One Thousand and One Nights, page 339
Presently the old woman went out and left them alone together till the next morning, when she went in to them and gave them good morrow and said to the damsel, “How hast thou passed the night, O my lady?” “Well,” answered the girl, “thanks to thine adroitness and the excellence of thine intermediation.” Then said the old woman, “Come, let us go back to thy mother.” But the young man pulled out a hundred dinars and gave them to her, saying, “Take this and leave her with me to-night.” So she left them and repaired to the girl’s mother, to whom quoth she, “Thy daughter salutes thee, and the bride’s mother is instant with her to abide with her this night.” “O my sister,” replied the mother, “bear her my greeting, and if it please the girl, there is no harm in her staying the night; so let her do this and divert herself and come back to me at her leisure, for all I fear for her is chagrin on account of her husband.”
The old woman ceased not to make excuse after excuse and to put off cheat upon cheat upon the girl’s mother, till Muhziyeh had tarried seven days with the young man, of whom she took a hundred dinars each day for herself; but at the end of this time, the girl’s mother said to her, “Bring my daughter back to me forthright; for I am uneasy about her, because she has been so long absent, and I misdoubt me of this.” So the old woman went out, angered at her words, and going to the young man’s house, took the girl by the hand and carried her away, leaving him lying asleep on his bed, for he was heavy with wine. Her mother received her with joy and gladness and rejoiced in her with an exceeding joy, saying, “O my daughter, my heart was troubled about thee, and in my uneasiness I offended against this my sister with an injurious speech, that wounded her.” “Rise and kiss her hands and feet,” replied Muhziyeh; “else art thou no mother of mine; for she hath been to me as a servant in doing all I needed.” So the mother went up to the old woman and made her peace with her.
Meanwhile, the young man recovered from his drunkenness and missed the damsel, but was content to have enjoyed his desire. Presently, the old woman came in to him and saluted him, saying, “What thinkest thou of my fashion?” Quoth he, “It was excellently well contrived of thee.” Then said she, “Come, let us mend what we have marred and restore the girl to her husband, for we have been the cause of their separation.” “How shall I do?” asked he, and she answered, “Go to Aboul Feth’s shop and salute him and sit down by him, till thou seest me pass by, when do thou rise in haste and catch hold of my dress and revile me and rail at me, demanding of me the veil. And do thou say to the merchant, ‘O my lord, thou knowest the face-veil I bought of thee for fifty dinars? I gave it to a slave-girl of mine, who burnt a corner of it by accident; so she gave it to this old woman, who took it, promising to get it darned and return it, and went away, nor have I seen her from that day to this.’” “With all my heart,” replied the young man and rising forthrtght, repaired to the shop of the silk merchant, with whom he sat till he saw the old woman pass, telling her beads on a rosary she held in her hand; whereupon he sprang up and laying hold of her clothes, began to revile and rail at her, whilst she answered him with fair words, saying, “Indeed, my son, thou art excusable.”
The people of the bazaar flocked round them, saying, “What is to do?” and he replied, “Know, O folk, that I bought a veil of this merchant for fifty dinars and gave it to my slave-girl, who wore it awhile, then sat down to fumigate it. Presently, a spark flew out of the chafing dish and lighting on the edge of the veil, burnt a hole in it. So we committed it to this pestilent old woman, that she might give it to who should darn it and return it to us, and we have never set eyes on her again till this day.” “This young man speaks the truth,” answered the old woman. “I did indeed have the veil of him, but I took it with me into one of the houses where I used to visit and forgot it there, nor do I know where I left it; and being a poor woman, I feared its owner and dared not face him.”
Now the girl’s husband was listening to all they said and when he heard the tale that the crafty old woman had contrived with the young man, he rose to his feet and said, “God is Most Great! I crave pardon of the Almighty for my offences and what my heart suspected!” And he praised God who had discovered to him the truth. Then he accosted the old woman and said to her, “Dost thou use to visit us?” “O my son,” replied she, “I visit you and other than you, for the sake of alms; but from that day to this, none hath given me any news of the veil.” Quoth the merchant, “Hast thou asked at my house?” “O my lord,” answered she, “I did indeed go to thy house and ask; but they told me that the lady of the house had been divorced by her husband; so I asked no farther.” With this, the merchant turned to the young man and said, “Let the old woman go her way; for the veil is with me.” So saying, he brought it out from the shop and gave it to the darner before all the folk. Then he betook himself to the damsel and giving her some money, took her again to wife, after making abundance of excuses to her and asking pardon of God, because he knew not what the old woman had done. This then, O King,’ said the Vizier, ‘is an instance of the malice of women, and for another to the same purport, I have heard tell that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
The King’s Son and the Afrits Mistress.
A certain king’s son was once walking alone for his pleasure, when he came to a green meadow, abounding in trees laden with fruit and birds singing on the branches, and a river running through it. The place pleased him; so he sat down there and taking out some conserves he had brought with him, began to eat. Presently, he espied a great smoke rising up to heaven and taking fright, climbed up into a tree and hid himself among the branches. Thence he saw an Afrit rise out of the midst of the stream, with a chest of marble, secured by a padlock, on his head. He set down the chest on the sward and opened it, and there came forth a damsel like the sun shining in the cloudless sky. He gazed on her awhile, then laid his head in her lap and fell asleep, whereupon she lifted up his head and laying it on the chest, rose and walked about.
Presently, she chanced to raise her eyes to the tree in which was the prince, and seeing him, signed to him to come down. He refused, but she swore to him that, except he came down and did as she bade him, she would wake the Afrit and point him out to him, when he would straightway kill him. The prince, fearing she would do as she said, came down, whereupon she kissed his hands and feet and conjured him to do her occasion, to which he consented; and when he had satisfied her desires, she said to him, “Give me the seal-ring on thy finger.” So he gave it to her and she laid it in a silken handkerchief she had with her, wherein were more than fourscore others. When the prince saw this, he asked her what she did with all these rings and she answered, saying, “Know that this Afrit carried me off from my father’s palace and shut me in this box, which he carries about on his head wherever he goes; and he hardly leaves me a moment, of the excess of his jealousy over me, and hinders me from what I desire. When I saw this, I swore that I would deny my favours to no one, and these rings thou seest are after the tale of the men who have had to do with me; for I took from each a ring and laid it in this handkerchief. And now go thy ways, that I may look for another than thee, for the Afrit will not awake yet awhile.”
So the prince returned to his father’s palace, hardly crediting what he had heard, and when the King heard that his son had lost his ring, he bade put him to death, knowing not how the damsel had beguiled him. (Now she feared this not, neither took any account thereof.) Then he rose and entered his palace; but his Viziers came in to him and prevailed with him to abandon his purpose. The same night, the King sent for them and thanked them for having dissuaded him from slaying his son; and the latter also thanked them, saying, “It was well done of you to counsel my father to let me live, and God willing, I will abundantly requite you.” Then he related to them how he had lost the ring, and they offered up prayers for his long life and advancement and withdrew. See then, O King,’ said the Vizier, ‘the malice of women and what they do unto men.’
The King hearkened to the Vizier’s counsel and again countermanded his order to slay his son. Next morning, it being the eighth day, as the King sat in his audience-chamber in the midst of his grandees and amirs and officers and men of learning, the prince entered, with his hand in that of his governor, Es Sindibad, and praised his father and his Viziers and grandees in the most eloquent words and thanked them; so that all who were present wondered at his eloquence and fluency and the excellence of his speech. His father rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy and calling him to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he called Es Sindibad and asked him why his son had kept silence these seven days, to which he replied, ‘O my lord, it was I who enjoined him to this, in my fear for him of death; for, when I took his nativity, I found it written in the stars that, if he should speak during this period, he would surely die; but now the danger is over, by the King’s fortune.’
At this the King rejoiced and said to his Viziers, ‘If I had killed my son would the fault have fallen on me or the damsel or Es Sindibad?’ But they refrained from answering and Es Sindibad said to the prince, ‘Answer thou, O my son.’ Quoth he, ‘I have heard tell that certain guests once alighted at a merchant’s house, and he sent his slave-girl to the market, to buy a jar of milk. So she bought it and set out on her return; but, on her way home, there passed over her a kite, holding a serpent in its claws, and a drop of the serpent’s venom fell into the jar of milk, unknown of the girl. So, when she came back, the merchant took the milk from her and drank of it, he and his guests; but hardly had it settled in their stomachs when they all died. Now tell me, O King, whose was the fault in this case?’ Some said, ‘It was the fault of the company, who drank the milk, without examining it.’ And other some, ‘That of the girl, who left the jar uncovered.’ But Es Sindibad said to the prince, ‘What sayest thou, O my son?’ ‘I say,’ answered the prince, ‘that the folk err; it was neither the fault of the damsel nor of the company, for their appointed hour was come, with the exhaustion of their divinely-decreed provision, and God had fore-ordained them to die thus.’
When the courtiers heard this, they marvelled greatly and lifted up their voices, calling down blessings on the prince and saying, ‘O our lord, thou hast made a peerless answer, and thou art the wisest man of thy time.’ ‘Indeed, I am no sage,’ answered the prince; ‘the blind sheikh and the three-year-old child and the five-year-old were wiser than I.’ ‘O youth,’ said the bystanders, ‘tell us the stories of these three who were wiser than thou.’ ‘With all my heart,’ answered he, ‘I have heard tell that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
The Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers.
There was once a rich merchant, who was a great traveller. One day, being minded to journey to a certain city, he asked those who came thence what kind of goods brought most profit there, “Sandal-wood,” answered they; “for it sells at a high price.” So he laid out all his money in sandal-wood and set out for the city in question. When he arrived there, it was the close of the day, and he met an old woman driving her sheep. Quoth she to him, “Who art thou, O man?” and he answered, saying, “I am a stranger, a merchant.” “Beware of the townsfolk,” said she, “for they are cheats and robbers, who impose on strangers that they may get the better of them and devour their substance. Indeed, I give thee good counsel.”
Then she left him and on the morrow there met him a man, who saluted him and said to him, “O my lord, whence comest thou?” “From such a place,” answered the merchant. “And what merchandise hast thou brought with thee?” asked the other. “Sandal-wood,” replied he; “for I hear it is high of price with you.” Quoth the townsman, “He erred who told thee that; for we burn nothing but sandal-wood under our cooking-pots, and its value with us is but that of firewood.” When the merchant heard this, he sighed and repented and knew not whether to believe him or not. Then he alighted at one of the khans of the city and when it was night, he saw a merchant make a fire of sandal-wood under his cooking-pot. Now this was the man who had spoken with him and this was a trick of his. When the townsman saw the merchant [looking at him,] he said to him, “Wilt thou sell me thy sandal-wood for a measure of whatever thy soul shall desire?” “I sell it to thee,” answered the merchant, purposing to take gold, and the buyer transported all the wood to his own house and stored it up there.
Next morning, the merchant, who was a blue-eyed man, went out to walk in the city; but, as he went along, one of the townsfolk, who was also blue-eyed and had but one eye, caught hold of him, saying, “Thou art he who stole my eye and I will never let thee go [till thou restore it to me].” The merchant denied this, saying, “I never stole [thine eye]: the thing is impossible.” Whereupon the folk collected round them and besought the one-eyed man to grant him till the morrow, that he might give him the price of his eye. So the merchant procured one to be surety for him, and they let him go. Now his shoe had been rent in the struggle with the one-eyed man; so he stopped at a cobbler’s stall and bade him mend it, and he should have of him what would content him. Then be went on, till he came to some people sitting playing at forfeits and sat down with them, to divert his grief and anxiety. They invited him to play with them and he did so; but they practised on him and overcoming him, offered him his choice, either to drink up the sea or disburse all be had. “Have patience with me till to-morrow,” said he, and they granted him the delay he sought; whereupon he went away, sore concerned for what had betided him and knowing not how he should do, and sat down in a place [apart], heavy at heart and full of melancholy thought.
Presently, the old woman passed by and seeing him thus, said to him, “Meseems the townsfolk have gotten the better of thee, for I see thee troubled and heavy of heart. Tell me what ails thee.” So he told her all that had passed and she said. “As for him who cheated thee in the matter of the sandal-wood, thou must know that with us it is worth ten dinars a pound. But I will give thee a counsel, whereby I trust thou shalt deliver thyself; and it is this. By such and such a gate lives a blind sheikh, a cripple, who is knowing, wise and experienced, and all resort to him and ask him what they will, and he counsels them what will be for their advantage; for he is versed in craft and magic and trickery. Now he is a sharper and the sharpers resort to him by night [and recount to him the tricks they have played during the day], and he [passes judgment upon them and] tells them which got the better and which was bettered. So go thou to his lodging and hide thyself from thine adversaries, so thou mayst hear what they say, unseen of them; and haply thou shalt learn from the sheikh some subterfuge that may avail to deliver thee from them.”
So he went to the place in question and hid himself near the blind man. Before long, up came the latter’s company who were wont to take him as their judge, and amongst them the merchant’s four adversaries. They saluted the sheikh and each other and sat down round him, whereupon he set food before them and they ate. Then each began to tell what had befallen him that day, and amongst the rest came forward he of the sandal-wood and told how he had bought of one sandal-wood, below its price, and had agreed to pay for it a measure of whatever the seller should desire. Quoth the old man, “Thine opponent hath the better of thee.” “ How can that be,” asked the other, “seeing that, if he say, ‘I will take the measure full of gold or silver,’ I will give it him and still be the gainer?” And the sheikh answered, “And if he say, ‘I will take the measure full of fleas, half male and half female,’ what wilt thou do?” So the sharper knew that he was beaten.
Then came forward the one-eyed man and said, “O Sheikh, I met a blue-eyed man to-day, a stranger to the town; so I picked a quarrel with him and caught hold of him, saying, ‘It was thou robbedst me of my eye;’ nor did I let him go, till some became surety for him that he should return to me to-morrow and satisfy me for my eye.” Quoth the sheikh, “If he will, he may have the better of thee.” “How so?” asked the sharper; and the sheikh said, “He may say to thee, ‘Pluck out thine eye, and I will pluck out one of mine; then will we weigh them both, and if thine eye be of the same weight as mine, thou speakest truth in what thou avouchest.’ So wilt thou owe him the price of his eye and be stone blind, whilst he will still see with his other eye.” So the sharper knew that the merchant might baffle him with this subterfuge.
Then came the cobbler and said, “O Sheikh, a man brought me his shoe to-day, saying, ‘Mend this shoe and thou shalt have of me what will content thee.’ Now nothing will content me but all he hath.” Quoth the sheikh, “If he will, he may take his shoe from thee and give thee nothing.” “How so?” asked the cobbler, and the sheikh, “He has but to say to thee, ‘The sultan’s enemies are put to the rout; his foes are become weak and his children and helpers are multiplied. Art thou content or no?’” “If thou say, ‘I am content,’ he will take his shoe and go away; and if thou say, ‘I am not content,’ he will take his shoe and beat thee therewith over the face and neck.” So the cobbler owned himself beaten.
Then came forward the gamester and said, “O Sheikh, I played at forfeits with a man to-day and beat him and adjudged him to drink up the sea or give up to me all his wealth.” “If he will,” replied the sheikh, “he may baffle thee.” “How so?” asked the sharper, and the sheikh, “He has but to say, ‘Take the mouth of the sea in thine hand and give it me and I will drink it.’ But thou wilt not be able to do this; so he will baffle thee with this subterfuge.” When the merchant heard this, he knew how it behoved him to deal with his adversaries. Then the sharpers went their way and the merchant returned to his lodging.
