One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  On his return, he questioned the parrot concerning what had passed while he was from home, and the bird told him such things as gave him occasion to upbraid his wife. She concluded some of her slaves had betrayed her, but all of them swore they had been faithful, and agreed that the parrot must have been the tell-tale.

  Upon this, the wife began to devise how she might remove her husband’s jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on the parrot. Her husband being gone another journey, she commanded a slave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill under the parrot’s cage; she ordered another to sprinkle water, in resemblance of rain, over the cage; and a third to move a looking-glass, backward and forward against a candle, before the parrot. The slaves spent a great part of the night in doing what their mistress desired them, and acquitted themselves with much skill.

  Next night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again about what had passed during his absence. The bird answered, “Good master, the lightning, thunder, and rain so much disturbed me all night, that I cannot tell how much I suffered.” The husband, who knew that there had been neither thunder, lightning, nor rain in the night, fancied that the parrot, not having spoken truth in this, might also have lied in the other relation; upon which he took it out of the cage, and threw it with so much force to the ground that he killed it. Yet afterwards he understood from his neigbours, that the poor parrot had not deceived him in what it had stated of his wife’s base conduct, made him repent that he had killed it.

  When the Grecian king had finished the story of the parrot, he added, “And you, vizier, because of the hatred you bear to the physician Douban, who never did you any injury, you would have me cut him off; but I will beware lest I should repent as the husband did after killing his parrot.”

  The mischievous vizier was too desirous of effecting the ruin of the physician Douban to stop here. “Sir,” said he, “the death of the parrot was but a trifle, and I believe his master did not mourn for him long: but why should your fear of wronging an innocent man, hinder your putting this physician to death? Is it not sufficient justification that he is accused of a design against your life? When the business in question is to secure the life of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and it is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty. But, Sir, this is not a doubtful case; the physician Douban has certainly a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes me his enemy; it is only my zeal, with the concern I have for preserving your majesty’s life, that makes me give you my advice in a matter of this importance. If the accusation be false, I deserve to be punished in the same manner as a vizier formerly was.” “What had the vizier done,” demands the Grecian king, “to deserve punishment?” “I will inform your majesty,” said the vizier, “if you will be pleased to hear me.”

  The Story of the Vizier that was Punished.

  There was a king who had a son that loved hunting. He allowed him to pursue that diversion often; but gave orders to his grand vizier always to attend him.

  One hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince, who thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and with so much earnestness, that he separated himself from the company. Perceiving he had lost his way he stopped, and endeavoured to return to the vizier; but not knowing the country he wandered farther.

  Whilst he was thus riding about, he met on his way a handsome lady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his horse, and enquired who she was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what she wanted. “I am,” replied she, “the daughter of an Indian king. As I was taking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy, and fell from my horse, who is run away, and I know not what is become of him.” The young prince taking compassion on her, requested her to get up behind him, which she willingly did.

  As they were passing by the ruins of a house, the lady expressed a desire to alight. The prince stopped, and having put her down, dismounted himself, and went near the building, leading his horse after him. But you may judge how much he was surprised, when he heard the pretended lady utter these words: “Be glad, my children, I bring you a young man for your repast;” and other voices, which answered immediately, “Where is he, for we are very hungry?”

  The prince heard enough to convince him of his danger. He perceived that the lady, who called herself the daughter of an Indian king, was one of those savage demons, called Gholes, who live in desolated places, and employ a thousand wiles to surprise passengers, whom they afterwards devour. The prince instantly remounted his horse, and luckily escaped.

  The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving she had missed her prey, exclaimed, “Fear nothing, prince: Who are you? Whom do you seek?” “I have lost my way,” replied he, “and am endeavouring to find it.” “If you have lost your way,” said she, “recommend yourself to God, he will deliver you out of your perplexity.”

  After the counterfeit Indian princess had bidden the young prince recommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke sincerely, but thought herself sure of him; and therefore lifting up his hands to heaven, said, “Almighty Lord, cast shine eyes upon me, and deliver me from this enemy.” After this prayer, the ghole entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all possible haste. He happily found his way, and arrived safe at the court of his father, to whom he gave a particular account of the danger he had been in through the vizier’s neglect: upon which the king, being incensed against that minister, ordered him to be immediately strangled.

  “Sir,” continued the Grecian king’s vizier, “to return to the physician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put in him will be fatal to you; I am very well assured that he is a spy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty’s life. He has cured you, you will say: but alas! who can assure you of that? He has perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who knows but the medicine he has given you, may in time have pernicious effects?”

  The Grecian king was not able to discover the wicked design of his vizier, nor had he firmness enough to persist in his first opinion. This discourse staggered him: “Vizier,” said he, “thou art in the right; he may be come on purpose to take away my life, which he may easily do by the smell of his drugs.”

  When the vizier found the king in such a temper as he wished, “Sir,” said he, “the surest and speediest method you can take to secure your life, is to send immediately for the physician Douban, and order his head to be struck off.” “In truth,” said the king, “I believe that is the way we must take to frustrate his design.” When he had spoken thus, he called for one of his officers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who, knowing nothing of the king’s purpose, came to the palace in haste.

  “Knowest thou,” said the king, when he saw him, “why I sent for thee?” “No, Sir,” answered he; “I wait till your majesty be pleased to inform me.” “I sent for thee,” replied the king, “to rid myself of thee, by taking away thy life.”

  No man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard the sentence of death pronounced against him. “Sir,” said he, “why would your majesty take my life? What crime have I committed?” “I am informed,” replied the king, “that you came to my court only to attempt my life; but to prevent you, I will be sure of yours. Give the blow,” said he to the executioner, who was present, “and deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came hither on purpose to assassinate me.”

  When the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that the honours and presents he had received from the king had procured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed on. He repented that he had cured him of his leprosy; but it was now too late. “Is it thus,” asked the physician, “that you reward me for curing you?” The king would not hearken to him, but a second time ordered the executioner to strike the fatal blow. The physician then had recourse to his prayers; “Alas, Sir,” cried he, “prolong my days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to death, lest God treat you in the same manner.”


  The fisherman broke off his discourse here, to apply it to the genie. “Well, genie,” said he, “you see that what passed betwixt the Grecian king and his physician Douban is acted just now by us.”

  The Grecian king, continued he, instead of having regard to the prayers of the physician, who begged him to spare his life, cruelly replied, “No, no; I must of necessity cut you off, otherwise you may assassinate with as much art as you cured me.” The physician, without bewailing himself for being so ill rewarded by the king, prepared for death. The executioner tied his hands, and was going to draw his cimeter.

  The courtiers who were present, being moved with compassion, begged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was not guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would answer for his innocence: but the king was inflexible.

  The physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to receive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king: “Sir,” said he, “since your majesty will not revoke the sentence of death, I beg, at least, that you would give me leave to return to my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to my family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who are capable of making good use of them. I have one particularly I would present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and worthy of being laid up carefully in your treasury.” “What is it,” demanded the king, “that makes it so valuable?” “Sir,” replied the physician, “it possesses many singular and curious properties; of which the chief is, that if your majesty will give yourself the trouble to open it at the sixth leaf, and read the third line of the left page, my head, after being cut off, will answer all the questions you ask it.” The king being curious, deferred his death till next day, and sent him home under a strong guard.

  The physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and the report being spread, that an unheard of prodigy was to happen after his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and, in a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of audience, that they might be witnesses of it.

  The physician Douban was brought in, and advancing to the foot of the throne, with a book in his hand, he called for a basin, and laid upon it the cover in which the book was wrapped; then presenting the book to the king, “Take this,” said he, “and after my head is cut off, order that it be put into the basin upon that cover; as soon as it is placed there, the blood will stop; then open the book, and my head will answer your questions. But permit me once more to implore your majesty’s clemency; for God’s sake grant my request, I protest to you that I am innocent.” “Your prayers,” answered the king, “are in vain; and were it for nothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it is my will you should die.” As he said this, he took the book out of the physician’s hand, and ordered the executioner to do his duty.

  The head was so dexterously cut off that it fell into the basin, and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood stopped; then to the great surprise of the king, and all the spectators, its eyes, and said, “Sir, will your majesty be pleased to open the book?” The king proceeded to do so; but finding that the leaves adhered to each other, that he might turn them with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wetted it with spittle. He did thus till he came to the sixth leaf, and finding no writing on the place where he was desired to look for it, “Physician,” said he, “there is nothing written.” “Turn over some more leaves,” replied the head. The king went on, putting always his finger to his mouth, until the poison with which each leaf was imbued, coming to have its effect, the prince found himself suddenly taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight failed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne in violent convulsions.

  When the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments to live; “Tyrant,” it cried, “now you see how princes are treated, who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent men: God punishes soon or late their injustice and cruelty.” Scarcely had the head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and the head itself lost what life it had.

  As soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek king and his physician Douban, he made the application to the genie, whom he still kept shut up in the vessel. “If the Grecian king,” said he, “had suffered the physician to live, God would have continued his life also; but he rejected his most humble prayers, and the case is the same with thee, O genie! Could I have prevailed with thee to grant me the favour I supplicated, I should now take pity on thee; but since, notwithstanding the extreme obligation thou west under to me, for having set thee at liberty, thou didst persist in thy design to kill me, I am obliged, in my turn, to be equally hard-hearted to thee.”

  “My good friend fisherman,” replied the genie, “I conjure thee once more, not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider, that it is not good to avenge one’s self, and that on the other hand, it is commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama formerly treated Ateca.” “And what did Imama to Ateca?” enquired the fisherman. “Ho!” says the genie, “if you have a mind to be informed, open the vessel: do you think that I can be in an humour to relate stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you as many as you please, when you have let me out.” “No,” said the fisherman, “I will not let thee out; it is in vain to talk of it; I am just going to throw thee into the bottom of the sea.” “Hear me one word more,” cried the genie; “I promise to do thee no hurt; nay, far from that, I will shew thee a way to become exceedingly rich.”

  The hope of delivering himself from poverty, prevailed with the fisherman. “I could listen to thee,” said he, “were there any credit to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of God, that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I will open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break such an oath.”

  The genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took off the covering of the vessel. At that instant the smoke ascended, and the genie having resumed his form, the first thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed the fisherman. “Genie,” said he, “will not you keep the oath you just now made? And must I say to you, as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king, suffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.”

  The genie laughed at the fisherman’s fear, and answered, “No, fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to see if thou wouldst be alarmed at it: but to convince thee that I am in earnest, take thy nets and follow me.” As he spoke these words, he walked before the fisherman, who having taken up his nets, followed him, but with some distrust. They passed by the town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a lake, that lay betwixt four hills.

  When they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the fisherman, “Cast in thy nets, and catch fish;” the fisherman did not doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the water; but he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of four colours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw in his nets, and brought out one of each colour. Having never seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. “Carry those fish,” said the genie to him, “and present them to thy sultan; he will give thee more money for them. Thou mayest come every day to fish in this lake; but I give thee warning not to throw in thy nets above once a day, otherwise thou wilt repent.” Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up closed again.

  The fisherman being resolved to follow the genie’s advice, forbore casting in his nets a second time; and returned to the town very well satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon his adventure. He went immediately to the sultan’s palace, to offer his fish.

  The sultan was much surprised, when he saw the four fish which the fisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and viewed
them with attention; and after having admired them a long time, “Take those fish,” said he to his vizier, “and carry them to the cook, whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot imagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful.”

  The vizier, carried them as he was directed, and delivering them to the cook, said, “Here are four fish just brought to the sultan; he orders you to dress them:” he then returned to the sultan his master, who ordered him to give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold of the coin of that country, which he did accordingly.

  The fisherman, who had never seen so much money, could scarcely believe his good fortune, but thought the whole must be a dream, until he found it otherwise, by being able to provide necessaries for his family with the produce of his fish.

  As soon as the sultan’s cook had gutted the fish, she put them upon the fire in a frying-pan, with oil, and when she thought them fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other; but, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of wonderful beauty entered from the opening. She was clad in flowered satin, after the Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, a necklace of large pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies, with a rod in her hand. She moved towards the frying-pan, to the great amazement of the cook, who continued fixed by the sight, and striking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said, “Fish, fish, are you in duty?” The fish having answered nothing, she repeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their heads, and replied, “Yes, yes: if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content.” As soon as they had finished these words, the lady overturned the frying-pan, and returned into the open part of the wall, which closed immediately, and became as it was before.