire the slain * with heart seared by the parting of
us twain * the debtor of longing bane, of sickness cup-companion
* I am the sleepless one, who never closeth eye * the slave of
love, whose tears run never dry * for the fire of my heart is
still burning * and never hidden is the flame of my yearning."
Then on the margin Kamar al-Zaman wrote this admired verse,

"Salem from graces hoarded by my Lord *
     To her, who holds my heart and soul in hoard!"

And also these,

"Pray'ee grant me some words from your lips, belike *
     Such mercy may comfort and cool these eyne:
From the stress of my love and my pine for you, *
     I make light of what makes me despised, indign:
Allah guard a folk whose abode was far, *
     And whose secret I kept in the holiest shrine:
Now Fortune in kindness hath favoured me *
     Thrown on threshold dust of this love o' mine:
By me bedded I looked on Budúr, whose sun *
     The moon of my fortunes hath made to shine."

Then, having affixed his seal-ring to the missive, he wrote these
couplets in the place of address,

"Ask of my writ what wrote my pen in dole, *
     And hear my tale of misery from this scroll;
My hand is writing while my tears down flow, *
     And to the paper 'plains my longing soul:
My tears cease not to roll upon this sheet, *
     And if they stopped I'd cause blood-gouts to roll."

And at the end he added this other verse,

"I've sent the ring from off thy finger bore *
     I when we met, now deign my ring restore!"

Then Kamar al-Zaman set the Lady Budur's ring inside the letter
and sealed it and gave it to the eunuch, who took it and went in
with it to his mistress.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased to say her permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and Fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman, after setting the seal-ring inside the epistle, gave it to
the eunuch who took it and went in with it to his mistress; and,
when the Lady Budur opened it, she found therein her own very
ring. Then she read the paper and when she understood its purport
and knew that it was from her beloved, and that he in person
stood behind the curtain, her reason began to fly and her breast
swelled for joy and rose high; and she repeated these couplets,

"Long, long have I bewailed the sev'rance of our loves, *
     With tears that from my lids streamed down like burning
     rain;
And vowed that, if the days deign reunite us two, *
     My lips should never speak of severance again:
Joy hath o'erwhelmed me so that, for the very stress *
     Of that which gladdens me to weeping I am fain.
Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, *
     So that ye weep as well for gladness as for pain.''[FN#301]

And having finished her verse, the Lady Budur stood up forthwith
and, firmly setting her feet to the wall, strained with all her
might upon the collar of iron, till she brake it from her neck
and snapped the chains. Then going forth from behind the curtain
she threw herself on Kamar al-Zaman and kissed him on the mouth,
like a pigeon feeding its young.[FN#302] And she embraced him
with all the stress of her love and longing and said to him, "O
my lord do I wake or sleep and hath the Almighty indeed
vouchsafe] us reunion after disunion? Laud be to Allah who hath
our loves repaired, even after we despaired!" Now when the eunuch
saw her in this case, he went off running to King Ghayur and,
kissing the ground before him, said, "O my lord, know that this
Astrologer is indeed the Shaykh of all astrologers, who are fools
to him, all of them; for verily he hath cured thy daughter while
standing behind the curtain and without going in to her." Quoth
the King, "Look well to it, is this news true?" Answered the
eunuch, "O my lord, rise and come and see for thyself how she
hath found strength to break the iron chains and is come forth to
the Astrologer, kissing and embracing him." Thereupon the King
arose and went in to his daughter who, when she saw him, stood up
in haste and covered her head,[FN#303] and recited these two
couplets,

"The toothstick love I not; for when I say, *
     'Siwák,'[FN#304] I miss thee, for it sounds 'Siwá-ka'.
The caper-tree I love; for when I say, *
     'Arák'[FN#305] it sounds I look on thee, 'Ará-ka.'"

Thereupon the King was so transported for joy at her recovery
that he felt like to fly and kissed her between the eyes, for he
loved her with dearest love; then, turning to Kamar al-Zaman, he
asked him who he was, and said, "What countryman art thou?" So
the Prince told him his name and rank, and informed him that he
was the son of King Shahriman, and presently related to him the
whole story from beginning to end; and acquainted him with what
happened between himself and the Lady Budur; and how he had taken
her seal-ring from her finger and had placed it on his own;
whereat Ghayur marvelled and said, "Verily your story deserveth
in books to be chronicled, and when you are dead and gone age
after age be read." Then he summoned Kazis and witnesses
forthright and married the Lady Budur to Prince Kamar al-Zaman;
after which he bade decorate the city seven days long. So they
spread the tables with all manner of meats, whilst the drums beat
and the criers anounced the glad tidings, and all the troops
donned their richest clothes; and they illuminated the city and
held high festival. Then Kamar al-Zaman went in to the Lady Budur
and the King rejoiced in her recovery and in her marriage; and
praised Allah for that He had made her to fall in love with a
goodly youth of the sons of Kings. So they unveiled her and
displayed the bride before the bridegroom; and both were the
living likeness of each other in beauty and comeliness and grace
and love-allurement. Then Kamar al-Zaman lay with her that night
and took his will of her, whilst she in like manner fulfilled her
desire of him and enjoyed his charms and grace; and they slept in
each other's arms till the morning. On the morrow, the King made
a wedding-feast to which he gathered all comers from the Islands
of the Inner and Outer Seas, and he spread the tables with
choicest viands nor ceased the banquetting for a whole month. Now
when Kamar al-Zaman had thus fulfilled his will and attained his
inmost desire, and whenas he had tarried awhile with the Princess
Budur, he bethought him of his father, King Shahriman, and saw
him in a dream, saying, "O my son, is it thus thou dealest with
me?" and recited in the vision these two couplets,

"Indeed to watch the darkness-moon he blighted me, *
     And to star-gaze through longsome night he plighted me:
Easy, my heart! for haply he'll unite with thee; *
     And patience, Sprite! with whatso ills he dight to thee."

Now after seeing his father in the dream and hearing his re
preaches, Kamar al-Zaman awoke in the morning, afflicted and
troubled, whereupon the Lady Budur questioned him and he told her
what he had seen.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and Sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar
al-Zaman acquainted the Lady Budur with what he had seen in his
dream, she and he went in to her sire and, telling him what had
passed, besought his leave to travel. He gave the Prince the
permission he sought; but the Princess said, "O my father, I
cannot bear to be parted from him." Quoth Ghayur, her sire, "Then
go thou with him," and gave her leave to be absent a whole
twelvemonth and afterwards to visit him in every year once; so
she kissed his hand and Kamar al-Zaman did the like. Thereupon
King Ghayur proceeded to equip his daughter and her bridegroom
for the journey, and furnished them with outfit and appointments
for the march; and brought out of his stables horses marked with
his own brand, blood-dromedaries[FN#306] which can journey ten
days without water, and prepared a litter for his daughter,
besides loading mules and camels with victual; moreover, he gave
them slaves and eunuchs to serve them and all manner of
travellinggear; and on the day of departure, when King Ghayur
took leave of Kamar al-Zaman, he bestowed on him ten splendid
suits of cloth of gold embroidered with stones of price, together
with ten riding horses and ten she-camels, and a treasury of
money;[FN#307] and he charged him to love and cherish his
daughter the Lady Budur. Then the King accompanied them to the
farthest limits of his Islands where, going in to his daughter
Budur in the litter, he kissed her and strained her to his bosom,
weeping and repeating,

"O thou who wooest Severance, easy fare! *
     For love-embrace belongs to lover-friend:
Fare softly! Fortune's nature falsehood is, *
     And parting shall love's every meeting end."

Then leaving his daughter, he went to her husband and bade him
farewell and kissed him; after which he parted from them and,
giving the order for the march he returned to his capital with
his troops. The Prince and Princess and their suite fared on
without stopping through the first day and the second and the
third and the fourth, nor did they cease faring for a whole month
till they came to a spacious champaign, abounding in pasturage,
where they pitched their tents; and they ate and drank and
rested, and the Princess Budur lay down to sleep. Presently,
Kamar al-Zaman went in to her and found her lying asleep clad in
a shift of apricot-coloured silk that showed all and everything;
and on her head was a coif of gold-cloth embroidered with pearls
and jewels. The breeze raised her shift which laid bare her navel
and showed her breasts and displayed a stomach whiter than snow,
each one of whose dimples would contain an ounce of benzoin-
ointment.[FN#308] At this sight, his love and longing redoubled,
and he began reating,

"An were it asked me when by hell-fire burnt, *
     When flames of heart my vitals hold and hem,
'Which wouldst thou chose, say wouldst thou rather them, *
     Or drink sweet cooling draught?' I'd answer, 'Them!' "

Then he put his hand to the band of her petticoat-trousers and
drew it and loosed it, for his soul lusted after her, when he saw
a jewel, red as dye-wood, made fast to the band. He untied it and
examined it and, seeing two lines of writing graven thereon, in a
character not to be read, marvelled and said in his mind, "Were
not this bezel something to her very dear she had not bound it to
her trousers-band nor hidden it in the most privy and precious
place about her person, that she might not be parted from it.
Would I knew what she cloth with this and what is the secret that
is in it." So saying, he took it and went outside the tent to
look at it in the light,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day, and ceased to say her permitted say.

         When it was the Two Hundred and Seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when he
took the bezel to look at it in the light, the while he was
holding it behold, a bird swooped down on him and, snatching the
same from his hand, flew off with it and then lighted on the
ground. There-upon Kamar al-Zaman fearing to lose the jewel, ran
after the bird; but it flew on before him, keeping just out of
his reach, and ceased not to draw him on from dale to dale and
from hill to hill, till the night starkened and the firmament
darkened, when it roosted on a high tree. So Kamar al-Zaman
stopped under the tree confounded in thought and faint for famine
and fatigue, and giving himself up for lost, would have turned
back, but knew not the way whereby he came, for that darkness had
overtaken him. Then he exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there
is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious the Great!"; and laying
him down under the tree (whereon was the bird) slept till the
morning, when he awoke and saw the bird also wake up and fly
away. He arose and walked after it, and it flew on little by
little before him, after the measure of his faring; at which he
smiled and said, "By Allah, a strange thing! Yesterday, this bird
flew before me as fast as I could run, and to-day, knowing that I
have awoke tired and cannot run, he flieth after the measure of
my faring. By Allah, this is wonderful! But I must needs follow
this bird whether it lead me to death or to life; and I will go
wherever it goeth, for at all events it will not abide save in
some inhabited land.[FN#309] So he continued to follow the bird
which roosted every night upon a tree; and he ceased not pursuing
it for a space of ten days, feeding on the fruits of the earth
and drinking of its waters. At the end of this time, he came in
sight of an inhabited city, whereupon the bird darted off like
the glance of the eye and, entering the town, disappeared from
Kamar al-Zaman, who knew not what it meant or whither it was
gone; so he marvelled at this and exclaimed, "Praise be to Allah
who hath brought me in safety to this city!" Then he sat down by
a stream and washed his hands and feet and face and rested
awhile; and, recalling his late easy and pleasant life of union
with his beloved and contrasting it with his present plight of
trouble and fatigue and distress and strangerhood and famine and
severance, the tears streamed from his eyes and he began
repeating these cinquains,

"Pain had I hid thy handwork, but it showed, *
     Changed sleep for wake, and wake with me abode:
When thou didst spurn my heart I cried aloud *
     Pate, hold thy hand and cease to gird and goad:
          In dole and danger aye my sprite I spy!

An but the Lord of Love were just to me, *
     Sleep fro' my eyelids ne'er were forced to flee.
Pity, my lady, one for love o' thee *
     Prom his tribes darling brought to low degree:
          Love came and doomed Wealth beggar-death to die.

The railers chide at thee: I ne'er gainsay, *
     But stop my ears and dumbly sign them Nay:
'Thou lov'st a slender may,' say they; I say, *
     'I've picked her out and cast the rest away:'
          Enough; when Fate descends she blinds man's
          eye!"[FN#310]

And as soon as he had finished his poetry and had taken his rest,
he rose and walked on little by little, till he entered the
city.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

         When it was the Two Hundred and Eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as
Kamar al-Zaman had finished his poetry and had taken his rest, he
arose and entered the city-gate[FN#311] not knowing whither he
should wend. He crossed the city from end to end, entering by the
land-gate, and ceased not faring on till he came out at the sea-
gate, for the city stood on the sea-shore. Yet he met not a
single one of its citizens. And after issuing from the land-gate
he fared forwards and ceased not faring till he found himself
among the orchards and gardens of the place; and, passing among
the trees presently came to a garden and stopped before its door;
where-upon the keeper came out to him and saluted him. The Prince
returned his greeting and the gardener bade him welcome, saying,
"Praised be Allah that thou hast come off safe from the dwellers
of this city! Quick, come into the garth, ere any of the townfolk
see thee." Thereupon Kamar al-Zaman entered that garden,
wondering in mind, and asked the keeper, "What may be the history
of the people of this city and who may they be?" The other
answered, "Know that the people of this city are all Magians: but
Allah upon thee, tell me how thou camest to this city and what
caused thy coming to our capital." Accordingly Kamar al-Zaman
told the gardener all that had befallen him from beginning to
end, whereat he marvelled with great marvel and said, "Know, O my
son, that the cities of Al-Islam lie far from us; and between us
and them is a four months' voyage by sea and a whole twelve
months' journey by land. We have a ship which saileth every year
with merchandise to the nearest Moslem country and which entereth
the seas of the Ebony Islands and thence maketh the Khalidan
Islands, the dominions of King Shahriman." Thereupon Kamar al-
Zaman considered awhile and concluded that he could not do better
than abide in the garden with the gardener and become his
assistant, receiving for pay one fourth of the produce. So he
said to him, "Wilt thou take me into thy service, to help thee in
this garden?" Answered the gardener, "To hear is to consent;" and
began teaching him to lead the water to the roots of the trees.
So Kamar al-Zaman abode with him, watering the trees and hoeing
up the weeds and wearing a short blue frock which reached to his
knees. And he wept floods of tears; for he had no rest day or
night, by reason of his strangerhood and he ceased not to repeat
verses upon his beloved, amongst others the following couplets,

"Ye promised us and will ye not keep plight? *
     Ye said a say and shall not deed be dight?
We wake for passion while ye slumber and sleep; *
     Watchers and wakers claim not equal right:
We vowed to keep our loves in secrecy, *
     But spake the meddler and you spoke forthright:
O friend in pain and pleasure, joy and grief, *
     In all case you, you only, claim my sprite!
Mid folk is one who holds my prisoned heart; *
     Would he but show some ruth for me to sight.
Not every eye like mine is wounded sore, *
     Not every heart like mine love-pipings blight:
Ye wronged me saying, Love is wrongous aye *
     Yea! ye were right, events have proved that quite.
Forget they one love-thralled, whose faith the world *
     Robs not, though burn the fires in heart alight:
If an my foeman shall become my judge, *
     Whom shall I sue to remedy his despight?
Had not I need of love nor love had sought, *
     My heart forsure were not thus love-distraught."

Such was the case with Kamar al-Zaman; but as regards his wife,
the Lady Budur, when she awoke she sought her husband and found
him not: then she saw her petticoat-trousers undone, for the band
had been loosed and the bezel lost, whereupon she said to
herself, "By Allah, this is strange! Where is my husband? It
would seem as if he had taken the talisman and gone away, knowing
not the secret which is in it. Would to Heaven I knew whither can
he have wended! But it must needs have been some extraordinary
matter that drew him away, for he cannot brook to leave me a
moment. Allah curse the stone and damn its hour!" Then she
considered awhile and said in her mind, "If I go out and tell the
varlets and let them learn that my husband is lost they will lust
after me: there is no help for it but that I use stratagem. So
she rose and donned some of her husband's clothes and riding-
boots, and a turband like his, drawing one corner of it across
her face for a mouth-veil.[FN#312] Then, setting a slave-girl in
her litter, she went forth from the tent and called to the pages
who brought her Kamar al-Zaman's steed; and she mounted and bade
them load the beasts and resume the march. So they bound on the
burdens and departed; and she concealed her trick, none doubting
but she was Kamar al-Zaman, for she favoured him in face and
form; nor did she cease journeying, she and her suite, days and
nights, till they came in sight of a city overlooking the Salt
Sea, where they pitched their tents without the walls and halted
to rest. The Princess asked the name of the town and was told,
"It is called the City of Ebony; its King is named Armanús, and
he hath a daughter Hayát al-Nufús[FN#313] hight,"--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and Ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Lady Budur halted within sight of the Ebony City to take her
rest, King Armanus sent a messenger, to learn what King it was
who had encamped without his capital; so the messenger, coming to
the tents, made inquiry anent their King, and was told that she
was a King's son who had lost the way being bound for the
Khalidan Islands; whereupon he returned to King Armanus with the
tidings; and, when the King heard them, he straightway rode out
with the lords of his land to greet the stranger on arrival. As
he drew near the tents the Lady Budur came to meet him on foot,
whereupon the King alighted and they saluted each other. Then he
took her to the city and, bringing her up to the palace, bade
them spread the tables and trays of food and commanded them to
transport her company and baggage to the guess house. So they
abode there three days; at the end of which time the King came in
to the Lady Budur. Now she had that day gone to the Hammam and
her face shone as the moon at its full, a seduction to the world
and a rending of the veil of shame to mankind; and Armanus found
her clad in a -suit of silk, embroidered with gold and jewels; so
he said to her, 'O my son, know that I am a very old man,
decrepit withal, and Allah hath blessed me with no child save one
daughter, who resembleth thee in beauty and grace; and I am now
waxed unfit for the conduct of the state. She is shine, O my son;
and, if this my land please thee and thou be willing to abide and
make thy home here, I will marry thee to her and give thee my
kingdom and so be at rest." When Princess Budur heard this, she
bowed her head and her forehead sweated for shame, and she said
to herself. "How shall I do, and I a woman? If I refuse and
depart from him, I cannot be safe but that haply send after me
troops to slay me; and if I consent, belike I shall be put to
shame. I have lost my beloved Kamar al-Zaman and know not what is
become of him; nor can I escape from this scrape save by holding
my peace and consenting and abiding here, till Allah bring about
what is to be." So she raised her head and made submission to
King Armanus, saying, "Hearkening and obedience!"; whereat he
rejoiced and bade the herald make proclamation throughout the
Ebony Islands to hold high festival and decorate the houses. Then
he assembled his Chamberlains and Nabobs, and Emirs and Wazirs
and his officers of state and the Kazis of the city; and,
formally abdicating his Sultanate, endowed Budur therewith and
invested her in all the vestments of royalty. The Emirs and
Grandees went in to her and did her homage, nothing doubting but
that she was a young man, and all who looked on her bepissed
their bag-trousers, for the excess of her beauty and loveliness.
Then, after the Lady Budur had been made Sultan and the drums had
been beaten in announcement of the glad event, and she had been
ceremoniously enthroned, King Armanus proceeded to equip his
daughter Hayat al-Nufus for marriage, and in a few days, they
brought the Lady Budur in to her, when they seemed as it were two
moons risen at one time or two suns in conjunction. So they
entered the bridal-chamber and the doors were shut and the
curtains let down upon them, after the attendants had lighted the
wax-candles and spread for them the carpet-bed. When Budur found
herself alone with the Princess Hayat al-Nufus, she called to
mind her beloved Kamar al-Zaman and grief was sore upon her. So
she wept for his absence, and estrangement and she began
repeating,

"O ye who fled and left my heart in pain low li'en, *
     No breath of life if found within this frame of mine:
I have an eye which e'er complains of wake, but lo! *
     Tears occupy it would that wake content these eyne!
After ye marched forth the lover 'bode behind; *
     Question of him what pains your absence could design!
But for the foods of tears mine eyelids rail and rain, *
     My fires would flame on high and every land calcine.
To Allah make I moan of loved ones lost for aye, *
     Who for my pine and pain no more shall pain and pine:
I never wronged them save that over love I nurst: *
     But Love departs us lovers into blest and curst."

And when she had finished her repeating, the Lady Budur sat down
beside the Princess Hayat al-Nufus and kissed her on the mouth;
after which rising abruptly, she made the minor ablution and
betook herself to her devotions; nor did she leave praying till
Hayat al-Nufus fell asleep, when she slips into bed and lay with
her back to her till morning. And when day had broke the King and
Queen came in to their daughter and asked her how she did.
whereupon she told them what she had seen, and repeated to them
the verses she had heard. Thus far concerning Hayat al-Nufus and
her father; but as regards Queen Budur she went forth and seated
herself upon the royal throne and all the Emirs and Captains and
Officers of state came up to her and wished her joy of the
kingship, kissing the earth before her and calling down blessings
upon her. And she accosted them with smiling face and clad them
in robes of honour, augmenting the fiefs of the high officials
and giving largesse to the levies; wherefore all the people loved
her and offered up prayers for the long endurance of her reign,
doubting not but that she was a man. And she ceased not sitting
all day in the hall of audience, bidding and forbidding;
dispensing justice, releasing prisoners and remitting the
customs-dues, till nightfall, when she withdrew to the apartment
prepared for her. Here she found Hayat al-Nufus seated, so she
sat down by her side and, clapping her on the back, coaxed and
caressed her and kissed her between the eyes, and fell to
versifying in these couplets,

"What secret kept I these my tears have told, *
     And my waste body must my love unfold:
Though hid my pine, my plight on parting day *
     To every envious eye my secret sold:
O ye who broke up camp, you've left behind *
     My spirit wearied and my heart a-cold:
In my hearts core ye dwell, and now these eyne *
     Roll blood-drops with the tears they whilome rolled:
The absent will I ransom with my soul; *
     All can my yearning for their sight behold:
I have an eye whose babe,[FN#314] for love of thee, *
     Rejected sleep nor hath its tears controlled.
The foeman bids me patient bear his loss, *
     Ne'er may mine ears accept the ruth he doled!
I tricks their deme of me, and won my wish *
     Of Kamar al-Zaman's joys manifold:
He joins all perfect gifts like none before, *
     Boasted such might and main no King of old:
Seeing his gifts, Bin Zá'idah's[FN#315] largesse *
     Forget we, and Mu'áwiyah mildest-soul'd:[FN#316]
Were verse not feeble and o'er short the time *
     I had in laud of him used all of rhyme."

Then Queen Budur stood up and wiped away her tears and, making
the lesser ablution,[FN#317] applied her to pray: nor did she
give over praying till drowsiness overcame the Lady Hayat al-
Nufus and she slept, whereupon the Lady Budur came and lay by her
till the morning. At daybreak, she arose and prayed the dawn-
prayer; and presently seated herself on the royal throne and
passed the day in ordering and counter ordering and giving laws
and administering justice. This is how it fared with her; but as
regards King Armanus he went in to his daughter and asked her how
she did; so she told him all that had befallen her and repeated
to him the verses which Queen Budur had recited, adding, "O my
father, never saw I one more abounding in sound sense and modesty
than my husband, save that he cloth nothing but weep and sigh."
He answered, "O my daughter, have patience with him yet this
third night, and if he go not in unto thee and do away thy
maidenhead, we shall know how to proceed with him and oust him
from the throne and banish him the country." And on this wise he
agreed with his daughter what course he would take.--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

          When it was the Two Hundred and Tenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King
Armanus had agreed with his daughter on this wise and had
determined what course he would take and night came on, Queen
Budur arose from the throne of her kingdom and betaking herself
to the palace, entered the apartment prepared for her. There she
found the wax-candles lighted and the Princess Hayat al-Nufus
seated and awaiting her; whereupon she bethought her of her
husband and what had betided them both of sorrow and severance in
so short a space; she wept and sighed and groaned groan upon
groan, and began improvising these couplets,

"News of my love fill all the land, I swear, *
     As suns on Ghazá[FN#318]-wold rain heat and glare:
Speaketh his geste but hard its sense to say; *
     Thus never cease to grow my cark and care:
I hate fair Patience since I loved thee; *
     E'er sawest lover hate for love to bear?
A glance that dealt love-sickness dealt me death, *
     Glances are deadliest things with torments rare:
He shook his love locks down and bared his chin, *
     Whereby I spied his beauties dark and fair:
My care, my cure are in his hands; and he *
     Who caused their dolour can their dole repair:
His belt went daft for softness of his waist; *
     His hips, for envy, to uprise forbear:
His brow curl-diademed is murky night; *
     Unveil 't and lo! bright Morn shows brightest light."

When she had finished her versifying, she would have risen to
pray, but, lo and behold! Hayat al-Nufus caught her by the skirt
and clung to her saying, "O my lord, art thou not ashamed before
my father, after all his favour, to neglect me at such a time as
this?" When Queen Budur heard her words, she sat down in the same
place and said, "O my beloved, what is this thou sayest?" She
replied, "What I say is that I never saw any so proud of himself
as thou. Is every fair one so disdainful? I say not this to
incline thee to me; I say it only of my fear for thee from King
Armanus; because he purposeth, unless thou go in unto me this
very night, and do away my maidenhead, to strip thee of the
kingship on the morrow and banish thee his kingdom; and
peradventure his excessive anger may lead him to slay thee. But
I, O my lord, have ruth on thee and give thee fair warning; and
it is thy right to reck."[FN#319] Now when Queen Budur heard her
speak these words, she bowed her head ground-wards awhile in sore
perplexity and said in herself, "If I refuse I'm lost; and if I
obey I'm shamed. But I am now Queen of all the Ebony Islands and
they are under my rule, nor shall I ever again meet my Kamar al-
Zaman save in this place; for there is no way for him to his
native land but through the Ebony Islands. Verily, I know not
what to do in my present case, but I commit my care to Allah who
directeth all for the best, for I am no man that I should arise
and open this virgin girl." Then quoth Queen Budur to Hayat al-
Nufus, "O my beloved, that I have neglected thee and abstained
from thee is in my own despite." And she told her her whole story
from beginning to end and showed her person to her, saying, "I
conjure thee by Allah to keep my counsel, for I have concealed my
case only that Allah may reunite me with my beloved Kamar al-
Zaman and then come what may."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When it was the Two Hundred and Eleventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Lady Budur acquainted Hayat al-Nufus with her history and bade
her keep it secret, the Princess heard her with extreme
wonderment and was moved to pity and prayed Allah to reunite her
with her beloved, saying, "Fear nothing, O my sister; but have
patience till Allah bring to pass that which must come to pass:"
and she began repeating,

"None but the men of worth a secret keep;
With worthy men a secret's hidden deep;
As in a room, so secrets lie with me,
Whose door is sealed, lock shot and lost the key."[FN#320]

And when Hayat al-Nufus had ended her verses, she said, "O my
sister, verily the breasts of the noble and brave are of secrets
the grave; and I will not discover shine." Then they toyed and
embraced and kissed and slept till near the Mu'ezzin's call to
dawn prayer, when Hayat al-Nufus arose and took a
pigeon-poult,[FN#321] and cut its throat over her smock and
besmeared herself with its blood. Then she pulled off her
petticoat-trousers and cried aloud, where-upon her people
hastened to her and raised the usual lullilooing and outcries of
joy and gladness. Presently her mother came in to her and asked
her how she did and busied herself about her and abode with her
till evening; whilst the Lady Budur arose with the dawn, and
repaired to the bath and, after washing herself pure, proceeded
to the hall of audience, where she sat down on her throne and
dispensed justice among the folk. Now when King Armanus heard the
loud cries of joy, he asked what was the matter and was informed
of the consummation of his daughter's marriage; whereat he
rejoiced and his breast swelled with gladness and he made a great
marriage-feast whereof the merry-making lasted a long time. Such
was their case: but as regards King Shahriman it was on this
wise. After his son had fared forth to the chase accompanied by
Marzawan, as before related, he tarried patiently awaiting their
return at nightfall; but when his son did not appear he passed a
sleepless night and the dark hours were longsome upon him; his
restlessness was excessive, his excitement grew upon him and he
thought the morning would never dawn. Anc when day broke he sat
expecting his son and waited till noon, but he came not; whereat
his heart forebode separation and was fired with fears for Kamar
al-Zaman; and he cried, "Alas! my son!" and he wept till his
clothes were drenched with tears, and repeated with a beating
heart,

"Love's votaries I ceased not to oppose, *
     Till doomed to taste Love's bitter and Love's sweet:
I drained his rigour-cup to very dregs, *
     Self humbled at its slaves' and freemen's feet:
Fortune had sworn to part the loves of us; *
     She kept her word how truly, well I weet!"

And when he ended his verse, he wiped away his tears and bade his
troops make ready for a march and prepare for a long expedition.
So they all mounted and set forth, headed by the Sultan, whose
heart burnt with grief and was fired with anxiety for his son
Kamar al-Zaman; and they advanced by forced marches. Now the King
divided his host into six divisions, a right wing and a left
wing, a vanguard and a rear guard;[FN#322] and bade them
rendezvous for the morrow at the cross-roads. Accordingly they
separated and scoured the country all the rest of that day till
night, and they marched through the night and at noon of the
ensuing day they joined company at the place where four roads
met. But they knew not which the Prince followed, till they saw
the sign of torn clothes and sighted shreds of flesh and beheld
blood still sprinkled by the way and they noted every piece of
the clothes and fragment of mangled flesh scattered on all sides.
Now when King Shahriman saw this, he cried from his heart-core a
loud cry, saying, "Alas, my son!"; and buffeted his face and
plucks his beard and rent his raiment, doubting not but his son
was dead. Then he gave himself up to excessive weeping and
wailing, and the troops also wept for his weeping, all being
assured that Prince Kamar al-Zaman had perished. They threw dust
on their heads, and the night surprised them shedding tears and
lamenting till they were like to die. Then the King with a heart
on fire and with burning sighs spake these couplets,

"Chide not the mourner for bemourning woe; *
     Enough is yearning every Ill to show:
He weeps for stress of sorrow and of pain, *
     And these to thee best evidence his lowe:
Happy![FN#323] of whom Love sickness swore that ne'er *
     Should cease his eye lids loving tears to flow:
He mourns the loss of fairest, fullest Moon, *
     Shining o'er all his peers in glorious glow:
But death made drink a brimming cup, what day *
     He fared from natal country fain to go:
His home left he and went from us to grief; *
     Nor to his brethren could he say adieu:
Yea, his loss wounded me with parting pangs, *
     And separation cost me many a throe:
He fared farewelling, as he fared, our eyes; *
     Whenas his Lord vouch-safed him Paradise."

And when King Shahriman had ended his verses, he returned with
the troops to his capital,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased saying her permitted say.

         When it was the Two Hundred and Twelfth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King
Shahriman had ended his verses, he returned with the troops to
his capital, giving up his son for lost, and deeming that wild
beasts or banditti had set upon him and torn him to pieces; and
made proclamation that all in the Khalidan Islands should don
black in mourning for him. Moreover, he built, in his memory, a
pavilion, naming it House of Lamentations; and on Mondays and
Thursdays he devoted himself to the business of the state and
ordering the affairs of his levies and lieges; and the rest of
the week he was wont to spend in the House of Lamentations,
mourning for his son and bewailing him with elegiac
verses,[FN#324] of which the following are some:--

"My day of bliss is that when thou appearest; *
     My day of bale[FN#325] is that whereon thou farest:
Though through the night I quake in dread of death; *
     Union wi' thee is of all bliss the dearest."

And again he said,

"My soul be sacrifice for one, whose going *
     Afflicted hearts with sufferings sore and dread:
Let joy her widowed term[FN#326] fulfil, for I *
     Divorced joy with the divorce thrice-said."[FN#327]

Such was the case with King Shahriman; but as regards Queen Budur
daughter of King Ghayur, she abode as ruler in the Ebony Islands,
whilst the folk would point to her with their fingers, and say,
"Yonder is the son-in-law of King Armanus." And every night she
lay with Hayat al-Nufus, to whom she lamented her desolate state
and longing for her husband Kamar al-Zaman; weeping and
describing to her his beauty and loveliness, and yearning to
enjoy him though but in a dream: And at times she would repeat,

"Well Allah wots that since my severance from thee, *
     I wept till forced to borrow tears at usury:
'Patience!' my blamer cried, 'Heartsease right soon shalt see!' *
     Quoth I, 'Say, blamer, where may home of Patience be?'"

This is how it fared with Queen Budur; but as regards Kamar al-
Zaman, he abode with the gardener in the garden for no short
time, weeping night and day and repeating verses bewailing the
past time of enjoyment and delight; whilst the gardener kept
comforting him and assuring him that the ship would set sail for
the land of the Moslems at the end of the year. And in this
condition he continued till one day he saw the folk crowding
together and wondered at this; but the gardener came in to him
and said, "O my son, give over work for this day nor lead water
to the trees; for it is a festival day, whereon folk visit one
another. So take thy rest and only keep shine eye on the garden,
whilst I go look after the ship for thee; for yet but a little
while and I send thee to the land of the Moslems." Upon this, he
went forth from the garden leaving to himself Kamar al-Zaman, who
fell to musing upon his case till his heart was like to break and
the tears streamed from his eyes. So he wept with excessive
weeping till he swooned away and, when he recovered, he rose and
walked about the garden, pondering what Time had done with him
and bewailing the long endurance of his estrangement and
separation from those he loved. As he was thus absorbed in
melancholy thought, his foot stumbled and he fell on his face,
his forehead striking against the projecting root of a tree; and
the blow cut it open and his blood ran down and mingled with his
tears Then he rose and, wiping away the blood, dried his tears
and bound his brow with a piece of rag; then continued his walk
about the garden engrossed by sad reverie. Presently, he looked
up at a tree and saw two birds quarrelling thereon, and one of
them rose up and smote the other with its beak on the neck and
severed from its body its head, wherewith it flew away, whilst
the slain bird fell to the ground before Kamar al-Zaman. As it
lay, behold, two great birds swooped down upon it alighting, one
at the head and the other at the tail, and both drooped their
wings and bowed their bills over it and, extending their necks
towards it, wept. Kamar al-Zaman also wept when seeing the birds
thus bewail their mate, and called to mind his wife and father,
And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

       When it was the Two Hundred and Thirteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman wept and lamented his separation from spouse and sire, when
he beheld those two birds weeping over their mate. Then he looked
at the twain and saw them dig a grave and therein bury the slain
bird; after which they flew away far into the firmament and
disappeared for a while; but presently they returned with the
murtherer-bird and, alighting on the grave of the murthered,
stamped on the slayer till they had done him to death. Then they
rent his belly and tearing out his entrails, poured the blood on
the grave of the slain[FN#328]: moreover, they stripped off his
skin and tare his flesh in pieces and, pulling out the rest of
the bowels, scattered them hither and thither. All this while
Kamar al-Zaman was watching them wonderingly; but presently,
chancing to look at the place where the two birds had slain the
third, he saw therein something gleaming. So he drew near to it
and noted that it was the crop of the dead bird. Whereupon he
took it and opened it and found the talisman which had been the
cause of his separation from his wife. But when he saw it and
knew it, he fell to the ground a-fainting for joy; and, when he
revived, he said, "Praised be Allah! This is a foretaste of good
and a presage of reunion with my beloved." Then he examined the
jewel and passed it over his eyes[FN#329]; after which he bound
it to his forearm, rejoicing in coming weal, and walked about
till nightfall awaiting the gardener's return; and when he came
not, he lay down and slept in his wonted place. At daybreak he
rose to his work and, girding his middle with a cord of palm-
fibre, took hatchet and basket and walked down the length of the
garden, till he came to a carob-tree and struck the axe into its
roots. The blow rang and resounded; so he cleared away the soil
from the place and discovered a trap-door and raised it.--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

       When It was the Two Hundred and Fourteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Kamar
al-Zaman raised the trap-door, he found a winding stair, which he
descended and came to an ancient vault of the time of Ad and
Thamúd,[FN#330] hewn out of the rock. Round the vault stood many
brazen vessels of the bigness of a great oil-jar which he found
full of gleaming red gold: whereupon he said to himself, "Verily
sorrow is gone and solace is come!" Then he mounted from the
souterrain to the garden and, replacing the trap-door as it was
before, busied himself in conducting water to the trees till the
last of the day, when the gardener came back and said to him, "O
my son, rejoice at the good tidings of a speedy return to thy
native land: the merchants are ready equipped for the voyage and
the ship in three days' time will set sail for the City of Ebony,
which is the first of the cities of the Moslems, and after making
it, thou must travel by land a six months' march till thou come
to the Islands of Khalidan, the dominions of King Shahriman." At
this Kamar al-Zaman rejoiced and began repeating,

"Part not from one whose wont is not to part from you; *
     Nor with your cruel taunts an innocent mortify:
Another so long parted had ta'en heart from you, *
     And had his whole condition changed,--but not so I."

Then he kissed the gardener's hand and said, "O my father, even
as thou hast brought me glad tidings, so I also have great good
news for thee,' and told him anent his discovery of the vault;
whereat the gardener rejoiced and said, "O my son, fourscore
years have I dwelt in this garden and have never hit on aught
whilst thou, who hast not sojourned with me a year, hast
discovered this thing; wherefore it is Heaven's gift to thee,
which shall end thy crosses and aid thee to rejoin thy folk and
foregather with her thou lovest." Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, "There is
no help but it must be shared between me and thee." Then he
carried him to the underground-chamber and showed him the gold,
which was in twenty jars: he took ten and the gardener ten, and
the old man said to him, "O my son, fill thyself leather
bottles[FN#331] with the sparrow-olives[FN#332] which grow in
this garden, for they are not found except in our land; and the
merchants carry them to all parts. Lay the gold in the bottles
and strew it over with olives: then stop them and cover them and
take them with thee in the ship." So Kamar al-Zaman arose without
stay or delay and took fifty leather bottles and stored in each
somewhat of the gold, and closed each one after placing a layer
of olives over the gold; and at the bottom of one of the bottles
he laid the talisman. Then sat he down to talk with the gardener,
confident of speedy reunion with his own people and saying to
himself, "When I come to the Ebony Islands I will journey thence
to my father's country and enquire for my beloved Budur. Would to
Heaven I knew whether she returned to her own land or journeyed
on to my father's country or whether there befel her any accident
by the way." And he began versifying,

"Love in my breast they lit and fared away, *
     And far the land wherein my love is pent:
Far lies the camp and those who camp therein; *
     Par is her tent-shrine, where I ne'er shall tent.
Patience far deaf me when from me they fled; *
     Sleep failed mine eyes, endurance was forspent:
They left and with them left my every joy, *
     Wending with them, nor find I peace that went:
They made these eyes roll down love tears in flood, *
     And lacking them these eyne with tears are drent.
When my taste spins once again would see them, *
     When pine and expectation but augment,
In my heart's core their counterfeits I trace, *
     With love and yearning to behold their grace."

Then, while he awaited the end of the term of days, he told the
gardener the tale of the birds and what had passed between them;
whereat the hearer wondered; and they both lay down and slept
till the morning. The gardener awoke sick and abode thus two
days; but on the third day, his sickness increased on him, till
they despaired of his life and Kamar al-Zaman grieved with sore
grief for him. Meanwhile behold, the Master and his crew came and
enquired for the gardener; and, when Kamar al-Zaman told them
that he was sick, they asked, "Where be the youth who is minded
to go with us to the Ebony Islands?" "He is your servent and he
standeth before you!" answered the Prince and bade them carry the
bottles of olives to the ship; so they transported them, saying,
"Make haste, thou, for the wind is fair;" and he replied, "I hear
and obey." Then he carried his provaunt on board and, returning
to bid the gardener farewell, found him in the agonies of death;
so he sat down at his head and closed his eyes, and his soul
departed his body; whereupon he laid him out and committed him to
the earth unto the mercy of Allah Almighty. Then he made for the
ship but found that she had already weighed anchor and set sail;
nor did she cease to cleave the seas till she disappeared from
his sight. So he went back to whence he came heavy-hearted with
whirling head; and neither would he address a soul nor return a
reply; and reaching the garden and sitting down in cark and care
he threw dust on his head and buffeted his cheeks.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

        When it was the Two Hundred and Fifteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
ship sped on her course, Kamar al-Zaman returned to the garden in
cark and care; but- anon he rented the place of its owner and
hired a man to help him in irrigating the trees. Moreover, he
repaired the trap-door and he went to the underground chamber and
bringing the rest of the gold to grass, stowed it in other fifty
bottles which he filled up with a layer of olives. Then he
enquired of the ship and they told him that it sailed but once a
year, at which his trouble of mind redoubled and he cried sore
for that which had betided him, above all for the loss of the
Princess Budur's talisman, and spent his nights and days weeping
and repealing verses. Such was his case; but as regards the ship
she sailed with a favouring wind till she reached the Ebony
Islands. Now by decree of destiny, Queen Budur was sitting at a
lattice-window overlooking the sea and saw the galley cast anchor
upon the strand. At this sight, her heart throbbed and she took
horse with the Chamberlains and Nabobs and, riding down to the
shore, halted by the ship, whilst the sailors broke bulk and bore
the bales to the storehouses; after which she called the captain
to her presence and asked what he had with him. He answered "O
King, I have with me in this ship aromatic drugs and cosmetics
and healing powders and ointments and plasters and precious
metals and rich stuffs and rugs of Yemen leather, not to be borne
of mule or camel, and all manner of otters and spices and
perfumes, civet and ambergris and camphor and Sumatra aloes-wood,
and tamerinds[FN#333] and sparrow-olives to boot, such as are
rare to find in this country." When she heard talk of sparrow-
olives her heart longed for them and she said to the ship-master,
"How much of olives hast thou?" He replied, "Fifty bottles full,
but their owner is not with us, so the King shall take what he
will of them." Quoth she, "Bring them ashore, that I may see
them.'' Thereupon he called to the sailors, who brought her the
fifty bottles; and she opened one and, looking at the olives,
said to the captain, "I will take the whole fifty and pay you
their value, whatso it be." He answered, "By Allah, O my lord,
they have no value in our country; moreover their shipper tarried
behind us, and he is a poor man." Asked she, "And what are they
worth here?" and he answered "A thousand dirhams." "I will take
them at a thousand," she said and bade them carry the fifty
bottles to the palace. When it was night, she called for a bottle
of olives and opened it, there being none in the room but herself
and the Princess Hayat al-Nufus. Then, placing a dish before her
she turned into it the contents of the jar, when there fell out
into the dish with the olives a heap of red gold; and she said to
the Lady Hayat al-Nufus, "This is naught but gold!" So she sent
for the rest of the bottles and found them all full of precious
metal and scarce enough olives to fill a single jar. Moreover,
she sought among the gold and found therein the talisman, which
she took and examined and behold, it was that which Kamar al-
Zaman had taken from off the band of her petticoat trousers.
Thereupon she cried out for joy and slipped down in a swoon;--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

        When it was the Two Hundred and Sixteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King
Budur saw the talisman she cried out for joy and slipped down in
a swoon; and when she recovered she said to herself, "Verily,
this talisman was the cause of my separation from my beloved
Kamar al-Zaman; but now it is an omen of good." Then she showed
it to Hayat al-Nufus and said to her, "This was the cause of
disunion and now, please Allah, it shall be the cause of
reunion." As soon as day dawned she seated herself on the royal
throne and sent for the ship-master, who came into the presence
and kissed the ground before her. Quoth she, "Where didst thou
leave the owner of these olives?" Quoth he, "O King of the age,
we left him in the land of the Magians and he is a gardener
there." She rejoined, "Except thou bring him to me, thou knowest
not the harm which awaiteth thee and thy ship." Then she bade
them seal up the magazines of the merchants and said to them,
"Verily the owner of these olives hath borrowed of me and I have
a claim upon him for debt and, unless ye bring him to me, I will
without fail do you all die and seize your goods." So they went
to the captain and promised him the hire of the ship, if he would
go and return a second time, saying, "Deliver us from this
masterful tyrant." Accordingly the skipper embarked and set sail
and Allah decreed him a prosperous voyage, till he came to the
Island of the Magians and, landing by night, went up to the
garden. Now the night was long upon Kamar al-Zaman, and he sat,
bethinking him of his beloved, and bewailing what had befallen
him and versifying,

"A night whose stars refused to run their course, *
     A night of those which never seem outworn:
Like Resurrection-day, of longsome length[FN#334] *
     To him that watched and waited for the morn."

Now at this moment, the captain knocked at the garden-gate, and
Kamar al-Zaman opened and went out to him, whereupon the crew
seized him and went down with him on board the ship and set sail
forthright; and they ceased not voyaging days and nights, whilst
Kamar al-Zaman knew not why they dealt thus with him; but when he
questioned them they replied, "Thou hast offended against the
Lord of the Ebony Islands, the son-in-law of King Armanus, and
thou hast stolen his monies, miserable that thou art!" Said he,
"By Allah! I never entered that country nor do I know where it
is!" However, they fared on with him, till they made the Ebony
Islands and landing, carried him up to the Lady Budur, who knew
him at sight and said, "Leave him with the eunuchs, that they may
take him to the bath." Then she relieved the merchants of the
embargo and gave the captain a robe of honour worth ten thousand
pieces of gold; and, after returning to the palace, she went in
that night to the Princess Hayat al-Nufus and told her what had
passed, saying, "Keep thou my counsel, till I accomplish my
purpose, and do a deed which shall be recorded and shall be read
by Kings and commoners after we be dead and gone." And when she
gave orders that they bear Kamar al-Zaman to the bath, they did
so and clad him in a royal habit so that, when he came forth, he
resembled a willow-bough or a star which shamed the greater and
lesser light[FN#335] and its glow, and his life and soul returned
to his frame. Then he repaired to the palace and went in to the
Princess Budur; and when she saw him she schooled her heart to
patience, till she should have accomplished her purpose; and she
bestowed on him Mamelukes and eunuchs, camels and mules.
Moreover, she gave him a treasury of money and she ceased not
advancing him from dignity to dignity, till she made him Lord
High Treasurer and committed to his charge all the treasures of
the state; and she admitted him to familiar favour and acquainted
the Emirs with his rank and dignity. And all loved him, for Queen
Budur did not cease day by day to increase his allowances. As for
Kamar al-Zaman, he was at a loss anent the reason of her thus
honouring him; and he gave gifts and largesse out of the
abundance of the wealth; and he devoted himself to the service of
King Armanus; so that the King and all the Emirs and people,
great and small, adored him and were wont to swear by his life.
Nevertheless, he ever marvelled at the honour and favour shown
him by Queen Budur and said to himself, "By Allah, there needs
must be a reason for this affection! Peradventure, this King
favoureth me not with these immoderate favours save for some ill
purpose and, therefore, there is no help but that I crave leave
of him to depart his realm." So he went in to Queen Budur and
said to her, "O King, thou hast overwhelmed me with favours, but
it will fulfil the measure of thy bounties if thou take from me
all thou hast been pleased to bestow upon me, and permit me to
depart." She smiled and asked, "What maketh thee seek to depart
and plunge into new perils, whenas thou art in the enjoyment of
the highest favour and greatest prosperity?" Answered Kamar al-
Zaman, "O King, verily this favour, if there be no reason for it,
is indeed a wonder of wonders, more by token that thou hast
advanced me to dignities such as befit men of age and experience,
albeit I am as it were a young child." And Queen Budur rejoined,
"The reason is that I love thee for shine exceeding loveliness
and thy surpassing beauty; and if thou wilt but grant me my
desire of thy body, I will advance thee yet farther in honour and
favour and largesse; and I will make thee Wazir, for all thy
tender age even as the folk made me Sultan over them and I no
older than thou; so that nowadays there is nothing strange when
children take the head and by Allah, he was a gifted man who
said,

'It seems as though of Lot's tribe were our days, *
     And crave with love to advance the young in years.'"[FN#336]

When Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, he was abashed and his
cheeks flushed till they seemed a-flame; and he said, "I need not
these favours which lead to the commission of sin; I will live
poor in wealth but wealthy in virtue and honour." Quoth she, "I
am not to be duped by thy scruples, arising from prudery and
coquettish ways; and Allah bless him who saith,

'To him I spake of coupling, but he said to me, *
     How long this noyous long persistency?'
But when gold piece I showed him, he cried, *
     'Who from the Almighty Sovereign e'er shall flee?'"

Now when Kamar al-Zaman, heard these words and understood her
verses and their import, he said, "O King, I have not the habit
of these doings, nor have I strength to bear these heavy burthens
for which elder than I have proved unable; then how will it be
with my tender age?" But she smiled at his speech and retorted,
"Indeed, it is a matter right marvellous how error springeth from
the disorder of man's intendiment!! Since thou art a boy, why
standest thou in fear of sin or the doing of things forbidden,
seeing that thou art not yet come to years of canonical
responsibility; and the offences of a child incur neither
punishment nor reproof? Verily, thou hast committed thyself to a
quibble for the sake of contention, and it is thy duty to bow
before a proposal of fruition, so henceforward cease from denial
and coyness, for the commandment of Allah is a decree
foreordained:[FN#337] indeed, I have more reason than thou to
fear falling and by sin to be misled; and well inspired was he
who said,

'My prickle is big and the little one said, *
     'Thrust boldly in vitals with lion-like stroke!
Then I, ' 'Tis a sin!; and he, 'No sin to me! *
     So I had him at once with a counterfeit poke."[FN#338]

When Kamar al-Zaman heard these words, the light became darkness
in his sight and he said, "O King, thou hast in thy household
fair women and female slaves, who have not their like in this
age: shall not these suffice thee without me? Do thy will with
them and let me go!" She replied, "Thou sayest sooth, but it is
not with them that one who loveth thee can heal himself of
torment and can abate his fever; for, when tastes and
inclinations are corrupted by vice, they hear and obey other than
good advice. So leave arguing and listen to what the poet saith,

'Seest not the bazar with its fruit in rows? *
     These men are for figs and for sycamore[FN#339] those!'

And what another saith,

'Many whose anklet rings are dumb have tinkling belts, *
     And this hath all content while that for want must wail:
Thou bidd'st me be a fool and quit thee for her charms; *
     Allah forfend I leave The Faith, turn Infidel!
Nay, by thy rights of side-beard mocking all her curls, *
     Nor mott nor maid[FN#340] from thee my heart shall spell.'

And yet another,

'O beauty's Union! love for thee's my creed, *
     Free choice of Faith and eke my best desire:
Women I have forsworn for thee; so may *
     Deem me all men this day a shaveling friar.'[FN#341]

And yet another,

'Even not beardless one with girl, nor heed *
     The spy who saith to thee ''Tis an amiss!'
Far different is the girl whose feet one kisses *
     And that gazelle whose feet the earth must kiss.'

And yet another,

'A boy of twice ten is fit for a King!'

And yet another,

'The penis smooth and round was made with anus best to match
     it, * Had it been made for cunnus' sake it had been formed
     like hatchet!'

And yet another said,

'My soul thy sacrifice! I chose thee out *
     Who art not menstruous nor oviparous:
 Did I with woman mell, I should beget *
     Brats till the wide wide world grew strait for us.'

And yet another,

'She saith (sore hurt in sense the most acute *
     For she had proffered what did not besuit),
'Unless thou stroke as man should swive his wife *
     Blame not when horns thy brow shall incornùte!
Thy wand seems waxen, to a limpo grown, *
     And more I palm it, softer grows the brute!'

And yet another,

'Quoth she (for I to lie with her forbore), *
     'O folly-following fool, O fool to core:
If thou my coynte for Kiblah[FN#342] to thy coigne *
     Reject, we'll shall please thee more.'[FN#343]

And yet another,

'She proffered me a tender coynte *
     Quoth I 'I will not roger thee!'
She drew back, saying, 'From the Faith *
     He turns, who's turned by Heaven's decree![FN#344]
And front wise fluttering, in one day, *
     Is obsolete persistency!'
Then swung she round and shining rump *
     Like silvern lump she showed me!
I cried: 'Well done, O mistress mine! *
     No more am I in pain for thee;
O thou of all that Allah oped[FN#345] *
     Showest me fairest victory!'

And yet another,

'Men craving pardon will uplift their hands; *
     Women pray pardon with their legs on high:
Out on it for a pious, prayerful work! *
     The Lord shall raise it in the depths to lie.'"[FN#346]

When Kamar al-Zaman heard her quote this poetry, and was
certified that there was no escaping compliance with what willed
she, he said, "O King of the age, if thou must needs have it so,
make covenant with me that thou wilt do this thing with me but
once, though it avail not to correct thy depraved appetite, and
that thou wilt never again require this thing of me to the end of
time; so perchance shall Allah purge me of the sin." She replied
"I promise thee this thing, hoping that Allah of His favour will
relent towards us and blot out our mortal offence; for the girdle
of heaven's forgiveness is not indeed so strait, but it may
compass us around and absolve us of the excess of our heinous
sins and bring us to the light of salvation out of the darkness
of error; and indeed excellently well saith the poet,

'Of evil thing the folk suspect us twain; *
     And to this thought their hearts and souls are bent:
Come, dear! let's justify and free their souls *
     That wrong us; one good bout and then--repent!'''[FN#347]

Thereupon she made him an agreement and a covenant and swore a
solemn oath by Him who is Self-existent, that this thing should
befal betwixt them but once and never again for all time, and
that the desire of him was driving her to death and perdition. So
he rose up with her, on this condition, and went with her to her
own boudoir, that she might quench the lowe of her lust, saying,
"There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the
Glorious, the Great! This is the fated decree of the All-
powerful, the All-wise!"; and he doffed his bag-trousers,
shamefull and abashed, with the tears running from his eyes for
stress of affright. Thereat she smiled and making him mount upon
a couch with her, said to him, "After this night, thou shalt see
naught that will offend thee." Then she turned to him bussing and
bosoming him and bending calf over calf, and said to him, "Put
thy hand between my thighs to the accustomed place; so haply it
may stand up to prayer after prostration." He wept and cried, "I
am not good at aught of this," but she said, "By my life, an thou
do as I bid thee, it shall profit thee!" So he put out his hand,
with vitals a-fire for confusion, and found her thighs cooler
than cream and softer than silk. The touching of them pleasured
him and he moved his hand hither and thither, till it came to a
dome abounding in good gifts and movements and shifts, and said
in himself, "Perhaps this King is a hermaphrodite,[FN#348]
neither man nor woman quite;" so he said to her, "O King, I
cannot find that thou hast a tool like the tools of men; what
then moved thee to do this deed?" Then loudly laughed Queen Budur
till she fell on her back,[FN#349] and said, "O my dearling, how
quickly thou hast forgotten the nights we have lain together!"
Then she made herself known to him, and he knew her for his wife,
the Lady Budur, daughter of King al-Ghayur, Lord of the Isles and
the Seas. So he embraced her and she embraced him, and he kissed
her and she kissed him; then they lay down on the bed of pleasure
voluptuous, repeating the words of the poet,

"When his softly bending shape bid him close to my embrace *
     Which clips him all about like the tendrils of the vine
And shed a flood of softness on the hardness of his heart, *
     He yielded though at first he was minded to decline;
And dreading lest the railer's eye should light upon his form, *
     Came armoured with caution to baffle his design:
His waist makes moan of hinder cheeks that weigh upon his feet *
     Like heavy load of merchandise upon young camel li'en;
Girt with his glances scymitar which seemed athirst for blood, *
     And clad in mail of dusky curls that show the sheeniest
     shine,
His fragrance wafted happy news of footstep coming nigh, *
     And to him like a bird uncaged I flew in straightest line:
I spread my cheek upon his path, beneath his sandal-shoon, *
     And lo! the stibium[FN#350] of their dust healed all my hurt
     of eyne.
With one embrace again I bound the banner of our loves[FN#351] *
     And loosed the knot of my delight that bound in bonds
     malign:
Then bade I make high festival, and straight came flocking in *
     Pure joys that know not grizzled age[FN#352] nor aught of
     pain and pine:
The full moon dotted with the stars the lips and pearly teeth *
     That dance right joyously upon the bubbling face of wine:
So in the prayer-niche of their joys I yielded me to what *
     Would make the humblest penitent of sinner most indign.
I swear by all the signs[FN#353] of those glories in his face *
     I'll ne'er forget the Chapter entituled Al-Ikhlas."[FN#354]

Then Queen Budur told Kamar al-Zaman all that had befallen her
from beginning to end and he did likewise; after which he began
to upbraid her, saying, "What moved thee to deal with me as thou
hast done this night?" She replied, "Pardon me! for I did this by
way of jest, and that pleasure and gladness might be increased."
And when dawned the morn and day arose with its sheen and shone,
she sent to King Armanus, sire of the Lady Hayat al-Nufus, and
acquainted him with the truth of the case and that she was wife
to Kamar al-Zaman. Moreover, she told him their tale and the
cause of their separation, and how his daughter was a virgin,
pure as when she was born. He marvelled at their story with
exceeding marvel and bade them chronicle it in letters of gold.
Then he turned to Kamar al-Zaman and said, "O King's son, art
thou minded to become my son-in-law by marrying my daughter?"
Replied he, "I must consult the Queen Budur, as she hath a claim
upon me for benefits without stint." And when he took counsel
with her, she said, "Right is thy recking; marry her and I will
be her handmaid; for I am her debtor for kindness and favour and
good offices, and obligations manifold, especially as we are here
in her place and as the King her father hath whelmed us with
benefits."[FN#355] Now when he saw that she inclined to this and
was not jealous of Hayat al-Nufus, he agreed with her upon this
matter.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.

       When it was the Two Hundred and Seventeenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Kamar al-
Zaman agreed with his wife, Queen Budur, upon this matter and
told King Armanus what she had said; whereat he rejoiced with
great joy. Then he went out and, seating himself upon his chair
of estate, assembled all the Wazirs, Emirs, Chamberlains and
Grandees, to whom he related the whole story of Kamar al-Zaman
and his wife, Queen Budur, from first to last; and acquainted
them with his desire to marry his daughter Hayat al-Nufus to the
Prince and make him King in the stead of Queen Budur. Whereupon
said they all, "Since he is the husband of Queen Budur, who hath
been our King till now, whilst we deemed her son-in-law to King
Armanus, we are all content to have him to Sultan over us; and we
will be his servants, nor will we swerve from his allegiance." So
Armanus rejoiced hereat and, summoning Kazis and witnesses and
the chief officers of state, bade draw up the contract of
marriage between Kamar al-Zaman and his daughter, the Princess
Hayat al-Nufus. Then he held high festival, giving sumptuous
marriage-feasts and bestowing costly dresses of honour upon all
the Emirs and Captains of the host; moreover he distributed alms
to the poor and needy and set free all the prisoners. The whole
world rejoiced in the coming of Kamar al-Zaman to the throne,
blessing him and wishing him endurance of glory and prosperity,
renown and felicity; and, as soon as he became King, he remitted
the customs-dues and released all men who remained in gaol. Thus
he abode a long while, ordering himself worthily towards his
lieges; and he lived with his two wives in peace, happiness,
constancy and content, lying the night with each of them in turn.
He ceased not after this fashion during many years, for indeed
all his troubles and afflictions were blotted out from him and he
forgot his father King Shahriman and his former estate of honour
and favour with him. After a while Almighty Allah blessed him
with two boy children, as they were two shining moons, through
his two wives; the elder whose name was Prince Amjad,[FN#356] by
Queen Budur, and the younger whose name was Prince As'ad by Queen
Hayat al-Nufus; and this one was comelier than his brother. They
were reared in splendour and tender affection, in respectful
bearing and in the perfection of training; and they were
instructed in penmanship and science and the arts of government
and horsemanship, till they attained the extreme accomplishments
and the utmost limit of beauty and loveliness; both men and women
being ravished by their charms. They grew up side by side till
they reached the age of seventeen, eating and drinking together
and sleeping in one bed, nor ever parting at any time or tide;
wherefore all the people envied them. Now when they came to man's
estate and were endowed with every perfection, their father was
wont, as often as he went on a journey, to make them sit in his
stead by turns in the hall of judgement; and each did justice
among the folk one day at a time. But it came to pass, by
confirmed fate and determined lot, that love for As'ad (son of
Queen Hayat al-Nufus) rose in the heart of Queen Budur, and that
affection for Amjad (son of Queen Budur) rose in the heart of
Queen Hayat al-Nufus.[FN#357] Hence it was that each of the women
used to sport and play with the son of her sister-wife, kissing
him and straining him to her bosom, whilst each mother thought
that the other's behaviour arose but from maternal affection. On
this wise passion got the mastery of the two women's hearts and
they became madly in love with the two youths, so that when the
other's son came in to either of them, she would press him to her
breast and long for him never to be parted from her; till, at
last, when waiting grew longsome to them and they found no path
to enjoyment, they refused meat and drink and banished the solace
of sleep. Presently, the King fared forth to course and chase,
bidding his two sons sit to do justice in his stead, each one day
in turn as was their wont.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased to say her permitted say.

       When it was the Two Hundred and Eighteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the King
fared forth to sport and hunt, bidding his two sons sit to do
justice in his stead, each one day by turn, as was their wont.
Now Prince Amjad sat in judgement the first day, bidding and
forbidding, appointing and deposing, giving and refusing; and
Queen Hayat al-Nufus, mother of As'ad, wrote to him a letter
suing for his favour and discovering to him her passion and
devotion; altogether put tiny off the mask and giving him to know
that she desired to enjoy him. So she took a scroll and thereon
indited these cadences, "From the love deranged * the sorrowful
and estranged * whose torment is prolonged for the longing of
thee! * Were I to recount to thee the extent of my care * and
what of sadness I bear * the passion which my heart cloth tear *
and all that I endure for weeping and unrest * and the rending of
my sorrowful breast * my unremitting grief * and my woe without
relief * and all my suffering for severance of thee * and sadness
and love's ardency * no letter could contain it; nor calculation
could compass it * Indeed earth and heaven upon me are strait;
and I have no hope and no trust but what from thee I await * Upon
death I am come nigh * and the horrors of dissolution I aby *
Burning upon me is sore * with parting pangs and estrangement
galore * Were I to set forth the yearnings that possess me more
and more * no scrolls would suffice to hold such store * and of
the excess of my pain and pine, I have made the following lines:-
-

Were I to dwell on heart-consuming heat, *
     Unease and transports in my spins meet,
Nothing were left of ink and reeden pen *
     Nor aught of paper; no, not e'en a sheet.

Then Queen Hayat al-Nufus wrapped up her letter in a niece of
costly silk scented with musk and ambergris; and folded it up
with her silken hair-strings[FN#358] whose cost swallowed down
treasures laid it in a handkerchief and gave it to a eunuch
bidding him bear it to Prince Amjad.--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

       When it was the Two Hundred and Nineteenth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that she gave
her missive to the eunuch in waiting and bade him bear it to
Prince Amjad. And that eunuch went forth ignoring what the future
hid for him (for the Omniscient ordereth events even as He
willeth); and, going in to the Prince, kissed the ground between
his hands and handed to him the letter. On receiving the kerchief
he opened it and, reading the epistle and recognizing its gist he
was ware that his father's wife was essentially an adulteress and
a traitress at heart to her husband, King Kamar al-Zaman. So he
waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and railed at women and their
works, saying, "Allah curse women, the traitresses, the imperfect
in reason and religion!"[FN#359] Then he drew his sword and said
to the eunuch, "Out on thee, thou wicked slave! Dost thou carry
messages of disloyalty for thy lord's wife? By Allah, there is no
good in thee, O black of hue and heart, O foul of face and
Nature's forming!" So he smote him on the neck and severed his
head from his body; then, folding the kerchief over its contents
he thrust it into his breast pocket and went in to his own mother
and told her what had passed, reviling and reproaching her, and
saying, "Each one of you is viler than the other; and, by Allah
the Great and Glorious, did I not fear ill-manneredly to
transgress against the rights of my father, Kamar al-Zaman, and
my brother, Prince As'ad, I would assuredly go in to her and cut
off her head, even as I cut off that of her eunuch!" Then he went
forth from his mother in a mighty rage; and when the news reached
Queen Hayat al-Nufus of what he had done with her eunuch, she
abused him[FN#360] and cursed him and plotted perfidy against
him. He passed the night, sick with rage, wrath and concern; nor
found he pleasure in meat, drink or sleep. And when the next
morning dawned Prince As'ad fared forth in his turn to rule the
folk in his father's stead, whilst his mother, Hayat al-Nufus,
awoke in feeble plight because of what she had heard from Prince
Amjad concerning the slaughter of her eunuch. So Prince As'ad sat
in the audience-chamber that day, judging and administering
justice, appointing and deposing, bidding and forbidding, giving
and bestowing. And he ceased not thus till near the time of
afternoon-prayer, when Queen Budur sent for a crafty old woman
and, discovering to her what was in her heart, wrote a letter to
Prince As'ad, complaining of the excess of her affection and
desire for him in these cadenced lines, "From her who perisheth
for passion and love-forlorn * to him who in nature and culture
is goodliest born * to him who is conceited of his own loveliness
* and glories in his amorous grace * who from those that seek to
enjoy him averteth his face * and refuseth to show favour unto
the self abasing and base * him who is cruel and of disdainful
mood * from the lover despairing of good * to Prince As'ad *
     with passing beauty endowed * and of excelling grace proud *
of the face moon bright * and the brow flower-white * and
dazzling splendid light * This is my letter to him whose love
melteth my body * and rendeth my skin and bones! * Know that my
patience faileth me quite * and I am perplexed in my plight *
longing and restlessness weary me * and sleep and patience deny
themselves to me * but mourning and watching stick fast to me *
and desire and passion torment me * and the extremes of languor
and sickness have sheet me * Yet may my life be a ransom for thee
* albeit thy pleasure be to slay her who loveth thee * and Allah
prolong the life of thee * and preserve thee from all infirmity!"
And after these cadences she wrote these couplets,

"Fate hath commanded I become thy fere, *
     O shining like full moon when clearest clear!
All beauty dost embrace, all eloquence; *
     Brighter than aught within our worldly sphere:
Content am I my torturer thou be: *
     Haply shalt alms me with one lovely leer!
Happy her death who dieth for thy love! *
     No good in her who holdeth thee unclear!"

And also the following couplets,

"Unto thee, As'ad! I of passion-pangs complain; *
     Have ruth on slave of love so burnt with flaming pain:
How long, I ask, shall hands of Love disport with me, *
     With longings, dolour, sleepliness and bale and bane?
Anon I 'plain of sea in heart, anon of fire *
     In vitals, O strange case, dear wish, my fairest fain!
O blamer, cease thy blame, and seek thyself to fly *
     From love, which makes these eyne a rill of tears to rain.
How oft I cry for absence and desire, Ah grief! *
     But all my crying naught of gain for me shall gain:
Thy rigours dealt me sickness passing power to bear, *
     Thou art my only leach, assain me an thou deign!
O chider, chide me not in caution, for I doubt *
     That plaguey Love to thee shall also deal a bout."

Then Queen Budur perfumed the letter-paper with a profusion of
odoriferous musk and, winding it in her hairstrings which were of
Iraki silk, with pendants of oblong emeralds, set with pearls and
stones of price, delivered it to the old woman, bidding her carry
it to Prince As'ad.[FN#361] She did so in order to pleasure her,
and going in to the Prince, straightway and without stay, found
him in his own rooms and delivered to him the letter in privacy;
after which she stood waiting an hour or so for the answer. When
As'ad had read the paper and knew its purport, he wrapped it up
again in the ribbons and put it in his bosom-pocket: then (for he
was wrath beyond all measure of wrath) he cursed false women and
sprang up and drawing his sword, smote the old trot on the neck
and cut off her pate. Thereupon he went in to his mother, Queen
Hayat al-Nufus, whom he found lying on her bed in feeble case,
for that which had betided her with Prince Amjad, and railed at
her and cursed her; after which he left her and fore-gathered
with his brother, to whom he related all that had befallen him
with Queen Budur, adding, "By Allah, O my brother, but that I was
ashamed before thee, I had gone in to her forthright and had
smitten her head off her shoulders!" Replied Prince Amjad, "By
Allah, O my brother, yesterday when I was sitting upon the seat
of judgement, the like of what hath befallen thee this day befel
me also with thy mother who sent me a letter of similar purport."
And he told him all that had passed, adding, "By Allah, O my
brother, naught but respect for thee withheld me from going in to
her and dealing with her even as I dealt with the eunuch!" They
passed the rest of the night conversing and cursing womankind,
and agreed to keep the matter secret, lest their father should
hear of it and kill the two women. Yet they ceased not to suffer
trouble and foresee affliction. And when the morrow dawned, the
King returned with his suite from hunting and sat awhile in his
chair of estate; after which he sent the Emirs about their
business and went up to his palace, where he found his two wives
lying a-bed and both exceeding sick and weak. Now they had made a
plot against their two sons and concerted to do away their lives,
for that they had exposed themselves before them and feared to be
at their mercy and dependent upon their forbearance. When Kamar
al-Zaman saw them on this wise, he said to them, "What aileth
you?" Whereupon they rose to him and kissing his hands answered,
perverting the case and saying "Know, O King, that thy two sons,
who have been reared in thy bounty, have played thee false and
have dishonoured thee in the persons of thy wives." Now when he
heard this, the light became darkness in his sight, and he raged
with such wrath that his reason fled: then said he to them,
"Explain me this matter." Replied Queen Budur, "O King of the
age, know that these many days past thy son As'ad hath been in
the persistent habit of sending me letters and messages to
solicit me to lewdness and adultery while I still forbade him
from this, but he would not be forbidden; and, when thou wentest
forth to hunt, he rushed in on me, drunk and with a drawn sword
in his hand, and smiting my eunuch, slew him. Then he mounted on
my breast, still holding the sword, and I feared lest he should
slay me, if I gainsaid him, even as he had slain my eunuch; so he
took his wicked will of me by force. And now if thou do me not
justice on him, O King, I will slay myself with my own hand, for
I have no need of life in the world after this foul deed." And
Queen Hayat al-Nufus, choking with tears, told him respecting
Prince Amjad a story like that of her sister-wife.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

        When it was the Two Hundred and Twentieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Queen Hayat
al-Nufus told her husband, King Kamar al-Zaman, a story like that
of her sister in wedlock, Budur, and, quoth she, "The same thing
befel me with thy son Amjad;" after which she took to weeping and
wailing and said, "Except thou do me justice on him I will tell
my father, King Armanus." Then both women wept with sore weeping
before King Kamar al-Zaman who, when he saw their tears and heard
their words, concluded that their story was true and, waxing
wroth beyond measure of wrath, went forth thinking to fall upon
his two sons and put them to death. On his way he met his father-
in-law, King Armanus who, hearing of his return from the chase,
had come to salute him at that very hour and, seeing him with
naked brand in hand and blood dripping from his nostrils, for
excess of rage, asked what ailed him. So Kamar al-Zaman told him
all that his sons Amjad and As'ad had done and added, "And here I
am now going in to them to slay them in the foulest way and make
of them the most shameful of examples." Quoth King Armanus (and
indeed he too was wroth with them), "Thou dost well, O my son,
and may Allah not bless them nor any sons that do such deed
against their father's honour. But, O my son, the sayer of the
old saw saith, 'Whoso looketh not to the end hath not Fortune to
friend.' In any case, they are thy sons, and it befitteth not
that thou kill them with shine own hand, lest thou drink of their
death-agony,[FN#362] and anon repent of having slain them whenas
repentance availeth thee naught. Rather do thou send them with
one of thy Mamelukes into the desert and let him kill them there
out of thy sight, for, as saith the adage, 'Out of sight of my
friend is better and pleasanter.'[FN#363] And when Kamar al-Zaman
heard his father-in-law's words, he knew them to be just; so he
sheathed his sword and turning back, sat down upon the throne of
his realm. There he summoned his treasurer, a very old man,
versed in affairs and in fortune's vicissitudes, to whom he said,
"Go in to my sons, Amjad and As'ad; bind their hands behind them
with strong bonds, lay them in two chests and load them upon a
mule. Then take horse thou and carry them into mid desert, where
do thou kill them both and fill two vials with their blood and
bring the same to me in haste." Replied the treasurer, "I hear
and I obey," and he rose up hurriedly and went out forthright to
seek the Princes; and, on his road, he met them coming out of the
palace-vestibule, for they had donned their best clothes and
their richest; and they were on their way to salute their sire
and give him joy of his safe return from his going forth to hunt.
Now when he saw them, he laid hands on them, saying, "Omy sons,
know ye that I am but a slave commanded, and that your father
hath laid a commandment on me; will ye obey his commandment?"
They said, "Yes"; whereupon he went up to them and, after
pinioning their arms, laid them in the chests which he loaded on
the back of a mule he had taken from the city. And he ceased not
carrying them into the open country till near noon, when he
halted in a waste and desolate place and, dismounting from his
mare, let down the two chests from the mule's back. Then he
opened them and took out Amjad and As'ad; and when he looked upon
them he wept sore for their beauty and loveliness; then drawing
his sword he said to them, "By Allah, O my lords, indeed it is
hard for me to deal so evilly by you; but I am to be excused in
this matter, being but a slave commanded, for that your father
King Kamar al-Zaman hath bidden me strike off your heads." They
replied, "O Emir, do the King's bidding, for we bear with
patience that which Allah (to Whom be Honour, Might and Glory!)
hath decreed to us; and thou art quit of our blood." Then they
embraced and bade each other farewell, and As'ad said to the
treasurer, "Allah upon thee, O uncle, spare me the sight of my
brother's death-agony and make me not drink of his anguish, but
kill me first, for that were the easier for me." And Amjad said
the like and entreated the treasurer to kill him before As'ad,
saying, "My brother is younger than I; so make me not taste of
his anguish. And they both wept bitter tears whilst the treasurer
wept for their weeping;--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the
treasurer wept for their weeping; then the two brothers embraced
and bade farewell and one said to the other, "All this cometh of
the malice of those traitresses, my mother and thy mother; and
this is the reward of my forbearance towards thy mother and of
thy for bearance towards my mother! But there is no Might and
there is no Majesty save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!
Verily, we are Allah's and unto Him we are returning."[FN#364]
And As'ad em braced his brother, sobbing and repeating these
couplets,

"O Thou to whom sad trembling wights in fear complain! *
     O ever ready whatso cometh to sustain!
The sole resource for me is at Thy door to knock, *
     At whose door knock an Thou to open wilt not deign?
O Thou whose grace is treasured in the one word, Be![FN#365] *
     Favour me, I beseech, in Thee all weals contain."

Now when Amjad heard his brother's weeping he wept also and
pressing him to his bosom repeated these two couplets,

"O Thou whose boons to me are more than one! *
     Whose gifts and favours have nor count nor bound!
No stroke of all Fate's strokes e'er fell on me, *
     But Thee to take me by the hand I found."

Then said Amjad to the treasurer, "I conjure thee by the One,
Omnipotent, the Lord of Mercy, the Beneficent! slay me before my
brother As'ad, so haply shall the fire be quencht in my heart's
core and in this life burn no more." But As'ad wept and
exclaimed, "Not so: I will die first;" whereupon quoth Amjad, "It
were best that I embrace thee and thou embrace me, so the sword
may fall upon us and slay us both at a single stroke." Thereupon
they embraced, face to face and clung to each other straitly,
whilst the treasurer tied up the twain and bound them fast with
cords, weeping the while. Then he drew his blade and said to
them, "By Allah, O my lords, it is indeed hard to me to slay you!
But have ye no last wishes that I may fulfil or charges which I
may carry out, or message which I may deliver?" Replied Amjad,
"We have no wish; and my only charge to thee is that thou set my
brother below and me above him, that the blow may fall on me
first, and when thou hast killed us and returnest to the King and
he asketh thee, 'What heardest thou from them before their
death?'; do thou answer, 'Verily thy sons salute thee and say to
thee, Thou knewest not if we were innocent or guilty, yet hast
thou put us to death and hast not certified thyself of our sin
nor looked into our case.' Then do thou repeat to him these two
couplets,

'Women are Satans made for woe o' men; *
     I fly to Allah from their devilish scathe:
Source of whatever bale befel our kind, *
     In wordly matters and in things of Faith.'"

Continued Amjad, "We desire of thee naught but that thou repeat
to our sire these two couplets."--And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

    When it was ad the Two Hundred and Twenty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Amjad
added, speaking to the treasurer, "We desire of thee naught but
that thou repeat to our sire these two couplets which thou hast
just now heard; and I conjure thee by Allah to have patience with
us, whilst I cite to my brother this other pair of couplets."
Then he wept with sore weeping and began,

"The Kings who fared before us showed *
     Of instances full many a show:
Of great and small and high and low *
     How many this one road have trod!"

Now when the treasurer heard these words from Amjad, he wept till
his beard was wet, whilst As'ad's eyes brimmed with tears and he
in turn repeated these couplets,

"Fate frights us when the thing is past and gone; *
     Weeping is not for form or face alone[FN#366]:
What ails the Nights?[FN#367] Allah blot out our sin, *
     And be the Nights by other hand undone!
Ere this Zubayr-son[FN#368] felt their spiteful hate, *
     Who fled for refuge to the House and Stone:
Would that when Khárijah was for Amru slain[FN#369] *
     They had ransomed Ali with all men they own."

Then, with cheeks stained by tears down railing he recited also
these verses,

"In sooth the Nights and Days are charactered *
     By traitor falsehood and as knaves they lie;
The Desert-reek[FN#370] recalls their teeth that shine; *
     All horrid blackness is their K of eye:
My sin anent the world which I abhor *
     Is sin of sword when sworders fighting hie."

Then his sobs waxed louder and he said,

"O thou who woo'st a World[FN#371] unworthy, learn *
     'Tis house of evils, 'tis Perdition's net:
A house where whoso laughs this day shall weep *
     The next: then perish house of fume and fret!
Endless its frays and forays, and its thralls *
     Are ne'er redeemed, while endless risks beset.
How many gloried in its pomps and pride, *
     Till proud and pompous did all bounds forget,
Then showing back of shield she made them swill[FN#372] *
     Full draught, and claimed all her vengeance debt.
For know her strokes fall swift and sure, altho' *
     Long bide she and forslow the course of Fate:
So look thou to thy days lest life go by *
     Idly, and meet thou more than thou hast met;
And cut all chains of world-love and desire *
     And save thy soul and rise to secrets higher."

Now when As'ad made an end of these verses, he strained his
brother Amjad in his arms, till they twain were one body, and the
treasurer, drawing his sword, was about to strike them, when
behold, his steed took fright at the wind of his upraised hand,
and breaking its tether, fled into the desert. Now the horse had
cost a thousand gold pieces and on its back was a splendid saddle
worth much money; so the treasurer threw down his sword, and ran
after his beast.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when his
horse ran away, the treasurer ran after it in huge concern, and
ceased not running to catch the runaway till it entered a
thicket. He followed it whilst it dashed through the wood,
smiting the earth with its hoofs till it raised a dust-cloud
which towered high in air; and snorting and puffing and neighing
and waxing fierce and furious. Now there happened to be in this
thicket a lion of terrible might; hideous to sight, with eyes
sparkling light: his look was grim and his aspect struck fright
into man's sprite. Presentry the treasurer turned and saw the
lion making towards him; but found no way of escape nor had he
his sword with him. So he said in himself, "There is no Majesty
and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!
This strait is come upon me for no other cause but because of
Amjad and As'ad; and indeed this journey was unblest from the
first!" Meanwhile the two Princes were grievously oppressed by
the heat and grew sore athirst, so that their tongues hung out
and they cried for succour, but none came to their relief and
they said, "Would to Heaven we had been slain and were at peace
from this pain! But we know not whither the horse hath fled, that
the treasurer is gone and hath left us thus pinioned. If he would
but come back and do us die, it were easier to us than this
torture to aby." Said As'ad, "O my brother, be patient, and the
relief of Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) shall assuredly
come to us; for the horse started not away save of His favour
towards us, and naught irketh us but this thirst." Upon this he
stretched and shook himself and strained right and left, till he
burst his pinion-bonds; then he rose and unbound his brother and
catching up the Emir's sword, said, "By Allah, we will not go
hence, till we look after him and learn what is become of him."
Then they took to following on the trail till it led them to the
thicket and they said to each other, "Of a surety, the horse and
the treasurer have not passed out of this wood." Quoth As'ad,
"Stay thou here, whilst I enter the thicket and search it;" and
Amjad replied, "I will not let thee go in alone: nor will we
enter it but together; so if we escape, we shall escape together
and if we perish, we shall perish together." Accordingly both
entered and found that the lion had sprang upon the treasurer,
who lay like a sparrow in his grip, calling upon Allah for aid
and signing with his hands to Heaven. Now when Amjad saw this, he
took the sword and, rushing upon the lion, smote him between the
eyes and laid him dead on the ground. The Emir sprang up,
marvelling at this escape and seeing Amjad and As'ad, his
master's sons, standing there, cast himself at their feet and
exclaimed, "By Allah, O my lords, it were intolerable wrong in me
to do you to death. May the man never be who would kill you!
Indeed, with my very life, I will ransom you."--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

     When it was  the Two Hundred and Twenty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that quoth the
treasurer to Amjad and As'ad, "With my life will I ransom you
both!" Then he hastily rose and, at once embracing them, enquired
how they had loosed their bonds and come thither; whereupon they
told him how the bonds of one of them had fallen loose and he had
unbound the other, whereto they were helped by the purity of
their intentions, and how they had tracked his trail till they
came upon him. So he thanked them for their deed and went with
them forth of the thicket; and, when they were in the open
country, they said to him, "O uncle, do our father's bidding." He
replied, "Allah forbid that I should draw near to you with hurt!
But know ye that I mean to take your clothes and clothe you with
mine; then will I fill two vials with the lion's blood and go
back to the King and tell him I have out vou to death. But as for
you two, fare ye forth into the lands, for Allah's earth is wide;
and know, O my lords, that it paineth me to part from you." At
this, they all fell a-weeping; then the two youths put off their
clothes and the treasurer habited them with his own. Moreover he
made two parcels of their dress and, filling two vials with the
lion's blood, set the parcels before him on his horse's back.
Presently he took leave of them and, making his way to the city,
ceased not faring till he went in to King Kamar al-Zaman and
kissed the ground between his hands. The King saw him changed in
face and troubled (which arose from his adventure with the lion)
and, deeming this came of the slaughter of his two sons, rejoiced
and said to him, "Hast thou done the work?" "Yes, O our lord,"
replied the treasurer and gave him the two parcels of clothes and
the two vials full of blood. Asked the King, "What didst thou
observe in them; and did they give thee any charge?" Answered the
treasurer, "I found them patient and resigned to what came down
upon them and they said to me, 'Verily, our father is excusable;
bear him our salutation and say to him, 'Thou art quit of our
killing. But we charge thee repeat to him these couplets,

'Verily women are devils created for us. We seek refuge with God
from the artifice of the devils.
They are the source of all the misfortunes that have appeared
among mankind in the affairs of the world and of
religion.'''[FN#373]

When the King heard these words of the treasurer, he bowed his
head earthwards, a long while and knew his sons' words to mean
that they had been wrongfully put to death. Then he bethought
himself of the perfidy of women and the calamities brought about
by them; and he took the two parcels and opened them and fell to
turning over his sons' clothes and weeping,--And Shahrazed
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when King
Kamar la-Zaman opened the two bundles and fell to turning over
his sons' clothes and weeping, it so came to pass that he found,
in the pocket of his son As'ad's raiment, a letter in the hand of
his wife enclosing her hair strings; so he opened and read it and
understanding the contents knew that the Prince had been falsely
accused and wrongously. Then he searched Amjad's parcel of dress
and found in his pocket a letter in the handwriting of Queen
Hayat al-Nufus enclosing also her hair-strings; so he opened and
read it and knew that Amjad too had been wronged; whereupon he
beat hand upon hand and exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there
is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! I have slain
my sons unjustly." And he buffeted his face, crying out, "Alas,
my sons! Alas, my long grief!" Then he bade them build two tombs
in one house, which he styled "House of Lamentations," and had
graved thereon his sons' names; and he threw himself on Amjad's
tomb, weeping and groaning and lamenting, and improvised these
couplets,

"O moon for ever set this earth below, *
     Whose loss bewail the stars which stud the sky!
O wand, which broken, ne'er with bend and wave *
     Shall fascinate the ravisht gazer's eye;
These eyne for jealousy I 'reft of thee, *
     Nor shall they till next life thy sight descry:
I'm drowned in sea of tears for insomny *
     Wherefore, indeed in Sáhirah-stead[FN#374] I lie."

Then he threw himself on As'ad's tomb, groaning and weeping and
lamenting and versifying with these couplets,

"Indeed I longed to share unweal with thee, *
     But Allah than my will willed otherwise:
My grief all blackens 'twixt mine eyes and space, *
     Yet whitens all the blackness from mine eyes:[FN#375]
Of tears they weep these eyne run never dry, *
     And ulcerous flow in vitals never dries:
Right sore it irks me seeing thee in stead[FN#376] *
     Where slave with sovran for once levelled lies."

And his weeping and wailing redoubled; and, after he had ended
his lamentations and his verse, he forsook his friends and
intimates, and denying himself to his women and his family, cut
himself off from the world in the House of Lamentations, where he
passed his time in weeping for his sons. Such was his case; but
as regards Amjad and As'ad they fared on into the desert eating
of the fruits of the earth and drinking of the remnants of the
rain for a full month, till their travel brought them to a
mountain of black flint[FN#377] whose further end was unknown;
and here the road forked, one line lying along the midway height
and the other leading to its head. They took the way trending to
the top and gave not over following it five days, but saw no end
to it and were overcome with weariness, being unused to walking
upon the mountains or elsewhere.[FN#378] At last, despairing of
coming to the last of the road, they retraced their steps and,
taking the other, that led over the midway heights,--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her
permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Princes
Amjad and As'ad returned from the path leading to the Mountain-
head and took that which ran along the midway heights, and walked
through all that day till nightfall, when As'ad, weary with much
travel, said to Amjad, "O my brother, I can walk no farther, for
I am exceeding weak." Replied Amjad, "O my brother, take courage!
May be Allah will send us relief." So they walked on part of the
night, till the darkness closed in upon them, when As'ad became
weary beyond measure of weariness and cried out, "O my brother, I
am worn out and spent with walking," and threw himself upon the
ground and wept. Amjad took him in his arms and walked on with
him, bytimes sitting down to rest till break of day, when they
came to the mountain-top and found there a stream of running
water and by it a pomegranate-tree and a prayer-niche.[FN#379]
They could hardly believe their eyes when they saw it; but,
sitting down by that spring, drank of its water and ate of the
fruit of that granado-tree; after which they lay on the ground
and slept till sunrise, when they washed and bathed in the spring
and, eating of the pomegranates, slept again till the time of
mid-afternoon prayer. Then they thought to continue their
journey, but As'ad could not walk, for both his feet were
swollen. So they abode there three days till they were rested,
after which they set out again and fared on over the mountain
days and nights, tortured by and like to die of thirst, till they
sighted a city gleaming afar off, at which they rejoiced and made
towards it. When they drew near it, they thanked Allah (be His
Name exalted!) and Amjad said to As'ad, "O my brother, sit here,
whilst I go to yonder city and see what it is and whose it is and
where we are in Allah's wide world, that we may know through what
lands we have passed in crossing this mountain, whose skirts had
we followed, we had not reached this city in a whole year. So
praised be Allah for safety!" Replied As'ad, "By Allah, O my
brother, none shall go down into that city save myself, and may I
be thy ransom! If thou leave me alone, be it only for an hour, I
shall imagine a thousand things and be drowned in a torrent of
anxiety on shine account, for I cannot brook shine absence from
me." Amjad rejoined, "Go then and tarry not. So As'ad took some
gold pieces, and leaving his brother to await him, descended the
mountain and ceased not faring on till he entered the city. As he
threaded the streets he was met by an old man age-decrepit, whose
beard flowed down upon his breast and forked in twain;[FN#380] he
bore a walking-staff in his hand and was richly clad, with a
great red turband on his head. When As'ad saw him, he wondered at
his dress and his mien; nevertheless, he went up to him and
saluting him said, "Where be the way to the market, O my master?"
Hearing these words the Shaykh smiled in his face and replied, "O
my son, meseemeth thou art a stranger?" As'ad rejoined, "Yes, I
am a stranger."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.

     When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Shaykh
who met As'ad smiled in his face and said to him, "O my son,
meseemeth thou art a stranger?" and As'ad replied, "Yes, I am a
stranger." Then rejoined the old man, "Verily, thou gladdenest
our country with thy presence, O my son, and thou desolatest
shine own land by reason of shine absence. What wantest thou of
the market?" Quoth As'ad, "O uncle, I have a brother, with whom I
have come from a far land and with whom I have journeyed these
three months; and, when we sighted this city, I left him, who is
my elder brother, upon the mountain and came hither, purposing to
buy victual and what else, and return therewith to him, that we
might feed thereon." Said the old man, "Rejoice in all good, O my
son, and know thou that to-day I give a marriage-feast, to which
I have bidden many guests, and I have made ready plenty of meats,
the best and most delicious that heart can desire. So if thou
wilt come with me to my place, I will give thee freely all thou
lackest without asking thee a price or aught else. Moreover I
will teach thee the ways of this city; and, praised be Allah, O
my son, that I, and none other have happened upon thee." "As thou
wilt," answered As'ad, "do as thou art disposed, but make haste,
for indeed my brother awaiteth me and his whole heart is with
me." The old man took As'ad by the hand and carried him to a
narrow lane, smiling in his face and saying, "Glory be to Him who
hath delivered thee from the people of this city!" And he ceased
not walking till he entered a spacious house, wherein was a
saloon and behold, in the middle of it were forty old men, well
stricken in years, collected together and forming a single ring
as they sat round about a lighted fire, to which they were doing
worship and prostrating themselves.[FN#381] When As'ad saw this,
he was confounded and the hair of his body stood on end though he
knew not what they were; and the Shaykh said to them, "O Elders
of the Fire, how blessed is this day!" Then he called aloud,
saying, "Hello, Ghazbán!" Whereupon there came out to him a tall
black slave of frightful aspect, grim-visaged and flat nosed as
an ape who, when the old man made a sign to him, bent As'ad's
arms behind his back and pinioned them; after which the Shaykh
said to him, "Let him down into the vault under the earth and
there leave him and say to my slave girl Such-an-one, 'Torture
him night and day and give him a cake of bread to eat morning and
evening against the time come of the voyage to the Blue Sea and
the Mountain of Fire, whereon we will slaughter him as a
sacrifice.'" So the black carried him out at another door and,
raising a flag in the floor, discovered a flight of twenty steps
leading to a chamber[FN#382] under the earth, into which he
descended with him and, laying his feet in irons, gave him over
to the slave girl and went away. Meanwhile, the old men said to
one another, "When the day of the Festival of the Fire cometh, we
will sacrifice him on the mountain, as a propitiatory offering
whereby we shall pleasure the Fire." Presently the damsel went
down to him and beat him a grievous beating, till streams of
blood flowed from his sides and he fainted; after which she set
at his head a scone of bread and a cruse of brackish water and
went away and left him. In the middle of the night, he revived
and found himself bound and beaten and sore with beating: so he
wept bitter tears; and recalling his former condition of honour
and prosperity, lordship and dominion, and his separation from
his sire and his exile from his native land.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say,

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when As'ad
found himself bound and beaten and sore with beating he recalled
his whilome condition of honour and prosperity and dominion and
lordship, and he wept and groaned aloud and recited these
couplets,

"Stand by the ruined stead and ask of us; *
     Nor deem we dwell there as was state of us:
The World, that parter, hath departed us; *
     Yet soothes not hate-full hearts the fate of us:
With whips a cursed slave girl scourges us, *
     And teems her breast with rancorous hate of us:
Allah shall haply deign to unpart our lives, *
     Chastise our foes, and end this strait of us."

And when As'ad had spoken his poetry, he put out his hand towards
his head and finding there the crust and the cruse full of
brackish water he ate a bittock, just enough to keep life in him,
and drank a little water, but could get no sleep till morning for
the swarms of bugs[FN#383] and lice. As soon as it was day, the
slave girl came down to him and changed his clothes, which were
drenched with blood and stuck to him, so that his skin came off
with the shirt; wherefor he shrieked aloud and cried, "Alas!" and
said, "O my God, if this be Thy pleasure, increase it upon me! O
Lord, verily Thou art not unmindful of him that oppresseth me; do
Thou then avenge me upon him!" And he groaned and repeated the
following verses,

"Patient, O Allah! to Thy destiny *
     I bow, suffice me what Thou deign decree:
Patient to bear Thy will, O Lord of me, *
     Patient to burn on coals of Ghazá-tree:
They wrong me, visit me with hurt and harm; *
     Haply Thy grace from them shall set me free:
Far be's, O Lord, from thee to spare the wronger *
     O Lord of Destiny my hope's in Thee!"

And what another saith,

"Bethink thee not of worldly state, *
     Leave everything to course of Fate;
For oft a thing that irketh thee *
     Shall in content eventuate;
And oft what strait is shall expand, *
     And what expanded is wax strait.
Allah will do what wills His will *
     So be not thou importunate!
But 'joy the view of coming weal *
     Shall make forget past bale and bate."

And when he had ended his verse, the slave-girl came down upon
him with blows till he fainted again; and, throwing him a flap of
bread and a gugglet of saltish water, went away and left him sad
and lonely, bound in chains of iron, with the blood streaming
from his sides and far from those he loved. So he wept and called
to mind his brother and the honours he erst enjoyed.--And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Twenty-ninth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that As'ad
called to mind his brother and the honours he erst enjoyed; so he
wept and groaned and complained and poured forth tears in floods
and improvised these couplets,

"Easy, O Fate! how long this wrong, this injury, *
     Robbing each morn and eve my brotherhood fro' me?
Is't not time now thou deem this length sufficiency *
     Of woes and, O thou Heart of Rock, show clemency?
My friends thou wrongedst when thou madst each enemy *
     Mock and exult me for thy wrongs, thy tyranny:
My foeman's heart is solaced by the things he saw *
     In me, of strangerhood and lonely misery:
Suffice thee not what came upon my head of dole, *
     Friends lost for evermore, eyes wan and pale of blee?
But must in prison cast so narrow there is naught *
     Save hand to bite, with bitten hand for company;
And tears that tempest down like goodly gift of cloud, *
     And longing thirst whose fires weet no satiety.
Regretful yearnings, singulfs and unceasing sighs, *
     Repine, remembrance and pain's very ecstacy:
Desire I suffer sore and melancholy deep, *
     And I must bide a prey to endless phrenesy:
I find me ne'er a friend who looks with piteous eye, *
     And seeks my presence to allay my misery:
Say, liveth any intimate with trusty love *
     Who for mine ills will groan, my sleepless malady?
To whom moan I can make and, peradventure, he *
     Shall pity eyes that sight of sleep can never see?
The flea and bug suck up my blood, as wight that drinks *
     Wine from the proffering hand of fair virginity:
Amid the lice my body aye remindeth me *
     Of orphan's good in Kázi's claw of villainy:
My home's a sepulchre that measures cubits three, *
     Where pass I morn and eve in chained agony:
My wines are tears, my clank of chains takes music's stead, *
     Cares my dessert of fruit and sorrows are my bed."

And when he had versed his verse and had prosed his prose, he
again groaned and complained and remembered he had been and how
he had been parted from his brother. Thus far concerning him; but
as regards his brother Amjad, he awaited As'ad till mid-day yet
he returned not to him: whereupon Amjad's vitals fluttered, the
pangs of parting were sore upon him and he poured forth abundant
tears,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.

        When it was the Two Hundred and Thirtieth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Amjad
awaited his brother As'ad till mid-day and he returned not to
him, Amjad's vitals fluttered; the pangs of parting were sore
upon him and he poured forth abundant tears, exclaiming, "Alas,
my brother! Alas, my friend! Alas my grief! How I feared me we
should be separated!" Then he descended from the mountain-top
with the tears running down his cheeks; and, entering the city,
ceased not walking till he made the market. He asked the folk the
name of the place and concerning its people and they said, "This
is called the City of the Magians, and its citizens are mostly
given to Fire-worshipping in lieu of the Omnipotent King." Then
he enquired of the City of Ebony and they answered, "Of a truth
it is a year's journey thither by land and six months by sea: it
was governed erst by a King called Armanus; but he took to son-
in-law and made King in his stead a Prince called Kamar al-Zaman
distinguished for justice and munificence, equity and
benevolence." When Amjad heard tell of his father, he groaned and
wept and lamented and knew not whither to go. However, he bought
a something of food and carried it to a retired spot where he sat
down thinking to eat; but, recalling his brother, he fell a-
weeping and swallowed but a morsel to keep breath and body
together, and that against his will. Then he rose and walked
about the city, seeking news of his brother, till he saw a Moslem
tailor sitting in his shop so he sat down by him and told him his
story; whereupon quoth the tailor, "If he have fallen into the
hands of the Magians, thou shalt hardly see him again: yet it may
be Allah will reunite you twain. But thou, O my brother," he
continued wilt thou lodge with me?" Amjad answered, "Yes"; and
the tailor rejoiced at this. So he abode with him many days, what
while the tailor comforted him and exhorted him to patience and
taught him tailoring, till he became expert in the craft. Now one
day he went forth to the sea-shore and washed his clothes; after
which he entered the bath and put on clean raiment; then he
walked about the city, to divert himself with its sights and
presently there met him on the way a woman of passing beauty and
loveliness, without peer for grace and comeliness. When she saw
him she raised her face-veil and signed to him by moving her
eyebrows and her eyes with luring glances, and versified these
couplets,

"I drooped my glance when seen thee on the way *
     As though, O slim-waist! felled by Sol's hot ray:
Thou art the fairest fair that e'er appeared, *
     Fairer to-day than fair of yesterday:[FN#384]
Were Beauty parted, a fifth part of it *
     With Joseph or a part of fifth would stay;
The rest would fly to thee, shine ownest own; *
     Be every soul thy sacrifice, I pray!"

When Amjad heard these her words, they gladdened his heart which
inclined to her and his bowels yearned towards her and the hands
of love sported with him; so he sighed to her in reply and spoke
these couplets,

"Above the rose of cheek is thorn of lance;[FN#385] *
     Who dareth pluck it, rashest chevisance?
Stretch not thy hand towards it, for night long *
     Those lances marred because we snatched a glance!
Say her, who tyrant is and tempter too *
     (Though justice might her tempting power enhance):--
Thy face would add to errors were it veiled; *
     Unveiled I see its guard hath best of chance!
Eye cannot look upon Sol's naked face; *
     But can, when mist-cloud dims his countenance:
The honey-hive is held by honey-bee;[FN#386] *
     Ask the tribe-guards what wants their vigilance?
An they would slay me, let them end their ire *
     Rancorous, and grant us freely to advance:
They're not more murderous, an charge the whole *
     Than charging glance of her who wears the mole."

And hearing these lines from Amjad she sighed with the deepest
sighs and, signing to him again, repeated these couplets,

"'Tis thou hast trodden coyness path not I: *
     Grant me thy favours for the time draws nigh:
O thou who makest morn with light of brow, *
     And with loosed brow-locks night in lift to stye!
Thine idol-aspect made of me thy slave, *
     Tempting as temptedst me in days gone by:
'Tis just my liver fry with hottest love: *
     Who worship fire for God must fire aby:
Thou sellest like of me for worthless price; *
     If thou must sell, ask high of those who buy."

When Amjad heard these her words he said to her, "Wilt thou come
to my lodging or shall I go with thee to shine?" So she hung her
head in shame to the ground and repeated the words of Him whose
Name be exalted, "Men shall have the pre-eminence above women,
because of those advantages wherein Allah hath caused the one of
them to excel the other."[FN#387] Upon this, Amjad took the
hint.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Thirty-first Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Amjad took
the woman's hint and understood that she wished to go with him
whither he was going; he felt himself bounder to find a place
wherein to receive her, but was ashamed to carry her to the house
of his host, the tailor. So he walked on and she walked after
him, and the two ceased not walking from street to street and
place to place, till she was tired and said to him, "O my lord,
where is thy house?" Answered he, "Before us a little way." Then
he turned aside into a handsome by-street, followed by the young
woman, and walked on till he came to the end, when he found it
was no thoroughfare and exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there
is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!" Then raising
his eyes, he saw, at the upper end of the lane a great doer with
two stone benches; but it was locked. So Amjad sat down on one of
the benches and she on the other; and she said to him, "O my
lord, wherefore waitest thou?" He bowed his head awhile to the
ground then raised it and answered, "I am awaiting my Mameluke
who hath the key; for I bade him make me ready meat and drink and
flowers, to deck the wine-service against my return from the
bath." But he said to himself, "Haply the time will be tedious to
her and she will go about her business, leaving me here, when I
will wend my own way." However, as soon as she was weary of long
waiting, she said, "O my lord, thy Mameluke delayeth; and here
are we sitting in the street;" and she arose and took a stone and
went up to the lock. Said Amjad, "Be not in haste, but have
patience till the servant come." However, she hearkened not to
him, but smote the wooden bolt with the stone and broke it in
half, whereupon the door opened. Quoth he, "What possessed thee
to do this deed?" Quoth she, "Pooh, pooh, my lord! what matter
it? Is not the house thy house and thy place?" He said, "There
was no need to break the bolt." Then the damsel entered, to the
confusion of Amjad, who knew not what to do for fear of the
people of the house; but she said to him, "Why dost thou not
enter, O light of mine eyes and core of my heart?" Replied he, "I
hear and obey; but my servant tarrieth long and I know not if he
have done aught of what I bade him and specially enjoined upon
him, or not." Hereupon he entered, sore in fear of the people of
the house, and found himself in a handsome saloon with four
dais'd recesses, each facing other, and containing closets and
raised seats, all bespread with stuffs of silk and brocade; and
in the midst was a jetting fountain of costly fashion, on whose
margin rested a covered tray of meats, with a leather tablecloth
hanging up and gem-encrusted dishes, full of fruits and sweet-
scented flowers. Hard by stood drinking vessels and a candlestick
with a single wax-candle therein; and the place was full of
precious stuffs and was ranged with chests and stools, and on
each seat lay a parcel of clothes upon which was a purse full of
monies, gold and silver. The floor was paved with marble and the
house bore witness in every part to its owner's fortune. When
Amjad saw all this, he was confounded at his case and said to
himself, "I am a lost man! Verily we are Allah's and to Allah we
are returning!" As for the damsel, when she sighted the place she
rejoiced indeed with a joy nothing could exceed, and said to him,
"By Allah, O my lord, thy servant hath not failed of his duty;
for see, he hath swept the place and cooked the meat and set on
the fruit; and indeed I come at the best of times." But he paid
no heed to her, his heart being taken up with fear of the house-
folk; and she said, "Fie, O my lord, O my heart! What aileth thee
to stand thus?" Then she sighed and, giving him a buss which
sounded like the cracking of a walnut, said, "O my lord, an thou
have made an appointment with other than with me, I will gird my
middle and serve her and thee. Amjad laughed from a heart full of
rage and wrath and came forwards and sat down, panting and saying
to himself, "Alack, mine ill death and doom when the owner of the
place shall return!" Then she seated herself by him and fell to
toying and laughing, whilst Amjad sat careful and frowning,
thinking a thousand thoughts and communing with himself,
"Assuredly the master of the house cannot but come, and then what
shall I say to him? he needs must kill me and my life will be
lost thus foolishly." Presently she rose and, tucking up her
sleeves, took a tray of food on which she laid the cloth and then
set it before Amjad and began to eat, saying, "Eat, O my lord."
So he came forward and ate; but the food was not pleasant to him;
on the contrary he ceased not to look towards the door, till the
damsel had eaten her fill, when she took away the tray of the
meats and, setting on the dessert, fell to eating of the dried
fruits. Then she brought the wine service and opening the jar,
filled a cup and handed it to Amjad, who took it from her hand
saying to him self, ' Ah, ah! and well away, when the master of
the house cometh and seeth me!"; and he kept his eyes fixed on
the threshold, even with cup in hand. While he was in this case,
lo! in came the master of the house, who was a white slave, one
of the chief men of the city, being Master of the Horse[FN#388]
to the King. He had fitted up this saloon for his pleasures, that
he might make merry therein and be private with whom he would,
and he had that day bidden a youth whom he loved and had made
this entertainment for him. Now the name of this slave was
Bahádur,[FN#389] and he was open of hand, generous, munificent
and fain of alms-giving and charitable works.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

      When it wad the Two Hundred and Thirty-second Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Bahadur, the Master of the Horse and the owner of the house, came
to the door of the saloon and found it open, he entered slowly
and softly and looking in, with head advanced and out stretched
neck, saw Amjad and the girl sitting before the dish of fruit and
the wine-jar in front of them. Now Amjad at that moment had the
cup in his hand and his face turned to the door; and when his
glance met Bahadur's eyes his hue turned pale yellow and his
side-muscles quivered, so seeing his trouble Bahadur signed to
him with his finger on his lips, as much as to say, "Be silent
and come hither to me." Whereupon he set down the cup and rose
and the damsel cried, "Whither away?" He shook his head and,
signing to her that he wished to make water, went out into the
passage barefoot. Now when he saw Bahadur he knew him for the
master of the house; so he hastened to him and, kissing his
hands, said to him, "Allah upon thee, O my lord, ere thou do me a
hurt, hear what I have to say." Then he told him who he was from
first to last and acquainted him with what caused him to quit his
native land and royal state, and how he had not entered his house
of his free will, but that it was the girl who had broken the
lock-bolt and done all this.[FN#390] When Bahadur heard his story
and knew that he was a King's son, he felt for him and, taking
compassion on him, said, "Hearken to me, O Amjad, and do what I
bid thee and I will guarantee thy safety from that thou fearest;
but, if thou cross me, I will kill thee." Amjad replied, "Command
me as thou wilt: I will not gainsay thee in aught; no, never, for
I am the freedman of thy bounty." Rejoined Bahadur, "Then go back
forthwith into the saloon, sit down in thy place and be at peace
and at shine ease; I will presently come in to thee, and when
thou seest me (remember my name is Bahadur) do thou revile me and
rail at me, saying, 'What made thee tarry till so late?' And
accept no excuse from me; nay, so far from it, rise and beat me;
and, if thou spare me, I will do away thy life. Enter now and
make merry and whatsoever thou seekest of me at this time I will
bring thee forthwith; and do thou spend this night as thou wilt
and on the morrow wend thy way. This I do in honour of thy
strangerhood, for I love the stranger and hold myself bounder to
do him devoir." So Amjad kissed his hand, and, returning to the
saloon with his face clad in its natural white and red, at once
said to the damsel, "O my mistress, thy presence hath gladdened
this shine own place and ours is indeed a blessed night." Quoth
the girl, "Verily I see a wonderful change in thee, that thou now
welcomest me so cordially!" So Amjad answered, "By Allah, O my
lady, methought my servant Bahadur had robbed me of some
necklaces of jewels, worth ten thousand diners each; however,
when I went out but now in concern for this, I sought for them
and found them in their place. I know not why the slave tarrieth
so long and needs must I punish him for it." She was satisfied
with his answer, and they sported and drank and made merry and
ceased not to be so till near sundown, when Bahadur came in to
them, having changed his clothes and girt his middle and put on
shoes, such as are worn of Mamelukes. He saluted and kissed the
ground; then held his hands behind him and stood, with his head
hanging down, as one who confesseth to a fault. So Amjad looked
at him with angry eyes and asked, "Why hast thou tarried till
now, O most pestilent of slaves?" Answered Bahadur, "O my lord, I
was busy washing my clothes and knew not of thy being here; for
our appointed time was nightfall and not day-tide." But Amjad
cried out at him, saying, "Thou liest, O vilest of slaves! By
Allah, I must needs beat thee." So he rose and, throwing Bahadur
prone on the ground, took a stick and beat him gently; but the
damsel sprang up and, snatching the stick from his hand, came
down upon Bahadur so lustily, that in extreme pain the tears ran
from his eyes and he ground his teeth together and called out for
succour; whilst Amjad cried out to the girl "Don't"; and she
cried out, "Let me satisfy my anger upon him!" till at last he
pulled the stick out of her hand and pushed her away. So Bahadur
rose and, wiping away his tears from his cheeks, waited upon them
the while, after which he swept the hall and lighted the lamps;
but as often as he went in and out, the lady abused him and
cursed him till Amjad was wroth with her and said, "For Almighty
Allah's sake leave my Mameluke; he is not used to this." Then
they sat and ceased not eating and drinking (and Bahadur waiting
upon them) till midnight when, being weary with service and
beating, he fell asleep in the midst of the hall and snored and
snorted; whereupon the damsel, who was drunken with wine, said to
Amjad, "Arise, take the sword hanging yonder and cut me off this
slave's head; and, if thou do it not, I will be the death of
thee!" "What possesseth thee to slay my slave?" asked Amjad; and
she answered, "Our joyaunce will not be complete but by his
death. If thou wilt not kill him, I will do it myself." Quoth
Amjad, "By Allah's rights to thee, do not this thing!" Quoth she,
"It must perforce be;" and, taking down the sword, drew it and
made at Bahadur to kill him; but Amjad said in his mind, "This
man hath entreated us courteously and sheltered us and done us
kindness and made himself my slave: shall we requite him by
slaughtering him? This shall never be!" Then he said to the
woman, "If my Mameluke must be killed, better I should kill him
than thou." So saying, he took the sword from her and, raising
his hand, smote her on the neck and made her head fly from her
body. It fell upon Bahadur who awoke and sat up and opened his
eyes, when he saw Amjad standing by him and in his hand the sword
dyed with blood, and the damsel lying dead. He enquired what had
passed, and Amjad told him all she had said, adding, "Nothing
would satisfy her but she must slay thee; and this is her
reward." Then Bahadur rose and, kissing the Prince's hand, said
to him, "Would to Heaven thou hadst spared her! but now there is
nothing for it but to rid us of her without stay or delay, before
the day-break." Then he girded his loins and took the body,
wrapped it in an Abá-cloak and, laying it in a large basket of
palm-leaves, he shouldered it saying, "Thou art a stranger here
and knowest no one: so sit thou in this place and await my return
till day-break. If I come back to thee, I will assuredly do thee
great good service and use my endeavours to have news of thy
brother; but if by sunrise I return not, know that all is over
with me; and peace be on thee, and the house and all it
containeth of stuffs and money are shine." Then he fared forth
from the saloon bearing the basket; and, threading the streets,
he made for the salt sea, thinking to throw it therein: but as he
drew near the shore, he turned and saw that the Chief of Police
and his officers had ranged themselves around him; and, on
recognising him, they wondered and opened the basket, wherein
they found the slain woman. So they seized him and laid him in
bilboes all that night till the morning, when they carried him
and the basket, as it was, to the King and reported the case. The
King was sore enraged when he looked upon the slain and said to
Bahadur, "Woe to thee! Thou art always so doing; thou killest
folk and castest them into the sea and takest their goods. How
many murders hast thou done ere this?" Thereupon Bahadur hung his
head.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.

      When it was the Two  Hundred and Thirty-third Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Bahadur
hung down his head groundwards before the King, who cried out at
him, saying, "Woe to thee! Who killed this girl?" He replied, "O
my lord! I killed her, and there is no Majesty and there is no
Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!"[FN#391] So the
King in his anger, commanded to hang him; and the hangman went
down with him by the King's commandment, and the Chief of Police
accompanied him with a crier who called upon all the folk to
witness the execution of Bahadur, the King's Master of the Horse;
and on this wise they paraded him through the main streets and
the market-streets. This is how it fared with Bahadur; but as
regards Amjad, he awaited his host's return till the day broke
and the sun rose, and when he saw that he came not, he exclaimed,
"There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the
Glorious, the Great! Would I knew what is become of him?" And, as
he sat musing behold, he heard the crier proclaiming Bahadur's
sentence and bidding the people to see the spectacle of his
hanging at midday; whereat he wept and exclaimed, "Verily, we are
Allah's and to Him we are returning! He meaneth to sacrifice
himself unjustly for my sake, when I it was who slew her. By
Allah, this shall never be!" Then he went from the saloon and,
shutting the door after him, hurriedly threaded the streets till
he overtook Bahadur, when he stood before the Chief of Police and
said to him, "O my lord, put not Bahadur to death, for he is
innocent. By Allah, none killed her but I." Now when the Captain
of Police heard these words, he took them both and, carrying them
before the King, acquainted him with what Amjad had said;
whereupon he looked at the Prince and asked him, "Didst thou kill
the damsel?" He answered, "Yes" and the King said, "Tell me why
thou killedst her, and speak the truth." Replied Amjad, "O King,
it is indeed a marvellous event and a wondrous matter that hath
befallen me: were it graven with needles on the eye-corners, it
would serve as a warner to whoso would be warned!" Then he told
him his whole story and informed him of all that had befallen him
and his brother, first and last; whereat the King was much
startled and surprised and said to him, "Know that now I find
thee to be excusable; but list, O youth! Wilt thou be my Wazír?"
"Hearkening and obedience," answered Amjad whereupon the King
bestowed magnificent dresses of honour on him and Bahadur and
gave him a handsome house, with eunuchs and officers and all
things needful, appointing him stipends and allowances and
bidding him make search for his brother As'ad. So Amjad sat down
in the seat of the Wazirate and governed and did justice and
invested and deposed and took and gave. Moreover, he sent out a
crier to cry his brother throughout the city, and for many days
made proclamation in the main streets and market-streets, but
heard no news of As'ad nor happened on any trace of him. Such was
his case; but as regards his brother, the Magi ceased not to
torture As'ad night and day and eve and morn for a whole year's
space, till their festival drew near, when the old man
Bahram[FN#392] made ready for the voyage and fitted out a ship
for himself.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Thirty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Bahram, the
Magian, having fitted out a ship for the voyage, took As'ad and
put him in a chest which he locked and had it transported on
board. Now it so came to pass that, at the very time of shipping
it, Amjad was standing to divert himself by looking upon the sea;
and when he saw the men carrying the gear and shipping it, his
heart throbbed and he called to his pages to bring him his beast.
Then, mounting with a company of his officers, he rode down to
the sea-side and halted before the Magian's ship, which he
commended his men to board and search. They did his bidding, and
boarded the vessel and rummaged in every part, but found nothing;
so they returned and told Amjad, who mounted again and rode back.
But he felt troubled in mind; and when he reached his place and
entered his palace, he cast his eyes on the wall and saw written
thereon two lines which were these couplets,

"My friends! if ye are banisht from mine eyes, *
     From heart and mind ye ne'er go wandering:
But ye have left me in my woe, and rob *
     Rest from my eyelids while ye are slumbering."

And seeing them Amjad thought of his brother and wept. Such was
his case; but as for Bahram, the Magian, he embarked and shouted
and bawled to his crew to make sail in all haste. So they shook
out the sails and departed and ceased not to fare on many days
and nights; and, every other day, Bahram took out As'ad and gave
him a bit of bread and made him drink a sup of water, till they
drew near the Mountain of Fire. Then there came out on them a
storm-wind and the sea rose against them, so that the ship was
driven out of her course till she took a wrong line and fell into
strange waters; and, at last they came in sight of a city builded
upon the shore, with a castle whose windows overlooked the main.
Now the ruler of this city was a Queen called Marjánah, and the
captain said to Bahram, "O my lord, we have strayed from our
course and come to the island of Queen Marjanah, who is a devout
Moslemah; and, if she know that we are Magians, she will take our
ship and slay us to the last man. Yet needs must we put in here
to rest and refit." Quoth Bahram, "Right is thy recking, and
whatso thou seest fit that will I do!" Said the ship master, "If
the Queen summon us and question us, how shall we answer her?";
and Bahram replied, "Let us clothe this Moslem we have with us in
a Mameluke's habit and carry him ashore with us, so that when the
Queen sees him, she will suppose and say, 'This is a slave.' As
for me I will tell her that I am a slave-dealer[FN#393] who buys
and sells white slaves, and that I had with me many but have sold
all save this one, whom I retained to keep my accounts, for he
can read and write." And the captain said "This device should
serve." Presently they reached the city and slackened sail and
cast the anchors; and the ship lay still, when behold, Queen
Marjanah came down to them, attended by her guards and, halting
before the vessel, called out to the captain, who landed and
kissed the ground before her. Quoth she, "What is the lading of
this thy ship and whom hast thou with thee?"" Quoth he, "O Queen
of the Age, I have with me a merchant who dealeth in slaves." And
she said, "Hither with him to me"; whereupon Bahram came ashore
to her, with As'ad walking behind him in a slave's habit, and
kissed the earth before her. She asked, "What is thy condition?";
and he answered, "I am a dealer in chattels." Then she looked at
As'ad and, taking him for a Mameluke, asked him, "What is thy
name, O youth?" He answered, "Dost thou ask my present or my
former name?" "Hast thou then two names?" enquired she, and he
replied (and indeed his voice was choked with tears), "Yes; my
name aforetime was Al-As'ad, the most happy, but now it is Al-
Mu'tarr--Miserrimus." Her heart inclined to him and she said,
"Canst thou write?" "Yes,'' answered he, and she gave him ink-
case and reed-pen and paper and said to him, "Write somewhat that
I may see it." So he wrote these two couplets,

"What can the slave do when pursued by Fate, *
     O justest Judge! whatever be his state?[FN#394]
Whom God throws hand bound in the depths and says, *
     Beware lest water should thy body wet?"[FN#395]

Now when she read these lines, she had ruth upon him and said to
Bahram, "Sell me this slave." He replied, "O my lady, I cannot
sell him, for I have parted with all the rest and none is left
with me but he." Quoth the Queen, "I must need have him of thee,
either by sale or way of gift." But quoth Bahram, "I will neither
sell him nor give him." Whereat she was wroth and, taking As'ad
by the hand, carried him up to the castle and sent to Bahram,
saying, "Except thou set sail and depart our city this very
night, I will seize all thy goods and break up thy ship." Now
when the message reached the Magian, he grieved with sore grief
and cried, "Verily this voyage is on no wise to be commended."
Then he arose and made ready and took all he needed and awaited
the coming of the night to resume his voyage, saying to the
sailors, "Provide yourselves with your things and fill your
water-skins, that we may set sail at the last of the night." So
the sailors did their business and awaited the coming of
darkness. Such was their case; but as regards Queen Marjanah,
when she had brought As'ad into the castle, she opened the
casements overlooking the sea and bade her handmaids bring food.
They set food before As'ad and herself and both ate, after which
the Queen called for wine.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of
day and ceased saying her permitted say.

      When it was the Two Hundred and Thirty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Queen
Marjanah bade her handmaids bring wine and they set it before
her, she fell to drinking with As'ad. Now, Allah (be He extolled
and exalted!) filled her heart with love for the Prince and she
kept filling his cup and handing it to him till his reason fled;
and presently he rose and left the hall to satisfy a call of
nature. As he passed out of the saloon he saw an open door
through which he went and walked on till his walk brought him to
a vast garden full of all manner fruits and flowers; and, sitting
down under a tree, he did his occasion. Then he rose and went up
to a jetting fountain in the garden and made the lesser ablution
and washed his hands and face, after which he would have risen to
go away; but the air smote him and he fell back, with his clothes
undone and slept, and night overcame him thus. So far concerning
him; but as concerns Bahram, the night being come, he cried out
to his crew, saying, "Set sail and let us away!"; and the'
answered, "We hear and obey, but wait till we fill our water-
skins and then we will set sail." So they landed with their water
skins and went round about the castle, and found nothing but
garden-walls: whereupon they climbed over into the garden and
followed the track of feet, which led them to the fountain; and
there they found As'ad lying on his back. They knew him and were
glad to find him; and, after filling their water-skins, they bore
him off and climbed the wall again with him and carried him back
in haste to Bahram to whom they said, "Hear the good tidings of
thy winning thy wish; and gladden thy heart and beat thy drums
and sound thy pipes; for thy prisoner, whom Queen Marjanah took
from thee by force, we have found and brought back to thee"; and
they threw As'ad down before him. When Bahram saw him, his heart
leapt for joy and his breast swelled with gladness. Then he
bestowed largesse on the sailors and bade them set sail in haste.
So they sailed forthright, intending to make the Mountain of Fire
and stayed not their course till the morning. This is how it
fared with them; but as regards Queen Marjanah, she abode awhile,
after As'ad went down from her, awaiting his return in vain for
he came not; thereupon she rose and sought him, yet found no
trace of him. Then she bade her women light flambeaux and look
for him, whilst she went forth in person and, seeing the garden-
door open, knew that he had gone thither. So she went out into
the garden and finding his sandals lying by the fountain,
searched the place in every part, but came upon no sign of him;
and yet she gave not over the search till morning. Then she
enquired for the ship and they told her, "The vessel set sail in
the first watch of the night"; wherefor she knew that they had
taken As'ad with them, and this was grievous to her and she was
sore an-angered. She bade equip ten great ships forthwith and,
making ready for fight, embarked in one of the ten with her
Mamelukes and slave-women and men-at-arms, all splendidly
accoutred and weaponed for war. They spread the sails and she
said to the captains, "If you overtake the Magian's ship, ye
shall have of me dresses of honour and largesse of money; but if
you fail so to do, I will slay you to the last man." Whereat fear
and great hope animated the crews and they sailed all that day
and the night and the second day and the third day till, on the
fourth they sighted the ship of Bahram, the Magian, and before
evening fell the Queen's squadron had surrounded it on all sides,
just as Bahram had taken As'ad forth of the chest and was beating
and torturing him, whilst the Prince cried out for help and
deliverance, but found neither helper nor deliverer: and the
grievous bastinado sorely tormented him. Now while so occupied,
Bahram chanced to look up and, seeing himself encompassed by the
Queen's ships, as the white of the eye encompasseth the black, he
gave himself up for lost and groaned and said, "Woe to thee, O
As'ad! This is all out of thy head." Then taking him by the hand
he bade his men throw him overboard and cried, "By Allah I will
slay thee before I die myself!" So they carried him along by the
hands and feet and cast him into the sea and he sank; but Allah
(be He extolled and exalted!) willed that his life be saved and
that his doom be deferred; so He caused him to sink and rise
again and he struck out with his hands and feet, till the
Almighty gave him relief, and sent him deliverance; and the waves
bore him far from the Magian's ship and threw him ashore. He
landed, scarce crediting his escape, and once more on land he
doffed his clothes and wrung them and spread them out to dry;
whilst he sat naked and weeping over his condition, and bewailing
his calamities and mortal dangers, and captivity and stranger
hood. And presently he repeated these two couplets,

"Allah, my patience fails: I have no ward; *
     My breast is straitened and clean cut my cord;
To whom shall wretched slave of case complain *
     Save to his Lord? O thou of lords the Lord!"

Then, having ended his verse, he rose and donned his clothes but
he knew not whither to go or whence to come; so he fed on the
herbs of the earth and the fruits of the trees and he drank of
the streams, and fared on night and day till he came in sight of
a city; whereupon he rejoiced and hastened his pace; but when he
reached it,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say.

      When it Was the Two Hundred and Thirty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when he
reached the city the shades of evening closed around him and the
gates were shut. Now by the decrees of Pate and man's lot this
was the very city wherein he had been a prisoner and to whose
King his brother Amjad was Minister. When As'ad saw the gate was
locked, he turned back and made for the burial-ground, where
finding a tomb without a door, he entered therein and lay down
and fell asleep, with his face covered by his long
sleeve.[FN#396] Meanwhile, Queen Marjanah, coming up with
Bahram's ship, questioned him of As'ad. Now the Magian, when
Queen Marjanah overtook him with her ships, baffled her by his
artifice and gramarye; swearing to her that he was not with him
and that he knew nothing of him. She searched the ship, but found
no trace of her friend, so she took Bahram and, carrying him back
to her castle, would have put him to death, but he ransomed
himself from her with all his good and his ship; and she released
him and his men. They went forth from her hardly believing in
their deliverance, and fared on ten days' journey till they came
to their own city and found the gate shut, it being eventide. So
they made for the burial-ground, thinking to lie the night there
and, going round about the tombs, as Fate and Fortune would have
it, saw the building wherein As'ad lay wide open; whereat Bahram
marvelled and said, "I must look into this sepulchre." Then he
entered and found As'ad lying in a corner fast asleep, with his
head covered by his sleeve; so he raised his head, and looking in
his face, knew him for the man on whose account he had lost his
good and his ship, and cried, "What! art thou yet alive?" Then he
bound him and gagged him without further parley, and carried him
to his house, where he clapped heavy shackles on his feet and
lowered him into the underground dungeon aforesaid prepared for
the tormenting of Moslems, and he bade his daughter by name
Bostán,[FN#397] torture him night and day, till the next year,
when they would again visit the Mountain of Fire and there offer
him up as a sacrifice. Then he beat him grievously and locking
the dungeon door upon him, gave the keys to his daughter. By and
by, Bostan opened the door and went down to beat him, but finding
him a comely youth and a sweet-faced with arched brows and eyes
black with nature's Kohl,[FN#398] she fell in love with him and
asked him, "What is thy name?" "My name is As'ad," answered he;
whereat she cried, "Mayst thou indeed be happy as thy
name,[FN#399] and happy be thy days! Thou deservest not torture
and blows, and I see thou hast been injuriously entreated." And
she comforted him with kind words and loosed his bonds. Then she
questioned him of the religion of Al-Islam and he told her that
it was the true and right Faith and that our lord Mohammed had
approved himself by surpassing miracles[FN#400] and signs
manifest, and that fire-worship is harmful and not profitable;
and he went on to expound to her the tenets of Al-Islam till she
was persuaded and the love of the True Faith entered her heart.
Then, as Almighty Allah had mixed up with her being a fond
affection for As'ad, she pronounced the Two Testimonies[FN#401]
of the Faith and became of the people of felicity. After this,
she brought him meat and drink and talked with him and they
prayed together: moreover, she made him chicken stews and fed him
therewith, till he regained strength and his sickness left him
and he was restored to his former health. Such things befel him
with the daughter of Bahram, the Magian; and so it happened that
one day she left him and stood at the house-door when behold, she
heard the crier crying aloud and saying, "Whoso hath with him a
handsome young man, whose favour is thus and thus, and bringeth
him forth, shall have all he seeketh of money; but if any have
him and deny it, he shall be hanged over his own door and his
property shall be plundered and his blood go for naught." Now
As'ad had acquainted Bostan bint Bahram with his whole history:
so, when she heard the crier, she knew that it was he who was
sought for and, going down to him, told him the news. Then he
fared forth and made for the mansion of the Wazir, whom, when
As'ad saw, exclaimed, "By Allah, this Minister is my brother
Amjad!" Then he went up (and the damsel walking behind him) to
the Palace, where he again saw his brother, and threw himself
upon him; whereupon Amjad also knew him and fell upon his neck
and they embraced each other, whilst the Wazir's Mamelukes
dismounted and stood round them. They lay awhile insensible and,
when they came to themselves, Amjad took his brother and carried
him to the Sultan, to whom he related the whole story, and the
Sultan charged him to plunder Bahram's house.--And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

     When it was the Two Hundred and Thirty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Sultan
ordered Amjad to plunder Bahram's house and to hang its owner. So
Amjad despatched thither for that purpose a company of men, who
sacked the house and took Bahram and brought his daughter to the
Wazir by whom she was received with all honour, for As'ad had
told his brother the torments he had suffered and the kindness
she had done him. Thereupon Amjad related in his turn to As'ad
all that had passed between himself and the damsel; and how he
had escaped hanging and had become Wazir; and they made moan,
each to other, of the anguish they had suffered for separation.
Then the Sultan summoned Bahram and bade strike off his head; but
he said, "O most mighty King, art thou indeed resolved to put me
to death?" Replied the King, "Yes, except thou save thyself by
becoming a Moslem." Quoth Bahram, "O King, bear with me a little
while!" Then he bowed his head groundwards and presently raising
it again, made pro fession of The Faith and islamised at the
hands of the Sultan. They all rejoiced at his conversion and
Amjad and As'ad told him all that had befallen them, whereat he
wondered and said, "O my lords, make ready for the journey and I
will depart with you and carry you back to your father's court in
a ship." At this they rejoiced and wept with sore weeping but he
said, "O my lords, weep not for your departure, for it shall
reunite you with those you love, even as were Ni'amah and Naomi."
"And what befel Ni'amah and Naomi?" asked they. "They tell,"
replied Bahram, "(but Allah alone is All knowing) the following
tale of



End of Vol. 3



                    Arabian Nights, Volume 3
                           Footnotes



[FN#1] This "horripilation," for which we have the poetical term
"goose-flesh," is often mentioned in Hindu as in Arab literature.

[FN#2] How often we have heard this in England!

[FN#3] As a styptic.  The scene in the text has often been
enacted in Egypt where a favourite feminine mode of murdering men
is by beating and bruising the testicles.  The Fellahs are
exceedingly clever in inventing methods of manslaughter.  For
some years bodies were found that bore no outer mark of violence,
and only Frankish inquisitiveness discovered that the barrel of a
pistol had been passed up the anus and the weapon discharged
internally Murders of this description are known in English
history; but never became popular practice.

[FN#4] Arab. "Zakar," that which betokens masculinity.  At the
end of the tale we learn that she also gelded him; thus he was a
"Sandal)," a rasé.

[FN#5] See vol. i. p. 104. {see Volume 1, Note 188}

[FN#6] The purity and intensity of her love had attained to a
something of prophetic strain.

[FN#7] Lane corrupts this Persian name to Sháh Zemán (i. 568).

[FN#8] i.e. the world, which includes the ideas of Fate, Time,
Chance.

[FN#9] Arab. "Bárid," silly, noyous, contemptible; as in the
proverb

     Two things than ice are colder cold:--
     An old man young, a young man old.

A "cold-of-countenance"=a fool: "May Allah make cold thy
face!"=may it show want and misery. "By Allah, a cold speech!"=a
silly or abusive tirade (Pilgrimage, ii. 22).

[FN#10] The popular form is, "often the ear loveth before the
eye."

[FN#11] Not the first time that royalty has played this prank,
nor the last, perhaps.

[FN#12] i.e. the Lady Dunya.

[FN#13] These magazines are small strongly-built rooms on the
ground floor, where robbery is almost impossible.

[FN#14] Lit. "approbation," "benediction"; also the Angel who
keeps the Gates of Paradise and who has allowed one of the
Ghilmán (or Wuldán) the boys of supernatural beauty that wait
upon the Faithful, to wander forth into this wicked world.

[FN#15] In Europe this would be a plurale majestatis, used only
by Royalty. In Arabic it has no such significance, and even the
lower orders apply it to themselves; although it often has a
soupçon of "I and thou."

[FN#16] Man being an "extract of despicable water" (Koran xxxii.
7) ex spermate genital), which Mr. Rodwell renders "from germs of
life," "from sorry water."

[FN#17] i.e. begotten by man's seed in the light of salvation
(Núr al-hudá).

[FN#18] The rolls of white (camphor-like) scarf-skin and sordes
which come off under the bathman's glove become by miracle of
Beauty, as brown musk. The Rubber or Shampooer is called in Egypt
"Mukayyis" (vulgarly "Mukayyisáti") or "bagman," from his "Kís,"
a bag-glove of coarse woollen stuff. To "Johnny Raws" he never
fails to show the little rolls which come off the body and prove
to them how unclean they are, but the material is mostly dead
scarf-skin

[FN#19] The normal phrase on such occasions (there is always a
"dovetail" de rigueur) "Allah give thee profit!"

[FN#20] i.e. We are forced to love him only, and ignore giving
him a rival (referring to Koranic denunciations of "Shirk," or
attributing a partner to Allah, the religion of plurality,
syntheism not polytheism): see, he walks tottering under the
weight of his back parts wriggling them whilst they are rounded
like the revolving heavens.

[FN#21] Jannat al-Na'ím (Garden of Delight); the fifth of the
seven Paradises made of white diamond; the gardens and the
plurality being borrowed from the Talmud. Mohammed's Paradise, by
the by, is not a greater failure than Dante's. Only ignorance or
pious fraud asserts it to be wholly sensual; and a single verse
is sufficient refutation: "Their prayer therein shall be 'Praise
unto thee, O. Allah!' and their salutation therein shall be
'Peace!' and the end of their prayer shall be, 'Praise unto God,
the Lord of all creatures"' (Koran x. 10-11). See also lvi. 24-
26. It will also be an intellectual condition wherein knowledge
will greatly be increased (lxxxviii viii. 17-20). Moreover the
Moslems, far more logical than Christians, admit into Paradise
the so-called "lower animals."

[FN#22] Sed vitam faciunt balnea, vine, Venus! The Hammam to
Easterns is a luxury as well as a necessity; men sit there for
hours talking chiefly of money and their prowess with the fair;
and women pass half the day in it complaining of their husbands'
over-amativeness and contrasting their own chaste and modest
aversion to camel congress.

[FN#23] The frigidarium or cold room, coolness being delightful
to the Arab.

[FN#24] The calidarium or hot room of the bath.

[FN#25] The Angel who acts door-keeper of Hell; others say he
specially presides over the torments of the damned (Koran xliii.
78).

[FN#26] The Door-keeper of Heaven before mentioned who, like the
Guebre Zamiyád has charge of the heavenly lads and lasses, and
who is often charged by poets with letting them slip.

[FN#27] Lane (i. 616), says "of wine, milk, sherbet, or any other
beverage." Here it is wine, a practice famed in Persian poetry,
especially by Hafiz, but most distasteful to a European stomach.
We find the Mu allakah of Imr al-Keys noticing "our morning
draught." Nott (Hafiz) says a "cheerful cup of wine in the
morning was a favourite indulgence with the more luxurious
Persians. And it was not uncommon among the Easterns, to salute
friend by saying."May your morning potation be agreeable to you!"
In the present day this practice is confined to regular
debauchees.

[FN#28] Koran xii. 31. The words spoken by Zulaykhá's women
friends and detractors whom she invited to see Beauty Joseph.

[FN#29] A formula for averting fascination. Koran, chaps. cxiii.
1. "Falak" means "cleaving" hence the breaking forth of light
from darkness, a "wonderful instance of the Divine power."

[FN#30] The usual delicate chaff.

[FN#31] Such letters are generally written on a full-sized sheet
of paper ("notes" are held slighting in the East) and folded till
the breadth is reduced to about one inch. The edges are gummed,
the ink, much like our Indian ink, is smeared with the finger
upon the signet ring; the place where it is to be applied is
slightly wetted with the tongue and the seal is stamped across
the line of junction to secure privacy. I have given a specimen
of an original love-letter of the kind in "Scinde, or the Unhappy
Valley," chaps. iv.

[FN#32] Arab. "Salb" which may also mean hanging, but the usual
term for the latter in The Nights is "shanak." Crucifixion,
abolished by the superstitious Constantine, was practised as a
servile punishment as late as the days of Mohammed Ali Pasha the
Great e malefactors were nailed and tied to the patibulum or
cross-piece without any sup pedaneum or foot-rest and left to
suffer tortures from flies and sun, thirst and hunger. They often
lived three days and died of the wounds mortifying and the
nervous exhaustion brought on by cramps and convulsions. In many
cases the corpses were left to feed the kites and crows; and this
added horror to the death. Moslems care little for mere hanging.
Whenever a fanatical atrocity is to be punished, the malefactor
should be hung in pig-skin, his body burnt and the ashes publicly
thrown into a common cesspool.

[FN#33] Arab "Shaytán" the insolent or rebellious one is a common
term of abuse. The word I. Koramc, and borrowed as usual from the
Jews. "Satan" occurs four times in the O.T. of which two are in
Job where, however, he is a subordinate angel.

[FN#34] Arab. "Alak" from the Koran xxii. 5. " O men...consider
that we first created you of dust (Adam); afterwards of seed
(Rodwell's "moist germs of life"); afterwards of a little
coagulated (or clots of) blood." It refers to all mankind except
Adam, Eve and Isa. Also chaps. xcvi. 2, which, as has been said
was probably the first composed at Meccah. Mr. Rodwell (v. 10)
translates by 'Servant of God" what should be "Slave of Allah,"
alluding to Mohammed's original name Abdullah. See my learned
friend Aloys Sprenger, Leben, etc., i.155.

[FN#35] The Hindus similarly exaggerate: "He was ready to leap
out of his skin in his delight" (Katha, etc., p. 443).

[FN#36] A star in the tail of the Great Bear, one of the "Banát
al-Na'ash," or a star close to the second. Its principal use is
to act foil to bright Sohayl (Canopus) as in the beginning of
Jámí's Layla-Majnún:--

     To whom Thou'rt hid, day is darksome night:
     To whom shown, Sohá as Sohayl is bright.

See also al-Hariri (xxxii. and xxxvi.). The saying, "I show her
Soha and she shows me the moon" (A. P. i. 547) arose as follows.
In the Ignorance a beautiful Amazon defied any man to take her
maidenhead; and a certain Ibn al-Ghazz won the game by struggling
with her till she was nearly senseless. He then asked her, "How
is thine eye-sight: dost thou see Soha?" and she, in her
confusion, pointed to the moon and said, "That is it!"

[FN#37] The moon being masculine (lupus) and the sun feminine.

[FN#38] The "five Shaykhs" must allude to that number of Saints
whose names are doubtful; it would be vain to offer conjectures.
Lane and his "Sheykh" (i. 617) have tried and failed.

[FN#39] The beauties of nature seem always to provoke hunger in
Orientals, especially Turks, as good news in Englishmen.

[FN#40] Pers. "Lájuward": Arab. "Lázuward"; prob. the origin of
our "azure," through the Romaic           and the Ital. azzurro;
and, more evidently still, of lapis lazuli, for which do not see
the Dictionaries.

[FN#41] Arab. "Maurid." the desert-wells where caravans drink:
also the way to water wells.

[FN#42] The famous Avicenna, whom the Hebrews called Aben Sina.
The early European Arabists, who seem to have learned Arabic
through Hebrew, borrowed their corruption, and it long kept its
place in Southern Europe.

[FN#43] According to the Hindus there are ten stages of love-
sickness: (1) Love of the eyes (2) Attraction of the Manas or
mind; (3) Birth of desire; (4) Loss of sleep; (5) Loss of flesh;
(6) Indifference to objects of sense; (7) Loss of shame, (8)
Distraction of thought (9) Loss of consciousness; and (10) Death.

[FN#44] We should call this walk of "Arab ladies" a waddle: I
have never seen it in Europe except amongst the trading classes
of Trieste, who have a "wriggle" of their own.

[FN#45] In our idiom six doors.

[FN#46] They refrained from the highest enjoyment, intending to
marry.

[FN#47] Arab. "Jihád," lit. fighting against something;
Koranically, fighting against infidels non- believers in Al-lslam
(chaps. Ix. 1). But the "Mujáhidún" who wage such war are
forbidden to act aggressively (ii. 186). Here it is a war to save
a son.

[FN#48] The lady proposing extreme measures is characteristic:
Egyptians hold, and justly enough, that their women are more
amorous than men.

[FN#49] "O Camphor," an antiphrase before noticed. The vulgar
also say "Yá Taljí"=O snowy (our snowball), the polite "Ya Abú
Sumrah !" =O father of brownness.

[FN#50] i.e. which fit into sockets in the threshold and lintel
and act as hinges. These hinges have caused many disputes about
how they were fixed, for instance in caverns without moveable
lintel or threshold. But one may observe that the upper
projections are longer than the lower and that the door never
fits close above, so by lifting it up the inferior pins are taken
out of the holes. It is the oldest form and the only form known
to the Ancients. In Egyptian the hinge is called Akab=the heel,
hence the proverb Wakaf' al-báb alá 'akabin; the door standeth on
its heel; i.e. every thing in proper place.

[FN#51] Hence the addresses to the Deity: Yá Sátir and Yá Sattár-
-Thou who veilest the sins of Thy Servants! said e.g., when a
woman is falling from her donkey, etc.

[FN#52] A necessary precaution, for the headsman who would
certainly lose his own head by overhaste.

[FN#53] The passage has also been rendered, "and rejoiced him by
what he said" (Lane i, 600).

[FN#54] Arab. "Hurr"=noble, independent (opp. to 'Abd=a servile)
often used to express animæ nobilitas as         in Acts xvii.
11; where the Berœans were "more noble" than the Thessalonians.
The Princess means that the Prince would not lie with her before
marriage.

[FN#55] The Persian word is now naturalized as Anglo-Egypeian.

[FN#56] Arab. "khassat hu" = removed his testicles, gelded him.

[FN#57] Here ends the compound tale of Taj al-Muluk cum Aziz plus
Azizah, and we return to the history of King Omar's sons.

[FN#58] "Zibl" popularly pronounced Zabal, means "dung." Khan is
"Chief," as has been noticed; "Zabbál," which Torrens renders
literally "dung-drawer," is one who feeds the Hammam with bois-
de-vache, etc.

[FN#59] i.e one who fights the Jihád or "Holy War": it is
equivalent to our "good knight."

[FN#60] Arab. "Malik." Azud al Daulah, a Sultan or regent under
the Abbaside Caliph Al-Tá'i li 'llah (regn. A.H. 363-381) was the
first to take the title of "Malik." The latter in poetry is still
written Malík.

[FN#61] A townlet on the Euphrates, in the "awwal Shám," or
frontier of Syria.

[FN#62] i.e., the son would look to that.

[FN#63] A characteristic touch of Arab pathos, tender and true.

[FN#64] Arab. "Mawarid" from "ward" = resorting to pool or water-
pit (like those of "Gakdúl") for drinking, as opposed to
"Sadr"=returning after having drunk at it. Hence the "Sádir"
(part. act.) takes precedence of the "Wárid" in Al-Hariri (Ass.
of the Badawi).

[FN#65] One of the fountains of Paradise (Koran, chaps. Ixxvi.):
the word lit. means "water flowing pleasantly down the throat."
The same chapter mentions "Zanjabíl," or the Ginger-fount, which
to the Infidel mind unpleasantly suggests "ginger pop."

[FN#66] Arab. "Takhíl" = adorning with Kohl.

[FN#67] The allusions are far-fetched and obscure as in
Scandinavian poetry. Mr. Payne (ii. 314) translates "Naml" by
"net." I understand the ant (swarm) creeping up the cheeks, a
common simile for a young beard. The lovers are in the Lazá
(hell) of jealousy etc., yet feel in the Na'ím (heaven) of love
and robe in green, the hue of hope, each expecting to be the
favoured one.

[FN#68] Arab. "Ukhuwán," the classical term. There are two
chamomiles, the white (Bábúnaj) and the yellow (Kaysún), these
however are Syrian names and plants are differently called in
almost every Province of Arabia

[FN#69] In nomadic life the parting of lovers happens so
frequently that it become. a stock topic in poetry and often, as
here, the lover complains of parting when he is not parted. But
the gravamen lies in the word "Wasl" which may mean union,
meeting, reunion Or coition. As Ka'ab ibn Zuhayr began his famous
poem with "Su'ád hath departed," 900 imitators (says Al-Siyuti)
adopted the Násib or address to the beloved and Su'ad came to
signify a cruel, capricious mistress.

[FN#70] As might be expected from a nation of camel-breeders
actual cautery which can cause only counter-irritation, is a
favourite nostrum; and the Hadis or prophetic saying is "Akhir
al-dawá (or al-tibb) al-Kayy" = cautery is the end of medicine-
cure; and "Fire and sickness cannot cohabit." Most of the Badawi
bear upon their bodies grisly marks Of this heroic treatment,
whose abuse not unfrequently brings on gangrene. The Hadis
(Burckhardt, Proverbs, No. 30) also means "if nothing else avail,
take violent measures.

[FN#71] The Spaniards have the same expression: "Man is fire and
woman is tinder."

[FN#72] Arab. "Báshik" from Persian "Báshah" (accipiter Nisus) a
fierce little species of sparrow-hawk which I have described in
"Falconry in the Valley of the Indus" (p. 14, etc.).

[FN#73] Lit. "Coals (fit) for frying pan."

[FN#74] Arab. "Libdah," the sign of a pauper or religious
mendicant. He is addressed "Yá Abu libdah!" (O father of a felt
calotte!)

[FN#75] In times of mourning Moslem women do not use perfumes or
dyes, like the Henna here alluded to in the pink legs and feet of
the dove.

[FN#76] Koran, chaps. ii. 23. The idea is repeated in some forty
Koranic passages.

[FN#77] A woman's name, often occurring. The "daughters of
Sa'ada" are zebras, so called because "they resemble women in
beauty and graceful agility."

[FN#78] Arab. "Tiryák" from Gr.                   a drug against
venomous bites. It was compounded mainly of treacle, and that of
Baghdad and Irák was long held sovereign. The European
equivalent, "Venice treacle," (Theriaca Andromachi) is an
electuary containing many elements. Badawin eat for counter-
poison three heads of garlic in clarified butter for forty days.
(Pilgrimage iii 77 )

[FN#79] Could Cervantes have read this? In Algiers he might
easily have heard it recited by the tale-tellers. Kanmakan is the
typical Arab Knight, gentle and valiant as Don Quixote Sabbáh is
the Grazioso, a "Beduin" Sancho Panza. In the "Romance of Antar"
we have a similar contrast with Ocab who says: "Indeed I am no
fighter: the sword in my hand-palm chases only pelicans ;" and,
"whenever you kill a satrap, I'll plunder him."

[FN#80] i.e. The Comely, son of the Spearman, son of the Lion, or
Hero.

[FN#81] Arab. "Ushári." Old Purchas (vi., i. 9) says there are
three kinds of camels (1 ) Huguin (=Hejin) of tall stature and
able to carry 1,000 lbs. (2) Bechete (=Bukhti) the two-humped
Bactrian before mentioned and, (3) the Raguahill (Rahíl) small
dromedaries unfit for burden but able to cover a hundred miles in
a day. The "King of Timbukhtu" (not "Bukhtu's well" pop.
Timbuctoo) had camels which reach Segelmesse (Sijalmas) or Darha,
nine hundred miles in eight days at most. Lyon makes the Maherry
(also called El-Heirie=Mahri) trot nine miles an hour for a long
time. Other travellers in North Africa report the Sabayee
(Saba'i=seven days weeder) as able to get over six hundred and
thirty miles (or thirty-five caravan stages=each eighteen miles)
in five to seven days. One of the dromedaries in the "hamlah" or
caravan of Mr. Ensor (Journey through Nubia and Darfoor--a
charming book) travelled one thousand one hundred and ten miles
in twenty- seven days. He notes that his beasts were better with
water every five to seven days, but in the cold season could do
without drink for sixteen. I found in Al-Hijaz at the end of
August that the camels suffered much after ninety hours without
drink (Pilgrimage iii. 14). But these were "Júdi" fine-haired
animals as opposed to "Khawár" (the Khowás of Chesney, p. 333),
coarse-haired, heavy, slow brutes which will not stand great
heat.

[FN#82] i.e. Fortune so willed it (euphemistically).

[FN#83] The "minaret" being feminine is usually compared with a
fair young girl. The oldest minaret proper is supposed to have
been built in Damascus by the Ommiade Caliph (No. X.) Al-Walid
A.H. 86-96 (=705-715). According to Ainsworth (ii. 113) the
second was at Kuch Hisar in Chaldea.

[FN#84] None of the pure Badawi can swim for the best of reasons,
want of waters.

[FN#85] The baser sort of Badawi is never to be trusted: he is a
traitor born, and looks upon fair play as folly or cowardice.
Neither oath nor kindness can bind him: he unites the cruelty of
the cat with the wildness of the wolf. How many Englishmen have
lost their lives by not knowing these elementary truths! The race
has not changed from the days of Mandeville (A.D. 1322) whose
"Arabians, who are called Bedouins and Ascopards (?), are right
felonious and foul, and of a cursed nature." In his day they
"carried but one shield and one spear, without other arm :" now,
unhappily for travellers, they have matchlocks and most tribes
can manufacture a something called by courtesy gunpowder.

[FN#86] Thus by Arab custom they become friends.

[FN#87] Our classical term for a noble Arab horse.

[FN#88] In Arab. "Khayl" is=horse; Husan, a stallion; Hudúd, a
brood stallion; Faras, a mare (but sometimes used as a horse and
meaning "that tears over the ground"), Jiyád a steed (noble);
Kadísh, a nag (ignoble); Mohr a colt and Mohrah, a filly. There
are dozens of other names but these suffice for conversation

[FN#89] Al-Katúl, the slayer; Al-Majnún, the mad; both high
compliments in the style inverted.

[FN#90] This was a highly honourable exploit, which would bring
the doer fame as well as gain.

[FN#91] This is a true and life-like description of horse-
stealing in the Desert: Antar and Burckhardt will confirm every
word. A noble Arab stallion is supposed to fight for his rider
and to wake him at night if he see any sign of danger. The owner
generally sleeps under the belly of the beast which keeps eyes
and ears alert till dawn.

[FN#92] Arab. "Yaum al tanádi," i.e. Resurrection-day.

[FN#93] Arab. "Bilád al-Súdan"=the Land of the Blacks, negro-
land, whence the slaves came, a word now fatally familiar to
English ears. There are, however, two regions of the same name,
the Eastern upon the Upper Nile and the Western which contains
the Niger Valley, and each considers itself the Sudan. And the
reader must not confound the Berber of the Upper Nile, the
Berderino who acts servant in Lower Egypt, with the Berber of
Barbary: the former speaks an African language; the latter a
"Semitic" (Arabic) tongue.

[FN#94] "Him" for "her."

[FN#95] Arab. "Sáibah," a she-camel freed from labour under
certain conditions amongst the pagan Arabs; for which see Sale
(Prel. Disc. sect. v.).

[FN#96] Arab. "Marba'." In early spring the Badawi tribes leave
the Rasm or wintering-place (the Turco-Persian "Kishlák") in the
desert, where winter-rains supply them, and make for the Yaylák,
or summer-quarters, where they find grass and water. Thus the
great Ruwala tribe appears regularly every year on the eastern
slopes of the Anti-Libanus (Unexplored Syria, i. 117), and hence
the frequent "partings."

[FN#97] This "renowning it" and boasting of one's tribe (and
oneself) before battle is as natural as the war-cry: both are
intended to frighten the foe and have often succeeded. Every
classical reader knows that the former practice dates from the
earliest ages. It is still customary in Arabia during the furious
tribal fights, the duello on a magnificent scale which often ends
in half the combatants on either side being placed hors-de-
combat. A fair specimen of "renowning it" is Amrú's Suspended
Poem with its extravagant panegyric of the Taghlab tribe (p. 64,
"Arabian Poetry for English Readers," etc., by W. A. Clouston,
Glasgow: privately printed MDCCCLXXXI.; and transcribed from Sir
William Jones's translation).

[FN#98] The "Turk" appeared soon amongst the Abbaside Caliphs.
Mohammed was made to prophecy of them under the title Banú
Kantúrah, the latter being a slave-girl of Abraham. The Imam Al-
Shafi'i (A.H. 195=A.D. 810) is said to have foretold their rule
in Egypt where an Ottoman defended him against a donkey-boy. (For
details see Pilgrimage i. 216 ) The Caliph Al-Mu'atasim bi'llah
(A.D. 833-842) had more than 10,000 Turkish slaves and was the
first to entrust them with high office; so his Arab subjects
wrote of him:--

     A wretched Turk is thy heart's desire;
     And to them thou showest thee dam and sire.

His successor Al-Wásik (Vathek, of the terrible eyes) was the
first to appoint a Turk his Sultan or regent. After his reign
they became praetorians and led to the downfall of the Abbasides.

[FN#99] The Persian saying is "First at the feast and last at the
fray."

[FN#100] i.e. a tempter, a seducer.

[FN#101] Arab. "Wayl-ak" here probably used in the sense of
"Wayh-ak" an expression of affectionate concern.

[FN#102] Firdausi, the Homer of Persia, affects the same
magnificent exaggeration. The trampling of men and horses raises
such a dust that it takes one layer (of the seven) from earth and
adds it to the (seven of the) Heavens. The "blaze" on the
stallion's forehead (Arab. "Ghurrah") is the white gleam of the
morning.

[FN#103] A noted sign of excitement in the Arab blood horse, when
the tail looks like a panache covering the hind-quarter.

[FN#104] i.e. Prince Kanmakan.

[FN#105] The "quality of mercy" belongs to the noble Arab,
whereas the ignoble and the Bada win are rancorous and revengeful
as camels.

[FN#106] Arab. "Khanjar," the poison was let into the grooves and
hollows of the poniard.

[FN#107] The Pers. "Bang", Indian "Bhang", Maroccan "Fasúkh" and
S. African "Dakhá." (Pilgrimage i. 64.) I heard of a "Hashish-
orgie" in London which ended in half the experimentalists being
on their sofas for a week. The drug is useful for stokers, having
the curious property of making men insensible to heat. Easterns
also use it for "Imsák" prolonging coition of which I speak
presently.

[FN#108] Arab. "Hashsháshín;" whence De Sacy derived "Assassin."
A notable effect of the Hashish preparation is wildly to excite
the imagination, a kind of delirium imaginans sive phantasticum .

[FN#109] Meaning "Well done!" Mashallah (Má sháa 'llah) is an
exclamation of many uses, especially affected when praising man
or beast for fear lest flattering words induce the evil eye.

[FN#110] Arab. "Kabkáb" vulg. "Kubkáb." They are between three
and ten inches high, and those using them for the first time in
the slippery Hammam must be careful.

[FN#111] Arab. "Majlis"=sitting. The postures of coition,
ethnologically curious and interesting, are subjects so extensive
that they require a volume rather than a note. Full information
can be found in the Ananga-ranga, or Stage of the Bodiless One, a
treatise in Sanskrit verse vulgarly known as Koka Pandit from the
supposed author, a Wazir of the great Rajah Bhoj, or according to
others, of the Maharajah of Kanoj. Under the title Lizzat al-Nisá
(The Pleasures--or enjoying--of Women) it has been translated
into all the languages of the Moslem East, from Hindustani to
Arabic. It divides postures into five great divisions: (1) the
woman lying supine, of which there are eleven subdivisions; (2)
lying on her side, right or left, with three varieties; (3)
sitting, which has ten, (4) standing, with three subdivisions,
and (5) lying prone, with two. This total of twenty- nine, with
three forms of "Purusháyit," when the man lies supine (see the
Abbot in Boccaccio i. 4), becomes thirty-two, approaching the
French quarante façons. The Upavishta, majlis, or sitting
postures, when one or both "sit at squat" somewhat like birds,
appear utterly impossible to Europeans who lack the pliability of
the Eastern's limbs. Their object in congress is to avoid tension
of the muscles which would shorten the period of enjoyment. In
the text the woman lies supine and the man sits at squat between
her legs: it is a favourite from Marocco to China. A literal
translation of the Ananga range appeared in 1873 under the name
of Káma-Shástra; or the Hindoo Art of Love (Ars Amoris Indica);
but of this only six copies were printed. It was re-issued
(printed but not published) in 1885. The curious in such matters
will consult the Index Librorum Prohibitorum (London, privately
printed, 1879) by Pisanus Fraxi (H. S. Ashbee).

[FN#112] i.e. Le Roi Crotte.

[FN#113] This seems to be a punning allusion to Baghdad, which in
Persian would mean the Garden (bágh) of Justice (dád). See
"Biographical Notices of Persian Poets" by Sir Gore Ouseley,
London, Oriental Translation Fund, 1846

[FN#114] The Kardoukhoi (Carduchi) of Xenophon; also called
(Strabo xv.) "Kárdakís, from a Persian word signifying
manliness," which would be "Kardak"=a doer (of derring do). They
also named the Montes Gordæi the original Ararat of Xisisthrus-
Noah's Ark. The Kurds are of Persian race, speaking an old and
barbarous Iranian tongue and often of the Shi'ah sect. They are
born bandits, highwaymen, cattle-lifters; yet they have spread
extensively over Syria and Egypt and have produced some glorious
men, witness Sultan Saláh al-Din (Saladin) the Great. They claim
affinity with the English in the East, because both races always
inhabit the highest grounds they can find.

[FN#115] These irregular bands who belong to no tribe are the
most dangerous bandits in Arabia, especially upon the northern
frontier. Burckhardt, who suffered from them, gives a long
account of their treachery and utter absence of that Arab
"pundonor" which is supposed to characterise Arab thieves.

[FN#116] An euphemistic form to avoid mentioning the incestuous
marriage.

[FN#117] The Arab form of our "Kinchin lay."

[FN#118] These are the signs of a Shaykh's tent.

[FN#119] These questions, indiscreet in Europe, are the rule
throughout Arabia, as they were in the United States of the last
generation.

[FN#120] Arab. "Khizáb" a paste of quicklime and lamp-black
kneaded with linseed oil which turns the Henna to a dark olive.
It is hideously ugly to unaccustomed eyes and held to be
remarkably beautiful in Egypt.

[FN#121] i.e. the God of the Empyrean.

[FN#122] A blow worthy of the Sa'alabah tribe to which he
belonged.

[FN#123] i.e. "benefits"; also the name of Mohammed's Mu'ezzin,
or crier to prayer, who is buried outside the Jábiah gate of
Damascus. Hence amongst Moslems, Abyssinians were preferred as
mosque-criers in the early ages of Al-Islam. Egypt chose blind
men because they were abundant and cheap; moreover they cannot
take note of what is doing on the adjoining roof terraces where
women and children love to pass the cool hours that begin and end
the day. Stories are told of men who counterfeited blindness for
years in order to keep the employment. In Moslem cities the
stranger required to be careful how he appeared at a window or on
the gallery of a minaret: the people hate to be overlooked and
the whizzing of a bullet was the warning to be off. (Pilgrimage
iii. 185.)

[FN#124] His instinct probably told him that this opponent was a
low fellow but such insults are common when "renowning it."

[FN#125] Arab. "Dare' " or "Dira'," a habergeon, a coat of ring-
mail, sometimes worn in pairs. During the wretched "Sudan"
campaigns much naïve astonishment was expressed by the English
Press to hear of warriors armed cap-à-pie in this armour like
medieval knights. They did not know that every great tribe has
preserved, possibly from Crusading times, a number of hauberks,
even to hundreds. I have heard of only one English traveller who
had a mail jacket made by Wilkinson of Pall Mall, imitating in
this point Napoleon III. And (according to the Banker-poet,
Rogers) the Duke of Wellington. That of Napoleon is said to have
been made of platinum-wire, the work of a Pole who received his
money and an order to quit Paris. The late Sir Robert Clifton
(they say) tried its value with a Colt after placing it upon one
of his coat-models or mannequins. It is easy to make these
hauberks arrow-proof or sword-proof, even bullet-proof if Arab
gunpowder be used: but against a modern rifle-cone they are worse
than worthless as the fragments would be carried into the wound.
The British serjeant was right in saying that he would prefer to
enter battle in his shirt: and he might even doff that to
advantage and return to the primitive custom of man--gymnomachy.

[FN#126] Arab. "Jamal" (by Badawin pronounced "Gamal" like the
Hebrew) is the generic term for "Camel" through the Gr.        :
"Ibl" is also the camel-species but not so commonly used. "Hajín"
is the dromedary (in Egypt, "Dalúl" in Arabia), not the one-
humped camel of the zoologist (C. dromedarius) as opposed to the
two-humped (C. Bactrianus), but a running i.e. a riding camel.
The feminine is Nákah for like mules females are preferred.
"Bakr" (masc.) and "Bakrah" (fem.) are camel-colts. There are
hosts of special names besides those which are general. Mr.
Censor is singular when he states (p.40) "the male (of the camel)
is much the safer animal to choose ;" and the custom of t e
universal Ease disproves his assertion. Mr. McCoan ("Egypt as it
is") tells his readers that the Egyptian camel has two humps, in
fact, he describes the camel as it is not.

[FN#127] So, in the Romance of Dalhamah (Zát al-Himmah, the
heroine the hero Al-Gundubah ("one locust-man") smites off the
head of his mother's servile murderer and cries, I have taken my
blood-revenge upon this traitor slave'" (Lane, M. E. chaps. xx
iii.)

[FN#128] This gathering all the persons upon the stage before the
curtain drops is highly artistic and improbable.

[FN#129] He ought to have said his dawn prayers.

[FN#130] Here begins what I hold to be the oldest subject matter
in The Nights, the apologues or fables proper; but I reserve
further remarks for the Terminal Essay. Lane has most
objectionably thrown this and sundry of the following stories
into a note (vol. ii., pp. 53-69).

[FN#131] In beast stories generally when man appears he shows to
disadvantage.

[FN#132] Shakespeare's "stone bow" not Lane's "cross-bow" (ii.
53).

[FN#133] The goad still used by the rascally Egyptian donkey-boy
is a sharp nail at the end of a stick; and claims the special
attention of societies for the protection of animals.

[FN#134] "The most ungrateful of all voices surely is the voice
of asses" (Koran xxxi. 18); and hence the "braying of hell"
(Koran Ixvii.7). The vulgar still believe that the donkey brays
when seeing the Devil. "The last animal which entered the Ark
with Noah was the Ass to whose tail Iblis was clinging. At the
threshold the ass seemed troubled and could enter no further when
Noah said to him:--"Fie upon thee! come in." But as the ass was
still troubled and did not advance Noah cried:--"Come in, though
the Devil be with thee!", so the ass entered and with him Iblis.
Thereupon Noah asked:--"O enemy of Allah who brought thee into
the Ark ?", and Iblis answered:--"Thou art the man, for thou
saidest to the ass, ‘come in though the Devil be with thee!"
(Kitáb al-Unwán fi Makáid al-Niswán quoted by Lane ii. 54).

[FN#135] Arab. "Rihl," a wooden saddle stuffed with straw and
matting. In Europe the ass might complain that his latter end is
the sausage. In England they say no man sees a dead donkey: I
have seen dozens and, unfortunately, my own.

[FN#136] The English reader will not forget Sterne's old mare.
Even Al-Hariri, the prince of Arab rhetoricians, does not distain
to use "pepedit," the effect being put for the cause--terror. But
Mr. Preston (p. 285) and polite men translate by "fled in haste"
the Arabic farted for fear."

[FN#137] This is one of the lucky signs and adds to the value of
the beast. There are some fifty of these marks, some of them
(like a spiral of hair in the breast which denotes that the rider
is a cuckold) so ill-omened that the animal can be bought for
almost nothing. Of course great attention is paid to colours, the
best being the dark rich bay ("red" of Arabs) with black points,
or the flea-bitten grey (termed Azrak=blue or Akhzar=green) which
whitens with age. The worst are dun, cream coloured, piebald and
black, which last are very rare. Yet according to the Mishkát al-
Masábih (Lane 2, 54) Mohammed said, ‘The best horses are black
(dark brown?) with white blazes (Arab. "Ghurrah") and upper lips;
next, black with blaze and three white legs (bad, because white-
hoofs are brittle):next, bay with white blaze and white fore and
hind legs." He also said, "Prosperity is with sorrel horses;" and
praised a sorrel with white forehead and legs; but he dispraised
the "Shikál," which has white stockings (Arab. "Muhajjil") on
alternate hoofs (e.g. right hind and left fore). The curious
reader will consult Lady Anne Blunt's "Bedouin Tribes of the
Euphrates, with some Account of the Arabs and their Horses"
(1879); but he must remember that it treats of the frontier
tribes. The late Major Upton also left a book "Gleanings from the
Desert of Arabia" (1881); but it is a marvellous production
deriving e.g. Khayl (a horse generically) from Kohl or antimony
(p. 275). What the Editor was dreaming of I cannot imagine. I
have given some details concerning the Arab horse especially in
Al-Yaman, among the Zú Mohammed, the Zú Husayn and the Banu Yam
in Pilgrimage iii. 270. As late as Marco Polo's day they supplied
the Indian market via Aden; but the "Eye o Al-Yaman" has totally
lost the habit of exporting horses.

[FN#138] The shovel-iron which is the only form of spur.

[FN#139] Used for the dromedary: the baggage-camel is haltered.

[FN#140] Arab. "Harwalah," the pas gymnastique affected when
circumambulating the Ka'abah (Pilgrimage iii. 208).

[FN#141] "This night" would be our "last night": the Arabs, I
repeat, say "night and day," not "day and night."

[FN#142] The vulgar belief is that man's fate is written upon his
skull, the sutures being the writing.

[FN#143] Koran ii. 191.

[FN#144] Arab. "Tasbíh"=saying, "Subhán' Allah." It also means a
rosary (Egypt. Sebhah for Subhah) a string of 99 beads divided by
a longer item into sets of three and much fingered by the would-
appear pious. The professional devotee carries a string of wooden
balls the size of pigeons' eggs.

[FN#145] The pigeon is usually made to say, ' "Wahhidú Rabba-kumu
''llazi khalaka-kum, yaghfiru lakum zamba-kum" = "Unify (Assert
the Unity of) your Lord who created you; so shall He forgive your
sin!" As might be expected this "language" is differently
interpreted. Pigeon-superstitions are found in all religions and
I have noted (Pilgrimage iii, 218) how the Hindu deity of
Destruction- reproduction, the third Person of their Triad, Shiva
and his Spouse (or active Energy), are supposed to have dwelt at
Meccah under the titles of Kapoteshwara (Pigeon-god) and
Kapoteshí (Pigeon-goddess).

[FN#146] I have seen this absolute horror of women amongst the
Monks of the Coptic Convents.

[FN#147] After the Day of Doom, when men's actions are
registered, that of mutual retaliation will follow and all
creatures (brutes included) will take vengeance on one another.

[FN#148] The Comrades of the Cave, famous in the Middle Ages of
Christianity (Gibbon chaps. xxxiii.), is an article of faith with
Moslems, being part subject of chapter xviii., the Koranic Surah
termed the Cave. These Rip Van Winkle-tales begin with Endymion
so famous amongst the Classics and Epimenides of Crete who slept
fifty-seven years; and they extend to modern days as La Belle au
Bois dormant. The Seven Sleepers are as many youths of Ephesus
(six royal councillors and a shepherd, whose names are given on
the authority of Ali); and, accompanied by their dog, they fled
the persecutions of Dakianús (the Emperor Decius) to a cave near
Tarsús in Natolia where they slept for centuries. The Caliph
Mu'awiyah when passing the cave sent into it some explorers who
were all killed by a burning wind. The number of the sleepers
remains uncertain, according to the Koran (ibid. v. 21) three,
five or seven and their sleep lasted either three hundred or
three hundred and nine years. The dog (ibid. v. 17) slept at the
cave-entrance with paws outstretched and, according to the
general, was called "Katmir" or "Kitmir;" but Al-Rakím (v. 8) is
also applied to it by some. Others hold this to be the name of
the valley or mountain and others of a stone or leaden tablet on
which their names were engraved by their countrymen who built a
chapel on the spot (v. 20). Others again make the Men of Al-Rakím
distinct from the Cave-men, and believe (with Bayzáwi) that they
were three youths who were shut up in a grotto by a rock-slip.
Each prayed for help through the merits of some good deed: when
the first had adjured Allah the mountain cracked till light
appeared; at the second petition it split so that they saw one
another and after the third it opened. However that may be,
Kitmir is one of the seven favoured animals: the others being the
Hudhud (hoopoe) of Solomon (Koran xxii. 20); the she-camel of
Sálih (chaps. Ixxxvii.); the cow of Moses which named the Second
Surah; the fish of Jonah; the serpent of Eve, and the peacock of
Paradise. For Koranic revelations of the Cave see the late Thomas
Chenery (p. 414 The Assemblies of Al-Hariri: Williams and
Norgate, 1870) who borrows from the historian Tabari.

[FN#149] These lines have occurred in Night cxlvi.: I quote Mr.
Payne by way of variety.

[FN#150] The wolf (truly enough to nature) is the wicked man
without redeeming traits; the fox of Arab folk-lore is the
cunning man who can do good on occasion. Here the latter is
called "Sa'alab" which may, I have noted, mean the jackal; but
further on "Father of a Fortlet" refers especially to the fox.
Herodotus refers to the gregarious Canis Aureus when he describes
Egyptian wolves as being "not much bigger than foxes" (ii. 67).
Canon Rawlinson, in his unhappy version, does not perceive that
the Halicarnassian means the jackal and blunders about the hyena.

[FN#151] The older "Leila" or "Leyla": it is a common name and is
here applied to woman in general. The root is evidently
"layl"=nox, with, probably, the idea, "She walks in beauty like
the night."

[FN#152] Arab. Abu 'l-Hosayn; his hole being his fort (Unexplored
Syria, ii. 18).

[FN#153] A Koranic phrase often occurring.

[FN#154] Koran v. 35.

[FN#155] Arab. "Bází," Pers. "Báz" (here Richardson is wrong
s.v.); a term to a certain extent generic, but specially used for
the noble Peregrine (F. Peregrinator) whose tiercel is the Sháhín
(or "Royal Bird"). It is sometimes applied to the goshawk (Astur
palumbarius) whose proper title, however, is Shah-báz
(King-hawk). The Peregrine extends from the Himalayas to Cape
Comorin and the best come from the colder parts: in Iceland I
found that the splendid white bird was sometimes trapped for
sending to India. In Egypt "Bazi" is applied to the kite or
buzzard and "Hidyah" (a kite) to the falcon (Burckhardt's Prov.
159, 581 and 602). Burckhardt translates "Hidáyah," the Egyptian
corruption, by "an ash-grey falcon of the smaller species common
throughout Egypt and Syria."

[FN#156] Arab. "Hijl," the bird is not much prized in India
because it feeds on the roads. For the Shinnár (caccabis) or
magnificent partridge of Midian as large as a pheasant, see
"Midian Revisted" ii. 18.

[FN#157] Arab. "Súf;" hence "Súfi,"=(etymologically) one who
wears woollen garments, a devotee, a Santon; from      =wise;
from      =pure, or from Safá=he was pure. This is not the place
to enter upon such a subject as "Tasawwuf," or Sufyism; that
singular reaction from arid Moslem realism and materialism, that
immense development of gnostic and Neo-platonic transcendentalism
which is found only germinating in the Jewish and Christian
creeds. The poetry of Omar-i-Khayyám, now familiar to English
readers, is a fair specimen; and the student will consult the
last chapter of the Dabistan "On the religion of the Sufiahs."
The first Moslem Sufi was Abu Háshim of Kufah, ob. A. H. 150=767,
and the first Convent of Sufis called "Takiyah" (Pilgrimage i.
124) was founded in Egypt by Saladin the Great.

[FN#158] i.e. when she encamps with a favourite for the night.

[FN#159] The Persian proverb is "Marg-i-amboh jashni
dáred"--death in a crowd is as good as a feast.

[FN#160] Arab. "Kanát", the subterranean water-course called in
Persia "Kyáriz." Lane (ii. 66) translates it "brandish around the
spear (Kanát is also a cane-lance) of artifice," thus making rank
nonsense of the line. Al-Hariri uses the term in the Ass. of the
Banu Haram where "Kanát" may be a pipe or bamboo laid
underground.

[FN#161] From Al-Tughrái, the author of the Lámiyat al-Ajam, the
"Lay of the Outlander;" a Kasidah (Ode) rhyming in Lám (the
letter "l" being the ráwi or binder). The student will find a new
translation of it by Mr. J. W. Redhouse and Dr. Carlyle's old
version (No. liii.) in Mr. Clouston's "Arabian Poetry." Muyid
al-Din al-Hasan Abu Ismail nat. Ispahan ob. Baghdad A.H. 182)
derived his surname from the Tughrá, cypher or flourish (over the
"Bismillah" in royal and official papers) containing the name of
the prince. There is an older "Lamiyat al-Arab" a pre-Islamitic
L-poem by the "brigand-poet" Shanfara, of whom Mr. W. G. Palgrave
has given a most appreciative account in his "Essays on Eastern
Questions," noting the indomitable self-reliance and the absolute
individualism of a mind defying its age and all around it.
Al-Hariri quotes from both.

[FN#162] The words of the unfortunate Azízah, vol. ii., p. 323.

[FN#163] Arab. "Háwí"=a juggler who plays tricks with snakes: he
is mostly a Gypsy. The "recompense" the man expects is the golden
treasure which the ensorcelled snake is supposed to guard. This
idea is as old as the Dragon in the Garden of the Hesperides--and
older.

[FN#164] The "Father of going out (to prey) by morning"; for dawn
is called Zanab Sirhán the Persian Dum-i-gurg=wolf's tail, i.e.
the first brush of light; the Zodiacal Light shown in morning.
Sirhán is a nickname of the wolf--Gaunt Grim or Gaffer Grim, the
German Isengrin or Eisengrinus (icy grim or iron grim) whose wife
is Hersent, as Richent or Hermeline is Mrs. Fox. In French we
have lopez, luppe, leu, e.g.

     Venant à la queue, leu, leu,

i.e. going in Indian file. Hence the names D'Urfé and Saint-Loup.
In Scandinavian, the elder sister of German, Ulf and in German
(where the Jews were forced to adopt the name) Wolff whence
"Guelph." He is also known to the Arabs as the "sire of a
she-lamb," the figure metonymy called "Kunyat bi 'l-Zidd" (lucus
a non lucendo), a patronymic or by-name given for opposition and
another specimen of "inverted speech."

[FN#165] Arab. "Bint' Arús" = daughter of the bridegroom, the
Hindustani Mungus (vulg. Mongoose); a well-known weasel-like
rodent often kept tame in the house to clear it of vermin. It is
supposed to know an antidote against snake-poison, as the weasel
eats rue before battle (Pliny x. 84; xx. 13). In Modern Egypt
this viverra is called "Kitt (or Katt) Far'aun" = Pharaoh's cat:
so the Percnopter becomes Pharaoh's hen and the unfortunate (?)
King has named a host of things, alive and dead. It was
worshipped and mummified in parts of Ancient Egypt e.g.
Heracleopolis, on account of its antipathy to serpents and
because it was supposed to destroy the crocodile, a feat with
Ælian and others have overloaded with fable. It has also a
distinct antipathy to cats. The ichneumon as a pet becomes too
tame and will not leave its master: when enraged it emits an
offensive stench. I brought home for the Zoological Gardens a
Central African specimen prettily barred. Burckhardt (Prov. 455)
quotes a line:--

   Rakas' Ibn Irsin wa zamzama ‘l-Nimsu,
   (Danceth Ibn Irs whileas Nims doth sing)

and explains Nims by ichneumon and Ibn Irs as a "species of small
weasel or ferret, very common in Egypt: it comes into the house,
feeds upon meat, is of gentle disposition although not
domesticated and full of gambols and frolic."

[FN#166] Arab. "Sinnaur" (also meaning a prince). The common name
is Kitt which is pronounced Katt or Gatt; and which Ibn Dorayd
pronounces a foreign word (Syriac?). Hence, despite Freitag,
Catus (which Isidore derives from catare, to look for) = gatto,
chat, cat, an animal unknown to the Classics of Europe who used
the mustela or putorius vulgaris and different species of
viverræ. The Egyptians, who kept the cat to destroy vermin,
especially snakes, called it Mau, Mai, Miao (onomatopoetic): this
descendent of the Felis maniculata originated in Nubia; and we
know from the mummy pits and Herodotus that it was the same
species as ours. The first portraits of the cat are on the
monuments of "Beni Hasan," B.C. 2500. I have ventured to derive
the familiar "Puss" from the Arab. "Biss (fem. :Bissah"), which
is a congener of Pasht (Diana), the cat-faced goddess of Bubastis
(Pi-Pasht), now Zagázig. Lastly, "tabby (brindled)-cat" is
derived from the Attábi (Prince Attab's) quarter at Baghdad where
watered silks were made. It is usually attributed to the Tibbie,
Tibalt, Tybalt, Thibert or Tybert (who is also executioner),
various forms of Theobald in the old Beast Epic; as opposed to
Gilbert the gib-cat, either a tom-cat or a gibbed (castrated)
cat.

[FN#167] Arab. "Ikhwán al-Safá," a popular term for virtuous
friends who perfectly love each other in all purity: it has also
a mystic meaning. Some translate it "Brethren of Sincerity," and
hold this brotherhood to be Moslem Freemasons, a mere fancy (see
the Mesnevi of Mr. Redhouse, Trubner 1881). There is a well-known
Hindustani book of this name printed by Prof. Forbes in Persian
character and translated by Platts and Eastwick.

[FN#168] Among Eastern men there are especial forms for "making
brotherhood." The "Munhbolá-bhái" (mouth-named brother) of India
is well-known. The intense "associativeness" of these races
renders isolation terrible to them, and being defenceless in a
wild state of society has special horrors. Hence the origin of
Caste for which see Pilgrimage (i. 52). Moslems, however, cannot
practise the African rite of drinking a few drops of each other's
blood. This, by the by, was also affected in Europe, as we see in
the Gesta Romanoru, Tale lxvii., of the wise and foolish knights
who "drew blood (to drink) from the right arm."

[FN#169] The F. Sacer in India is called "Laghar" and tiercel
"Jaghar." Mr. T.E. Jordan (catalogue of Indian Birds, 1839) says
it is rare; but I found it the contrary. According to Mr. R.
Thompson it is flown at kites and antelope: in Sind it is used
upon night-heron (nyctardea nycticorax), floriken or Hobara (Otis
aurita), quail, partridge, curlew and sometimes hare: it gives
excellent sport with crows but requires to be defended. Indian
sportsmen, like ourselves, divide hawks into two orders: the
"Siyáh-chasm," or black-eyed birds, long-winged and noble; the
"Gulábi-chasm" or yellow-eyed (like the goshawk) round-winged and
ignoble.

[FN#170] i.e. put themselves at thy mercy.

[FN#171] I have remarked (Pilgrimage iii.307) that all the
popular ape-names in Arabic and Persian, Sa'adán, Maymún, Shádi,
etc., express propitiousness--probably euphemistically applied to
our "poor relation."

[FN#172] The serpent does not "sting" nor does it "bite;" it
strikes with the poison-teeth like a downward stab with a dagger.
These fangs are always drawn by the jugglers but they grow again
and thus many lives are lost. The popular way of extracting the
crochets is to grasp the snake firmly behind the neck with one
hand and with the other to tantalise it by offering and
withdrawing a red rag. At last the animal is allowed to strike it
and a sharp jerk tears out both eye-teeth as rustics used to do
by slamming a door. The head is then held downwards and the venom
drains from its bag in the shape of a few drops of slightly
yellowish fluid which, as conjurers know, may be drunk without
danger. The patient looks faint and dazed, but recovers after a
few hours and feels as if nothing had happened. In India I took
lessons from a snake-charmer but soon gave up the practice as too
dangerous.

[FN#173] Arab. "Akh al-Jahálah" = brother of ignorance, an
Ignorantin; one "really and truly" ignorant; which is the value
of "Ahk" in such phrases as a "brother of poverty," or, "of
purity."

[FN#174] Lane (ii. 1) writes "Abu-l-Hasan;" Payne (iii. 49)
"Aboulhusn" which would mean "Father of Beauty (Husn)" and is not
a Moslem name. Hasan (beautiful) and its dimin. Husayn, names now
so common, were (it is said), unknown to the Arabs, although
Hassán was that of a Tobba King, before the days of Mohammed who
so called his two only grandsons. In Anglo-India they have become
"Hobson and Jobson." The Bresl. Edit. (ii. 305) entitles this
story "Tale of Abu 'l Hasan the Attár (druggist and perfumer)
with Ali ibn Bakkár and what befel them with the handmaid
(=járiyah) Shams al-Nahár."

[FN#175] i.e. a descendant, not a Prince.

[FN#176] The Arab shop is a kind of hole in the wall and buyers
sit upon its outer edge (Pilgrimage i. 99).

[FN#177] By a similar image the chamæleon is called Abú
Kurrat=Father of coolness; because it is said to have the
"coldest" eye of all animals and insensible to heat and light,
since it always looks at the sun.

[FN#178] This dividing the hemistich words is characteristic of
certain tales; so I have retained it although inevitably
suggesting:--

   I left Matilda at the U-
   niversity of Gottingen.

[FN#179] These naïve offers in Eastern tales mostly come from the
true seducer--Eve. Europe and England especially, still talks
endless absurdity upon the subject. A man of the world may
"seduce" an utterly innocent (which means an ignorant) girl. But
to "seduce" a married woman! What a farce!

[FN#180] Masculine again for feminine: the lines are as full of
word-plays, vulgarly called puns, as Sanskrit verses.

[FN#181] The Eastern heroine always has a good appetite and eats
well. The sensible Oriental would infinitely despise that
maladive Parisienne in whom our neighbours delight, and whom I
long to send to the Hospital.

[FN#182] i.e. her rivals have discovered the secret of her heart.

[FN#183] i.e. blood as red as wine.

[FN#184] The wine-cup (sun-like) shines in thy hand; thy teeth
are bright as the Pleiads and thy face rises like a moon from the
darkness of thy dress-collar.

[FN#185] The masculine of Marjánah (Morgiana) "the she
coral-branch ;" and like this a name generally given to negroes.
We have seen white applied to a blackamoor by way of metonomy and
red is also connected with black skins by way of fun. A Persian
verse says :

   "If a black wear red, e'en an ass would grin."

[FN#186] Suggesting that she had been sleeping.

[FN#187] Arab. "Raushan," a window projecting and latticed: the
word is orig. Persian: so Raushaná (splendour)=Roxana. It appears
to me that this beautiful name gains beauty by being understood.

[FN#188] The word means any servant, but here becomes a proper
name. "Wasífah" usually= a concubine.

[FN#189] i.e. eagerness, desire, love-longing.

[FN#190] Arab. "Rind," which may mean willow (oriental), bay or
aloes wood: Al-Asma'i denies that it ever signifies myrtle.

[FN#191] These lines occur in Night cxiv.: by way of variety I
give (with permission) Mr. Payne's version (iii. 59).

[FN#192] Referring to the proverb "Al-Khauf maksúm"=fear
(cowardice) is equally apportioned: i.e. If I fear you, you fear
me.

[FN#193] The fingers of the right hand are struck upon the palm
of the left.

[FN#194] There are intricate rules for "joining" the prayers; but
this is hardly the place for a subject discussed in all religious
treatises. (Pilgrimage iii. 239.)

[FN#195] The hands being stained with Henna and perhaps indigo in
stripes are like the ring rows of chain armour. See Lane's
illustration (Mod. Egypt, chaps. i.).

[FN#196] She made rose-water of her cheeks for my drink and she
bit with teeth like grains of hail those lips like the
lotus-fruit, or jujube: Arab. "Unnab" or "Nabk," the plum of the
Sidr or Zizyphus lotus.

[FN#197] Meaning to let Patience run away like an untethered
camel.

[FN#198] i.e. her fair face shining through the black hair.
"Camphor" is a favourite with Arab poets: the Persians hate it
because connected in their minds with death; being used for
purifying the corpse. We read in Burckhardt (Prov. 464) "Singing
without siller is like a corpse without Hanút"--this being a
mixture of camphor and rose-water sprinkled over the face of the
dead before shrouded. Similarly Persians avoid speaking of
coffee, because they drink it at funerals and use tea at other
times.

[FN#199] i.e. she is angry and bites her carnelion lips with
pearly teeth.

[FN#200] Arab. "Wa ba'ad;" the formula which follows
"Bismillah"--In the name of Allah. The French translate it or
sus, etc. I have noticed the legend about its having been first
used by the eloquent Koss, Bishop of Najran.

[FN#201] i.e. Her mind is so troubled she cannot answer for what
she writes.

[FN#202] The Bul. Edit. (i. 329) and the Mac. Edit. (i. 780) give
to Shams al-Nahar the greater part of Ali's answer, as is shown
by the Calc. Edit. (230 et seq.) and the Bresl. Edit. (ii. 366 et
seq.) Lane mentions this (ii. 74) but in his usual perfunctory
way gives no paginal references to the Calc. or Bresl.; so that
those who would verify the text may have the displeasure of
hunting for it.

[FN#203] Arab. "Bi'smi 'lláhi' r-Rahmáni'r-Rahím." This
auspicatory formula was borrowed by Al-Islam not from the Jews
but from the Guebre "Ba nám-i-Yezdán bakhsháishgar-i-dádár!" (in
the name of Yezdan-God--All-generous, All-just!). The Jews have,
"In the name of the Great God;" and the Christians, "In the name
of the Father, etc." The so-called Sir John Mandeville begins his
book, In the name of God, Glorious and Almighty. The sentence
forms the first of the Koran and heads every chapter except only
the ninth, an exception for which recondite reasons are adduced.
Hence even in the present day it begins all books, letters and
writings in general; and it would be a sign of Infidelity (i.e.
non-Islamism) to omit it. The difference between "Rahmán" and
"Rahím" is that the former represents an accidental
(compassionating), the latter a constant quality (compassionate).
Sale therefore renders it very imperfectly by "In the name of the
most merciful God;" the Latinists better, "In nomine Dei
misericordis, clementissimi" (Gottwaldt in Hamza Ispahanensis);
Mr. Badger much better, "In the name of God, the Pitiful, the
Compassionate"--whose only fault is not preserving the assonance:
and Maracci best, "In nomine Dei miseratoris misericordis."

[FN#204] Arab. Majnún (i.e. one possessed by a Jinni) the
well-known model lover of Layla, a fictitious personage for whom
see D'Herbelot (s. v. Megnoun). She was celebrated by Abu
Mohammed Nizam al-Din of Ganjah (ob. A.H. 597=1200) pop. known as
Nizámi, the caustic and austere poet who wrote:--

   The weals of this world are the ass's meed!
   Would Nizami were of the ass's breed.

The series in the East begins chronologically with Yúsuf and
Zulaykhá (Potiphar's wife) sung by Jámi (nat. A.H. 817=1414); the
next in date is Khusraw and Shirin (also by Nizami); Farhad and
Shirin; and Layla and Majnun (the Night-black maid and the
Maniac-man) are the last. We are obliged to compare the lovers
with "Romeo and Juliet," having no corresponding instances in
modern days: the classics of Europe supply a host as Hero and
Leander, Theagenes and Charicleia, etc. etc.

[FN#205] The jeweller of Eastern tales from Marocco to Calcutta,
is almost invariably a rascal: here we have an exception.

[FN#206] This must not be understood of sealing-wax, which,
however, is of ancient date. The Egyptians (Herod. ii. 38) used
"sealing earth" (            ) probably clay, impressed with a
signet (         ); the Greeks mud-clay (     ); and the Romans
first cretula and then wax (Beckmann). Mediæval Europe had
bees-wax tempered with Venice turpentine and coloured with
cinnabar or similar material. The modern sealing-wax, whose
distinctive is shell-lac, was brought by the Dutch from India to
Europe; and the earliest seals date from about A.D. 1560. They
called it Ziegel-lak, whence the German Siegel-lack, the French
preferring cire-à-cacheter, as distinguished from cire-à-sceller,
the softer material. The use of sealing-wax in India dates from
old times and the material, though coarse and unsightly, is still
preferred by Anglo-Indians because it resists heat whereas the
best English softens like pitch.

[FN#207] Evidently referring to the runaway Abu al-Hasan, not to
the she-Mercury.

[FN#208] An unmarried man is not allowed to live in a respectable
quarter of a Moslem city unless he takes such precaution. Lane
(Mod. Egypt. passim) has much to say on this point; and my
excellent friend the late Professor Spitta at Cairo found the
native prejudice very troublesome.

[FN#209] Arab. "Yá fulán"=O certain person (fulano in Span. and
Port.) a somewhat contemptuous address.

[FN#210] Mr. Payne remarks, "These verses apparently relate to
Aboulhusn, but it is possible that they may be meant to refer to
Shemsennehar." (iii. 80.)

[FN#211] Arab. and Pers "Bulúr" (vulg. billaur) retaining the
venerable tradition of the Belus- river. In Al-Hariri (Ass. of
Halwán) it means crystal and there is no need of proposing to
translate it by onyx or to identify it with the Greek         ,
the beryl.

[FN#212] The door is usually shut with a wooden bolt.

[FN#213] Arab. "Ritánah," from "Ratan," speaking any tongue not
Arabic, the allusion being to foreign mercenaries, probably
Turks. In later days Turkish was called Muwalla', a pied horse,
from its mixture of languages.

[FN#214] This is the rule; to guard against the guet-apens.

[FN#215] Arab. "Wálidati," used when speaking to one not of the
family in lieu of the familiar "Ummi"=my mother. So the father is
Wálid=the begetter.

[FN#216] This is one of the many euphemistic formulæ for such
occasions: they usually begin "May thy head live." etc.

[FN#217] Arab. "Kánún," an instrument not unlike the Austrian
zither; it is illustrated in Lane (ii. 77).

[FN#218] This is often done, the merit of the act being
transferred to the soul of the deceased.

[FN#219] The two amourists were martyrs; and their amours, which
appear exaggerated to the Western mind, have many parallels in
the East. The story is a hopeless affair of love; with only one
moral (if any be wanted) viz., there may be too much of a good
thing. It is given very concisely in the Bul. Edit. vol. i.; and
more fully in the Mac. Edit. aided in places by the Bresl. (ii.
320) and the Calc. (ii. 230).
##
[FN#220] Lane is in error (vol. ii. 78) when he corrects this to
"Sháh Zemán"; the name is fanciful and intended to be old
Persian, on the "weight" of Kahramán. The Bul. Edit. has by
misprint "Shahramán."

[FN#221] The "topothesia" is worthy of Shakespeare's day.
"Khálidán" is evidently a corruption of "Khálidatáni" (for
Khálidát), the Eternal, as Ibn Wardi calls the Fortunate Islands,
or Canaries, which owe both their modern names to the classics of
Europe. Their present history dates from A.D. 1385, unless we
accept the Dieppe-Rouen legend of Labat which would place the
discovery in A.D. 1326. I for one thoroughly believe in the
priority on the West African Coast, of the gallant descendants of
the Northmen.

[FN#222] Four wives are allowed by Moslem law and for this
reason. If you marry one wife she holds herself your equal,
answers you and "gives herself airs"; two are always quarrelling
and making a hell of the house; three are "no company" and two of
them always combine against the nicest to make her hours bitter.
Four are company, they can quarrel and "make it up" amongst
themselves, and the husband enjoys comparative peace. But the
Moslem is bound by his law to deal equally with the four, each
must have her dresses her establishment and her night, like her
sister wives. The number is taken from the Jews (Arbah Turim Ev.
Hazaer, i.) "the wise men have given good advice that a man
should not marry more than four wives." Europeans, knowing that
Moslem women are cloistered and appear veiled in public, begin
with believing them to be mere articles of luxury, and only after
long residence they find out that nowhere has the sex so much
real liberty and power as in the Moslem East. They can possess
property and will it away without the husband's leave: they can
absent themselves from the house for a month without his having a
right to complain; and they assist in all his counsels for the
best of reasons: a man can rely only on his wives and children,
being surrounded by rivals who hope to rise by his ruin. As
regards political matters the Circassian women of Constantinople
really rule the Sultanate and there soignez la femme! is the
first lesson of getting on in the official world.

[FN#223] This two-bow prayer is common on the bride-night; and at
all times when issue is desired.

[FN#224] The older Camaralzaman="Moon of the age." Kamar is the
moon between her third and twenty-sixth day: Hilál during the
rest of the month: Badr (plur. Budúr whence the name of the
Princess) is the full moon.

[FN#225] Arab "Ra'áyá" plur. of 'Ra'íyat" our Anglo-Indian Ryot,
lit. a liege, a subject; secondarily a peasant, a Fellah.

[FN#226] Another audacious parody of the Moslem "testification"
to the one God, and to Mohammed the Apostle.

[FN#227] Showing how long ago forts were armed with metal plates
which we have applied to war-ships only of late years.

[FN#228] The comparison is abominably true--in the East.

[FN#229] Two fallen angels who taught men the art of magic. They
are mentioned in the Koran (chaps. ii.), and the commentators
have extensively embroidered the simple text. Popularly they are
supposed to be hanging by their feet in a well in the territory
of Babel, hence the frequent allusions to "Babylonian sorcery" in
Moslem writings; and those who would study the black art at
head-quarters are supposed to go there. They are counterparts of
the Egyptian Jamnes and Mambres, the Jannes and Jambres of St.
Paul (2 Tim. iii. 8).

[FN#230] An idol or idols of the Arabs (Allat and Ozza) before
Mohammed (Koran chaps. ii. 256). Etymologically the word means
"error" and the termination is rather Hebraic than Arabic.

[FN#231] Arab. "Khayt hamayán" (wandering threads of vanity), or
Mukhát al-Shaytan (Satan's snivel),=our "gossamer"=God's summer
(Mutter Gottes Sommer) or God's cymar (?).

[FN#232] These lines occur in Night xvii.; so I borrow from
Torrens (p. 163) by way of variety.

[FN#233] A posture of peculiar submission; contrasting strongly
with the attitude afterwards assumed by Prince Charming.

[FN#234] A mere term of vulgar abuse not reflecting on either
parent: I have heard a mother call her own son, "Child of
adultery."

[FN#235] Arab. "Ghazá," the Artemisia (Euphorbia ?) before
noticed. If the word be a misprint for Ghadá it means a kind of
Euphorbia which, with the Arák (wild caper-tree) and the Daum
palm (Crucifera thebiaca), is one of the three normal growths of
the Arabian desert (Pilgrimage iii. 22).

[FN#236] Arab. "Banát al-Na'ash," usually translated daughters of
the bier, the three stars which represent the horses in either
Bear, "Charles' Wain," or Ursa Minor, the waggon being supposed
to be a bier. "Banát" may be also sons, plur. of Ibn, as the word
points to irrational objects. So Job (ix. 9 and xxxviii. 32)
refers to U. Major as "Ash" or "Aysh" in the words, "Canst thou
guide the bier with its sons?" (erroneously rendered "Arcturus
with his sons") In the text the lines are enigmatical, but
apparently refer to a death parting.

[FN#237] The Chapters are: 2, 3, 36, 55, 67 and the two last
("Daybreak" cxiii. and "Men" cxiv.), which are called
Al-Mu'izzatáni (vulgar Al-Mu'izzatayn), the "Two Refuge-takings
or Preventives," because they obviate enchantment. I have
translated the two latter as follows:--

"Say:--Refuge I take with the Lord of the Day-break *
     from mischief of what He did make *
     from mischief of moon eclipse-showing *
     and from mischief of witches on cord-knots blowing *
     and from mischief of envier when envying."

"Say:--Refuge I take with the Lord of men *
     the sovran of men *
     the God of men *
     from the Tempter, the Demon *
     who tempteth in whisper the breasts of men *
     and from Jinnis and (evil) men."

[FN#238] The recitations were Náfilah, or superogatory, two short
chapters only being required and the taking refuge was because he
slept in a ruin, a noted place in the East for Ghuls as in the
West for ghosts.

[FN#239] Lane (ii. 222) first read "Múroozee" and referred it to
the Murúz tribe near Herat he afterwards (iii. 748) corrected it
to "Marwazee," of the fabric of Marw (Margiana) the place now
famed for "Mervousness." As a man of Rayy (Rhages) becomes Rází
(e.g. Ibn Fáris al-Razí), so a man of Marw is Marázi, not Murúzi
nor Márwazi. The "Mikna' " was a veil forming a kind of
"respirator," defending from flies by day and from mosquitos,
dews and draughts by night. Easterns are too sensible to sleep
with bodies kept warm by bedding, and heads bared to catch every
blast. Our grandfathers and grandmothers did well to wear
bonnets-de-nuit, however ridiculous they may have looked.

[FN#240] Iblis, meaning the Despairer, is called in the Koran
(chaps. xviii. 48) "One of the genii (Jinnis) who departed from
the command of his Lord." Mr. Rodwell (in loco) notes that the
Satans and Jinnis represent in the Koran (ii. 32, etc.) the
evil-principle and finds an admixture of the Semitic Satans and
demons with the "Genii from the Persian (Babylonian ?) and Indian
(Egyptian ?) mythologies."

[FN#241] Of course she could not see his eyes when they were
shut; nor is this mere Eastern inconsequence. The writer means,
"had she seen them, they would have showed," etc.

[FN#242] The eyes are supposed to grow darker under the influence
of wine and sexual passion.

[FN#243] To keep off the evil eye.

[FN#244] Like Dahnash this is a fanciful P. N., fit only for a
Jinni. As a rule the appellatives of Moslem "genii" end in–ús
(oos), as Tarnús, Huliyánus, the Jewish in--nas, as Jattunas;
those of the Tarsá (the "funkers" i.e. Christians) in--dús, as
Sidús, and the Hindus in--tús, as Naktús (who entered the service
of the Prophet Shays, or Seth, and was converted to the Faith).
The King of the Genii is Malik Katshán who inhabits Mount Kaf;
and to the west of him lives his son-in-law, Abd al-Rahman with
33,000 domestics: these names were given by the Apostle Mohammed.
"Baktanús" is lord of three Moslem troops of the wandering Jinns,
which number a total of twelve bands and extend from Sind to
Europe. The Jinns, Divs, Peris ("fairies") and other pre-Adamitic
creatures were governed by seventy-two Sultans all known as
Sulayman and the last I have said was Ján bin Ján. The angel
Háris was sent from Heaven to chastise him, but in the pride of
victory he also revolted with his followers the Jinns whilst the
Peris held aloof. When he refused to bow down before Adam he and
his chiefs were eternally imprisoned but the other Jinns are
allowed to range over earth as a security for man's obedience.
The text gives the three orders. flyers. walkers and divers.

[FN#245] i.e. distracted (with love); the Lakab, or poetical
name, of apparently a Spanish poet.

[FN#246] Nothing is more "anti-pathetic" to Easterns than lean
hips and flat hinder-cheeks in women and they are right in
insisting upon the characteristic difference of the male and
female figure. Our modern sculptors and painters, whose study of
the nude is usually most perfunctory, have often scandalised me
by the lank and greyhound-like fining off of the frame, which
thus becomes rather simian than human.

[FN#247] The small fine foot is a favourite with Easterns as well
as Westerns. Ovid (A.A.) is not ashamed "ad teneros Oscula (not
basia or suavia) ferre pedes." Ariosto ends the august person in

          Il breve, asciutto, e ritondetto piece,
          (The short-sized, clean-cut, roundly-moulded foot).

And all the world over it is a sign of "blood," i.e. the fine
nervous temperament.

[FN#248] i.e. "full moons": the French have corrupted it to
"Badoure"; we to "Badoura." winch is worse.

[FN#249] As has been said a single drop of urine renders the
clothes ceremoniously impure, hence a Stone or a handful of earth
must be used after the manner of the torche-cul. Scrupulous
Moslems, when squatting to make water, will prod the ground
before them with the point o f stick or umbrella, so as to loosen
it and prevent the spraying of the urine.

[FN#250] It is not generally known to Christians that Satan has a
wife called Awwá ("Hawwá" being the Moslem Eve) and, as Adam had
three sons, the Tempter has nine, viz., Zu 'l-baysun who rules in
bazars. Wassin who prevails in times of trouble. Awan who
counsels kings; Haffan patron of wine-bibbers; Marrah of
musicians and dancers; Masbut of news-spreaders (and newspapers
?); Dulhán who frequents places of worship and interferes with
devotion. Dasim, lord of mansions and dinner tables, who prevents
the Faithful saying "Bismillah" and "Inshallah," as commanded in
the Koran (xviii. 23), and Lakís, lord of Fire worshippers
(Herklots, chap. xxix. sect. 4).

[FN#251] Strong perfumes, such as musk (which we Europeans
dislike and suspect), are always insisted upon in Eastern poetry,
and Mohammed's predilection for them is well known. Moreover the
young and the beautiful are held (justly enough) to exhale a
natural fragrance which is compared with that of the blessed in
Paradise. Hence in the Mu'allakah of Imr al-Keys:--

Breathes the scent of musk when they rise to rove, *
     As the Zephyr's breath with the flavour o'clove.

It is made evident by dogs and other fine-nosed animals that
every human being has his, or her, peculiar scent which varies
according to age and health. Hence animals often detect the
approach of death.

[FN#252] Arab. "Kahlá." This has been explained. Mohammed is said
to have been born with "Kohl'd eyes."

[FN#253] Hawá al-'uzrí, before noticed (Night cxiv.).

[FN#254] These lines, with the Názir (eye or steward), the Hájib
(Groom of the Chambers or Chamberlain) and Joseph, are also
repeated from Night cxiv. For the Nazir see Al-Hariri (Nos. xiii.
and xxii.)

[FN#255] The usual allusion to the Húr (Houris) from "Hangar,"
the white and black of the eye shining in contrast. The Persian
Magi also placed in their Heaven (Bihisht or Minu) "Huran," or
black-eyed nymphs, under the charge of the angel Zamiyád.

[FN#256] In the first hemistich, "bi-shitt 'it wády" (by the
wady-bank): in the second, "wa shatta 'l wády" ("and my slayer"--
i.e. wády act. part. of wady, killing--"hath paced away").

[FN#257] The double entendre is from the proper names Budúr and
Su'ád (Beatrice) also meaning "auspicious (or blessed) full
moons."

[FN#258] Arab. "Házir" (also Ahl al-hazer, townsmen) and Bádi, a
Badawi, also called "Ahl al-Wabar," people of the camel's hair
(tent) and A'aráb (Nomadic) as opposed to Arab (Arab settled or
not). They still boast with Ibn Abbas, cousin of Mohammed, that
they have kerchiefs (not turbands) for crowns, tents for houses,
loops for walls, swords for scarves and poems for registers or
written laws.

[FN#259] This is a peculiarity of the Jinn tribe when wearing
hideous forms. It is also found in the Hindu Rakshasa.

[FN#260] Which, by the by, are small and beautifully shaped. The
animal is very handy with them, as I learnt by experience when
trying to "Rareyfy" one at Bayrut.

[FN#261] She being daughter of Al-Dimiryát, King of the Jinns.
Mr. W. F. Kirby has made him the subject of a pretty poem.

[FN#262] These lines have occurred in Night xxii. I give
Torrens's version (p. 223) by way of variety.

[FN#263] Arab. "Kámat Alfiyyah," like an Alif, the first of the
Arabic alphabet, the Heb. Aleph. The Arabs, I have said, took the
flag or water leaf form and departed very far from the Egyptian
original (we know from Plutarch that the hieroglyphic abecedarium
began with "a"), which was chosen by other imitators, namely the
bull's head, and which in the cursive form, especially the
Phœnician, became a yoke. In numerals "Alif" denotes one or one
thousand. It inherits the traditional honours of Alpha (as
opposed to Omega) and in books, letters and writings generally it
is placed as a monogram over the "Bismillah," an additional
testimony to the Unity. (See vol. i. p. 1.) In mediæval
Christianity this place of honour was occupied by the cross: none
save the wildest countries have preserved it, but our vocabulary
still retains Criss' (Christ-)cross Row, for horn-book, on
account of the old alphabet and nine digits disposed in the form
of a Latin cross. Hence Tickell ("The Horn-book"):

        ----Mortals ne'er shall know
          More than contained of old the Chris'-cross Row.

[FN#264] The young man must have been a demon of chastity.

[FN#265] Arab. "Kirát" from          i.e. bean, the seed of the
Abrus precatorius, in weight=two to three (English) grains; and
in length=one finger-breadth here; 24 being the total. The Moslem
system is evidently borrowed from the Roman "as" and "uncia."

[FN#266] Names of women.

[FN#267] Arab. "Amsa" (lit. he passed the evening) like "asbaha"
(he rose in the morning) "Azhá" (he spent the forenoon) and
"bata" (he spent the night), are idiomatically used for "to be in
any state, to continue" without specification of time or season.

[FN#268] Lit. "my liver ;" which viscus, and not the heart, is
held the seat of passion, a fancy dating from the oldest days.
Theocritus says of Hercules, "In his liver Love had fixed a
wound" (Idyl. xiii.). In the Anthologia "Cease, Love, to wound my
liver and my heart" (lib. vii.). So Horace (Odes, i. 2); his
Latin Jecur and the Persian "Jigar" being evident congeners. The
idea was long prevalent and we find in Shakespeare:--

          Alas, then Love may be called appetite,
          No motion of the liver but the palate.

[FN#269] A marvellous touch of nature, love ousting affection;
the same trait will appear in the lover and both illustrate the
deep Italian saying, "Amor discende, non ascende." The further it
goes down the stronger it becomes as of grand-parent for
grand-child and vice versa.

[FN#270] This tenet of the universal East is at once fact and
unfact. As a generalism asserting that women's passion is ten
times greater than man's (Pilgrimage, ii. 282), it is unfact. The
world shows that while women have more philoprogenitiveness, men
have more amativeness; otherwise the latter would not propose and
would nurse the doll and baby. Pact, however, in low-lying lands,
like Persian Mazanderan versus the Plateau; Indian Malabar
compared with Marátha-land; California as opposed to Utah and
especially Egypt contrasted with Arabia. In these hot damp
climates the venereal requirements and reproductive powers of the
female greatly exceed those of the male; and hence the
dissoluteness of morals would be phenomenal, were it not obviated
by seclusion, the sabre and the revolver. In cold-dry or hot-dry
mountainous lands the reverse is the case; hence polygamy there
prevails whilst the low countries require polyandry in either
form, legal or illegal (i,e. prostitution) I have discussed this
curious point of "geographical morality" (for all morality is,
like conscience, both geographical and chronological), a subject
so interesting to the lawgiver, the student of ethics and the
anthropologist, in "The City of the Saints " But strange and
unpleasant truths progress slowly, especially in  England.

[FN#271] This morning evacuation is considered, in the East, a
sine quâ non of health; and old Anglo-Indians are unanimous in
their opinion of the "bard fajar" (as they mispronounce the
dawn-clearance). The natives of India, Hindús (pagans) and Hindís
(Moslems), unlike Europeans, accustom themselves to evacuate
twice a day, evening as well as morning. This may, perhaps,
partly account for their mildness and effeminacy; for:--

          C'est la constipation qui rend l'homme rigoureux.

The English, since the first invasion of cholera, in October,
1831, are a different race from their costive grandparents who
could not dine without a "dinner-pill." Curious to say the
clyster is almost unknown to the people of Hindostan although the
barbarous West Africans use it daily to "wash 'um belly," as the
Bonney-men say. And, as Sonnini notes to propose the process in
Egypt under the Beys might have cost a Frankish medico his life.

[FN#272] The Egyptian author cannot refrain from this
characteristic polissonnerie; and reading it out is always
followed by a roar of laughter. Even serious writers like Al-
Hariri do not, as I have noted, despise the indecency.

[FN#273] "'Long beard and little wits," is a saying throughout
the East where the Kausaj (= man with thin, short beard) is
looked upon as cunning and tricksy. There is a venerable Joe
Miller about a schoolmaster who, wishing to singe his long beard
short, burnt it off and his face to boot:--which reminded him of
the saying. A thick beard is defined as one which wholly conceals
the skin; and in ceremonial ablution it must be combed out with
the fingers till the water reach the roots. The Sunnat, or
practice of the Prophet, was to wear the beard not longer than
one hand and two fingers' breadth. In Persian "Kúseh" (thin
beard) is an insulting term opposed to "Khush-rísh," a
well-bearded man. The Iranian growth is perhaps the finest in the
world, often extending to the waist; but it gives infinite
trouble, requiring, for instance, a bag when travelling. The Arab
beard is often composed of two tufts on the chin-sides and
straggling hairs upon the cheeks; and this is a severe
mortification, especially to Shaykhs and elders, who not only
look upon the beard as one of man's characteristics, but attach a
religious importance to the appendage. Hence the enormity of
Kamar al-Zaman's behaviour. The Persian festival of the vernal
equinox was called Kusehnishín (Thin-beard sitting). An old man
with one eye paraded the streets on an ass with a crow in one
hand and a scourge and fan in the other, cooling himself,
flogging the bystanders and crying heat! heat! (garmá! garmá!).
For other particulars see Richardson (Dissertation, p. Iii.).
This is the Italian Giorno delle Vecchie, Thursday in Mid Lent,
March 12 (1885), celebrating the death of Winter and the birth of
Spring.

[FN#274] I quote Torrens (p. 400) as these lines have occurred in
Night xxxviii.

[FN#275] Moslems have only two names for week days, Friday,
Al-Jum'ah or meeting-day, and Al-Sabt, Sabbath day, that is
Saturday. The others are known by numbers after Quaker fashion
with us, the usage of Portugal and Scandinavia.

[FN#276] Our last night.

[FN#277] Arab. "Tayf"=phantom, the nearest approach to our
"ghost," that queer remnant of Fetishism imbedded in
Christianity; the phantasma, the shade (not the soul) of tile
dead. Hence the accurate Niebuhr declares, "apparitions (i.e., of
the departed) are unknown in Arabia." Haunted houses are there
tenanted by Ghuls, Jinns and a host of supernatural creatures;
but not by ghosts proper; and a man may live years in Arabia
before he ever hears of the "Tayf." With the Hindus it is
otherwise (Pilgrimage iii. 144). Yet the ghost, the embodied fear
of the dead and of death is common, in a greater or less degree,
to all peoples; and, as modern Spiritualism proves, that ghost is
not yet laid.

[FN#278] Mr. Payne (iii. 133) omits the lines which are àpropos
de rein and read much like "nonsense verses." I retain them
simply because they are in the text.

[FN#279] The first two couplets are the quatrain (or octave) in
Night xxxv.

[FN#280] Arab. "Ar'ar," the Heb. "Aroer," which Luther and the A.
V. translate "heath." The modern Aramaic name is "Lizzáb"
(Unexplored Syria. i. 68).

[FN#281] In the old version and the Bresl. Edit. (iii. 220) the
Princess beats the "Kahramánah," but does not kill her.

[FN#282] 'This is still the popular Eastern treatment of the
insane.

[FN#283] Pers. "Marz-bán" = Warden of the Marches, Margrave. The
foster-brother in the East is held dear as, and often dearer
than, kith and kin.

[FN#284] The moderns believe most in the dawn-dream.
          --Quirinus

Post mediam noctem visus, quum somnia vera.
          (Horace Sat. i. 10, 33,)

[FN#285] The Bresl. Edit. (iii. 223) and Galland have "Torf:"
Lane (ii. 115) "El-Tarf."

[FN#286] Arab. "Maghzal ;" a more favourite comparison is with a
tooth pick. Both are used by Nizami and Al-Hariri, the most
"elegant" of Arab writers.

[FN#287] These form a Kasídah, Ode or Elegy= rhymed couplets
numbering more than thirteen: If shorter it is called a "Ghazal."
I have not thought it necessary to preserve the monorhyme.

[FN#288] Sulaymá dim. of Salmá= any beautiful woman Rabáb = the
viol mostly single stringed: Tan'oum=she who is soft and gentle.
These fictitious names are for  his old flames.

[FN#289] i.e. wine. The distich is highly fanciful and the
conceits would hardly occur to a

[FN#290] Arab. "Andam," a term applied to Brazil-wood (also
called "Bakkam") and to "dragon's blood," but not, I think, to
tragacanth, the "goat's thorn," which does not dye. Andam is
often mentioned in The Nights.

[FN#291] The superior merit of the first (explorer, etc.) is a
lieu commun with Arabs. So Al-Hariri in Preface quotes his
predecessor:--

          Justly of praise the price I pay;
          The praise is his who leads the way.

[FN#292] There were two Lukmans, of whom more in a future page.

[FN#293] This symbolic action is repeatedly mentioned in The
Nights.

[FN#294] Arab. "Shakhs"=a person, primarily a dark spot. So
"Sawád"=blackness, in Al-Hariri means a group of people who
darken the ground by their shade.

[FN#295] The first bath after sickness, I have said, is called
"Ghusl al-Sihhah,"--the Washing of Health.

[FN#296] The words "malady" and "disease" are mostly avoided
during these dialogues as ill-omened words which may bring on a
relapse.

[FN#297] Solomon's carpet of green silk which carried him and all
his host through the air is a Talmudic legend generally accepted
in Al-Islam though not countenanced by the Koran. chaps xxvii.
When the "gnat's wing" is mentioned, the reference is to Nimrod
who, for boasting that he was lord of all, was tortured during
four hundred years by a gnat sent by Allah up his ear or nostril.

[FN#298] The absolute want of morality and filial affection in
the chaste young man is supposed to be caused by the violence of
his passion, and he would be pardoned because he "loved much."

[FN#299] I have noticed the geomantic process in my "History of
Sindh" (chaps. vii.). It is called "Zarb al-Ram!" (strike the
sand, the French say "frapper le sable") because the rudest form
is to make on the ground dots at haphazard, usually in four lines
one above the other: these are counted and, if even-numbered, two
are taken ( ** ); if odd one ( * ); and thus the four lines will
form a scheme say  *     *
                      *
                      *
                   *     *
This is  repeated three times, producing the same number of
figures; and then the combination is sought in an explanatory
table or, if the practitioner be expert, he pronounces off-hand.
The Nights speak of a "Takht Raml" or a board, like a schoolboy's
slate, upon which the dots are inked instead of points in sand.
The moderns use a "Kura'h," or oblong die, upon whose sides the
dots, odd and even, are marked; and these dice are hand-thrown to
form the e figure. By way of complication Geomancy is mixed up
with astrology and then it becomes a most complicated kind of
ariolation and an endless study. "Napoleon's Book of Fate," a
chap-book which appeared some years ago, was Geomancy in its
simplest and most ignorant shape. For the rude African form see
my Mission to Dahome, i. 332, and for that of Darfour, pp. 360-69
of Shaykh Mohammed's Voyage before quoted.

[FN#300] Translators understand this of writing marriage
contracts; I take it in a more general sense.

[FN#301] These lines are repeated from Night Ixxv.: with Mr.
Payne's permission I give his rendering (iii. 153) by way of
variety.

[FN#302] The comparison is characteristically Arab.

[FN#303] Not her "face": the head, and especially the back of the
head, must always be kept covered, even before the father.

[FN#304] Arab. "Siwák"=a tooth-stick; "Siwá-ka"=lit. other than
thou.

[FN#305] Arab. "Arák"=tooth stick of the wild caper-tree;
"Ará-ka" lit.=I see thee. The capparis spinosa is a common
desert-growth and the sticks about a span long (usually called
Miswák), are sold in quantities at Meccah after being dipped in
Zemzem water. In India many other woods are used, date-tree,
Salvadora, Achyrantes, phyllanthus, etc. Amongst Arabs peculiar
efficacy accompanies the tooth-stick of olive, "the tree
springing from Mount Sinai" (Koran xxiii. 20); and Mohammed would
use no other, because it prevents decay and scents the mouth.
Hence Koran, chaps. xcv. 1. The "Miswák" is held with the unused
end between the ring-finger and minimus, the two others grasp the
middle and the thumb is pressed against the back close to the
lips. These articles have long been sold at the Medical Hall near
the "Egyptian Hall," Piccadilly. They are better than our unclean
tooth-brushes because each tooth gets its own especial rubbing'
not a general sweep; at the same time the operation is longer and
more troublesome. In parts of Africa as well as Asia many men
walk about with the tooth-stick hanging by a string from the
neck.

[FN#306] The "Mehari," of which the Algerine-French speak, are
the dromedaries bred by the Mahrah tribe of Al-Yaman, the
descendants of Mahrat ibn Haydan. They are covered by small wild
camels (?) called Al-Húsh, found between Oman and Al-Shihr:
others explain the word to mean "stallions of the Jinns " and
term those savage and supernatural animals, "Najáib
al-Mahriyah"–nobles of the Mahrah.

[FN#307] Arab. "Khaznah"=a thousand purses; now about £5000. It
denotes a large sum of money, like the "Badrah," a purse
containing 10,000 dirhams of silver (Al-Hariri), or 80,000
(Burckhardt Prov. 380); whereas the "Nisáb" is a moderate sum of
money, gen. 20 gold dinars=200 silver dirhams.

[FN#308] As The Nights show, Arabs admire slender forms; but the
hips and hinder cheeks must be highly developed and the stomach
fleshy rather than lean. The reasons are obvious. The Persians
who exaggerate everything say e.g. (Husayn Váiz in the
Anvár-i-Suhayli):--

          How paint her hips and waist ? Who saw
          A mountain (Koh) dangling to a straw (káh)?

In Antar his beloved Abla is a tamarisk (T. Orientalis). Others
compare with the palm-tree (Solomon), the Cypress (Persian, esp.
Hafiz and Firdausi) and the Arák or wild Capparis (Arab.).

[FN#309] Ubi aves ibi angel). All African travellers know that a
few birds flying about the bush, and a few palm-trees waving in
the wind, denote the neighbourhood of a village or a camp (where
angels are scarce). The reason is not any friendship for man but
because food, animal and vegetable, is more plentiful Hence
Albatrosses, Mother Carey's (Mater Cara, the Virgin) chickens,
and Cape pigeons follow ships.

[FN#310] The stanza is called Al-Mukhammas=cinquains; the
quatrains and the "bob," or "burden" always preserve the same
consonance. It ends with a Koranic lieu commun of Moslem
morality.

[FN#311] Moslem port towns usually have (or had) only two gates.
Such was the case with Bayrut, Tyre, Sidon and a host of others;
the faubourg-growth of modern days has made these obsolete. The
portals much resemble the entrances of old Norman castles--Arques
for instance. (Pilgrimage i. 185.)

[FN#312] Arab. "Lisám"; before explained.

[FN#313] i.e. Life of Souls (persons, etc.).

[FN#314] Arab. "Insánu-há"=her (i.e. their) man: i.e. the babes
of the eyes: the Assyrian Ishon, dim. of Ish=Man; which the
Hebrews call "Bábat" or "Bit" (the daughter) the Arabs "Bubu (or
Hadakat) al-Aye"; the Persians "Mardumak-i-chashm" (mannikin of
the eye); the Greeks      and the Latins pupa, pupula, pupilla. I
have noted this in the Lyricks of Camoens (p. 449).

[FN#315] Ma'an bin Zá'idah, a soldier and statesman of the eighth
century.

[FN#316] The mildness of the Caliph Mu'áwiyah, the founder of the
Ommiades, proverbial among the Arabs, much resembles the
"meekness" of Moses the Law-giver, which commentators seem to
think has been foisted into Numbers xii. 3.

[FN#317] Showing that there had been no consummation of the
marriage which would have demanded "Ghusl," or total ablution, at
home or in the Hammam.

[FN#318] I have noticed this notable desert-growth.

[FN#319] 'The "situation" is admirable, solution appearing so
difficult and catastrophe imminent.

[FN#320] This quatrain occurs in Night ix.: I have borrowed from
Torrens (p. 79) by way of variety.

[FN#321] The belief that young pigeon's blood resembles the
virginal discharge is universal; but the blood most resembling
man's is that of the pig which in other points is so very human.
In our day Arabs and Hindus rarely submit to inspection the
nuptial sheet as practiced by the Israelites and Persians. The
bride takes to bed a white kerchief with which she staunches the
blood and next morning the stains are displayed in the Harem. In
Darfour this is done by the bridegroom. "Prima Venus debet esse
cruenta," say the Easterns with much truth, and they have no
faith in our complaisant creed which allows the hymen-membrane to
disappear by any but one accident.

[FN#322] Not meaning the two central divisions commanded by the
King and his Wazir.

[FN#323] Ironicè.

[FN#324] Arab. "Rasy"=praising in a funeral sermon.

[FN#325] Arab. "Manáyá," plur. of "Maniyat" = death. Mr. R. S.
Poole (the Academy, April 26, 1879) reproaches Mr. Payne for
confounding "Muniyat" (desire) with "Maniyat" (death) but both
are written the same except when vowel-points are used.

[FN#326] Arab. "Iddat," alluding to the months of celibacy which,
according to Moslem law, must be passed by a divorced woman
before she can re-marry.

[FN#327] Arab. "Talák bi'l-Salásah"=a triple divorce which cannot
be revoked; nor can the divorcer re-marry the same woman till
after consummation with another husband. This subject will
continually recur.

[FN#328] An allusion to a custom of the pagan Arabs in the days
of ignorant Heathenism The blood or brain, soul or personality of
the murdered man formed a bird called Sady or Hámah (not the Humá
or Humái, usually translated "phœnix") which sprang from the
head, where four of the five senses have their seat, and haunted
his tomb, crying continually, "Uskúni!"=Give me drink (of the
slayer's blood) ! and which disappeared only  when the vendetta
was accomplished. Mohammed forbade the belief. Amongst the
Southern Slavs the cuckoo is supposed to be the sister of a
murdered man ever calling or vengeance.

[FN#329] To obtain a blessing and show how he valued it.

[FN#330] Well-known tribes of proto-historic Arabs who flourished
before the time of Abraham: see Koran (chaps. xxvi. et passim).
They will be repeatedly mentioned in The Nights and notes.

[FN#331] Arab. "Amtár"; plur. of "Matr," a large vessel of
leather or wood for water, etc.

[FN#332] Arab. "Asáfírí," so called because they attract sparrows
(asáfír) a bird very fond of the ripe oily fruit. In the Romance
of "Antar" Asáfír camels are beasts that fly like birds in
fleetness. The reader must not confound the olives of the text
with the hard unripe berries ("little plums pickled in stale")
which appear at English tables, nor wonder that bread and olives
are the beef-steak and potatoes of many Mediterranean peoples It
is an excellent diet, the highly oleaginous fruit supplying the
necessary carbon,

[FN#333] Arab. "Tamer al-Hindi"=the "Indian-date," whence our
word "Tamarind." A sherbet of the pods, being slightly laxative,
is much drunk during the great heats; and the dried fruit, made
into small round cakes, is sold in the bazars. The traveller is
advised not to sleep under the tamarind's shade, which is
infamous for causing ague and fever. In Sind I derided the
"native nonsense," passed the night under an "Indian date-tree"
and awoke with a fine specimen of ague which lasted me a week.

[FN#334] Moslems are not agreed upon the length of the Day of
Doom when all created things, marshalled by the angels, await
final judgment; the different periods named are 40 years, 70, 300
and 50,000. Yet the trial itself will last no longer than while
one may milk an ewe, or than "the space between two milkings of a
she-camel." This is bringing down Heaven to Earth with a witness;
but, after all, the Heaven of all faiths, including
"Spiritualism," the latest development, is only an earth more or
less glorified even as the Deity is humanity more or less
perfected.

[FN#335] Arab. "Al-Kamaráni," lit. "the two moons." Arab rhetoric
prefers it to "Shamsáni," or {`two suns," because lighter
(akhaff), to pronounce. So, albeit Omar was less worthy than
Abu-Bakr the two are called "Al-Omaráni," in vulgar parlance,
Omarayn.

[FN#336] Alluding to the angels who appeared to the Sodomites in
the shape of beautiful youths (Koran xi.).

[FN#337] Koran xxxiii. 38.

[FN#338] "Niktu-hu taklidan" i.e. not the real thing (with a
woman). It may also mean "by his incitement of me." All this
scene is written in the worst form of Persian-Egyptian
blackguardism, and forms a curious anthropological study. The
"black joke" of the true and modest wife is inimitable.

[FN#339] Arab. "Jamíz" (in Egypt "Jammayz") = the fruit of the
true sycomore (F. Sycomorus) a magnificent tree which produces a
small tasteless fig, eaten by the poorer classes in Egypt and by
monkeys. The "Tín" or real fig here is the woman's parts; the
"mulberry- fig," the anus. Martial (i. 65) makes the following
distinction:--

          Dicemus ficus, quas scimus in arbore nasci,
          Dicemus ficos, Caeciliane, tuos.

And Modern Italian preserves a difference between fico and fica.

[FN#340] Arab. "Ghániyat Azárá" (plur. of Azrá = virgin): the
former is properly a woman who despises ornaments and relies on
"beauty unadorned" (i.e. in bed).

[FN#341] "Nihil usitatius apud monachos, cardinales,
sacrificulos," says Johannes de la Casa Beneventius Episcopus,
quoted by Burton Anat. of Mel. lib. iii. Sect. 2; and the famous
epitaph on the Jesuit,

          Ci-git un Jesuite:
          Passant, serre les fesses et passe vite!

[FN#342] Arab. "Kiblah"=the fronting-place of prayer, Meccah for
Moslems, Jerusalem for Jews and early Christians. See Pilgrimage
(ii. 321) for the Moslem change from Jerusalem to Meccah and
ibid. (ii. 213) for the way in which the direction was shown.

[FN#343] The Koran says (chaps. ii.): "Your wives are your
tillage: go in therefore unto your tillage in what manner so ever
ye will." Usually this is understood as meaning in any posture,
standing or sitting, lying, backwards or forwards. Yet there is a
popular saying about the man whom the woman rides (vulg. St.
George, in France, le Postillon); "Cursed be who maketh woman
Heaven and himself earth!" Some hold the Koranic passage to have
been revealed in confutation of the Jews, who pretended that if a
man lay with his wife backwards, he would beget a cleverer child.
Others again understand it of preposterous venery, which is
absurd: every ancient law-giver framed his code to increase the
true wealth of the people--population--and severely punished all
processes, like onanism, which impeded it. The Persians utilise
the hatred of women for such misuse when they would force a wive
to demand a divorce and thus forfeit her claim to Mahr (dowry);
they convert them into catamites till, after a month or so, they
lose all patience and leave the house.

[FN#344] Koran lit 9: "He will be turned aside from the Faith (or
Truth) who shall be turned aside by the Divine decree;" alluding,
in the text, to the preposterous venery her lover demands.

[FN#345] Arab. "Futúh" meaning openings, and also victories,
benefits. The lover congratulates her on her mortifying self in
order to please him.

[FN#346] "And the righteous work will be exalt": (Koran xxxv. 11)
applied ironically.

[FN#347] A prolepsis of Tommy Moore:--

          Your mother says, my little Venus,
          There's something not quite right between us,
               And you're in fault as much as I,
          Now, on my soul, my little Venus,
          I swear 'twould not be right between us,
               To let your mother tell a lie.

But the Arab is more moral than Mr. Little. as he purposes to
repent.

[FN#348] Arab. "Khunsa" flexible or flaccid, from Khans=bending
inwards, i.e. the mouth of a water-skin before drinking. Like
Mukhannas, it is also used for an effeminate man, a passive
sodomite and even for a eunuch. Easterns still believe in what
Westerns know to be an impossibility, human beings with the parts
and proportions of both sexes equally developed and capable of
reproduction; and Al-Islam even provides special rules for them
(Pilgrimage iii. 237). We hold them to be Buffon's fourth class
of (duplicate) monsters belonging essentially to one or the other
sex, and related to its opposite only by some few
characteristics. The old Greeks dreamed, after their fashion, a
beautiful poetic dream of a human animal uniting the
contradictory beauties of man and woman. The duality of the
generative organs seems an old Egyptian tradition, at least we
find it in Genesis (i. 27) where the image of the Deity is
created male and female, before man was formed out of the dust of
the ground (ii. 7). The old tradition found its way to India (if
the Hindus did not borrow the idea from the Greeks); and one of
the forms of Mahadeva, the third person of their triad, is
entitled "Ardhanárí"=the Half-woman, which has suggested to them
some charming pictures. Europeans, seeing the left breast
conspicuously feminine, have indulged in silly surmises about the
"Amazons."

[FN#349] This is a mere phrase for our "dying of laughter": the
queen was on her back. And as Easterns sit on carpets, their
falling back is very different from the same movement off a
chair.

[FN#350] Arab. "Ismid," the eye-powder before noticed.

[FN#351] When the Caliph (e.g. Al-Tá'i li'llah) bound a banner to
a spear and handed it to an officer, he thereby appointed him
Sultan or Viceregent.

[FN#352] Arab. "Sháib al-ingház"=lit. a gray beard who shakes
head in disapproval.

[FN#353] Arab. "Ayát" = the Hebr. "Ototh," signs, wonders or
Koranic verses.

[FN#354] The Chapter "Al-Ikhlás" i.e. clearing (oneself from any
faith but that of Unity) is No. cxii. and runs thus:--

          Say, He is the One God!
                The sempiternal God,
           He begetteth not, nor is He begot,
                And unto Him the like is not.

It is held to be equal in value to one-third of the Koran, and is
daily used in prayer. Mr. Rodwell makes it the tenth.

[FN#355] The Lady Budur shows her noble blood by not objecting to
her friend becoming her Zarrat (sister-wife). This word is
popularly derived from "Zarar"=injury; and is vulgarly pronounced
in Egypt "Durrah" sounding like Durrah = a parrot (see
Burckhardt's mistake in Prov. 314). The native proverb says,
"Ayshat al-durrah murrah," the sister-wife hath a bitter life. We
have no English equivalent; so I translate indifferently co-wife,
co-consort, sister-wife or sister in wedlock.

[FN#356] Lane preserves the article "El-Amjad" and "El-As'ad;"
which is as necessary as to say "the John" or "the James,"
because neo-Latins have "il Giovanni" or "il Giacomo." In this
matter of the article, however, it is impossible to lay down a
universal rule: in some cases it must be preserved and only
practice in the language can teach its use. For instance, it is
always present in Al-Bahrayn and al-Yaman; but not necessarily so
with Irak and Najd.

[FN#357] It is hard to say why this ugly episode was introduced.
It is a mere false note in a tune pretty enough.

[FN#358] The significance of this action will presently appear.

[FN#359] An "Hadís."

[FN#360] Arab. "Sabb" = using the lowest language of abuse.
chiefly concerning women-relatives and their reproductive parts.

[FN#361] The reader will note in the narration concerning the two
Queens the parallelism of the Arab's style which recalls that of
the Hebrew poets. Strings of black silk are plaited into the long
locks (an "idiot-fringe" being worn over the brow) because a
woman is cursed "who joineth her own hair to the hair of another"
(especially human hair). Sending the bands is a sign of
affectionate submission; and, in extremes" cases the hair itself
is sent.

[FN#362] i.e., suffer similar pain at the spectacle, a phrase
often occurring.

[FN#363] i.e., when the eye sees not, the heart grieves not.

[FN#364] i.e., unto Him we shall return, a sentence recurring in
almost every longer chapter of the Koran.

[FN#365] Arab. "Kun," the creative Word (which, by the by, proves
the Koran to be an uncreated Logos); the full sentence being "Kun
fa kána" = Be! and it became. The origin is evidently, "And God
said, Let there be light: and there was light" (Gen. i. 3); a
line grand in its simplicity and evidently borrowed from the
Egyptians, even as Yahveh (Jehovah) from "Ankh"=He who lives
(Brugsch Hist. ii. 34).

[FN#366] i.e. but also for the life and the so-called "soul."

[FN#367] Arab. "Layáli"=lit. nights which, I have said, is often
applied to the whole twenty-four hours. Here it is used in the
sense of "fortune" or "fate ;" like "days" and "days and nights."

[FN#368] Abdullah ibn al-Zubayr a nephew of Ayishah, who had
rebuilt the Ka'abah in A.H. 64 (A.D. 683), revolted (A.D. 680)
against Yezid and was proclaimed Caliph at Meccah. He was
afterwards killed (A.D. 692) by the famous or infamous Hajjáj
general of Abd al-Malik bin Marwan, the fifth Ommiade, surnamed
"Sweat of a stone" (skin-flint) and "Father of Flies," from his
foul breath. See my Pilgrimage, etc. (iii. 192-194), where are
explained the allusions to the Ka'abah and the holy Black Stone.

[FN#369] These lines are part of an elegy on the downfall of one
of the Moslem dynasties in Spain, composed in the twelfth century
by Ibn Abdun al-Andalúsi. The allusion is to the famous
conspiracy of the Khárijites (the first sectarians in
Mohammedanism) to kill Ah, Mu'awiyah and Amru (so written but
pronounced "Amr") al-As, in order to abate intestine feuds m
Al-Islam. Ali was slain with a sword-cut by Ibn Muljam a name
ever damnable amongst the Persians; Mu'awiyah escaped with a
wound and Kharijah, the Chief of Police at Fustat or old Cairo
was murdered by mistake for Amru. After this the sectarian wars
began.

[FN#370] Arab. "Saráb"= (Koran, chaps. xxiv.) the reek of the
Desert, before explained. It is called "Lama," the shine, the
loom, in Al-Hariri. The world is compared with the mirage, the
painted eye and the sword that breaks in the sworder's hand.

[FN#371] Arab. "Dunyá," with the common alliteration "dániyah"
(=Pers. "dún"), in prose as well as poetry means the things or
fortune of this life opp. to "Akhirah"=future life.

[FN#372] Arab. "Walgh," a strong expression primarily denoting
the lapping of dogs; here and elsewhere "to swill, saufen."

[FN#373] The lines are repeated from Night ccxxi. I give Lane's
version (ii. 162) by way of contrast and--warning.

[FN#374] "Sáhirah" is the place where human souls will be
gathered on Doom-day: some understand by it the Hell Sa'ír (No.
iv.) intended for the Sabians or the Devils generally.

[FN#375] His eyes are faded like Jacob's which, after weeping for
Joseph, "became white with mourning" (Koran, chaps. xxi.). It is
a stock comparison.

[FN#376] The grave.

[FN#377] Arab. "Sawwán" (popularly pronounced Suwán) ="Syenite"
from Syrene; generally applied to silex, granite or any hard
stone.

[FN#378] A proceeding fit only for thieves and paupers:
"Alpinism" was then unknown. "You come from the mountain"
(al-Jabal) means, "You are a clod-hopper"; and "I will sit upon
the mountain"=turn anchorite or magician. (Pilgrimage i. 106.)

[FN#379] Corresponding with wayside chapels in Catholic
countries. The Moslem form would be either a wall with a prayer
niche (Mibráb) fronting Meccah-wards or a small domed room. These
little oratories are often found near fountains, streams or
tree-clumps where travellers would be likely to alight. I have
described one in Sind ("Scinde or the Unhappy Valley" i. 79), and
have noted that scrawling on the walls is even more common in the
East than in the West; witness the monuments of old Egypt
bescribbled by the Greeks and Romans. Even the paws of the Sphinx
are covered with such graffiti; and those of Ipsambul or Abu
Símbal have proved treasures to epigraphists.

[FN#380] In tales this characterises a Persian; and Hero Rustam
is always so pictured.

[FN#381] The Parsis, who are the representatives of the old
Guebres, turn towards the sun and the fire as their Kiblah or
point of prayer; all deny that they worship it. But, as in the
case of saints' images, while the educated would pray before them
for edification (Labia) the ignorant would adore them (Dulia);
and would make scanty difference between the "reverence of a
servant" and the "reverence of a slave." The human sacrifice was
quite contrary to Guebre, although not to Hindu, custom; although
hate and vengeance might prompt an occasional murder.

[FN#382] These oubliettes are common in old eastern houses as in
the medieval Castles of Europe, and many a stranger has met his
death in them. They are often so well concealed that even the
modern inmates are not aware of their existence.

[FN#383] Arab. "Bakk"; hence our "bug" whose derivation (like
that of "cat" "dog" and "hog") is apparently unknown to the
dictionaries, always excepting M. Littré's.

[FN#384] i.e. thy beauty is ever increasing.

[FN#385] Alluding, as usual, to the eye-lashes, e.g.

          An eyelash arrow from an eyebrow bow.

[FN#386] Lane (ii. 168) reads:--"The niggardly female is
protected by her niggardness;" a change of "Nahílah" (bee-hive)
into "Bakhílah" (she skin flint).

[FN#387] Koran iv. 38. The advantages are bodily strength,
understanding and the high privilege of Holy War. Thus far, and
thus far only, woman amongst Moslems is "lesser

[FN#388] Arab. "Amir Yákhúr," a corruption of "Akhor"=stable
(Persian).

[FN#389] A servile name in Persian, meaning "the brave," and a
title of honour at the Court of Delhi when following the name.
Many English officers have made themselves ridiculous (myself
amongst the number) by having it engraved on their seal-rings,
e.g. Brown Sáhib Bahádur. To write the word "Behadir" or
"Bahádir" is to adopt the wretched Turkish corruption.

[FN#390] "Jerry Sneak" would be the English reader's comment; but
in the East all charges are laid upon women.

[FN#391] Here the formula means "I am sorry for it, but I
couldn't help it."

[FN#392] A noble name of the Persian Kings (meaning the planet
Mars) corrupted in Europe to Varanes.

[FN#393] Arab. "Jalláb," one of the three muharramát or
forbiddens, the Hárik al-hajar (burner of stone) the Káti'
al-shajar (cutter of trees, without reference to Hawarden N. B.)
and the Báyi' al-bashar (seller of men, vulg. Jalláb). The two
former worked, like the Italian Carbonari, in desert places where
they had especial opportunities for crime. (Pilgrimage iii. 140.)
None of these things must be practiced during Pilgrimage on the
holy soil of Al-Hijaz--not including Jeddah.

[FN#394] The verses contain the tenets of the Murjiy sect which
attaches infinite importance to faith and little or none to
works. Sale (sect. viii.) derives his "Morgians" from the
"Jabrians" (Jabari), who are the direct opponents of the
"Kadarians" (Kadari), denying free will and free agency to man
and ascribing his actions wholly to Allah. Lane (ii. 243) gives
the orthodox answer to the heretical question:--

Water could wet him not if God please guard His own; *
     Nor need man care though bound of hands in sea he's thrown:
But if His Lord decree that he in sea be drowned; *
     He'll drown albeit in the wild and wold he wone.

It is the old quarrel between Predestination and Freewill which
cannot be solved except by assuming a Law without a Lawgiver.

[FN#395] Our proverb says: Give a man luck and throw him into the
sea.

[FN#396] As a rule Easterns, I repeat, cover head and face when
sleeping especially in the open air and moonlight. Europeans find
the practice difficult, and can learn it only by long habit.

[FN#397] Pers. = a flower-garden. In Galland, Bahram has two
daughters, Bostama and Cavam a. In the Bres. Edit. the daughter
is "Bostan" and the slave-girl "Kawám."

[FN#398] Arab. "Kahíl"=eyes which look as if darkened with
antimony: hence the name of the noble Arab breed of horses
"Kuhaylat" (Al-Ajuz, etc.).

[FN#399] "As'ad"=more (or most) fortunate.

[FN#400] This is the vulgar belief, although Mohammed expressly
disclaimed the power in the Koran (chaps. xiii. 8), "Thou art
commissioned to be a preacher only and not a worker of miracles."
"Signs" (Arab. Ayát) may here also mean verses of the Koran,
which the Apostle of Allah held to be his standing miracles. He
despised the common miracula which in the East are of everyday
occurrence and are held to be easy for any holy man. Hume does
not believe in miracles because he never saw one. Had he
travelled in the East he would have seen (and heard of) so many
that his scepticism (more likely that testimony should be false
than miracles be true) would have been based on a firmer
foundation. It is one of the marvels of our age that whilst
two-thirds of Christendom (the Catholics and the "Orthodox"
Greeks) believe in "miracles" occurring not only in ancient but
even in our present days, the influential and intelligent third
(Protestant) absolutely "denies the fact."

[FN#401] Arab. "Al-Shahádatáni"; testifying the Unity and the
Apostleship.





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