My patience fails me for desire: if thou forgettest me, My heart
and all my soul can love none other after thee.
Carry me with thee, body and soul, wherever thou dost fare, And
where thou lightest down to rest, there let me buried be.
Speak but my name above my tomb; the groaning of my bones,
Turning towards thy voice’s sound, shall answer drearily.
And she wept and recited the following:
My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me; And that
whereon thou turn’st away, my day of death and fear.
What though I tremble all the night and be in dread of death, Yet
thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.
And again the following:
Though unto me were given all that can make life sweet, Though
the Chosroes empire, yea, and the world were mine,
All were to me in value less than a midge’s wing, If that mine
eyes must never look on that face of thine!
When she had finished, I said to her, “O my cousin, let thy mourning suffice thee: for weeping profiteth nothing.” She replied, “Thwart me not, or I will kill myself.” So I held my peace and let her go her way: and she ceased not to mourn and weep for the space of another year. At the end of the third year, I came into the mausoleum one day, vexed at something that had crossed me and weary of this excessive affliction, and found her by the tomb under the dome, saying, “O my lord, I never hear thee speak to me, no, not one word. Why dost thou not answer me, O my lord?” And she recited the following verses:
O tomb, O tomb, have his beauties ceased, or does thy light
indeed, The sheen of the radiant countenance, no more in
thee abound?
O tomb, O tomb, thou art neither earth nor heaven unto me: How
comes it then that sun and moon at once in thee are found?
When I heard this, it added wrath to my wrath, and I said, “Alas! how much more of this mourning?” and I repeated the following [parody of her] verses:
O tomb, O tomb, has his blackness ceased, or does thy light
indeed, The sheen of the filthy countenance, no more in thee
abound?
O tomb, thou art neither kitchen-stove nor sewer-pool for me! How
comes it then that mire and coal at once in thee are found?
When she heard this, she sprang to her feet and said, “Out on thee, thou dog! it was thou that didst thus with me and woundedst the beloved of my heart and hast afflicted me and wasted his youth, so that these three years he hath lain, neither dead nor alive!” “O foulest of harlots and filthiest of whorish doxies of hired slaves,” answered I, “it was indeed I who did this!” And I drew my sword and made at her to kill her; but she laughed and said, “Avaunt, thou dog! Thinkst thou that what is past can recur or the dead come back to life? Verily, God has given into my hand him who did this to me and against whom there was in my heart fire that might not be quenched and insatiable rage.” Then she stood up and pronouncing some words I did not understand, said to me, “Let one half of thee by my enchantments become stone and the other half remain man.” And immediately I became as thou seest me and have remained ever since neither sitting nor standing and neither dead nor alive. Then she enchanted the city with all its streets and gardens and turned it into the lake thou wottest of, and the inhabitants, who were of four religions, Muslims, Christians, Magians and Jews, she changed to fish of various colours, the Muslims white, the Christians blue, the Magians red and the Jews yellow; and the four islands she turned into four mountains encompassing the lake. Moreover, the condition to which she has reduced me does not suffice her: but every day she strips me and gives me a hundred lashes with a whip, so that the blood runs down me and my shoulders are torn. Then she clothes my upper half in a shirt of hair-cloth and over that she throws these rich robes.’ And he wept and repeated the following verses:
Lord, I submit myself to Thee and eke to Fate, Content, if so
Thou please, to suffer and to wait.
My enemies oppress and torture me full sore: But Paradise at
last, belike, shall compensate.
Though Fate press hard on me, I trust in the Elect, The
Accepted One of God, to be my advocate.
With this the King turned to him and said, ‘O youth, after having rid me of one trouble, thou addest another to me: but tell me, where is thy wife and where is the wounded slave?’ ‘The slave lies in the tomb under the dome,’ answered the youth, ‘and she is in the chamber over against the gate. Every day at sunrise, she comes out and repairs first to me and strips off my clothes and gives me a hundred strokes with the whip; and I weep and cry out, but cannot stir to keep her off. When she has done torturing me, she goes down to the slave with the wine and broth on which she feeds him; and to-morrow at sunrise she will come.’ ‘O youth,’ rejoined the King, ‘by Allah, I will assuredly do thee a service by which I shall be remembered and which men shall chronicle to the end of time!’ Then he sat down by the youth and talked with him till nightfall, when they went to sleep. At peep of day, the King rose and put off his clothes and drawing his sword, repaired to the mausoleum, where, after noting the paintings of the place and the candles and Lamps and perfumes burning there, he sought for the slave till he came upon him and slew him with one blow of the sword; after which he took the body on his back and threw it into a well that was in the palace. Then he returned to the dome and wrapping himself in the black’s clothes, lay down in his place, with his drawn sword by his side. After awhile, the accursed enchantress came out and, going first to her husband, stripped him and beat him with the whip, whilst he cried out, ‘Alas! the state I am in suffices me. Have mercy on me, O my cousin!’ But she replied, ‘Didst thou show me any mercy or spare my beloved?’ And beat him till she was tired and the blood ran from his sides. Then she put the hair shirt on him and the royal robes over it, and went down to the dome with a goblet of wine and a bowl of broth in her hands. When she came to the tomb, she fell a-weeping and wailing and said, ‘O my lord, speak to me!’ And repeated the following verse:
How long ere this rigour pass sway and thou relent? Is it not yet enough of the tears that I have spent?’
And she wept and said again, ‘O my lord, speak to me!’ The King lowered his voice and knotting his tongue, spoke after the fashion of the blacks and said, ‘Alack! alack! there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High the Supreme!’ When she heard this, she screamed out for joy and swooned away; and when she revived, she said, ‘O my lord, can it be true and didst thou indeed speak to me?’ The King made his voice small and said, ‘O accursed woman, thou deservest not that I should speak to thee!’ ‘Why so?’ asked she; and he replied, ‘Because all day thou tormentest thy husband and his cries disturb me, and all night long he calls upon God for help and invokes curses on thee and me and keeps me awake from nightfall to daybreak and disquiets me; and but for this, I had been well long ago. This is what has hindered me from answering thee.’ Quoth she, ‘With thy leave, I will release him from his present condition.’ ‘Do so,’ said the King, ‘and rid us of his noise.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered she, and going out into the palace, took a cup full of water and spoke over it certain words, whereupon the water began to boil and bubble as the cauldron bubbles over the fire. Then she went up to the young King and sprinkled him with it, saying, ‘By the virtue of the words I have spoken, if thou art thus by my spells, quit this shape for thy former one.’ And immediately he shook and rose to his feet, rejoicing in his deliverance, and said, ‘I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His apostle, may God bless and preserve him!’ Then she said to him, ‘Depart hence and do not return, or I will kill thee.’ And she screamed out in his face. So he went out from before her, and she returned to the dome and going down into the tomb, said, ‘O my lord, come forth to me, that I may see thy goodly form!’ The King replied in a weak v
oice, ‘What hast thou done? Thou hast rid me of the branch, but not of the root.’ ‘O my beloved, O my little black,’ said she, ‘what is the root?’ ‘Out on thee, O accursed one!’ answered he. ‘Every night, at the middle hour, the people of the city, whom thou by thine enchantments didst change into fish, lift up their heads from the water and cry to God for help and curse thee and me; and this is what hinders my recovery: so do thou go quickly and set them free, and after return and take me by the hand and raise me up; for indeed health returns to me.’ When she heard this speech of the King, whom she supposed to be the slave, she rejoiced and said, ‘O my lord, on my head and eyes be it, in the name of God!’ Then she went out, full of joy, and ran to the lake and taking a little of the water in her hand, spoke over it words that might not be understood, whereupon there was a great stir among the fish; and they raised their heads to the surface and stood upright and became men as before. Thus was the spell dissolved from the people of the city and the lake became again a populous city, with its streets and bazaars, in which the merchants bought and sold, and every one returned to his employment; whilst the four hills were restored to their original form of islands. Then the enchantress returned to the King and said to him, ‘O my lord, give me thy noble hand and arise.’ ‘Come nearer to me,’ answered he, in a faint voice. So she came close to him, and he took his sword and smote her in the breast, that the steel came forth, gleaming, from her back. He smote her again and cut her in twain, and she fell to the ground in two halves. Then he went out and found the young King standing awaiting him and gave him joy of his deliverance, whereupon the youth rejoiced and thanked him and kissed his hand. Quoth the Sultan, ‘Wilt thou abide in this thy city or come with me to mine?’ ‘O King of the age,’ rejoined he, ‘dost thou know how far it is from here to thy capital?’ And the Sultan replied, ‘Two and a half days’ journey.’ ‘O King,’ said the other, ‘if thou sleepest, awake! Between thee and thy capital is a full year’s journey to a diligent traveller; and thou hadst not come hither in two days and a half, save that the city was enchanted. But, O King, I will never leave thee, no, not for the twinkling of an eye!’ The Sultan rejoiced at his words and said, ‘Praised be God, who hath bestowed thee upon me! Thou shalt be my son, for in all my life I have never been blessed with a son.’ And they embraced each other and rejoiced with exceeding great joy. Then they returned to the palace, and the young King bade his officers make ready for a journey and prepare his baggage and all that he required. The preparations occupied ten days, at the end of which time the young King set out in company of the Sultan, whose heart burned within him at the thought of his long absence from his capital, attended by fifty white slaves and provided with magnificent presents. They journeyed day and night for a whole year, and God ordained them safety, till they drew near the Sultan’s capital and sent messengers in advance to acquaint the Vizier with his safe arrival. Then came out the Vizier and the troops, who had given up all hope of the Sultan’s return, and kissed the ground before him and gave him joy of his safety. So he entered his palace and sat down on his throne and the Vizier came in to him, to whom he related all that had befallen him with the young King: and the Vizier gave the latter joy of his deliverance. Then all things being set in order, the Sultan gave largesse to many of his people and sending for the fisherman who had brought him the enchanted fish and had thus been the first cause of the delivery of the people of the Black Islands, bestowed on him a dress of honour and enquired of his condition and whether he had any children, to which he replied that he had three children, two daughters and one son. So the King sent for them and taking one daughter to wife, married the other to the young King and made the son his treasurer. Moreover, he invested his Vizier with the sovereignty of the Black Islands and despatched him thither with the fifty officers, who had accompanied the young King thence, giving him robes of honour for all the amirs. So the Vizier kissed hands and set out for the Black Islands. The fisherman became the richest man of his time, and he and his daughters and the two Kings their husbands abode in peace till death came to them.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE PORTER AND THE THREE LADIES OF BAGHDAD.
There was once a porter of Baghdad who was a bachelor. One day, as he stood in the market, leant upon his basket, there came to him a lady, swathed in a wrapper of gold embroidered muslin, fringed with gold lace, and wearing embroidered boots and floating tresses plaited with silk and gold. She stopped before him and raising her kerchief, showed a pair of languishing black eyes of perfect beauty, bordered with long drooping lashes. Then she turned to the porter and said, in a clear sweet voice, ‘Take thy basket and follow me.’ No sooner had she spoken than he took up his basket in haste, saying, ‘O day of good luck! O day of God’s grace!’ and followed her till she stopped and knocked at the door of a house, when there came out a Nazarene, to whom she gave a dinar, and he gave her in return an olive-green bottle, full of wine, which she put into the basket, saying to the porter, ‘Hoist up and follow me.’ Said he, ‘By Allah, this is indeed a happy and fortunate day!’ And shouldering the basket, followed her till she came to a fruiterer’s, where she bought Syrian apples and Turkish quinces and Arabian peaches and autumn cucumbers and Sultani oranges and citrons, beside jessamine of Aleppo and Damascus water-lilies and myrtle and basil and henna-blossoms and blood-red anemones and violets and sweet-briar and narcissus and camomile and pomegranate flowers, all of which she put into the porter’s basket, saying, ‘Hoist up!’ So he shouldered the basket and followed her, till she stopped at a butcher’s shop and said to him, ‘Cut me off ten pounds of meat.’ He gave her the meat, wrapped in a banana leaf, and she put it in the basket, saying, ‘Hoist up, O porter!’ and went on to a grocer’s, of whom she took pistachio kernels and shelled almonds and hazel-nuts and walnuts and sugar cane and parched peas and Mecca raisins and all else that pertains to dessert. Thence to a pastry-cook’s, where she bought a covered dish and put therein open-work tarts and honey-fritters and tri-coloured jelly and march-pane, flavoured with lemon and melon, and Zeyneb’s combs and ladies’ fingers and Cadi’s mouthfuls and widow’s bread and meat-and-drink and some of every kind of sweetmeat in the shop and laid the dish in the basket of the porter, who said to her, ‘Thou shouldst have told me, that I might have brought a mule or a camel to carry all these good things.’ She smiled and gave him a tap on the nape, saying, ‘Make haste and leave chattering and God willing, thou shalt have a good wage.’ She stopped next at the shop of a druggist, where she bought rose-water and water-lily water and orange-flower water and willow-flower water and six other kinds of sweet waters and a casting bottle of rose-water mingled with musk, besides two loaves of sugar and frankincense and aloes-wood and ambergris and musk and saffron and candles of Alexandrian wax, all of which she put into the basket. Then she went on to a greengrocer’s, of whom she bought pickled safflower and olives, in brine and fresh, and tarragon and juncates and Syrian cheese and put them all into the basket and said to the porter, ‘Take up thy basket and follow me.’ So he shouldered his load and followed her till she came to a tall handsome house, with a spacious court before it and a two-leaved door of ebony, inlaid with plates of glittering gold. The lady went up to the door and throwing back her kerchief, knocked softly, whilst the porter stood behind her, musing upon her beauty and grace. After awhile the door opened and both the leaves swung back; whereupon he looked to see who opened it, and behold, it was a damsel of dazzling beauty and symmetry, high-bosomed, with flower-white forehead and rosy cheeks, eyes like those of gazelles or wild oxen and eyebrows like the crescent of the new moon of Ramazan, cheeks like blood-red anemones, mouth like Solomon’s seal, lips red as coral and teeth like clustered pearls or camomile-petals, neck like an antelope’s and bosom like a fountain, breasts like double pomegranates, belly like brocade and navel holding an ounce of benzoin ointment, even as says of her the poet:
One Thousand and One Nights Page 162