One Thousand and One Nights

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One Thousand and One Nights Page 31

by Richard Burton


  On hearing this, the grandmother, frowning upon the eunuch, said, “How now, Shubbaunee, was the care of my grandchild committed to you, to carry him to eat at pastry-shops like a beggar?” “Madam,” replied the eunuch, “it is true, we did stop a little while and talked with the pastry-cook, but we did not eat with him.” “Pardon me,” said Agib, “we went into his shop, and there ate a cream-tart.” Upon this, the lady, more incensed against the eunuch than before, rose in a passion from the table, and running to the tent of Shumse ad Deen, informed him of the eunuch’s crime; and that in such terms, as tended more to inflame the vizier than to dispose him to excuse it.

  The vizier who was naturally passionate, did not fail on this occasion to display his anger. He went forthwith to his sister-in-law’s tent, and said to the eunuch, “Wretch, have you the impudence to abuse the trust I repose in you?” Shubbaunee, though sufficiently convicted by Agib’s testimony, denied the fact still. But the child persisting in what he had affirmed, “Grandfather,” said he, “I can assure you we not only ate, but that so very heartily, that we have no occasion for supper: besides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl of sherbet.” “Well,” cried Shumse ad Deen, “after all this, will you continue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook’s house, and ate there?” Shubbaunee had still the impudence to swear it was not true. “Then you are a liar,” said the vizier “I believe my grandchild; but after all, if you can eat up this cream-tart I shall be persuaded you have truth on your side.”

  Though Shubbaunee had crammed himself up to the throat before, he agreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart; but his stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out of his mouth. Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had over-eaten himself the day before, and had not recovered his appetite. The vizier irritated with all the eunuch’s frivolous presences, and convinced of his guilt, ordered him to be soundly bastinadoed. In undergoing this punishment, the poor wretch shrieked out aloud, and at last confessed the truth; “I own,” cried he, “that we did eat a cream-tart at the pastry cook’s, and that it was much better than that upon the table.”

  The widow of Noor ad Deen thought it was out of spite to her, and with a desire to mortify her, that Shubbaunee commended the pastry-cook’s tart; and accordingly said, “I cannot believe the cook’s tarts are better than mine; I am resolved to satisfy myself upon that head. Where does he live? Go immediately and buy me one of his tarts.” The eunuch repaired to Buddir ad Deen’s shop, and said, “Let me have one of your cream-tarts; one of our ladies wants to taste them.” Buddir ad Deen chose one of the best, and gave it to the eunuch.

  Shubbaunee returned speedily to the tents, gave the tart to Noor ad Deen’s widow, who, snatching it greedily, broke a piece off; but no sooner put it to her mouth, than she cried out and swooned away. The vizier was extremely surprised at the accident; he threw water upon her face, and was very active in recovering her. As soon as she came to herself, “My God!” cried she, “it must needs be my son, my dear Buddir ad Deen who made this tart.”

  When the vizier Shumse ad Deen heard his sister-in-law say, that the maker of the tart, brought by the eunuch, must needs be her son, he was overjoyed; but reflecting that his joy might prove groundless, and the conjecture of Noor ad Deen’s widow be false, “Madam,” said he, “do you think there may not be a pastry-cook in the world, who knows how to make cream-tarts as well as your son?” “I own,” replied she, “there may be pastry-cooks that can make as good tarts as he; but as I make them in a peculiar manner, and only my son was let into the secret, it must absolutely be he that made this. Come, my brother,” added she in a transport, “let us call up mirth and joy; we have at last found what we have been so long looking for.” “Madam,” said the vizier answer, “I entreat you to moderate your impatience, for we shall quickly know the truth. All we have to do, is to bring the pastry-cook hither; and then you and my daughter will readily distinguish whether he be your son or not. But you must both be concealed so as to have a view of Buddir ad Deen while he cannot see you; for I would not have our interview and mutual discovery happen at Damascus. My design is to delay the discovery till we return to Cairo.”

  This said, he left the ladies in their tent, and retired to his own; where he called for fifty of his men, and said to them: “Take each of you a stick in your hands, and follow Shubbaunee, who will conduct you to a pastry-cook in this city. When you arrive there, break and dash in pieces all you find in the shop: if he demand the reason of your outrage, only ask him in return if it was not he that made the cream-tart that was brought from his house. If he answer in the affirmative, seize his person, fetter him, and bring him along with you; but take care you do not beat him, nor do him the least harm. Go, and lose no time.”

  The vizier’s orders were immediately executed. The detachment, conducted by the black eunuch, went with expedition to Buddir ad Deen’s house, broke in pieces the plates, kettles, copper pans, and all the other moveables and utensils they met with, and inundated the sherbet-shop with cream and comfits. Buddir ad Deen, astonished at the sight, said with a pitiful tone, “Pray, good people, why do you serve me so? What is the matter? What have I done?” “Was it not you,” said they, “that sold this eunuch the cream-tart?” “Yes,” replied he, “I am the man; and who says any thing against it? I defy any one to make a better.” Instead of giving him an answer, they continued to break all round them, and the oven itself was not spared.

  In the mean time the neighbours took the alarm, and surprised to see fifty armed men committing such a disorder, asked the reason of such violence; and Buddir ad Deen said once more to the rioters, “Pray tell me what crime I have committed to deserve this usage?” “Was it not you,” replied they, “that made the cream-tart you sold to the eunuch?” “Yes, yes, it was I,” replied he; “I maintain it is a good one. I do not deserve this treatment.” However, without listening to him, they seized his person, and, snatching the cloth off his turban, tied his hands with it behind his back, and, after dragging him by force out of his shop, marched off.

  The mob gathering, from compassion to Buddir ad Deen, took his part; but officers from the governor of the city dispersed the people, and favoured the carrying off of Buddir ad Deen, for Shumse ad Deen Mahummud had in the mean time gone to the governor’s house to acquaint him with the order he had given, and to demand the interposition of force to favour the execution; and the governor, who commanded all Syria in the name of the sultan of Egypt, was unwilling to refuse any thing to his master’s vizier.

  It was in vain for Buddir ad Deen to ask those who carried him off, what fault had been found with his cream-tart: they gave him no answer. In short, they conducted him to the tents, and made him wait there till Shumse ad Deen returned from the governor of Damascus.

  Upon the vizier’s return, the pretended culprit was brought before him. “My lord,” said Buddir ad Deen, with tears in his eyes, “pray do me the favour to let me know wherein I have displeased you.” “Why, you wretch,” exclaimed the vizier “was it not you that made the cream-tart you sent me?” “I own I am the man,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “but pray what crime is that?” “I will punish you according to your deserts,” said Shumse ad Deen, “it shall cost you your life, for sending me such a sorry tart.” “Ah!” exclaimed Buddir ad Deen, “is it a capital crime to make a bad cream-tart?” “Yes,” said the vizier “and you are to expect no other usage from me.”

  While this interview lasted, the ladies, who were concealed behind curtains, saw Buddir ad Deen, and recognized him, notwithstanding he had been so long absent. They were so transported with joy, that they swooned away; and when they recovered, would fain have run up and fallen upon his neck, but the promise they had made to the vizier of not discovering themselves, restrained the tender emotions of love and of nature.

  Shumse ad Deen having resolved to set out that night, ordered the tents to be struck, and the necessary preparations to be made for his journey. He ordered
Buddir ad Deen to be secured in a sort of cage, and laid on a camel. The vizier and his retinue began their march, and travelled the rest of that night, and all the next day, without stopping In the evening they halted, and Buddir ad Deen was taken out of his cage, in order to be served with the necessary refreshments, but still carefully kept at a distance from his mother and his wife; and during the whole expedition, which lasted twenty days, was served in the same manner.

  When they arrived at Cairo, they encamped in the neighbourhood of the city; Shumse ad Deen called for Buddir ad Deen, and gave orders, in his presence, to prepare a stake. “Alas!” said Buddir ad Deen, “what do you mean to do with a stake?” “Why, to impale you,” replied Shumse ad Deen, “and then to have you carried through all the quarters of the town, that the people may have the spectacle of a worthless pastry-cook, who makes cream-tarts without pepper.” This said, Buddir ad Deen cried out so ludicrously, that Shumse ad Deen could hardly keep his countenance: “Alas!” said he, “must I suffer a death as cruel as it is ignominious, for not putting pepper in a cream-tart?”

  “How,” said Buddir ad Deen, “must I be rifled; must I be imprisoned in a chest, and at last impaled, and all for not putting pepper in a cream-tart? Are these the actions of Moosulmauns, of persons who make a profession of probity, justice, and good works?” With these words he shed tears, and then renewing his complaint; “No,” continued he, “never was a man used so unjustly, nor so severely. Is it possible they should be capable of taking a man’s life for not putting pepper in a cream-tart? Cursed be all cream-tarts, as well as the hour in which I was born! Would to God I had died that minute!”

  The disconsolate Buddir ad Deen did not cease his lamentations; and when the stake was brought, cried out bitterly at the horrid sight. “Heaven!” said he, “can you suffer me to die an ignominious and painful death? And all this, for what crime? not for robbery or murder, or renouncing my religion, but for not putting pepper in a cream tart.”

  Night being then pretty far advanced, the vizier ordered Buddir ad Deen to be conveyed again to his cage, saying to him, “Stay there till to-morrow; the day shall not elapse before I give orders for your death.” The chest or cage then was carried away and laid upon the camel that had brought it from Damascus: at the same time all the other camels were loaded again; and the vizier mounting his horse, ordered the camel that carried his nephew to march before him, and entered the city with all his suit. After passing through several streets, where no one appeared, he arrived at his palace, where he ordered the chest to be taken down, but not opened till farther orders.

  While his retinue were unlading the other camels, he took Buddir ad Deen’s mother and his daughter aside; and addressed himself to the latter: “God be praised,” said he, “my child, for this happy occasion of meeting your cousin and your husband! You remember, of course, what order your chamber was in on your wedding night: go and put all things as they were then placed; and if your memory do not serve you, I can aid it by a written account, which I caused to be taken upon that occasion.”

  The beautiful lady went joyfully to execute her father’s orders; and he at the same time commanded the hall to be adorned as when Buddir ad Deen Houssun was there with the sultan of Egypt’s hunch-backed groom. As he went over his manuscript, his domestics placed every moveable in the described order. The throne was not forgotten, nor the lighted wax candles. When every thing was arranged in the hall, the vizier went into his daughter’s chamber and put in their due place Buddir ad Deen’s apparel, with the purse of sequins. This done, he said to the beautiful lady, “Undress yourself, my child, and go to bed. As soon as Buddir ad Deen enters your room, complain of his being from you so long, and tell him, that when you awoke, you were astonished you did not find him by you. Press him to come to bed again; and to-morrow morning you will divert your mother-in-law and me, by giving us an account of your interview.” This said, he went from his daughter’s apartment, and left her to undress herself and go to bed.

  Shumse ad Deen Mahummud ordered all his domestics to depart the hall, excepting two or three, whom he desired to remain. These he commanded to go and take Buddir ad Deen out of the cage, to strip him to his under vest and drawers, to conduct him in that condition to the hall, to leave him there alone, and shut the door upon him.

  Buddir ad Deen, though overwhelmed with grief, was asleep so soundly, that the vizier’s domestics had taken him out of the chest and stripped him before he awoke; and they carried him so suddenly into the hall, that they did not give him time to see where he was. When he found himself alone in the hall, he looked round him, and the objects he beheld recalling to his memory the circumstances of his marriage, he perceived, with astonishment, that it was the place where he had seen the sultan’s groom of the stables. His surprise was still the greater, when approaching softly the door of a chamber which he found open, he spied his own raiments where he remembered to have left them on his wedding night. “My God!” said he, rubbing his eyes, “am I asleep or awake?”

  The beautiful lady, who in the mean time was diverting herself with his astonishment, opened the curtains of her bed suddenly, and bending her head forward, “My dear lord,” said she, with a soft, tender air, “what do you do at the door? You have been out of bed a long time. I was strangely surprised when I awoke in not finding you by me.” Buddir ad Deen was enraptured; he entered the room, but reverting to all that had passed during a ten years’ interval, and not being able to persuade himself that it could all have happened in the compass of one night, he went to the place where his vestments lay with the purse of sequins; and after examining them very carefully, exclaimed, “By Allah these are mysteries which I can by no means comprehend!” The lady, who was pleased to see his confusion, said, once more, “My lord, what do you wait for?” He stepped towards the bed, and said to her, “Is it long since I left you?” “The question,” answered she, “surprises me. Did not you rise from me but now? Surely your mind is deranged.” “Madam,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “I do assure you my thoughts are not very composed. I remember indeed to have been with you, but I remember at the same time, that I have since lived ten years at Damascus. Now, if I was actually in bed with you this night, I cannot have been from you so long. These two points are inconsistent. Pray tell me what I am to think; whether my marriage with you is an illusion, or whether my absence from you is only a dream?” “Yes, my lord,” cried she, “doubtless you were light-headed when you thought you were at Damascus.” Upon this Buddir ad Deen laughed heartily, and said, “What a comical fancy is this! I assure you, madam, this dream of mine will be very pleasant to you. Do but imagine, if you please, that I was at the gate of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, as I am here now; that I entered the town with the halloo of a mob who followed and insulted me; that I fled to a pastry cook who adopted me, taught me his trade, and left me all he had when he died; that after his death I kept a shop. In fine, I had an infinity of other adventures, too tedious to recount: and all I can say is, that it was well that I awoke, for they were going to impale me!” “And for what,” cried the lady, feigning astonishment, “would they have used you so cruelly? Surely you must have committed some enormous crime.” “Not the least,” replied Buddir ad Deen; “it was for nothing but a mere trifle, the most ridiculous thing you can imagine. All the crime I was charged with, was selling a cream-tart that had no pepper in it.” “As for that matter,” said the beautiful lady laughing heartily, “I must say they did you great injustice.” “Ah!” replied he, “that was not all. For this cursed cream-tart was every thing in my shop broken to pieces, myself bound and fettered, and flung into a chest, where I lay so close, that methinks I am there still, but thanks be to God all was a dream.”

  Buddir ad Deen was not easy all night. He awoke from time to time, and put the question to himself, whether he dreamed or was awake. He distrusted his felicity; and, to be sure whether it was true or not, looked round the room. “I am not mistaken,” said he; “this is the same chamber where
I entered instead of the hunch-backed groom of the stables; and I am now in bed with the fair lady designed for him.” Day-light, which then appeared, had not yet dispelled his uneasiness, when the vizier Shumse ad Deen, his uncle, knocked at the door, and at the same time went in to bid him good morrow.

  Buddir ad Deen was extremely surprised to see a man he knew so well, and who now appeared with a different air from that with which he pronounced the terrible sentence of death against him. “Ah!” cried Buddir ad Deen, “it was you who condemned me so unjustly to a kind of death, the thoughts of which make me shudder, and all for a cream-tart without pepper.” The vizier fell a laughing, and to put him out of suspense, told him how, by the ministry of a genie (for hunch-back’s relation made him suspect the adventure), he had been at his palace, and had married his daughter instead of the sultan’s groom of the stables; then he acquainted him that he had discovered him to be his nephew by the memorandum of his father, and pursuant to that discovery had gone from Cairo to Bussorah in quest of him. “My dear nephew,” added he, embracing him with every expression of tenderness, “I ask your pardon for all I have made you undergo since I discovered you. I resolved to bring you to my palace before I told you your happiness; which ought now to be so much the dearer to you, as it has cost you so much perplexity and distress. To atone for all your afflictions, comfort yourself with the joy of being in the company of those who ought to be dearest to you. While you are dressing yourself I will go and acquaint your mother, who is beyond measure impatient to see you; and will likewise bring to you your son, whom you saw at Damascus, and for whom, without knowing him, you shewed so much affection.”

 

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