He made the ablution and prayed a two-bow prayer; after which he looked at the ground, thinking to throw himself down, but, seeing it afar off, feared to be torn to pieces in the fall. Then he bethought him of the consequence of his disobedience to God, and it became a light matter to him to offer up his life and shed his blood, [rather than sin]; so he said, ‘O my God and my Lord, Thou seest that which is fallen on me; neither is my case hidden from Thee. Thou indeed canst all things, and the tongue of my case reciteth and saith as follows:
My heart doth sign to Thee and eke my vitals too; The soul within my soul is open to Thy view.
Lo, if I speak with Thee, I cry indeed aloud, Or, if I’m mute, my signs my speech to Thee renew.
O Thou to whom indeed no second is conjoined, A wretched lovesick soul and sad to Thee doth sue.
I have a heart that pants for woe, as well Thou knowst; But yet a hope have I, my thoughts confirm it true.
The sacrifice of life, for all its worth be small, Is yet the hardest thing of all that can ensue;
So, an it be Thy will to save me, of Thy grace, Thou, surely, O my hope, art able thereunto!’
Then he cast himself down from the belvedere; but God sent an angel, who bore him up on his wings and brought him to the earth, whole and unhurt. When he found himself safe on the ground, he returned thanks to God (to whom belong might and majesty) for His merciful protection and went straight to his wife, empty-handed. When she saw him, she asked him why he had tarried so long and what was come of that he had taken with him and why he returned empty-handed; whereupon he told her all that had befallen him, and she said, ‘Praised be God, who delivered thee from seduction and intervened between thee and calamity!’ Then she added, ‘O man, the neighbours use to see us light our brasier every night; and if they see us to-night without fire, they will know that we are destitute. Now it behoves us, in gratitude to God, to hide our destitution and join the fast of this night to that of yesterday and continue it for the sake of God the Most High.’ So she rose and filling the brasier with wood, lighted it, to give the neighbours the change, reciting the following verses:
I will conceal what is with me of trouble and distress And light my fire, that so my strait the neighbours may not guess.
What God decreeth I accept, so haply He may see My humbleness to Him and so accept of me no less.
Then they made the ablution and stood up to pray. Presently, one of the neighbours’ wives came in and asked leave to take a light from the fire. ‘At thy service,’ answered they: but, when she came to the fire, she cried out, saying, ‘Ho, such an one, (to the platter-maker’s wife,) take up thy bread before it burns!’ Quoth the wife to her husband, ‘Hearest thou what she says?’ ‘Go and look,’ answered he. So she went up to the oven, and behold, it was full of fine white bread. She took up the loaves, thanking God (to whom belong might and majesty) for the abounding good and great bounty He had bestowed on them, and carried them to her husband; and they ate of the bread and drank water and praised God the Most High. Then said the woman to her husband, ‘Come, let us pray to God the Most High, so haply He may vouchsafe us what will quit us of necessity and enable us to dispense with the weariness of toil for daily bread and devote ourselves [wholly] to worshipping Him and keeping His commandments.’ So the man rose and prayed, whilst his wife said ‘Amen’ to his prayer, when, behold, the roof clove in sunder and down fell a ruby, which lit the whole house with its lustre. At this, they rejoiced greatly and redoubled in praise and thanksgiving to God, praying what the Most High willed.
Then, the night being far spent, they lay down to sleep and the woman dreamt that she entered Paradise and saw therein many chairs and stools ranged in rows. She asked what these were and it was answered her, ‘These are the chairs of the prophets and the stools of the just and the pious.’ ‘Which is the stool of such an one, my husband?’ asked she; and it was said to her, ‘Yonder one.’ So she looked and seeing a hole in its side, asked what it was. Quoth they, ‘It is the place of the ruby that came down to you from the roof of your house.’ Thereupon she awoke, weeping and bemoaning the defect in her husband’s stool among the seats of the just; so she told him the dream and said to him, ‘Let us pray God to restore the ruby to its place, for to suffer hunger and poverty during the few days [of our life here] were easier than a default in thy seat among the just in Paradise.’ Accordingly, he prayed to his Lord, and behold, the ruby flew up to the roof [and disappeared,] whilst they looked at it. And they ceased not from their poverty and piety, till they went to the presence of God, to whom belong might and majesty.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
EL HEJJAJ AND THE PIOUS MAN.
It is told that El Hejjaj ben Yousuf eth Thekefi had been long in pursuit of a certain man of the notables, and when he [was at last taken and] came before him, he said to him, ‘O enemy of God, He hath given thee into my hand.’ Then he bade his men hale him to prison and said to them, ‘Lay him in strait and heavy fetters and build a cage over him, that he may not come forth of it nor any go in to him.’ So they bore him to prison and summoned the blacksmith, who came and laid him in irons. Every time the smith gave a stroke with his hammer, the prisoner raised his eyes to heaven and said, ‘Verily, to Him belong creation and commandment!’ Then they built the cage over him and left him therein, deserted and lonely, whereupon longing and consternation entered into him and the tongue of his case recited the following verses:
Wish of the wistful, unto Thee my wishes tend; My trust is in Thy grace, that all doth comprehend.
My case from Thee unhidden is; a look from Thee Is all the goal of my desires, my wishes’ end.
They’ve prisoned me and tried me sore with many a woe: Woe’s me, my strangerhood forlorn, without a friend!
Lone as I am, the thought of Thee my solace is And cheer, though slumber from mine eyes my woes forfend.
Ay, an Thou but accept of me, I reck not, I; What in my heart Thou seest of Thee right well is kenned.
At nightfall, the gaoler left his men to watch him and went to his house. On the morrow, when he repaired to the prison, he found the prisoner gone and the fetters lying on the ground; whereat he was affrighted and made sure of death. So he returned to his house and bade his family farewell, after which he took his shroud and the perfumes for his corpse, in his sleeve, and went in to El Hejjaj. The latter smelt the perfumes and said, ‘What is that?’ ‘O my lord,’ replied the gaoler, ‘it is I who have brought it.’ ‘And what moved thee to that?’ asked the governor; whereupon he told him his case, and El Hejjaj said, ‘Out on thee! Didst thou hear him say aught?’ ‘Yes,’ answered the gaoler. ‘Whilst the blacksmith was riveting his irons, he ceased not to look up to heaven and say, “Verily to Him belong creation and commandment.”’ ‘Woe to thee!’ rejoined El Hejjaj. ‘Dost thou not know that He, on whom he called in thy presence, delivered him in thine absence?’ And the tongue of the case recited the following verses on the subject:
O Lord, how many a trouble Thou away from me hast done! Yea, but for Thee I should nor sit nor stand beneath the sun.
Ay, from how many a parlous case, that I might not endure, Hast Thou, indeed, delivered me, how many and many an one!John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE BLACKSMITH WHO COULD HANDLE FIRE WITHOUT HURT.
A certain pious man once heard that there abode in such a town a blacksmith who could put his hand into the fire and pull out the red-hot iron, without its doing him any hurt. So he set out for the town in question and enquiring for the blacksmith, watched him at work and saw him do as had been reported to him. He waited till he had made an end of his day’s work, then, going up to him, saluted him and said to him, ‘I would fain be thy guest this night.’ ‘With all my heart,’ replied the smith, and carried him to his house, where they supped together and lay down to sleep. The guest watched his host, but found no sign of [special] devoutnes
s in him and said to himself, ‘Belike, he concealeth himself from me.’ So he lodged with him a second and a third night, but found that he did no more than observe the ordinary letter of the law and rose but little in the night [to pray]. At last he said to him, ‘O my brother, I have heard of the gift with which God hath favoured thee and have seen the truth of it with mine eyes. Moreover, I have taken note of thine assiduity in religious exercises], but find in thee no special fervour of piety, such as distinguisheth those in whom such miraculous gifts are manifest. Whence, then, cometh this to thee?’ ‘I will tell thee,’ answered the smith.
‘Know that I was once passionately enamoured of a certain damsel and required her many a time of love, but could not prevail upon her, for that she still crave fast unto chastity. Presently there came a year of drought and hunger and hardship; food failed and there befell a sore famine in the land. I was sitting one day in my house, when one knocked at the door: so I went out and found her standing there; and she said to me, “O my brother, I am stricken with excessive hunger, and I lift mine eyes to thee, beseeching thee to feed me for God’s sake!” Quoth I, “Dost thou not know how I love thee and what I have suffered for thy sake! I will give thee no whit of food, except thou yield thyself to me.” But she said, “Better death than disobedience to God.” Then she went away and returned after two days with the same petition for food. I made her a like answer, and she entered and sat down, being nigh upon death. I set food before her, whereupon her eyes ran over with tears, and she said, “Give me to eat for the love of God, to whom belong might and majesty!” “Not so, by Allah,” answered I, “except thou yield thyself to me.” Quoth she, “Better is death to me than the wrath of God the Most High.” And she left the food untouched and went away, repeating the following verses:
O Thou the Only God, whose grace embraceth all that be, Thine ears have heard my moan, Thine eyes have seen my misery;
Indeed, privation and distress are heavy on my head; I cannot tell of all the woes that do beleaguer me.
I’m like a man athirst, that looks upon a running stream, Yet may not drink a single draught of all that he doth see.
My flesh would have me buy its will: alack, its pleasures flee! The sin that pays their price abides to all eternity.
I saw no more of her for two days, when she came a third time and knocked at the door. I went out to her, and lo, hunger had taken away her voice; but, [after a little,] she said, “O my brother, I am worn out with want and know not what to do, for I cannot show my face to any but thee. Wilt thou feed me for the love of God the Most High?” “Not so,” answered I, “except thou yield to me.” And she entered and sat down. Now I had no food ready, [so I went out to prepare some]; but, when the meat was dressed and I had laid it in a platter, behold, the grace of God the Most High entered into me and I said to myself, “Out on thee! This woman, weak of wit and faith, hath forborne food, till she can endure from it no longer, for stress of hunger; and lo, she refuseth time after time, and thou still persistest in disobedience to God the Most High!” And I said, “O my God, I repent to Thee of that which I purposed!” Then I took the food and carrying it in to her, said, “Eat and [fear not:] no harm shall betide thee. It is for the love of God, to whom belong might and majesty.” When she heard this, she raised her eyes to heaven and said, “O my God, if this man be sincere, I pray Thee forbid fire to do him hurt in this world and the next, for Thou art He that answereth prayer and art powerful to do whatsoever thou wilt!”
Then I left her and went to put out the fire in the brasier. Now the time was the winter-cold, and a hot coal fell on my body; but, by the ordinance of God, (to whom belong might and majesty), I felt no pain and it was borne in upon me that her prayer had been answered. So I took the coal in my hand, (and it burnt me not,) and going in to her, said, “Rejoice, for God hath granted thy prayer!” And she dropped the morsel from her hand and said, “O my God, now that Thou hast shown me my desire of him and hast granted me my prayer for him, take Thou my soul, for Thou art Almighty!” And straightway He took her soul to Him, the mercy of God be upon her! And the tongue of the case recited and spoke the following verses on the subject:
She prayed and God answered the voice of her prayer And the sinner, who wooed her to lewdness, did spare.
He showed her her wishes accomplished on him And gave her the death that she sought then and there.
She came to his door, hoping succour to get, And sought of him solace to ease her despair.
But he clave to his error and followed his lusts And thought to enjoy her perforce, unaware
Of that which God willed to him. Sudden there came Repentance on him, though he purposed it ne’er.
Fast fated, O God, are men’s fortunes; To man If his destiny fare not, to it he must fare.John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE DEVOTEE TO WHOM GOD GAVE A CLOUD TO SERVE HIM AND THE DEVOUT KING.
There was once among the children of Israel a man of the devout, renowned for piety and continence and asceticism. He was a wanderer in the mountains and was used to pass the night in prayer; and God answered his prayers and gave him all he asked. Moreover, He had subjected to him a cloud, that journeyed with him, wherever he went, and poured water on him copiously, that he might make his ablutions and drink. After a time, his fervour abated, whereupon God took the cloud away from him and ceased to answer his prayers. Great was his grief because of this, and he ceased not to regret the time of grace and divine favour and to lament and bemoan himself, till, one night, he saw in a dream one who said to him, ‘An thou wouldst have God restore thee thy cloud, seek out such a king, in such a town, and beg him to pray for thee: so will God give thee back thy cloud, by virtue of his pious prayers.’ And he repeated the following verses:
I rede thee to the pious prince repair, Who’s powerful to order thine affair.
An he pray God for thee, the thing thou seekst Of rain galore shall reach thee at his prayer.
Among the Kings in worth he doth excel And is illustrious beyond compare.
Yea, thou with him shalt surely light on that Shall gladden thee and do away thy care;
Fare, then, o’er plains and deserts to his stead And leave not journeying till thou find him there.
When the hermit awoke, he set out for the town, to which he had been directed by the dream, and coming thither, enquired for the King’s palace. At the gate he found an officer sitting on a great chair and clad in splendid apparel; so he saluted him and he returned his salutation and said to him, ‘What is thy business?’ ‘I am a wronged man,’ answered the devotee, ‘and come to prefer my complaint to the King.’ Quoth the officer, ‘Thou mayst not win to him to-day; for he hath appointed unto petitioners such a day in every seven, on which they may go in to him; so go thy ways soberly till then.’ The hermit was vexed with the King for thus sequestering himself from the folk and said in himself, ‘How shall this man be of the friends of God (to whom belong might and majesty) and be on this wise?’ Then he went away and awaited the day of audience.
When it came, he repaired to the palace, where he found a number of folk at the gate, awaiting admission, and stood with them, till there came out a Vizier, clad in rich raiment and attended by guards and servants, who said, ‘Let those, who have petitions to present, enter.’ So the hermit entered with the rest and found the King seated in the midst of his officers and grandees. The Vizier took up his post before him and brought forward the petitioners, one by one, till it came to the hermit’s turn, when the King looked on him and said, ‘Welcome to the lord of the cloud! Sit down, till I be at leisure for thee.’
The hermit was confounded at his words and confessed his dignity and excellence; and when the King had made an end with the petitioners, he rose and dismissed his Viziers and grandees; then, taking the stranger by the hand, he carried him to the door of the [inner] palace, where they found a black slave, splendidly arrayed, with a helmet on his head and on his right hand and his left bows and coats of mail. He rose and
hastening to obey the King’s commandment, opened the door, and they went in, hand in hand, till they came to a low door, which the King opened himself and brought the hermit into a ruinous and neglected building and a chamber, wherein was nought but a prayer-carpet, an ewer for ablution and some mats of palm-leaves. Here the King put off his royal habit and donned a gown of coarse white wool and a tall cap of felt. Then he sat down and making the hermit sit, called out to his wife, who answered from within, saying, ‘Here am I.’ Quoth he, ‘Knowst thou who is our guest to-day?’ ‘Yes,’ replied she; ‘it is the lord of the cloud.’ And the King said, ‘Come in: it matters not for him.’ So there entered a woman, as she were a vision, with a face that glittered like the new moon; and she was clad in a gown and veil of coarse wool. Then said the King, ‘O my brother, dost thou desire to hear our story or that we should pray for thee and let thee go?’ ‘Nay,’ answered the hermit; ‘I wish to hear your story, for I long to know it.’
‘Know then,’ said the King, ‘that my forefathers handed down the throne, one to the other, and it descended from great one to great one, in unbroken succession, till it came to me. Now God had made this hateful to me, for I would fain have gone a-wandering, a pilgrim, over the earth and left the folk to govern themselves; but I feared lest they should fall into temptation and anarchy and swerve from the law of God, and the union of the Faith be broken up. Wherefore I took upon me the kingship and appointed to every head of them a set stipend and donned the royal robes and posted officers at the doors, as a terror to evil doers and for the defence of honest folk and the maintenance of law and order. When I had made an end of this, I entered this place and putting off my royal habit, donned these clothes thou seest; and this my uncle’s daughter is agreed with me to renounce the world and helps me to serve God. So we use to weave these palm-leaves [into mats or baskets] and earn, in the course of the day, wherewithal to break our fast at night- fall; and thus have we lived nigh upon forty years. Abide thou with us, so God have mercy on thee, till we sell our mats; so shalt thou sup and sleep with us this night and on the morrow go thy ways with that thou desirest, so it please God the Most High.’
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