The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night Volume II Part 6

"Allah upon thee," exclaimed she, "take me with thee and deprive me not of visitation to the tomb of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and keep!" And he answered, "As soon as it is dark night, do thou come forth from this place, without telling any."

Accordingly,When it was the middle of the night she arose and took somewhat of money and donned a man's habit; and she ceased not walking to the palace gate, where she found Zau al-Makan with camels ready for marching. So he mounted and mounted her; and the two fared on till they were in the midst of the Iraki[FN#231]

pilgrim-party, and they ceased not marching and Allah wrote safety for them, till they entered Meccah the Holy and stood upon Arafat and performed the pilgrimage rites. Then they made a visitation to the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and a.s.sain!) and thought to return with the pilgrims to their native land. But Zau al-Makan said to his sister, "O my sister, it is in my mind to visit the Holy House,[FN#232] Jerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of Allah[FN#233] (on whom be peace!)." "I also desire so to do," replied she. So they agreed upon this and he fared forth and took pa.s.sage for himself and her and they made ready and set out in the s.h.i.+p with a company of Jerusalem palmers. That very night the sister fell sick of an aguish chill, and was grievously ill but presently recovered, after which the brother also sickened. She tended him during his malady and they ceased not wayfaring till they arrived at Jerusalem, but the fever increased on him and he grew weaker and weaker. They alighted at a Khan and there hired a lodging; but Zau al- Makan's sickness ceased not to increase on him, till he was wasted with leanness and became delirious. At this, his sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!

This is the decree of Allah!" They sojourned in that place awhile, his weakness ever increasing and she attending him and buying necessaries for him and for herself, till all the money she had was expended and she became so poor that she had not so much as a dirham left. Then she sent a servant of the Khan to the bazar with some of her clothes, and he sold them and she spent the price upon her brother; then sold she something more and she ceased not selling all she had, piece by piece, till nothing was left but an old rug. Whereupon she wept and exclaimed, "Verily is Allah the Orderer of the past and the future!" Presently her brother said to her, "O my sister, I feel recovery drawing near and my heart longeth for a little roast meat." "By Allah! O my brother," replied she, "I have no face to beg; but tomorrow I will enter some rich man's house and serve him and earn somewhat for our living." Then she bethought herself awhile and said, "Of a truth 'tis hard for me to leave thee and thou in this state, but I must despite myself!" He rejoined, "Allah forbid! Thou wilt be put to shame; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!" And he wept and she wept too. Then she said, "O my brother, we are strangers who have dwelt here a full year, but none hath yet knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no resource but that I go out and do service and earn somewhat to keep us alive, till thou recover from thy sickness, when we will travel back to our native land." She sat weeping awhile and he wept too, propped upon his elbow. Then Nuzhat al-Zaman arose and, veiling her head with a bit of camlet,[FN#234] which had been of the cameleer's clothes and which the owner had forgotten and left with them; she kissed the head of her brother and embraced him and went forth from him, weeping and knowing not whither she should wend. And she stinted not going and her brother Zau al-Makan awaiting her return till the supper time; but she came not, and he watched for her till the morning morrowed but still she returned not; and this endured till two days went by. He was greatly troubled thereat and his heart fluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left the chamber and, calling the servant of the caravanserai, said, "I wish thee to bear me to the bazar." So he carried him to the market street and laid him down there; and the people of Jerusalem gathered round him and were moved to tears seeing his condition. He signed to them begging for somewhat to eat; so they brought him some money from certain of the merchants who were in the bazar, and bought food and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a shop, where they spread him a mat of palm leaves and set an ewer of water at his head. When night fell, all the folk went away, sore concerned for him and, in the middle of the night, he called to mind his sister and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he abstained from eating and drinking and became insensible to the world around him. Then the bazar people arose and took for him from the merchants thirty seven dirhams, and hiring a camel, said to the driver, "Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him in the hospital; haply he may be cured and recover health." "On my head be it!" replied the camel man; but he said to himself, "How shall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?" So he carried him away to a place and hid with him till the night, when he threw him down on the ash heap near the fire hole of a Hammam and went his way. When morning dawned the Stoker[FN#235] of the bath came to his work and, finding Zau al-Makan cast on his back, exclaimed, "Why did they not throw their dead body anywhere but here?" So saying, he gave him a kick and he moved; whereupon quoth the Fireman, "Some one of you who hath eaten a bit of Has.h.i.+sh and hath thrown himself down in whatso place it be!" Then he looked at his face and saw his hairless cheeks and his grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that he was sick and a stranger in the land. And he cried, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! verily, I have sinned against this youth, for indeed the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!) enjoineth honour to the stranger, more especially when the stranger is sick." Then he carried him home and went in with him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she spread him a sleeping rug and set a cus.h.i.+on under his head, then warmed water for him and washed therewith his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the Stoker went to the market and bought some rose water and sugar, and sprinkled Zau al-Makan's face with the water and gave him to drink of the sherbet. Then he fetched a clean s.h.i.+rt and put it on him. With this, Zau al-Makan sniffed the zephyr of health and recovery returned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. Hereat the Fireman rejoiced and exclaimed, "Praise be to Allah for the welfare of this youth! O Allah, I beseech Thee by Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make the salvation of this youth to be at my hands!"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fireman exclaimed, "O Allah, I beseech Thee of Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make this young man's life the work of my hands!" And he ceased not to nurse him for three days, giving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow flower water and rose water; and doing him all manner of service and kindness, till health began to return to his body and Zau al-Makan opened his eyes. Presently came in the Fireman and, seeing him sitting up and showing signs of amendment, said to him, "What is now thy state, O my son?" "Praise be to Allah," replied Zau al-Makan, "I am well and like to recover, if such be the will of Allah Almighty at this time." The Stoker praised the Lord of All for this and, wending fast to the market, bought ten chickens, which he carried to his wife and said, "Kill two of these for him every day, one at dawn of day and the other at fall of day." So she rose up and killed a fowl and brought it to him boiled, and fed him with the flesh and made him drink its broth. When he had done eating, she fetched hot water and he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow, whereupon she covered him up with the coverlet, and he slept till the time of the mid afternoon prayer.

Then she arose and killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut it up and, bringing it to Zau al-Makan, said, "Eat, O my son!" While he was eating; behold, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat down at his head and said to him, "How is it with thee now, O my son?" "Thanks be to Allah for recovery!" he replied: "may the Almighty requite thee thy kindness to me." At this the Fireman rejoiced and going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose water and made him drink it. Now the Stoker used to work at the Hammam all day for a wage of five dirhams, whereof he spent every day, for Zau al-Makan, one dirham upon sugar and sherbet of rose water and willow flower water,[FN#236]

and another dirham for fowls; and he ceased not to entreat him thus kindly during a whole month, till the traces of illness ceased from him and he was once more sound and whole. Thereupon the Fireman and his wife rejoiced and asked him, "O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?"; whereto he answered, "Yes!" So the Stoker went to the bazar and fetched a donkey boy, and he mounted Zau al-Makan on the a.s.s and supported him in the saddle till they came to the bath. Then he made him sit down and seated the donkey boy in the furnace-room and went forth to the market and bought Iote leaves and lupin-flour,[FN#237] with which he returned to the bath and said to Zau al-Makan, "O my master, in Allah's name, walk in and I will wash thy body." So they entered the inner room of the bath, and the Fireman took to rubbing Zau al-Makan's legs and began to wash his body with the leaves and meal, when there came to them a bathman, whom the bath keeper had sent to Zau al-Makan; and he, seeing the Stoker was.h.i.+ng and rubbing him, said, "This is doing injury to the keeper's rights."

Replied the Fireman, "The master overwhelmeth us with his favours!" Then the bathman proceeded to shave Zau al-Makan's head, after which he and the Stoker washed themselves and returned to the house, where he clad Zau al-Makan in a s.h.i.+rt of fine stuff and a robe of his own; and gave him a handsome turband and girdle and a light kerchief which he wound about his neck.

Meanwhile the Fireman's wife had killed and cooked two chickens; so, as soon as Zau al-Makan entered and seated himself on the carpet, the husband arose and, dissolving sugar in willow flower water, made him drink of it. Then he brought the food tray and, cutting up the chickens, fed him with the flesh and gave him the broth to drink till he was satisfied; when he washed his hands and praised Allah for recovery, and said to the Fireman, "Thou art he whom the Almighty vouchsafed to me and made the cause of my cure!" "Leave this talk," replied the other, "and tell us the cause of thy coming to this city and whence thou art. Thy face showeth signs of gentle breeding." "Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me," said Zau al-Makan; "and after I will tell thee my story." Rejoined the Fireman, "As for that, I found thee lying on the rubbish heap by the door of the fire house, as I went to my work near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee there. So I carried thee home with me; and this is all my tale." Quoth Zau al-Makan, "Glory to Him who quickeneth the bones, though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done good save to one worthy of it, and thou shalt presently gather its fruitage." And he added, "But where am I now?" "Thou art in the city of Jerusalem," replied the Stoker; where upon Zau al-Makan called to mind his strangerhood and remembered his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered his secret to the Fireman and told him his story and began repeating,

"In love they bore me further than my force would go, * And for them made me suffer resurrection throe: Oh, have compa.s.sion, cruel! on this soul of mine * Which, since ye fared, is pitied by each envious foe; Nor grudge the tender mercy of one pa.s.sing glance * My case to lighten, easing this excess of woe: Quoth I 'Heart, bear this loss in patience!' Patience cried *

'Take heed! no patience in such plight I'm wont to show.' "

Then he redoubled his weeping, and the Fireman said to him, "Weep not, but rather praise Allah for safety and recovery." Asked Zau al-Makan, "How far is it hence to Damascus?" Answered the other, "Six days' journey." Then quoth Zau al-Makan, "Wilt thou send me thither?" "O my lord," quoth the Stoker, "how can I allow thee to go alone, and thou a youth and a stranger to boot? If thou would journey to Damascus, I am one who will go with thee; and if my wife will listen to and obey me and accompany me, I will take up my abode there; for it is no light matter to part with thee."

Then said he to his wife, "Wilt thou travel with me to Damascus of Syria or wilt thou abide here, whilst I lead this my lord thither and return to thee? For he is bent upon going to Damascus of Syria and, by Allah, it is hard to me to part with him, and I fear for him from highway men." Replied she, "I will go with you both;" and he rejoined, "Praised be Allah for accord, and we have said the last word!" Then he rose and selling all his own goods and his wife's gear,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,

When it was the Fifty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fire man and his wife agreed with Zau al-Makan to travel with him Damascus wards. Then the Stoker sold his goods and his wife's gear and bought a camel and hired an a.s.s for Zau al-Makan; and they set out, and ceased not wayfaring for six days till they reached Damascus. And they arrived there towards eventide; when the Fireman went forth and, as was his wont, bought some meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in Damascus, when his wife sickened and, after a short illness, was translated to the mercy of Almighty Allah. Her death was a heavy matter to Zau al-Makan, for he was grown used to her as she had tended him a.s.siduously; and the Fireman grieved for her with excessive grief. Presently the Prince turned to the Stoker and finding him mourning, said to him, "Grieve not, for at this gate we must all go in." Replied he, "Allah make weal thy lot, O my son! Surely He will compensate us with His favours and cause our mourning to cease.

What sayst thou, O my son, about our walking abroad to view Damascus and cheer thy spirits?" Replied Zau al-Makan, "Thy will is mine." So the Fireman arose and placed his hand in that of Zau al- Makan and the two walked on till they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs, and horses ready saddled and Bactrian dromedaries, while Mamelukes and negro slaves and folk in a hubbub were running to and fro. Quoth Zau al-Makan, "I wonder to whom belong all these chattels and camels and stuffs!"

So he asked one of the eunuchs, "Whither this dispatching?'' and he answered, "These are presents sent by the Emir of Damascus to King Omar bin al-Nu'uman, with the tribute of Syria." Now when Zau al-Makan heard his father's name his eyes brimmed over with tears, and he began repeating,

"Oh ye gone from the gaze of these ridded eyne, * Ye whose sight in my spirit shall ever dwell!

Your charms are gone, but this heart of me * Hath no sweet, and no pleasures its sour dispel; If Allah's grace make us meet again, * In long drawn love-tale my love I'll tell."

And when he had ended his verse, he wept and the Fireman said to him, "O my son, we hardly believed that thy health had returned;[FN#238] so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a relapse for thee." And he ceased not comforting and cheering him, whilst Zau al-Makan sighed and moaned over his strangerhood and separation from his sister and his family; and tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,

"Get thee provaunt in this world ere thou wend upon thy way, *

And know how surely Death descends thy life lot to waylay: All thy worldly goods are pride and the painfullest repine; * All thy worldly life is vexing, of thy soul in vain display: Say is not worldly wone like a wanderer's place of rest, * Where at night he 'nakhs'[FN#239] his camels and moves off at dawn of day?"

And he continued to weep and wail over his separation; whilst the Fireman also bewept the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zau al-Makan till morning dawned. When the sun rose, he said to him, "Meseemeth thou yearnest for thy native land?"

"Yes," replied Zau al-Makan, "and I can no longer tarry here; so I will commend thee to Allah's care and set out with these folk and journey with them, little by little, till I come to my mother land." Said the Stoker, "And I with thee; for of a truth I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee kindly service and I mean to complete it by tending thee on thy travel." At this, Zau al-Makan rejoiced and said, "Allah abundantly requite thee for me!" and was pleased with the idea of their travelling together.

The Fireman at once went forth and bought another a.s.s, selling the camel; and laid in his provaunt and said to Zau al-Makan, "This is for thee to ride by the way; and, when thou art weary of riding, thou canst dismount and walk." Said Zau al-Makan, "May Allah bless thee and aid me to requite thee! for verily thou hast dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother." Then he waited till it was dark night, when he laid the provisions and baggage on that a.s.s and set forth upon their journey. This much befel Zau al-Makan and the Fireman; but as regards what happened to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman, when she left her brother in the Khan where they abode and, wrapped in the old camlet, went out to seek service with some one, that she might earn wherewithal to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was occupied with thoughts of her brother and of her family and her native land.

So she implored Allah Almighty to do away with these calamities from them and began versifying,

"Dark falls the night and Pa.s.sion comes sore pains to gar me dree, * And pine upstirs those ceaseless pangs which work my tormentry, And cease not separation flames my vitals to consume, * And drives me on destruction way this sorrow's ecstacy And longing breeds me restlessness; desire for ever fires, * And tears to all proclaim what I would keep in secrecy No cunning s.h.i.+ft is known to me a meeting to secure, * That I may quit this sickly state, may cure my malady: The love which blazeth in my heart is fed with fancy fuel, * The lover from its h.e.l.l of fire must bear h.e.l.l's agony![FN#240]

O thou who blamest me for all befel me, 'tis enough, * Patient I bear what ever wrote the Reed of Doom for me: By Love I swear I'll never be consoled, no, never more; * I swear the oath of Love's own slaves who know no perjury: O Night, to chroniclers of Love the news of me declare; * That sleep hath fed mine eyelids of thy knowledge witness bear!"

Then she walked on, weeping and turning right and left as she went, when behold, there espied her an old Badawi[FN#241] who had come into the town from the desert with wild Arabs other five.

The old man took note of her and saw that she was lovely, but she had nothing on her head save a piece of camlet, and, marvelling at her beauty, he said to himself, "This charmer dazzleth men's wits but she is in squalid condition, and whether she be of the people of this city or she be a stranger, I needs must have her."

So he followed her, little by little, till he met her face to face and stopped the way before her in a narrow lane, and called out to her, asking her case, and said, "Tell me, O my little daughter! art thou a free woman or a slave?" When she heard this, she said to him, "By thy life, do not add to my sorrows!"

Quoth he, "Allah hath blessed me with six daughters, of whom five died and only one is left me, the youngest of all; and I came to ask thee if thou be of the folk of this city or a stranger; that I might take thee and carry thee to her, to bear her company so as to divert her from pining for her sisters. If thou have no kith and kin, I will make thee as one of them and thou and she shall be as my two children." Nuzhat al-Zaman bowed her head in bashfulness when she heard what he said and communed with herself, "Haply I may trust myself to this old man." Then she said to him, "O nuncle, I am a maiden of the Arabs and a stranger and I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy daughter on one condition, which is, that I may spend only the day with her and at night may return to my brother. If thou strike this bargain I will fare with thee, for I am a stranger and I was high in honour among my tribe, and I awoke one morning to find myself vile and abject. I came with my brother from the land of Al-Hijaz and I fearless he know not where I am." When the Badawi heard this, he said to himself, "By Allah, I have got my desire!" Then he turned to her and replied, "There shall none be dearer to me than thou; I wish thee only to bear my daughter company by day and thou shalt go to thy brother at earliest nightfall. Or, if thou wilt, bring him over to dwell with us."

And the Badawi ceased not to console her heart and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve him. Then he walked on before her and, when she followed him, he winked to his men to go in advance and harness the dromedaries and load them with their packs and place upon them water and provisions, ready for setting out as soon as he should come up with the camels. Now this Badawi was a base born churl, a highway thief and a traitor to the friend he held most fief, a rogue in grain, past master of plots and chicane. He had no daughter and no son and was only pa.s.sing through the town when, by the decree of the Decreer, he fell in with this unhappy one. And he ceased not to hold her in converse on the highway till they came without the city of Jerusalem and, when outside, he joined his companions and found they had made ready the dromedaries. So the Badawi mounted a camel, having seated Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him and they rode on all night. Then she knew that the Badawi's proposal was a snare and that he had tricked her; and she continued weeping and crying out the whole night long, while they journeyed on making for the mountains, in fear any should see them. Now when it was near dawn, they dismounted from their dromedaries and the Badawi came up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and said to her, "O city strumpet, what is this weeping? By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I will beat thee to death, O thou town filth!" When she heard this she loathed life and longed for death; so she turned to him and said, "O accursed old man, O gray beard of h.e.l.l, how have I trusted thee and thou hast played me false, and now thou wouldst torture me?" When he heard her reply he cried out, "O lazy baggage, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?" And he stood up to her and beat her with a whip, saying, "An thou hold not thy peace, I will kill thee!" So she was silent awhile, then she called to mind her brother and the happy estate she had been in and she shed tears secretly. Next day, she turned to the Badawi and said to him, "How couldst thou play me this trick and lure me into these bald and stony mountains, and what is thy design with me?" When he heard her words he hardened his heart and said to her, "O lazy baggage of ill omen and insolent! wilt thou bandy words with me?" and he took the whip and came down with it on her back till she felt faint. Then she bowed down over his feet and kissed[FN#242] them; and he left beating her and began reviling her and said, "By the rights of my bonnet,[FN#243] if I see or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and stuff it up thy coynte, O thou city filth!" So she was silent and made him no reply, for the beating pained her; but sat down with her arms round her knees and, bowing her head upon her collar, began to look into her case and her abas.e.m.e.nt after her lot of high honour; and the beating she had endured; and she called to mind her brother and his sickness and forlorn condition, and how they were both strangers in a far country, which crave her tears down her cheeks and she wept silently and began repeating,

"Time hath for his wont to upraise and debase, * Nor is lasting condition for human race: In this world each thing hath appointed turn; * Nor may man transgress his determined place: How long these perils and woes? Ah woe * For a life, all woeful in parlous case!

Allah bless not the days which have laid me low * I' the world, with disgrace after so much grace!

My wish is baffled, my hopes cast down, * And distance forbids me to greet his face: O thou who pa.s.seth that dear one's door, * Say for me, these tears shall flow evermore!"

When she had finished her verses, the Badawi came up to her and, taking compa.s.sion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears. Then he gave her a barley scone and said, "I love not one who answereth at times when I am in wrath: so henceforth give me no more of these impertinent words and I will sell thee to a good man like myself, who will do well with thee, even as I have done." "Yes; whatso thou doest is right," answered she; and when the night was longsome upon her and hunger burnt her, she ate very little of that barley bread. In the middle of the night the Badawi gave orders for departure,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Badawi gave the barley scone to Nuzhat al-Zaman and promised he would sell her to a good man like himself, she replied, "Whatso thou doest is right!" and, about midnight when hunger burned her,[FN#244] she ate a very little of that barley bread and the Badawi ordered his party to set out; so they loaded their loads and he mounted a camel setting Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him. Then they journeyed and ceased not journeying for three days, till they entered the city of Damascus and alighted at the Sultan's Khan, hard by the Viceroy's Gate. Now she had lost her colour by grief and the fatigue of such travelling, and she ceased not to weep over her misfortunes. So the Badawi came up to her and said, "O thou city filth, by the right of my bonnet, if thou leave not this weeping, I will sell thee to none but a Jew!" Then he arose and took her by the hand and carried her to a chamber, and walked off to the bazar, and he went round to, the merchants who dealt in slave girls, and began to parley with them, saying, "I have brought a slave girl whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my people about Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he is cured. As for her I want to sell her, but after the dog her brother fell sick, the separation from him was grievous to her, and since then she doth nothing but weep, and now I wish that whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her and say, 'Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem ill'; and I will be easy with him about her price." Then one of the merchants came up to him and asked, "How old is she?" He answered "She is a virgin, just come to marriageable age, and she is endowed with sense and breeding and wit and beauty and loveliness. But from the day I sent her brother to Jerusalem, her heart hath been yearning for him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value lessened."

Now when the merchant heard this, he set forth with the Badawi and said, "O Shaykh[FN#245] of the Arabs, I will go with thee and buy of thee this girl whom thou praisest so highly for wit and manners and beauty and loveliness; and I will pay thee her price but it must be upon conditions which if thou accept, I will give thee ready money, and if thou accept not I will return her to thee." Quoth the Badawi, "An thou wilt, take her up to the Sultan Sharrkan, son of Omar bin al-Nu'uman lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorasan, and condition me any conditions thou likest, for when thou hast brought her before King Sharrkan, haply she will please him, and he will pay thee her price and a good profit for thyself to boot." Rejoined the merchant, "It happens that I have just now something to ask from him, and it is this that he write me an order upon the office, exempting me from custom dues and also that he write me a letter of recommendation to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu'uman. So if he take the girl, I will weigh[FN#246] thee out her price at once." "I agree with thee to this condition," answered the Badawi. So they returned together to the place where Nuzhat al-Zaman was and the wild Arab stood at the chamber door and called out, saying, "O Najiyah[FN#247]!"

which was the name wherewith he had named her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "There she sitteth; go to her and look at her and speak to her kindly as I enjoined thee." So the trader went up to her in courteous wise and saw that she was wondrous beautiful and loveable, especially as she knew the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Badawi, "If she be even as thou saddest, I shall get of the Sultan what I will for her." Then he bespake her, "Peace be on thee, my little maid! How art thou?" She turned to him and replied, "This also was registered in the Book of Destiny." Then she looked at him and, seeing him to be a man of respectable semblance with a handsome face, she said to herself, "I believe this one cometh to buy me;" and she continued, "If I hold aloof from him, I shall abide with my tyrant and he will do me to death with beating. In any case, this person is handsome of face and maketh me hope for better treatment from him than from my brute of a Badawi. May be he cometh only to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair answer."

All this while her eyes were fixed on the ground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice, "And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and Allah's mercy and His benediction![FN#248] This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and preserve!

As for thine enquiry how I am, if thou wouldst know my case, it is such as thou wouldst not wish but to thy foe." And she held her peace. When the merchant heard what she said, his fancy took wings for delight in her and, turning to the Badawi, he asked him, "What is her price, for indeed she is n.o.ble?" Thereupon the Badawi waxed angry and answered, "Thou wilt turn me the girl's head with this talk! Why dost thou say that she is n.o.ble,[FN#249] while she is of the sc.u.m of slave girls and of the refuse of folk? I will not sell her to thee!" When the merchant heard this, he knew the man to be weak of wits and said to him, "Calm thyself, for I will buy her of thee with these blemishes thou mentionest." "And how much wilt thou give me for her?"

enquired the Badawi. Replied the merchant, "Name thy price for her: none should name the son save his sire." Rejoined the Badawi, "None shall name it but thou thyself." Quoth the merchant to himself, "This wildling is a rudesby and a maggotty head. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she hath won my heart with her fair speech and good looks; and, if she can read and write, it will be complete fair luck to her and to her purchaser. But this Badawi does not know her worth." Then he turned and said to him, "O Shaykh of the Arabs, I will give thee in ready money, clear of the tax and the Sultan's dues, two hundred gold pieces."

Now when the Badawi heard this, he flew into a violent rage and cried at the merchant, saying, "Get up and go thy ways! By Allah, wert thou to offer me two hundred diners for the bit of camlet she weareth, I would not sell it to thee. And now I will not sell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and grind my grist." And he cried out to her, saying, "Come here, thou stinkard! I will not sell thee." Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "I used to think thee a man of judgment; but, by the right of my bonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what shall not please thee!" Quoth the merchant to himself, "Of a truth this Badawi is mad and knoweth not her value, and I will say no more to him about her price at the present time; for by Allah, were he a man of sense, he would not say, 'By the rights of my bonnet!' By the Almighty, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroes and I have not her price by me, but if he ask even more, I will give him what he will, though it be all my goods." Then he turned and said to him, "O Shaykh of the Arabs, take patience and calm thyself and tell me what clothes she hath with thee?" Cried the Badawi, "And what hath the baggage to do with clothes? By Allah, this camlet in which she is wrapped is ample for her." "With thy leave," said the merchant, "I will unveil her face and examine her even as folk examine slave girls whom they think of buying."[FN#250] Replied the other, "Up and do what thou wilt and Allah keep thy youth!

Examine her outside and inside and, if thou wilt, strip off her clothes and look at her when she is naked." Quoth the trader, "Allah forfend! I will look at naught save her face."[FN#251]

Then he went up to her and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness,--And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant went up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness, so he sat by her side and asked her, "O my mistress, what is thy name?" She answered, "Doss thou ask what is my name this day or what it was before this day?" Thereupon the merchant enquired, "Hast thou then two names: to day's and yesterday's?" "Yes," replied she, "my name in the past was Nuzhat al-Zaman, the Delight of the Age; but my name at this present is Ghussat[FN#252] al-Zaman, the Despight of the Age." When the merchant heard this his eyes brimmed over with tears and quoth he to her, "Hast thou not a sick brother?" "Ay by Allah, O my lord, I have," quoth she, "but fortune hath parted me and him and he lieth sick in Jerusalem." The merchant's head was confounded at the sweetness of her speech and he said to himself, "Verily, the Badawi spake the truth of her." Then she called to mind her brother and his sickness and his strangerhood and her separation from him in his hour of weakness and her not knowing what had befallen him; and she thought of all that had happened to her with the Badawi and of her severance from her mother and father and native land; and the tears coursed down her cheeks and fast as they started they dropped; and she began reciting,

"Allah, where'er thou be, His aid impart * To thee, who distant dwellest in my heart!

Allah be near thee how so far thou fare; * Ward off all s.h.i.+fts of Time, all dangers thwart!

Mine eyes are desolate for thy vanisht sight, * And start my tears-ah me, how fast they start!

Would Heaven I kenned what quarter or what land * Homes thee, and in what house and tribe thou art An fount of life thou drain in greenth of rose, * While drink I tear drops for my sole desert?

An thou 'joy slumber in those hours, when I * Peel 'twixt my side and couch coals' burning smart?

All things were easy save to part from thee, * For my sad heart this grief is hard to dree."

When the merchant heard her verses, he wept and put out his hand to wipe away the tears from her cheeks; but she let down her veil over her face, saying, "Heaven forbid, O my lord!''[FN#253] Then the Badawi, who was sitting at a little distance watching them, saw her cover her face from the merchant while about to wipe the tears from her cheeks; and he concluded that she would have hindered him from handling her: so he rose and running to her, dealt her, with a camel's halter he had in his hand, such a blow on the shoulders that she fell to the ground on her face. Her eyebrow struck a stone which cut it open, and the blood streamed down her cheeks; whereupon she screamed a loud scream and felt faint and wept bitterly. The merchant was moved to tears for her and said in himself, "There is no help for it but that I buy this damsel, though at her weight in gold, and free her from this tyrant." And he began to revile the Badawi whilst Nazhat al- Zaman lay in sensible. When she came to herself, she wiped away the tears and blood from her face; and she bound up her head: then, raising her glance to heaven, she besought her Lord with a sorrowful heart and began repeating,

"And pity one who erst in honour throve, * And now is fallen into sore disgrace.

She weeps and bathes her cheeks with railing tears, * And asks 'What cure can meet this fatal case?'"

When she had ended her verse, she turned to the merchant and said in an undertone, "By the Almighty, do not leave me with a tyrant who knoweth not Allah the Most High! If I pa.s.s this night in his place, I shall kill myself with my own hand: save me from him, so Allah save thee from Gehenna-fire." Then quoth the merchant to the Badawi, "O Shaykh of the Arabs, this slave is none of thine affair; so do thou sell her to me for what thou wilt." "Take her," quoth the Badawi, "and pay me down her price, or I will carry her back to the camp and there set her to feed the camels and gather their dung."[FN#254] Said the merchant, "I will give thee fifty thousand diners for her." "Allah will open!"[FN#255]

replied the Badawi. "Seventy thousand," said the merchant.

"Allah will open!" repeated the Badawi: "this is not the capital spent upon her, for she hath eaten with me barley bread to the value of ninety thousand gold pieces." The merchant rejoined, "Thou and thine and all thy tribe in the length of your lives have not eaten a thousand ducats' worth of barley; but I will say thee one word, wherewith if thou be not satisfied, I will set the Viceroy of Damascus on thee and he will take her from thee by force." The Badawi continued, "Say on!" "An hundred thousand,"

quoth the merchant. "I have sold her to thee at that price,"

answered the Badawi; "I shall be able to buy salt with her." The merchant laughed and, going to his lodgings, brought the money and put it into the hand of the Badawi, who took it and made off, saying to himself, "Needs must I go to Jerusalem where, haply, I shall happen on her brother, and I will bring him here and sell him also." So he mounted and journeyed till he arrived at Jerusalem, where he went to the Khan and asked for Zau al-Makan, but could not find him. Such was the case with him; but for what regards the merchant and Nazhat al-Zaman, when he took her he threw some of his clothes over her and carried her to his lodgings,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-eighth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the trader saved Nuzhat al-Zaman from the Badawi and bore her to his lodgings and robed her in the richest raiment, he went down with her to the bazar, where he bought her what ornaments she chose and put them in a satin bag, which he set before her, saying, "All is for thee and I ask nothing of thee in return but that, when I lead thee to the Sultan, Viceroy of Damascus, thou acquaint him with the price I paid for thee, albeit it was little compared with thy value: and, if seeing thee he buy thee of me, thou tell him how I have dealt with thee and ask of him for me a royal patent, and a written recommendation wherewith I can repair to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu'uman, Lord of Baghdad, to the intent that he may forbid the tax on my stuffs or any other goods in which I traffic." When she heard his words, she wept and sobbed, and the merchant said to her, "O my lady, I observe that, every time I mention Baghdad, thine eyes are tearful: is there any one there whom thou lovest? If it be a trader or the like, tell me; for I know all the merchants and so forth there and, if thou wouldst send him a message, I will bear it for thee."

Replied she, "By Allah, I have no acquaintance among merchant folk and the like! I know none there but King Omar bin Nu'uman, Lord of Baghdad." When the merchant heard her words, he laughed and rejoiced with exceeding joy and said in himself, "By Allah, I have won my wis.h.!.+" Then he said to her, "Hast thou been shown to him in time past?" She answered, "No, but I was brought up with his daughter and he holdeth me dear and I have high honour with him; so if thou wouldst have the King grant thee thy desire, give me ink case and paper and I will write thee a letter; and when thou reachest the city of Baghdad, do thou deliver it into the hand of King Omar bin al-Nu'uman and say to him, 'Thy handmaid, Nuzhat al-Zaman, would have thee to know that the chances and changes of the nights and days have struck her as with a hammer, and have smitten her so that she hath been sold from place to place, and she sendeth thee her salams.' And, if he ask further of her, say that I am now with the Viceroy at Damascus." The merchant wondered at her eloquence, and his affection for her increased and he said to her I cannot but think that men have played upon thine understanding and sold thee for money. Tell me, dost thou know the Koran by heart?" "Yes," answered she; "and I am also acquainted with philosophy and medicine and the prolegomena of science and the commentaries of Galen, the physician, on the canons of Hippocrates; and I have commented him and I have read the Tazkirah and have commented the Burhan; and I have studied the Simples of Ibn Baytar, and I have something to say of the canon of Meccah, by Avicenna. I can ree riddles and can solve ambiguities, and discourse upon geometry and am skilled in anatomy I have read the books of the Shafi'i[FN#256] school and the Traditions of the Prophet and syntax; and I can argue with the Olema and discourse of all manner learning. Moreover I am skilled in logic and rhetoric and arithmetic and the making of talismans and almanacs, and I know thoroughly the Spiritual Sciences[FN#257] and the times appointed for religious duties and I understand all these branches of knowledge." Then quoth she to the merchant, "Bring me ink case and paper, that I write thee a letter which shall aid thee on thy journey to Baghdad and enable thee to do without pa.s.sports." Now when the merchant heard this, he cried out "Brava! Brava![FN#258] Then O happy he in whose palace thou shalt! Thereupon he brought her paper and ink case and a pen of bra.s.s and bussed the earth before her face to do her honour. She took a sheet and handled the reed and wrote therewith these verses,

"I see all power of sleep from eyes of me hath flown; * Say, did thy parting teach these eyne on wake to wone?

What makes thy memory light such burnings in my heart? * Hath every lover strength such memories to own?

How sweet the big dropped cloud which rained on summer day; *

'Tis gone and ere I taste its sweets afar 'tis flown: I pray the wind with windy breath to bring some news * From thee, to lover wightwi' love so woe begone Complains to thee a lover of all hope forlorn, * For parting pangs can break not only heart but stone."

And when she had ended writing the verses she continued, "These words are from her who saith that melancholy destroyeth her and that watching wasteth her; in the murk of whose night is found no light and darkness and day are the same in her sight. She tosseth on the couch of separation and her eyes are blackened with the pencils of sleeplessness; she watcheth the stars arise and into the gloom she strains her eyes: verily, sadness and leanness have consumed her strength and the setting forth of her case would run to length. No helper hath she but tears and she reciteth these verses,

'No ring dove moans from home on branch in morning light, * But shakes my very frame with sorrow's killing might: No lover sigheth for his love or gladdeth heart * To meet his mate, but breeds in me redoubled blight I bear my plaint to one who has no ruth for me, * Ah me, how Love can part man's mortal frame and sprite!' "