Whilst Jaaffier was speaking, Safie had time to observe the vizier, and his two companions, who were said to be merchants like himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the house; but if they would have a minute’s patience, she would return with an answer.
Safie made the business known to her sisters, who considered for some time what to do: but being naturally of a good disposition, and having granted the same favour to the three calenders, they at last consented to let them in.
The caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being introduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies and the calenders. The ladies returned their salutations, supposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, addressed them with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to her, and said, “You are welcome. But before I proceed farther, I hope you will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you.” “Alas!” said the vizier, “what favour? We can refuse nothing to such fair ladies.” Zobeide continued, “It is that, while here, you would have eyes, but no tongues; that you question us not for the reason of any thing you may see, and speak not of any thing that does not concern you, lest you hear what will by no means please you.”
“Madam,” replied the vizier, “you shall be obeyed. We are not censorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to notice affairs that concern us, without meddling with what does not belong to us.” Upon this they all sat down, and the company being united, they drank to the health of the new-comers.
While the vizier, entertained the ladies in conversation, the caliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty, graceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other hand, nothing struck him with more surprise than the calenders being all three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have learnt the cause of this singularity; but the conditions so lately imposed upon himself and his companions would not allow him to speak. These circumstances, with the richness of the furniture, the exact order of every thing, and the neatness of the house, made him think they were in some enchanted place.
Their conversation happening to turn upon diversions, and the different ways of making merry; the calenders arose, and danced after their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies had conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph and his companions.
When the three calenders had finished their dance, Zobeide arose, and taking Amene by the hand, said, “Pray, sister, arise, for the company will not be offended if we use our freedom, and their presence need not hinder the performance of our customary exercise.” Amene understanding her sister’s meaning, rose from her seat, carried away the dishes, the flasks and cups, together with the instruments which the calenders had played upon.
Safie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in its place, trimmed the lamps, and put fresh aloes and ambergris to them; this being done, she requested the three calenders to sit down upon the sofa at one side, and the caliph with his companions on the other: then addressing herself to the porter, she said, “Get up, and prepare yourself to assist us in what we are going to do; a man like you, who is one of the family, ought not to be idle.” The porter, being somewhat recovered from his wine, arose immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown to his belt, answered, “Here am I, ready to obey your commands.” “Very well,” replied Safie, “stay till you are spoken to; and you shall not be idle long.” A little time after, Amene came in with a chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then went towards a closet. Having opened the door, she beckoned to the porter, and said, “Come hither and assist me.” He obeyed, and entered the closet, and returned immediately, leading two black bitches, each of them secured by a collar and chain; they appeared as if they had been severely whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of the apartment.
Zobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the caliph, moved very gravely towards the porter; “Come,” said she, heaving a deep sigh, “let us perform our duty:” she then tucked up her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie, “Porter,” said she, “deliver one of the bitches to my sister Amene, and bring the other to me.”
The porter did as he was commanded. Upon this the bitch that he held in his hand began to howl, and turning towards Zobeide, held her head up in a supplicating posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad countenance of the animal, which would have moved pity, nor to her cries that resounded through the house, whipped her with the rod till she was out of breath; and having spent her strength, threw down the rod, and taking the chain from the porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon her with a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept: after which, Zobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch’s eye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, desired him to carry her to the place whence he took her, and bring her the other. The porter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and receiving the other from Amene, presented her to Zobeide, who requested him to hold her as he had done the first, took up the rod, and treated her after the same manner; and when she had wept over her, she dried her eyes, kissed her, and returned her to the porter: but Amene spared him the trouble of leading her back into the closet, and did it herself. The three calenders, with the caliph and his companions, were extremely surprised at this exhibition, and could not comprehend why Zobeide, after having so furiously beaten those two bitches, that by the moosulman religion are reckoned unclean animals, should weep with them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them. They muttered among themselves, and the caliph, who, being more impatient than the rest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so strange a proceeding, could not forbear making signs to the vizier to ask the question: the vizier turned his head another way; but being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others, that it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.
Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she had whipped the two bitches, to recover herself of her fatigue; and Safie called to her, “Dear sister, will you not be pleased to return to your place, that I may also aft my part?” “Yes, sister,” replied Zobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the sofa, having the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour, on her right hand, and the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.
After Zobeide had taken her seat, the whole company remained silent for some time; at last, Safie, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, spoke to her sister Amene, “Dear sister, I conjure you to rise; you know what I would say.” Amene rose, and went into another closet, near to that where the bitches were, and brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly embroidered with gold and green silk. She went towards Safie and opened the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to her: and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play, and accompanying the instrument with her voice, sung a song about the torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much sweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company. Having sung with much passion and action, she said to Amene, “Pray take it, sister, for my voice fails me; oblige the company with a tune, and a song in my stead.” “Very willingly,” replied Amene, who, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat down in her place.
Amene played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but with so much vehemence, and was so much affected, or rather transported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed her as she finished.
Zobeide, desirous of testifying her satisfaction, said, “Sister, you have done wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the grief you have expressed in so lively a manner.” Amene was prevented from answering this civility, her heart being so sensibly touched at the moment, that she was obliged, for air, to uncover her neck and bosom, which did not appear so fair as might have been expected; but, on the contrary, were black and full of scars, which surprised and affected all the spectators. However, this gave her no ease, for she fell into a fit.
When Zobeide and Safie had run to help
their sister, one of the calenders could not forbear saying, “We had better have slept in the streets than have come hither to behold such spectacles.” The caliph, who heard this, came to him and the other calenders, and asked them what might be the meaning of all this? They answered, “We know no more than you do.” “What,” said the caliph, “are you not of the family? Can you not resolve us concerning the two black bitches and the lady that fainted away, who appears to have been so basely abused?” “Sir,” said the calenders, “this is the first time of our being in the house; we came in but a few minutes before you.”
This increased the caliph’s astonishment: “Probably,” said he, “this man who is with you may know something of the matter.” One of the calenders beckoned the porter to come near; and asked him, whether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and why Amene’s bosom was so scarred. “Sir,” said the porter, “I can swear by heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as little as you do. It is true, I live in this city, but I never was in the house until now, and if you are surprised to see me I am as much so to find myself in your company; and that which increases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these ladies.”
The caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, had supposed the porter to be one of the family, and hoped he would have been able to give them the information they sought; but finding he could not, and resolving to satisfy his curiosity, the caliph said to the rest, “We are seven men, and have but three women to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to explain what we have seen, and if they refuse by fair means, we are in a condition to compel them by force.”
The grand vizier Jaaffier objected to this, and shewed the caliph what might be the consequence. Without discovering the prince to the calenders, he addressed him as if he had been a merchant, and said, “Consider, I pray you, that our reputation is at stake. You know the conditions on which these ladies consented to receive us, and which we agreed to observe; what will they say of us if we break them? We shall be still more to blame, if any mischief befall us; for it is not likely that they would have extorted such a promise from us, without knowing themselves to be in a condition to punish us for its violation.”
Here the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him, “The night will soon be at an end, and if your majesty will only be pleased to have so much patience, I will to-morrow morning bring these ladies before your throne, where you may be informed of all that you desire to know.” Though this advice was very judicious, the caliph rejected it, desired the vizier to hold his tongue, and said, he would not wait so long, but would immediately have his curiosity satisfied.
The next business was to settle who should carry the message. The caliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first; but they excused themselves, and at last they agreed that the porter should be the man: as they were consulting how to word this fatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amene, who was recovered of her fit. She drew near them, and having overheard them speaking pretty loud, said, “Gentlemen, what is the subject of your conversation? What are you disputing about?”
The porter answered immediately, “Madam, these gentlemen beseech you to inform them why you wept over your two bitches after you had whipped them so severely, and how the bosom of that lady who lately fainted away came to be so full of scars? These are the questions I am ordered to ask in their name.”
At these words, Zobeide put on a stern countenance, and turning towards the caliph and the rest of the company, “Is it true, gentlemen,” said she, “that you desired him to ask me these questions?” All of them, except the vizier Jaaffier, who spoke not a word, answered, “Yes.” On which she exclaimed, in a tone that sufficiently expressed her resentment, “Before we granted you the favour of receiving you into our house, and to prevent all occasion of trouble from you, because we are alone, we imposed the condition that you should not speak of any thing that did not concern you, lest you might hear that which would not please you; and yet after having received and entertained you, you make no scruple to break your promise. It is true that our easy temper has occasioned this, but that shall not excuse your rudeness.” As she spoke these words, she gave three stamps with her foot, and clapping her hands as often together, cried, “Come quickly:” upon this, a door flew open, and seven black slaves rushed in; every one seized a man, threw him on the ground, and dragged him into the middle of the room, brandishing a cimeter over his head.
We may easily conceive the caliph then repented, but too late, that he had not taken the advice of his vizier, who, with Mesrour, the calenders and porter, was from his ill-timed curiosity on the point of forfeiting his life. Before they would strike the fatal blow, one of the slaves said to Zobeide, and her sisters: “High, mighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command us to strike off their heads?” “Stay,” said Zobeide, “I must examine them first.” The frightened porter interrupted her thus: “In the name of heaven, do not put me to death for another man’s crime. I am innocent; they are to blame.” “Alas!” said he, weeping, “how pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind calenders are the cause of this misfortune; there is no town in the world but suffers wherever these inauspicious fellows come. Madam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and consider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I am, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your resentment.”
Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within herself at the porter’s lamentation: but without replying to him, she spoke a second time to the rest; “Answer me, and say who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer: I cannot believe you to be honest men, or persons of authority or distinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would have been more modest and more respectful to us.”
The caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than the rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman: but he began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to know who they all were; for he imagined she would not put him to death, when informed of his quality; therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near him, to declare it speedily: but the vizier, more prudent, resolved to save his master’s honour, and not let the world know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own imprudence; and therefore answered, “We have what we deserve.” But if he had intended to speak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide would not have allowed him time: for having turned to the calenders, and seeing them all blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers. One of them answered, “No, madam, no otherwise than as we are calenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules.” “Were you born blind of the right eye,” continued she? “No, madam,” answered he; “I lost my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be instructive to every body were it in writing: after that misfortune I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit of a calender which I now wear.”
Zobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had the same answers; but the last who spoke added, “Madam, to shew you that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some consideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three sons of sultans; and though we never met together till this evening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one another; and I assure you that the sultans from whom we derive our being were famous in the world.”
At this discourse Zobeide suppressed her anger, and said to the slaves, “Give them their liberty a while, but remain where you are. Those who tell us their history, and the occasion of their coming, do them no hurt, let them go where they please; but do not spare those who refuse to give us that satisfaction.”
The three calendars, the caliph, the grand vizier, Jaaffier, the eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in the middle of the hall, seated upon a carpet in the presence of the three ladies, who reclined upon a sofa, and the slaves stood ready to do whatever their mistresses should command.
The porter, understanding that h
e might extricate himself from danger by telling his history, spoke first, and said, “Madam, you know my history already, and the occasion of my coming hither; so that what I have to say will be very short. My lady, your sister, called me this morning at the place where I plyed as porter to see if any body would employ me, that I might get my bread; I followed her to a vintner’s, then to a herb-shop, then to one where oranges, lemons, and citrons were sold, then to a grocer’s, next to a confectioner’s, and a druggist’s, with my basket upon my head as full as I was able to carry it; then I came hither, where you had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now, a favour that I shall never forget. This, madam, is my history.”
When the porter had done, Zobeide said to him, “Depart, let us see you here no more.” “Madam,” replied the porter, “I beg you to let me stay; it would not be just, after the rest have had the pleasure to hear my history, that I should not also have the satisfaction of hearing theirs.” And having spoken thus, he sat down at the end of the sofa, glad at heart to have escaped the danger that had frightened him so much. After him, one of the three calenders directing his speech to Zobeide, as the principal of the three ladies, began thus:
One Thousand and One Nights Page 11