One Thousand and One Nights, page 190
Now as God the All-powerful, who appointeth a cause to everything, had decreed, the Khalif was at that moment seated at one of the windows of his palace, overlooking the Tigris, in the light of the moon. He saw the lustre of the candles and lamps reflected in the river and lifting his eyes, perceived that it came from the garden-palace, which was in a blaze with light. So he called Jaafer the Barmecide and said to him, ‘O dog of a Vizier, has the city of Baghdad been taken from me and thou hast not told me?’ ‘What words are these?’ said Jaafer. ‘If Baghdad were not taken from me,’ rejoined the Khalif, ‘the Pavilion of Pictures would not be illuminated with lamps and candles, nor would its windows be open. Out on thee! Who would dare to do this except the Khalifate were taken from me?’ Quoth Jaafer (and indeed he trembled in every limb), ‘Who told thee that the pavilion was illuminated and the windows open?’ ‘Come hither and look,’ replied the Khalif. So Jaafer came to the window and looking towards the garden, saw the pavilion flaming with light, in the darkness of the night, and thinking that this might be by the leave of the keeper, for some good reason of his own, was minded to make an excuse for him. So he said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, Gaffer Ibrahim said to me last week, “O my lord Jaafer, I desire to circumcise my sons during thy life and that of the Commander of the Faithful.” “What dost thou want?” asked I; and he said, “Get me leave from the Khalif to hold the festival in the pavilion.” So I said to him, “Go, circumcise them, and I will see the Khalif and tell him.” So he went away and I forgot to tell thee.’ ‘O Jaafer,’ said the Khalif, ‘thou hast committed two offences against me, first, in that thou didst not tell me, secondly, in that thou didst not give the old man what he sought; for he only came and told thee this, by way of hinting a request for some small matter of money, to help him out with the expenses; and thou gavest him nothing nor toldest me.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Jaafer, ‘I forgot.’ ‘By the virtue of my forefathers,’ rejoined the Khalif, ‘I will not pass the rest of the night but with him, for he is a pious man, who consorts with the elders of the faith and the fakirs: doubtless they are now assembled with him and it may be that the prayer of one of them may profit us both in this world and the next. Besides, my presence will advantage him and he will be pleased.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ objected Jaafer, ‘the night is far spent, and they will now be about to break up.’ ‘It matters not,’ replied the Khalif; ‘I must and will go to them.’ And Jaafer was silent, being perplexed and knowing not what to do. Then the Khalif rose to his feet and taking with him Jaafer and Mesrour the eunuch, they all three disguised themselves as merchants and leaving the palace, walked on through the by-streets till they came to the garden. The Khalif went up to the gate and finding it open, was surprised and said to the Vizier, ‘Look, Jaafer, how Gaffer Ibrahim has left the gate open to this hour, contrary to his wont!’ They entered and walked on till they came under the pavilion, when the Khalif said, ‘O Jaafer, I wish to look in upon them privily before I join them, that I may see what they are about, for up to now I hear no sound nor any fakir naming God.’ Then he looked about and seeing a tall walnut-tree, said to Jaafer, ‘I will climb this tree, for its branches come near the windows, and so look in upon them.’ So he mounted the tree and climbed from branch to branch, till he reached a bough that came up to one of the windows. On this he seated himself and looking in at the window, saw a young lady and a young man as they were two moons (glory be to Him who created them and fashioned them!), and by them Gaffer Ibrahim seated, with a cup in his hand, saying, ‘O princess of fair ones, drink without music is nothing worth; indeed I have heard a poet say:
Pass round the wine in the great and the small cup too, And take
the bowl from the hands of the shining moon.
But without music, I charge you, forbear to drink, For sure I see
even horses drink to a whistled tune.’
When the Khalif saw this, the vein of anger started out between his eyes and he descended and said to the Vizier, ‘O Jaafer, never saw I men of piety in such a case! Do thou mount this tree and look upon them, lest the benisons of the devout escape thee.’ So Jaafer climbed up, perplexed at these words, and looking in, saw Noureddin and the damsel and Gaffer Ibrahim with a cup in his hand. At this sight, he made sure of ruin and descending, stood before the Commander of the Faithful, who said to him, ‘O Jaafer, praised be God who hath made us of those who observe the external forms of the Divine ordinances!’ Jaafer could make no answer for excess of confusion, and the Khalif continued, ‘I wonder how these people came hither and who admitted them into my pavilion! But the like of the beauty of this youth and this girl my eyes never beheld!’ ‘Thou art right, O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Jaafer, hoping to propitiate him. Then said the Khalif, ‘O Jaafer, let us both mount the branch that overlooks the window, that we may amuse ourselves with looking at them.’ So they both climbed the tree and looking in, heard Ibrahim say, ‘O my lady, I have laid aside gravity in drinking wine, but this is not thoroughly delectable without the melodious sound of the strings. ‘By Allah,’ replied Enis el Jelis, ‘if we had but some musical instrument, our joy would be complete!’ When the old man heard what she said, he rose to his feet, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, ‘I wonder what he is going to do.’ ‘I know not,’ replied Jaafer. Then Ibrahim went out and returned with a lute; and the Khalif looked at it and knew it for that of Isaac the boon-companion. ‘By Allah,’ said he, ‘if this damsel sing ill, I will crucify you, all of you; but if she sing well, I will pardon them and crucify thee.’ ‘God grant she may sing ill!’ said Jaafer ‘Why so?’ asked the Khalif. ‘Because,’ replied Jaafer ‘if thou crucify us all together, we shall keep each other company.’ The Khalif laughed at his speech; then the damsel took the lute and tuning it, played a measure which made all hearts yearn to her, then sang the following verses:
O ye that to help unhappy lovers are fain! We burn with the fire
of love and longing in vain.
Whatever ye do, we merit it: see, we cast Ourselves on your ruth!
Do not exult in our pain.
For we are children of sadness and low estate. Do with us what
you will; we will not complain.
What were your glory to slay us within your courts? Our fear is
but lest you sin in working us bane.
‘By Allah,’ said the Khalif, ‘it is good, O Jaafer! Never in my life have I heard so enchanting a voice!’ ‘Belike,’ said Jaafer, ‘the Khalif’s wrath hath departed from him.’ ‘Yes,’ said the Khalif, ‘it is gone.’ Then they descended from the tree, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, ‘I wish to go in and sit with them and hear the damsel sing before me.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Jaafer, ‘if thou go in to them, they will most like be troubled and Gaffer Ibrahim will assuredly die of fright.’ ‘O Jaafer,’ said the Khalif, ‘thou must teach me some device, whereby I may foregather with them, without being known of them.’ So they walked on towards the Tigris, considering of this affair, and presently came upon a fisher man standing fishing under the windows of the pavilion. Now some time before this, the Khalif (being in the pavilion) had called to Gaffer Ibrahim and said to him, ‘What is this noise I hear under the windows?’ ‘It is the voices of the fishermen, fishing,’ answered he; and the Khalif commanded him to go down and forbid them to resort thither; so the fishermen were forbidden to fish there. However, that night a fisherman named Kerim, happening to pass by and seeing the garden gate open, said to himself, ‘This is a time of negligence: I will take advantage of it to fish.’ So he went in, but had hardly cast his net, when the Khalif came up alone and standing behind him, knew him and called out to him, saying, ‘Ho, Kerim!’ The fisherman, hearing himself called by his name, turned round, and seeing the Khalif, trembled in every limb and exclaimed, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I did it not in mockery of the edict; but poverty and distress drove me to what thou seest.’ Quoth the Khalif, ‘Make a cast in my name.’ At this the fisherman was glad and going to the bank, cast his net, then waiting till it had spread out to the utmost and settled down, pulled it up and found in it various kinds of fish. The Khalif was pleased and said, ‘O Kerim, put off thy clothes.’ So he put off a gown of coarse woollen stuff, patched in a hundred places and full of disgusting vermin, and a turban that had not been unwound for three years, but to which he had sewn every rag he came across. The Khalif pulled off his cassock and mantle and two vests of Alexandria and Baalbec silk and saying to the fisherman, ‘Take these and put them on,’ donned the latter’s gown and turban and tied a chin band round the lower part of his face. Then said he to the fisherman, ‘Go about thy business.’ So he kissed the Khalif’s feet and thanked him and recited the following verses:
