One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  Like a sun at the end of a cane in a hill of sand, She shines in

  a dress of the hue of pomegranate-flower.

  She gives me to drink of her cheeks and her honeyed lips, And

  quenches the flaming fires that my heart devour.

  Then they changed her dress and displayed her in a robe of blue; and she reappeared like the moon when it bursts through the clouds, with her coal-black hair and her smiling teeth, her delicate cheeks and her swelling bosom, even as says the sublime poet:

  She comes in a robe the colour of ultramarine, Blue as the

  stainless sky unflecked with white.

  I view her with yearning eyes, and she seems to me A moon of the

  summer set in a winter’s night.

  Then they clad her in a third dress and letting down her long black ringlets, veiled her face to her eyes with the super-abundance of her hair, which vied with the murkiest night in length and blackness; and she smote all hearts with the enchanted arrows of her glances. As says the poet:

  With hair that hides her rosy cheeks ev’n to her speaking eyes,

  She comes; and I her locks compare unto a sable cloud

  And say to her, “Thou curtainest the morning with the night.” But

  she, “Not so; it is the moon that with the dark I shroud.”

  Then they displayed her in the fourth dress, and she shone forth like the rising sun, swaying to and fro with amorous languor and turning from side to side with gazelle-like grace. And she pierced hearts with the arrows of her eyelashes; even as says the poet:

  A sun of beauty she appears to all that look on her, Glorious in

  arch and amorous grace, with coyness beautified;

  And when the sun of morning sees her visage and her smile,

  Conquered, he hasteneth his face behind the clouds to hide.

  Then they displayed her in the fifth dress, with her ringlets let down. The downy hair crept along her cheeks, and she swayed to and fro, like a willow-wand or a gazelle bending down to drink, with graceful motions of the neck and hips. As says the poet, describing her:

  Like the full moon she doth appear, on a calm night and fair;

  Slender of shape and charming all with her seductive air.

  She hath an eye, whose glances pierce the hearts of all mankind,

  Nor can cornelian with her cheeks for ruddiness compare.

  The sable torrent of her locks falls down unto her hips; Beware

  the serpents of her curls, I counsel thee, beware!

  Indeed, her glance, her sides are soft, but none the less, alas!

  Her heart is harder than the rock; there is no mercy there.

  The starry arrows of her looks she darts above her veil; They hit

  and never miss the mark, though from afar they fare.

  When I clasp hands about her waist, to press her to my heart, The

  swelling apples of her breast compel me to forbear.

  Alas, her beauty! it outdoes all other loveliness; Her shape

  transcends the willow-wand and makes the branch despair.

  Then they unveiled her in the sixth dress, which was green. In this she reached the utmost bounds of loveliness, outvying in slender straightness the tawny spear-shaft, and in suppleness and flexile grace the bending branch, whilst the splendours of her face outshone the radiance of the full moon. Indeed, she transcended the fair of all quarters of the world and all hearts were broken by her loveliness; for she was even as says the poet:

  A damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace; You’d say

  the very sun had borrowed from her face.

  She came in robes of green, the likeness of the leaf That the

  pomegranate flower cloth in the bud encase.

  “How call’st thou this thy dress?” we said to her, and she Made

  answer with a word full of malicious grace.

  “Breaker of Hearts,” quoth she, “I call it, for therewith I’ve

  broken many a heart among the human race.”

  Then they dressed her in the seventh dress, which was of a colour between saffron and orange, even as says the poet:

  Scented with sandal and musk and ambergris, lo! she comes. The

  blended hues of her dress ‘twixt orange and saffron show.

  Slender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise, But the

  weight of her hips says, “Sit, or softly and slowly go.”

  When I solicit her kiss and sue for my heart’s desire, “Be

  gracious,” her beauty says, but her coquetry answers, “No.”

  They unveiled the bride, in all her seven dresses, before Bedreddin Hassan, leaving the hunchback sitting by himself; and when she opened her eyes, she said, “O my God, grant that this youth may be my husband and deliver me from this humpbacked groom.” Then they dismissed the company and all who were present retired, except Bedreddin Hassan and the hunchback, whilst the tire-women carried off the bride to undress her and prepare her for the bridegroom. Thereupon the hunchback came up to Bedreddin Hassan and said to him, “O my lord, thou hast cheered us with thy company tonight and overwhelmed us with thy favours. Wilt thou not now rise and depart?” “In the name of God,” replied Bedreddin, and rising, went out of the door, where the Afrit met him and said to him, “Stay where thou art, and when the hunchback goes out to the draught-house, enter thou the bride chamber and do not hesitate, but sit down in the alcove, and when the bride comes, say to her, ‘’Tis I who am thy husband, for the King only played this trick on thee, to conjure the evil eye from us; and he whom thou sawest is one of our grooms.’ Then go up to her and uncover her face and fear nothing, for jealousy hath taken us of this affair and none is worthy to enjoy her youth but thyself.’ As he was yet speaking, the groom came out and entering the closet, sat down on the stool. Hardly had he done so, when the Afrit appeared to him in the shape of a mouse, issuing from the water-trough, and cried “Queek!” Quoth the hunchback, “What ails thee?” And the mouse increased till it became a cat and said, “Miaou! Miaou!” Then it grew still more and became a dog and cried, “Bow! Wow!” When the hunchback saw this, he was terrified and exclaimed, “Begone, O unlucky one!” The dog increased and became an ass-colt, that brayed and cried out in his face, “Heehaw! Heehaw!” Whereupon the hunchback quaked and cried out, “Come to my aid, O people of the house!” But the ass increased and swelled, till it became a buffalo and barred the way against him and said with a human voice, “Out on thee, hunchback, thou stinkard!” The groom was seized with a colic and sat down on the jakes with his clothes on and his teeth chattering. Quoth the Afrit, “Is the world so small that thou canst find none to marry but my mistress?’’ But he was silent, and the Afrit said, “Answer me, or I will make thee a dweller in the dust.” “By Allah,” replied the hunchback, “I am not to blame, for they forced me to marry her, and I knew not that she had a buffalo for a gallant; but I repent to God and to thee. What wilt thou have me do?” Quoth the Afrit, “I swear to thee that, if thou leave this place or speak before sunrise, I will wring thy neck! When the sun rises, go thy way and never return to this house.” So saying, he seized the hunchback and set him upside down against the wall, with his head in the slit and his feet in the air, and said to him, “I will leave thee here and watch thee till sunrise; and if thou stir before then, I will seize thee by the feet and dash out thy brains against the wall.” Meanwhile Bedreddin Hassan entered the bride chamber and sat down in the alcove. Presently, in came the bride, attended by an old woman, who stopped at the door of the chamber and said, “O father of symmetry, arise and take what God sends thee.” Then the old woman went away, and the bride, whose name was the Lady of Beauty, entered, heart-broken and saying to herself, “By Allah, I will never yield myself to him, though he kill me!” When she came to the alcove, she saw Bedreddin sitting there and said, “O my friend, thou here at this hour! By Allah, I was wishing that thou wast my husband or that thou and the groom were partners in me!” “How should the groom have access
to thee,” asked Bedreddin, “and how should he share with me in thee?” Quoth she “Who is my husband, thou or he?” “O Lady of Beauty,” replied Bedreddin, “all this was only a device to conjure the evil eye from us. Thy father hired the hunchback for ten diners to that end, and now he has taken his wage and gone away. Didst thou not see the singers and tire-women laughing at him and how thy people displayed thee before me?” When the Lady of Beauty heard this, she smiled and rejoiced and laughed softly. Then she said to him, “Thou hast quenched the fire of my heart, so, by Allah, take me and press me to thy bosom.” Now she was without clothes; so she threw open the veil in which she was wrapped and showed her hidden charms. At this sight, desire stirred in Bedreddin, and he rose and put off his clothes. The purse of a thousand dinars he had received of the Jew he wrapped in his trousers and laid them under the mattress; then took off his turban and hung it on the settle, remaining in a skull-cap and shirt of fine silk, laced with gold. With this arose the Lady of Beauty and drew him to her, and he did the like with her. Then he took her to his embrace and pointing the engine that batters down the fortalice of virginity, stormed the citadel and found her an unpierced pearl and a filly that none but he had ridden. So he took her maidenhead and enjoyed her dower of youth; nor did he stint to return to the assault till he had furnished fifteen courses, and she conceived by him. Then he laid his hand under her head and she did the like, and they embraced and fell asleep in each other’s arms, whilst the tongue of the case spoke the words of the poet:

  Cleave fast to her thou lov’st and let the envious rail amain,

  For calumny and envy ne’er to favour love were fain.

  Lo! the Compassionate hath made no fairer thing to see Than when

  one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,

  Each to the other’s bosom clasped, clad in their own delight,

  Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks

  enchain.

  Lo! when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But

  on cold iron smite the folk that chide at them in vain.

  If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede

  thee cast the world away and with that one remain.

  As soon as Bedreddin was asleep, the Afrit said to the Afriteh, “Come, let us take up the young man and carry him back to his place, ere the dawn overtake us, for the day is near.” So she took up Bedreddin, as he lay asleep, clad only in his shirt and skull-cap, and flew away with him, accompanied by the Afrit. But the dawn overtook them midway and the muezzins began to chant the call to morning-prayer. Then God let His angels cast at the Afrit with shooting-stars, and he was consumed; but the Afriteh escaped and lighted down with Bedreddin, fearing to carry him further, lest he should come to harm. Now as fate would have it, she had reached the city of Damascus, so she laid Bedreddin down before one of its gates and flew away. As soon as it was day, the gate was thrown open and the folk came out, and seeing a handsome young man, clad in nothing but a shirt and skull-cap, lying on the ground, drowned in sleep by reason of his much swink of the night before, said, “Happy she with whom this youth lay the night! Would he had waited to put on his clothes!” Quoth another, “A sorry race are young men of family! Belike, this fellow but now came forth of the tavern on some occasion or other, but being overcome with drunkenness, missed the place he was making for and strayed till he came to the city gate, and finding it shut, lay down and fell asleep.” As they were bandying words about him, the breeze blew on him and raising his shirt, showed a stomach and navel and legs and thighs, firm and clear as crystal and softer than cream; whereupon the bystanders exclaimed, “By Allah, it is good!” And made such a noise, that Bedreddin awoke and finding himself lying at the gate of a city, in the midst of a crowd of people, was astonished and said to them, “O good people, where am I, and why do you crowd round me thus?” “We found thee lying here asleep, at the time of the call to morning-prayer,” replied they, “and this is all we know of the matter. Where didst thou lie last night?” “By Allah, good people,” answered he, “I lay last night in Cairo!” Quoth one, “Thou hast eaten hashish.” And another, “Thou art mad; how couldst thou lie yesternight in Cairo and awake this morning in Damascus?” “By Allah, good people,” rejoined he, “I do not lie to you; indeed I lay last night in the city of Cairo and yesterday I was in Bassora.” “Good,” said one; and another, “This youth is mad.” And they clapped their hands at him and said to each other, “Alack, the pity of his youth! By Allah, there is no doubt of his madness.” Then said they to him, “Collect thyself and return to thy senses. How couldst thou be in Bassora yesterday and in Cairo last night and yet awake in Damascus this morning?” But he said, “Indeed, I was a bridegroom in Cairo last night.” “Doubtless thou hast been dreaming,” rejoined they, “and hast seen all this in sleep.” So he bethought himself awhile, then said to them, “By Allah, it was no dream! I certainly went to Cairo and they displayed the bride before me, in the presence of the hunchback. By Allah, O my brethren, this was no dream; or if it was a dream, where is the purse of gold I had with me and my turban and trousers and the rest of my clothes?” Then he rose and entered the town and passed through its streets and markets; but the people followed him and pressed on him, crying out, “Madman! Madman!” till he took refuge in a cook’s shop. Now this cook had been a robber and a sharper, but God had made him repent and turn from his evil ways and open a cookshop; and all the people of Damascus stood in awe of him and feared his mischief. So when they saw Bedreddin enter his shop, they dispersed for fear of him and went their ways. The cook looked at Bedreddin and noting his beauty and grace, fell in love with him and said to him, “Whence comest thou, O youth? Tell me thy case, for thou art become to me dearer than my soul.” So Bedreddin told him all that had befallen him from first to last; and the cook said, “O my lord Bedreddin, this is indeed a strange thing and a rare story; but, O my son, keep thy case secret, till God grant thee relief, and abide here with me meanwhile, for I am childless and will adopt thee as my son.” And Bedreddin answered, “I will well, O uncle.” With this the cook went to the bazaar, where he bought him a handsome suit of clothes and made him put it on, then carried him to the Cadi and formally acknowledged him as his son. So Bedreddin passed in Damascus for the cook’s son and abode with him, sitting in the shop to take the money.