Thou hast heaped benefits on me, past all that I could crave! My
tongue suffices not to praise thy goodness to thy slave.
So I will thank thee whilst I live; and when I come to die, My
very bones shall never cease to thank thee in the grave.
Hardly had he finished, when the lice began to crawl over the skin of the Khalif, who fell to snatching them with either hand from his neck and throwing them down, exclaiming, ‘Out on thee, O fisherman, this gown is swarming with vermin!’ ‘O my lord,’ replied the fisherman, ‘they torment thee just now, but before a week has passed, thou wilt not feel them nor think of them.’ The Khalif laughed and said, ‘Out on thee! Dost thou think I mean to leave this gown on my body?’ ‘O my lord,’ said the fisherman, ‘I desire to say one word to thee.’ ‘Say on,’ answered the Khalif. ‘It occurs to me, O Commander of the Faithful,’ said the fisherman, ‘that if thou wish to learn hunting, so thou mayst have an useful trade ready to thy hand, this gown will be the very thing for thee.’ The Khalif laughed, and the fisherman went his way. Then the Khalif took up the basket of fish, and laying a little grass over it, carried it to Jaafer and stood before him. Jaafer, concluding that it was Kerim the fisherman, was alarmed for him and said, ‘O Kerim, what brings thee hither? Flee for thy life, for the Khalif is in the garden to-night, and if he see thee, thou wilt lose thy head.’ At this the Khalif laughed, and Jaafer knew him and said, ‘Surely thou art our lord the Khalif?’ ‘Yes, O Jaafer,’ replied he. ‘And thou art my Vizier and I came hither with thee; yet thou knewest me not; so how should Gaffer Ibrahim know me, and he drunk? Stay here, till I come back.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered Jaafer. Then the Khalif went up to the door of the pavilion and knocked softly, whereupon said Noureddin, ‘O Gaffer Ibrahim, some one knocks at the door.’ ‘Who is at the door?’ cried the old man; and the Khalif replied, ‘It is I, O Gaffer Ibrahim!’ ‘Who art thou?’ asked the gardener. ‘I, Kerim the fisherman,’ rejoined the Khalif. ‘I hear thou hast company, so have brought thee some fine fish.’ When Noureddin heard the mention of fish, he was glad, he and the damsel, and they both said to Ibrahim, ‘O my lord, open the door and let him bring the fish in to us.’ So he opened the door, and the Khalif entered, in his fisherman’s disguise, and began by saluting them. Quoth Ibrahim, ‘Welcome to the brigand, the robber, the gambler! Let us see thy fish.’ So the Khalif showed them the fish and behold, they were still alive and moving, whereupon the damsel exclaimed, ‘O my lord, these are indeed fine fish! Would that they were fried!’ ‘By Allah, O my mistress,’ replied Ibrahim, ‘thou art right.’ Then said he to the Khalif, ‘O fisherman, why didst thou not bring us the fish ready fried? Go now and fry them and bring them to us.’ ‘It shall be done at once,’ answered he. Said they, ‘Be quick about it.’ So he went out, running, and coming up to Jaafer, cried out, ‘Hallo, Jaafer!’ ‘Here am I, O Commander of the Faithful!’ replied he. ‘They want the fish fried,’ said the Khalif. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Jaafer, ‘give it to me and I will fry it for them.’ ‘By the tombs of my forefathers,’ said the Khalif, ‘none shall fry it but I, with my own hand!’ So he repaired to the keeper’s hut, where he searched and found all that he required, even to salt and saffron and marjoram and so forth. Then he laid the fish on the frying-pan and setting it on the brazier, fried them handsomely. When they were done, he laid them on a banana-leaf, and gathering some lemons from the garden, carried the dish to the pavilion and set it before them. So Noureddin and the damsel and Ibrahim came forward and ate, after which they washed their hands and Noureddin said to the Khalif, ‘O fisherman, thou hast done us a right welcome service this night!’ Then he put his hand to his pouch and taking out three of the dinars that Senjer had given him, said, ‘O fisherman, excuse me. By Allah, had I known thee before that which has lately befallen me, I had done away the bitterness of poverty from thy heart; but take this as an earnest of my good will!’ Then he threw the dinars to the Khalif, who took them and kissed them and put them up. Now the Khalif’s sole desire in all this was to hear the damsel sing; so he said to Noureddin, ‘O my lord, thou hast rewarded me munificently, but I beg of thy great bounty that thou wilt let this damsel sing an air, that I may hear her.’ So Noureddin said, ‘O Enis el Jelis!’ ‘Yes,’ replied she. And he said, ‘My life on thee, sing us something for the sake of this fisherman, for he wishes to hear thee.’ So she took the lute and struck the strings, after she had tuned them, and sang the following verses:
The fingers of the lovely maid went wandering o’er the lute, And
many a soul to ravishment its music did compel.
She sang, and lo, her singing cured the deaf man of his ill, And
he that erst was dumb exclaimed, “Thou hast indeed done
well!”
Then she played again, so admirably that she ravished their wits, and sang the following verses:
Thou honour’dst us, when thou didst in our land alight; Thy
lustre hath dispelled the moonless midnight gloom!
Wherefore with camphor white and rose-water and musk It e’en
behoveth us our dwelling to perfume.
At this the Khalif was agitated and so overcome with emotion that he was not master of himself for excess of delight, and he exclaimed, ‘By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is good!’ Quoth Noureddin, ‘O fisherman, doth this damsel please thee?’ ‘Ay, by Allah!’ replied he. Whereupon said Noureddin, ‘I make thee a present of her, the present of a generous man who does not go back on his giving nor will revoke his gift.’ Then he sprang to his feet and taking a mantle, threw it over the pretended fisherman and bade him take the damsel and begone. But she looked at him and said, ‘O my lord, art thou going away without bidding me adieu? If it must be so, at least, stay whilst I bid thee farewell and make known my case.’ And she repeated the following verses:
I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, Till I for
languor am become a body without soul.
Say not to me, beloved one, “Thou’lt grow consoled for me;” When
such affliction holds the heart, what is there can console?
If that a creature in his tears could swim as in a sea, I to do
this of all that breathe were surely first and sole.
O thou, the love of whom doth fill my heart and overflow, Even
when wine, with water mixed, fills up the brimming bowl,
O thou for whom desire torments my body and my spright! This
severance is the thing I feared was writ on fortune’s
scroll.
O thou, whose love from out my heart shall nevermore depart, O
son of Khacan, thou my wish, my hope unshared and whole,
On my account thou didst transgress against our lord and king And
left’st thy native land for me, to seek a foreign goal.
Thou givest me unto Kerim, may he for aye be praised! And
may th’ Almighty for my loss my dearest lord console!
When she had finished, Noureddin answered her by repeating the following:
She bade me adieu on the day of our parting And said, whilst for
anguish she wept and she sighed,
“Ah, what wilt thou do, when from me thou art severed?” “Ask that
of the man who’ll survive,” I replied.
When the Khalif heard what she said in her verses, ‘Thou hast given me to Kerim,’ his interest in her redoubled and it was grievous to him to separate them; so he said to Noureddin, ‘O my lord, verily the damsel said in her verses that thou hadst transgressed against her master and him who possessed her; so tell me, against whom didst thou transgress and who is it that has a claim on thee?’ ‘By Allah, O fisherman,’ replied Noureddin ‘there hangs a rare story by me and this damsel, a story, which, were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, would serve as a lesson to him who can profit by example.’ Said the Khalif, ‘Wilt thou not tell us thy story and acquaint
us with thy case? Peradventure it may bring thee relief, for the help of God is near at hand.’ ‘O fisher man,’ said Noureddin, ‘wilt thou hear our story in prose or verse?’ ‘Prose is but words,’ replied the Khalif, ‘but verse is strung pearls.’ Then Noureddin bowed his head and spoke the following verses.
O my friend, I have bidden farewell to repose, And the
anguish of exile has doubled my woes
I once had a father, who loved me right dear, But left me,
to dwell in the tombs, where all goes.
There fell on me after him hardship and pain And Fate broke
in pieces my heart with its blows.
He bought me a slave-girl, the fairest of maids; Her shape
shamed the branch and her colour the rose.
I wasted the substance he left me, alas! And lavished it
freely on these and on those,
Till for need I was minded to sell the fair maid, Though
sorely I grudged at the parting, God knows!
But lo! when the crier ‘gan call her for sale, A scurvy old
skin-flint to bid for her chose.
At this I was angered beyond all control And snatched her
away ere the crier could close;
Whereupon the old rancorous curmudgeon flamed up With
despite and beset me with insults and blows.
In my passion I smote him with right hand and left, Till my
wrath was assuaged; after which I arose
And returning, betook me in haste to my house, Where I hid
me for feat of the wrath of my foes.
Then the king of the city decreed my arrest: But a
kind-hearted chamberlain pitied my woes
And warned me to flee from the city forthright, Ere my
enemies’ springes my life should enclose.
So we fled from our house in the dead of the night And came
to Baghdad for a place of repose.
I have nothing of value, nor treasures nor gold, Or I’d
handsel thee, fisherman, freely with those!
But I give thee, instead, the beloved of my soul, And in her
thou hast gotten my heart’s blood, God knows!
When he had finished, the Khalif said to him, ‘O my lord Noureddin, explain to me thy case more fully!’ So he told him the whole story from beginning to end, and the Khalif said to him, ‘Whither dost thou now intend?’ ‘God’s world is wide!’ replied he. Quoth the Khalif, ‘I will write thee a letter to carry to the Sultan Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, which when he reads, he will do thee no hurt.’ ‘Who ever heard of a fisherman writing to kings?’ said Noureddin. ‘Such a thing can never be.’ ‘True,’ replied the Khalif; ‘but I will tell thee the reason. Know that he and I learnt in the same school, under one master, and that I was his monitor. Since that time, fortune has betided him and he is become a Sultan, whilst God hath abased me and made me a fisherman: yet I never send to him to seek aught, but he does my desire; nay, though I should ask of him a thousand favours a day, he would comply.’ When Noureddin heard this, he said, ‘Good: write that I may see.’ So the Khalif took pen and inkhorn and wrote as follows: ‘In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! This letter is from Haroun er Reshid son of el Mehdi to His Highness Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, whom I have compassed about with my favour and made governor for me in certain of my dominions. The bearer of these presents is Noureddin son of Felz ben Khacan the Vizier. As soon as they come to thy hand, do thou put off thy kingly dignity and invest him therewith, and look thou oppose not my commandment, so peace be on thee.’ Then he gave the letter to Noureddin, who took it and kissed it, then put it in his turban and set out at once on his journey. As soon as he was gone, Gaffer Ibrahim fumed to the Khalif and said to him, ‘O vilest of fishermen, thou hast brought us a couple of fish, worth a score of paras, and hast gotten three dinars for them; and thinkest thou to take the damsel also?’ When the Khalif heard this, he cried out at him and made a sign to Mesrour, who discovered himself and rushed upon him. Now Jaafer had sent one of the gardeners to the doorkeeper of the palace for a suit of the royal raiment for the Commander of the Faithful; so he went and returning with the suit, kissed the earth before the Khalif and gave it to him. Then he threw off the clothes he had on and dressed himself in those which the gardener had brought, to the great amazement of Gaffer Ibrahim, who bit his nails in bewilderment and exclaimed, ‘Am I asleep or awake?’ ‘O Gaffer Ibrahim,’ said the Khalif, ‘what state is this in which I see thee?’ With this, he recovered from his drunkenness and throwing himself on the ground, repeated the following verses:
Forgive the error into which my straying feet did fall, For the
slave sues for clemency from him to whom he’s thrall!
Lo, by confessing I have done what the offence requires! Where
then is that for which good grace and generous mercy call?
The Khalif forgave him and bade carry the damsel to the palace, where he assigned her a separate lodging and servants to wait upon her, saying to her, ‘Know that we have sent thy master to be Sultan in Bassora, and God willing, we will despatch him a dress of honour and thee with it.’
Meanwhile, Noureddin fared on, till he reached Bassora, when he repaired to the Sultan’s palace and gave a loud cry. The Sultan heard him and sent for him; and when he came into his presence, he kissed the earth before him and pulling out the letter, gave it to him. The Sultan, seeing that the superscription was in the handwriting of the Khalif, rose to his feet and kissed the letter three times, then read it and said, ‘I hear and obey God and the Commander of the Faithful!’ Then he summoned the four Cadis and the Amirs and was about to divest himself of the kingly office, when in came the Vizier Muin ben Sawa. The Sultan gave him the Khalif’s letter, and he read it, then tore it in pieces and putting it in his mouth, chewed it and threw it away. ‘Out on thee!’ exclaimed the Sultan (and indeed he was angry); ‘what made thee do that?’ ‘By thy life, O our lord the Sultan,’ replied Muin, ‘this fellow hath never seen the Khalif nor his Vizier: but he is a gallows-bird, a crafty imp who, happening upon a blank sheet in the Khalif’s handwriting, hath written his own desire in it. The Khalif would surely not have sent him to take the Sultanate from thee, without a royal mandate and a patent appended thereto, nor would he have omitted to send with him a chamberlain or a vizier. But he is alone and hath never come from the Khalif, never! never!’ ‘What is to be done?’ said the Sultan. ‘Leave him to me,’ replied the Vizier: ‘I will send him in charge of a chamberlain to the city of Baghdad. If what he says be true, they will bring us back royal letters-patent and a diploma of investiture; and if not, I will pay him what I owe him.’ When the Sultan heard the Vizier’s words, he said, ‘Take him.’ So Muin carried Noureddin to his own house and cried out to his servants, who threw him down and beat him, till he swooned away. Then he caused heavy shackles to be put on his feet and carried him to the prison, where he called the gaoler, whose name was Cuteyt, and said to him, ‘O Cuteyt, take this fellow and throw him into one of the underground cells in the prison and torture him night and day.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ replied he, and taking Noureddin into the prison, locked the door on him. Then he bade sweep a bench behind the door and laying thereon a mattress and a leather rug, made Noureddin sit down. Moreover, he loosed his fetters and treated him kindly. The Vizier sent every day to the gaoler, charging him to beat him, but he abstained from this, and things abode thus forty days’ time. On the forty-first day, there came a present from the Khalif: which when the Sultan saw, it pleased him and he took counsel about it with his Viziers, one of whom said, ‘Mayhap this present was intended for the new Sultan.’ Quoth Muin, ‘We should have done well to put him to death at his first coming;’ and the Sultan said, ‘By Allah, thou remindest me of him! Go down to the prison and fetch him, and I will strike off his head.’ ‘I hear end obey,’ replied Muin. ‘With thy leave I will have proclamation made in the city, “Whoso hath a mind to look upo
n the beheading of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, let him repair to the palace!” So, great and small will come out to gaze on him and I shall heal my heart and mortify those that envy me.’ ‘As thou wilt,’ said the Sultan; whereupon the Vizier went out, rejoicing, and commanded the chief of the police to make the aforesaid proclamation. When the folk heard the crier, they all mourned and wept, even to the little ones in the schools and the tradersin the shops, and some hastened to get them places to see the sight, whilst others repaired to the prison thinking to accompany him thence. Presently, the Vizier came to the prison, attended by ten armed slaves, and the gaoler said to him, ‘What seekest thou, O our lord the Vizier?’ ‘Bring me that gallows-bird,’ replied the Vizier; and the gaoler said, ‘He is in the sorriest of plights for the much beating I have given him.’ Then Cuteyt went into the prison, where he found Noureddin repeating the following verses:
One Thousand and One Nights Page 191