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Title: Tales from the Arabic — Volume 03

Translator: John Payne

Release date: March 1, 2004 [eBook #5244]
                Most recently updated: December 28, 2020

Language: English

Credits: Text scanned by JC Byers and proof read by the volunteers of the Distributed Proofreaders site


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM THE ARABIC — VOLUME 03 ***




Text scanned by JC Byers and proof read by the volunteers of the
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                     TALES FROM THE ARABIC

       Of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814-18) editions of

         The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night

     not occurring in the other printed texts of the work,

                  Now first done into English

                         By John Payne

                       In Three Volumes:



                       VOLUME THE THIRD.



                              1901

                         Delhi Edition


                 Contents of The Third Volume.



                         Breslau Text.

16.  Noureddin Ali of Damascus and the Damsel Sitt El Milah
17.  El Abbas and the King's Daughter of Baghdad
18.  The Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters
19.  The Favourite and Her Lover
20.  The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El
     Mamoun El Hakim Bi Amrillah
     Conclusion





                    Calcutta (1814-18) Text.



21.  Story of Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter
     a.   The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
     b.   The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
Note
Table of Contents of the Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac Editions
Table of Contents of the Breslau Edition
Table of Contents of the Calcutta Edition
Alphabetical Table of the First Lines of the Verse in the "Tales
from the Arabic"
Index to the Names of the "Tales from the Arabic"





                         Breslau Text.



               NOUREDDIN ALI OF DAMASCUS AND THE
                  DAMSEL SITT EL MILAH.[FN#1]



There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a
merchant of the merchants of Damascus, by name Aboulhusn, who had
money and riches and slaves and slave-girls and lands and houses
and baths; but he was not blessed with a child and indeed his
years waxed great; wherefore he addressed himself to supplicate
God the Most High in private and in public and in his inclining
and his prostration and at the season of the call to prayer,
beseeching Him to vouchsafe him, before his admittance [to His
mercy], a son who should inherit his wealth and possessions; and
God answered his prayer. So his wife conceived and the days of
her pregnancy were accomplished and her months and her nights and
the pangs of her travail came upon her and she gave birth to a
male child, as he were a piece of the moon. He had not his match
for beauty and he put to shame the sun and the resplendent moon;
for he had a shining face and black eyes of Babylonian
witchery[FN#2] and aquiline nose and ruby lips; brief, he was
perfect of attributes, the loveliest of the folk of his time,
without doubt or gainsaying.

His father rejoiced in him with the utmost joy and his heart was
solaced and he was glad; and he made banquets to the folk and
clad the poor and the widows. He named the boy Sidi[FN#3]
Noureddin Ali and reared him in fondness and delight among the
slaves and servants. When he came to seven years of age, his
father put him to school, where he learned the sublime Koran and
the arts of writing and reckoning: and when he reached his tenth
year, he learned horsemanship and archery and to occupy himself
with arts and sciences of all kinds, part and parts.[FN#4] He
grew up pleasant and subtle and goodly and lovesome, ravishing
all who beheld him, and inclined to companying with brethren and
comrades and mixing with merchants and travellers. From these
latter he heard tell of that which they had seen of the marvels
of the cities in their travels and heard them say, "He who
leaveth not his native land diverteth not himself [with the sight
of the marvels of the world,] and especially of the city of
Baghdad."

So he was concerned with an exceeding concern for his lack of
travel and discovered this to his father, who said to him, "O my
son, why do I see thee chagrined?" And he answered, "I would fain
travel." Quoth Aboulhusn, "O my son, none travelleth save those
whose occasion is urgent and those who are compelled thereunto
[by need]. As for thee, O my son, thou enjoyest ample fortune; so
do thou content thyself with that which God hath given thee and
be bounteous [unto others], even as He hath been bounteous unto
thee; and afflict not thyself with the toil and hardship of
travel, for indeed it is said that travel is a piece of
torment."[FN#5] But the youth said, "Needs must I travel to
Baghdad, the abode of peace."

When his father saw the strength of his determination to travel,
he fell in with his wishes and equipped him with five thousand
dinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two
serving-men. So the youth set out, trusting in the blessing of
God the Most High, and his father went out with him, to take
leave of him, and returned [to Damascus]. As for Noureddin Ali,
he gave not over travelling days and nights till he entered the
city of Baghdad and laying up his loads in the caravanserai, made
for the bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the
dirt of the road and putting off his travelling clothes, donned a
costly suit of Yemen stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he put
in his sleeve[FN#6] a thousand mithcals[FN#7] of gold and sallied
forth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he went. His gait
confounded all those who beheld him, as he shamed the branches
with his shape and belittled the rose with the redness of his
cheeks and his black eyes of Babylonian witchcraft; indeed, thou
wouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved
from calamity; [for he was] even as saith of him one of his
describers in the following verses:

Thy haters say and those who malice to thee bear A true word,
     profiting its hearers everywhere;
"The glory's not in those whom raiment rich makes fair, But those
     who still adorn the raiment that they wear."

So he went walking in the thoroughfares of the city and viewing
its ordinance and its markets and thoroughfares and gazing on its
folk. Presently, Abou Nuwas met him. (Now he was of those of whom
it is said, "They love the fair,"[FN#8] and indeed there is said
what is said concerning him.[FN#9] When he saw Noureddin Ali, he
stared at him in amazement and exclaimed, "Say, I take refuge
with the Lord of the Daybreak!"[FN#10] Then he accosted the young
Damascene and saluting him, said to him, "Why do I see my lord
alone and forlorn? Meseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not
this country; so, with my lord's permission, I will put myself at
his service and acquaint him with the streets, for that I know
this city." Quoth Noureddin, "This will be of thy favour, O
uncle." Whereat Abou Nuwas rejoiced and fared on with him,
showing him the markets and thoroughfares, till they came to the
house of a slave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth,
"From what city art thou?" "From Damascus," answered Noureddin;
and Abou Nuwas said, "By Allah, thou art from a blessed city,
even as saith of it the poet in the following verses:

Damascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes; For
     the seeker there are black-eyed girls and boys of Paradise."

Noureddin thanked him and they entered the slave-merchant's
house. When the people of the house saw Abou Nuwas, they rose to
do him worship, for that which they knew of his station with the
Commander of the Faithful. Moreover, the slave-dealer himself
came up to them with two chairs, and they seated themselves
thereon. Then the slave-merchant went into the house and
returning with the slave-girl, as she were a willow-wand or a
bamboo-cane, clad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black
and white turban, the ends whereof fell down over her face,
seated her on a chair of ebony; after which quoth he to those who
were present, "I will discover to you a face as it were a full
moon breaking forth from under a cloud." And they said, "Do so."
So he unveiled the damsel's face and behold, she was like the
shining sun, with comely shape and day-bright face and slender
[waist and heavy] hips; brief, she was endowed with elegance, the
description whereof existeth not, [and was] even as saith of her
the poet:

A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, They'd leave
     their idols and her face for only Lord would know;
And if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly
     the salt sea's floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.

The dealer stood at her head and one of the merchants said, "I
bid a thousand dinars for her." Quoth another, "I bid eleven
hundred dinars;" [and a third, "I bid twelve hundred"]. Then said
a fourth merchant, "Be she mine for fourteen hundred dinars." And
the biddings stood still at that sum. Quoth her owner, "I will
not sell her save with her consent. If she desire to be sold, I
will sell her to whom she willeth." And the slave-dealer said to
him, "What is her name?" "Her name is Sitt el Milah,"[FN#11]
answered the other; whereupon the dealer said to her, "By thy
leave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for this price of
fourteen hundred dinars." Quoth she, "Come hither to me." So he
came up to her and when he drew near, she gave him a kick with
her foot and cast him to the ground, saying, "I will not have
that old man." The slave-dealer arose, shaking the dust from his
clothes and head, and said, "Who biddeth more? Who is desirous
[of buying?]" Quoth one of the merchants, "I," and the dealer
said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, shall I sell thee to this
merchant?" "Come hither to me," answered she; but he said "Nay;
speak and I will hearken to thee from my place, for I will not
trust myself to thee," And she said, "I will not have him."

Then he looked at her and seeing her eyes fixed on the young
Damascene, for that in very deed he had ravished her with his
beauty and grace, went up to the latter and said to him, "O my
lord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me." Quoth Noureddin,
"I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder
slave-girl for sixteen hundred dinars?" And he pulled out the
purse of gold. So the dealer returned, dancing and clapping his
hands and saying, "So be it, so be it, or not [at all]!" Then he
came to the damsel and said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, shall I
sell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?"
But she answered, "No," of shamefastness before her master and
the bystanders; whereupon the people of the bazaar and the
slave-merchant departed, and Abou Nuwas and Ali Noureddin arose
and went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her
master's house, full of love for the young Damascene.

When the night darkened on her, she called him to mind and her
heart clave to him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise
she abode days and nights, till she sickened and abstained from
food. So her lord went in to her and said to her, "O Sitt el
Milah, how findest thou thyself?" "O my lord," answered she, "I
am dead without recourse and I beseech thee to bring me my
shroud, so I may look on it before my death." Therewithal he went
out from her, sore concerned for her, and betook himself to a
friend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the
damsel was cried [for sale]. Quoth his friend to him, "Why do I
see thee troubled?" And he answered, "Sitt el Milah is at the
point of death and these three days she hath neither eaten nor
drunken. I questioned her to-day of her case and she said, 'O my
lord, buy me a shroud, so I may look on it before my death.'"
Quoth the draper, "Methinks nought ails her but that she is
enamoured of the young Damascene and I counsel thee to mention
his name to her and avouch to her that he hath foregathered with
thee on her account and is desirous of coming to thy house, so he
may hear somewhat of her singing. If she say, 'I reck not of him,
for there is that to do with me which distracteth me from the
Damascene and from other than he,' know that she saith sooth
concerning her sickness; but, if she say to thee other than this,
acquaint me therewith.'"

So the man returned to his lodging and going in to his
slave-girl, said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, I went out on thine
occasion and there met me the young man of Damascus, and he
saluted me and saluteth thee. Indeed, he seeketh to win thy
favour and would fain be a guest in our dwelling, so thou mayst
let him hear somewhat of thy singing." When she heard speak of
the young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul was like to
depart her body, and answered, saying, "He knoweth my plight and
is ware that these three days past I have eaten not nor drunken,
and I beseech thee, O my lord, by the Great God, to accomplish
the stranger his due and bring him to my lodging and make excuse
to him for me."

When her master heard this, his reason fled for joy and he went
to his friend the draper and said to him, "Thou wast right in the
matter of the damsel, for that she is enamoured of the young
Damascene; so how shall I do?" Quoth the other, "Go to the bazaar
and when thou seest him, salute him and say to him, 'Indeed, thy
departure the other day, without accomplishing thine occasion,
was grievous to me; so, if thou be still minded to buy the girl,
I will abate thee an hundred dinars of that which thou badest for
her, by way of hospitable entreatment of thee and making myself
agreeable to thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land.' If
he say to thee, 'I have no desire for her' and hold off from
thee, know that he will not buy; in which case, let me know, so I
may contrive thee another device; and if he say to thee other
than this, conceal not from me aught.

So the girl's owner betook himself to the bazaar, where he found
the youth seated at the upper end of the merchants' place of
session, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he were the
moon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The young man
returned his salutation and he said to him, "O my lord, be not
thou vexed at the girl's speech the other day, for her price
shall be less than that [which thou badest], to the intent that I
may propitiate thy favour. If thou desire her for nought, I will
send her to thee, or if thou wouldst have me abate thee of her
price, I will well, for I desire nought but what shall content
thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land and it behoveth us
to entreat thee hospitably and have consideration for thee." "By
Allah," answered the youth, "I will not take her from thee but at
an advance on that which I bade thee for her aforetime; so wilt
thou now sell her to me for seventeen hundred dinars?" And the
other answered," O my lord, I sell her to thee, may God bless
thee in her."

So the young man went to his lodging and fetching a purse,
returned to the girl's owner and counted out to him the price
aforesaid, whilst the draper was between them. Then said he,
"Bring her forth;" but the other answered, "She cannot come forth
at this present; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and
night, and on the morrow thou shall take thy slave-girl and go in
the protection of God." The youth fell in with him of this and he
carried him to his house, where, after a little, he let bring
meat and wine, and they [ate and] drank. Then said Noureddin to
the girl's owner, "I beseech thee bring me the damsel, for that I
bought her not but for the like of this time." So he arose and
[going in to the girl], said to her, "O Sitt el Milan, the young
man hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he
hath come to our dwelling and we have entertained him, and he
would fain have thee be present with him."

Therewithal the damsel rose briskly and putting off her clothes,
washed and donned sumptuous apparel and perfumed herself and went
out to him, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-cane, followed
by a black slave girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the
young man, she saluted him and sat down by his side. Then she
took the lute from the slave-girl and tuning it, smote thereon in
four-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first mode
and sang the following verses:

Unto me the world's whole gladness is thy nearness and thy sight;
     All incumbent thy possession and thy love a law of right.
In my tears I have a witness; when I call thee to my mind, Down
     my cheeks they run like torrents, and I cannot stay their
     flight.
None, by Allah, 'mongst all creatures, none I love save thee
     alone! Yea, for I am grown thy bondman, by the troth betwixt
     us plight.
Peace upon thee! Ah, how bitter were the severance from thee! Be
     not this thy troth-plight's ending nor the last of our
     delight!

Therewithal the young man was moved to delight and exclaimed, "By
Allah, thou sayest well, O Sitt el Milan! Let me hear more." Then
he handselled her with fifty dinars and they drank and the cups
went round among them; and her seller said to her, "O Sitt el
Milah, this is the season of leave-taking; so let us hear
somewhat on the subject." Accordingly she struck the lute and
avouching that which was in her heart, sang the following verses:

I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, That from
     the wasted body's wounds distract the anguished soul.
Think not, my lords, that I forget: the case is still the same.
     When such a fever fills the heart, what leach can make it
     whole?
And if a creature in his tears could swim, as in a sea, I to do
     this of all that breathe were surely first and sole.
O skinker of the wine of woe, turn from a love-sick maid, Who
     drinks her tears still, night and morn, thy bitter-flavoured
     bowl.
I had not left you, had I known that severance would prove My
     death; but what is past is past, Fate stoops to no control.


As they were thus in the enjoyment of all that in most delicious
of easance and delight, and indeed the wine was sweet to them and
the talk pleasant, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So
the master of the house went out, that he might see what was to
do, and found ten men of the Khalif's eunuchs at the door. When
he saw this, he was amazed and said to them, "What is to do?"
Quoth they, "The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and
requireth of thee the slave-girl whom thou hast for sale and
whose name is Sitt el Milah." By Allah," answered the other, "I
have sold her." And they said, "Swear by the head of the
Commander of the Faithful that she is not in thy dwelling." He
made oath that he had sold her and that she was no longer at his
disposal; but they paid no *need to his word and forcing their
way into the house, found the damsel and the young Damascene in
the sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon her, and the youth
said, "This is my slave-girl, whom I have bought with my money."
But they hearkened not to his speech and taking her, carried her
off to the Commander of the Faithful.

Therewithal Noureddin's life was troubled; so he arose and donned
his clothes, and his host said, "Whither away this night, O my
lord?" Quoth Noureddin, "I mean to go to my lodging, and
to-morrow I will betake myself to the palace of the Commander of
the Faithful and demand my slave-girl." "Sleep till the morning,"
said the other, "and go not forth at the like of this hour." But
he answered, "Needs must I go;" and the host said to him, "[Go]
in the safeguard of God." So Noureddin went forth, and
drunkenness had got the mastery of him, wherefore he threw
himself down on [a bench before one of] the shops. Now the watch
were at that hour making their round and they smelt the sweet
scent [of essences] and wine that exhaled from him; so they made
for it and found the youth lying on the bench, without sense or
motion. They poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they
carried him to the house of the Chief of the Police and he
questioned him of his affair. "O my lord," answered Noureddin, "I
am a stranger in this town and have been with one of my friends.
So I came forth from his house and drunkenness overcame me."

The prefect bade carry him to his lodging; but one of those in
attendance upon him, by name El Muradi, said to him, "What wilt
thou do? This man is clad in rich clothes and on his finger is a
ring of gold, the beazel whereof is a ruby of great price; so we
will carry him away and slay him and take that which is upon him
of raiment [and what not else] and bring it to thee; for that
thou wilt not [often] see profit the like thereof, more by token
that this fellow is a stranger and there is none to enquire
concerning him." Quoth the prefect, "This fellow is a thief and
that which he saith is leasing." And Noureddin said, "God forbid
that I should be a thief!" But the prefect answered, "Thou
liest." So they stripped him of his clothes and taking the ring
from his finger, beat him grievously, what while he cried out for
succour, but none succoured him, and besought protection, but
none protected him. Then said he to them, "O folk, ye are quit
of[FN#12] that which ye have taken from me; but now restore me to
my lodging." But they answered, saying, "Leave this knavery, O
cheat! Thine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow."
"By Allah, the One, the Eternal," exclaimed he, "I will not sue
any for them!" But they said, "We can nowise do this." And the
prefect bade them carry him to the Tigris and there slay him and
cast him into the river.

So they dragged him away, what while he wept and spoke the words
which whoso saith shall nowise be confounded, to wit, "There is
no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime!"
When they came to the Tigris, one of them drew the sword upon him
and El Muradi said to the swordbearer, "Smite off his head." But
one of them, Ahmed by name, said, "O folk, deal gently with this
poor wretch and slay him not unjustly and wickedly, for I stand
in fear of God the Most High, lest He burn me with his fire."
Quoth El Muradi, "A truce to this talk!" And Ahmed said, "If ye
do with him aught, I will acquaint the Commander of the
Faithful." "How, then, shall we do with him?" asked they; and he
answered, "Let us deposit him in prison and I will be answerable
to you for his provision; so shall we be quit of his blood, for
indeed he is wrongfully used." So they took him up and casting
him into the Prison of Blood,[FN#13]went away.

Meanwhile, they carried the damsel into the Commander of the
Faithful and she pleased him; so he assigned her a lodging of the
apartments of choice. She abode in the palace, eating not neither
drinking and ceasing not from weeping night nor day, till, one
night, the Khalif sent for her to his sitting-chamber and said to
her, "O Sitt el Milah, be of good heart and cheerful eye, for I
will make thy rank higher than [any of] the concubines and thou
shall see that which shall rejoice thee." She kissed the earth
and wept; whereupon the Khalif called for her lute and bade her
sing. So she improvised and sang the following verses, in
accordance with that which was in her heart:

Say, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul's pure desire,
     Moan'st thou as moan the doves and is thy heart for doubt on
     fire?
How many a victim of the pangs of love-liking hath died! Tired is
     my patience, but of blame my censors never tire.

When she had made an end of her song, she cast the lute from her
hand and wept till she swooned away, whereupon the Khalif bade
carry her to her chamber. Now he was ravished with her and loved
her with an exceeding love; so, after awhile, he again commanded
to bring her to his presence, and when she came, he bade her
sing. Accordingly, she took the lute and spoke forth that which
was in her heart and sang the following verses:

What strength have I solicitude and long desire to bear? Why art
     thou purposed to depart and leave me to despair?
Why to estrangement and despite inclin'st thou with the spy? Yet
     that a bough[FN#14] from side to side incline[FN#15] small
     wonder 'twere.
Thou layst on me a load too great to bear, and thus thou dost But
     that my burdens I may bind and so towards thee fare.

Then she cast the lute from her hand and swooned away; so she was
carried to her chamber and indeed passion waxed upon her. After a
long while, the Commander of the Faithful sent for her a third
time and bade her sing. So she took the lute and sang the
following verses:

O hills of the sands and the rugged piebald plain, Shall the
     bondman of love win ever free from pain!
I wonder, shall I and the friend who's far from me Once more be
     granted of Fate to meet, we twain!
Bravo for a fawn with a houri's eye of black, Like the sun or the
     shining moon midst the starry train!
To lovers, "What see ye?" he saith, and to hearts of stone, "What
     love ye," quoth he, "[if to love me ye disdain?"]
I supplicate Him, who parted us and doomed Our separation, that
     we may meet again.

When she had made an end of her song, the Commander of the
Faithful said to her, "O damsel, thou art in love." "Yes,"
answered she. And he said, "With whom?" Quoth she, "With my lord
and my master, my love for whom is as the love of the earth for
rain, or as the love of the female for the male; and indeed the
love of him is mingled with my flesh and my blood and hath
entered into the channels of my bones. O Commander of the
Faithful, whenas I call him to mind, mine entrails are consumed,
for that I have not accomplished my desire of him, and but that I
fear to die, without seeing him, I would assuredly kill myself."
And he said, "Art thou in my presence and bespeakest me with the
like of these words? I will assuredly make thee forget thy lord."

Then he bade take her away; so she was carried to her chamber and
he sent her a black slave-girl, with a casket, wherein were three
thousand dinars and a carcanet of gold, set with pearls, great
and small, and jewels, worth other three thousand, saying to her,
"The slave-girl and that which is with her are a gift from me to
thee." When she heard this, she said, "God forbid that I should
be consoled for the love of my lord and my master, though with
the earth full of gold!" And she improvised and recited the
following verses:

I swear by his life, yea, I swear by the life of my love without
     peer, To please him or save him from hurt, I'd enter the
     fire without fear!
"Console thou thyself for his love," quoth they, "with another
     than he;" But, "Nay, by his life," answered I, "I'll never
     forget him my dear!"
A moon is my love, in a robe of loveliness proudly arrayed, And
     the splendours of new-broken day from his cheeks and his
     forehead shine clear.

Then the Khalif summoned her to his presence a fourth time and
said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, sing." So she improvised and sang
the following verses:

To his beloved one the lover's heart's inclined; His soul's a
     captive slave, in sickness' hands confined.
"What is the taste of love?" quoth one, and I replied, "Sweet
     water 'tis at first; but torment lurks behind."
Love's slave, I keep my troth with them; but, when they vowed,
     Fate made itself Urcoub,[FN#16] whom never oath could bind.
What is there in the tents? Their burdens are become A lover's,
     whose belov'd is in the litters' shrined.
In every halting-place like Joseph[FN#17] she appears And he in
     every stead with Jacob's grief[FN#18] is pined.

When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept till she swooned away. So they sprinkled on her
rose-water, mingled with musk, and willow-flower water; and when
she came to herself, Er Reshid said to her, "O Sitt el Milah,
this is not fair dealing in thee. We love thee and thou lovest
another." "O Commander of the Faithful," answered she, "there is
no help for it." Therewithal he was wroth with her and said, "By
the virtue of Hemzeh[FN#19] and Akil[FN#20] and Mohammed, Prince
of the Apostles, if thou name one other than I in my presence, I
will bid strike off thy head!" Then he bade return her to her
chamber, whilst she wept and recited the following verses:

If I must die, then welcome death to heal My woes; 'twere lighter
     than the pangs I feel.
What if the sabre cut me limb from limb! No torment 'twere for
     lovers true and leal.

Then the Khalif went in to the Lady Zubeideh, pale with anger,
and she noted this in him and said to him, "How cometh it that I
see the Commander of the Faithful changed of colour?" "O daughter
of my uncle," answered he, "I have a beautiful slave-girl, who
reciteth verses and telleth stories, and she hath taken my whole
heart; but she loveth other than I and avoucheth that she loveth
her [former] master; wherefore I have sworn a great oath that, if
she come again to my sitting-chamber and sing for other than I, I
will assuredly take a span from her highest part."[FN#21]Quoth
Zubeideh, "Let the Commander of the Faithful favour me with her
presence, so I may look on her and hear her singing." So he bade
fetch her and she came, whereupon the Lady Zubeideh withdrew
behind the curtain, whereas she saw her not, and Er Reshid said
to her, "Sing to us." So she took the lute and tuning it, sang
the following verses:

Lo, since the day I left you, O my masters, Life is not sweet, no
     aye my heart is light.
Yea, in the night the thought of you still slays me; Hidden are
     my traces from the wise men's sight,
All for a wild deer's love, whose looks have snared me And on
     whose brows the morning glitters bright
I am become, for severance from my loved one, Like a left hand,
     forsaken of the right.
Beauty on his cheek hath written, "Blest be Allah, He who created
     this enchanting wight!"
Him I beseech our loves who hath dissevered, Us of his grace once
     more to reunite.

When Er Reshid heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and said,
"May God not reunite you twain in gladness!" Then he summoned the
headsman, and when he presented himself, he said to him, "Strike
off the head of this accursed slave-girl." So Mesrour took her by
the hand and [led her away; but], when she came to the door, she
turned and said to the Khalif, "O Commander of the Faithful, I
conjure thee, by thy fathers and forefathers, give ear unto that
I shall say!" Then she improvised and recited the following
verses:

O Amir of justice, be kind to thy subjects; For justice, indeed,
     of thy nature's a trait.
O thou my inclining to love him that blamest, Shall lovers be
     blamed for the errors of Fate?
Then spare me, by Him who vouchsafed thee the kingship; For a
     gift in this world is the regal estate.

Then Mesrour carried her to the other end of the sitting-chamber
and bound her eyes and making her sit, stood awaiting a second
commandment; whereupon quoth the Lady Zubeideh, "O Commander of
the Faithful, with thy permission, wilt thou not vouchsafe this
damsel a share of thy clemency? Indeed, if thou slay her, it were
injustice." Quoth he, "What is to be done with her?" And she
said, "Forbear to slay her and send for her lord. If he be as she
describeth him in grace and goodliness, she is excused, and if he
be not on this wise, then slay her, and this shall be thy
justification against her."[FN#22]

"Be it as thou deemest," answered Er Reshid and caused return the
damsel to her chamber, saying to her, "The Lady Zubeideh saith
thus and thus." Quoth she, "God requite her for me with good!
Indeed, thou dealest equitably, O Commander of the Faithful, in
this judgment." And he answered, "Go now to thy place, and
to-morrow we will let bring thy lord." So she kissed the earth
and recited the following verses:

I am content, for him I love, to all abide; So, who will, let him
     blame, and who will, let him chide.
At their appointed terms souls die; but for despair My soul is
     like to die, or ere its term betide.
O thou with love of whom I'm smitten, yet content, I prithee come
     to me and hasten to my side.

Then she arose and returned to her chamber.

On the morrow, the Commander of the Faithful sat [in his hall of
audience] and his Vizier Jaafer ben Yehya the Barmecide came in
to him; whereupon he called to him, saying, "I would have thee
bring me a youth who is lately come to Baghdad, hight [Sidi
Noureddin Ali] the Damascene." Quoth Jaafer, "Hearkening and
obedience," and going forth in quest of the youth, sent to the
markets and khans and caravanserais three days' space, but found
no trace of him, neither lit upon tidings of him. So on the
fourth day he presented himself before the Khalif and said to
him, "O our lord, I have sought him these three days, but have
not found him." Quoth Er Reshid, "Make ready letters to Damascus.
Belike he hath returned to his own land." So Jaafer wrote a
letter and despatched it by a dromedary-courier to the city of
Damascus; and they sought him there and found him not.

Meanwhile, news was brought that Khorassan had been
conquered;[FN#23] whereupon Er Reshid rejoiced and bade decorate
Baghdad and release all who were in the prisons, giving each of
them a dinar and a dress. So Jaafer addressed himself to the
decoration of the city and bade his brother El Fezl ride to the
prison and clothe and release the prisoners. El Fezl did his
brother's bidding and released all but the young Damascene, who
abode still in the Prison of Blood, saying, "There is no power
and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime! Verily, we
are God's and to Him we return." Then said El Fezl to the gaoler,
"Is there any prisoner left in the prison?" "No," answered he,
and El Fezl was about to depart, when Noureddin called out to him
from within the prison, saying, "O my lord, tarry, for there
remaineth none in the prison other than I and indeed I am
oppressed. This is a day of clemency and there is no disputing
concerning it." El Fezl bade release him; so they set him free
and he gave him a dress and a dinar. So the young man went out,
bewildered and knowing not whither he should go, for that he had
abidden in the prison nigh a year and indeed his condition was
changed and his favour faded, and he abode walking and turning
round, lest El Muradi should come upon him and cast him into
another calamity.

When El Muradi heard of his release, he betook himself to the
chief of the police and said to him, "O our lord, we are not
assured from yonder youth, [the Damascene], for that he hath been
released from prison and we fear lest he complain of us." Quoth
the prefect, "How shall we do?" And El Muradi answered, saying,
"I will cast him into a calamity for thee." Then he ceased not to
follow the young Damascene from place to place till he came up
with him in a strait place and a by-street without an issue;
whereupon he accosted him and putting a rope about his neck,
cried out, saying, "A thief!" The folk flocked to him from all
sides and fell to beating and reviling Noureddin, whilst he cried
out for succour, but none succoured him, and El Muradi still said
to him, "But yesterday the Commander of the Faithful released
thee and to-day thou stealest!" So the hearts of the folk were
hardened against him and El Muradi carried him to the master of
police, who bade cut off his hand.

Accordingly, the hangman took him and bringing out the knife,
offered to cut off his hand, what while El Muradi said to him,
"Cut and sever the bone and sear[FN#24] it not for him, so he may
lose his blood and we be rid of him." But Ahmed, he who had
aforetime been the means of his deliverance, sprang up to him and
said, "O folk, fear God in [your dealings with] this youth, for
that I know his affair from first to last and he is void of
offence and guiltless. Moreover, he is of the folk of
condition,[FN#25] and except ye desist from him, I will go up to
the Commander of the Faithful and acquaint him with the case from
first to last and that the youth is guiltless of crime or
offence." Quoth El Muradi, "Indeed, we are not assured from his
mischief." And Ahmed answered, "Release him and commit him to me
and I will warrant you against his affair, for ye shall never see
him again after this." So they delivered Noureddin to him and he
took him from their hands and said to him, "O youth, have
compassion on thyself, for indeed thou hast fallen into the hands
of these folk twice and if they lay hold of thee a third time,
they will make an end of thee; and [in dealing thus with thee], I
aim at reward and recompense for thee[FN#26] and answered
prayer."[FN#27]

Noureddin fell to kissing his hand and calling down blessings on
him and said to him, "Know that I am a stranger in this your city
and the completion of kindness is better than the beginning
thereof; wherefore I beseech thee of thy favour that thou
complete to me thy good offices and kindness and bring me to the
gate of the city. So will thy beneficence be accomplished unto me
and may God the Most High requite thee for me with good!" ["Fear
not,"] answered Ahmed; "no harm shall betide thee. Go; I will
bear thee company till thou come to thy place of assurance." And
he left him not till he brought him to the gate of the city and
said to him, "O youth, go in the safeguard of God and return not
to the city; for, if they fall in with thee [again], they will
make an end of thee." Noureddin kissed his hand and going forth
the city, gave not over walking till he came to a mosque that
stood in one of the suburbs of Baghdad and entered therein with
the night.

Now he had with him nought wherewithal he might cover himself; so
he wrapped himself up in one of the rugs of the mosque [and abode
thus till daybreak], when the Muezzins came and finding him
sitting in that case, said to him, "O youth, what is this
plight?" Quoth he, "I cast myself on your hospitality, imploring
your protection from a company of folk who seek to kill me
unjustly and oppressively, without cause." And [one of] the
Muezzin[s] said, "Be of good heart and cheerful eye." Then he
brought him old clothes and covered him withal; moreover, he set
before him somewhat of meat and seeing upon him signs of gentle
breeding, said to him, "O my son, I grow old and desire thee of
help, [in return for which] I will do away thy necessity."
"Hearkening and obedience," answered Noureddin and abode with the
old man, who rested and took his ease, what while the youth [did
his service in the mosque], celebrating the praises of God and
calling the faithful to prayer and lighting the lamps and filling
the ewers[FN#28] and sweeping and cleaning out the place.

Meanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, the wife of the Commander of the
Faithful, made a banquet in her palace and assembled her
slave-girls. As for Sitt el Milah, she came, weeping-eyed and
mournful-hearted, and those who were present blamed her for this,
whereupon she recited the following verses:

Ye chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new; Needs must th'
     afflicted warble the woes that make him rue.
Except I be appointed a day [to end my pain], I'll weep until
     mine eyelids with blood their tears ensue.

When she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubeideh bade
each damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt el
Milah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, sang thereto
four-and-twenty songs in four-and-twenty modes; then she returned
to the first mode and sang the following verses:

Fortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly At me and
     parted me from him for whom I sigh.
Lo, in my heart the heat of every heart burns high And in mine
     eyes unite the tears of every eye.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept till she made the
bystanders weep and the Lady Zubeideh condoled with her and said
to her, "God on thee, O Sitt el Milah, sing us somewhat, so we
may hearken to thee." "Hearkening and obedience," answered the
damsel and sang the following verses:

Assemble, ye people of passion, I pray; For the hour of our
     torment hath sounded to-day.
The raven of parting croaks loud at our door; Alas, for our raven
     cleaves fast to us aye!
For those whom we cherish are parted and gone; They have left us
     in torment to pine for dismay.
So arise, by your lives I conjure you, arise And come let us fare
     to our loved ones away.

Then she cast the lute from her hand and wept till she made the
Lady Zubeideh weep, and she said to her, "O Sitt el Milah,
methinks he whom thou lovest is not in this world, for that the
Commander of the Faithful hath sought him in every place, but
hath not found him." Whereupon the damsel arose and kissing the
Lady Zubeideh's hands, said to her, "O my lady, if thou wouldst
have him found, I have a request to make to thee, wherein thou
mayst accomplish my occasion with the Commander of the Faithful."
Quoth the princess, "And what is it?" "It is," answered Sitt el
Milah, "that thou get me leave to go forth by myself and go round
about in quest of him three days, for the adage saith, 'She who
mourneth for herself is not the like of her who is hired to
mourn.'[FN#29] If I find him, I will bring him before the
Commander of the Faithful, so he may do with us what he will; and
if I find him not, I shall be cut off from hope of him and that
which is with me will be assuaged." Quoth the Lady Zubeideh, "I
will not get thee leave from him but for a whole month; so be of
good heart and cheerful eye." Whereupon Sitt el Milah was glad
and rising, kissed the earth before her once more and went away
to her own place, rejoicing.

As for Zubeideh, she went in to the Khalif and talked with him
awhile; then she fell to kissing him between the eyes and on his
hand and asked him that which she had promised Sitt el Milah,
saying, "O Commander of the Faithful, I doubt me her lord is not
found in this world; but, if she go about in quest of him and
find him not, her hopes will be cut off and her mind will be set
at rest and she will sport and laugh; for that, what while she
abideth in hope, she will never cease from her frowardness." And
she gave not over cajoling him till he gave Sitt el Milah leave
to go forth and make search for her lord a month's space and
ordered her an eunuch to attend her and bade the paymaster [of
the household] give her all she needed, were it a thousand
dirhems a day or more. So the Lady Zubeideh arose and returning
to her palace, sent for Sitt el Milah and acquainted her with
that which had passed [between herself and the Khalif]; whereupon
she kissed her hand and thanked her and called down blessings on
her.

Then she took leave of the princess and veiling her face,
disguised herself; [FN#30] after which she mounted the mule and
sallying forth, went round about seeking her lord in the
thoroughfares of Baghdad three days' space, but lit on no tidings
of him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without the city.
Now it was the noontide hour and great was the heat, and she was
aweary and thirst waxed upon her. Presently, she came to the
mosque, wherein the young Damascene had taken shelter, and
lighting down at the door, said to the old man, [the Muezzin], "O
elder, hast thou a draught of cold water? Indeed, I am overcome
with heat and thirst." Quoth he, "[Come up] with me into my
house." So he carried her up into his lodging and spreading her
[a carpet and cushions], seated her [thereon]; after which he
brought her cold water and she drank and said to the eunuch, "Go
thy ways with the mule and on the morrow come back to me here."
[So he went away] and she slept and rested herself.

When she awoke, she said to the old man, "O elder, hast thou
aught of food?" And he answered, "O my lady, I have bread and
olives." Quoth she, "That is food fit but for the like of thee.
As for me, I will have nought but roast lamb and broths and fat
rissoled fowls and stuffed ducks and all manner meats dressed
with [pounded nuts and almond-]kernels and sugar." "O my lady,"
replied the Muezzin, "I never heard of this chapter in the Koran,
nor was it revealed unto our lord Mohammed, whom God bless and
keep!"[FN#31] She laughed and said, "O elder, the matter is even
as thou sayest; but bring me inkhorn and paper." So he brought
her what she sought and she wrote a letter and gave it to him,
together with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, "Go into the
city and enquire for such an one the money-changer and give him
this my letter."

The old man betook himself to the city, as she bade him, and
enquired for the money-changer, to whom they directed him. So he
gave him the ring and the letter, which when he saw, he kissed
the letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended its
purport. Then he repaired to the market and buying all that she
bade him, laid it in a porter's basket and bade him go with the
old man. So the latter took him and went with him to the mosque,
where he relieved him of his burden and carried the meats in to
Sitt el Milah. She seated him by her side and they ate, he and
she, of those rich meats, till they were satisfied, when the old
man rose and removed the food from before her.

She passed the night in his lodging and when she arose in the
morning, she said to him, "O elder, may I not lack thy kind
offices for the morning-meal! Go to the money-changer and fetch
me from him the like of yesterday's food." So he arose and
betaking himself to the money-changer, acquainted him with that
which she had bidden him. The money-changer brought him all that
she required and set it on the heads of porters; and the old man
took them and returned with them to Sitt el Milah. So she sat
down with him and they ate their sufficiency, after which he
removed the rest of the food. Then she took the fruits and the
flowers and setting them over against herself, wrought them into
rings and knots and letters, whilst the old man looked on at a
thing whose like he had never in his life seen and rejoiced
therein.

Then said she to him, "O elder, I would fain drink." So he arose
and brought her a gugglet of water; but she said to him, "Who
bade thee fetch that?" Quoth he, "Saidst thou not to me, 'I would
fain drink'?" And she answered, "I want not this; nay, I want
wine, the delight of the soul, so haply, O elder, I may solace
myself therewith." "God forbid," exclaimed the old man, "that
wine should be drunk in my house, and I a stranger in the land
and a Muezzin and an imam,[FN#32] who prayeth with the
true-believers, and a servant of the house of the Lord of the
Worlds! "Quoth she, "Why wilt thou forbid me to drink thereof in
thy house?" "Because," answered he, "it is unlawful." "O elder,"
rejoined she, "God hath forbidden [the eating of] blood and
carrion and hog's flesh. Tell me, are grapes and honey lawful or
unlawful?" Quoth he, "They are lawful;" and she said, "This is
the juice of grapes and the water of honey." But he answered,
"Leave this thy talk, for thou shall never drink wine in my
house." "O Sheikh," rejoined she, "folk eat and drink and enjoy
themselves and we are of the number of the folk and God is very
forgiving, clement."[FN#33] Quoth he, "This is a thing that may
not be." And she said, "Hast thou not heard what the poet saith
... ?" And she recited the following verses:

O son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say. How bitter
     from the convent 'twas to part and fare away!
Ay, and the monks, for on the Day of Palms a fawn there was Among
     the servants of the church, a loveling blithe and gay.
By God, how pleasant was the night we passed, with him for third!
     Muslim and Jew and Nazarene, we sported till the day.
The wine was sweet to us to drink in pleasance and repose, And in
     a garden of the garths of Paradise we lay,
Whose streams beneath the myrtle's shade and cassia's welled
     amain And birds made carol jubilant from every blossomed
     spray.
Quoth he, what while from out his hair the morning glimmered
     white, "This, this is life indeed, except, alas! it doth not
     stay."

"O elder," added she, "if Muslims and Jews and Nazarenes drink
wine, who are we [that we should abstain from it]?" "By Allah, O
my lady," answered he, "spare thine endeavour, for this is a
thing to which I will not hearken." When she knew that he would
not consent to her desire, she said to him, "O elder, I am of the
slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth
on me[FN#34] and if I drink not, I shall perish,[FN#35] nor wilt
thou be assured against the issue of my affair. As for me, I am
quit of blame towards thee, for that I have made myself known to
thee and have bidden thee beware of the wrath of the Commander of
the Faithful."

When the old man heard her words and that wherewith she menaced
him, he arose and went out, perplexed and knowing not what he
should do, and there met him a Jew, who was his neighbour, and
said to him, "O Sheikh, how cometh it that I see thee strait of
breast? Moreover, I hear in thy house a noise of talk, such as I
use not to hear with thee." Quoth the Muezzin, "Yonder is a
damsel who avoucheth that she is of the slave-girls of the
Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid; and she hath eaten
food and now would fain drink wine in my house, but I forbade
her. However she avoucheth that except she drink thereof, she
will perish, and indeed I am bewildered concerning my affair."
"Know, O my neighbour," answered the Jew, "that the slave-girls
of the Commander of the Faithful are used to drink wine, and
whenas they eat and drink not, they perish; and I fear lest some
mishap betide her, in which case thou wouldst not be safe from
the Khalifs wrath." "What is to be done?" asked the Sheikh; and
the Jew replied, "I have old wine that will suit her." Quoth the
old man, "[I conjure thee] by the right of neighbourship, deliver
me from this calamity and let me have that which is with thee!"
"In the name of God," answered the Jew and going to his house,
brought out a flagon of wine, with which the Sheikh returned to
Sitt el Milah. This pleased her and she said to him, "Whence
hadst thou this?" "I got it from my neighbour the Jew," answered
he. "I set out to him my case with thee and he gave me this."

Sitt el Milah filled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank
a second and a third. Then she filled the cup a fourth time and
handed it to the old man, but he would not accept it from her.
However, she conjured him, by her own head and that of the
Commander of the Faithful, that he should take it from her, till
he took the cup from her hand and kissed it and would have set it
down; but she conjured him by her life to smell it. So he smelt
it and she said to him, "How deemest thou?" "Its smell is sweet,"
replied he; and she conjured him, by the life of the Commander of
the Faithful, to taste it. So he put it to his mouth and she rose
to him and made him drink; whereupon, "O princess of the fair,"
said he, "this is none other than good." Quoth she, "So deem I.
Hath not our Lord promised us wine in Paradise?" And he answered,
"Yes. Quoth the Most High, 'And rivers of wine, a delight to the
drinkers.'[FN#36] And we will drink it in this world and the
world to come." She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to
drink, and he said, "O princess of the fair, indeed thou art
excusable in thy love for this." Then he took from her another
and another, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and
his prate.

The folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under the window;
and when he was ware of them, he opened the window and said to
them, "Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one in his own house
doth what he will and none hindereth him; but we drink one poor
day and ye assemble and come, cuckoldy varlets that ye are!
To-day, wine, and to-morrow [another] matter; and from hour to
hour [cometh] relief." So they laughed and dispersed. Then the
girl drank till she was intoxicated, when she called to mind her
lord and wept, and the old man said to her, "What maketh thee
weep, O my lady?" "O elder," replied she, "I am a lover and
separated [from him I love]." Quoth he, "O my lady, what is this
love?" "And thou," asked she, "hast thou never been in love?" "By
Allah, O my lady," answered he, "never in all my life heard I of
this thing, nor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam
or of the Jinn?" She laughed and said, "Verily, thou art even as
those of whom the poet speaketh, when as he saith ..." And she
repeated the following verses:

How long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? The
     shepherd still his flocks forbids, and they obey his rede.
I see yon like unto mankind in favour and in form; But
     oxen,[FN#37] verily, ye are in fashion and in deed.


The old man laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him.
Then said she to him, "I desire of thee a lute."[FN#38] So he
arose and brought her a piece of firewood. Quoth she, "What is
that?" And he said, "Didst thou not bid me bring thee wood?" "I
do not want this," answered she, and he rejoined, "What then is
it that is called wood, other than this?" She laughed and said,
"The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing." Quoth he,
"Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?"
And she said, "Of him who gave thee the wine." So he arose and
betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, "Thou
favouredst us aforetime with the wine; so now complete thy
favours and look me out a thing called a lute, to wit, an
instrument for singing; for that she seeketh this of me and I
know it not" "Hearkening and obedience," replied the Jew and
going into his house, brought him a lute. [The old man took it
and carried it to Sitt el Milah,] whilst the Jew took his drink
and sat by a window adjoining the other's house, so he might hear
the singing.

The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the
lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang the
following verses:

After your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, Did
     not the hope of union some whit my strength sustain.
Ye're gone and desolated by your absence is the world: Requital,
     ay, or substitute to seek for you 'twere vain.
Ye, of your strength, have burdened me, upon my weakliness, With
     burdens not to be endured of mountain nor of plain.
When from your land the breeze I scent that cometh, as I were A
     reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I'm fain.
Love no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And
     blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain.
I wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a
     camp I come, I'm told, "They've fared away again."
My friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I
     forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till
presently sleep overcame her and she slept.

On the morrow, she said to the old man, "Get thee to the
money-changer and fetch me the ordinary." So he repaired to the
money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made
ready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man
returned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When
she had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and
fetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew
drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and
chanted the following verses:

How long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe?
     I'm mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow.
They have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my
     nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!

And when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.

All this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he
likened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put
away from him this thought, and the damsel had no whit of
knowledge of him. Then she broke out again into song and chanted
the following verses:

"Forget him," quoth my censurers, "forget him; what is he?" "If I
     forget him, ne'er may God," quoth I, "remember me!"
Now God forbid a slave forget his liege lord's love! And how Of
     all things in the world should I forget the love of thee?
Pardon of God for everything I crave, except thy love, For on the
     day of meeting Him, that will my good deed be.

Then she drank three cups and filling the old man other three,
sang the following verses:

His love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy,
     For the heat of a red-hot coal that 'twixt his ribs did lie.
Suppose for distraction he seek in the Spring and its blooms one
     day, The face of his loved one holds the only Spring for his
     eye.
O blamer of me for the love of him who denieth his grace, Which
     be the delightsome of things, but those which the people
     deny?
A sun [is my love;] but his heat in mine entrails still rageth,
     concealed; A moon, in the hearts of the folk he riseth, and
     not in the sky.

When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept, whilst the old man wept for her weeping. Then she
fell down in a swoon and presently coming to herself, filled the
cup and drinking it off, gave the old man to drink, after which
she took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted the
following verses:

Thy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes; My case it hath
     altered and banished repose.
The world is upon me all desolate grown. Alack, my long grief and
     forlornness! Who knows
But the Merciful yet may incline thee to me And unite us again,
     in despite of our foes!

Then she wept till her voice rose high and her lamentation was
discovered [to those without]; after which she again began to
drink and plying the old man with wine, sang the following
verses:

They have shut out thy person from my sight; They cannot shut thy
     memory from my spright.
Favour or flout me, still my soul shall be Thy ransom, in
     contentment or despite.
My outward of my inward testifies And this bears witness that
that tells aright.[FN#39]

When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept and lamented. Then she slept awhile and presently
awaking, said, "O elder, hast thou what we may eat?" "O my lady,"
answered the old man, "there is the rest of the food;" but she
said, "I will not eat of a thing I have left. Go down to the
market and fetch us what we may eat." Quoth he, "Excuse me, O my
lady; I cannot stand up, for that I am overcome with wine; but
with me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an
intelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee that which thou
desirest." "Whence hast thou this servant?" asked she; and he
replied, "He is of the people of Damascus." When she heard him
speak of the people of Damascus, she gave a sob, that she swooned
away; and when she came to herself, she said, "Woe's me for the
people of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O
elder, that he may do our occasions."

So the old man put his head forth of the window and called the
youth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave [to
enter]. The Muezzin bade him enter, and when he came in to the
damsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in
bewilderment and would have fled; but she sprang up to him and
seized him, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell
down on the ground in a swoon. When the old man saw them in this
plight, he feared for himself and fled forth, seeing not the way
for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and said to him,
"How comes it that I see thee confounded?" "How should I not be
confounded," answered the old man, "seeing that the damsel who is
with me is fallen in love with the servant of the mosque and they
have embraced and fallen down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the
Khalif come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou
what is to be done in this wherewith I am afflicted of the affair
of this damsel." Quoth the Jew, "For the nonce, take this
casting-bottle of rose-water and go forth-right and sprinkle them
therewith. If they be aswoon for this their foregathering and
embracement, they will come to themselves, and if otherwise, do
thou flee."

The old man took the casting-bottle from the Jew and going up to
Noureddin and the damsel, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they
came to themselves and fell to relating to each other that which
they had suffered, since their separation, for the anguish of
severance. Moreover, Noureddin acquainted Sitt el Milah with that
which he had endured from the folk who would have slain him and
made away with him; and she said to him, "O my lord, let us
presently give over this talk and praise God for reunion of
loves, and all this shall cease from us." Then she gave him the
cup and he said, "By Allah, I will nowise drink it, whilst I am
in this plight!" So she drank it off before him and taking the
lute, swept the strings and sang the following verses:

Thou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst
     bide, Thou wast removed from mine eye, yet still wast by my
     side.
Thou left'st unto me, after thee, languor and carefulness; I
     lived a life wherein no jot of sweetness I espied.
For thy sweet sake, as 'twere, indeed, an exile I had been, Lone
     and deserted I became, lamenting, weeping-eyed.
Alack, my grief! Thou wast, indeed, grown absent from my yiew,
     Yet art the apple of mine eye nor couldst from me divide.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept and Noureddin wept
also. Then she took the lute and improvised and sang the
following verses:

God knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, But still
     with brimming tears straightway mine eyes were fraught;
Yea, passion raged in me and love-longing was like To slay me;
     yet my heart to solace still it wrought.
Light of mine eyes, my hope, my wish, my thirsting eyes With
     looking on thy face can never sate their drought.

When Noureddin heard these his slave-girl's verses, he fell
a-weeping, what while she strained him to her bosom and wiped
away his tears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted
his mind. Then she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played
thereon, after such a wise as would move the phlegmatic to
delight, and sang the following verses:

Whenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day As of my life I do not
     reckon aye;
And when I long to look upon thy face, My life is perished with
     desire straightway.

On this wise they abode till the morning, tasting not the savour
of sleep; and when the day lightened, behold, the eunuch came
with the mule and said to Sitt el Milah, "The Commander of the
Faithful calleth for thee." So she arose and taking her lord by
the hand, committed him to the old man, saying, "I commend him to
thy care, under God,[FN#40] till this eunuch cometh to thee; and
indeed, O elder, I owe thee favour and largesse such as filleth
the interspace betwixt heaven and earth."

Then she mounted the mule and repairing to the palace of the
Commander of the Faithful, went in to him and kissed the earth
before him. Quoth he to her, as who should make mock of her, "I
doubt not but thou hast found thy lord." "By thy felicity and the
length of thy continuance [on life,]" answered she, "I have
indeed found him!" Now Er Reshid was leaning back; but, when he
heard this, he sat up and said to her, "By my life, [is this thou
sayest] true?" "Ay, by thy life!" answered she; and he said,
"Bring him into my presence, so I may see him." But she replied,
"O my lord, there have betided him many stresses and his charms
are changed and his favour faded; and indeed the Commander of the
Faithful vouchsafed me a month; wherefore I will tend him the
rest of the month and then bring him to do his service to the
Commander of the Faithful." Quoth Er Reshid, "True; the condition
was for a month; but tell me what hath betided him." "O my lord,"
answered she, "may God prolong thy continuance and make Paradise
thy place of returning and thy harbourage and the fire the
abiding-place of thine enemies, when he presenteth himself to pay
his respects to thee, he will expound to thee his case and will
name unto thee those who have wronged him; and indeed this is an
arrear that is due to the Commander of the Faithful, in[FN#41]
whom may God fortify the Faith and vouchsafe him the mastery over
the rebel and the froward!"

Therewithal he ordered her a handsome house and bade furnish it
with carpets and other furniture and vessels of choice and
commanded that all she needed should be given her. This was done
during the rest of the day, and when the night came, she
despatched the eunuch with the mule and a suit of clothes, to
fetch Noureddin from the Muezzin's lodging. So the young man
donned the clothes and mounting; rode to the house, where he
abode in luxury and delight a full-told month, what while she
solaced him with four things, to wit, the eating of fowls and the
drinking of wine and the lying upon brocade and the entering the
bath after copulation. Moreover, she brought him six suits of
clothes and fell to changing his apparel day by day; nor was the
appointed time accomplished ere his beauty returned to him and
his goodliness; nay, his charms waxed tenfold and he became a
ravishment to all who looked on him.

One day the Commander of the Faithful bade bring him to the
presence; so his slave-girl changed his raiment and clothing him
in sumptuous apparel, mounted him on the mule. Then he rode to
the palace and presenting himself before the Khalif, saluted him
with the goodliest of salutations and bespoke him with eloquent
and deep-thoughted speech. When Er Reshid saw him, he marvelled
at the goodliness of his favour and his eloquence and the
readiness of his speech and enquiring of him, was told that he
was Sitt el Milah's lord; whereupon quoth he, "Indeed, she is
excusable in her love for him, and if we had put her to death
unrighteously, as we were minded to do, her blood would have been
upon our heads." Then he turned to the young man and entering
into discourse with him, found him well bred, intelligent, quick
of wit and apprehension, generous, pleasant, elegant, erudite. So
he loved him with an exceeding love and questioned him of his
native city and of his father and of the manner of his journey to
Baghdad. Noureddin acquainted him with that which he would know
in the goodliest of words and with the concisest of expressions;
and the Khalif said to him, "And where hast thou been absent all
this while? Indeed, we sent after thee to Damascus and Mosul and
other the towns, but lit on no tidings of thee." "O my lord,"
answered the young man, "there betided thy slave in thy city that
which never yet betided any." And he acquainted him with his case
from first to last and told him that which had befallen him of
evil [from El Muradi and his crew].

When Er Reshid heard this, he was sore chagrined and waxed
exceeding wroth and said, "Shall this happen in a city wherein I
am?" And the Hashimi vein[FN#42] started out between his eyes.
Then he bade fetch Jaafer, and when he came before him, he
acquainted him with the matter and said to him, "Shall this come
to pass in my city and I have no news of it?" Then he bade Jaafer
fetch all whom the young Damascene had named [as having
maltreated him], and when they came, he let smite off their
heads. Moreover, he summoned him whom they called Ahmed and who
had been the means of the young man's deliverance a first time
and a second, and thanked him and showed him favour and bestowed
on him a sumptuous dress of honour and invested him with the
governance over his city.[FN#43]

Then he sent for the old man, the Muezzin, and when the messenger
came to him and told him that the Commander of the Faithful
sought him, he feared the denunciation of the damsel and
accompanied him to the palace, walking and letting wind[FN#44] as
he went, whilst all who passed him by laughed at him. When he
came into the presence of the Commander of the Faithful, he fell
a-trembling and his tongue was embarrassed, [so that he could not
speak]. The Khalif laughed at him and said to him, "O elder, thou
hast done no offence; so [why] fearest thou?" "O my lord,"
answered the old man (and indeed he was in the sorest of that
which may be of fear,) "by the virtue of thy pure forefathers,
indeed I have done nought, and do thou enquire of my conduct."
The Khalif laughed at him and ordering him a thousand dinars,
bestowed on him a sumptuous dress of honour and made him chief of
the Muezzins in his mosque.

Then he called Sitt el Milah and said to her, "The house [wherein
thou lodgest] and that which is therein Is a guerdon [from me] to
thy lord. So do thou take him and depart with him in the
safeguard of God the Most High; but absent not yourselves from
our presence." [So she went forth with Noureddin and] when she
came to the house, she found that the Commander of the Faithful
had sent them gifts galore and abundance of good things. As for
Noureddin, he sent for his father and mother and appointed him
agents and factors in the city of Damascus, to take the rent of
the houses and gardens and khans and baths; and they occupied
themselves with collecting that which accrued to him and sending
it to him every year. Meanwhile, his father and mother came to
him, with that which they had of monies and treasures and
merchandise, and foregathering with their son, saw that he was
become of the chief officers of the Commander of the Faithful and
of the number of his session-mates and entertainers, wherefore
they rejoiced in reunion with him and he also rejoiced in them.

The Khalif assigned them pensions and allowances and as for
Noureddin, his father brought him those riches and his wealth
waxed and his case was goodly, till he became the richest of the
folk of his time in Baghdad and left not the presence of the
Commander of the Faithful night or day. Moreover, he was
vouchsafed children by Sitt el Milah, and he ceased not to live
the most delightsome of lives, he and she and his father and
mother, a while of time, till Aboulhusn sickened of a sore
sickness and was admitted to the mercy of God the Most High.
After awhile, his mother died also and he carried them forth and
shrouded them and buried and made them expiations and
nativities.[FN#45] Then his children grew up and became like unto
moons, and he reared them in splendour and fondness, what while
his wealth waxed and his case flourished. He ceased not to pay
frequent visits to the Commander of the Faithful, he and his
children and his slave-girl Sitt el Milah, and they abode, he and
they, in all solace of life and prosperity till there came to
them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and
extolled be the perfection of the Abiding One, the Eternal! This
is all that hath come down to us of their story.





              EL ABBAS AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER OF
                        BAGHDAD.[FN#46]



There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, in the
city of Baghdad, the Abode of Peace, a king mighty of estate,
lord of understanding and beneficence and liberality and
generosity, and he was strong of sultanate and endowed with might
and majesty and magnificence. His name was Ins ben Cais ben
Rebiya es Sheibani,[FN#47] and when he took horse, there rode
unto him [warriors] from the farthest parts of the two
Iraks.[FN#48] God the Most High decreed that he should take to
wife a woman hight Afifeh, daughter of Ased es Sundusi, who was
endowed with beauty and grace and brightness and perfection and
justness of shape and symmetry; her face was like unto the new
moon and she had eyes as they were gazelle's eyes and an aquiline
nose like the crescent moon. She had learned horsemanship and the
use of arms and had thoroughly studied the sciences of the Arabs;
moreover, she had gotten by heart all the dragomanish[FN#49]
tongues and indeed she was a ravishment to mankind.

She abode with Ins ben Cais twelve years, during which time he
was blessed with no children by her; wherefore his breast was
straitened, by reason of the failure of lineage, and he besought
his Lord to vouchsafe him a child. Accordingly the queen
conceived, by permission of God the Most High; and when the days
of her pregnancy were accomplished, she gave birth to a
maid-child, than whom never saw eyes a goodlier, for that her
face was as it were a pure pearl or a shining lamp or a
golden[FN#50] candle or a full moon breaking forth of a cloud,
extolled be the perfection of Him who created her from vile
water[FN#51] and made her a delight to the beholders! When her
father saw her on this wise of loveliness, his reason fled for
joy, and when she grew up, he taught her the art of writing and
polite letters[FN#52] and philosophy and all manner of tongues.
So she excelled the folk of her time and overpassed her
peers;[FN#53] and the sons of the kings heard of her and all of
them desired to look upon her.

The first who sought her in marriage was King Nebhan of Mosul,
who came to her with a great company, bringing with him an
hundred she-camels laden with musk and aloes-wood and ambergris
and as many laden with camphor and jewels and other hundred laden
with silver money and yet other hundred laden with raiment of
silken and other stuffs and brocade, besides an hundred
slave-girls and an hundred magnificent horses of swift and
generous breeds, completely housed and accoutred, as they were
brides; and all this he laid before her father, demanding her of
him in marriage. Now King Ins ben Cais had bound himself by an
oath that he would not marry his daughter but to him whom she
should choose; so, when King Nebhan sought her in marriage, her
father went in to her and consulted her concerning his affair.
She consented not and he repeated to Nebhan that which she said,
whereupon he departed from him. After this came King Behram, lord
of the White Island, with riches more than the first; but she
accepted not of him and he returned, disappointed; nor did the
kings give over coming to her father, on her account, one after
other, from the farthest of the lands and the climes, each
glorying in more[FN#54] than those who forewent him; but she paid
no heed unto any of one them.

Presently, El Abbas, son of King El Aziz, lord of the land of
Yemen and Zebidoun[FN#55] and Mecca (which God increase in honour
and brightness and beauty!), heard of her; and he was of the
great ones of Mecca and the Hejaz[FN#56] and was a youth without
hair on his cheeks. So he presented himself one day in his
father's sitting-chamber,[FN#57] whereupon the folk made way for
him and the king seated him on a chair of red gold, set with
pearls and jewels. The prince sat, with his head bowed to the
ground, and spoke not to any; whereby his father knew that his
breast was straitened and bade the boon-companions and men of wit
relate marvellous histories, such as beseem the assemblies of
kings; nor was there one of them but spoke forth the goodliest of
that which was with him; but El Abbas still abode with his head
bowed down. Then the king bade his session-mates withdraw, and
when the chamber was void, he looked at his son and said to him,
"By Allah, thou rejoicest me with thy coming in to me and
chagrinest me for that thou payest no heed to any of the
session-mates nor of the boon-companions. What is the cause of
this?"

"O father mine," answered the prince, "I have heard tell that in
the land of Irak is a woman of the daughters of the kings, and
her father is called King Ins ben Cais, lord of Baghdad; she is
renowned for beauty and grace and brightness and perfection, and
indeed many folk have sought her in marriage of the kings; but
her soul consented not unto any one of them. Wherefore I am
minded to travel to her, for that my heart cleaveth unto her, and
I beseech thee suffer me to go to her." "O my son," answered his
father, "thou knowest that I have none other than thyself of
children and thou art the solace of mine eyes and the fruit of
mine entrails; nay, I cannot brook to be parted from thee an
instant and I purpose to set thee on the throne of the kingship
and marry thee to one of the daughters of the kings, who shall be
fairer than she." El Abbas gave ear to his father's word and
dared not gainsay him; so he abode with him awhile, whilst the
fire raged in his entrails.

Then the king took counsel with himself to build his son a bath
and adorn it with various paintings, so he might show it to him
and divert him with the sight thereof, to the intent that his
body might be solaced thereby and that the obsession of travel
might cease from him and he be turned from [his purpose of]
removal from his parents. So he addressed himself to the building
of the bath and assembling architects and builders and artisans
from all the towns and citadels and islands [of his dominions],
assigned them a site and marked out its boundaries. Then the
workmen occupied themselves with the making of the bath and the
setting out and adornment of its cabinets and roofs. They used
paints and precious stones of all kinds, according to the
variousness of their hues, red and green and blue and yellow and
what not else of all manner colours; and each artisan wrought at
his handicraft and each painter at his art, whilst the rest of
the folk busied themselves with transporting thither varicoloured
stones.

One day, as the [chief] painter wrought at his work, there came
in to him a poor man, who looked long upon him and observed his
handicraft; whereupon quoth the painter to him, "Knowest thou
aught of painting?" "Yes," answered the stranger; so he gave him
tools and paints and said to him, "Make us a rare piece of work."
So the stranger entered one of the chambers of the bath and drew
[on the walls thereof] a double border, which he adorned on both
sides, after a fashion than which never saw eyes a fairer.
Moreover, [amiddleward the chamber] he drew a picture to which
there lacked but the breath, and it was the portraiture of
Mariyeh, the king's daughter of Baghdad. Then, when he had made
an end of the portrait, he went his way [and told none of what he
had done], nor knew any the chambers and doors of the bath and
the adornment and ordinance thereof.

Presently, the chief workman came to the palace and sought an
audience of the king, who bade admit him. So he entered and
kissing the earth, saluted him with a salutation beseeming kings
and said, "O king of the time and lord of the age and the day,
may felicity endure unto thee and acceptance and be thy rank
exalted over all the kings both morning and evening![FN#58] The
work of the bath is accomplished, by the king's fair fortune and
the eminence of his magnanimity,[FN#59] and indeed we have done
all that behoved us and there remaineth but that which behoveth
the king." El Aziz ordered him a sumptuous dress of honour and
expended monies galore, giving unto each who had wroughten, after
the measure of his work. Then he assembled in the bath all the
grandees of his state, amirs and viziers and chamberlains and
lieutenants, and the chief officers of his realm and household,
and sending for his son El Abbas, said to him,"O my son, I have
builded thee a bath, wherein thou mayst take thy pleasance; so
enter thou therein, that thou mayst see it and divert thyself by
gazing upon it and viewing the goodliness of its ordinance and
decoration." "With all my heart," replied the prince and entered
the bath, he and the king and the folk about them, so they might
divert themselves with viewing that which the workmen's hands had
wroughten.

El Abbas went in and passed from place to place and chamber to
chamber, till he came to the chamber aforesaid and espied the
portrait of Mariyeh, whereupon he fell down in a swoon and the
workmen went to his father and said to him, "Thy son El Abbas
hath swooned away." So the king came and finding the prince cast
down, seated himself at his head and bathed his face with
rose-water. After awhile he revived and the king said to him,
"God keep thee,[FN#60] O my son! What hath befallen thee?" "O my
father," answered the prince, "I did but look on yonder picture
and it bequeathed me a thousand regrets and there befell me that
which thou seest." Therewithal the king bade fetch the [chief]
painter, and when he stood before him, he said to him, "Tell me
of yonder portrait and what girl is this of the daughters of the
kings; else will I take thy head." "By Allah, O king," answered
the painter, "I limned it not, neither know I who she is; but
there came to me a poor man and looked at me. So I said to him,
'Knowest thou the art of painting?' And he replied, 'Yes.'
Whereupon I gave him the gear and said to him, 'Make us a rare
piece of work.' So he wrought yonder portrait and went away and I
know him not neither have I ever set eyes on him save that day."

Therewithal the king bade all his officers go round about in the
thoroughfares and colleges [of the town] and bring before him all
strangers whom they found there. So they went forth and brought
him much people, amongst whom was the man who had painted the
portrait. When they came into the presence, the Sultan bade the
crier make proclamation that whoso wrought the portrait should
discover himself and have whatsoever he desired. So the poor man
came forward and kissing the earth before the king, said to him,
"O king of the age, I am he who painted yonder portrait." Quoth
El Aziz, "And knowest thou who she is?" "Yes," answered the
other; "this is the portrait of Mariyeh, daughter of the king of
Baghdad." The king ordered him a dress of honour and a slave-girl
[and he went his way]. Then said El Abbas, "O father mine, give
me leave to go to her, so I may look upon her; else shall I
depart the world, without fail." The king his father wept and
answered, saying, "O my son, I builded thee a bath, that it might
divert thee from leaving me, and behold it hath been the cause of
thy going forth; but the commandment of God is a
foreordained[FN#61] decree."[FN#62]

Then he wept again and El Abbas said to him, "Fear not for me,
for thou knowest my prowess and my puissance in returning answers
in the assemblies of the land and my good breeding[FN#63] and
skill in rhetoric; and indeed he whose father thou art and whom
thou hast reared and bred and in whom thou hast united
praiseworthy qualities, the repute whereof hath traversed the
East and the West, thou needest not fear for him, more by token
that I purpose but to seek diversion[FN#64] and return to thee,
if it be the will of God the Most High." Quoth the king, "Whom
wilt thou take with thee of attendants and [what] of good?" "O
father mine," replied El Abbas, "I have no need of horses or
camels or arms, for I purpose not battle, and I will have none go
forth with me save my servant Aamir and no more."

As he and his father were thus engaged in talk, in came his
mother and caught hold of him; and he said to her, "God on thee,
let me go my gait and strive not to turn me from my purpose, for
that needs must I go." "O my son," answered she, "if it must be
so and there is no help for it, swear to me that them wilt not be
absent from me more than a year." And he swore to her. Then he
entered his father's treasuries and took therefrom what he would
of jewels and jacinths and everything heavy of worth and light of
carriage. Moreover, he bade his servant Aamir saddle him two
horses and the like for himself, and whenas the night darkened
behind him,[FN#65] he rose from his couch and mounting his horse,
set out for Baghdad, he and Aamir, whilst the latter knew not
whither he intended.

He gave not over going and the journey was pleasant to him, till
they came to a goodly land, abounding in birds and wild beasts,
whereupon El Abbas started a gazelle and shot it with an arrow.
Then he dismounted and cutting its throat, said to his servant,
"Alight thou and skin it and carry it to the water." Aamir
answered him [with "Hearkening and obedience"] and going down to
the water, kindled a fire and roasted the gazelle's flesh. Then
they ate their fill and drank of the water, after which they
mounted again and fared on diligently, and Aamir still unknowing
whither El Abbas was minded to go. So he said to him, "O my lord,
I conjure thee by God the Great, wilt thou not tell me whither
thou intendest?" El Abbas looked at him and made answer with the
following verses:

In my soul the fire of yearning and affliction rageth aye; Lo, I
     burn with love and longing; nought in answer can I say.
To Baghdad upon a matter of all moment do I fare, For the love of
     one whose beauties have my reason led astray.
Under me's a slender camel, a devourer of the waste; Those who
     pass a cloudlet deem it, as it flitteth o'er the way.
So, O Aamir, haste thy going, e'en as I do, so may I Heal my
     sickness and the draining of the cup of love essay;
For the longing that abideth in my heart is hard to bear. Fare
     with me, then, to my loved one. Answer nothing, but obey.

When Aamir heard his lord's verses, he knew that he was a slave
of love [and that she of whom he was enamoured abode] in Baghdad.
Then they fared on night and day, traversing plains and stony
wastes, till they came in sight of Baghdad and lighted down in
its suburbs[FN#66] and lay the night there. When they arose in
the morning, they removed to the bank of the Tigris and there
they encamped and sojourned three days.

As they abode thus on the fourth day, behold, a company of folk
giving their beasts the rein and crying aloud and saying, "Quick!
Quick! Haste to our rescue, O King!" Therewithal the king's
chamberlains and officers accosted them and said to them, "What
is behind you and what hath befallen you?" Quoth they, "Bring us
before the king." [So they carried them to Ins ben Cais;] and
when they saw him, they said to him, "O king, except thou succour
us, we are dead men; for that we are a folk of the Benou
Sheiban,[FN#67] who have taken up our abode in the parts of
Bassora, and Hudheifeh the Arab[FN#68] hath come down on us with
his horses and his men and hath slain our horsemen and carried
off our women and children; nor was one saved of the tribe but he
who fled; wherefore we crave help [first] by God the Most High,
then by thy life."

When the king heard their speech, he bade the crier make
proclamation in the thoroughfares of the city that the troops
should prepare [for the march] and that the horsemen should mount
and the footmen come forth; nor was it but the twinkling of the
eye ere the drums beat and the trumpets sounded; and scarce was
the forenoon of the day passed when the city was blocked with
horse and foot. So the king passed them in review and behold,
they were four-and-twenty thousand in number, horsemen and
footmen. He bade them go forth to the enemy and gave the
commandment over them to Said ibn el Wakidi, a doughty cavalier
and a valiant man of war. So the horsemen set out and fared on
along the bank of the Tigris.

El Abbas looked at them and saw the ensigns displayed and the
standards loosed and heard the drums beating; so he bade his
servant saddle him a charger and look to the girths and bring him
his harness of war. Quoth Aamir, "And indeed I saw El Abbas his
eyes flash and the hair of his hands stood on end, for that
indeed horsemanship[FN#69] abode [rooted in his heart]."So he
mounted his charger, whilst Aamir also bestrode a war-horse, and
they went forth with the troops and fared on two days. On the
third day, after the hour of the mid-afternoon prayer, they came
in sight of the enemy and the two armies met and the ranks joined
battle. The strife raged amain and sore was the smiting, whilst
the dust rose in clouds and hung vaulted [over them], so that all
eyes were blinded; and they ceased not from the battle till the
night overtook them, when the two hosts drew off from the mellay
and passed the night, perplexed concerning themselves [and the
issue of their affair].

When God caused the morning morrow, the two armies drew out in
battle array and the troops stood looking at one another. Then
came forth El Harith ibn Saad between the two lines and played
with his lance and cried out and recited the following verses:

Algates ye are our prey become; this many a day and night Right
     instantly of God we've craved to be vouchsafed your sight.
So hath the Merciful towards Hudheifeh driven you, A champion
     ruling over all, a lion of great might.
Is there a man of you will come, that I may heal his paint With
     blows right profitful for him who's sick for lust of fight?

By Allah, come ye forth to me, for lo, I'm come to you I May he
who's wronged the victory get and God defend the right![FN#70]

Thereupon there sallied forth to him Zuheir ben Hebib, and they
wheeled about and feinted awhile, then came to dose quarters and
exchanged strokes. El Harith forewent his adversary in smiting
and stretched him weltering in his gore; whereupon Hudheifeh
cried out to him, saying, "Gifted of God art thou, O Harith! Call
another of them." So he cried out, saying, "Is there a
comer-forth [to battle?]" But they of Baghdad held back froni
him; and when it appeared to El Harith that confusion was amongst
them, he fell upon them and overthrew the first of them upon
their last and slew of them twelve men. Then the evening overtook
him and the Baghdadis addressed themselves to flight.

When the morning morrowed, they found themselves reduced to a
fourth part of their number and there was not one of them had
dismounted from his horse. So they made sure of destruction and
Hudheifeh came out between the ranks (now he was reckoned for a
thousand cavaliers) and cried out, saying, "Harkye, my masters of
Baghdad! Let none come forth to me but your Amir, so I may talk
with him and he with me; and he shall meet me in single combat
and I will meet him, and may he who is void of offence come off
safe!" Then he repeated his speech and said, "Why do I not hear
your Amir return me an answer?" But Saad, the amir of the army of
Baghdad, [replied not to him], and indeed his teeth chattered in
his head, whenas he heard him summon him to single combat.

When El Abbas heard Hudheifeh's challenge and saw Saad in this
case, he came up to the latter and said to him, "Wilt thou give
me leave to reply to him and I will stand thee in stead in the
answering of him and the going forth to battle with him and will
make myself thy sacrifice?" Saad looked at him and seeing valour
shining from between his eyes, said to him, "O youth, by the
virtue of the Chosen [Prophet,] (whom God bless and keep,) tell
me [who thou art and] whence thou comest to our succour." "This
is no place for questioning," answered the prince; and Saad said
to him, "O champion, up and at Hudheifeh! Yet, if his devil prove
too strong for thee, afflict not thyself in thy youth."[FN#71]
Quoth El Abbas, "It is of Allah that help is to be
sought,"[FN#72] and taking his arms, fortified his resolution and
went down [into the field], as he were a castle of the castles or
a piece of a mountain.

[When] Hudheifeh [saw him], he cried out to him, saying, "Haste
thee not, O youth! Who art thou of the folk?" And he answered, "I
am Saad [ibn] el Wakidi, commander of the host of King Ins, and
but that thou vauntedst thyself in challenging me, I had not come
forth to thee; for that thou art not of my peers neither art
counted equal to me in prowess and canst not avail against my
onslaught. Wherefore prepare thee for departure,[FN#73] seeing
that there abideth but a little of thy life." When Hudheifeh
heard this his speech, he threw himself backward,[FN#74] as if in
mockery of him, whereat El Abbas was wroth and called out to him,
saying, "O Hudheifeh, guard thyself against me." Then he rushed
upon him, as he were a swooper of the Jinn,[FN#75] and Hudheifeh
met him and they wheeled about a long while.

Presently, El Abbas cried out at Hudheifeh a cry that astonied
him and dealt him a blow, saying, "Take this from the hand of a
champion who feareth not the like of thee." Hudheifeh met the
stroke with his shield, thinking to ward it off from him; but the
sword shore the target in sunder and descending upon his
shoulder, came forth gleaming from the tendons of his throat and
severed his arm at the armpit; whereupon he fell down, wallowing
in his blood, and El Abbas turned upon his host; nor had the sun
departed the pavilion of the heavens ere Hudheifeh's army was in
full flight before El Abbas and the saddles were empty of men.
Quoth Saad, "By the virtue of the Chosen [Prophet], whom God
bless and keep, I saw El Abbas with the blood upon his saddle
pads, [in gouts] like camels' livers, smiting with the sword
right and left, till he scattered them abroad in every
mountain-pass and desert; and when he turned [back to the camp],
the men of Baghdad were fearful of him."

When the Baghdadis saw this succour that had betided them against
their enemies [and the victory that El Abbas had gotten them],
they turned back and gathering together the spoils [of the
defeated host], arms and treasures and horses, returned to
Baghdad, victorious, and all by the valour of El Abbas. As for
Saad, he foregathered with the prince, and they fared on in
company till they came to the place where El Abbas had taken
horse, whereupon the latter dismounted from his charger and Saad
said to him, "O youth, wherefore alightest thou in other than thy
place? Indeed, thy due is incumbent upon us and upon our Sultan;
so go thou with us to the dwellings, that we may ransom thee with
our souls." "O Amir Saad," replied El Abbas, "from this place I
took horse with thee and herein is my lodging. So, God on thee,
name me not to the king, but make as if thou hadst never seen me,
for that I am a stranger in the land."

So saying, he turned away from him and Saad fared on to the
palace, where he found all the suite in attendance on the king
and recounting to him that which had betided them with El Abbas.
Quoth the king, "Where is he?" And they answered, "He is with the
Amir Saad." [So, when the latter entered], the king [looked, but]
found none with him; and Saad, seeing that he hankered after the
youth, cried out to him, saying, "God prolong the king's days!
Indeed, he refuseth to present himself before thee, without leave
or commandment." "O Saad," asked the king, "whence cometh this
man?" And the Amir answered, "O my lord, I know not; but he is a
youth fair of favour, lovesome of aspect, accomplished in
discourse, goodly of repartee, and valour shineth from between
his eyes."

Quoth the king, "O Saad, fetch him to me, for indeed thou
describest to me a masterful man."[FN#76] And he answered,
saying, "By Allah, O my lord, hadst thou but seen our case with
Hudheifeh, what while he challenged me to the field of war and
the stead of thrusting and smiting and I held back from doing
battle with him! Then, whenas I thought to go forth to him,
behold, a cavalier gave loose to his bridle-rein and called out
to me, saying, 'O Saad, wilt thou suffer me to fill thy room in
waging war with him and I will ransom thee with myself?' And I
said, 'By Allah, O youth, whence cometh thou?' Quoth he, 'This is
no time for thy questions.'" Then he recounted to the king all
that had passed between himself and El Abbas from first to last;
whereupon quoth Ins ben Cais, "Bring him to me in haste, so we
may learn his tidings and question him of his case." "It is
well," answered Saad, and going forth of the king's presence,
repaired to his own house, where he put off his harness of war
and took rest for himself.

To return to El Abbas, when he alighted from his charger, he put
off his harness of war and rested awhile; after which he brought
out a shirt of Venetian silk and a gown of green damask and
donning them, covered himself with a turban of Damietta stuff and
girt his middle with a handkerchief. Then he went out a-walking
in the thoroughfares of Baghdad and fared on till he came to the
bazaar of the merchants. There he found a merchant, with chess
before him; so he stood watching him and presently the other
looked up at him and said to him, "O youth, what wilt thou stake
upon the game?" And he answered, "Be it thine to decide." "Then
be it a hundred dinars," said the merchant, and El Abbas
consented to him, whereupon quoth he, "O youth, produce the
money, so the game may be fairly stablished." So El Abbas brought
out a satin purse, wherein were a thousand dinars, and laid down
an hundred dinars therefrom on the edge of the carpet, whilst the
merchant did the like, and indeed his reason fled for joy, whenas
he saw the gold in El Abbas his possession.

The folk flocked about them, to divert themselves with watching
the play, and they called the bystanders to witness of the wager
and fell a-playing. El Abbas forbore the merchant, so he might
lead him on, and procrastinated with him awhile; and the merchant
won and took of him the hundred dinars. Then said the prince,
"Wilt thou play another game?" And the other answered, "O youth,
I will not play again, except it be for a thousand dinars." Quoth
the prince, "Whatsoever thou stakest, I will match thy stake with
the like thereof." So the merchant brought out a thousand dinars
and the prince covered them with other thousand. Then they fell
a-playing, but El Abbas was not long with him ere he beat him in
the square of the elephant,[FN#77] nor did he leave to do thus
till he had beaten him four times and won of him four thousand
dinars.

This was all the merchant's good; so he said, "O youth, I will
play thee another game for the shop." Now the value of the shop
was four thousand dinars; so they played and El Abbas beat him
and won his shop, with that which was therein; whereupon the
other arose, shaking his clothes, and said to him, "Up, O youth,
and take thy shop." So El Abbas arose and repairing to the shop,
took possession thereof, after which he returned to [the place
where he had left] his servant [Aamir] and found there the Amir
Saad, who was come to bid him to the presence of the king. El
Abbas consented to this and accompanied him till they came before
King Ins ben Cais, whereupon he kissed the earth and saluted him
and exceeded[FN#78] in the salutation. Quoth the king to him,
"Whence comest thou, O youth?" and he answered, "I come from
Yemen."

Then said the king, "Hast thou a need we may accomplish unto
thee? For indeed we are exceeding beholden to thee for that which
thou didst in the matter of Hudheifeh and his folk." And he let
cast over him a mantle of Egyptian satin, worth an hundred
dinars. Moreover, he bade his treasurer give him a thousand
dinars and said to him, "O youth, take this in part of that which
thou deserves! of us; and if thou prolong thy sojourn with us, we
will give thee slaves and servants." El Abbas kissed the earth
and said, "O king, may grant thee abiding prosperity, I deserve
not all this." Then he put his hand to his poke and pulling out
two caskets of gold, in each of which were rubies, whose value
none could tell, gave them to the king, saying, "O king, God
cause thy prosperity to endure, I conjure thee by that which God
hath vouchsafed thee, heal my heart by accepting these two
caskets, even as I have accepted thy present." So the king
accepted the two caskets and El Abbas took his leave and went
away to the bazaar.

When the merchants saw him, they accosted him and said, "O youth,
wilt thou not open thy shop?" As they were bespeaking him, up
came a woman, having with her a boy, bareheaded, and [stood]
looking at El Abbas, till he turned to her, when she said to him,
"O youth, I conjure thee by Allah, look at this boy and have pity
on him, for that his father hath forgotten his cap in the shop
[he lost to thee]; so if thou will well to give it to him, thy
reward be with God! For indeed the child maketh our hearts ache
with his much weeping, and God be witness for us that, were there
left us aught wherewithal to buy him a cap in its stead, we had
not sought it of thee." "O adornment of womankind," replied El
Abbas, "indeed, thou bespeakest me with thy fair speech and
supplicatest me with thy goodly words ...But bring me thy
husband." So she went and fetched the merchant, whilst the folk
assembled to see what El Abbas would do. When the man came, he
returned him the gold he had won of him, all and part, and
delivered him the keys of the shop, saying, "Requite us with thy
pious prayers."Therewithal the woman came up to him and kissed
his feet, and on like wise did the merchant her husband; and all
who were present blessed him, and there was no talk but of El
Abbas.

As for the merchant, he bought him a sheep and slaughtering it,
roasted it and dressed birds and [other] meats of various kinds
and colours and bought dessert and sweetmeats and fresh fruits.
Then he repaired to El Abbas and conjured him to accept of his
hospitality and enter his house and eat of his victual. The
prince consented to his wishes and went with him till they came
to his house, when the merchant bade him enter. So El Abbas
entered and saw a goodly house, wherein was a handsome saloon,
with a vaulted estrade. When he entered the saloon, he found that
the merchant had made ready food and dessert and perfumes, such
as overpass description; and indeed he had adorned the table with
sweet-scented flowers and sprinkled musk and rose-water upon the
food. Moreover, he had smeared the walls of the saloon with
ambergris and set [the smoke of burning] aloes-wood abroach
therein.

Presently, El Abbas looked out of the window of the saloon and
saw thereby a house of goodly ordinance, lofty of building and
abounding in chambers, with two upper stories; but therein was no
sign of inhabitants. So he said to the merchant, "Indeed, thou
exceedest in doing us honour; but, by Allah, I will not eat of
thy victual till thou tell me what is the reason of the emptiness
of yonder house." "O my lord," answered the other, "that was El
Ghitrif's house and he was admitted to the mercy of God[FN#79]
and left none other heir than myself; so it became mine, and by
Allah, if thou hast a mind to sojourn in Baghdad, do thou take up
thine abode in this house, so thou mayst be in my neighbourhood;
for that indeed my heart inclineth unto thee with love and I
would have thee never absent from my sight, so I may still have
my fill of thee and hearken to thy speech." El Abbas thanked him
and said to him, "Indeed, thou art friendly in thy speech and
exceedest [in courtesy] in thy discourse, and needs must I
sojourn in Baghdad. As for the house, if it like thee, I will
abide therein; so take of me its price."

So saying, he put his hand to his poke and bringing out therefrom
three hundred dinars, gave them to the merchant, who said in
himself, "Except I take the money, he will not abide in the
house." So he pouched the money and sold him the house, taking
the folk to witness against himself of the sale. Then he arose
and set food before El Abbas and they ate of the good things
which he had provided; after which he brought him dessert and
sweetmeats. They ate thereof till they had enough, when the
tables were removed and they washed their hands with rose-water
and willow-flower-water. Then the merchant brought El Abbas a
napkin perfumed with the fragrant smoke of aloes-wood, on which
he wiped his hand,[FN#80] and said to him, "O my lord, the house
is become thy house; so bid thy servant transport thither the
horses and arms and stuffs." El Abbas did this and the merchant
rejoiced in his neighbourhood and left him not night nor day, so
that the prince said to him, "By Allah, I distract thee from thy
livelihood." "God on thee, O my lord," replied the merchant,
"name not to me aught of this, or thou wilt break my heart, for
the best of traffic is thy company and thou art the best of
livelihood." So there befell strait friendship between them and
ceremony was laid aside from between them.

Meanwhile the king said to his vizier, "How shall we do in the
matter of yonder youth, the Yemani, on whom we thought to confer
largesse, but he hath largessed us with tenfold [our gift] and
more, and we know not if he be a sojourner with us or no?" Then
he went into the harem and gave the rubies to his wife Afifeh,
who said to him, "What is the worth of these with thee and with
[other] the kings?" And he answered, "They are not to be found
save with the greatest of kings and none may avail to price them
with money." Quoth she, "Whence gottest thou them?" So he
recounted to her the story of El Abbas from first to last, and
she said, "By Allah, the claims of honour are imperative on us
and the king hath fallen short of his due; for that we have not
seen him bid him to his assembly, nor hath he seated him on his
left hand."

[When the king heard his wife's words], it was as if he had been
asleep and awoke; so he went forth of the harem and bade
slaughter fowls and dress meats of all kinds and colours.
Moreover, he assembled all his retainers and let bring sweetmeats
and dessert and all that beseemeth unto kings' tables. Then he
adorned his palace and despatched after El Abbas a man of the
chief officers of his household, who found him coming forth of
the bath, clad in a doublet of fine goats' hair and over it a
Baghdadi scarf; his waist was girt with a Rustec[FN#81] kerchief
and on his head he wore a light turban of Damietta make.

The messenger wished him joy of the bath and exceeded in doing
him worship. Then he said to him, "The king biddeth thee in
weal."[FN#82] "Hearkening and obedience," answered El Abbas and
accompanied the messenger to the king's palace.

Now Afifeh and her daughter Mariyeh were behind the curtain,
looking at him; and when he came before the king, he saluted him
and greeted him with the greeting of kings, whilst all who were
present stared at him and at his beauty and grace and perfection.
The king seated him at the head of the table; and when Afifeh saw
him and straitly considered him, she said, "By the virtue of
Mohammed, prince of the Apostles, this youth is of the sons of
the kings and cometh not to these parts but for some high
purpose!" Then she looked at Mariyeh and saw that her face was
changed, and indeed her eyes were dead in her face and she turned
not her gaze from El Abbas a glance of the eyes, for that the
love of him had gotten hold upon her heart. When the queen saw
what had befallen her daughter, she feared for her from reproach
concerning El Abbas; so she shut the wicket of the lattice and
suffered her not to look upon him more. Now there was a pavilion
set apart for Mariyeh, and therein were privy chambers and
balconies and lattices, and she had with her a nurse, who served
her, after the fashion of kings' daughters.

When the banquet was ended and the folk had dispersed, the king
said to El Abbas, "I would fain have thee [abide] with me and I
will buy thee a house, so haply we may requite thee the high
services for which we are beholden to thee; for indeed thy due is
imperative [upon us] and thy worth is magnified in our eyes; and
indeed we have fallen short of thy due in the matter of
distance."[FN#83] When the prince heard the king's speech, he
rose and sat down[FN#84] and kissing the earth, returned thanks
for his bounty and said, "I am the king's servant, wheresoever I
may be, and under his eye." Then he recounted to him the story of
the merchant and the manner of the buying of the house, and the
king said, "Indeed, I would fain have had thee with me and in my
neighbourhood."

Then El Abbas took leave of the king and went away to his own
house. Now it befell that he passed under the palace of Mariyeh
the king's daughter, and she was sitting at a window. He chanced
to look round and his eyes met those of the princess, whereupon
his wit departed and he was like to swoon away, whilst his colour
changed and he said, "Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!"
But he feared for himself lest estrangement betide him; so he
concealed his secret and discovered not his case to any of the
creatures of God the Most High. When he reached his house, his
servant Aamir said to him, "O my lord, I seek refuge for thee
with God from change of colour! Hath there betided thee a pain
from God the Most High or hath aught of vexation befallen thee?
Verily, sickness hath an end and patience doth away vexation."
But the prince returned him no answer. Then he brought out
inkhorn [and pen] and paper and wrote the following verses:


Quoth I (and mine a body is of passion all forslain, Ay, and a
     heart that's all athirst for love and longing pain
And eye that knoweth not the sweet of sleep; yet she, who caused
     My dole, may Fortune's perfidies for aye from her abstain!
Yea, for the perfidies of Fate and sev'rance I'm become Even as
     was Bishr[FN#85] of old time with Hind,[FN#86] a fearful
     swain;
A talking-stock among the folk for ever I abide; Life and the
     days pass by, yet ne'er my wishes I attain),
"Knoweth my loved one when I see her at the lattice high Shine as
     the sun that flameth forth in heaven's blue demesne?"
Her eye is sharper than a sword; the soul with ecstasy It takes
     and longing leaves behind, that nothing may assain.
As at the casement high she sat, her charms I might espy, For
     from her cheeks the envious veil that hid them she had
     ta'en.
She shot at me a shaft that reached my heart and I became The
     bond- man of despair, worn out with effort all in vain.
Fawn of the palace, knowst thou not that I, to look on thee, The
     world have traversed, far and wide, o'er many a hill and
     plain?
Read then my writ and pity thou the blackness of my fate, Sick,
     love- distraught, without a friend to whom I may complain.

Now the merchant's wife aforesaid, who was the nurse of the
king's daughter, was watching him from a window, unknown of him,
and [when she heard his verses], she knew that there hung some
rare story by him; so she went in to him and said, "Peace be on
thee, O afflicted one, who acquaintest not physician with thy
case! Verily, thou exposest thyself unto grievous peril! I
conjure thee by the virtue of Him who hath afflicted thee and
stricken thee with the constraint of love-liking, that thou
acquaint me with thine affair and discover to me the truth of thy
secret; for that indeed I have heard from thee verses that
trouble the wit and dissolve the body." So he acquainted her with
his case and enjoined her to secrecy, whereof she consented unto
him, saying, "What shall be the recompense of whoso goeth with
thy letter and bringeth thee an answer thereto?" He bowed his
head for shamefastness before her [and was silent]; and she said
to him, "Raise thy head and give me thy letter." So he gave her
the letter and she took it and carrying it to the princess, said
to her, "Read this letter and give me the answer thereto."

Now the liefest of all things to Mariyeh was the recitation of
poems and verses and linked rhymes and the twanging [of the
strings of the lute], and she was versed in all tongues; so she
took the letter and opening it, read that which was therein and
apprehended its purport. Then she cast it on the ground and said,
"O nurse, I have no answer to make to this letter." Quoth the
nurse, "Indeed, this is weakness in thee and a reproach unto
thee, for that the people of the world have heard of thee and
still praise thee for keenness of wit and apprehension; so do
thou return him an answer, such as shall delude his heart and
weary his soul." "O nurse," rejoined the princess, "who is this
that presumeth upon me with this letter? Belike he is the
stranger youth who gave my father the rubies." "It is himself,"
answered the woman, and Mariyeh said, "I will answer his letter
on such a wise that thou shalt not bring me other than it [from
him]." Quoth the nurse, "So be it." So the princess called for
inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

O'erbold art thou in that to me, a stranger, thou hast sent These
     verses; 'twill but add to thee unease and miscontent.
Now God forbid thou shouldst attain thy wishes! What care I If
     thou have looked on me a look that caused thee languishment?
Who art thou, wretch, that thou shouldst hope to win me? With thy
     rhymes What wouldst of me? Thy reason, sure, with passion is
     forspent.
If to my favours thou aspire and covet me, good lack! What leach
     such madness can assain or what medicament?
Leave rhyming, madman that thou art, lest, bound upon the cross,
     Thou thy presumption in the stead of abjectness repent.
Deem not, O youth, that I to thee incline; indeed, no part Have I
     in those who walk the ways, the children of the tent.[FN#87]
In the wide world no house thou hast, a homeless wanderer thou:
     To thine own place thou shall be borne, an object for
     lament.[FN#88]
Forbear thy verse-making, O thou that harbourest in the camp,
     Lest to the gleemen thou become a name of wonderment.
How many a lover, who aspires to union with his love, For all his
     hopes seem near, is baulked of that whereon he's bent!
Then get thee gone nor covet that which thou shall ne'er obtain;
     So shall it be, although the time seem near and the event.
Thus unto thee have I set forth my case; consider well My words,
     so thou mayst guided be aright by their intent.

When she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and
delivered it to the nurse, who took it and went with it to El
Abbas. When she gave it to him, he took it and breaking it open,
read it and apprehended its purport; and when he came to the end
of it, he swooned away. After awhile, he came to himself and
said, "Praised be God who hath caused her return an answer to my
letter! Canst thou carry her another letter, and with God the
Most High be thy requital?" Quoth she, "And what shall letters
profit thee, seeing she answereth on this wise?" But he said,
"Belike, she may yet be softened." Then he took inkhorn and paper
and wrote the following verses:

Thy letter reached me; when the words thou wrot'st therein I
     read, My longing waxed and pain and woe redoubled on my
     head.
Yea, wonder-words I read therein, my trouble that increased And
     caused emaciation wear my body to a shred.
Would God thou knewst what I endure for love of thee and how My
     vitals for thy cruelty are all forspent and dead!
Fain, fain would I forget thy love. Alack, my heart denies To be
     consoled, and 'gainst thy wrath nought standeth me in stead.
An thou'dst vouchsafe to favour me,'twould lighten my despair,
     Though but in dreams thine image 'twere that visited my bed.
Persist not on my weakliness with thy disdain nor be Treason and
     breach of love its troth to thee attributed;
For know that hither have I fared and come to this thy land, By
     hopes of union with thee and near fruition led.
How oft I've waked, whilst over me my comrades kept the watch!
     How many a stony waste I've crossed, how many a desert
     dread!
From mine own land, to visit thee, I came at love's command, For
     all the distance did forbid,'twixt me and thee that spread.
Wherefore, by Him who letteth waste my frame, have ruth on me And
     quench my yearning and the fires by passion in me fed.
In glory's raiment clad, by thee the stars of heaven are shamed
     And in amaze the full moon stares to see thy goodlihead.
All charms, indeed, thou dost comprise; so who shall vie with
     thee And who shall blame me if for love of such a fair I'm
     sped?

When he had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter and
delivering it to the nurse, charged her keep the secret. So she
took it and carrying it to Mariyeh, gave it to her. The princess
broke it open and read it and apprehended its purport. Then said
she, "By Allah, O nurse, my heart is burdened with an exceeding
chagrin, never knew I a dourer, because of this correspondence
and of these verses." And the muse made answer to her, saying, "O
my lady, thou art in thy dwelling and thy place and thy heart is
void of care; so return him an answer and reck thou not"
Accordingly, the princess called for inkhorn and paper and wrote
the following verses:

Thou that the dupe of yearning art, how many a melting wight In
     waiting for the unkept tryst doth watch the weary night!
If in night's blackness thou hast plunged into the desert's heart
     And hast denied thine eyes the taste of sleep and its
     delight,
If near and far thy toiling feet have trod the ways and thou
     Devils and Marids hast ensued nor wouldst be led aright,
And dar'dst, O dweller in the tents, to lift thine eyes to me,
     Hoping by stress to win of me the amorous delight,
Get thee to patience fair, if thou remember thee of that Whose
     issues (quoth the Merciful) are ever benedight.[FN#89]
How many a king for my sweet sake with other kings hath vied,
     Still craving union with me and suing for my sight!
Whenas En Nebhan strove to win my grace, himself to me With
     camel- loads he did commend of musk and camphor white,
And aloes-wood, to boot, he brought and caskets full of pearls
     And priceless rubies and the like of costly gems and bright;
Yea, and black slaves he proffered me and slave-girls big with
     child And steeds of price, with splendid arms and trappings
     rich bedight.
Raiment of silk and sendal, too, he brought to us for gift, And
     me in marriage sought therewith; yet, all his pains despite,
Of me he got not what he sought and brideless did return, For
     that estrangement and disdain were pleasing in my sight.
Wherefore, O stranger, dare thou not approach me with desire,
     Lest ruin quick and pitiless thy hardihood requite.

When she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and
delivered it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to El
Abbas. He broke it open and read it and apprehended its purport;
then took inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

Indeed, thou'st told the tale of kings and men of might, Each one
     a lion fierce, impetuous in the fight,
Whose wits (like mine, alack!) thou stalest and whose hearts With
     shafts from out thine eyes bewitching thou didst smite.
Yea, and how slaves and steeds and good and virgin girls Were
     proffered thee to gift, thou hast not failed to cite,
How presents in great store thou didst refuse and eke The givers,
     great and small, with flouting didst requite.
Then came I after them, desiring thee, with me No second save my
     sword, my falchion keen and bright.
No slaves with me have I nor camels swift of foot, Nor
     slave-girls have I brought in curtained litters dight.
Yet, an thou wilt vouchsafe thy favours unto me, My sabre thou
     shalt see the foemen put to flight;
Ay, and around Baghdad the horsemen shalt behold, Like clouds
     that wall the world, full many a doughty knight,
All hearkening to my word, obeying my command, In whatsoever
     thing is pleasing to my sight.
If slaves thou fain wouldst have by thousands every day Or,
     kneeling at thy feet, see kings of mickle might,
And horses eke wouldst have led to thee day by day And girls,
     high- breasted maids, and damsels black and white,
Lo under my command the land of Yemen is And trenchant is my
     sword against the foe in fight.
Whenas the couriers came with news of thee, how fair Thou wast
     and sweet and how thy visage shone with light,
All, all, for thy sweet sake, I left; ay, I forsook Aziz, my
     sire, and those akin to me that hight
And unto Irak fared, my way to thee to make, And crossed the
     stony wastes i' the darkness of the night.
Then sent I speech to thee in verses such as burn The heart;
     reproach therein was none nor yet unright;
Yet with perfidiousness (sure Fortune's self as thou Ne'er so
     perfidious was) my love thou didst requite
And deemedst me a waif, a homeless good-for-nought, A
     slave-begotten brat, a wanton, witless wight.

Then he folded the letter and committed it to the nurse and gave
her five hundred dinars, saying, "Accept this from me, for that
indeed thou hast wearied thyself between us." "By Allah, O my
lord," answered she, "my desire is to bring about union between
you, though I lose that which my right hand possesseth." And he
said, "May God the Most High requite thee with good!" Then she
carried the letter to Mariyeh and said to her, "Take this letter;
belike it may be the end of the correspondence." So she took it
and breaking it open, read it, and when she had made an end of
it, she turned to the nurse and said to her, "This fellow putteth
off lies upon me and avoucheth unto me that he hath cities and
horsemen and footmen at his command and submitting to his
allegiance; and he seeketh of me that which he shall not obtain;
for thou knowest, O nurse, that kings' sons have sought me in
marriage, with presents and rarities; but I have paid no heed
unto aught of this; so how shall I accept of this fellow, who is
the fool[FN#90] of his time and possesseth nought but two caskets
of rubies, which he gave to my father, and indeed he hath taken
up his abode in the house of El Ghitrif and abideth without
silver or gold? Wherefore, I conjure thee by Allah, O nurse,
return to him and cut off his hope of me."

Accordingly the nurse returned to El Abbas, without letter or
answer; and when she came in to him, he saw that she was troubled
and noted the marks of chagrin on her face; so he said to her,
"What is this plight?" Quoth she, "I cannot set out to thee that
which Mariyeh said; for indeed she charged me return to thee
without letter or answer." "O nurse of kings," rejoined El Abbas,
"I would have thee carry her this letter and return not to her
without it." Then he took inkhorn and paper and wrote the
following verses:

My secret is disclosed, the which I strove to hide; Of thee and
     of thy love enough have I abyed.
My kinsmen and my friends for thee I did forsake And left them
     weeping tears that poured as 'twere a tide.
Yea, to Baghdad I came, where rigour gave me chase And I was
     overthrown of cruelty and pride.
Repression's draught, by cups, from the beloved's hand I've
     quaffed; with colocynth for wine she hath me plied.
Oft as I strove to make her keep the troth of love, Unto
     concealment's ways still would she turn aside.
My body is dissolved with sufferance in vain; Relenting, ay, and
     grace I hoped should yet betide;
But rigour still hath waxed on me and changed my case And love
     hath left me bound, afflicted, weeping-eyed.
How long shall I anights distracted be for love Of thee? How long
     th' assaults of grief and woes abide?
Thou, thou enjoy'st repose and comfortable sleep, Nor of the
     mis'ries reckst by which my heart is wried.
I watch the stars for wake and pray that the belov'd May yet to
     me relent and bid my tears be dried.
The pains of long desire have wasted me away; Estrangement and
     disdain my body sore have tried.
"Be thou not hard of heart," quoth I. Had ye but deigned To visit
     me in dreams, I had been satisfied.
But when ye saw my writ, the standard ye o'erthrew Of faith, your
     favours grudged and aught of grace denied.
Nay, though ye read therein discourse that sure should speak To
     heart and soul, no word thereunto ye replied,
But deemed yourself secure from every changing chance Nor recked
     the ebb and flow of Fortune's treacherous tide.
Were my affliction thine, love's anguish hadst thou dreed And in
     the flaming hell of long estrangement sighed.
Yet shall thou suffer that which I from thee have borne And with
     love's woes thy heart shall yet be mortified.
The bitterness of false accusing shall thou taste And eke the
     thing reveal that thou art fain to hide;
Yea, he thou lov'st shall be hard-hearted, recking not Of
     fortune's turns or fate's caprices, in his pride.
Wherewith farewell, quoth I, and peace be on thee aye, What while
     the branches bend, what while the stars abide.

When he had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter and
gave it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to Mariyeh. When
she came into the princess's presence, she saluted her; but
Mariyeh returned not her salutation and she said, "O my lady, how
hard is thy heart that thou grudgest to return the salutation!
Take this letter, for that it is the last of that which shall
come to thee from him." Quoth Mariyeh, "Take my warning and never
again enter my palace, or it will be the cause of thy
destruction; for I am certified that thou purposest my dishonour.
So get thee gone from me." And she commanded to beat the nurse;
whereupon the latter went forth fleeing from her presence,
changed of colour and absent of wits, and gave not over going
till she came to the house of El Abbas.

When the prince saw her in this plight, he was as a sleeper
awakened and said to her, "What hath befallen thee? Set out to me
thy case." "God on thee," answered she, "nevermore send me to
Mariyeh, and do thou protect me, so may God protect thee from the
fires of hell!" Then she related to him that which had bedded her
with Mariyeh; which when he heard, there took him the
shamefastness of the generous and this was grievous unto him. The
love of Mariyeh fled forth of his heart and he said to the nurse,
"How much hadst thou of Mariyeh every month?" "Ten dinars,"
answered she, and he said, "Be not concerned." Then he put his
hand to his poke and bringing out two hundred dinars, gave them
to her and said, "Take this for a whole year's wage and turn not
again to serve any one. When the year is out, I will give thee
two years' wage, for that thou hast wearied thyself with us and
on account of the cutting off of thy dependence upon Mariyeh."

Moreover, he gave her a complete suit of clothes and raising his
head to her, said, "When thou toldest me that which Mariyeh had
done with thee, God rooted out the love of her from my heart, and
never again will she occur to my mind; so extolled be the
perfection of Him who turneth hearts and eyes! It was she who was
the cause of my coming out from Yemen, and now the time is past
for which I engaged with my people and I fear lest my father levy
his troops and come forth in quest of me, for that he hath no
child other than myself and cannot brook to be parted from me;
and on like wise is it with my mother." When the nurse heard his
words, she said to him, "O my lord, and which of the kings is thy
father?" "My father is El Aziz, lord of Yemen and Nubia and the
Islands[FN#91] of the Benou Kehtan and the Two Noble
Sanctuaries[FN#92] (God the Most High have them in His
keeping!)," answered El Abbas; "and whenas he taketh horse, there
mount with him an hundred and twenty and four thousand horsemen,
all smiters with the sword, let alone attendants and servants and
followers, all of whom give ear unto my word and obey my
commandment." "Why, then, O my lord," asked the nurse, "didst
thou conceal the secret of thy rank and lineage and passedst
thyself off for a wayfarer? Alas for our disgrace before thee by
reason of our shortcoming in rendering thee thy due! What shall
be our excuse with thee, and thou of the sons of the kings?" But
he rejoined, "By Allah, thou hast not fallen short! Nay, it is
incumbent on me to requite thee, what while I live, though I be
far distant from thee."

Then he called his servant Aamir and said to him, "Saddle the
horses." When the nurse heard his words and indeed [she saw that]
Aamir brought him the horses and they were resolved upon
departure, the tears ran down upon her cheeks and she said to
him, "By Allah, thy separation is grievous to me, O solace of the
eye!" Then said she, "Where is the goal of thine intent, so we
may know thy news and solace ourselves with thy report?" Quoth
he, "I go hence to visit Akil, the son of my father's brother,
for that he hath his sojourn in the camp of Kundeh ben Hisham,
and these twenty years have I not seen him nor he me; wherefore I
purpose to repair to him and discover his news and return hither.
Then will I go hence to Yemen, if it be the will of God the Most
High."

So saying, he took leave of the woman and her husband and set
out, intending for Akil, his father's brother's son. Now there
was between Baghdad and Akil's abiding-place forty days' journey;
so El Abbas settled himself on the back of his courser and his
servant Aamir mounted also and they fared forth on their way.
Presently, El Abbas turned right and left and recited the
following verses:

I am the champion-slayer, the warrior without peer; My foes I
     slay, destroying the hosts, when I appear.
Tow'rds El Akil my journey I take; to visit him, The wastes in
     praise and safety I traverse, without fear,
And all the desert spaces devour, whilst to my rede, Or if in
     sport or earnest,[FN#93] still Aamir giveth ear.
Who letteth us or hind'reth our way, I spring on him, As
     springeth lynx or panther upon the frighted deer;
With ruin I o'erwhelm him and abjectness and woe And cause him
     quaff the goblet of death and distance drear.
Well-ground my polished sword is and thin and keen of edge And
     trenchant, eke, for smiting and long my steel-barbed spear.
So fell and fierce my stroke is, if on a mountain high It lit,
     though all of granite, right through its midst 'twould
     shear.
Nor troops have I nor henchmen nor one to lend me aid Save God,
     to whom, my Maker, my voice in praise I rear.
'Tis He who pardoneth errors alike to slave and free; On Him is
     my reliance in good and evil cheer.

Then they fell to journeying night and day, and as they went,
behold, they sighted a camp of the camps of the Arabs. So El
Abbas enquired thereof and was told that it was the camp of the
Benou Zuhreh. Now there were around them sheep and cattle, such
as filled the earth, and they were enemies to El Akil, the cousin
of El Abbas, upon whom they still made raids and took his cattle;
wherefore he used to pay them tribute every year, for that he
availed not to cope with them. When El Abbas came near the camp,
he dismounted from his courser and his servant Aamir also
dismounted; and they set down the victual and ate their
sufficiency and rested awhile of the day. Then said the prince to
Aamir, "Fetch water and give the horses to drink and draw water
for us in thy water-bag, by way of provision for the road."

So Aamir took the water-skin and made for the water; but, when he
came to the well, behold, two young men with gazelles, and when
they saw him, they said to him, "Whither wilt thou, O youth, and
of which of the Arabs art thou?" "Harkye, lads," answered he,
"fill me my water-skin, for that I am a stranger man and a
wayfarer and I have a comrade who awaiteth me." Quoth they, "Thou
art no wayfarer, but a spy from El Akil's camp." Then they took
him and carried him to [their king] Zuheir ben Shebib; and when
he came before him, he said to him, "Of which of the Arabs art
thou?" Quoth Aamir, "I am a wayfarer." And Zuheir said, "Whence
comest thou and whither wilt thou?" "I am on my way to Akil,"
answered Aamir. When he named Akil, those who were present were
agitated; but Zuheir signed to them with his eyes and said to
him, "What is thine errand with Akil?" Quoth he, "We would fain
see him, my friend and I."

When Zuheir heard his words, he bade smite off his head; but his
Vizier said to him, "Slay him not, till his friend be present."
So he commanded the two slaves to fetch his friend; whereupon
they repaired to El Abbas and called to him, saying, "O youth,
answer the summons of King Zuheir." "What would the king with
me?" asked he, and they answered, "We know not." Quoth he, "Who
gave the king news of me?" "We went to draw water," answered
they, "and found a man by the water. So we questioned him of his
case, but he would not acquaint us therewith; wherefore we
carried him perforce to King Zuheir, who questioned him of his
case and he told him that he was going to Akil. Now Akil is the
king's enemy and he purposeth to betake himself to his camp and
make prize of his offspring and cut off his traces." "And what,"
asked El Abbas, "hath Akil done with King Zuheir?" And they
replied, "He engaged for himself that he would bring the king
every year a thousand dinars and a thousand she-camels, besides a
thousand head of thoroughbred horses and two hundred black slaves
and fifty slave-girls; but it hath reached the king that Akil
purposeth to give nought of this; wherefore he is minded to go to
him. So hasten thou with us, ere the king be wroth with thee and
with us."

Then said El Abbas to them, "O youths, sit by my arms and my
horse till I return." But they answered, saying, "By Allah, thou
prolongest discourse with that which beseemeth not of words! Make
haste, or we will go with thy head, for indeed the king purposeth
to slay thee and to slay thy comrade and take that which is with
you." When the prince heard this, his skin quaked and he cried
out at them with a cry that made them tremble. Then he sprang
upon his horse and settling himself in the saddle, galloped till
he came to the king's assembly, when he cried out at the top of
his voice, saying ["To horse,] cavaliers!" And levelled his spear
at the pavilion wherein was Zuheir. Now there were about him a
thousand smiters with the sword; but El Abbas fell in upon them
and dispersed them from around him, and there abode none in the
tent save Zuheir and his vizier.

Then came up El Abbas to the door of the tent, and therein were
four-and-twenty golden doves; so he took them, after he had
beaten them down with the end of his lance. Then he called out,
saying, "Harkye, Zuheir! Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast
quelled El Akil's repute, but thou art minded to quell that of
those who sojourn round about him? Knowest thou not that he is of
the lieutenants of Kundeh ben [Hisham of the Benou] Sheiban, a
man renowned for prowess? Indeed, covetise of him hath entered
into thee and jealousy of him hath gotten possession of thee.
Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast orphaned his
children[FN#94] and slain his men? By the virtue of the Chosen
Prophet, I will make thee drink the cup of death!" So saying, he
drew his sword and smiting Zuheir on his shoulder, caused the
steel issue, gleaming, from the tendons of his throat. Then he
smote the vizier and clove his head in sunder.

As he was thus, behold, Aamir called out to him and said, "O my
lord, come to my help, or I am a dead man!" So El Abbas went up
to him and found him cast down on his back and chained with four
chains to four pickets of iron. He loosed his bonds and said to
him, "Go before me, O Aamir." So he fared on before him a little,
and presently they looked, and behold, horsemen making to
Zuheir's succour, to wit, twelve thousand cavaliers, with Sehl
ben Kaab in their van, mounted upon a jet-black steed. He charged
upon Aamir, who fled from him, then upon El Abbas, who said, "O
Aamir, cleave fast to my horse and guard my back." Aamir did as
he bade him, whereupon El Abbas cried out at the folk and falling
upon them, overthrew their braves and slew of them nigh two
thousand cavaliers, whilst not one of them knew what was to do
nor with whom he fought. Then said one of them to other, "Verily,
the king is slain; so with whom do we wage war? Indeed ye flee
from him; so do ye enter under his banners, or not one of you
will be saved."

Thereupon they all dismounted and putting off that which was upon
them of harness of war, came before El Abbas and tendered him
allegiance and sued for his protection. So he held his hand from
them and bade them gather together the spoils. Then he took the
riches and the slaves and the camels, and they all became his
liege-men and his retainers, to the number (according to that
which is said) of fifty thousand horse. Moreover, the folk heard
of him and flocked to him from all sides; whereupon he divided
[the spoil amongst them] and gave gifts and abode thus three
days, and there came presents to him. Then he bade set out for
Akil's abiding-place; so they fared on six days and on the
seventh day they came in sight of the camp. El Abbas bade his man
Aamir forego him and give Akil the glad news of his cousin's
coming. So he rode on to the camp and going in to Akil, gave him
the glad news of Zuheir's slaughter and the conquest of his
tribe.

Akil rejoiced in the coming of El Abbas and the slaughter of his
enemy and all in his camp rejoiced also and cast dresses of
honour upon Aamir. Moreover, Akil bade go forth to meet El Abbas,
and commanded that none, great or small, freeman or slave, should
tarry behind. So they did his bidding and going forth all, met El
Abbas at three parasangs' distance from the camp. When they met
him, they all dismounted from their horses and Akil and he
embraced and clapped hands.[FN#95] Then they returned, rejoicing
in the coming of El Abbas and the slaughter of their enemy, to
the camp, where tents were pitched for the new-comers and carpets
spread and game killed and beasts slaughtered and royal
guest-meals spread; and on this wise they abode twenty days, in
the enjoyment of all delight and solace of life.

To return to King El Aziz. When his son El Abbas left him, he was
desolated for him with an exceeding desolation, he and his
mother; and when tidings of him tarried long and the appointed
time passed [and the prince returned not], the king caused public
proclamation to be made, commanding all his troops to make ready
to mount and go forth in quest of his son El Abbas at the end of
three days, after which time no cause of hindrance nor excuse
should be admitted unto any. So on the fourth day, the king bade
number the troops, and behold, they were four-and-twenty thousand
horse, besides servants and followers. Accordingly, they reared
the standards and the drums beat to departure and the king set
out [with his army], intending for Baghdad; nor did he cease to
fare on with all diligence, till he came within half a day's
journey of the city and bade his troops encamp in [a place there
called] the Green Meadow. So they pitched the tents there, till
the country was straitened with them, and set up for the king a
pavilion of green brocade, broidered with pearls and jewels.

When El Aziz had sat awhile, he summoned the mamelukes of his son
El Abbas, and they were five-and-twenty in number, besides half a
score slave-girls, as they were moons, five of whom the king had
brought with him and other five he had left with the prince's
mother. When the mamelukes came before him, he cast over each of
them a mantle of green brocade and bade them mount like horses of
one and the same fashion and enter Baghdad and enquire concerning
their lord El Abbas. So they entered the city and passed through
the [streets and] markets, and there abode in Baghdad nor old man
nor boy but came forth to gaze on them and divert himself with
the sight of their beauty and grace and the goodliness of their
aspect and of their clothes and horses, for that they were even
as moons. They gave not over going till they came to the royal
palace, where they halted, and the king looked at them and seeing
their beauty and the goodliness of their apparel and the
brightness of their faces, said, "Would I knew of which of the
tribes these are!" And he bade the eunuch bring him news of them.

So he went out to them and questioned them of their case,
whereupon, "Return to thy lord," answered they, "and question him
of Prince El Abbas, if he have come unto him, for that he left
his father King El Aziz a full-told year agone, and indeed
longing for him troubleth the king and he hath levied a part of
his army and his guards and is come forth in quest of his son, so
haply he may light upon tidings of him." Quoth the eunuch, "Is
there amongst you a brother of his or a son?" "Nay, by Allah!"
answered they. "But we are all his mamelukes and the boughten of
his money, and his father El Aziz hath despatched us to make
enquiry of him. So go thou to thy lord and question him of the
prince and return to us with that which he shall answer you."
"And where is King El Aziz?" asked the eunuch; and they replied,
"He is encamped in the Green Meadow."[FN#96]

The eunuch returned and told the king, who said, "Indeed, we have
been neglectful with regard to El Abbas. What shall be our excuse
with the king? By Allah, my soul misdoubted me that the youth was
of the sons of the kings!" The Lady Afifeh, his wife, saw him
lamenting for [his usage of] El Abbas and said to him, "O king,
what is it thou regrettest with this exceeding regret?" Quoth he,
"Thou knowest the stranger youth, who gave us the rubies?"
"Assuredly," answered she; and he said, "Yonder youths, who have
halted in the palace court, are his mamelukes, and his father
King El Aziz, lord of Yemen, hath pitched his camp in the Green
Meadow; for he is come with his army to seek him, and the number
of his troops is [four-and-] twenty thousand men." [Then he went
out from her], and when she heard his words, she wept sore for
him and had compassion on his case and sent after him,
counselling him to send for the mamelukes and lodge them [in the
palace] and entertain them.

The king gave ear to her counsel and despatching the eunuch for
the mamelukes, assigned them a lodging and said to them, "Have
patience, till the king give you tidings of your lord El Abbas."
When they heard his words, their eyes ran over with plenteous
tears, of their much longing for the sight of their lord. Then
the king bade the queen enter the privy chamber[FN#97] and let
down the curtain[FN#98] [before the door thereof]. So she did
this and he summoned them to his presence. When they stood before
him, they kissed the earth, to do him worship, and showed forth
their breeding[FN#99] and magnified his dignity. He bade them
sit, but they refused, till he conjured them by their lord El
Abbas. So they sat down and he caused set before them food of
various kinds and fruits and sweetmeats. Now within the Lady
Afifeh's palace was an underground way communicating with the
palace of the princess Mariyeh. So the queen sent after her and
she came to her, whereupon she made her stand behind the curtain
and gave her to know that El Abbas was the king's son of Yemen
and that these were his mamelukes. Moreover, she told her that
the prince's father had levied his troops and was come with his
army in quest of him and that he had pitched his camp in the
Green Meadow and despatched these mamelukes to make enquiry of
their lord. So Mariyeh abode looking upon them and upon their
beauty and grace and the goodliness of their apparel, till they
had eaten their fill of food and the tables were removed;
whereupon the king recounted to them the story of El Abbas and
they took leave of him and went away.

As for the princess Mariyeh, when she returned to her palace, she
bethought herself concerning the affair of El Abbas, repenting
her of that which she had done, and the love of him took root in
her heart. So, when the night darkened upon her, she dismissed
all her women and bringing out the letters, to wit, those which
El Abbas had written, fell to reading them and weeping. She gave
not over weeping her night long, and when she arose in the
morning, she called a damsel of her slave-girls, Shefikeh by
name, and said to her, "O damsel, I purpose to discover to thee
mine affair, and I charge thee keep my secret; to wit, I would
have thee betake thyself to the house of the nurse, who used to
serve me, and fetch her to me, for that I have grave occasion for
her."

Accordingly, Shefikeh went out and repairing to the nurse's
house, found her clad in apparel other[FN#100] than that which
she had been wont to wear aforetime. So she saluted her and said
to her, "Whence hadst thou this dress, than which there is no
goodlier?" "O Shefikeh," answered the nurse, "thou deemest that I
have gotten[FN#101] no good save of thy mistress; but, by Allah,
had I endeavoured for her destruction, I had done [that which was
my right], for that she did with me what thou knowest[FN#102] and
bade the eunuch beat me, without offence of me committed;
wherefore do thou tell her that he, on whose behalf I bestirred
myself with her, hath made me quit of her and her humours, for
that he hath clad me in this habit and given me two hundred and
fifty dinars and promised me the like thereof every year and
charged me serve none of the folk."

Quoth Shefikeh, "My mistress hath occasion for thee; so come thou
with me and I will engage to restore thee to thy dwelling in weal
and safety." But the nurse answered, saying, "Indeed, her palace
is become forbidden[FN#103] to me and never again will I enter
therein, for that God (extolled be His perfection and exalted be
He!) of His favour and bounty hath rendered me independent of
her." So Shefikeh returned to her mistress and acquainted her
with the nurse's words and that wherein she was of affluence;
whereupon Mariyeh confessed the unseemliness of her dealing with
her and repented, whenas repentance profited her not; and she
abode in that her case days and nights, whilst the fire of
longing flamed in her heart.

Meanwhile, El Abbas abode with his cousin Akil twenty days, after
which he made ready for the journey to Baghdad and letting bring
the booty he had gotten of King Zuheir, divided it between
himself and his cousin. Then he set out for Baghdad, and when he
came within two days' journey of the city, he called his servant
Aamir and bade him mount his charger and forego him with the
baggage-train and the cattle. So Aamir [took horse and] fared on
till he came to Baghdad, and the season of his entering was the
first of the day; nor was there little child or hoary old man in
the city but came forth to divert himself with gazing on those
flocks and herds and upon the goodliness of those slave-girls,
and their wits were amazed at what they saw. Presently the news
reached the king that the young man El Abbas, who had gone forth
from him, was come back with herds and rarities and slaves and a
mighty host and had taken up his sojourn without the city, whilst
his servant Aamir was presently come to Baghdad, so he might make
ready dwelling- places for his lord, wherein he should take up
his abode.

When the king heard these tidings of Aamir, he sent for him and
let bring him before him; and when he entered his presence, he
kissed the earth and saluted and showed forth his breeding and
greeted him with the goodliest of compliments. The king bade him
raise his head and questioned him of his lord El Abbas; whereupon
he acquainted him with his tidings and told him that which had
betided him with King Zuheir and of the army that was become at
his commandment and of the spoil that he had gotten. Moreover, he
gave him to know that El Abbas was coming on the morrow, and with
him more than fifty thousand cavaliers, obedient to his
commandment. When the king heard his speech, he bade decorate
Baghdad and commanded [the inhabitants] to equip themselves with
the richest of their apparel, in honour of the coming of El
Abbas. Moreover, he sent to give King El Aziz the glad tidings of
his son's return and acquainted him with that which he had heard
from the prince's servant.

When the news reached El Aziz, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy
in the coming of his son and straightway took horse, he and all
his army, what while the trumpets sounded and the musicians
played, that the earth quaked and Baghdad also trembled, and it
was a notable day. When Mariyeh beheld all this, she repented
with the uttermost of repentance of that which she had wroughten
against El Abbas his due and the fires still raged in her vitals.
Meanwhile, the troops[FN#104] sallied forth of Baghdad and went
out to meet those of El Abbas, who had halted in a meadow called
the Green Island. When he espied the approaching host, he knew
not what they were; so he strained his sight and seeing horsemen
coming and troops and footmen, said to those about him, "Among
yonder troops are ensigns and banners of various kinds; but, as
for the great green standard that ye see, it is the standard of
my father, the which is reserved [unto him and never displayed
save] over his head, and [by this] I know that he himself is come
out in quest of me." And he was certified of this, he and his
troops.

[So he fared on towards them] and when he drew near unto them, he
knew them and they knew him; whereupon they lighted down from
their horses and saluting him, gave him joy of his safety and the
folk flocked to him. When he came to his father, they embraced
and greeted each other a long time, whilst neither of them
availed unto speech, for the greatness of that which betided them
of joy in reunion. Then El Abbas bade the folk mount; so they
mounted and his mamelukes surrounded him and they entered Baghdad
on the most magnificent wise and in the highest worship and
glory.

The wife of the shopkeeper, to wit, the nurse, came out, with the
rest of those who came out, to divert herself with gazing upon
the show, and when she saw El Abbas and beheld his beauty and the
goodliness of his army and that which he had brought back with
him of herds and slaves and slave-girls and mamelukes, she
improvised and recited the following verses:

El Abbas from Akil his stead is come again; Prize hath he made of
     steeds and many a baggage-train;
Yea, horses hath he brought, full fair of shape and hue, Whose
     collars, anklet-like, ring to the bridle-rein.
Taper of hoofs and straight of stature, in the dust They prance,
     as like a flood they pour across the plain;
And on their saddles perched are warriors richly clad, That with
     their hands do smite on kettle-drums amain.
Couched are their limber spears, right long and lithe of point,
     Keen- ground and polished sheer, amazing wit and brain.
Who dares with them to cope draws death upon himself; Yea, of the
     deadly lance incontinent he's slain.
Come, then, companions mine, rejoice with me and say, "All hail
     to thee, O friend, and welcome fair and fain!"
For whoso doth rejoice in meeting him shall have Largesse and
     gifts galore at his dismounting gain.

When the troops entered Baghdad, each of them alighted in his
pavilion, whilst El Abbas encamped apart in a place near the
Tigris and commanded to slaughter for the troops, each day, that
which should suffice them of oxen and sheep and bake them bread
and spread the tables. So the folk ceased not to come to him and
eat of his banquet. Moreover, all the people of the country came
to him with presents and rarities and he requited them many times
the like of their gifts, so that the lands were filled with his
tidings and the report of him was bruited abroad among the folk
of the deserts and the cities.

Then, when he rode to his house that he had bought, the
shopkeeper and his wife came to him and gave him joy of his
safety; whereupon he ordered them three swift thoroughbred horses
and ten dromedaries and an hundred head of sheep and clad them
both in sumptuous dresses of honour. Then he chose out ten
slave-girls and ten black slaves and fifty horses and the like
number of she- camels and three hundred head of sheep, together
with twenty ounces of musk and as many of camphor, and sent all
this to the King of Baghdad. When this came to Ins ben Cais, his
wit fled for joy and he was perplexed wherewithal to requite him.
Moreover, El Abbas gave gifts and largesse and bestowed dresses
of honour upon great and small, each after the measure of his
station, save only Mariyeh; for unto her he sent nothing.

This was grievous to the princess and it irked her sore that he
should not remember her; so she called her slave- girl Shefikeh
and said to her, "Go to El Abbas and salute him and say to him,
'What hindereth thee from sending my lady Mariyeh her part of thy
booty?'" So Shefikeh betook herself to him and when she came to
his door, the chamberlains refused her admission, until they
should have gotten her leave and permission. When she entered, El
Abbas knew her and knew that she had somewhat of speech [with
him]; so he dismissed his mamelukes and said to her, "What is
thine errand, O handmaid of good?" "O my lord," answered she, "I
am a slave-girl of the Princess Mariyeh, who kisseth thy hands
and commendeth her salutation to thee. Indeed, she rejoiceth in
thy safety and reproacheth thee for that thou breakest her heart,
alone of all the folk, for that thy largesse embraceth great and
small, yet hast thou not remembered her with aught of thy booty.
Indeed, it is as if thou hadst hardened thy heart against her."
Quoth he, "Extolled be the perfection of him who turneth hearts!
By Allah, my vitals were consumed with the love of her
[aforetime] and of my longing after her, I came forth to her from
my native land and left my people and my home and my wealth, and
it was with her that began the hardheartedness and the cruelty.
Nevertheless, for all this, I bear her no malice and needs must I
send her somewhat whereby she may remember me; for that I abide
in her land but a few days, after which I set out for the land of
Yemen."

Then he called for a chest and bringing out thence a necklace of
Greek handiwork, worth a thousand dinars, wrapped it in a mantle
of green silk, set with pearls and jewels and inwrought with red
gold, and joined thereto two caskets of musk and ambergris.
Moreover, he put off upon the girl a mantle of Greek silk,
striped with gold, wherein were divers figures and semblants
depictured, never saw eyes its like. Therewithal the girl's wit
fled for joy and she went forth from his presence and returned to
her mistress. When she came in to her, she acquainted her with
that which she had seen of El Abbas and that which was with him
of servants and attendants and [set out to her] the loftiness of
his station and gave her that which was with her.

Mariyeh opened the mantle, and when she saw that necklace, and
indeed the place was illumined with the lustre thereof, she
looked at her slave-girl and said to her, "By Allah, O Shefikeh,
one look at him were liefer to me than all that my hand
possesseth! Would I knew what I shall do, whenas Baghdad is empty
of him and I hear no tidings of him!" Then she wept and calling
for inkhorn* and paper and pen of brass, wrote the following
verses:

Still do I yearn, whilst passion's fire flames in my liver aye;
     For parting's shafts have smitten me and done my strength
     away.
Oft for thy love as I would be consoled, my yearning turns
     To-thee- ward still and my desires my reason still gainsay.
My transports I conceal for fear of those thereon that spy; Yet
     down my cheeks the tears course still and still my case
     bewray.
No rest is there for me, no life wherein I may delight, Nor
     pleasant meat nor drink avails to please me, night or day.
To whom save thee shall I complain, of whom relief implore, Whose
     image came to visit me, what while in dreams I lay?
Reproach me not for what I did, but be thou kind to one Who's
     sick of body and whose heart is wasted all away.
The fire of love-longing I hide; severance consumeth me, A thrall
     of care, for long desire to wakefulness a prey.
Midmost the watches of the night I see thee, in a dream; A lying
     dream, for he I love my love doth not repay.
Would God thou knewest that for love of thee which I endure! It
     hath indeed brought down on me estrangement and dismay.
Read thou my writ and apprehend its purport, for my case This is
     and fate hath stricken me with sorrows past allay.
Know, then, the woes that have befall'n a lover, neither grudge
     Her secret to conceal, but keep her counsel still, I pray.

Then she folded the letter and giving it to her slave-girl, bade
her carry it to El Abbas and bring back his answer thereto.
Accordingly, Shefikeh took the letter and carried it to the
prince, after the doorkeeper had sought leave of him to admit
her. When she came in to him, she found with him five damsels, as
they were moons, clad in [rich] apparel and ornaments; and when
he saw her, he said to her, "What is thine occasion, O handmaid
of good?" So she put out her hand to him with the letter, after
she had kissed it, and he bade one of his slave-girls receive it
from her. Then he took it from the girl and breaking it open,
read it and apprehended its purport; whereupon "We are God's and
to Him we return!" exclaimed he and calling for ink- horn and
paper, wrote the following verses:

I marvel for that to my love I see thee now incline, What time my
     heart, indeed, is fain to turn away from thine.
Whilere, the verses that I made it was thy wont to flout, Saying,
     "No passer by the way[FN#105] hath part in me or mine.
How many a king to me hath come, of troops and guards ensued, And
     Bactrian camels brought with him, in many a laden line,
And dromedaries, too, of price and goodly steeds and swift Of
     many a noble breed, yet found no favour in my eyne!"
Then, after them came I to thee and union did entreat And unto
     thee set forth at length my case and my design;
Yea, all my passion and desire and love-longing in verse, As
     pearls in goodly order strung it were, I did enshrine.
Yet thou repaidst me with constraint, rigour and perfidy, To
     which no lover might himself on any wise resign.
How many a bidder unto love, a secret-craving wight, How many a
     swain, complaining, saith of destiny malign,
"How many a cup with bitterness o'erflowing have I quaffed! I
     make my moan of woes, whereat it boots not to repine."
Quoth thou, "The goodliest of things is patience and its use: Its
     practice still mankind doth guide to all that's fair and
     fine."
Wherefore fair patience look thou use, for sure 'tis
     praiseworthy; Yea, and its issues evermore are blessed and
     benign;
And hope thou not for aught from me, who reck not with a folk To
     mix, who may with abjectness infect my royal line.
This is my saying; apprehend its purport, then, and know I may in
     no wise yield consent to that thou dost opine.

Then he folded the letter and sealing it, delivered it to the
damsel, who took it and carried it to her mistress. When the
princess read the letter and apprehended its contents, she said,
"Meseemeth he recalleth to me that which I did aforetime." Then
she called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

Me, till I stricken was therewith, to love thou didst excite, And
     with estrangement now, alas! heap'st sorrows on my spright.
The sweet of slumber after thee I have forsworn; indeed The loss
     of thee hath smitten me with trouble and affright.
How long shall I, in weariness, for this estrangement pine, What
     while the spies of severance[FN#106] do watch me all the
     night?
My royal couch have I forsworn, sequestering myself From all, and
     have mine eyes forbid the taste of sleep's delight.
Thou taught'st me what I cannot bear; afflicted sore am I; Yea,
     thou hast wasted me away with rigour and despite.
Yet, I conjure thee, blame me not for passion and desire, Me whom
     estrangement long hath brought to sick and sorry plight.
Sore, sore doth rigour me beset, its onslaughts bring me near
     Unto the straitness of the grave, ere in the shroud I'm
     dight.
So be thou kind to me, for love my body wasteth sore, The thrall
     of passion I'm become its fires consume me quite.

Mariyeh folded the letter and gave it to Shefikeh, bidding her
carry it to El Abbas. So she took it and going with it to his
door, would have entered; but the chamberlains and serving-men
forbade her, till they had gotten her leave from the prince. When
she went in to him, she found him sitting in the midst of the
five damsels aforesaid, whom his father had brought him. So she
gave him the letter and he took it and read it. Then he bade one
of the damsels, whose name was Khefifeh and who came from the
land of China, tune her lute and sing upon the subject of
separation. So she came forward and tuning the lute, played
thereon in four-and-twenty modes; after which she returned to the
first mode and sang the following verses:

Upon the parting day our loves from us did fare And left us to
     endure estrangement and despair.
Whenas the burdens all were bounden on and shrill The
     camel-leader's call rang out across the air,
Fast flowed my tears; despair gat hold upon my soul And needs
     mine eyelids must the sweet of sleep forbear.
I wept, but those who spied to part us had no ruth On me nor on
     the fires that in my vitals flare.
Woe's me for one who burns for love and longing pain! Alas for
     the regrets my heart that rend and tear!
To whom shall I complain of what is in my soul, Now thou art gone
     and I my pillow must forswear?
The flames of long desire wax on me day by day And far away are
     pitched the tent-poles of my fair.
O breeze of heaven, from me a charge I prithee take And do not
     thou betray the troth of my despair;
Whenas thou passest by the dwellings of my love, Greet him for me
     with peace, a greeting debonair,
And scatter musk on him and ambergris, so long As time endures;
     for this is all my wish and care.

When the damsel had made an end of her song, El Abbas swooned
away and they sprinkled on him rose-water, mingled with musk,
till he came to himself, when he called another damsel (now there
was on her of linen and clothes and ornaments that which
beggareth description, and she was endowed with brightness and
loveliness and symmetry and perfection, such as shamed the
crescent moon, and she was a Turkish girl from the land of the
Greeks and her name was Hafizeh) and said to her, "O Hafizeh,
close thine eyes and tune thy lute and sing to us upon the days
of separation." She answered him with "Hearkening and obedience"
and taking the lute, tuned its strings and cried out from her
head,[FN#107] in a plaintive voice, and sang the following
verses:

O friends, the tears flow ever, in mockery of my pain; My heart
     is sick for sev'rance and love-longing in vain.
All wasted is my body and bowels tortured sore; Love's fire on me
     still waxeth, mine eyes with tears still rain.
Whenas the fire of passion flamed in my breast, with tears, Upon
     the day of wailing, to quench it I was fain.
Desire hath left me wasted, afflicted, sore afraid, For the spy
     knows the secret whereof I do complain.
When I recall the season of love-delight with them, The sweet of
     sleep forsakes me, my body wastes amain.
Those who our parting plotted our sev'rance still delights; The
     spies, for fearful prudence, their wish of us attain.
I fear me for my body from sickness and unrest, Lest of the fear
     of sev'rance it be betrayed and slain.

When Hafizeh had made an end of her song, El Abbas said to her,
"Well done! Indeed, thou quickenest hearts from sorrows." Then he
called another damsel of the daughters of the Medes, by name
Merjaneh, and said to her, "O Merjaneh, sing to me upon the days
of separation." "Hearkening and obedience," answered she and
improvising, sang the following verses:

"Fair patience practise, for thereon still followeth content." So
     runs the rede 'mongst all that dwell in city or in tent.
How oft of dole have I made moan for love and longing pain, What
     while my body for desire in mortal peril went!
How oft I've waked, how many a cup of sorrow have I drained,
     Watching the stars of night go by, for sleepless
     languishment!
It had sufficed me, had thy grace with verses come to me; My
     expectation still on thee in the foredawns was bent.
Then was my heart by that which caused my agitation seared, And
     from mine eyelids still the tears poured down without
     relent.
Yea, nevermore I ceased from that wherewith I stricken was; My
     night with wakefulness was filled, my heart with dreariment.
But now hath Allah from my heart blotted the love of thee, After
     for constancy I'd grown a name of wonderment.
Hence on the morrow forth I fare and leave your land behind; So
     take your leave of us nor fear mishap or ill event.
Whenas in body ye from us are far removed, would God I knew who
     shall to us himself with news of you present!
And who can tell if ever house shall us together bring In union
     of life serene and undisturbed content?

When Merjaneh had made an end of her song, the prince said to
her, "Well done, O damsel! Indeed, thou sayest a thing that had
occurred to my mind and my tongue was like to speak it." Then he
signed to the fourth damsel, who was a Cairene, by name Sitt el
Husn, and bade her tune her lute and sing to him upon the [same]
subject. So she tuned her lute and sang the following verses:

Fair patience use, for ease still followeth after stress And all
     things have their time and ordinance no less.
Though Fortune whiles to thee belike may be unjust, Her seasons
     change and man's excused if he transgress.
In her revolving scheme, to bitter sweetness still Succeeds and
     things become straight, after crookedness.
Thine honour, therefore, guard and eke thy secret keep, Nor save
     to one free-born and true thy case confess.
The Lord's alternatives are these, wherewith He's wont The needy
     wretch to ply and those in sore duresse.

When El Abbas heard her verses, they pleased him and he said to
her, "Well done, O Sitt el Husn! Indeed, thou hast done away
trouble from my heart and [banished] the things that had occurred
to my mind." Then he heaved a sigh and signing to the fifth
damsel, who was from the land of the Persians and whose name was
Merziyeh (now she was the fairest of them all and the sweetest of
speech and she was like unto a splendid star, endowed with beauty
and loveliness and brightness and perfection and justness of
shape and symmetry and had a face like the new moon and eyes as
they were gazelle's eyes) and said to her, "O Merziyeh, come
forward and tune thy lute and sing to us on the [same] subject,
for indeed we are resolved upon departure to the land of Yemen."
Now this damsel had met many kings and had consorted with the
great; so she tuned her lute and sang the following verses:

May the place of my session ne'er lack thee I Oh, why, My heart's
     love, hast thou saddened my mind and mine eye?[FN#108]
By thy ransom,[FN#109] who dwellest alone in my heart, In despair
     for the loss of the loved one am I.
So, by Allah, O richest of all men in charms, Vouchsafe to a
     lover, who's bankrupt well-nigh
Of patience, thy whilom endearments again, That I never to any
     divulged, nor deny
The approof of my lord, so my stress and unease I may ban and
     mine enemies' malice defy,
Thine approof which shall clothe me in noblest attire And my rank
     in the eyes of the people raise high.

When she had made an end of her song, all who were in the
assembly wept for the daintiness of her speech and the sweetness
of her voice and El Abbas said to her, "Well done, O Merziyeh I
Indeed, thou confoundest the wits with the goodliness of thy
verses and the elegance of thy speech." All this while Shefikeh
abode gazing upon her, and when she beheld El Abbas his
slave-girls and considered the goodliness of their apparel and
the nimbleness of their wits and the elegance of their speech,
her reason was confounded. Then she sought leave of El Abbas and
returning to her mistress Mariyeh, without letter or answer,
acquainted her with his case and that wherein he was of puissance
and delight and majesty and venerance and loftiness of rank.
Moreover, she told her what she had seen of the slave-girls and
their circumstance and that which they had said and how they had
made El Abbas desireful of returning to his own country by the
recitation of verses to the sound of the strings.

When the princess heard this her slave-girl's report, she wept
and lamented and was like to depart the world. Then she clave to
her pillow and said, "O Shefikeh, I will instruct thee of
somewhat that is not hidden from God the Most High, and it is
that thou watch over me till God the Most High decree the
accomplishment of His commandment, and when my days are ended,
take thou the necklace and the mantle that El Abbas gave me and
return them to him. Indeed, I deem not he will live after me, and
if God the Most High decree against him and his days come to an
end, do thou give one charge to shroud us and bury us both in one
grave."

Then her case changed and her colour paled; and when Shefikeh saw
her mistress in this plight, she repaired to her mother and told
her that the lady Mariyeh refused meat and drink. "Since when
hath this befallen her?" asked the queen, and Shefikeh answered,
"Since yesterday;" whereat the queen was confounded and betaking
herself to her daughter, that she might enquire into her case,
found her as one dead. So she sat down at her head and Mariyeh
opened her eyes and seeing her mother sitting by her, sat up for
shamefastness before her. The queen questioned her of her case
and she said, "I entered the bath and it stupefied me and
weakened me and left an exceeding pain in my head; but I trust in
God the Most High that it will cease."

When her mother went out from her, Mariyeh fell to chiding the
damsel for that which she had done and said to her, "Verily,
death were leifer to me than this; so look thou discover not my
affair to any and I charge thee return not to the like of this
fashion." Then she swooned away and lay awhile without life, and
when she came to herself, she saw Shefikeh weeping over her;
whereupon she took the necklace from her neck and the mantle from
her body and said to the damsel, "Lay them in a napkin of damask
and carry them to El Abbas and acquaint him with that wherein I
am for the persistence of estrangement and the effects of
forbiddance." So Shefikeh took them and carried them to El Abbas,
whom she found in act to depart, for that he was about to take
horse for Yemen. She went in to him and gave him the napkin and
that which was therein, and when he opened it and saw what it
contained, to wit, the mantle and the necklace, his vexation was
excessive and his eyes were distorted, [so that the whites
thereof appeared] and his rage was manifest in them.

When Shefikeh saw that which betided him, she came forward and
said to him, "O bountiful lord, indeed my mistress returneth not
the mantle and the necklace despitefully; but she is about to
depart the world and thou hast the best right to them." "And what
is the cause of this?" asked he. Quoth Shefikeh, "Thou knowest.
By Allah, never among the Arabs nor the barbarians nor among the
sons of the kings saw I a harder of heart than thou! Is it a
light matter to thee that thou troublest Mariyeh's life and
causest her mourn for herself and depart the world on account
of[FN#110] thy youth? Indeed, thou wast the cause of her
acquaintance with thee and now she departeth the world on thine
account, she whose like God the Most High hath not created among
the daughters of the kings."

When El Abbas heard these words from the damsel, his heart irked
him for Mariyeh and her case was grievous to him; so he said to
Shefikeh, "Canst thou avail to bring me in company with her, so
haply I may discover her affair and allay that which aileth her?"
"Yes," answered the damsel, "I can do that, and thine will be the
bounty and the favour." So he arose and followed her, and she
forewent him, till they came to the palace. Then she [opened and]
locked behind them four-and-twenty doors and made them fast with
bolts; and when he came to Mariyeh, he found her as she were the
setting sun, cast down upon a rug of Taifi leather,[FN#111] among
cushions stuffed with ostrich down, and not a limb of her
quivered. When her maid saw her in this plight, she offered to
cry out; but El Abbas said to her, "Do it not, but have patience
till we discover her affair; and if God the Most High have
decreed the ending of her days, wait till thou have opened the
doors to me and I have gone forth. Then do what seemeth good to
thee."

So saying, he went up to the princess and laying his hand upon
her heart, found it fluttering like a doveling and the life yet
clinging to[FN#112] her bosom. So he laid his hand upon her
cheek, whereupon she opened her eyes and beckoning to her maid,
signed to her, as who should say, "Who is this that treadeth my
carpet and transgresseth against me?"[FN#113] "O my lady,"
answered Shefikeh, "this is Prince El Abbas, for whose sake thou
departest the world." When Mariyeh heard speak of El Abbas, she
raised her hand from under the coverlet and laying it upon his
neck, inhaled his odour awhile. Then she sat up and her colour
returned to her and they sat talking till a third part of the
night was past.

Presently, the princess turned to her maid and bade her fetch
them somewhat of food and sweetmeats and dessert and fruits. So
Shefikeh brought what she desired and they ate and drank [and
abode on this wise] without lewdness, till the night departed and
the day came. Then said El Abbas, "Indeed, the day is come. Shall
I go to my father and bid him go to thy father and seek thee of
him in marriage for me, in accordance with the Book of God the
Most High and the Institutes of His Apostle (whom may He bless
and keep!) so we may not enter into transgression?" And Mariyeh
answered, saying, "By Allah, it is well counselled of thee!" So
he went away to his lodging and nought befell between them; and
when the day lightened, she improvised and recited the following
verses:

O friends, the East wind waxes, the morning draweth near; A
     plaintive voice[FN#114] bespeaks me and I rejoice to hear.
Up, to our comrade's convent, that we may visit him And drink of
     wine more subtle than dust;[FN#115] our trusty fere
Hath spent thereon his substance, withouten stint; indeed, In his
     own cloak he wrapped it, he tendered it so dear.[FN#116]
Whenas its jar was opened, the singers prostrate fell In worship
     of its brightness, it shone so wonder-clear.
The priests from all the convent came flocking onto it: With
     cries of joy and welcome their voices they did rear.
We spent the night in passing the cup, my mates and I, Till in
     the Eastward heaven the day-star did appear.
No sin is there in drinking of wine, for it affords All that's
     foretold[FN#117] of union and love and happy cheer.
O morn, our loves that sunder'st, a sweet and easeful life Thou
     dost for me prohibit, with thy regard austere.
Be gracious, so our gladness may be fulfilled with wine And we of
     our beloved have easance, without fear.
The best of all religions your love is, for in you Are love and
     life made easeful, untroubled and sincere.

Meanwhile, El Abbas betook himself to his father's camp, which
was pitched in the Green Meadow, by the side of the Tigris, and
none might make his way between the tents, for the much
interlacement of the tent-ropes. When the prince reached the
first of the tents, the guards and servants came out to meet him
from all sides and escorted him till he drew near the
sitting-place of his father, who knew of his coming. So he issued
forth of his pavilion and coming to meet his son, kissed him and
made much of him. Then they returned together to the royal
pavilion and when they had seated themselves and the guards had
taken up their station in attendance on them, the king said to El
Abbas, "O my son, make ready thine affair, so we may go to our
own land, for that the folk in our absence are become as they
were sheep without a shepherd." El Abbas looked at his father and
wept till he swooned away, and when he recovered from his swoon,
he improvised and recited the following verses:

I clipped her[FN#118] in mine arms and straight grew drunken with
     the scent Of a fresh branch that had been reared in
     affluence and content.
'Twas not of wine that I had drunk; her mouth's sweet honeyed
     dews It was intoxicated me with bliss and ravishment.
Upon the table of her cheek beauty hath writ, "Alack, Her charms!
     'Twere well thou refuge sought'st with God
     incontinent."[FN#119]
Since thou hast looked on her, mine eye, be easy, for by God Nor
     mote nor ailment needst thou fear nor evil accident.
Beauty her appanage is grown in its entirety, And for this cause
     all hearts must bow to her arbitrament.
If with her cheek and lustre thou thyself adorn,[FN#120] thou'lt
     find But chrysolites and gold, with nought of baser metal
     blent.
When love-longing for her sweet sake I took upon myself, The
     railers flocked to me anon, on blame and chiding bent;
But on no wise was I affrayed nor turned from love of her; So let
     the railer rave of her henceforth his heart's content.
By God, forgetfulness of her shall never cross my mind, What
     while I wear the bonds of life nor when of death they're
     rent
An if I live, in love of her I'll live, and if I die Of love and
     longing for her sight, O rare! O excellent!

When El Abbas had made an end of his verses, his father said to
him, "I seek refuge for thee with God, O my son! Hast thou any
want unto which thou availest not, so I may endeavour for thee
therein and lavish my treasures in quest thereof?" "O father
mine," answered El Abbas, "I have, indeed, an urgent want, on
account whereof I came forth of my native land and left my people
and my home and exposed myself to perils and stresses and became
an exile from my country, and I trust in God that it may be
accomplished by thine august endeavour." "And what is thy want?"
asked the king. Quoth El Abbas, "I would have thee go and demand
me in marriage Mariyeh, daughter of the King of Baghdad, for that
my heart is distraught with love of her." And he recounted to his
father his story from first to last.

When the king heard this from his son, he rose to his feet and
calling for his charger of state, took horse with four-and-twenty
amirs of the chief officers of his empire. Then he betook himself
to the palace of the King of Baghdad, who, when he saw him
coming, bade his chamberlains open the doors to him and going
down himself to meet him, received him with all worship and
hospitality and entreated him with the utmost honour. Moreover,
he carried him [and his suite] into the palace and causing make
ready for them carpets and cushions, sat down upon a chair of
gold, with traverses of juniper- wood, set with pearls and
jewels. Then he bade bring sweetmeats and confections and
odoriferous flowers and commanded to slaughter four-and-twenty
head of sheep and the like of oxen and make ready geese and
fowls, stuffed and roasted, and pigeons and spread the tables;
nor was it long before the meats were set on in dishes of gold
and silver. So they ate till they had enough and when they had
eaten their fill, the tables were removed and the wine-service
set on and the cups and flagons ranged in order, whilst the
mamelukes and the fair slave- girls sat down, with girdles of
gold about their middles, inlaid with all manner pearls and
diamonds and emeralds and rubies and other jewels. Moreover, the
king bade fetch the musicians; so there presented themselves
before him a score of damsels, with lutes and psalteries and
rebecks, and smote upon instruments of music, on such wise that
they moved the assembly to delight.

Then said El Aziz to the King of Baghdad, "I would fain speak a
word to thee; but do thou not exclude from us those who are
present. If thou consent unto my wish, that which is ours shall
be thine and that which is incumbent on thee shall be incumbent
on us,[FN#121] and we will be to thee a mighty aid against all
enemies and opposites." Quoth Ins ben Cais, "Say what thou wilt,
O King, for indeed thou excellest in speech and attainest [the
mark] in that which them sayest" So El Aziz said to him," I
desire that thou give thy daughter Mariyeh in marriage to my son
El Abbas, for thou knowest that wherewithal he is gifted of
beauty and loveliness and brightness and perfection and how he
beareth himself in the frequentation of the valiant and his
constancy in the stead of smiting and thrusting." "By Allah, O
king," answered Ins ben Cais, "of my love for Mariyeh, I have
appointed her disposal to be in her own hand; wherefore,
whomsoever she chooseth of the folk, I will marry her to him."

Then he arose and going in to his daughter, found her mother with
her; so he set out to them the case and Mariyeh said, "O father
mine, my wish is subject unto[FN#122] thy commandment and my will
ensueth thy will; so whatsoever thou choosest, I am still
obedient unto thee and under thy dominion." Therewithal the King
knew that Mariyeh inclined unto El Abbas; so he returned
forthright to King El Aziz and said to him, "May God amend the
King! Verily, the occasion is accomplished and there is no
opposition unto that which thou commandest" Quoth El Aziz, "By
God's leave are occasions accomplished. How deemest thou, O King,
of fetching El Abbas and drawing up the contract of marriage
between Mariyeh and him?" And Ins ben Cais answered, saying,
"Thine be it to decide."

So El Aziz sent after his son and acquainted him with that which
had passed; whereupon El Abbas called for four-and-twenty males
and half a score horses [and as many camels] and loaded the mules
with pieces of silk and rags of leather and boxes of camphor and
musk and the camels [and horses] with chests of gold and silver.
Moreover, he took the richest of the stuffs and wrapping them in
pieces of gold-striped silk, laid them on the heads of porters,
and they fared on with the treasures till they reached the King
of Baghdad's palace, whereupon all who were present dismounted in
honour of El Abbas and escorting him to the presence of King Ins
ben Cais, displayed unto the latter all that they had with them
of things of price. The king bade carry all this into the harem
and sent for the Cadis and the witnesses, who drew up the
contract and married Mariyeh to Prince El Abbas, whereupon the
latter commanded to [slaughter] a thousand head of sheep and five
hundred buffaloes. So they made the bride-feast and bade thereto
all the tribes of the Arabs, Bedouins and townsfolk, and the
tables abode spread for the space of ten days.

Then El Abbas went in to Mariyeh in a happy and praiseworthy
hour[FN#123] and found her an unpierced pearl and a goodly filly
that had never been mounted; wherefore he rejoiced and was glad
and made merry, and care and sorrow ceased from him and his life
was pleasant and trouble departed and he abode with her in the
gladsomest of case and in the most easeful of life, till seven
days were past, when King El Aziz determined to set out and
return to his kingdom and bade his son seek leave of his
father-in-law to depart with his wife to his own country. [So El
Abbas bespoke King Ins of this] and he granted him the leave he
sought; whereupon he chose out a red camel, taller[FN#124] than
the [other] camels, and mounting Mariyeh in a litter thereon,
loaded it with apparel and ornaments.

Then they spread the ensigns and the standards, whilst the drums
beat and the trumpets sounded, and set out upon the homeward
journey. The King of Baghdad rode forth with them and brought
them three days' journey on their way, after which he took leave
of them and returned with his troops to Baghdad. As for King El
Aziz and his son, they fared on night and day and gave not over
going till there abode but three days' journey between them and
Yemen, when they despatched three men of the couriers to the
prince's mother [to acquaint her with their return], safe and
laden with spoil, bringing with them Mariyeh, the king's daughter
of Baghdad. When the queen-mother heard this, her wit fled for
joy and she adorned El Abbas his slave-girls after the goodliest
fashion. Now he had ten slave-girls, as they were moons, whereof
his father had carried five with him to Baghdad, as hath
aforetime been set out, and other five abode with his mother.
When the dromedary-posts[FN#125] came, they were certified of the
approach of El Abbas, and when the sun rose and their standards
appeared, the prince's mother came out to meet her son; nor was
there great or small, old man or infant, but went forth that day
to meet the king.

The drums of glad tidings beat and they entered in the utmost of
worship and magnificence. Moreover, the tribes heard of them and
the people of the towns and brought them the richest of presents
and the costliest of rarities and the prince's mother rejoiced
with an exceeding joy. Then they slaughtered beasts and made
mighty bride-feasts to the people and kindled fires, that it
might be visible afar to townsman [and Bedouin] that this was the
house of the guest-meal and the wedding, festival, to the intent
that, if any passed them by, [without partaking of their
hospitality], it should be of his own fault[FN#126] So the folk
came to them from all parts and quarters and on this wise they
abode days and months.

Then the prince's mother bade fetch the five slave-girls to that
assembly; whereupon they came and the ten damsels foregathered.
The queen seated five of them on her son's right hand and other
five on his left and the folk assembled about them. Then she bade
the five who had remained with her speak forth somewhat of verse,
so they might entertain therewith the assembly and that El Abbas
might rejoice therein. Now she had clad them in the richest of
raiment and adorned them with trinkets and ornaments and
wroughten work of gold and silver and collars of gold, set with
pearls and jewels. So they came forward, with harps and lutes and
psalteries and recorders and other instruments of music before
them, and one of them, a damsel who came from the land of China
and whose name was Baoutheh, advanced and tightened the strings
of her lute. Then she cried out from the top of her head[FN#127]
and improvising, sang the following verses:

Unto its pristine lustre your land returned and more, Whenas ye
     came, dispelling the gloom that whiles it wore.
Our stead, that late was desert, grew green and eke our trees,
     That barren were, grew loaded with ripened fruits galore.
Yea, to the earth that languished for lack of rain, the clouds
     Were bounteous; so it flourished and plenteous harvests
     bore;
And troubles, too, forsook us, who tears like dragons' blood, O
     lordings, for your absence had wept at every pore.
Indeed, your long estrangement hath caused my bowels yearn. Would
     God I were a servant in waiting at your door!

When she had made an end of her song, all who were present were
moved to delight and El Abbas rejoiced in this. Then he bade the
second damsel sing somewhat on the like subject. So she came
forward and tuning the strings of her harp, which was of balass
ruby,[FN#128] warbled a plaintive air and improvising, sang the
following verses;

The absent ones' harbinger came us unto With tidings of those
     who[FN#129] had caused us to rue.
"My soul be thy ransom,"quoth I,"for thy grace! Indeed, to the
     oath that thou swor'st thou wast true."
On the dear nights of union, in you was our joy, But afflicted
     were we since ye bade us adieu.
You swore you'd be faithful to us and our love, And true to your
     oath and your troth-plight were you;
And I to you swore that a lover I was; God forbid that with
     treason mine oath I ensue!
Yea, "Welcome! Fair welcome to those who draw near!" I called out
     aloud, as to meet you I flew.
The dwellings, indeed, one and all, I adorned, Bewildered and
     dazed with delight at your view;
For death in your absence to us was decreed; But, when ye came
     back, we were quickened anew.

When she had made an end of her verses, El Abbas bade the third
damsel, who came from Samarcand of the Persians and whose name
was Rummaneh, sing, and she answered with "Hearkening and
obedience." Then she took the psaltery and crying out from the
midst of her bead[FN#130] improvised and sang the following
verses:

My watering lips, that cull the rose of thy soft cheek, declare
     My basil,[FN#131] lily mine, to be the myrtles of thy hair.
Sandhill[FN#132] and down[FN#133] betwixt there blooms a yellow
     willow-flower,[FN#134] Pomegranate-blossoms[FN#135] and for
     fruits pomegranates[FN#136] that doth bear.
His eyelids' sorcery from mine eyes hath banished sleep; since he
     From me departed, nought see I except a drowsy fair.[FN#137]
He shot me with the shafts of looks launched from an
     eyebrow's[FN#138] bow; A chamberlain[FN#139] betwixt his
     eyes hath driven me to despair.
My heart belike shall his infect with softness, even as me His
     body with disease infects, of its seductive air.
Yet, if with him forgotten be the troth-plight of our loves, I
     have a king who of his grace will not forget me e'er.
His sides the tamarisk's slenderness deride, so lithe they are,
     Whence for conceit in his own charms still drunken doth he
     fare.
Whenas he runs, his feet still show like wings,[FN#140] and for
     the wind When was a rider found, except King Solomon it
     were?[FN#141]

Therewithal El Abbas smiled and her verses pleased him. Then he
bade the fourth damsel come forward and sing. Now she was from
the land of Morocco and her name was Belekhsha. So she came
forward and taking the lute and the psaltery, tightened the
strings thereof and smote thereon in many modes; then returned to
the first mode and improvising, sang the following verses:

When in the sitting-chamber we for merry-making sate, With thine
     eyes' radiance the place thou didst illuminate
And pliedst us with cups of wine, whilst from the necklace
     pearls[FN#142] A strange intoxicating bliss withal did
     circulate,
Whose subtleness might well infect the understanding folk; And
     secrets didst thou, in thy cheer, to us communicate.
Whenas we saw the cup, forthright we signed to past it round And
     sun and moon unto our eyes shone sparkling from it straight.
The curtain of delight, perforce, we've lifted through the
     friend,[FN#143] For tidings of great joy, indeed, there came
     to us of late.
The camel-leader singing came with the belov'd; our wish
     Accomplished was and we were quit of all the railers' prate.
When clear'd my sky was by the sweet of our foregathering And not
     a helper there remained to disuniting Fate,
I shut myself up with my love; no spy betwixt us was; We feared
     no enemies' despite, no envious neighbour's hate.
Life with our loves was grown serene, estrangement was at end:
     Our dear ones all delight of love vouchsafed to us elate,
Saying, "Thy fill of union take; no spy is there on us, Whom we
     should fear, nor yet reproach our gladness may abate."
Our loves are joined and cruelty at last is done away; Ay, and
     the cup of love-delight 'twixt us doth circulate.
Upon yon be the peace of God! May all prosperity, For what's
     decreed of years and lives, upon you ever wait!

When Belekhsha had made an end of her verses, all present were
moved to delight and El Abbas said to her, "Well done, O damsel!"
Then he bade the fifth damsel come forward and sing. Now she was
from the land of Syria and her name was Rihaneh; she was
surpassing of voice and when she appeared in an assembly, all
eyes were fixed upon her. So she came forward and taking the
rebeck (for that she was used to play upon [all manner]
instruments) improvised and sang the following verses:

Your coming to-me-ward, indeed, with "Welcome! fair welcome!" I
     hail. Your sight to me gladness doth bring and banisheth
     sorrow and bale;
For love with your presence grows sweet, untroubled and life is
     serene And the star of our fortune burns bright, that clouds
     in your absence did veil.
Yea, by Allah, my longing for you ne'er waneth nor passetb away;
     For your like among creatures is rare and sought for in
     mountain and vale.
Ask mine eyes whether slumber hath lit on their lids since the
     hour of your loss Or if aye on a lover they've looked. Nay,
     an ye believe not their tale,
My heart, since the leave-taking day afflicted, will tell of my
     case, And my body, for love and desire grown wasted and
     feeble and frail.
Could they who reproach me but see my sufferings, their hearts
     would relent; They'd marvel, indeed, at my case and the loss
     of my loved ones bewail.
Yea, they'd join me in pouring forth tears and help me my woes to
     lament, And like unto me they'd become all wasted and
     tortured and pale.
How long did the heart for thy love that languished with longing
     endure A burden of passion, 'neath which e'en mountains
     might totter and fail!
By Allah, what sorrows and woes to my soul for thy sake were
     decreed! My heart is grown hoar, ere eld's snows have left
     on my tresses their trail.
The fires in my vitals that rage if I did but discover to view,
     Their ardour the world to consume, from the East to the
     West, might avail.
But now unto me of my loves accomplished are joyance and cheer
     And those whom I cherish my soul with the wine of
     contentment regale.
Our Lord, after sev'rance, with them hath conjoined us, for he
     who doth good Shall ne'er disappointed abide and kindnesses
     kindness entail.

When King El Aziz heard the damsel's song, her speech and her
verses pleased him and he said to El Abbas, "O my son, verily,
these damsels are weary with long versifying, and indeed they
make us yearn after the dwellings and the homesteads with the
goodliness of their songs. Indeed, these five have adorned our
assembly with the excellence of their melodies and have done well
in that which they have said before those who are present;
wherefore we counsel thee to enfranchise them for the love of God
the Most High." Quoth El Abbas, "There is no commandment but thy
commandment;" and he enfranchised the ten damsels in the
assembly; whereupon they kissed the hands of the king and his son
and prostrated themselves in thanksgiving to God the Most High.
Then they put off that which was upon them of ornaments and
laying aside the lutes [and other] instruments of music, clave to
their houses, veiled, and went not forth.[FN#144]

As for King El Aziz, he lived after this seven years and was
admitted to the mercy of God the Most High; whereupon his son El
Abbas carried him forth to burial on such wise as beseemeth unto
kings and let make recitations and readings of the Koran, in
whole or in part, over his tomb. He kept up the mourning for his
father a full-told month, at the end of which time he sat down on
the throne of the kingship and judged and did justice and
distributed silver and gold. Moreover, he loosed all who were in
the prisons and abolished grievances and customs dues and did the
oppressed justice of the oppressor; wherefore the people prayed
for him and loved him and invoked on him endurance of glory and
kingship and length of continuance [on life] and eternity of
prosperity and happiness. Moreover, the troops submitted to him
and the hosts from all parts of the kingdom, and there came to
him presents from all the lands. The kings obeyed him and many
were his troops and his grandees, and his subjects lived with him
the most easeful and prosperous of lives.

Meanwhile, he ceased not, he and his beloved, Queen Mariyeh, in
the most delightsome of life and the pleasantest thereof, and he
was vouchsafed by her children; and indeed there befell
friendship and love between them and the longer their
companionship was prolonged, the more their love waxed, so that
they became unable to endure from each other a single hour, save
the time of his going forth to the Divan, when he would return to
her in the utterest that might be of longing. Aud on this wise
they abode in all solace and delight of life, till there came to
them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies. So
extolled be the perfection of Him whose kingdom endureth for
ever, who is never heedless neither dieth nor sleepeth! This is
all that hath come down to us of their story, and so peace [be on
you!]





                SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.[FN#145]



King Shehriyar marvelled [at this story[FN#146]] and said "By
Allah, verily, injustice slayeth its folk!"[FN#147] And he was
edified by that wherewith Shehrzad bespoke him and sought help of
God the Most High. Then said he to her, "Tell me another of thy
stories, O Shehrzad; let it be a pleasant one and this shall be
the completion of the story-telling." "With all my heart,"
answered Shehrzad. "It hath reached me, O august King, that a man
once said to his fellows, 'I will set forth to you a
means[FN#148] of security[FN#149] against vexation.[FN#150] A
friend of mine once related to me and said, "We attained [whiles]
to security[FN#151] against vexation,[FN#152]and the origin of it
was other than this; to wit, it was as follows.[FN#153]





                 THE TWO KINGS AND THE VIZIER'S
                       DAUGHTERS.[FN#154]



[Aforetime] I journeyed in [many] lands and climes and towns and
visited the great cities and traversed the ways and [exposed
myself to] dangers and hardships. Towards the last of my life, I
entered a city [of the cities of China],[FN#155] wherein was a
king of the Chosroes and the Tubbas[FN#156] and the
Caesars.[FN#157] Now that city had been peopled with its
inhabitants by means of justice and equitable dealing; but its
[then] king was a tyrant, who despoiled souls and [did away]
lives; there was no wanning oneself at his fire,[FN#158] for that
indeed he oppressed the true believers and wasted the lands. Now
he had a younger brother, who was [king] in Samarcand of the
Persians, and the two kings abode a while of time, each in his
own city and place, till they yearned unto each other and the
elder king despatched his vizier in quest of his younger brother.

When the vizier came to the King of Samarcand [and acquainted him
with his errand], he submitted himself to the commandment [of his
brother and made answer] with 'Hearkening and obedience.' Then he
equipped himself and made ready for the journey and brought forth
his tents and pavilions. A while after midnight, he went in to
his wife, that he might take leave of her, and found with her a
strange man, sleeping with her in one bed. So he slew them both
and dragging them out by the feet, cast them away and set forth
incontinent on his journey. When he came to his brother's court,
the latter rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy and lodged him
in the pavilion of entertainment, [to wit, the guest-house,]
beside his own palace. Now this pavilion overlooked a garden
belonging to the elder king and there the younger brother abode
with him some days. Then he called to mind that which his wife
had done with him and remembered him of her slaughter and
bethought him how he was a king, yet was not exempt from the
vicissitudes of fortune; and this wrought upon him with an
exceeding despite, so that it caused him abstain from meat and
drink, or, if he ate anything, it profited him not.

When his brother saw him on this wise, he doubted not but that
this had betided him by reason of severance from his people and
family and said to him, 'Come, let us go forth a-hunting.' But he
refused to go with him; so the elder brother went forth to the
chase, whilst the younger abode in the pavilion aforesaid. As he
was diverting himself by looking out upon the garden from the
window of the palace, behold, he saw his brother's wife and with
her ten black slaves and as many slave-girls. Each slave laid
hold of a damsel [and swived her] and another slave [came forth
and] did the like with the queen; and when they had done their
occasions, they all returned whence they came. Therewithal there
betided the King of Samarcand exceeding wonder and solacement and
he was made whole of his malady, little by little.

After a few days, his brother returned and finding him healed of
his sickness, said to him, 'Tell me, O my brother, what was the
cause of thy sickness and thy pallor, and what is the cause of
the return of health to thee and of rosiness to thy face after
this?' So he acquainted him with the whole case and this was
grievous to him; but they concealed their affair and agreed to
leave the kingship and fare forth pilgrim-wise, wandering at a
venture, for they deemed that there had befallen none the like of
this which had befallen them. [So they went forth and wandered on
at hazard] and as they journeyed, they saw by the way a woman
imprisoned in seven chests, whereon were five locks, and sunken
in the midst of the salt sea, under the guardianship of an Afrit;
yet for all this that woman issued forth of the sea and opened
those locks and coming forth of those chests, did what she would
with the two brothers, after she had circumvented the Afrit.

When the two kings saw that woman's fashion and how she
circumvented the Afrit, who had lodged her at the bottom of the
sea, they turned back to their kingdoms and the younger betook
himself to Samarcand, whilst the elder returned to China and
established unto himself a custom in the slaughter of women, to
wit, his vizier used to bring him a girl every night, with whom
he lay that night, and when he arose in the morning, he gave her
to the vizier and bade him put her to death. On this wise he
abode a great while, whilst the people murmured and the creatures
[of God] were destroyed and the commons cried out by reason of
that grievous affair whereinto they were fallen and feared the
wrath of God the Most High, dreading lest He should destroy them
by means of this. Still the king persisted in that fashion and in
that his blameworthy intent of the killing of women and the
despoilment of the curtained ones,[FN#159] wherefore the girls
sought succour of God the Most High and complained to Him of the
tyranny of the king and of his oppressive dealing with them.

Now the king's vizier had two daughters, own sisters, the elder
of whom had read books and made herself mistress of [all]
sciences and studied the writings of the sages and the histories
of the boon-companions,[FN#160] and she was possessed of abundant
wit and knowledge galore and surpassing apprehension. She heard
that which the folk suffered from the king and his despiteous
usage of their children; whereupon compassion gat hold upon her
for them and jealousy and she besought God the Most High that He
would bring the king to renounce that his heresy,[FN#161] and God
answered her prayer. Then she took counsel with her younger
sister and said to her, 'I mean to contrive somewhat for the
liberation of the people's children; and it is that I will go up
to the king [and offer myself to him], and when I come to his
presence, I will seek thee. When thou comest in to me and the
king hath done his occasion [of me], do thou say to me, 'O my
sister, let me hear and let the king hear a story of thy goodly
stories, wherewithal we may beguile the waking hours of our
night, till we take leave of each other.' 'It is well,' answered
the other. 'Surely this contrivance will deter the king from his
heresy and thou shalt be requited with exceeding favour and
abounding recompense in the world to come, for that indeed thou
adventurest thyself and wilt either perish or attain to thy
desire.'

So she did this and fair fortune aided her and the Divine favour
was vouchsafed unto her and she discovered her intent to her
father, who forbade her therefrom, fearing her slaughter.
However, she repeated her speech to him a second and a third
time, but he consented not. Then he cited unto her a parable,
that should deter her, and she cited him a parable in answer to
his, and the talk was prolonged between them and the adducing of
instances, till her father saw that he availed not to turn her
from her purpose and she said to him, 'Needs must I marry the
king, so haply I may be a sacrifice for the children of the
Muslims; either I shall turn him from this his heresy or I shall
die.' When the vizier despaired of dissuading her, he went up to
the king and acquainted him with the case, saying, 'I have a
daughter and she desireth to give herself to the king.' Quoth the
king, 'How can thy soul consent unto this, seeing that thou
knowest I lie but one night with a girl and when I arise on the
morrow, I put her to death, and it is thou who slayest her, and
thou hast done this again and again?' 'Know, O king,' answered
the vizier, 'that I have set forth all this to her, yet consented
she not unto aught, but needs must she have thy company and still
chooseth to come to thee and present herself before thee,
notwithstanding that I have cited to her the sayings of the
sages; but she hath answered me to the contrary thereof with more
than that which I said to her.' And the king said, 'Bring her to
me this night and to-morrow morning come thou and take her and
put her to death; and by Allah, an thou slay her not, I will slay
thee and her also!'

The vizier obeyed the king's commandment and going out from
before him, [returned to his own house. When it was night, he
took his elder daughter and carried her up to the king; and when
she came into his presence,] she wept; whereupon quoth he to her,
'What causeth thee weep? Indeed, it was thou who willedst this.'
And she answered, saying, 'I weep not but for longing after my
little sister; for that, since we grew up, I and she, I have
never been parted from her till this day; so, if it please the
king to send for her, that I may look on her and take my fill of
her till the morning, this were bounty and kindness of the king.'

Accordingly, the king bade fetch the girl [and she came]. Then
there befell that which befell of his foregathering with the
elder sister, and when he went up to his couch, that he might
sleep, the younger sister said to the elder, 'I conjure thee by
Allah, O my sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us a story of thy
goodly stories, wherewithal we may beguile the watches of our
night, against morning come and parting.' 'With all my heart,'
answered she and fell to relating to her, whilst the king
listened. Her story was goodly and delightful, and whilst she was
in the midst of telling it, the dawn broke. Now the king's heart
clave to the hearing of the rest of the story; so he respited her
till the morrow, and when it was the next night, she told him a
story concerning the marvels of the lands and the extraordinary
chances of the folk, that was yet stranger and rarer than the
first. In the midst of the story, the day appeared and she was
silent from the permitted speech. So he let her live till the
ensuing night, so he might hear the completion of the story and
after put her to death.

Meanwhile, the people of the city rejoiced and were glad and
blessed the vizier's daughter, marvelling for that three days had
passed and that the king had not put her to death and exulting in
that, [as they deemed,] he had turned [from his purpose] and
would never again burden himself with blood-guiltiness against
any of the maidens of the city. Then, on the fourth night, she
related to him a still more extraordinary story, and on the fifth
night she told him anecdotes of kings and viziers and notables.
On this wise she ceased not [to do] with him [many] days and
nights, what while the king still said in himself, 'When I have
heard the end of the story, I will put her to death,' and the
people waxed ever in wonder and admiration. Moreover, the folk of
the provinces and cities heard of this thing, to wit, that the
king had turned from his custom and from that which he had
imposed upon himself and had renounced his heresy, wherefore they
rejoiced and the folk returned to the capital and took up their
abode therein, after they had departed thence; yea, they were
constant in prayer to God the Most High that He would stablish
the king in that his present case; and this," said Shehrzad, "is
the end of that which my friend related to me."

"O Shehrzad," quoth Shehriyar, "finish unto us the story that thy
friend told thee, for that it resembleth the story of a king whom
I knew; but fain would I hear that which betided the people of
this city and what they said of the affair of the king, so I may
return from that wherein I was." "With all my heart," answered
Shehrzad. "Know, O august king and lord of just judgment and
praiseworthy excellence and exceeding prowess, that, when the
folk heard that the king had put away from him his custom and
returned from that which had been his wont, they rejoiced in this
with an exceeding joy and offered up prayers for him. Then they
talked with one another of the cause of the slaughter of the
girls, and the wise said, 'They[FN#162] are not all alike, nor
are the fingers of the hand alike.'"





                SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.[FN#163]
                          (Conclusion)



When King Shehriyar heard this story, he came to himself and
awaking from his drunkenness,[FN#164] said, "By Allah, this story
is my story and this case is my case, for that indeed I was in
wrath[FN#165] and [danger of] punishment till thou turnedst me
back from this into the right way, extolled be the perfection of
the Causer of causes and the Liberator of necks! Indeed, O
Shehrzad," continued he, "thou hast awakened me unto many things
and hast aroused me from mine ignorance."

Then said she to him, "O chief of the kings, the wise say, 'The
kingship is a building, whereof the troops are the foundation,'
and whenas the foundation is strong, the building endureth;
wherefore it behoveth the king to strengthen the foundation, for
that they say, 'Whenas the foundation is weak, the building
falleth.' On like wise it behoveth the king to care for his
troops and do justice among his subjects, even as the owner of
the garden careth for his trees and cutteth away the weeds that
have no profit in them; and so it behoveth the king to look into
the affairs of his subjects and fend off oppression from them. As
for thee, O king," continued Shehrzad, "it behoveth thee that thy
vizier be virtuous and versed in the knowledge of the affairs of
the folk and the common people; and indeed God the Most High hath
named his name[FN#166] in the history of Moses (on whom be
peace!) whenas He saith, [Quoth Moses] 'And make me a vizier of
my people, Aaron [my brother].[FN#167] Could a vizier have been
dispensed withal, Moses ben Imran had been worthier [than any of
this dispensation].[FN#168]

As for the vizier, the sultan discovereth unto him his affairs,
private and public; and know, O king, that the similitude of thee
with the people is that of the physician with the sick man; and
the condition[FN#169] of the vizier is that he be truthful in his
sayings, trustworthy in all his relations, abounding in
compassion for the folk and in tender solicitude over them.
Indeed, it is said, O king, that good troops[FN#170] are like the
druggist; if his perfumes reach thee not, thou still smallest the
sweet scent of them; and ill troops are like the black-smith; if
his sparks burn thee not, thou smellest his nauseous smell. So it
behoveth thee take unto thyself a virtuous vizier, a man of good
counsel, even as thou takest unto thee a wife displayed before
thy face, for that thou hast need of the man's righteousness for
thine own amendment,[FN#171] seeing that, if thou do righteously,
the commons will do likewise, and if thou do evil, they also will
do evil."

When the king heard this, drowsiness overcame him and he slept
and presently awaking, called for the candles. So they were
lighted and he sat down on his couch and seating Shehrzad by him,
smiled in her face. She kissed the earth before him and said, "O
king of the age and lord of the time and the day, extolled be the
perfection of [God] the Forgiving One, the Bountiful Giver, who
hath sent me unto thee, of His favour and beneficence, so I have
informed thee with longing after Paradise; for that this which
thou wast used to do was never done of any of the kings before
thee. As for women, God the Most High [in His Holy Book] maketh
mention of them, [whenas He saith, 'Verily, men who submit
[themselves unto God] and women who submit] and true-believing
men and true-believing women and obedient men and obedient women
and soothfast men and soothfast women [and long-suffering men and
long-suffering women and men who order themselves humbly and
women who order themselves humbly and charitable men and
charitable women and men who fast and women who fast] and men who
guard their privities and women who guard their privities [and
men who are constantly mindful of God and women who are
constantly mindful, God hath prepared unto them forgiveness and a
mighty recompense].[FN#172]

As for that which hath befallen thee, verily, it hath befallen
[many] kings before thee and their women have played them false,
for all they were greater of puissance than thou, yea, and
mightier of kingship and more abounding in troops. If I would, I
could relate unto thee, O king, concerning the wiles of women,
that whereof I could not make an end all my life long; and
indeed, aforetime, in all these my nights that I have passed
before thee, I have told thee [many stories and anecdotes] of the
artifices of women and of their craft and perfidy; but indeed the
things abound on me;[FN#173] wherefore, if it like thee, O king,
I will relate unto thee [somewhat] of that which befell kings of
old time of the perfidy of their women and of the calamities
which overtook them by reason of these latter." "How so?" asked
the king. "Tell on." "Hearkening and obedience,"answered
Shehrzad."It hath been told me, O king, that a man once related
to a company and spoke as follows:





              THE FAVOURITE AND HER LOVER.[FN#174]



One day, a day of excessive heat, as I stood at the door of my
house, I saw a fair woman approaching, and with her a slave-girl
carrying a parcel. They gave not over going till they came up to
me, when the woman stopped and said to me, 'Hast thou a draught
of water?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Enter the vestibule, O my lady, so
thou mayst drink.' Accordingly, she entered and I went up into
the house and fetched two mugs of earthenware, perfumed with
musk[FN#175] and full of cold water. She took one of them and
discovered her face, [that she might drink]; whereupon I saw that
she was as the shining sun or the rising moon and said to her, 'O
my lady, wilt thou not come up into the house, so thou mayst rest
thyself till the air grow cool and after go away to thine own
place?' Quoth she, 'Is there none with thee?' 'Indeed,' answered
I, 'I am a [stranger] and a bachelor and have none belonging to
me, nor is there a living soul in the house.' And she said, 'An
thou be a stranger, thou art he in quest of whom I was going
about.'

Then she went up into the house and put off her [walking] clothes
and I found her as she were the full moon. I brought her what I
had by me of meat and drink and said to her, 'O my lady, excuse
me: this is that which is ready.' Quoth she, 'This is abundant
kindness and indeed it is what I sought' And she ate and gave the
slave-girl that which was left; after which I brought her a
casting-bottle of rose-water, mingled with musk, and she washed
her hands and abode with me till the season of afternoon-prayer,
when she brought out of the parcel that she had with her a shirt
and trousers and an upper garment[FN#176] and a kerchief
wroughten with gold and gave them to me; saying, 'Know that I am
one of the favourites of the Khalif, and we are forty favourites,
each one of whom hath a lover who cometh to her as often as she
would have him; and none is without a lover save myself,
wherefore I came forth to-day to find me a gallant and behold, I
have found thee. Thou must know that the Khalif lieth each night
with one of us, whilst the other nine-and-thirty favourites take
their ease with the nine-and-thirty men, and I would have thee be
with me on such a day, when do thou come up to the palace of the
Khalif and wait for me in such a place, till a little eunuch come
out to thee and say to thee a [certain] word, to wit, "Art thou
Sendel?" And do thou answer, "Yes," and go with him.'

Then she took leave of me and I of her, after I had strained her
to my bosom and embraced her and we had kissed awhile. So she
went away and I abode expecting the appointed day, till it came,
when I arose and went forth, intending for the trysting-place;
but a friend of mine met me by the way [and would have me go home
with him. So I accompanied him to his house] and when I came up
[into his sitting-chamber] he locked the door on me and went
forth to fetch what we might eat and drink. He was absent till
mid-day, then till the hour of afternoon-prayer, whereat I was
sore disquieted. Then he was absent till sundown, and I was like
to die of chagrin and impatience; [and indeed he returned not]
and I passed my night on wake, nigh upon death, for that the door
was locked on me, and my soul was like to depart my body on
account of the tryst.

At daybreak, my friend returned and opening the door, came in,
bringing with him meat-pottage[FN#177] and fritters and bees'
honey,[FN#178] and said to me, 'By Allah, thou must needs excuse
me, for that I was with a company and they locked the door on me
and have but now let me go.' But I returned him no answer. Then
he set before me that which was with him and I ate a single
mouthful and went out, running, so haply I might overtake that
which had escaped me.[FN#179] When I came to the palace, I saw
over against it eight-and-thirty gibbets set up, whereon were
eight-and-thirty men crucified, and under them eight-and-thirty
concubines as they were moons. So I enquired of the reason of the
crucifixion of the men and concerning the women in question, and
it was said unto me, 'The men [whom thou seest] crucified the
Khalif found with yonder damsels, who are his favourites.' When I
heard this, I prostrated myself in thanksgiving to God and said,
'God requite thee with good, O my friend!' For that, had he not
invited me [and kept me perforce in his house] that night, I had
been crucified with these men, wherefore praise be to God!


Thus," continued Shehrzad, "none is safe from the calamities of
fortune and the vicissitudes of time, and [in proof of this], I
will relate unto thee yet another story still rarer and more
extraordinary than this. Know, O King, that one said to me, 'A
friend of mine, a merchant, told me the following story. Quoth
he,





            THE MERCHANT OF CAIRO AND THE FAVOURITE
              OF THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN EL HAKIM BI
                       AMRILLAH.[FN#180]



As I sat one day in my shop, there came up to me a fair woman, as
she were the moon at its rising, and with her a slave-girl. Now I
was a handsome man in my time; so the lady sat down on [the bench
before] my shop and buying stuffs of me, paid down the price and
went away. I questioned the girl of her and she said, "I know not
her name." Quoth I, "Where is her abode?" "In heaven," answered
the slave-girl; and I said, "She is presently on the earth; so
when doth she ascend to heaven and where is the ladder by which
she goeth up?" Quoth the girl, "She hath her lodging in a palace
between two rivers,[FN#181] to wit, the palace of El Mamoun el
Hakim bi Amrillah."[FN#182] Then said I, "I am a dead man,
without recourse; "but she replied, "Have patience, for needs
must she return unto thee and buy stuffs of thee yet again." "And
how cometh it," asked I, "that the Commander of the Faithful
trusteth her to go out?" "He loveth her with an exceeding love,"
answered she, "and is wrapped up in her and gainsayeth her not."

Then the girl went away, running, after her mistress, whereupon I
left the shop and set out after them, so I might see her
abiding-place. I followed after them all the way, till she
disappeared from mine eyes, when I returned to my place, with a
heart on fire. Some days after, she came to me again and bought
stuffs of me. I refused to take the price and she said, "We have
no need of thy goods." Quoth I, "O my lady, accept them from me
as a gift;" but she said, "[Wait] till I try thee and make proof
of thee." Then she brought out of her pocket a purse and gave me
therefrom a thousand dinars, saying, "Trade with this till I
return to thee." So I took the purse and she went away [and
returned not to me] till six months had passed by. Meanwhile, I
traded with the money and sold and bought and made other thousand
dinars profit [on it].

Presently, she came to me again and I said to her, "Here is thy
money and I have gained [with it] other thousand dinars." Quoth
she, "Keep it by thee and take these other thousand dinars. As
soon as I have departed from thee, go thou to Er Rauzeh[FN#183]
and build there a goodly pavilion, and when the building thereof
is accomplished, give me to know thereof." So saying, she left me
and went away. As soon as she was gone, I betook myself to Er
Rauzeh and addressed myself to the building of the pavilion, and
when it was finished, I furnished it with the goodliest of
furniture and sent to the lady to tell her that I had made an end
of its building; whereupon she sent back to me, saying, "Let him
meet me to-morrow at daybreak at the Zuweyleh gate and bring with
him a good ass." So I got me an ass and betaking myself to the
Zuweyleh gate, at the appointed time, found there a young man on
horse- back, awaiting her, even as I awaited her.

As we stood, behold, up came the lady, and with her a slave-girl.
When she saw the young man, she said to him, "Art thou here?" And
he answered, "Yes, O my lady." Quoth she, "To-day I am bidden by
this man. Wilt thou go with us?" And he replied, "Yes." Then said
she, "Thou hast brought me [hither] against my will and perforce.
Wilt thou go with us in any event?"[FN#184] "Yes, yes," answered
he and we fared on, [all three,] till we came to Er Rauzeh and
entered the pavilion. The lady diverted herself awhile with
viewing its ordinance and furniture, after which she put off her
[walking-]clothes and sat down [with the young man] in the
goodliest and chiefest place. Then I went forth and brought them
what they should eat at the first of the day; moreover, I went
out also and fetched them what they should eat at the last of the
day and brought them wine and dessert and fruits and flowers. On
this wise I abode in their service, standing on my feet, and she
said not unto me, "Sit," nor "Take, eat" nor "Take, drink," what
while she and the young man sat toying and laughing, and he fell
to kissing her and pinching her and hopping about upon the ground
and laughing.

They abode thus awhile and presently she said, "Up to now we have
not become drunken; let me pour out." So she took the cup and
gave him to drink and plied him with liquor, till he became
drunken, when she took him and carried him into a closet. Then
she came out, with his head in her hand, what while I stood
silent, fixing not mine eyes on hers neither questioning her of
this; and she said to me, "What is this?" "I know not," answered
I; and she said, "Take it and cast it into the river." I obeyed
her commandment and she arose and stripping herself of her
clothes, took a knife and cut the dead man's body in pieces,
which she laid in three baskets, and said to me, "Throw them into
the river."

I did as she bade me and when I returned, she said to me, "Sit,
so I may relate to thee yonder fellow's case, lest thou be
affrighted at that which hath befallen him. Thou must know that I
am the Khalif's favourite, nor is there any more in honour with
him than I; and I am allowed six nights in each month, wherein I
go down [into the city and take up my abode] with my [former]
mistress, who reared me; and when I go down thus, I dispose of
myself as I will. Now this young man was the son of neighbours of
my mistress, when I was a virgin girl. One day, my mistress was
[engaged] with the chief [officers] of the palace and I was alone
in the house. When the night came on, I went up to the roof, so I
might sleep there, and before I was aware, this youth came up
from the street and falling upon me, knelt on my breast. He was
armed with a poniard and I could not win free of him till he had
done away my maidenhead by force; and this sufficed him not, but
he must needs disgrace me with all the folk, for, as often as I
came down from the palace, he would lie in wait for me by the way
and swive me against my will and follow me whithersoever I went.
This, then, is my story, and as for thee, thou pleasest me and
thy patience pleaseth me and thy good faith and loyal service,
and there abideth with me none dearer than thou." Then I lay with
her that night and there befell what befell between us till the
morning, when she gave me wealth galore and fell to coming to the
pavilion six days in every month.

On this wise we abode a whole year, at the end of which time she
was absent[FN#185] from me a month's space, wherefore fire raged
in my heart on her account. When it was the next month, behold, a
little eunuch presented himself to me and said, "I am a messenger
to thee from such an one," [naming my mistress], "who giveth thee
to know that the Commander of the Faithful hath sentenced her to
be drowned, her and those who are with her, six-and-twenty
slave-girls, on such a day at Deir et Tin,[FN#186] for that they
have confessed against one another of lewdness, and she biddeth
thee look how thou mayst do with her and how thou mayst contrive
to deliver her, even if thou gather together all her money and
spend it upon her, for that this is the time of manhood."[FN#187]
Quoth I, "I know not this woman; belike it is other than I [to
whom this message is addressed]; so beware, O eunuch, lest thou
cast me into stress." Quoth he, "Behold, I have told thee [that
which I had to say,"] and went away, leaving me in concern [on
her account].

[When the appointed day arrived], I arose and changing my clothes
and favour, donned sailor's apparel; then I took with me a purse
full of gold and buying good [victual for the] morning-meal,
accosted a boatman [at Deir et Tin] and sat down and ate with
him; after which said I to him, "Wilt thou hire me thy boat?"
Quoth he, "The Commander of the Faithful hath commanded me to be
here;" and he told me the story of the concubines and how the
Khalif purposed to drown them that day. When I heard this from
him, I brought out to him half a score dinars and discovered to
him my case, whereupon quoth he to me, "O my brother, get thee
empty calabashes, and when thy mistress cometh, give me to know
of her and I will contrive the trick."

I kissed his hand and thanked him, and as I was walking about,
[waiting,] up came the guards and eunuchs with the women, who
were weeping and crying out and taking leave of one another. The
eunuchs cried out to us, whereupon we came with the boat, and
they said to the boatman, "Who is this?" "This is my mate,"
answered he, "[whom I have brought,] to help me, so one of us may
keep the boat, whilst another doth your service." Then they
brought out to us the women, one by one, saying, "Throw them [in]
by the Island;" and we answered, "It is well." Now each of them
was shackled and they had made a jar of sand fast about her neck.
We did as the eunuchs bade us and ceased not to take the women,
one after another, and cast them in, till they gave us my
mistress and I winked to my comrade. So we took her and carried
her out into mid-stream, where I gave her the empty
calabashes[FN#188] and said to her, "Wait for me at the mouth of
the canal." Then we cast her in, after we had loosed the jar of
sand from her neck and done off her fetters, and returned.

Now there remained one after her; so we took her and drowned her
and the eunuchs went away, whilst we dropped down the river with
the boat till we came to the mouth of the canal, where I saw my
mistress awaiting me. So we took her up into the boat and
returned to our pavilion on Er Rauzeh. Then I rewarded the
boatman and he took his boat and went away; whereupon quoth she
to me, "Thou art indeed a friend in need."[FN#189] And I abode
with her some days; but the shock wrought upon her so that she
sickened and fell to wasting away and redoubled in languishment
and weakness till she died. I mourned for her with an exceeding
mourning and buried her; after which I removed all that was in
the pavilion to my own house [and abandoned the former].

Now she had brought to the pavilion aforetime a little brass
coffer and laid it in a place whereof I knew not; so, when the
inspector of inheritances[FN#190] came, he searched the pavilion
and found the coffer, with the key in the lock. So he opened it
and finding it full of jewels and jacinths and earrings and
seal-rings and precious stones, such as are not found save with
kings and sultans, took it, and me with it, and ceased not to put
me to the question with beating and torment till I confessed to
them the whole affair from beginning to end, whereupon they
carried me to the Khalif and I told him all that had passed
between me and her; and he said to me, "O man, depart from this
city, for I acquit thee for thy valiance sake and because of thy
[constancy in] keeping thy secret and thy daring in exposing
thyself to death." So I arose forthright and departed his city;
and this is what befell me.'"





                    SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.



King Shehriyar marvelled at these things and Shehrzad said to
him, "Thou marvelledst at that which befell thee on the part of
women; yet hath there befallen the kings of the Chosroes before
thee what was more grievous than that which befell thee, and
indeed I have set forth unto thee that which betided khalifs and
kings and others than they with their women, but the exposition
is long and hearkening groweth tedious, and in this [that I have
already told thee] is sufficiency for the man of understanding
and admonishment for the wise."

Then she was silent, and when the king heard her speech and
profited by that which she said, he summoned up his reasoning
faculties and cleansed his heart and caused his understanding
revert [to the right way] and turned [with repentance] to God the
Most High and said in himself, "Since there befell the kings of
the Chosroes more than that which hath befallen me, never, whilst
I abide [on life], shall I cease to blame myself [for that which
I did in the slaughter of the daughters of the folk]. As for this
Shehrzad, her like is not found in the lands; so extolled be the
perfection of Him who appointed her a means for the deliverance
of His creatures from slaughter and oppression!" Then he arose
from his session and kissed her head, whereat she rejoiced with
an exceeding joy, she and her sister Dinarzad.

When the morning morrowed, the king went forth and sitting down
on the throne of the kingship, summoned the grandees of his
empire; whereupon the chamberlains and deputies and captains of
the host went in to him and kissed the earth before him. He
distinguished the vizier with his especial favour and bestowed on
him a dress of honour and entreated him with the utmost kindness,
after which he set forth briefly to his chief officers that which
had betided him with Shehrzad and how he had turned from that his
former usance and repented him of what he had done aforetime and
purposed to take the vizier's daughter Shehrzad to wife and let
draw up the contract of marriage with her.

When those who were present heard this, they kissed the earth
before him and offered up prayers for him and for the damsel
Shehrzad, and the vizier thanked her. Then Shehriyar made an end
of the session in all weal, whereupon the folk dispersed to their
dwelling-places and the news was bruited abroad that the king
purposed to marry the vizier's daughter Shehrzad. Then he
proceeded to make ready the wedding gear, and [when he had made
an end of his preparations], he sent after his brother King
Shahzeman, who came, and King Shehriyar went forth to meet him
with the troops. Moreover, they decorated the city after the
goodliest fashion and diffused perfumes [from the
censing-vessels] and [burnt] aloes-wood and other perfumes in all
the markets and thoroughfares and rubbed themselves with saffron,
what while the drums beat and the flutes and hautboys sounded and
it was a notable day.

When they came to the palace, King Shehriyar commanded to spread
the tables with beasts roasted [whole] and sweetmeats and all
manner viands and bade the crier make proclamation to the folk
that they should come up to the Divan and eat and drink and that
this should be a means of reconciliation between him and them. So
great and small came up unto him and they abode on that wise,
eating and drinking, seven days with their nights. Then the king
shut himself up with his brother and acquainted him with that
which had betided him with the vizier's daughter [Shehrzad] in
those three years [which were past] and told him what he had
heard from her of saws and parables and chronicles and pleasant
traits and jests and stories and anecdotes and dialogues and
histories and odes and verses; whereat King Shahzeman marvelled
with the utterest of marvel and said, "Fain would I take her
younger sister to wife, so we may be two own brothers to two own
sisters, and they on likewise be sisters unto us; for that the
calamity which befell me was the means of the discovering of that
which befell thee and all this time of three years past I have
taken no delight in woman, save that I lie each night with a
damsel of my kingdom, and when I arise in the morning, I put her
to death; but now I desire to marry thy wife's sister Dinarzad."

When King Shehriyar heard his brother's words he rejoiced with an
exceeding joy and arising forthright, went in to his wife
Shehrzad and gave her to know of that which his brother purposed,
to wit, that he sought her sister Dinarzad in marriage;
whereupon, "O king of the age," answered she, "we seek of him one
condition, to wit, that he take up his abode with us, for that I
cannot brook to be parted from my sister an hour, because we were
brought up together and may not brook severance from each other.
If he accept this condition, she is his handmaid." King Shehriyar
returned to his brother and acquainted him with that which
Shehrzad had said; and he answered, saying, "Indeed, this is what
was in my mind, for that I desire nevermore to be parted from
thee. As for the kingdom, God the Most High shall send unto it
whom He chooseth, for that there abideth to me no desire for the
kingship."

When King Shehriyar heard his brother's words, he rejoiced with
an exceeding joy and said, "Verily, this is what I had wished, O
my brother. So praised be God who hath brought about union
between us!" Then he sent after the Cadis and learned men and
captains and notables, and they married the two brothers to the
two sisters. The contracts were drawn up and the two kings
bestowed dresses of honour of silk and satin on those who were
present, whilst the city was decorated and the festivities were
renewed. The king commanded each amir and vizier and chamberlain
and deputy to decorate his palace and the folk of the city
rejoiced in the presage of happiness and content. Moreover, King
Shehriyar bade slaughter sheep and get up kitchens and made
bride-feasts and fed all comers, high and low.


Then the eunuchs went forth, that they might perfume the bath
[for the use of the brides]; so they essenced it with rose-water
and willow-flower-water and bladders of musk and fumigated it
with Cakili[FN#191] aloes-wood and ambergris. Then Shehrzad
entered, she and her sister Dinarzad, and they cleansed their
heads and clipped their hair. When they came forth of the bath,
they donned raiment and ornaments, [such as were] prepared for
the kings of the Chosroes; and among Shehrzad's apparel was a
dress charactered with red gold and wroughten with semblants of
birds and beasts. Moreover, they both encircled their necks with
necklaces of jewels of price, in the like whereof
Iskender[FN#192] rejoiced not, for therein were great jewels such
as amazed the wit and the eye, and the thought was bewildered at
their charms, for indeed, each of them was brighter than the sun
and the moon. Before them they kindled lighted flambeaux in
torch-holders of gold, but their faces outshone the flambeaux,
for that they had eyes sharper than drawn swords and the lashes
of their eyelids ensorcelled all hearts. Their cheeks were rosy
and their necks and shapes swayed gracefully and their eyes
wantoned. And the slave-girls came to meet them with instruments
of music.

Then the two kings entered the bath, and when they came forth,
they sat down on a couch, inlaid with pearls and jewels,
whereupon the two sisters came up to them and stood before them,
as they were moons, swaying gracefully from side to side in their
beauty and grace. Presently they brought forward Shehrzad and
displayed her, for the first dress, in a red suit; whereupon King
Shehriyar rose to look upon her and the wits of all present, men
and women, were confounded, for that she was even as saith of her
one of her describers:

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

Then they attired Dinarzad in a dress of blue brocade and she
became as she were the full moon, whenas it shineth forth. So
they displayed her in this, for the first dress, before King
Shahzeman, who rejoiced in her and well-nigh took leave of his
wits for longing and amorous desire; yea, he was distraught with
love for her, whenas he saw her, for, indeed, she was as saith of
her one of her describers in the following verses:

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

Then they returned to Shehrzad and displayed her in the second
dress. They clad her in a dress of surpassing goodliness, and
veiled her face to the eyes with her hair. Moreover, they let
down her side locks and she was even as saith of her one of her
describers in the following verses:

Bravo for her whose loosened locks her cheeks do overcloud! She
     slays me with her cruelty, so fair she is and proud.
Quoth I, "Thou overcurtainest the morning with the night;" And
     she, "Not so; it is the moon that with the dark I shroud."


Then they displayed Dinarzad in a second and a third and a fourth
dress and she came forward, as she were the rising sun, and
swayed coquettishly to and fro; and indeed she was even as saith
the poet of her in the following verses:

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

Then they displayed Shehrzad in the third dress and the fourth
and the fifth, and she became as she were a willow-wand or a
thirsting gazelle, goodly of grace and perfect of attributes,
even as saith of her one in the following verses:

Like the full moon she shows upon a night of fortune fair,
     Slender of shape and charming all with her seductive air.
She hath an eye, whose glances pierce the hearts of all mankind,
     Nor can cornelian with her cheeks for ruddiness compare.
The sable torrent of her locks falls down unto her hips; Beware
     the serpents of her curls, I counsel thee, beware!
Indeed her glance, her sides are soft; but none the less, alas!
     Her heart is harder than the rock; there is no mercy there.
The starry arrows of her looks she darts above her veil; They hit
     and never miss the mark, though from afar they fare.

Then they returned to Dinarzad and displayed her in the fifth
dress and in the sixth, which was green. Indeed, she overpassed
with her loveliness the fair of the four quarters of the world
and outshone, with the brightness of her countenance, the full
moon at its rising; for she was even as saith of her the poet in
the following verses:

A damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace; Thou'dst
     deem the very sun had borrowed from her face.
She came in robes of green, the likeness of the leaf That the
     pomegranate's flower doth in the bud encase.
"How call'st thou this thy dress?" quoth we, and she replied A
     word wherein the wise a lesson well might trace;
"Breaker of hearts," quoth she, "I call it, for therewith I've
     broken many a heart among the amorous race."

Then they displayed Shehrzad in the sixth and seventh dresses and
clad her in youths' apparel, whereupon she came forward, swaying
coquettishly from side to side; and indeed she ravished wits and
hearts and ensorcelled with her glances [all who looked on her].
She shook her sides and wagged her hips, then put her hair on the
hilt of her sword and went up to King Shehriyar, who embraced
her, as the hospitable man embraces the guest, and threatened her
in her ear with the taking of the sword; and indeed she was even
as saith of her the poet in these verses:


Were not the darkness[FN#193] still in gender masculine, As
     ofttimes is the case with she-things passing fine,
Tirewomen to the bride, who whiskers, ay, and beard Upon her face
     produce, they never would assign.[FN#194]

On this wise they did with her sister Dinarzad, and when they had
made an end of displaying the two brides, the king bestowed
dresses of honour on all who were present and dismissed them to
their own places. Then Shehrzad went in to King Shehriyar and
Dinarzad to King Shahzeman and each of them solaced himself with
the company of his beloved and the hearts of the folk were
comforted. When the morning morrowed, the vizier came in to the
two kings and kissed the ground before them; wherefore they
thanked him and were bountiful to him. Then they went forth and
sat down upon couches of estate, whilst all the viziers and amirs
and grandees and the chief officers of the realm and the
household presented themselves before them and kissed the earth.
King Shehriyar ordered them dresses of honour and largesse and
they offered up prayers for the abiding continuance [on life] of
the king and his brother.

Then the two kings appointed their father-in-law the vizier to be
viceroy in Samarcand and assigned him five of the chief amirs to
accompany him, charging them attend him and do him service. The
vizier kissed the earth and prayed that they might be vouchsafed
length of life. Then he went in to his daughters, whilst the
eunuchs and ushers walked before him, and saluted them and bade
them farewell. They kissed his hands and gave him joy of the
kingship and bestowed on him treasures galore. Then he took leave
of them and setting out, journeyed days and nights till he came
within three days' journey of Samarcand, where the townspeople
met him and rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy. So he entered
Samarcand and they decorated the city, and it was a notable day.
He sat down on the throne of his kingship and the viziers did him
homage and the grandees and amirs of Samarcand and prayed that he
might be vouchsafed justice and victory and length of continuance
[on life]. So he bestowed on them dresses of honour and entreated
them with worship and they made him Sultan over them.

As soon as his father-in-law had departed for Samarcand, King
Shehriyar summoned the grandees of his realm and made them a
magnificent banquet of all manner rich meats and exquisite
sweetmeats. Moreover, he bestowed on them dresses of honour and
guerdoned them and divided the kingdoms between himself and his
brother in their presence, whereat the folk rejoiced. Then the
two kings abode, ruling each a day in turn and they accorded with
each other, what while their wives continued in the love of God
the Most High and in thanksgiving to Him; and the subjects and
the provinces were at peace and the preachers prayed for them
from the pulpits, and their report was bruited abroad and the
travellers bore tidings of them [to all countries].

Moreover, King Shehriyar summoned chroniclers and copyists and
bade them write all that had betided him with his wife, first and
last; so they wrote this and named it "The Stories of the
Thousand Nights and One Night." The book came to[FN#195] thirty
volumes and these the king laid up in his treasury. Then the two
kings abode with their wives in all delight and solace of life,
for that indeed God the Most High had changed their mourning into
joyance; and on this wise they continued till there took them the
Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, he who maketh void
the dwelling-places and peopleth the tombs, and they were translated to the mercy of God the
Most High; their houses were laid waste and their palaces ruined and the kings inherited their
riches.

Then there reigned after them an understanding king, who was just, keen-witted and
accomplished and loved stories, especially those which chronicle the doings of kings and sultans,
and he found [in the treasuries of the kings who had foregone him] these marvellous and rare and
delightful stories, [written] in the thirty volumes aforesaid. So he read in them a first book and a
second and a third and [so on] to the last of them, and each book pleased him more than that
which forewent it, till he came to the end of them. Then he marvelled at that which he had read
[therein] of stories and discourse and witty traits and anecdotes and moral instances and
reminiscences and bade the folk copy them and publish them in all lands and climes; wherefore
their report was bruited abroad and the people named them "The marvels and rarities of the
Thousand Nights and One Night." This is all that hath come down to us of [the history of] this
book, and God is All-Knowing.[FN#196]





                  Calcutta (1814-18) Text. 183



           Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter



                             NOTE.



As the version of the sixth and seventh voyages of Sindbad the Sailor contained in[FN#197] the
Calcutta Edition (1814-18) of the first two hundred Nights and in the text of the Voyages
published by M. Langles (Paris, 1814) differs very materially from that of the complete Calcutta
(1839-42) Edition[FN#198] (which is, in this case, practically identical with those of Boulac and
Breslau), adopted by me as my standard text in the translation of "The Book of the Thousand
Nights and One Night," the story of the seventh voyage in particular turning upon an altogether
different set of incidents, related nearly as in the old version of M. Galland, I now give a
translation of the text of the two voyages in question afforded by the Calcutta (1814-18) Edition,
corrected and completed by collation with that of M. Langles, from which it differs only in being
slightly less full. It will be observed that in this version of the story the name Sindbad is reserved
for the Sailor, the porter being called Hindbad.





           SINDBAD THE SAILOR AND HINDBAD THE PORTER.



On the morrow they[FN#199] returned to their place, as of their wont, and betook themselves to
eating and drinking and merry-making and sporting till the last of the day, when Sindbad bade
them hearken to his relation concerning his sixth voyage, the which (quoth he) is of the most
extraordinary of pleasant stories and the most startling [for that which it compriseth] of
tribulations and disasters. Then said he,





            THE SIXTH VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR.



"When I returned from my fifth voyage, I gave myself up to eating and drinking and passed my
time in solace and delight and forgot that which I had suffered of stresses and afflictions, nor was
it long before the thought of travel again presented itself to my mind and my soul hankered after
the sea. So I brought out the goods and binding up the bales, departed from Baghdad, [intending]
for certain of the lands, and came to the sea-coast, where I embarked in a stout ship, in company
with a number of other merchants of like mind with myself, and we [set out and] sailed till we
came among certain distant islands and found ourselves in difficult and dangerous case.

[One day], as the ship was sailing along, and we unknowing where we were, behold, the captain
came down [from the mast] and casting his turban from his head, fell to buffeting his face and
plucking at his beard and weeping and supplicating [God for deliverance]. We asked him what
ailed him, and he answered, saying, 'Know, O my masters, that the ship is fallen among shallows
and drifteth upon a sand-bank of the sea. Another moment [and we shall be upon it]. If we clear
the bank, [well and good]; else, we are all dead men and not one of us will be saved; wherefore
pray ye to God the Most High, so haply He may deliver us from these deadly perils, or we shall
lose our lives.' So saying, he mounted [the mast] and set the sail, but at that moment a contrary
wind smote the ship, and it rose upon the crest of the waves and sank down again into the trough
of the sea.

Now there was before us a high mountain,[FN#200] rising [abruptly] from the sea, and the ship
fell off into an eddy,[FN#201] which bore it on till presently it struck upon the skirt[FN#202] of
the mountain and broke in sunder; whereupon the captain came down [from the mast], weeping,
and said, 'God's will be done! Take leave of one another and look yourselves out graves from
to-day, for we have fallen into a predicament[FN#203] from which there is no escape, and never
yet hath any been cast away here and come off alive.' So all the folk fell a-weeping and gave
themselves up for lost, despairing of deliverance; friend took leave of friend and sore was the
mourning and lamentation; for that hope was cut off and they were left without guide or
pilot.[FN#204] Then all who were in the ship landed on the skirt of the mountain and found
themselves on a long island, whose shores were strewn with [wrecks], beyond count or
reckoning, [of] ships that had been cast away [there] and whose crews had perished; and there
also were dry bones and dead bodies, heaped upon one another, and goods without number and
riches past count So we abode confounded, drunken, amazed, humbling ourselves [in supplication
to God] and repenting us [of having exposed ourselves to the perils of travel]; but repentance
availed not in that place.

In this island is a river of very sweet water, issuing from the shore of the sea and entering in at a
wide cavern in the skirt of an inaccessible mountain, and the stones of the island are all limpid
sparkling crystal and jacinths of price. Therein also is a spring of liquid, welling up like [molten]
pitch, and when it cometh to the shore of the island, the fish swallow it, then return and cast it up,
and it becometh changed from its condition and that which it was aforetime; and it is crude
ambergris. Moreover, the trees of the island are all of the most precious aloes-wood, both Chinese
and Comorin; but there is no way of issue from the place, for it is as an abyss midmost the sea; the
steepness of its shore forbiddeth the drawing up of ships, and if any approach the mountain, they
fall into the eddy aforesaid; nor is there any resource[FN#205] in that island.

So we abode there, daily expecting death, and whoso of us had with him a day's victual ate it in
five days, and after this he died; and whoso had with him a month's victual ate it in five months
and died also. As for me, I had with me great plenty of victual; so I buried it in a certain place and
brought it out, [little by little,] and fed on it; and we ceased not to be thus, burying one the other,
till all died but myself and I abode alone, having buried the last of my companions, and but little
victual remained to me. So I said in myself, 'Who will bury me in this place?' And I dug me a
grave and abode in expectation of death, for that I was in a state of exhaustion. Then, of the
excess of my repentance, I blamed and reproached myself for my much [love of] travel and said,
'How long wilt thou thus imperil thyself?' And I abode as I were a madman, unable to rest; but, as
I was thus melancholy and distracted, God the Most High inspired me with an idea, and it was
that I looked at the river aforesaid, as it entered in at the mouth of the cavern in the skirt of the
mountain, and said in myself, 'Needs must this water have issue in some place.'

So I arose and gathering wood and planks from the wrecks, wrought of them the semblance of a
boat [to wit, a raft,] and bound it fast with ropes, saying, 'I will embark thereon and fare with this
water into the inward of the mountain. If it bring me to the mainland or to a place where I may
find relief and safety, [well and good]; else I shall [but] perish, even as my companions have
perished.' Then I collected of the riches and gold and precious stuffs, cast up there, whose owners
had perished, a great matter, and of jacinths and crude ambergris and emeralds somewhat past
count, and laid all this on the raft [together with what was left me of victual]. Then I launched it
on the river and seating myself upon it, put my trust in God the Most High and committed myself
to the stream.

The raft fared on with me, running along the surface of the river, and entered into the inward of
the mountain, where the light of day forsook me and I abode dazed and stupefied, unknowing
whither I went. Whenas I hungered, I ate a little of the victual I had with me, till it was all spent
and I abode expecting the mercy of the Lord of all creatures.[FN#206] Presently I found myself in
a strait [channel] in the darkness and my head rubbed against the roof of the cave; and in this case
I abode awhile, knowing not night from day, whilst anon the channel grew straiter and anon
widened out; and whenas my breast was straitened and I was confounded at my case, sleep took
me and I knew neither little nor much.

When I awoke and opened my eyes, I found myself [in the open air] and the raft moored to the
bank of the stream, whilst about me were folk of the blacks of Hind. When they saw that I was
awake, they came up to me, to question me; so I rose to them and saluted them. They bespoke me
in a tongue I knew not, whilst I deemed myself in a dream, and for the excess of my joy, I was
like to fly and my reason refused to obey me. Then there came to my mind the verses of the poet
and I recited, saying:

Let destiny with loosened rein its course appointed fare And lie thou down to sleep by night, with
     heart devoid of care;
For 'twixt the closing of an eye and th'opening thereof, God hath it in His power to change a case
     from foul to fair.

When they heard me speak in Arabic, one of them came up to me and saluting me [in that
language], questioned me of my case. Quoth I, 'What [manner of men] are ye and what country is
this?' 'O my brother,' answered he, 'we are husbandmen and come to this river, to draw water,
wherewithal to water our fields; and whilst we were thus engaged to-day, as of wont, this boat
appeared to us on the surface of the water, issuing from the inward of yonder mountain. So we
came to it and finding thee asleep therein, moored it to the shore, against thou shouldst awake.
Acquaint us, therefore, with thy history and tell us how thou camest hither and whence thou
enteredst this river and what land is behind yonder mountain, for that we have never till now
known any make his way thence to us.' But I said to them, 'Give me somewhat to eat and after
question me.' So they brought me food and I ate and my spirits revived and I was refreshed. Then
I related to them all that had befallen me, whereat they were amazed and confounded and said, 'By
Allah, this is none other than a marvellous story, and needs must we carry thee to our king, that
thou mayst acquaint him therewith.' So they carried me before their king, and I kissed his hand
and saluted him.

Now he was the king of the land of Serendib,[FN#207] and he welcomed me and entreated me
with kindness, bidding me be seated and admitting me to his table and converse. So I talked with
him and called down blessings upon him and he took pleasure in my discourse and showed me
satisfaction and said to me, 'What is thy name?' 'O my lord,' answered I, 'my name is Sindbad the
Sailor;' and he said, 'And what countryman art thou?' Quoth I, 'I am of Baghdad.' 'And how
earnest thou hither?' asked he. So I told him my story and he marvelled mightily thereat and said,
'By Allah, O Sindbad, this thy story is marvellous and it behoveth that it be written in characters
of gold.'

Then they brought the raft before him and I said to him, 'O my lord, I am in thy hands, I and all
my good.' He looked at the raft and seeing therein jacinths and emeralds and crude ambergris, the
like whereof was not in his treasuries, marvelled and was amazed at this. Then said he, 'O
Sindbad, God forbid that we should covet that which God the Most High hath vouchsafed unto
thee! Nay, it behoveth us rather to further thee on thy return to thine own country.' So I called
down blessings on him and thanked him. Then he signed to one of his attendants, who took me
and established me in a goodly lodging, and the king assigned me a daily allowance and pages to
wait on me. And every day I used to go in to him and he entertained me and entreated me friendly
and delighted in my converse; and as often as our assembly broke up, I went out and walked
about the town and the island, diverting myself by viewing them.

Now this island is under the Equinoctial line; its night is still twelve hours and its day the like. Its
length is fourscore parasangs and its breadth thirty, and it is a great island, stretching between a
lofty mountain and a deep valley. This mountain is visible at a distance of three days' journey and
therein are various kinds of jacinths and other precious stones and metals of all kinds and all
manner spice-trees, and its soil is of emery, wherewith jewels are wrought. In its streams are
diamonds, and pearls are in its rivers.[FN#208] I ascended to its summit and diverted myself by
viewing all the marvels therein, which are such as beggar description; after which I returned to the
king and sought of him permission to return to my own country. He gave me leave, after great
pressure, and bestowed on me abundant largesse from his treasuries. Moreover, he gave me a
present and a sealed letter and said to me, 'Carry this to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid and salute
him for us with abundant salutation.' And I said, 'I hear and obey.'

Now this letter was written with ultramarine upon the skin of the hog-deer, the which is goodlier
than parchment or paper and inclineth unto yellow, and was to the following effect: 'From the
King of Hind, before whom are a thousand elephants and on the battlements of his palace a
thousand jewels, [to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, greeting]. To proceed:[FN#209] we send thee
some small matter of presents, which do thou accept and be to us as a brother and a friend, for
that the love of thee aboundeth in our heart and we would have thee to know that we look to thee
for an answer. Indeed, we are sharers with thee in love and fear, ceasing[FN#210] never to do
thee honour; and for a beginning, we send thee the Book of the Quintessence of Balms and a
present after the measure of that which is fallen to our lot. Indeed, this is unworthy of thy rank,
but we beseech thee, O brother, to favour us by accepting it, and peace be on thee!'

Now this present was a cup of ruby, a span high and a finger's length broad, full of fine pearls,
each a mithcal[FN#211] in weight and a bed covered with the skin of the serpent that swalloweth
the elephant, marked with spots, each the bigness of a dinar, whereon whoso sitteth shall never
sicken; also an hundred thousand mithcals of Indian aloes-wood and thirty grains of camphor,
each the bigness of a pistachio-nut, and a slave-girl with her paraphernalia, a charming creature, as
she were the resplendent moon. Then the king took leave of me, commending me to the
merchants and the captain of the ship, and I set out, with that which was entrusted to my charge
and my own good, and we ceased not to pass from island to island and from country to country,
till we came to Baghdad, when I entered my house and foregathered with my family and brethren.

Then I took the present and a token of service from myself to the Khalif and [presenting myself
before him], kissed his hands and laid the whole before him, together with the King of Hind's
letter. He read the letter and taking the present, rejoiced therein with an exceeding joy and
entreated me with the utmost honour. Then said he to me, 'O Sindbad, is this king, indeed, such as
he avoucheth in this letter?' I kissed the earth and answered, saying, 'O my lord, I myself have
seen the greatness of his kingship to be manifold that which he avoucheth in his letter. On the day
of his audience,[FN#212] there is set up for him a throne on the back of a huge elephant, eleven
cubits high, whereon he sitteth and with him are his officers and pages and session-mates,
standing in two ranks on his right hand and on his left. At his head standeth a man, having in his
hand a golden javelin, and behind him another, bearing a mace of the same metal, tipped with an
emerald, a span long and an inch thick. When he mounteth, a thousand riders take horse with him,
arrayed in gold and silk; and whenas he rideth forth, he who is before him proclaimeth and saith,
"This is the king, mighty of estate and high of dominion!" And he proceedeth to praise him on this
wise and endeth by saying, "This is the king, lord of the crown the like whereof nor
Solomon[FN#213] nor Mihraj[FN#214] possessed!" Then is he silent, whilst he who is behind the
king proclaimeth and saith, "He shall die! He shall die! And again I say, he shall die!" And the
other rejoineth, saying, "Extolled be the perfection of the Living One who dieth not!" And by
reason of his justice and judgment[FN#215] and understanding, there is no Cadi in his [capital]
city; but all the people of his realm distinguish truth from falsehood and know [and practise] truth
and right for themselves.'

The Khalif marvelled at my speech and said, 'How great is this king! Indeed, his letter testifieth of
him; and as for the magnificence of his dominion, thou hast acquainted us with that which thou
hast seen; so, by Allah, he hath been given both wisdom and dominion.' Then he bestowed on me
largesse and dismissed me, so I returned to my house and paid the poor-rate[FN#216] and gave
alms and abode in my former easy and pleasant case, forgetting the grievous stresses I had
suffered. Yea, I cast out from my heart the cares of travel and traffic and put away travail from
my thought and gave myself up to eating and drinking and pleasure and delight."





           SINDBAD THE SAILOR AND HINDBAD THE PORTER.



When Sindbad the Sailor had made an end of his story, all who were present marvelled at that
which had befallen him. Then he bade his treasurer give the porter an hundred mithcals of gold
and dismissed him, charging him return on the morrow, with the rest of the folk, to hear the
history of his seventh voyage. So the porter went away to his house, rejoicing; and on the morrow
he presented himself with the rest of the guests, who sat down, as of their wont, and occupied
themselves with eating and drinking and merry-making till the end of the day, when their host
bade them hearken to the story of his seventh voyage. Quoth Sindbad the Sailor,






           THE SEVENTH VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR.



"When I [returned from my sixth voyage, I] forswore travel and renounced commerce, saying in
myself, 'What hath befallen me sufficeth me.' So I abode at home and passed my time in pleasance
and delight, till, one day, as I sat at mine ease, plying the wine-cup [with my friends], there came a
knocking at the door. The doorkeeper opened and found without one of the Khalif's pages, who
came in to me and said, 'The Commander of the Faithful biddeth thee to him.' So I accompanied
him to the presence of the Khalif and kissing the earth before him, saluted him. He bade me
welcome and entreated me with honour and said to me, 'O Sindbad, I have an occasion with thee,
which I would have thee accomplish for me.' So I kissed his hand and said, 'O my lord, what is the
lord's occasion with the slave?' Quoth he, 'I would have thee go to the King of Serendib and carry
him our letter and our present, even as he sent us a present and a letter.'

At this I trembled and replied, 'By the Most Great God, O my lord, I have taken a loathing to
travel, and whenas any maketh mention to me of travel by sea or otherwise, I am like to swoon
for affright, by reason of that which hath befallen me and what I have suffered of hardships and
perils. Indeed, I have no jot of inclination left for this, and I have sworn never again to leave
Baghdad.' And I related to him all that had befallen me, first and last; whereat he marvelled
exceedingly and said, 'By the Most Great God, O Sindbad, never was heard from time
immemorial of one whom there betided that which hath betided thee and well may it behove thee
never again to mention travel! But for my sake go thou this once and carry my letter to the King
of Serendib and return in haste, if it be the will of God the Most High, so we may not remain
indebted to the king for favour and courtesy.' And I answered him with 'Hearkening and
obedience,' for that I dared not gainsay his commandment

Then he gave me the present and letter and money for my expenses. So I kissed his hand and
going out from before him, repaired to the sea-coast, where I took ship with many other
merchants and we sailed days and nights, till, after a prosperous voyage, God vouchsafed us a
safe arrival at the island of Serendib. We landed and went up to the city, where I carried the letter
and present to the king and kissing the earth fell [prostrate before him], invoking blessings on him.
When he saw me, 'Welcome to thee, O Sindbad!' quoth he. 'By the Most Great God, we have
longed for thy sight and the day is blessed on which we behold thee once more.' Then he took my
hand and seating me by his side, welcomed me and entreated me friendly and rejoiced in me with
an exceeding joy; after which he fell to conversing with me and caressing me and said, 'What
brings thee to us, O Sindbad?' I kissed his hand and thanking him, said, 'O my lord, I bring thee a
present and a letter from my lord the Khalif Haroun er Reshid.' Then I brought out to him the
present and the letter and he read the latter and accepted the former, rejoicing therein with an
exceeding joy.

Now this present was a horse worth ten thousand dinars and all its housings and trappings of gold
set with jewels, and a book and five different kinds of suits of apparel and an hundred pieces of
fine white linen cloths of Egypt and silks of Suez and Cufa and Alexandria and a crimson carpet
and another of Tebaristan[FN#217] make and an hundred pieces of cloth of silk and flax mingled
and a goblet of glass of the time of the Pharaohs, a finger-breadth thick and a span wide,
amiddleward which was the figure of a lion and before him an archer kneeling, with his arrow
drawn to the head, and the table of Solomon son of David,[FN#218] on whom be peace; and the
contents of the letter were as follows: 'From the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, unto whom and to his
forefathers (on whom be peace) God hath vouchsafed the rank of the noble and exceeding glory,
to the august, God-aided Sultan, greeting. Thy letter hath reached us and we rejoiced therein and
have sent thee the book [called] "The Divan of Hearts and the Garden of Wits," of the translation
whereof when thou hast taken cognizance, its excellence will be established in thine eyes; and the
superscription of this book we have made unto thee. Moreover, we send thee divers other kingly
presents;[FN#219] so do thou favour us by accepting them, and peace be on thee!'

When the king had read this letter, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and bestowed on me great
store of presents and entreated me with the utmost honour. Some days after this, I sought of him
leave to depart, but he granted it not to me save after much pressing. So I took leave of him and
shipped with divers merchants and others, intending for my own country and having no desire for
travel or traffic. We sailed on, without ceasing, till we had passed many islands; but, one day, as
we fared on over a certain tract of the sea, there came forth upon us a multitude of boats full of
men like devils, clad in chain-mail and armed with swords and daggers and bows and arrows, and
surrounded us on every side. They entreated us after the cruellest fashion, smiting and wounding
and slaying those who made head against them, and taking the ship, with the crew and all that
were therein, carried us to an island, where they sold us all for a low price. A rich man bought me
and taking me into his house, gave me to eat and drink and clothed me and entreated me kindly,
till my heart was comforted and I was somewhat restored.

One day my master said to me, 'Knowest thou not some art or handicraft?' And I answered,
saying, 'O my lord, I am a merchant and know nought but traffic.' Quoth he, 'Knowest thou how
to shoot with a bow and arrows?' And I replied, 'Yes, I know that.' So he brought me a bow and
arrows and mounting me behind him on an elephant, set out with me, at the last of the night, and
fared on till we came to a forest of great trees; whereupon he made me climb a high and stout tree
and giving me the bow and arrows, said to me, 'Sit here, and when the elephants come hither by
day, shoot at them, so haply thou shalt hit one of them; and if any of them fall, come at nightfall
and tell me.' Then he went away and left me trembling and fearful. I abode hidden in the tree till
the sun rose, when the elephants came out and fared hither and thither among the trees, and I
gave not over shooting at them with arrows, till I brought down one of them. So, at eventide, I
went and told my master, who rejoiced in me and rewarded me; then he came and carried away
the dead elephant.

On this wise I abode a while of time, every day shooting an elephant, whereupon my master came
and carried it away, till, one day, as I sat hidden in the tree, there came up elephants without
number, roaring and trumpeting, so that meseemed the earth trembled for the din. They all made
for the tree whereon I was and the girth whereof was fifty cubits, and compassed it about. Then a
huge elephant came up to the tree and winding his trunk about it, tugged at it, till he plucked it up
by the roots and cast it to the ground. I fell among the elephants, and the great elephant, coming
up to me, as I lay aswoon for affright, wound his trunk about me and tossing me on to his back,
made off with me, accompanied by the others; nor did he leave faring on with me, and I absent
from the world, till he brought me to a certain place and casting me down from off his back, went
away, followed by the rest. I lay there awhile, till my trouble subsided and my senses returned to
me, when I sat up, deeming myself in a dream, and found myself on a great hill, stretching far and
wide and all of elephants' bones. So I knew that this was their burial-place and that they had
brought me thither on account of the bones.

Then I arose and fared on a day and a night, till I came to the house of my master, who saw me
pale and disfeatured for fear and hunger. He rejoiced in my return and said to me, 'By Allah, thou
hast made my heart ache on thine account; for I went and finding the tree torn up by the roots,
doubted not but the elephants had destroyed thee. Tell me then how it was with thee.' So I told
him what had befallen me and he marvelled exceedingly and rejoiced, saying, 'Knowst thou where
this hill is?' 'Yes, O my lord,' answered I. So he took me up with him on an elephant and we rode
till we came to the elephants' burial-place.

When he saw those many bones, he rejoiced therein with an exceeding joy and carried away what
he had a mind to thereof. Then we returned to his house and he entreated me with increased
favour and said to me, 'Verily, O my son, thou hast directed us to a passing great gain, may God
requite thee with all good! Thou art free for the sake of God the Most High. Every year these
elephants used to kill of us much people on account of these bones; but God delivered thee from
them and thou hast done us good service in the matter of these bones, of which thou hast given us
to know; wherefore thou meritest a great recompense, and thou art free.' 'O my lord,' answered I,
'may God free thy neck from the fire! I desire of thee that thou give me leave to return to my own
country.' 'So be it,' replied he; 'but we have a fair, on occasion whereof the merchants come hither
to us and take of us these elephants' bones. The time of the fair is now at hand, and when they
come to us, I will send thee with them and give thee somewhat to bring thee to thine own
country.'

I blessed him and thanked him and abode with him in all honour and consideration, till, after a
little, the merchants came, even as he had said, and bought and sold and bartered; and when they
were about to depart, my master came to me and said, 'The merchants are about to depart; arise,
that thou mayst go with them to thy country.' So I betook myself to the folk, and behold, they had
bought great store of elephants' bones and bound up their loads and embarked in the ship; and my
master took passage for me with them and paid my hire and all that was chargeable upon
me.[FN#220] Moreover, he gave me great store of goods and we set sail and passed from island
to island, till we traversed the sea and arrived at the port of our destination; whereupon the
merchants brought out their goods and sold; and I also brought out that which was with me and
sold it at a good profit.

Then I bought of the best and finest of the produce and rarities of the country and all I had a mind
to and a good hackney[FN#221] and we set out again and traversed the deserts from country to
country till we came to Baghdad. Then I went in to the Khalif and saluted him and kissed his
hand; after which I acquainted him with all that had passed and that which had befallen me. He
rejoiced in my deliverance and thanked God the Most High; then he caused write my story in
letters of gold and I betook myself to my house and foregathered with my brethren and family.
This, then," added Sindbad, "is the last of that which befell me in my travels, and praise be to
God, the One, the Creator, the Maker!"

When Sindbad the Sailor had made an end of his story, he bade his servant give the porter an
hundred mithcals of gold and said to him, "How now, my brother! Hast ever in the world heard of
one whom such calamities have betided as have betided me and hath any suffered that which I
have suffered of afflictions or undergone that which I have undergone of hardships? Wherefore it
behoveth that I have these pleasures in requital of that which I have undergone of travail and
humiliations." So the porter came forward and kissing the merchant's hands, said to him, "O my
lord, thou hast indeed suffered grievous perils and hast well deserved these bounteous favours
[that God hath vouchsafed thee]. Abide, then, O my lord, in thy delights and put away from thee
[the remembrance of] thy troubles; and may God the Most High crown thine enjoyments with
perfection and accomplish thy days in pleasance until the hour of thine admission [to His mercy]!"

Therewithal Sindbad the Sailor bestowed largesse upon him and made him his boon-companion,
and he abode, leaving him not night or day, to the last of their lives. Praise be to God the
Glorious, the Omnipotent, the Strong, the Exalted of estate, Creator of heaven and earth and land
and sea, to whom belongeth glorification! Amen. Amen. Praise be to God, the Lord of the
Worlds! Amen.





                             NOTE.



As stated In the Prefatory Note to my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," four
printed Editions (of which three are more or less complete) exist of the Arabic text of the original
work, namely those of Calcutta (1839-42), Boulac (Cairo), Breslau (Tunis) and Calcutta
(1814-18). The first two are, for purposes of tabulation, practically identical, one whole story
only,[FN#222] of those that occur in the Calcutta (1839-42) Edition, (which is the most complete
of all,) being omitted from that of Boulac; and I have, therefore, given but one Table of Contents
for these two Editions. The Breslau Edition, though differing widely from those of Calcutta
(1839-42) and Boulac in contents, resembles them in containing the full number (a thousand and
one) of Nights, whilst that of Calcutta (1814-18) is but a fragment, comprising only the first two
hundred Nights and the Voyages of Sindbad, as a separate Tale.

The subscribers to my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night" and the present "Tales from
the Arabic" have now before them a complete English rendering (the first ever made) of all the
tales contained in the four printed (Arabic) Texts of the original work and I have, therefore,
thought it well to add to this, the last Volume of my Translation, full Tables of Contents of these
latter, a comparison of which will show the exact composition of the different Editions and the
particulars in which they differ from one another, together with the manner in which the various
stories that make up the respective collections are distributed over the Nights. In each Table, the
titles of the stories occurring only in the Edition of which it gives the contents are printed in
Italics and each Tale is referred to the number of the Night on which it is begun.

The Breslau Edition, which was printed from a Manuscript of the Book of the Thousand Nights
and One Night alleged to have been furnished to the Editor by a learned Arab of Tunis, whom he
styles "Herr M. Annaggar" (Quære En Nejjar, the Carpenter), the lacunes found in which were
supplemented from various other MS. sources indicated by Silvestre de Sacy and other eminent
Orientalists, is edited with a perfection of badness to which only German scholars (at once the
best and worst editors in the world) can attain. The original Editor, Dr. Maximilian Habicht, was
during the period (1825- 1839) of publication of the first eight Volumes, engaged in continual and
somewhat acrimonious[FN#223] controversy concerning the details of his editorship with Prof.
H. L. Fleischer, who, after his death, undertook the completion of his task and approved himself a
worthy successor of his whilom adversary, his laches and shortcomings in the matter of revision
and collation of the text being at least equal in extent and gravity to those of his predecessor,
whilst he omitted the one valuable feature of the latter's work, namely, the glossary of Arabic
words, not occurring in the dictionaries, appended to the earlier volumes.

As an instance of the extreme looseness with which the book was edited, I may observe that the
first four Vols. were published without tables of contents, which were afterwards appended en
bloc to the fifth Volume. The state of corruption and incoherence in which the printed Text was
placed before the public by the two learned Editors, who were responsible for its production, is
such as might well drive a translator to despair: the uncorrected errors of the press would alone
fill a volume and the verse especially is so corrupt that one of the most laborious of English
Arabic scholars pronounced its translation a hopeless task. I have not, however, in any single
instance, allowed myself to be discouraged by the difficulties presented by the condition of the
text, but have, to the best of my ability, rendered into English, without abridgment or
retrenchment, the whole of the tales, prose and verse, contained in the Breslau Edition, which are
not found in those of Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac. In this somewhat ungrateful task, I have
again had the cordial assistance of Captain Burton, who has (as in the case of my "Book of the
Thousand Nights and One Night") been kind enough to look over the proofs of my translation and
to whom I beg once more to tender my warmest thanks.

Some misconception seems to exist as to the story of Seif dhoul Yezen, a fragment of which was
translated by Dr. Habicht and included, with a number of tales from the Breslau Text, in the
fourteenth Vol. of the extraordinary gallimaufry published by him in 1824-5 as a complete
translation of the 1001 Nights[FN#224] and it has, under the mistaken impression that this long
but interesting Romance forms part of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, been
suggested that a complete translation of it should be included in the present publication. The
Romance in question does not, however, in any way, belong to my original and forms no part of
the Breslau Text, as will be at once apparent from an examination of the Table of Contents of the
latter (see post, p. 261), by which all the Nights are accounted for. Dr. Habicht himself tells us, in
his preface to the first Vol. of the Arabic Text, that he found the fragment (undivided into Nights)
at the end of the fifth Volume of his MS., into which other detached tales, having no connection
with the Nights, appear to have also found their way. This being the case, it is evident that the
Romance of Seif dhoul Yezen in no way comes within the scope of the present work and would
(apart from the fact that its length would far overpass my limits) be a manifestly improper addition
to it. It is, however, possible that, should I come across a suitable text of the work, I may make it
the subject of a separate publication; but this is, of course, a matter for future consideration.





          TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE CALCUTTA (1839-42)
           AND BOULAC EDITIONS OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF
            THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE
                             NIGHT.



                                                          Night

INTRODUCTION.--Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother.
          a. Story of the Ox and the Ass
     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i
          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . .i
          b. The Second Old Man's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . ii
          c. The Third Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . ii
     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . .iii
          a. Story of the Physician Douban . . . . . . . . . . iv
               aa. Story of King Sindbad and his Falcon. . . . .v
               ab. Story of the King's Son and the Ogress. . . .v
          b. Story of the Enchanted Youth. . . . . . . . . . .vii
     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . . . ix
          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . xi
          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . .xii
               ba. Story of the Envier and the Envied[FN#225]xiii
          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . .xiv
          d. The Eldest Lady's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii
          e. The Story of the Portress . . . . . . . . . . .xviii
     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xix
     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan. . xx
     6. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xxv
          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . .xxv
          b. The Controller's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . .xxvii
          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . xxviii
          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxix
          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxxi
               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . xxxi
               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. . . xxxi
               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . .xxxii
               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . .xxxii
               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . .xxxii
               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . xxxiii
     7. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelis . . . . .xxxiv
     8. Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love . . . . . . . . .xxxix
          a. Story of the Eunuch Bekhit. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix
          b. Story of the Eunuch Kafour. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix
     9. The History of King Omar ben Ennuman and his Sons Sherkan and Zoulmekanxlv
          a. Story of Taj el Mulouk and the Princess Dunya . cvii
               aa. Story of Aziz and Azizeh. . . . . . . . cxliii
          b. Bakoun's Story of the Hashish-Eater . . . . . cxliii
          c. Hemmad the Bedouin's Story. . . . . . . . . . .cxliv
     10. The Birds and Beasts and the Son of Adam. . . . . .cxlvi
     11. The Hermits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlviii
     12. The Waterfowl and the Tortoise. . . . . . . . . .cxlviii
     13. The Wolf and the Fox. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlviii
          a. The Hawk and the Partridge. . . . . . . . . . .cxlix
     14. The Mouse and the Weasel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl
     15. The Cat and the Crow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl
     16. The Fox and the Crow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl
          a. The Mouse and the Flea. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cli
          b. The Falcon and the Birds. . . . . . . . . . . . clii
          c. The Sparrow and the Eagle . . . . . . . . . . . clii
     17. The Hedgehog and the Pigeons. . . . . . . . . . . . clii
          a. The Merchant and the Two Sharpers . . . . . . . clii
     18. The Thief and his Monkey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . clii
          a. The Foolish Weaver. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . clii
     19. The Sparrow and the Peacock . . . . . . . . . . . . clii
     20. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar . . . . . . . . . .cliii
     21. Kemerezzeman and Budour . . . . . . . . . . . . . . clxx
          a. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl . ccxxxvii
     22. Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccl
     23. Hatim et Tal; his Generosity after Death. . . . . .cclxx
     24. Maan ben Zaideh and the three Girls . . . . . . . cclxxi
     25. Maan ben Zaideh and the Bedouin . . . . . . . . . cclxxi
     26. The City of Lebtait . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cclxxii
     27. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth. . . . . . . cclxxi
     28. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber-surgeon . . cclxxiii
     29. The City of Irem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cclxxvi
     30. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamouncclxxix
     31. The Scavenger and the Noble Lady of Baghdad . . cclxxxii
     32. The Mock Khalif . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cclxxxvi
     33. Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper. . . . . . . ccxciv
     34. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier Jaaferccxcvi
     35. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress's Honourccxcvii
     36. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Bean-Seller. . . . . ccxcix
     37. Abou Mohammed the Lazy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccc
     38. Yehya ben Khalid and Mensour. . . . . . . . . . . . .ccv
     39. Yehya ben Khalid and the Man who forged a Letter in his Nameccvi
     40. The Khalif El Mamoun and the Strange Doctor . . . .cccvi
     41. Ali Shar and Zumurrud . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccvii
     42. The Loves of Jubeir ben Umeir and the Lady Budourcccxxvii
     43. The Man of Yemen and his six Slave-girls. . . . cccxxxiv
     44. Haroun er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwascccxxxviii
     45. The Man who stole the Dog's Dish of Gold. . . . . .cccxl
     46. The Sharper of Alexandria and the Master of Policecccxli
     47. El Melik en Nasir and the three Masters of Policecccxliii
          a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police. cccxliii
          b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police . . .cccxliv
          c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police. .cccxliv
     48. The Thief and the Money-Changer . . . . . . . . . ccxliv
     49. The Chief of the Cous Police and the Sharper. . . cccxlv
     50. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister  Night ccxlvi
     51. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgivingcccxlviii
     52. The Devout Israelite. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccxlviii
     53. Abou Hassan es Ziyadi and the Man from Khorassan  Night ccxlix
     54. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend. . . . . . . .cccli
     55. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dreamcccli
     56. El Mutawekkil and his Favourite Mehboubeh . . . . .cccli
     57. Werdan the Butcher's Adventure with the Lady and the Bearcccliii
     58. The King's Daughter and the Ape . . . . . . . . . .ccclv
     59. The Enchanted Horse  Night  . . . . . . . . . . . cclvii
     60. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose-in-budccclxxi
     61. Abou Nuwas with the three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er Reshidccclxxxi
     62. Abdallah ben Maamer with the Man of Bassora and his Slave-girlccclxxxiii
     63. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh. . . . . . . . ccclxxxiii
     64. Tht Vizier of Yemen and his young Brother . . .ccclxxxiv
     65. The Loves of the Boy and Girl at School . . . . ccclxxxv
     66. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh. . . . . . . ccclxxxv
     67. Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath . . . ccclxxxv
     68. Haroun er Reshid and the three Poets. . . . . .ccclxxxvi
     69. Musab ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife. . . .ccclxxxvi
     70. Aboulaswed and his squinting Slave-girl . . . ccclxxxvii
     71. Haroun er Reshid and the two Girls. . . . . . ccclxxxvii
     72. Haroun er Reshid and the three Girls. . . . . ccclxxxvii
     73. The Miller and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . ccclxxxvii
     74. The Simpleton and the Sharper . . . . . . . .ccclxxxviii
     75. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshld and Zubeidehccclxxxviii
     76. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant. . . . . .ccclxxxix
     77. King Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel .ccclxxxix
     78. The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife. . . . .cccxc
     79. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman. . . . . . . cccxci
     80. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man . . . . . . . . cccxci
     81. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafer ben el Hadi . . . . .cccxcii
     82. Said ben Salim and the Barmecides . . . . . . . .cccxcii
     83. The Woman's Trick against her Husband . . . . . cccxciii
     84. The Devout Woman and the two Wicked Elders. . . .cccxciv
     85. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Old Bedouin. . . . . cccxcv
     86. Omar ben el Khettab and the Young Bedouin . . . . cccxcv
     87. El Mamoun and the Pyramids of Egypt . . . . . .cccxcviii
     88. The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief .cccxcviii
     89. Mesrour and Ibn el Caribi . . . . . . . . . . . .cccxcix
     90. The Devout Prince . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccci
     91. The Schoolmaster who Fell in Love by Report . . . ccccii
     92. The Foolish Schoolmaster. . . . . . . . . . . . .cccciii
     93. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster. .cccciii
     94. The King and the Virtuous Wife. . . . . . . . . . cccciv
     95. Abdurrehman the Moor's Story of the Roc . . . . . cccciv
     96. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind. . . . . . . . .ccccv
     97. Dibil el Khuzai with the Lady and Muslin ben el Welidccccvii
     98. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant . . . . . . . . .ccccvii
     99. The Three Unfortunate Lovers. . . . . . . . . . . ccccix
     100. The Lovers of the Benou Tai. . . . . . . . . . . .ccccx
     101. The Mad Lover. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxi
     102. The Apples of Paradise . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccccxii
     103. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain. . . . .ccccxiv
     104. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi . .ccccxviii
     105. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil . . . . . .ccccxix
     106. The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the relative Excellence of the
          Sexes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccccxix
     107. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman . . . .ccccxxiii
     108. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis. . . . . . . ccccxxiv
     109. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to Loverccccxxiv
     110. The Haunted House in Baghdad . . . . . . . . . ccccxxiv
     111. The Pilgrim and the Old Woman who dwelt in the Desertccccxxxiv
     112. Aboulhusn and his Slave-girl Taweddud. . . . .ccccxxxvi
     113. The Angel of Death with the Proud King and the Devout Mancccclxii
     114. The Angel of Death and the Rich King . . . . . cccclxii
     115. The Angel of Death and the King of the Children of Israelcccclxiii
     116. Iskender Dhoulkernein and a certain Tribe of Poor Folkcccclxiv
     117. The Righteousness of King Anoushirwan. . . . . cccclxiv
     118. The Jewish Cadi and his Pious Wife . . . . . . .cccclxv
     119. The Shipwrecked Woman and her Child. . . . . . cccclxvi
     120. The Pious Black Slave. . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxvii
     121. The Devout Platter-maker and his Wife. . . . cccclxviii
     122. El Hejjaj ben Yousuf and the Pious Man . . . . .cccclxx
     123. The Blacksmith who could Handle Fire without Hurtcccclxxi
     124. The Saint to whom God gave a Cloud to serve him and the Devout Kingcccclxxiii
     125. The Muslim Champion and the Christian Lady . .cccclxxiv
     126. Ibrahim ben el Khawwas and the Christian King's Daughtercccclxxvii
     127. The Justice of Providence. . . . . . . . . .cccclxxviii
     128. The Ferryman of the Nile and the Hermit. . . .cccclxxix
     129. The King of the Island . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxxix
     130. Abulhusn ed Durraj and Abou Jaafer the Leper .cccclxxxi
     131. The Queen of the Serpents. . . . . . . . . . cccclxxxii
          a. The Adventures of Beloukiya . . . . . . . cccclxxxvi
          b. The Story of Janshah. . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxcix
     132. Sindbad the Sailor and Sindbad the Porter. . . . dxxxvi
          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . dxxxviii
          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . dxliii
          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . .dxlvi
          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . . . dl
          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . dlvi
          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . dlix
          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . dlxiii
     133. The City of Brass. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxvi
     134. The Malice of Women. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dlxxviii
          a. The King and his Vizier's Wife. . . . . . . dlxxviii
          b. The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot. . . . . . dlxxix
          c. The Fuller and his Son. . . . . . . . . . . . dlxxix
          d. The Lover's Trick against the Chaste Wife . . .dlxxx
          e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread . . . . . .dlxxx
          f. The Lady and her Two Lovers . . . . . . . . . dlxxxi
          g. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . . . dlxxxi
          h. The Drop of Honey . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxxxii
          i. The Woman who made her Husband sift Dust. . .dlxxxii
          j. The Enchanted Springs . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxxxii
          k. The Vizier's Son and the Bathkeeper's Wife. .dlxxxiv
          l. The Wife's Device to Cheat her Husband. . . .dlxxxiv
          m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing- girl.dlxxxvi
          n. The Man who never Laughed again . . . . . . dlxxxvii
          o. The King's Son and the Merchant's Wife. . . . . dxci
          p. The Page who feigned to know the Speech of Birdsdxcii
          q. The Lady and her five Suitors . . . . . . . . dxciii
          r. The Man who saw the Night of Power. . . . . . .dxcvi
          s. The Stolen Necklace . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dxcvi
          t. The two Pigeons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxcvii
          u. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detmadxcvii
          v. The House with the Belvedere. . . . . . . . .dxcviii
          w. The King's Son and the Afrit's Mistress . . . . dcii
          x. The Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers . . .dciii
          y. The Debauchee and the Three-year-old Child. . . .dcv
          z. The Stolen Purse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcv
     135. Jouder and his Brothers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcvi
     136. The History ot Gherib and his Brother Agib . . . dcxxiv
     137. Otbeh and Reyya. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxxx
     138. Hind Daughter of En Numan and El Hejjaj. . . . .dclxxxi
     139. Khuzeimeh ben Bishr and Ikrimeh el Feyyas. . . dclxxxii
     140. Younus the Scribe and the Khalif Welid ben Sehldclxxxiv
     141. Haroun er Reshid and the Arab Girl . . . . . . .dclxxxv
     142. El Asmai and the three Girls of Bassora. . . . dclxxxvi
     143. Ibrahim of Mosul and the Devil . . . . . . . .dclxxxvii
     144. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh . . . . . . . dclxxxviii
     145. The Bedouin and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxci
     146. The Lovers of Bassora. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxciii
     147. Isaac of Mosul and his Mistress and the Devil. . .dcxcr
     148. The Lovers of Medina . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxcvi
     149. El Melik en Nasir and his Vizier . . . . . . . .dcxcvii
     150. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her Daughter Zeyneb the Trickstressdcxcviii
     151. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo, a Sequel to the Rogueries of Delileh
          the Crafty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccviil
     152. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous . . . . . . . . . . .dccxu
     153. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persiaiccxxxviii
     154. King Mohammed ben Sebaik and the Merchant Hassan dcclvi
          a. Story of Prince Seif el Mulouk and the Princess Bediya el Jemal dcclviii
     155. Hassan of Bassora and the King's Daughter of the Jinndcclxxviii
     156. Khelifeh the Fisherman of Baghdad. . . . . . . cccxxxii
     157. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif. . . . . . . . . . .dcccxlv
     158. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King's Daughter. .dccclxiii
     159. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife. . . dcccxciv
     160. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl . dcccxcvi
     161. King Jelyaad of Hind and his Vizier Shimas: whereafter ensueth the History of
          King Wird Khan son of King Jelyaad and his Women and Viziersdcccxciz
          a. The Cat and the Mouse . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccoc
          b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter . . . . . . .dccccii
          c. The Fishes and the Crab . . . . . . . . . . dcccciii
          d. The Crow and the Serpent. . . . . . . . . . dcccciii
          e. The Fox and the Wild Ass. . . . . . . . . . .dcccciv
          f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince. . . . dccccv
          g. The Crows and the Hawk. . . . . . . . . . . .dccccvi
          k. The Serpent-Charmer and his Wife. . . . . . dccccvii
          i. The Spider and the Wind . . . . . . . . . .dccccviii
          j. The Two Kings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccix
          k. The Blind Man and the Cripple . . . . . . . . dccccx
          l. The Foolish Fisherman . . . . . . . . . . dccccxviii
          m. The Boy and the Thieves . . . . . . . . . dccccxviii
          n. The Man and his Wilful Wife . . . . . . . . dccccxix
          o. The Merchant and the Thieves. . . . . . . . .dccccxx
          p. The Foxes and the Wolf. . . . . . . . . . . dccccxxi
          q. The Shepherd and the Thief. . . . . . . . . dccccxxi
          r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises . . . . . .dccccxxiv
     162. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber. . . . dccccxxx
     163. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Merman .dccccxl
     164. The Merchant of Oman . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxlvi
     165. Ibrahim and Jemileh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccciii
     166. Aboulhusn of Khorassan . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccclix
     167. Kemerezzeman and the Jeweller's Wife . . . . dcccclxiii
     168. Abdallah ben Fasil and his Brothers. . . . dcccclixviii
     169. Marouf the Cobbler and his Wife Fatimeh. dcccclxxxix-Mi
Conclusion.





            TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE BRESLAU (TUNIS)
           EDITION OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF THE BOOK OF
               THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT.


                                                          Night
Introduction.--Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother.
          a. Story of the Ox and the Ass
     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i
          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . iv
          b. The Second Old Man's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . vi
          c. The Third Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . viii
     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . viii
          a. Story of the Physician Douban . . . . . . . . . . xi
               aa. Story of the Jealous Man and the Parrot[FN#226]xiv
               ab. Story of the King's Son and the Ogress. . . xv
          b. Story of the Enchanted Youth. . . . . . . . . . .xxi
     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . xxviii
          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . xxxvii
          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . . xl
               ba. The Envier and the Envied . . . . . . . . xlvi
          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . liii
          d. The Eldest Lady's Story . . . . . . . . . . . .lxiii
          e. Story of the Portress . . . . . . . . . . . . .lxvii
     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lxix
     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan.lxxii
     6. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cii
          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . cvii
          b. The Controller's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . cxix
          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . .cxxix
          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxxxvii
          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlix
               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . . ci
               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. . . cliv
               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . .clvii
               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . clviii
               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . . .clx
               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . .clxiv
     7. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar. . . . . . . . . . .clxix
     8. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelii . . . . .cxcix
     9. Kemerezzeman and Budour. . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccxviii
     10. The Enchanted Horse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccxlir
     11. The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor . . . . . . . . ccxliv
          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . .cclii
          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . ccliii
          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . cclv
          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . .cclix
          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . .cclxiii
          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . cclxvi
          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . cclxix
     12. Asleep and Awake. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cclxxi
          a. The Lackpenny and the Cook. . . . . . . . . cclxxiii
     13. Seif el Mulouk and Bediya el Jemal. . . . . . . .  ccxci
     14. Khelif the Fisherman [FN#227] . . . . . . . . . . cccxxi
     15. Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love. . . . . . . cccxxxii
          a. Story of the Eunuch Sewab [FN#228]. . . . . cccxxxiv
          b. Story of the Eunuch Kafour ,,
     16. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose- in-budcccxli
     17. The Merchant of Oman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccliv
     18. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous. . . . . . . . . . .ccclxiv
     19. Hassan of Bassora and the King's Daughter of the Jinncclxxxvi
     20. Haroun er Reshid and the three Poets. . . . . .ccccxxxii
     21. Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets. . . . . . . .ccccxxxii
     22. El Hejjaj and the three Young Mem . . . . . . .ccccxxxiv
     23. Er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides . . .ccccxxxiv
     24. The Ten Viziers; or the History of King Azad- bekht and his Sonccccxxxv
          a. The Unlucky Merchant. . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxl
          b. The Merchant and his Sons . . . . . . . . . ccccxliv
          c. Abou Sabir. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxlviii
          d. Prince Bihzad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccliii
          e. King Dadbin and his Viziers . . . . . . . . . cccclv
          f. King Bekhtzeman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxi
          g. King Bihkerd. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccclxiv
          h. Ilan Shah and Abou Temam. . . . . . . . . . cccclxvi
          i. King Ibrahim and his Son. . . . . . . . . . cccclxxi
          j. King Suleiman Shah and his Sons . . . . . . cccclxxv
          k. The Prisoner and how God gave him Relief . cccclxxxv
     25. The City of Brass . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxxxvii
     26. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl . . . . . . di
     27. Alaeddin Abou es Shamat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dxx
     28. Hatim Tai; his Generosity after Death . . . . . . .dxxxi
     29. Maan ben Zaideh and the three Girls . . . . . . . dxxxii
     30. Maan ben Zaideh and the Bedouin . . . . . . . . . dxxxii
     31. The City of Lebtait . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxxxii
     32. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth. . . . . . . dxxxiv
     33. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber-Surgeon . . . dxxxiv
     34. The City of Irem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxxxviii
     35. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamoundxl
     36. The Mock Khalif . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxliii
     37. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Jaafer. . . .dlv
     38. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress's Honourdlvii
     39. Abou Mohammed the Lazy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dlviii
     40. Jaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih . . . . . dlxv
     41. Jaafer ben Yehya [FN#229] and the Man who forged a Letter in his Namedlxvi
     42. Er Reshid and the Barmecides. . . . . . . . . . . dlxvii
     43. Ibn es Semmak and Er Reshid . . . . . . . . . . .dlxviii
     44. El Mamoun and Zubeideh. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxviii
     45. Ali Shir [FN#230] and Zumurrud. . . . . . . . . . .dlxix
     46. The Loves of Budour and Jubeir ben Umeir. . . . dlxxxvii
     47. The Man of Yemen and his six Slave-girls. . . . . . dxcv
     48. Haroun Er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas . . . dc
     49. The Man who stole the Dog's Dish of Gold. . . . . . dcii
     50. El Melik en Nasir and the Three Masters of Police .dciii
          a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police. . . dciv
          b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police . . . . .dcv
          c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police. . . .dcv
     51. The Thief and the Money-changer . . . . . . . . . . .dcv
     52. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister. . . dcvi
     53. King Kelyaad [FN#231] of Hind and his Vizier Shimas dcix
          a. The Cat and the Mouse . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcix
          b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter . . . . . . . . .dcx
          c. The Fishes and the Crab . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi
          d. The Crow and the Serpent. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi
          e. The Fox and the Wild Ass. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi
          f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince. . . . .dcxii
          g. The Crows and the Hawk. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxiii
          h. The Serpent-Charmer and his Wife. . . . . . . .dcxiv
          i. The Spider and the Wind . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxv
          j. The Two Kings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxvi
          k. The Blind Man and the Cripple . . . . . . . . .dcxvi
          l. The Foolish Fisherman . dcxxvi
          m. The Boy and the Thieves . . . . . . . . . . .dcxxvii
          n. The Man and his Wilful Wife . . . . . . . . dcxxviii
          o. The Merchant and the Thieves. . . . . . . . . dcxxix
          p. The Foxes and the Wolf. . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxxx
          q. The Shepherd and the Thief. . . . . . . . . .dcxxxii
          r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises . . . . . . .dcxxxiv
     54. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgiving .dcxli
     55. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend. . . . . . .dcxliii
     56. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dreamdcxliv
     57. Abou Nuwas with the Three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er Reshiddcxlv
     58. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh [FN#232] . . . . . dcxlvi
     59. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh. . . . . . . dcxlviii
     60. Haroun Er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath . . . dcxlviii
     61. Musab ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife. . . . . dcxlix
     62. Aboulaswed and his Squinting Slave-girl . . . . . . dcli
     63. Haroun er Reshid and the Two Girls. . . . . . . . . dcli
     64. Haroun er Reshid and the Three Girls. . . . . . . . dcli
     65. The Simpleton and the Sharper . . . . . . . . . . .dclii
     66. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Zubeideh. .dclii
     67. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant. . . . . . . dcliii
     68. Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel. . . . . dcliii
     69. The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife. . . . .dcliv
     70. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman. . . . . . . .dclvi
     71. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man . . . . . . . . .dclvi
     73. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafer ben el Hadi . . . . . dclvii
     73. The Woman's Trick against her Husband . . . . . .dclviii
     74. The Devout Woman and the Two Wicked Elders. . . . .dclix
     75 El Fezl ben Rebiya[FN#233] and the Old Bedouin . . . dclx
     76 En Numan and the Arab of the Benou Tai . . . . . . . dclx
     77 The Draper and the Thief[FN#234] . . . . . . . . . .dclxi
     78. Mesrour and Ibn el Caribi . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxii
     79. The Devout Prince . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxiv
     80. The Schoolmaster who fell in Love by Report . . . .dclxv
     81. The Foolish Schoolmaster. . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxvi
     82. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster. .dclxvii
     83. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind. . . . . . . dclxviii
     84. Dibil el Khuzai with the Lady and Muslim ben el Weliddclxx
     85. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant . . . . . . . . . .dclxx
     86. The Three Unfortunate Lovers. . . . . . . . . . .dclxxii
     87. The Lovers of the Benou Tai . . . . . . . . . . dclxxiii
     88. The Mad Lover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxiv
     89. Firous and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxxv
     90. The Apples of Paradise. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxvi
     91. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain . . . .dclxxviii
     92. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi. . . dclxxxii
     93. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil. . . . . .dclxxxiii
     94. The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the relative Excellence of
          the Sexes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxxiii
     95. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman. . . . .dclxxxvii
     96. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis . . . . . . dclxxxviii
     97. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to Loverdclxxxviii
     98. The Haunted House in Baghdad. . . . . . . . . dclxxxviii
     99. The History of Gherib and his brother Agib. . . dcxcviii
     100. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her Daughter Zeyneb the Trickstressdcclvi
     101. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo . . .dcclxvi
     102. Jouder and his Brothers. . . . . . . . . . . . .dcclxxv
     103. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persiadccxciv
     104. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif. . . . . . . . . . .dcccxxi
     105. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King's Daughter. . dcccxxxi
     106. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife. . . dccclxii
     107. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl . dccclxiv
     108. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber. . . .dccclxvii
     109. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Mermandccclxxvii
     110. King Shah Bekhi and his Vizier Er Rehwan . . .dccclxxxv
          a. The Man of Khorassan, his Son and his Governordccclxxxvi
          b. The Singer and the Druggist . . . . . . dccclxxxviii
          c. The King who knew the Quintessence of Things.dcccxci
          d. The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the
               Poor Old Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcii
          e. The Rich Man and his Wasteful Son . . . . .dcccxciii
          f. The King's Son who fell in Love with the Picturedcccxciv
          g. The Fuller and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcvi
          h. The Old Woman, the Merchant and the King. . dcccxcvi
          i. The Credulous Husband . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcviii
          j. The Unjust King and the Tither. . . . . . . dcccxcix
               ja. Story of David and Solomon. . . . . . dcccxcix
          h. The Thief and the Woman . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcix
          l. The Three Men and our Lord Jesus. . . . . . . dcccci
               la. The Disciple's Story. . . . . . . . . . dcccci
          m. The Dethroned King whose Kingdom and Good were Restored to Himdcccci
          n. The Man whose Caution was the Cause of his Deathdcccciii
          o. The Man who was lavish of his House and his Victual to one whom
               he knew not . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcccciv
          p. The Idiot and the Sharper . . . . . . . . . . dccccv
          q. Khelbes and his Wife and the Learned Man. . .dccccvi
          r. The Pious Woman accused of Lewdness . . . . dccccvii
          s. The Journeyman and the Girl . . . . . . . . .dccccix
          t. The Weaver who became a Physician by his Wife's Commandmentdccccix
          u. The Two Sharpers who cheated each his Fellow.dccccxi
          v. The Sharpers with the Money-Changer and the Assdccccxiv
          w. The Sharper and the Merchants . . . . . . . .dccccxv
               wa. The Hawk and the Locust . . . . . . . dccccxvi
          x. The King and his Chamberlain's Wife . . . .dccccxvii
               xa. The Old Woman and the Draper's Wife .dccccxvii
          y. The foul-favoured Man and his Fair Wife . dccccxviii
          z. The King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth and God
               restored them to him. . . . . . . . . . . dccccxix
          aa. Selim and Selma. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxxii
          bb. The King of Hind and his Visier. . . . .dccccxxviii
     111 El Melik es Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen
          Officers of Police . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dccccxxx
          a. The First Officer's Story . . . . . . . . . dccccxxx
          b. The Second Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxii
          c. The Third Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxii
          d. The Fourth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv
          e. The Fifth Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv
          f. The Sixth Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv
          g. The Seventh Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv
          h. The Eighth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . .dccccxxxv
               ha. The Thief's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii
          i The Ninth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii
          j. The Tenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii
          k. The Eleventh Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxviii
          l. The Twelfth Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxix
          m. The Thirteenth Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxix
          n. The Fourteenth Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxix
               na. A Merry Jest of a Thief . . . . . . . .dccccxl
               nb. Story of the Old Sharper. . . . . . . .dccccxl
          o. The Fifteenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . .dccccxl
          p. The Sixteenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . .dccccxl
     112. Abdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghardccccxli
          a. Story of Tuhfet el Culoub and Haroun er Reshiddccccxlii
     113. Noureddin Ali and Sitt el Milah. . . . . . . dcccclviii
     114. El Abbas and the King's Daughter of Baghdad. .dcccclxvi
     115. The Malice of Women. . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccclxxix
          a. The King and his Vizier's Wife. . . . . . .dcccclxxx
          b, The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot. . . . .dcccclxxx
          c. The Fuller and his Son. . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxx
          d. The Lover's Trick against the Chaste Wife .dcccclxxx
          e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread . . .dcccclxxxiv
          f. The Lady and her Two Lovers . . . . . . .dcccclxxxiv
          g. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . dcccclxxxv
          h. The Drop of Honey . . . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxxvi
          i. The Woman who made her Husband Sift Dust.dcccclxxxvi
          j. The Enchanted Springs . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxxvi
          k. The Vizier's Son and the Bathkeeper's Wifedcccclxxxviii
          l. The Wife's Device to Cheat her Husband. .dcccclxxxix
          m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing-Girl .dccccxc
          n. The Man who never Laughed again . . . . . . dccccxci
          o. The King's Son and the Merchant's Wife. . dccccxciii
          p. The Man who saw the Night of Power. . . . dccccxciii
          q. The Stolen Necklace . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxciv
          r. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detmadccccxciv
          s. The House with the Belvedere. . . . . . . . dccccxcv
          t. The Sandalwood Merchant and the Sharpers.dccccxcviii
          u. The Debauchee and the Three-year-old Childdccccxcviii
          v. The Stolen Purse. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxcix
          w. The Fox and the Folk[FN#235]. . . . . . . . . . . .M
     116. The Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters . . . . . . .M
     117. The Favourite and her Lover. . . . . . . . . . . . . .M
     118. The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun
          El Hikim bi Amrillak . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .M
Conclusion





              TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE UNFINISHED
         CALCUTTA (1814-18) EDITION (FIRST TWO HUNDRED
          NIGHTS ONLY) OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF THE BOOK
             OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT.



Introduction.
          a. The Ox and the Ass
     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i
          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . ii
          b. The Second Old Man's Story[FN#236]. . . . . . . . iv
     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . viii
          a. The Physician Douban. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi
               aa. The Merchant and the Parrot . . . . . . . .xiv
               ab. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . . xv
          b. The Enchanted Youth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xxi
     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . xxviii
          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix
          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . xlii
               ba. The Envier and the Envied . . . . . . . . xlvi
          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . liii
          d. The Eldest Lady's Story[FN#237] . . . . . . . . lxiv
     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lxviii
     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan.lxxii
     6. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif El Mamounxciv
     7. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ci
          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . .cix
          b. The Cook's Story[FN#238]. . . . . . . . . . . . cxxi
          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . .cxxix
          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . cxxxvi
          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . cxliii
               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . cxlv
               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. .cxlviii
               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . . .cli
               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . . clii
               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . . cliv
               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . clviii
     8. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar. . . . . . . . . . clxiii
     9. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Ennis el Jelis. . . . clxxxi
     10. Women's Craft . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxcv-cc
     11. Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter[FN#239]
          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor





          ALPHABETICAL TABLE OF THE FIRST LINES OF THE
             VERSE IN THE "TALES FROM THE ARABIC."



N.B.--The Roman numerals denote the volume, the Arabic the page

A Damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace, iii. 192.
A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, iii. 10.
A sun of beauty she appears to all who look on her, iii. 191.
A white one, from her sheath of tresses now laid bare, ii. 291.
After your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, iii. 41.
Algates ye are our prey become; this many a day and night, iii. 6.
All intercessions come and all alike do ill succeed, ii. 218.
An if my substance fail, no one there is will succour me, i. 6.
An if ye'd of evil be quit, look that no evil ye do, ii. 192.
Assemble, ye people of passion, I pray, iii. 31.
Awaken, O ye sleepers all, and profit, whilst it's here, ii. 234.

Beard of the old he-goat, the one-eyed, what shall be, ii. 231.
Behold, I am clad in a robe of leaves green, ii. 242.
But for the spying of the eyes [ill-omened,] we had seen, i. 50.
By Allah, but that I trusted that I should meet you again, ii. 266.
By Him whom I worship, indeed, I swear, O thou that mine eye dost fill, ii. 213.

Damascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes, iii. 9.
Drink ever, O lovers, I rede you, of wine, ii. 230.

El Abbas from Akil his stead is come again, iii. 108.
Endowed with amorous grace past any else am I, ii 253.

Fair fall the maid whose loosened locks her cheeks do overcloud! iii. 191.
Fair patience practise, for thereon still followeth content, iii. 116.
Fair patience use, for ease still followeth after stress, iii. 117.
For the uses of food I was fashioned and made, ii. 223.
"Forget him," quoth my censurers, "forget him; what is he?" iii. 42.
Fortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly, iii. 31.
Full many a man incited me to infidelity, i. 205.

God judge betwixt me and her lord! Away, i. 48.
God keep the days of love-delight! How dearly sweet they were! i. 225.
God keep the days of love-delight! How passing sweet they were! ii. 96
God knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, iii. 46.

Had we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice, i. 13.
Haste not to that thou dost desire; for haste is still unblest, ii. 88.
He who Mohammed sent, as prophet to mankind, i. 50.
His love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy, iii. 42
His love on him took pity and wept for his dismay, ii. 210.
How long, O Fate, wilt thou oppress and baffle me? ii. 69.
How long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe? iii. 42.
How long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? iii. 40.
How many, in Yemameh, dishevelled widows plain! i. 50.

I am content, for him I love, to all abide, iii. 25.
I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, iii. 15.
I am the champion-slayer he warrior without peer, iii. 94. 249----
I clipped her in mine arms and straight grew drunken with the scent, iii. 125.
I fear to be seen in the air, ii. 255.
I marvel for that to my love I see thee now incline, iii. 112.
I saw thee, O thou best of all the human race, display, i. 46.
I swear by his life, yea, I swear by the life of my love without peer, iii. 21.
If I must die, then welcome death to heal, iii. 23.
If, in his own land, midst his folk, abjection and despite, ii. 196.
I'm the crown of every sweet and fragrant weed, ii. 255.
In every rejoicing a boon[FN#240] midst the singers and minstrels am I, ii. 258
In my soul the fire of yearning and affliction rageth aye, iii. 65.
Indeed, thou'st told the tale of kings and men of might, iii. 87.
It chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit, ii. 51.
It is as the jasmine, when it I espy, ii. 236.

Let destiny with loosened rein its course appointed fare, iii. 211
Like a sun at the end of a cane in a hill of sand, iii. 190.
Like the full moon she shows upon a night of fortune fair, iii. 191.
Lo, since the day I left you, O my masters, iii. 24.
Look at the moss-rose, on its branches seen, ii. 256.

May the place of my session ne'er lack thee! Oh, why, iii. 118
Me, till I stricken was therewith, to love thou didst excite, iii. 113
Midst colours, my colour excelleth in light, ii. 258.
Most like a wand of emerald my shape it is, trow I, ii. 245.
My flower a marvel on your heads doth show, ii. 254.
My fortitude fails, my endeavour is vain, ii. 95.
My fruit is a jewel all wroughten of gold, ii. 245.
My heart will never credit that I am far from thee, ii. 275.
My secret is disclosed, the which I strove to hide, iii. 89.
My watering lips, that cull the rose of thy soft cheek, declare, iii. 134.

No good's in life (to the counsel list of one who's purpose-whole), i. 28.

O amir of justice, be kind to thy subjects, iii. 24.
O friends, the East wind waxeth, the morning draweth near, iii. 123.
O friends, the tears flow ever, in mockery of my pain, iii. 116.
O hills of the sands and the rugged piebald plain, iii. 20.
O thou that blamest me for my heart and railest at my ill, ii. 101.
O thou that questionest the lily of its scent, ii. 256.
O son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say, iii. 36.
O'er all the fragrant flowers that be I have the pref'rence aye, ii. 235.
O'erbold art thou in that to me, a stranger, thou hast sent, iii. 83.
Oft as my yearning waxeth, my heart consoleth me, ii. 228.
One of the host am I of lovers sad and sere, ii. 252.

Pease on thee! Would our gaze might light on thee once more! ii. 89.
Peace on you, people of my troth! With peace I do you greet, ii. 224.

Quoth I (and mine a body is of passion all forslain), iii. 81.

Rail not at the vicissitudes of Fate, ii. 219.
Ramazan in my life ne'er I fasted, nor e'er, i. 49.

Say, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul's pure desire, iii. 19.
She comes in a robe the colour of ultramarine, iii. 190.
Sherik ben Amrou, what device avails the hand of death to stay? i. 204.
Some with religion themselves concern and make it their business all, i. 48.
Still by your ruined camp a dweller I abide, ii. 209.
Still do I yearn, whilst passion's fire flames in my liver are, iii. 111

The absent ones' harbinger came us unto, iii. 153.
The billows of thy love o'erwhelm me passing sore, ii. 226.
The crown of the flow'rets am I, in the chamber of wine, ii. 224.
The Merciful dyed me with that which I wear, ii. 245.
The season of my presence is never at an end, ii. 246.
The two girls let me down from fourscore fathoms' height, i. 49.
The zephyr's sweetness on the coppice blew, ii. 235.
They have departed, but the steads yet full of them remain, ii. 239.
They have shut out thy person from my sight, iii. 43.
Thou that the dupe of yearning art, how many a melting wight, iii. 86.
Thou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst bide, iii. 46.
Thy haters say and those who malice to thee bear, iii. 8.
Thy letter reached me; when the words thou wrot'st therein I read, iii. 84.
Thy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes, iii. 43.
Thy presence honoureth us and we, i. 13.
To his beloved one the lover's heart's inclined, iii. 22.
'Twere better and meeter thy presence to leave, ii. 85.
'Twere fitter and better my loves that I leave, i. 26.

Unto its pristine lustre your land returned and more, iii. 132.
Unto me the whole world's gladness is thy nearness and thy sight, iii. 15.
Upon the parting day our loves from us did fare, iii. 114.

Were not the darkness still in gender masculine, iii. 193.
What strength have I solicitude and long desire to bear, iii. 20.
When in the sitting-chamber we for merry-making sate, iii. 135.
Whenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day, iii. 47.
Whenas the soul desireth one other than its peer, ii 207.
Wind of the East, if thou pass by the land where my loved ones dwell, I pray, ii. 204, 271.
Would God upon that bitterest day, when my death calls for me, i. 47
Would we may live together, and when we come to die, i. 47.

Ye chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new, iii. 30.
Ye know I'm passion-maddened, racked with love and languishment, ii. 230.
Your coming to-me-ward, indeed, with "Welcome! Fair welcome!" I hail, iii. 136.
Your water I'll leave without drinking, for there, i. 210.





           INDEX TO THE NAMES OF THE "TALES FROM THE
                            ARABIC"



N.B.-The Roman numerals denote the volume, the Arabic the page

Abbas (El) and the King's Daughter of Baghdad, iii. 53.
Abbaside, Jaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih the, i. 183.
Abdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghar, ii. 195.
Abdulmelik ben Salih the Abbaside, Jaafer ben Yehya, and, i. 183.
Abou Sabir, Story of, i. 90.
Abou Temam, Story of Ilan Shah and, i. 126.
Actions, Of the Issues of Good and Evil, i. 103.
Advantages of Patience, Of the, i. 89.
Affairs, Of Looking to the Issues of, i. 80.
Ali of Damascus and Sitt el Milah, Noureddin, iii. 3.
Appointed Term, Of the, i. 147.
Arab of the Benou Tai, En Numan and the, i. 203.
Asleep and Awake, i. 5.
Ass, the Sharpers, the Money-Changer and the, ii. 41.
Awake, Asleep and, i. 5.
Azadbekht and his Son, History of King, i. 61

Baghdad, El Abbas and the King's Daughter of, iii. 53.
Barmecides, Er Reshid and the, i. 189.
Barmecides, Haroun er Reshid and the Woman of the, i. 57.
Bekhtzeman, Story of King, i. 115.
Benou Tai, En Numan and the Arab of the, i. 203.
Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin, ii. 117.
Bihkerd, Story of King, i. 121.
Bihzad, Story of Prince, i. 99.
Bunducdari (El) and the Sixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers, ii. 117.

Cairo (The Merchant of) and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, iii.
     171.
Cashghar, Abdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of, ii. 195.
Caution was the Cause of his Death, The Man whose, i 291.
Chamberlain's Wife, The King and his, ii. 53.
Clemency, Of, i. 120.
Cook, The Lackpenny and the, i. 9.
Craft, Women's, ii. 287.
Credulous Husband, The, i. 270.

Dadbin (King) and his Viziers, Story of, i. 104.
Damascus (Noureddin Ali of) and Sitt el Milah, iii. 3.
Daughter of the Poor Old Man, The Rich Man who married his Fair, i. 247.
Daughters, The Two Kings and the Vizier's, iii. 145.
David and Solomon, i. 275.
Death, The Man whose Caution was the Cause of his, i. 291.
Destiny, Of, i. 136.
Dethroned King whose Kingdom and Good were restored to him, The, i. 285.
Disciple's Story, The, i. 283.
Draper's Wife, The Old Woman and the, ii. 55.
Druggist, The Singer and the, i. 229.

Eighth Officer's Story, The, ii. 155.
Eleventh Officer's Story, The, ii. 175.
Endeavour against Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the Uselessness of, i. 70.
Envy and Malice, Of, i. 125.

Favourite and her Lover, The, iii. 165.
Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun el Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant of Cairo and the, iii. 171.
Fifteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 190.
Fifth Officer's Story, The, ii. 144.
Firouz and his Wife, i. 209.
First Officer's Story, The, ii. 122.
Forehead, Of that which is written on the, i. 136.
Fortune, Of the Uselessness of Endeavour against Persistent Ill, i. 70.
Foul-favoured Man and his Fair Wife, The, ii. 61.
Fourteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 183.
Fourth Officer's Story, The, ii. 142.
Fuller and his Wife, The, i. 261.

Girl, The Journeyman and the, ii. 17.
God, Of the Speedy Relief of, i. 174.
God, Of Trust in, i. 114.
Governor, Story of the Man of Khorassan, his Son and his, i. 218.

Hakim (El) bi Amrillah, The Merchant and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun, iii. 171.
Haroun er Reshid, Tuhfet el Culoub and, ii. 203.
Haroun er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides, i. 57.
Hawk and the Locust, The, ii. 50.
Hejjaj (El) and the Three Young Men, i. 53.
Hind and his Vizier, The King of, ii. 105.
Hindbad the Porter, Sindbad the Sailor and, iii. 199.
Husband, The Credulous, i. 270.

Ibn es Semmak and Er Reshid, i. 195.
Ibrahim and his Son, Story of King, i. 138.
Idiot and the Sharper, The, i. 298.
Ilan Shah and Abou Temam, Story of, i. 126.
Ill Effects of Precipitation, Of the, i. 98.
Ill Fortune, Of the Uselessness of Endeavour against Persistent, i 70.
Issues of Affairs, Of Looking to the, i. 80.
Issues of Good and Evil Actions, Of the, i. 103.

Jaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih the Abbaside, i. 183.
Jest of a Thief, A Merry, ii. 186.
Jesus, The Three Men and our Lord, i. 282.
Journeyman and the Girl, The, ii. 17.

Khalif, El Mamoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the, iii.
     171.
Khalif Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets, The, i. 45.
Khelbes and his Wife and the Learned Man, i. 301.
Khorassan, his Son and his Governor, Story of the Man of, i. 218.
King Azadbekht and his Son, History of, i. 61.
King Bekhtzeman, Story of, i. 115.
King Bihkerd, Story of, i. 121.
King and his Chamberlain's Wife, The, ii. 53.
King Dadbin and his Viziers, Story of, i. 104.
King (The Dethroned), whose Kingdom and Good were restored to him, i. 285.
King of Ind and his Vizier, The, ii. 105.
King Ibrahim and his Son, Story of, i. 138.
King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth, The, ii. 66.
King, The Old Woman, the Merchant and the, i. 265.
King who knew the Quintessence of Things, The, i. 230.
King Shah Bekht and his Vizier Er Rehwan, i. 215.
King Suleiman Shah and his Sons, Story of, i. 150
King (The Unjust) and the Tither, i. 273.
King's Daughter of Baghdad, El Abbas and the, iii. 53.
King's Son of Cashghar, Abdullah ben Nafi and the, ii. 195.
Kings and the Vizier's Daughters, The Two, iii. 145.

Lackpenny and the Cook, The, i. 9.
Lavish of House and Victual to one whom he knew not, The Man who was, i. 293.
Learned Man, Khelbes and his Wife and the, i. 301.
Lewdness, The Pious Woman accused of, ii. 5.
Locust, The Hawk and the, ii. 50.
Looking to the Issues of Affairs, Of, i. 80.
Lover, The Favourite and her, iii. 165.

Malice, Of Envy and, i. 125.
Mamoun (El) El Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant and the Favourite of the Khalif, iii. 171.
Mamoun (El) and Zubeideh, i. 199.
Man whose Caution was the Cause of his Death, The, i. 291.
Man and his Fair Wife, The Foul-favoured, ii. 61.
Man of Khorassan, his Son and his Governor, Story of the, i. 218.
Man who was lavish of House and Victual to One whom he knew not, The, i 293.
Mariyeh, El Abbas and, iii. 53.
Marriage to the Poor Old Man, The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in, i. 247.
Melik (El) Ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of Police, ii. 117.
Men and our Lord Jesus, The Three, i. 282.
Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El Maraoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, The, iii.
     171.
Merchant and the King, The Old Woman, the, i. 265.
Merchant and his Sons, The, i. 81.
Merchant, The Unlucky, i. 73.
Merchants, The Sharper and the, ii. 46.
Merouzi (El) and Er Razi, ii. 28.
Merry Jest of a Thief, A, ii. 186.
Money-Changer and the Ass, The Sharpers, the, ii. 41.

Ninth Officer's Story, The, ii. 167.
Noureddin Ali of Damascus and Sitt el Milan, iii, 3.
Numan (En) and the Arab of the Benou Tai, i. 203.

Officer's Story, The First, ii. 122.
Officer's Story, The Second, ii. 134.
Officer's Story, The Third, ii. 137.
Officer's Story, The Fourth, ii. 142.
Officer's Story, The Fifth, ii. 144.
Officer's Story, The Sixth, ii. 146.
Officer's Story, The Seventh, ii. 150.
Officer's Story, the Eighth, ii. 155.
Officer's Story, The Ninth, ii. 167.
Officer's Story, The Tenth, ii. 172.
Officer's Story, The Eleventh, ii. 175.
Officer's Story, The Twelfth, ii. 179.
Officer's Story, The Thirteenth, ii. 181.
Officer's Story, The Fourteenth, ii. 183.
Officer's Story, The Fifteenth, ii. 190.
Officer's Story, The Sixteenth, ii. 193.
Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdar and the Sixteen, ii. 117.
Old Sharper, Story of the, ii. 187.
Old Woman and the Draper's Wife, The, ii. 55.
Old Woman, the Merchant and the King, The, i. 265.
Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets, The Khalif, i. 45.

Patience, Of the Advantages of, i. 89.
Physician by his Wife's Commandment, The Weaver who became a, ii. 21.
Picture, The Prince who fell in love with the, i. 256.
Pious Woman accused of Lewdness, The, ii. 5.
Poets, The Khalif Omar ben Abdulaziz and the, i. 45.
Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of, ii. 117.
Poor Old Man, The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the, i. 247.
Porter, Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the, iii. 199
Precipitation, Of the Ill Effects of, i. 98
Prince Bihzad, Story of, i. 99.
Prince who fell in Love with the Picture, The, i. 256.
Prisoner and how God gave him Relief, Story of the, i. 174.

Quintessence of Things, The King who knew the, i. 230.

Razi (Er) and El Merouzi, ii. 28.
Rehwan (Er), King Shah Bekht and his Vizier, i. 215.
Relief of God, Of the Speedy, i. 174.
Relief, Story of the Prisoner and how God gave him, i. 174.
Reshid (Er) and the Barmecides, i. 189.
Reshid (Er), Ibn es Semmak and, i. 195.
Reshid (Er), Tuhfet el Culoub and, ii. 203.
Reshid (Haroun er) and the Woman of the Barmecides, i. 57.
Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the Poor Old Man, The, i. 247.
Rich Man and his Wasteful Son, The, i. 252.

Sabir (Abou), Story of, i. 90.
Sailor and Hindbad the Porter, Sindbad the, iii. 199.
Second Officer's Story, The, ii. 134.
Selim and Selma, ii. 81.
Selma, Selim and, ii. 81.
Semmak (Ibn es) and Er Reshid, i. 195.
Seventh Officer's Story, The, ii. 150.
Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The, iii. 224.
Shah Bekht and his Vizier Er Rehwan, King, i. 215.
Sharper, The Idiot and the, i. 298.
Sharper and the Merchant, The, ii. 46
Sharper, Story of the Old, ii. 187.
Sharpers who cheated each his Fellow, The Two, ii. 28.
Sharpers, The Money-Changer and the Ass, The, ii. 41.
Shehriyar, Shehrzad and, ii. 111, iii. 141, 157.
Shehrzad and Shehriyar, ii. 111, iii. 141, 157.
Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter, iii. 199.
Sindbad the Sailor, The Seventh Voyage of, iii. 224.
Sindbad the Sailor, The Sixth Voyage of, iii. 203.
Singer and the Druggist, The, i. 229.
Sitt el Milah, Noureddin Ali of Damascus and, iii. 3.
Sixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the, ii. 117.
Sixteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 193.
Sixth Officer's Story, The, ii. 146.
Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The, iii. 203.
Solomon, David and, i. 275.
Son, The History of King Azadbekht and his, i. 61.
Son and his Governor, Story of the Man of Khorassan, his, i. 218
Son, Story of King Ibrahim and his, i. 138.
Son, The Rich Man and his Wasteful, i. 252.
Sons, Story of King Suleiman Shah and his, i. 150.
Sons, The Merchant and his, i. 81.
Speedy Relief of God, Of the, i. 174.
Suleiman Shah and his Sons, Story of King, i. 150.

Tai, En Numan and the Arab of the Benou. i. 203.
Temam (Abou), Story of Ilan Shah and, i. 126.
Ten Viziers, The, i. 61
Tenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 172
Term, Of the Appointed, i. 147.
Thief, A Merry Jest of a, ii. 186.
Thiefs Story, The, ii. 165.
Thief and the Woman, The, i. 278
Things, The King who knew the Quintessence of, i. 239
Third Officer's Story, The, ii. 137.
Thirteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 181.
Three Men and our Lord Jesus, The, i. 282.
Three Young Men, El Hejjaj and the, i. 53.
Tither, The Unjust King and the, i. 273.
Trust in God, Of, 114.
Tuhfet el Culoub and Er Reshid, ii. 203.
Twelfth Officer's Story, The, ii. I79.
Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters, The, iii. 145

Unjust King and the Tither, The, i. 272
Unlucky Merchant, The, i 73.
Uselessness of Endeavour against Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the, i. 70

Vizier, The King of Hind and his, ii. 105.
Vizier Er Rehwan, King Shah Bekht and his, i. 215.
Vizier's Daughters, The Two Kings and the, iii. 145,
Viziers, Story of King Dadbin and his. i. 104.
Viziers, The Ten, i. 61.
Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The Seventh, iii. 224.
Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The Sixth, iii. 203.

Wasteful Son, The Rich Man and his, i. 252.
Weaver who became a Physician by his Wife's Commandment, The ii. 21.
Wife, The King and his Chamberlain's, ii. 53.
Wife, The Old Woman and the Draper's, ii. 55.
Wife, Firouz aad his, i. 209.
Wife, The Fuller and his, i. 261.
Wife and the Learned Man, Khelbes and his, i. 301.
Woman accused of Lewdness, The Pious, ii. 5.
Woman of the Barmecides, Haroun er Reshid and the, i. 57.
Woman, The Thief and the, i. 278.
Woman (The Old) and the Draper's Wife, ii. 55.
Woman (The Old), the Merchant and the King, i. 265.
Women's Craft, ii. 287.

Young Men, El Hejjaj and the Three, i. 53.

Zubeideh, El Mamoun and, i. 199





The End.





                Tales from the Arabic, Volume 3
                            Endnotes





[FN#1]  Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 50-116, Nights dcccclviii-dcccclxv.

[FN#2]  Babylon, according to the Muslims, is the head-quarters of sorcery and it is there that the
two fallen angels, Harout and Marout, who are appointed to tempt mankind by teaching them the
art of magic, are supposed to be confined.

[FN#3]  i.e. "my lord," a title generally prefixed to the names of saints. It is probable, therefore,
that the boy was named after some saint or other, whose title, as well as name, was somewhat
ignorantly appropriated to him.

[FN#4]  i.e. one and all?

[FN#5]  i.e. a foretaste of hell.

[FN#6] Lit. he loaded his sleeve with.

[FN#7]  A mithcal is the same as a dinar, i.e. about ten shillings.

[FN#8]  Masculine.

[FN#9]  He was a noted debauchee, as well as the greatest poet of his day See my "Book of the
Thousand Nights and One Night," Vol. IV. p. 205, and Vol. IX. p. 332.

[FN#10] See ante, Vol. II. p. 240. note.

[FN#11] Princess of the Fair.

[FN#12] i.e. Ye are welcome to.

[FN#13] i.e. the place in which those accused or convicted of crimes of violence were confined.

[FN#14] i.e. a youth slender and flexile as a bough.

[FN#15] i.e. sway gracefully. A swimming gait is the ideal of elegance to the Arab.

[FN#16] An Arab of Medina, proverbial for faithlessness.

[FN#17] Joseph is the Mohammedan prototype of beauty.

[FN#18] For the loss of Joseph. Jacob, in like manner, is the Muslim type of inconsolable grief.

[FN#19] Uncle of the Prophet.

[FN#20] First cousin of the Prophet.

[FN#21] i.e. cut off her head.

[FN#22] When asked, on the Day of Judgment, why he had slain her.

[FN#23] i.e. that some one of the many risings in Khorassan (which was in a chronic state of
rebellion during Er Reshid's reign) had been put down.

[FN#24] Lit. fry. The custom is to sear the stump by plunging it into boiling oil.

[FN#25] Lit. of those having houses.

[FN#26] i.e. from God in the world to come.

[FN#27] I look to get God's favour in consequence of thy fervent prayers for me.

[FN#28] Provided for ablution.

[FN#29] i.e. if you want a thing done, do it yourself.

[FN#30] i.e. put on the ordinary walking dress of the Eastern lady, which completely hides the
person.

[FN#31] This is apparently said in jest; but the Muslim Puritan (such as the strict Wehhabi) is
often exceedingly punctilious in refusing to eat or use anything that is not sanctified by mention in
the Koran or the Traditions of the Prophet, in the same spirit as the old Calvinist Scotchwoman of
popular tradition, who refused to eat muffins, because they "warna mentioned in the Bible."

[FN#32] i.e. a leader (lit. foreman, antistes) of the people at prayer.

[FN#33] Koran ii. 168.

[FN#34] i.e. I have eaten largely and the food lies heavy on my stomach.

[FN#35] Wine is considered by the Arabs a sovereign digestive. See my "Book of the Thousand
Nights and One Night," Vol. IV. p. 357.

[FN#36] "The similitude of Paradise, the which is promised unto those who fear [God]. Therein
are rivers of water incorruptible and rivers of milk, the taste whereof changeth not, and rivers of
wine, a delight to the drinkers, and rivers of clarified honey."--Koran xlvii. 16, 17.

[FN#37] The ox is the Arab type of stupidity, as with us the ass.

[FN#38] Syn. wood (oud).

[FN#39] i.e. my pallor and emaciation testify to the affliction of my heart and the latter bears
witness that the external symptoms correctly indicate the internal malady.

[FN#40] Lit. he is [first] the deposit of God, then thy deposit.

[FN#41] Or "by."

[FN#42] See supra, Vol. I. p. 35, note.

[FN#43] i.e. made him Chief of the Police of Baghdad, in place of the former Prefect, whom he
had put to death with the rest of Noureddin's oppressors.

[FN#44] For affright.

[FN#45] i.e. religious ceremonies so called. See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One
Night," Vol. IX. p. 113, note.

[FN#46] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 116-237, Nights dcccclxvi-dcccclxxix.

[FN#47] i.e. A member of the tribe of Sheiban. No such King of Baghdad (which was not
founded till the eighth century) as Ins ben Cais is, I believe, known to history.

[FN#48] The cities and provinces of Bassora and Cufa are generally known as "The Two Iraks";
but the name is here in all probability used in its wider meaning of Irak Arabi (Chaldaea) and Irak
Farsi (Persian Irak).

[FN#49] i.e. all those languages the knowledge whereof is necessary to an interpreter or
dragoman (properly terjeman). Or quaere is the word terjemaniyeh (dragomanish) here a
mistranscription for turkumaniyeh (Turcoman).

[FN#50] i.e. gilded?

[FN#51] i.e. sperma hominis.

[FN#52] Syn. good breeding.

[FN#53] i.e. those women of equal age and rank with herself.

[FN#54] i.e. vaunting himself of offering richer presents.

[FN#55] Apparently Zebid, the ancient capital of the province of Tehameh in Yemen, a town on
the Red Sea, about sixty miles north of Mocha. The copyist of the Tunis MS. appears to have
written the name with the addition of the characteristic desinence (oun) of the nominative case,
which is dropped except in the Koran and in poetry.

[FN#56] Name of the province in which Mecca is situated.

[FN#57] Syn. assembly.

[FN#58] i.e. day and night, to wit, for ever.

[FN#59] Syn. the loftiness of his purpose.

[FN#60] Lit "I charm thee by invoking the aid of God for thee against evil" or "I seek refuge with
God for thee."

[FN#61] Or "determinate."

[FN#62] Koran xxxiii. 38.

[FN#63] Or "accomplishments."

[FN#64] i.e. to make a pleasure-excursion.

[FN#65] Lit. beset his back.

[FN#66] Lit. in its earth.

[FN#67] The king's own tribe.

[FN#68] i.e. the Arab of the desert or Bedouin (el Aarabi), the nomad.

[FN#69] i.e. the martial instinct.

[FN#70] Lit. "And he who is oppressed shall become oppressor."

[FN#71] i.e. be not ashamed to flee rather than perish in thy youth, if his prowess (attributed to
diabolical aid or possession) prove too much for thee.

[FN#72] A periphrastic way of saying, "I look to God for help."

[FN#73] i.e. from the world.

[FN#74] In laughter.

[FN#75] i.e. as he were a flying genie, swooping down upon a mortal from the air, hawk-fashion.

[FN#76] Syn. "Thou settest out to me a mighty matter."

[FN#77] i.e. the castle.

[FN#78] i.e. was eloquent and courtly to the utmost.

[FN#79] i.e. died.

[FN#80] The Arabs use the right hand only in eating.

[FN#81] Name of a quarter of Baghdad.

[FN#82] i.e. he summoneth thee to his presence by way of kindness and not because he is wroth
with thee.

[FN#83] i.e. in allowing thee hitherto to remain at a distance from as and not inviting thee to
attach thyself to our person.

[FN#84] An Arab idiom, meaning "he showed agitation."

[FN#85] Apparently two well-known lovers.

[FN#86] Apparently two well-known lovers.

[FN#87] i.e. the wandering Arabs.

[FN#88] i.e. slain.

[FN#89] "O ye who believe, seek aid of patience and prayer; verily, God is with the
patient."--Koran ii. 148.

[FN#90] Lit. "ignorant one" (jahil).

[FN#91] i.e. Peninsula. Jezireh (sing, of jezair, islands) is constantly used by the Arabs in this
sense; hence much apparent confusion in topographical passages.

[FN#92] i.e. Mecca and Medina.

[FN#93] i.e. whether on a matter of sport, such as the chase, or a grave matter, such as war, etc.

[FN#94] i.e. the children of his fighting-men whom thou slewest.

[FN#95] Arab fashion of shaking hands. See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,"
Vol. IX p. 171, note.

[FN#96] Lit. a cleft meadow (merj selia). This is probably a mistranscription for merj sselia, a
treeless champaign.

[FN#97] i.e. one of the small rooms opening upon the hall of audience at saloon of estate.

[FN#98] So she might hear and see what passed, herself unseen.

[FN#99] Or knowledge of court etiquette.

[FN#100] i.e. richer.

[FN#101] Lit. seen.

[FN#102] Lit. what she did.

[FN#103] i.e. tabooed or unlawful in a religious sense (heram).

[FN#104] i.e. those of El Aziz, who had apparently entered the city or passed through it on their
way to the camp of El Abbas.

[FN#105] Lit. none of the sons of the road.

[FN#106] i.e. the stars.

[FN#107] i.e. in falsetto?

[FN#108] by thine absence.

[FN#109] Common abbreviation for "May I be thy ransom!"

[FN#110] i.e. for love of and longing for.

[FN#111] i.e. leather from Et Taif, a town of the Hejaz, renowned for the manufacture of scented
goats' leather.

[FN#112] Or "suspended in."

[FN#113] i.e. violateth my privacy.

[FN#114] i.e. the plaintive song of a nightingale or turtle-dove.

[FN#115] This curious comparison appears to be founded upon the extreme tenuity of the
particles of fine dust, so minutely divided as to seem almost fluid.

[FN#116] i.e. he carried it into the convent, hidden under his cloak.

[FN#117] i.e. all the delights of Paradise, as promised to the believer by the Koran.

[FN#118] "Him" in the text and so on throughout the piece; but Mariyeh is evidently the person
alluded to, according to the common practice of Muslim poets of a certain class, who consider it
indecent openly to mention a woman as an object of love.

[FN#119] i.e. from the witchery of her beauty. See Vol. II. p. 240, note.

[FN#120] Lit "if thou kohl thyself" i.e. use them as a cosmetic for the eye.

[FN#121] i.e. we will assume thy debts and responsibilities.

[FN#122] Lit "behind."

[FN#123] i.e. a specially auspicious hour, as ascertained by astrological calculations. Eastern
peoples have always laid great stress upon the necessity of commencing all important
undertakings at an (astrologically) favourable time.

[FN#124] Or "more valuable." Red camels are considered better than those of other colours by
some of the Arabs.

[FN#125] i.e. couriers mounted on dromedaries, which animals are commonly used for this
purpose, being (for long distances) swifter and more enduring than horses.

[FN#126] Lit. he sinned against himself.

[FN#127] i.e. in falsetto?

[FN#128] i.e. of gold or rare wood, set with balass rubies.

[FN#129] i.e. whose absence.

[FN#130] i.e. in a throat voice?

[FN#131] Koranic synonym, victual (rihan). See Vol. II. p. 247, note.

[FN#132] Apparently, the apple of the throat.

[FN#133] Apparently, the belly.

[FN#134] Apparently, the bosom.

[FN#135] Cf. Fletcher's well-known song in The Bloody Brother;

     "Hide, O hide those hills of snow,
        That thy frozen bosom bears,
     On Whose Tops the Pinks That Grow
        Are of those that April wears."

[FN#136] i.e. the breasts themselves.

[FN#137] i.e. your languishing beauties are alone present to my mind's eye. A drowsy voluptuous
air of languishment is considered by the Arabs an especial charm.

[FN#138] Syn. chamberlain (hajib).

[FN#139] Syn. eyebrow (hajib). The usual trifling play of words is of course intended.

[FN#140] Lit. feathers.

[FN#141] Solomon is fabled by the Muslims to have compelled the wind to bear his throne when
placed upon his famous magic carpet. See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,"
Vol. V. pp. 235-6.

[FN#142] Quære the teeth.

[FN#143] i.e. the return of our beloved hath enabled us to remove the barriers that stood between
us and delight.

[FN#144] Singing (as I have before pointed out) is not, in the eyes of the strict Muslim, a
reputable occupation and it is, therefore, generally the first idea of the "repentant" professional
songstress or (as in this case) enfranchised slave-girl, who has been wont to entertain her master
with the display of her musical talents, to free herself from all signs of her former profession and
identify herself as closely as possible with the ordinary "respectable" bourgeoise of the harem,
from whom she has been distinguished hitherto by unveiled face and freedom of ingress and
egress; and with this aim in view she would naturally be inclined to exaggerate the rigour of
Muslim custom, as applied to herself.

[FN#145] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 383-4 (Night mi).

[FN#146] i.e. that of the king, his seven viziers, his son and his favourite, which in the Breslau
Edition immediately follows the Story of El Abbas and Mariyeh and occupies pp. 237-383 of vol.
xii. (Nights dcccclxxix-m). It will be found translated in my "Book of the Thousand Nights and
One Night," Vol. V. pp. 260-346, under the name of "The Malice of Women."

[FN#147] i.e. those who practise it.

[FN#148] Or "cause" (sebeb).

[FN#149] Or "preservation" (selameh).

[FN#150] Or "turpitude, anything that is hateful or vexatious" (keraheh).

[FN#151] Or "preservation" (selameh).

[FN#152] Or "turpitude, anything that is hateful or vexatious" (keraheh).

[FN#153] These preliminary words of Shehrzad have no apparent connection with the story that
immediately follows and which is only her own told in the third person, and it is difficult to
understand why they should be here introduced. The author may have intended to connect them
with the story by means of a further development of the latter and with the characteristic
carelessness of the Eastern story-teller, forgotten or neglected to carry out his intention; or, again,
it is possible that the words in question may have been intended as an introduction to the Story of
the Favourite and her Lover (see post, p. 165), to which they seem more suitable, and have been
misplaced by an error of transcription. In any case, the text is probably (as usual) corrupt.

[FN#154] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 384-394.

[FN#155] The kingdom of the elder brother is afterwards referred to as situate in China. See post,
p. 150.

[FN#156] Tubba was the dynastic title of the ancient Himyerite Kings of Yemen, even as
Chosroës and Cæsar of the Kings of Persia and the Emperors of Constantinople respectively.

[FN#157] i.e. a king similar in magnificence and dominion to the monarchs of the three dynasties
aforesaid, whose names are in Arab literature synonyms for regal greatness.

[FN#158] i.e. his rage was ungovernable, so that none dared approach him in his heat of passion.

[FN#159] i.e. maidens cloistered or concealed behind curtains and veiled in the harem.

[FN#160] i.e. those whose business it is to compose or compile stories, verses, etc., for the
entertainment of kings and grandees.

[FN#161] i.e. that his new and damnable custom. The literal meaning of bidah is "an innovation
or invention, anything new;" but the word is commonly used in the sense of "heresy" or
"heterodox innovation," anything new being naturally heretical in the eyes of the orthodox
religionist.

[FN#162] i.e. women.

[FN#163] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 394-398.

[FN#164] i.e. his apathy or indifference to the principles of right and wrong and the consequences
of his wicked behaviour.

[FN#165] i.e. in a state of reprobation, having incurred the wrath of God.

[FN#166] hath mentioned the office of vizier.

[FN#167] Koran xx. 30.

[FN#168] i.e. none had been better qualified to dispense with a vizier than he.

[FN#169] i.e. the essential qualification.

[FN#170] The word jeish (troops) is here apparently used in the sense at officials, ministers of
government.

[FN#171] Or "rectification."

[FN#172] Koran xxxiii. 35.

[FN#173] i.e. I know not which to choose of the superabundant material at my command in the
way of instances of women's craft.

[FN#174] Breslau Text, vol xii. pp. 398-402.

[FN#175] i.e. incensed with the smoke of burning musk. It is a common practice in the East to
fumigate drinking-vessels with the fragrant smoke of aloes-wood and other perfumes, for the
purpose of giving a pleasant flavour to the water, etc., drunk from them.

[FN#176] Huneini foucaniyeh. Foucaniyeh means "upper" (fem.); but the meaning of huneini is
unknown to me.

[FN#177] Heriseh. See supra, Vol. II. p. 26, note 4.

[FN#178] The Arabs distinguish three kinds of honey, i.e. bees' honey, cane honey (treacle or
syrup of sugar) and drip-honey (date-syrup).

[FN#179] i.e. yet arrive in time for the rendezvous.

[FN#180] Breslau Text, pp. 402-412.

[FN#181] i.e. on an island between two branches of the Nile.

[FN#182] It is not plain what Khalif is here meant, though it is evident, from the context, that an
Egyptian prince is referred to, unless the story is told of the Abbaside Khalif El Mamoun, son of
Er Reshid (A.D. 813-33), during his temporary residence in Egypt, which he is said to have
visited. This is, however, unlikely, as his character was the reverse of sanguinary; besides, El
Mamoun was not his name, but his title (Aboulabbas Abdallah El Mamoun Billah). Two Khalifs of
Egypt assumed the title of El Hakim bi Amrillah (He who rules or decrees by or in accordance
with the commandment of God), i.e. the Fatimite Abou Ali El Mensour (A.D. 995-1021), and the
faineant Abbaside Aboulabbas Ahmed (A.D. 1261-1301); but neither of these was named El
Mamoun. It is probable, however, that the first named is the prince referred to in the story, the
latter having neither the power nor the inclination for such wholesale massacres as that described
in the text, which are perfectly in character with the brutal and fantastic nature of the founder of
the Druse religion.

[FN#183] i.e. the well-known island of that name (The Garden).

[FN#184] i.e. "whatever may betide" or "will I, nill I"?

[FN#185] Lit. she was cut off or cut herself off.

[FN#186] Lit. "The convent of Clay."

[FN#187] i.e. this is the time to approve thyself a man.

[FN#188] To keep her afloat.

[FN#189] Lit "Thou art the friend who is found (or present) (or the vicissitudes of Time (or
Fortune)."

[FN#190] i.e. the officer whose duty it is to search out the estates of intestates and lay hands upon
such property as escheats to the Crown for want of heirs.

[FN#191] i.e. Sumatran.

[FN#192] i.e. Alexander.

[FN#193] i.e. the blackness of the hair.

[FN#194] The ingenuity of the bride's attendants, on the occasion of a wedding, is strained to the
utmost to vary her attire and the manner in which the hair is dressed on the occasion of her being
displayed to her husband, and one favourite trick consists in fastening her tresses about her chin
and cheeks, so as to produce a sort of imitation of beard and whiskers.

[FN#195] Literal.

[FN#196] i.e. God only knows if it be true or not.

[FN#197] Or rather appended to. The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor form no part of the scheme
of Nights in this edition, but are divided into "Voyages" only and form a sort of appendix,
following the Two hundredth Night. See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," Vol.
IX. pp. 307-8.

[FN#198] See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," Vol. V. pp. 202 and 210.

[FN#199] i.e. the porter and the other guests.

[FN#200] i.e. a mountainous island.

[FN#201] Kherabeh, lit. a hole. Syn. ruin or destruction.

[FN#202] i.e. an outlying spur or reef.

[FN#203] Syn. perilous place.

[FN#204] Lit. their guide was disappointed.

[FN#205] i.e. means (hileh) of sustaining life.

[FN#206] i.e. death.

[FN#207] i.e. Ceylon.

[FN#208] Audiyeh (plural of wadi, a valley). The use of the word in this sense points to an
African origin of this version of the story. The Moors of Africa and Spain commonly called a river
"a valley," by a natural figure of metonymy substituting the container for the contained; e.g.
Guadalquiver (Wadi el Kebir, the Great River), Guadiana, etc.

[FN#209] i.e. after the usual compliments, the letter proceeded thus.

[FN#210] i.e. we are thine allies in peace and war, for offence and defence. Those whom thou
lovest we love, and those whom thou hatest we hate.

[FN#211] About seventy-two grains.

[FN#212] Or public appearance.

[FN#213] Solomon was the dynastic name of the kings of the prae-Adamite Jinn and is here used
in a generic sense, as Chosroes for the ancient Kings of Persia, Caesar for the Emperors of
Constantinople, Tubba for the Himyerite Kings of Yemen, etc., etc.

[FN#214] i.e. Maharajah.

[FN#215] Or "government."

[FN#216] Every Muslim is bound by law to give alms to the extent of two and half per cent. of
his property.

[FN#217] In North-east Persia.

[FN#218] Alleged to have been found by the Arab conquerors of Spain on the occasion of the
sack of Toledo and presented by them to the Ommiade Khalif El Welid ben Abdulmelik (A.D.
705-716). See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," Vol. III. p. 331.

[FN#219] i.e. such as are fit to be sent from king to king.

[FN#220] i.e, the price of his victual and other necessaries for the voyage.

[FN#221] Lit. riding-beast (French monture, no exact English equivalent), whether camel, mule
or horse does not appear.

[FN#222] The Envier and the Envied.

[FN#223] After the manner of Orientalists, a far more irritable folk than any poets.

[FN#224] By the by, apropos of this soi-disant complete translation of the great Arabian
collection of romantic fiction, it is difficult to understand how an Orientalist of repute, such as Dr.
Habicht, can have put forth publication of this kind, which so swarms with blunders of every
description as to throw the mistakes of all other translators completely into the shade and to
render it utterly useless to the Arabic scholar as a book of reference. We can only conjecture that
he must have left the main portion of the work to be executed, without efficient supervision, by
incapable collaborators or that he undertook and executed the translation in such haste as to
preclude the possibility of any preliminary examination and revision, worthy of the name, of the
original MS.; and this latter supposition appears to be borne out by the fact that the translation
was entirely published before the appearance of any portion of the Arabic Text, as printed from
the Tunis Manuscript. Whilst on the subject of German translations, it may be well to correct an
idea, which appears to prevail among non-Arabic scholars, to the effect that complete translations
of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night exist in the language of Hoffmann and Heine,
and which is (as far, at least, as my own knowledge extends) a completely erroneous one. I have,
I believe, examined all the German translations in existence and have found not one of them
worthy of serious consideration; the best, that of Hammer-Purgstall, to which I had looked for
help in the elucidation of doubtful and corrupt passages, being so loose and unfaithful, so
disfigured by ruthless retrenchments and abridgments, no less than by gross errors of all kinds,
that I found myself compelled to lay it aside as useless. It is but fair, however, to the memory of
the celebrated Austrian Orientalist, to state that the only form in which Von Hammer's translation
is procurable is that of the German rendering of Prof. Zinserling (1823-4), executed from the
original (French) manuscript, which latter was unfortunately lost before publication.

[FN#225] The Boulac Edition omits this story altogether.

[FN#226] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac 134b. "The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot."

[FN#227] This will be found translated in my "Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,"
Vol. VII. p. 307, as an Appendix to the Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac version of the story, from
which it differs in detail.

[FN#228] Called "Bekhit" in Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac Editions.

[FN#229] Yehya ben Khalid (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).

[FN#230] "Shar" (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).

[FN#231] "Jelyaad" (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).

[FN#232] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, No. 63. See my "Book of the Thousand Nights and
One Night," Vol. IV. p. 211.

[FN#233] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, "Jaafer the Barmecide."

[FN#234] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, "The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief," No.
88.

[FN#235] This story will be found translated in my "Book at the Thousand Nights and One
Night,' Vol. V. p. 345.

[FN#236] The Third Old Man's Story is wanting.

[FN#237] The Story of the Portress is wanting.

[FN#238] Calcutta (1839-42), Boulac and Breslan, "The Controller's Story."

[FN#239] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, "Sindbad the Sailor and Sindbad the Porter."

[FN#240] Tuhfeh.












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