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One Thousand and One Nights

Page 285

by Richard Burton


  Now the son of the King of Hind had sought her in marriage, but her father had rejected him, for that he was ill- favoured, and she thought the prince was he. So, when she saw his beauty and grace, for indeed he was like the radiant moon, her heart was taken in the snare of his love, as it were a flaming fire, and they fell to talk and converse. Presently, her waiting-women awoke from their sleep and seeing the prince sitting with their mistress, said to her, ‘O my lady, who is this with thee?’ Quoth she, ‘I know not; I found him sitting by me, when I awoke. Belike it is he who seeks me in marriage of my father.’ ‘O my lady,’ answered they, ‘by the Most Great God, this is not he who seeks thee in marriage, for he is foul and this man is fair and of high condition. Indeed, the other is not fit to be his servant.’

  Then they went out to the eunuch and finding him asleep, awoke him, and he started up in alarm. Quoth they, ‘How comes it that thou art guardian of the palace and yet men come in to us, whilst we are asleep?’ When the eunuch heard this, he sprang in haste to his sword, but found it not, and fear took him and trembling. Then he went in, confounded, to his mistress and seeing the prince sitting talking with her, said to the former, ‘O my lord, art thou a man or a genie?’ ‘O it on thee, O unluckiest of slaves!’ replied the prince. ‘How darest thou even a prince of the sons of the Chosroës with one of the unbelieving Satans?’ Then he took the sword in his hand and said, ‘I am the King’s son-in-law, and he hath married me to his daughter and bidden me go in to her.’ ‘O my lord,’ replied the eunuch, ‘if thou be indeed a man, as thou avouchest, she is fit for none but thee, and thou art worthier of her than any other.’

  Then he ran to the King, shrieking out and rending his clothes and casting dust upon his head; and when the King heard his outcry, he said to him, ‘What has befallen thee? Speak quickly and be brief; for thou troublest my heart.’ ‘O King,’ answered the eunuch, ‘come to thy daughter’s succour; for a devil of the Jinn, in the likeness of a king’s son, hath gotten possession of her; so up and at him!’ When the King heard this, he thought to kill him and said, ‘How camest thou to be careless of my daughter and let this demon come at her?’ Then he betook himself to the princess’s palace, where he found her women standing, [awaiting him] and said to them, ‘What is come to my daughter?’ ‘O King,’ answered they, ‘sleep overcame us and when we awoke, we found a young man sitting talking with her, as he were the full moon, never saw we a fairer of favour than he. So we questioned him of his case and he avouched that thou hadst given him thy daughter in marriage. More than this we know not, nor do we know if he be a man or a genie; but he is modest and well bred, and doth nothing unseemly.’

  When the King heard this, his wrath cooled and he raised the curtain stealthily and looking in, saw a prince of the goodliest fashion, with a face like the shining full moon, sitting talking with his daughter. At this sight he could not contain himself, of his jealousy for his daughter, and putting the curtain aside, rushed in upon them, like a Ghoul, with his drawn sword in his hand. When the prince saw him, he said to the princess, ‘Is this thy father?’ ‘Yes,’ answered she; whereupon he sprang to his feet and taking his sword in his hand, cried out at the King with such a terrible cry, that he was confounded. Then he would have fallen on him with the sword; but the King, seeing that the prince was doughtier than he, sheathed his blade and stood till the latter came up to him, when he accosted him courteously and said to him, ‘O youth, art thou a man or a genie?’ Quoth the prince, ‘Did I not respect thy right and thy daughter’s honour, I would spill thy blood! How darest thou even me with devils, me that am a prince of the sons of the Chosroës, who, had they a mind to take thy kingdom, could shake thee from thy power and thy dominion and despoil thee of all thy possessions?’ When the King heard his words, he was smitten with awe and fear of him and rejoined, ‘If thou indeed be of the sons of the kings, as thou pretendest, how comes it that thou enterest my palace, without my leave, and soilest my honour, making thy way to my daughter and feigning that thou art her husband and that I have given her to thee to wife, I that have slain kings and kings’ sons, who sought her of me in marriage? And now who shall save thee from my mischief, when, if I cried out to my slaves and servants and bade them put thee to death, they would slay thee forthright? Who then shall deliver thee out of my hand?’

  When the prince heard this speech of the King, he answered, ‘Verily, I wonder at thee and at the poverty of thy wit! Canst thou covet for thy daughter a goodlier mate than myself and hast ever seen a stouter of heart or a more sufficient or a more glorious in rank and dominion than I?’ ‘Nay, by Allah,’ rejoined the King. ‘But, O youth, I would have had thee make suit to me for her hand before witnesses, that I might marry her to thee publicly; and now, were I to marry her to thee privily, yet hast thou dishonoured me in her person.’ ‘Thou sayst well, O King,’ replied the prince; ‘but, if thy servants and soldiers should fall upon me and slay me, as thou pretendest, thou wouldst but publish thine own dishonour, and the folk would be divided between belief and disbelief with regard to thee. Wherefore, meseems thou wilt do well to turn from this thought to that which I shall counsel thee.’ Quoth the King, ‘Let me hear what thou hast to propose.’ And the prince said, ‘What I have to propose to thee is this: either do thou meet me in single combat and he who slays the other shall be held the worthier and having a better title to the kingdom; or else, let me be this night and on the morrow draw out against me thy horsemen and footmen and servants; but [first] tell me their number.’ Quoth the King, ‘They are forty thousand horse, besides my own slaves and their followers, who are the like of them in number.’ ‘When the day breaks, then,’ continued the prince, ‘do thou array them against me and say to them, “This fellow is a suitor to me for my daughter’s hand, on condition that he shall do battle single-handed against you all; for he pretends that he will overcome you and put you to the rout and that ye cannot prevail against him.” Then leave me to do battle with them. If they kill me, then is thy secret the safelier hidden and thine honour the better guarded; and if I overcome them, then is the like of me one whose alliance a King should covet.’

  The King approved of his counsel and accepted his proposition, despite his awe and amaze at the exorbitant pretension of the prince to do battle against his whole army, such as he had described it to him, being at heart assured that he would perish in the mellay and so he be quit of him and freed from the fear of dishonour. So he called the eunuch and bade him go forthright to his Vizier and bid him assemble the whole of the troops and cause them don their arms and mount their horses. The eunuch carried the King’s order to the Vizier, who straightway summoned the captains of the army and the grandees of the realm and bade them don their harness of war and mount their horses and sally forth in battle array.

  Meanwhile, the King sat conversing with the prince, being pleased with his wit and good breeding, till daybreak, when he returned to his palace and seating himself on his throne, commanded the troops to mount and bade saddle one of the best of the royal horses with handsome housings and trappings and bring it to the prince. But the latter said, ‘O King, I will not mount, till I come in sight of the troops and see them.’ ‘Be it as thou wilt,’ answered the King. Then they repaired to the tilting ground, where the troops were drawn up, and the prince looked upon them and noted their great number; after which the King cried out to them, saying, ‘Ho, all ye men, there is come to me a youth who seeks my daughter in marriage, — never have I seen a goodlier than he, no, nor a stouter of heart nor a doughtier, for he pretends that he can overcome you, single-handed, and put you to the rout and that, were ye a hundred thousand in number, yet would ye be for him but little. But, when he charges upon you, do ye receive him upon the points of your lances and the edges of your sabres; for, indeed, he hath undertaken a grave matter.’

  Then said he to the prince, ‘Up, O my son, and do thy will on them.’ ‘O King,’ answered he, ‘thou dealest not fairly with me. How shall I go forth against them, seeing that I a
m afoot and they are mounted?’ ‘I bade thee mount, and thou refusedst,’ rejoined the King; ‘but take which of my horses thou wilt.’ But he said, ‘None of thy horses pleases me, and I will ride none but that on which I came.’ ‘And where is thy horse?’ asked the King. ‘Atop of thy palace,’ answered the prince, and the King said, ‘In what part of my palace?’ ‘On the roof,’ replied the prince. ‘Out on thee!’ quoth the King. ‘This is the first sign thou hast given of madness. How can the horse be on the roof? But we shall soon see if thou speak truth or falsehood.’ Then he turned to one of his chief officers and said to him, ‘Go to my palace and bring me what thou findest on the roof.’ And all the people marvelled at the prince’s words, saying, ‘How can a horse come down the steps from the roof? Verily this is a thing whose like we never heard.’

  Meanwhile, the King’s messenger repaired to the palace, accompanied by other of the royal officers, and mounting to the roof, found the horse standing there, — never had they looked on a handsomer; but when they drew near and examined it, they saw that it was made of ebony and ivory; whereat they laughed to each other, saying, ‘Was it of the like of this horse that the youth spoke? Surely, he must be mad; but we shall soon see the truth of his case. Belike, there hangs some great mystery by him.’ Then they lifted up the horse and carrying it to the King, set it down before him, and all the people flocked round it, staring at it and marvelling at the beauty of its fashion and the richness of its saddle and bridle. The King also admired it and wondered at it extremely; and he said to the prince, ‘O youth, is this thy horse?’ ‘Yes, O King,’ answered the prince; ‘this is my horse, and thou shalt soon see wonders of it.’ ‘Then take and mount it,’ rejoined the King, and the prince said, ‘I will not mount till the troops withdraw afar from it.’ So the King bade them withdraw a bowshot from the horse; whereupon quoth the prince, ‘O King, I am about to mount my horse and charge upon thy troops and scatter them right and left and cleave their hearts in sunder.’ ‘Do as thou wilt,’ answered the King; ‘and spare them not, for they will not spare thee.’ Then the prince mounted, whilst the troops ranged themselves in ranks before him, and one said to another, ‘When the youth comes between the ranks, we will take him on the points of our pikes and the edges of our swords.’ ‘By Allah,’ quoth another, ‘it were pity to kill so handsome and well-shaped a youth!’ ‘By Allah,’ rejoined a third, ‘ye will have hard work to get the better of him; for he had not done this, but for what he knew of his own prowess and valiantise.’

  Meanwhile, the prince, having settled himself in his saddle, whilst all eyes were strained to see what he would do, turned the peg of ascent; whereupon the horse began to sway to and fro and make the strangest of movements, after the manner of horses, till its belly was filled with air and it took flight with him and soared into the sky. When the King saw this, he cried out to his men, saying, ‘Out on you! Take him, ere he escape you!’ But his Viziers and officers said to him, ‘O King, how shall we overtake the flying bird? This is surely none but some mighty enchanter, and God hath saved thee from him. So praise thou the Most High for thy deliverance from his hand.’ Then the King returned to his palace and going in to his daughter, acquainted her with what had befallen. He found her sore afflicted for the prince and bewailing her separation from him; wherefore she fell grievously sick and took to her pillow. When her father saw her thus, he pressed her to his bosom and kissing her between the eyes, said to her, ‘O my daughter, praise God and thank Him for that He hath delivered thee from this crafty enchanter!’ And he repeated to her the story of the prince’s disappearance; but she paid no heed to his word and did but redouble in her tears and lamentations, saying to herself, ‘By Allah, I will neither eat nor drink, till God reunite me with him!’ Her father was greatly concerned for her plight and mourned sore over her; but, for all he could do to comfort her, passion and love-longing still grew on her for the prince.

  Meanwhile, the King’s son, whenas he had risen into the air, turned his horse’s head towards his native land, musing upon the beauty and grace of the princess. Now he had enquired of the King’s people the name of the princess and of the King her father and of the city, which was the city of Senaa of Yemen. So he journeyed homeward with all speed, till he drew near his father’s capital and making a circuit about the city, alighted on the roof of the King’s palace, where he left his horse, whilst he descended into the palace and finding its threshold strewn with ashes, bethought him that one of his family was dead. Then he entered, as of wont, and found his father and mother and sisters clad in mourning raiment of black, pale-faced and lean of body. When his father saw him and was assured that it was indeed his son, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon, but presently coming to himself, threw himself upon him and embraced him, straining him to his bosom and rejoicing in him exceedingly. His mother and sisters heard this; so they came in and seeing the prince, fell upon him, kissing him and weeping and rejoicing with an exceeding joy. Then they questioned him of his case; so he told them all that had befallen him from first to last and his father said to him, ‘Praised be God for thy safety, O solace of my eyes and life-blood of my heart!’

  Then the King bade hold high festival, and the glad news flew through the city. So they beat the drums and the cymbals and putting off the raiment of mourning, donned that of joy and decorated the streets and markets; whilst the folk vied with one another who should be the first to give the King joy, and the latter proclaimed a general pardon and opening the prisons, released those who were therein. Moreover, he made banquets to the people seven days and nights and all creatures were glad; and he took horse with his son and rode out with him, that the folk might see him and rejoice. After awhile the prince enquired for the maker of the horse, saying, ‘O my father, what hath fortune done with him?’ ‘May God not bless him,’ answered the King, ‘nor the hour in which I set eyes on him! For he was the cause of thy separation from us, O my son, and he hath lain in prison since the day of thy disappearance.’ Then he bade release him from prison and sending for him, invested him in a dress of honour and entreated him with the utmost favour and munificence, save that he would not give him his daughter to wife; whereat he was sore enraged and repented of that which he had done, knowing that the prince had learnt the secret of the horse and the manner of its motion. Moreover, the King said to his son, ‘Methinks thou wilt do well not to mount the horse neither go near it henceforth; for thou knowest not its properties, and it is perilous for thee to meddle with it.’ Now the prince had told his father of his adventure with the King’s daughter of Senaa, and he said, ‘If the King had been minded to kill thee, he had done so; but thine hour was not yet come.’

  When the rejoicings were at an end, the people returned to their houses and the King and his son to the palace, where they sat down and fell to eating and drinking and making merry. Now the King had a handsome slave-girl, who was skilled in playing upon the lute; so she took it and began to play upon it and sing thereto of separation of lovers before the King and his son, and she chanted the following verses:

  Think not that absence ever shall win me to forget: For what

  should I remember, if I’d forgotten you?

  Time passes, but my passion for you shall never end: In love of

  you, I swear it, I’ll die and rise anew.

  When the prince heard this, the fires of longing flamed up in his heart and passion redoubled upon him. Grief and regret were sore upon him and his entrails yearned in him for love of the King’s daughter of Senaa; so he rose forthright and eluding his father’s notice, went forth the palace to the horse and mounting it, turned the peg of ascent, whereupon it flew up into the air with him and soared towards the confines of the sky. Presently, his father missed him and going up to the summit of the palace, in great concern, saw the prince rising into the air; whereat he was sore afflicted and repented exceedingly that he had not taken the horse and hidden it: and he said in himself, ‘By Allah, if but my son return to me, I will destroy the ho
rse, that my heart may be at rest concerning my son.’ And he fell again to weeping and bewailing himself for his son.

  Meanwhile, the prince flew on through the air till he came to the city of Senaa and alighted on the roof as before. Then he went down stealthily and finding the eunuch asleep, as of wont, raised the curtain and went on, little by little, till he came to the door of the princess’s chamber and stopped to listen; when, behold, he heard her weeping plenteous tears and reciting verses, whilst her women slept round her. Presently, they heard her weeping and wailing and said, ‘O our mistress, why wilt thou mourn for one who mourns not for thee?’ ‘O little of wit,’ answered she, ‘is he for whom I mourn of those who are forgotten?’ And she fell again to weeping and wailing, till sleep overcame her.

  Now the prince’s heart ached for her, so he entered and seeing her lying asleep, without covering, touched her with his hand; whereupon she opened her eyes and saw him standing by her. Quoth he, ‘Why this weeping and mourning?’ And when she knew him, she threw herself upon him and embraced him and kissed him and answered, ‘For thy sake and because of my separation from thee.’ ‘O my lady,’ said he, ‘I have wearied for thee all this time!’ But she answered, ‘It is I who have wearied for thee, and hadst thou tarried longer, I had surely died!’ ‘O my lady,’ rejoined he, ‘what thinkest thou of my case with thy father and how he dealt with me? Were it not for my love of thee, O ravishment of all creatures, I had surely slain him and made him a warning to all beholders; but, even as I love thee, so I love him for thy sake.’ Quoth she, ‘How couldst thou leave me? Can life be sweet to me after thee?’ Quoth he, ‘Let what has happened suffice now: I am hungry and thirsty.’ So she bade her maidens make ready meat and drink, [and they sat eating and drinking and conversing] till nigh upon daybreak, when he rose to take leave of her and depart, ere the eunuch should awake, and she said, ‘Whither goest thou?’ ‘To my father’s house,’ answered he; ‘and I plight thee my troth that I will come to thee once in every week.’ But she wept and said, ‘I conjure thee, by God the Supreme, take me with thee whither thou goest and make me not taste anew the bitterness of separation from thee.’ Quoth he, ‘Wilt thou indeed go with me?’ and she answered, ‘Yes.’ ‘Then,’ said he, ‘arise, that we may depart.’ So she rose forthright and going to a chest, arrayed herself in what was richest and dearest to her of her trinkets of gold and jewels of price. Then he carried her up to the roof of the palace and mounting the horse, took her up behind him and bound her fast to himself; after which he turned the peg of ascent, and the horse rose with him into the air. When her women saw this, they shrieked aloud and told her father and mother, who rushed up to the roof of the palace and looking up, saw the ebony horse flying away with the prince and princess. At this the King was sore troubled and cried out, saying, ‘O King’s son, I conjure thee, by Allah, have compassion on me and my wife and bereave us not of our daughter!’ The prince made him no reply, but, thinking that the princess repented of leaving her father and mother, said to her, ‘O ravishment of the age, wilt thou that I restore thee to thy father and mother?’ ‘By Allah, O my lord, that is not my desire,’ answered she; ‘my only wish is to be with thee wherever thou art; for I am distracted by the love of thee from all else, even to my father and mother.’ At this the prince rejoiced greatly and made the horse fare softly with them, so as not to disquiet the princess; nor did they stay their flight till they came in sight of a green meadow, in which was a spring of running water. Here they alighted and ate and drank; after which they took horse again and fared on, till they came in sight of his father’s capital. At this, the prince was filled with joy and bethought himself to show her the seat of his dominion and his father’s power and dignity and give her to know that it was greater than that of her father. So he set her down in one of his father’s pleasance-gardens [without the city] and carrying her into a pavilion there, prepared for the King, left the horse at the door and charged her keep watch over it, saying, ‘Sit here, till my messenger come to thee; for I go now to my father, to make ready a palace for thee and show thee my royal estate.’ ‘Do as thou wilt,’ answered she, for she was glad that she should not enter but with due honour and observance, as became her rank.

 

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