One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  When the prince heard this, he replied to her with courtesy and reasonableness, saying, ‘O my mother, thou art a woman of sense and knowest how things go. Doth a man, when his head irketh him, bind up his hand?’ ‘No, by Allah, O my son,’ said she. ‘Even so,’ rejoined he, ‘my heart seeketh none but her and nought slayeth me but the love of her. By Allah, I am a lost man, an I find not one to counsel me aright and succour me! God on thee, O my mother, have pity on my strangerhood and the streaming of my tears!’ ‘By Allah, O my son,’ answered the old woman, ‘thy words rend my heart, but I know not how to help thee.’ Quoth he, ‘I beseech thee of thy favour, carry her a letter and kiss her hands for me.’ So she took compassion on him and said, ‘Write what thou wilt and I will carry it to her.’ When he heard this, he was transported for joy and calling for pen and ink and paper, wrote the following verses:

  O Heyat en Nufous, be gracious and incline Unto a lover who for severance doth pine.

  I was in all delight and ease of life, but now Distraction and despair consume this heart of mine.

  I company the night with sorrows in discourse And wakefulness cleaves fast all tides unto mine eyne.

  Pity a lover sad, afflicted with desire, Whose lids are ulcered aye with yearning’s tears of brine;

  And when the morning comes at last, the tardy morn, He’s drunken and distraught with passion’s heady wine.

  Then he folded the letter and kissing it, gave it to the old woman; after which he put his hand to a chest and took out a second purse of a hundred dinars, which he gave her, saying, ‘Divide this among the slave-girls.’ She refused it and said, ‘By Allah, O my son, I am not with thee for aught of this!’ But he thanked her and said, ‘Thou must indeed take it.’ So she took it and kissing his hands, returned to the princess, to whom said she, ‘O my lady, I have brought thee somewhat the like whereof is not with the people of our city, and it comes from a handsome young man, than whom there is not a goodlier on the surface of the earth.’ ‘O my nurse,’ answered the princess, ‘and whence cometh he?’ ‘From the parts of Hind,’ replied the old woman; ‘and he hath given me this dress of gold brocade, embroidered with pearls and jewels and worth the kingdom of Chosroes and Caesar.’ So saying, she opened the dress and spread it out before her, whereupon the whole palace was illumined by its brightness, by reason of the beauty of its fashion and the wealth of pearls and jewels with which it was broidered, and all who were present marvelled at it. The princess examined it and judging it to be worth no less than a whole year’s revenue of her father’s kingdom, said to the old woman, ‘O my nurse, comes this dress from him or another?’ ‘From him,’ answered she; and Heyat en Nufous said, ‘Is he of our town or a stranger?’ ‘He is a stranger,’ replied the old woman, ‘newly come hither; and he hath slaves and servants and is fair of face, symmetrical of shape, well-mannered, open-handed and open-hearted, never saw I a goodlier than he, except thyself.’

  ‘O my nurse,’ rejoined the princess, ‘this is an extraordinary thing, that a dress like this, which money cannot buy, should be in the hands of a merchant! What price did he set on it?’ ‘He would set no price on it,’ answered the old woman, ‘but gave me back the money thou sentest by me and swore that he would take nought thereof, saying, ‘It is a gift from me to the King’s daughter; for it beseemeth none but her; and if she will not accept it, I make thee a present of it.’ ‘By Allah,’ said the princess, ‘this is indeed rare liberality and wonderful munificence! But I fear the issue of his affair, lest he be brought to necessity. Why didst thou not ask him, O my nurse, if he had any desire, that we might fulfil it for him?’ ‘O my lady,’ answered the nurse, ‘I did ask him, and he said to me, “I have indeed a desire,” but would not tell me what it was. However, he gave me this letter and said, “Carry it to the princess.”’ So Heyat en Nufous took the letter and opened and read it; whereupon she was sore chafed and changing colour for anger, cried out to the old woman, saying, ‘Out on thee, O nurse! What is the name of this dog who dares to write thus to a king’s daughter? What affinity is there between him and me, that this dog should address me thus? By the great God, Lord of the well Zemzem and of the Kaabeh, but that I fear God the Most High, I would send and bind the dog’s hands behind him and slit his nostrils and cut off his nose and ears and crucify him on the gate of the bazaar wherein is his shop!’

  When the old woman heard this, she turned pale and trembled in every nerve and her tongue clave to her mouth; but she took courage and said, ‘Softly, O my lady! What is there in his letter to trouble thee thus? Is it aught but a memorial, wherein he taketh his complaint to thee of poverty or oppression, from which he hopes to be relieved by thy favour?’ ‘By Allah, O my nurse,’ replied the princess, ‘it is nought of this; but verses and shameful words! Needs must the dog be in one of three cases: either he is mad and hath no wit or he seeks his own slaughter, or else he is assisted to his wish of me by some one of exceeding puissance and a mighty Sultan. Or hath he heard that I am one of the light o’ loves of the city, who lie a night or two with whosoever seeketh them, that he writeth me shameful verses to debauch my reason withal?’ ‘By Allah, O my lady,’ rejoined the old woman, ‘thou sayst sooth! But reck not thou of yonder ignorant dog, for thou art seated in thy high-builded and unapproachable palace, to which the very birds cannot soar neither the wind pass over it, and he is distracted. Wherefore do thou write him a letter and chide him roundly and spare him no kind of reproof, but threaten him exceedingly and menace him with death and say to him, “Whence hast thou knowledge of me, that thou darest to write to me, O dog of a merchant, that trudgest far and wide all thy days in deserts and wastes for the sake of gaining a dirhem or a dinar? By Allah, except thou awake from thy sleep and put off thine intoxication, I will crucify thee on the gate of the bazaar wherein is thy shop!”’ Quoth the princess, ‘I fear lest he [be encouraged to] presume, if I write to him.’ ‘And what is he,’ rejoined the nurse, ‘that he should presume to us? Indeed, we write to him but to the intent that his presumption may be cut off and his fear magnified.’ And she ceased not to persuade her, till she called for inkhorn and paper and wrote him the following verses:

  O thou that feignest thee the prey of love and wakefulness, Thou that for passion spendst the nights in transport and distress,

  O self-deluder, dost thou seek enjoyment of a moon? Did ever any of the moon win grace and love-liesse?

  I rede thee hearken to my word; I give thee counsel fair; Desist, for danger, ay, and death do hard upon thee press.

  If thou to this request return, a grievous punishment Shall surely fall on thee from us and ruin past redress.

  Be reasonable, then: behold, I give thee good advice: Return unto thy wit and stint from this thy frowardness.

  By Him who did all things that be from nothingness create, Who with the golden glittering stars the face of heaven did dress,

  I’ll surely have thee crucified upon a cross of tree, If in the like of this thy speech thou do again transgress!

  Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who repaired to Ardeshir’s shop and delivered it to him, saying, ‘Here is thine answer, and thou must know that, when she read thy verses, she was exceeding wroth; but I soothed her and spoke her fair, till she consented to write thee an answer.’ He took the letter joyfully, but, when he had read it and apprehended its purport, he wept sore, whereat the old woman’s heart ached and she said, ‘O my son, may God spare thine eyes to weep and thy heart to mourn! What can be more gracious than that she should answer thy letter, under the circumstances?’ ‘O my mother,’ answered he, ‘how shall I do for a subtler device? Behold, she writes to me, threatening me with death and crucifixion and forbidding me from writing to her, and by Allah, I see my death to be better than my life; but I beg thee of thy favour to carry her another letter from me.’ ‘Write,’ said she, ‘and I warrant I’ll bring thee an answer. By Allah, I will venture my life to bring thee to thy desire, though I die to pleasure thee!’

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nbsp; He thanked her and kissing her hands, wrote the following verses:

  Dost thou with slaughter threaten me, for that I love thee dear? Death is decreed and slaughter eke to me were easefulness.

  Better death end a lover’s woes than that a weary life He live, rejected and reviled, forbidden from liesse.

  Visit a lover, for God’s sake, whose every helper fails; For praiseworthy it is in men to strive to soothe distress.

  An thou on aught determined be, up, then, and do thy will; I am thy worshipper and eke thy bondslave none the less.

  What shall I do? I cannot live without thee: otherguise How should it be, since lovers’ hearts constraint doth still oppress?

  Have ruth, O lady mine, on one who’s sick for love of thee; For all who love the noble stand excused of wantonness.

  He folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, together with two purses, containing two hundred dinars, which she would have refused, but he conjured her to take them. So she took them and said, ‘Needs must I bring thee to thy desire, despite thine enemies!’ Then she returned to the palace and gave the letter to Heyat en Nufous, who said, ‘What is this, O my nurse? Here are we in correspondence [with a man] and thou coming and going! Indeed, I fear lest the matter get wind and we be disgraced.’ ‘How so, O my lady?’ rejoined the old woman. ‘Who dare speak such a word?’ So she took the letter and read it and smote hand on hand, saying, ‘Verily, this is a calamity that is fallen upon us, and I know not whence this young man came to us!’ ‘O my lady,’ said the old woman, ‘God on thee, write him another letter; but be round with him this time and say to him, “If thou write me another word after this, I will have thy head struck off.”’ ‘O my nurse,’ answered the princess, ‘I am assured that the thing will not end after this fashion; it were better to leave it unanswered, and except the dog take warning by my previous threats, I will strike off his head.’ Quoth the old woman, ‘Then write him a letter and give him to know this.’ So Heyat en Nufous called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

  Thou that, heedless, letst the lessons of experience pass by, Thou whose amorous heart and doating doth for my possession sigh,

  Hopest thou, O self-deluder, to the heavens to attain? Dost thou think the moon to come at, shining in the distant sky?

  With a fire whose flames are quenchless I will surely burn thee up, And one day with swords destroying slain and slaughtered shalt thou lie!

  Yea, before thee the extremest of affliction hidden lies, Such as e’en the parting-places shall with white for terror dye.

  Wherefore take a friendly warning and from love-liking abstain, Nor to that which is not seemly evermore thyself apply.

  Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who carried it to Ardeshir, leaving the princess sore incensed by reason of this affair. The prince read the letter and bowed his head to the earth, making as if he wrote with his fingers and speaking not. Quoth the old woman, ‘O my son, what ails thee that thou sayst nought?’ ‘O my mother,’ answered he, ‘what shall I say, seeing that she doth but threaten me and redoubleth in hard-heartedness and aversion?’ ‘Write her a letter of what thou wilt,’ rejoined the nurse. ‘I will protect thee, and let not thy heart be cast down, for needs must I bring you together.’ He thanked her for her kindness and kissing her hand, wrote the following verses:

  A heart that unto him who loves no prayers may mollify Yea, and a lover for his love’s possession who doth sigh

  And lids that ever ulcered are with burning tears, what time The shrouding blackness of the dark falls on them from the sky!

  Be charitable, then; have ruth on one with passion worn, A lover parted from his love, that may not come her nigh.

  Drowned in the sea of tears and burnt with longing, knowing not Slumber nor peace, the whole night long unresting doth he lie.

  Cut thou not off my heart’s desire; for ’tis afflicted sore, Wasted and palpitating aye, for passion like to die.

  Then he folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, together with three hundred dinars, saying, ‘This is for the washing of thy hands.’ She thanked him and kissed his hands, after which she returned to the palace and gave the letter to the princess who read it and throwing it from her hand, sprang to her feet, whilst the vein of anger started out between her eyes. Then she walked, shod as she was with pattens of gold, set with pearls and jewels, till she came to her father’s palace, and none dared ask her how it was with her. When she reached the palace, she asked for the King, and the slave-girls said to her, ‘O my lady, he is gone forth a-hunting.’ So she returned, as she were a raging lioness, and spoke to none for the space of three hours, at the end of which time her wrath subsided and her brow cleared.

  When the old woman saw that her anger was past, she went up to her and kissing the earth before her, said to her, ‘O my lady, whither went those noble steps?’ ‘To the palace of the King my father,’ answered Heyat en Nufous. ‘And could no one do thine errand?’ asked the nurse. ‘No,’ replied the princess; ‘for I went to acquaint him with that which hath befallen me with yonder dog of a merchant, that he might lay hands on him and on all the merchants of the bazaar and crucify them over their shops and suffer no foreign merchant to abide in our town.’ Quoth the old woman, ‘And was this thine only reason for going to thy father?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Heyat en Nufous; ‘but I found him absent a-hunting and await his return.’ ‘I take refuge with God the All-hearing and knowing!’ exclaimed the old woman, ‘Praised be He! O my lady, thou art the most sensible of women and how couldst thou think of telling the King these wild words, which it behoveth none to publish?’ ‘And why so?’ asked the princess. ‘Suppose,’ said the nurse, ‘thou hadst found the King in his palace and told him all this and he had sent after the merchants and commanded to hang them over their shops, the folk would have seen them hanging and asked the reason and it would have been answered them, “They sought to debauch the King’s daughter.’ Then would they have spread divers reports concerning thee, some saying, ‘She abode with them half a score days, away from her palace, till they had taken their fill of her;” and other some otherguise; for honour, O my lady, is like milk, the least dust spoils it; or like glass, which, if it be cracked, may not be mended. So beware of telling thy father or any other of this matter, lest thy honour be ruined, for it will never profit thee to tell folk aught. Weigh what I say with thy keen wit, and if thou find it not just, do as thou wilt.’

  The princess pondered her words and seeing them to be altogether just, said, ‘Thou art right, O my nurse: indeed, anger had blinded my judgment.’ Quoth the old woman, ‘Thy resolve to tell no one is pleasing to God the Most High; but that is not all: we must not let the insolence of yonder vile dog of a merchant pass without rebuke. Write him a letter and say to him, “O vilest of merchants, but that I found my father absent, I had straightway commanded to hang thee and all thy neighbours. But thou shalt gain nothing by this; for I swear to thee by God the Most High that, if thou return to the like of this talk, I will blot out the trace of thee from the face of the earth!” And deal thou roundly with him in words, so shalt thou discourage him and arouse him from his heedlessness.’ ‘And wilt these words cause him to abstain from his offending?’ asked the princess. ‘How should he not abstain?’ replied the old woman. ‘Besides, I will talk with him and tell him what has passed.’ So the princess called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

  Thy hopes unto the winning our favours still cleave fast, And still of us thou meekest thy wishes to attain.

  It is his self-delusion alone that slays the man And that which he requireth of us shall be his bane.

  No man art thou of prowess thou hast no hosts at call; Thou’rt neither king nor viceroy, nor kingdom nor domain

  Hast; and were this the fashion of one who is our peer, Hoary for war and terrors he had returned again.

  Yet that wherein thou sinnest once more I’ll pardon thee, So thou from this time forward repent thee and refrain
.

  Then she gave the letter to the old woman, saying, ‘O my nurse, do thou admonish the dog, lest we [be forced to] cut of his head and commit sin on his account.’ ‘By Allah, O my lady,’ replied the old woman, ‘I will not leave him a side to turn on!’ Then she returned to Ardeshir and gave him the letter. He read it and shook his head, saying, ‘Verily, we are God’s and to Him we return! O my mother, what shall I do? My fortitude fails me and my patience is exhausted.’ ‘O my son,’ answered she, ‘take patience: peradventure, after this God shall bring somewhat to pass. Write that which is in thy mind and I will fetch thee an answer, and be of good cheer; for needs must I bring about union between her and thee, so God please.’ He blessed her and wrote the following verses:

  Since there is none to succour me in love and to assain, Me who of passion’s tyranny am all forgone and slain,

  Since flames of fire within my heart by day I do endure And through the weary night I seek a resting-place in vain,

  How should I leave to hope in thee, O term of all desire, Or rest content with what I dree of passion and its pain?

  I beg the Empyrean’s Lord to grant me His approof, Since I with longing for the fair am perished, heart and brain,

  Yea, and enjoyment speedily to give me. Oh, consent! For with the terrors of desire I’m smitten and o’erta’en.

  Then he folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, together with a purse of four hundred dinars. She took the whole and returning to the palace, gave the letter to the princess; but she refused to take it and said, ‘What is this?’ ‘O my lady,’ replied the old woman, ‘this is the answer to the letter thou wrotest to that dog of a merchant.’’ Quoth Heyat en Nufous, ‘Didst thou forbid him, as I told thee?’ ‘Yes,’ answered she; ‘and this is his answer.’ So the princess took the letter and read it; then turned to the old woman and said to her, ‘Where is the result thou didst promise me?’ ‘O my lady,’ replied she, ‘saith he not in his letter that he repenteth and will not again offend, excusing himself for the past?’ ‘Not so, by Allah!’ replied the princess. ‘On the contrary, he increases [his offending].’ ‘O my lady,’ rejoined the nurse, ‘write him a letter and thou shalt see what I will do with him.’ Quoth Heyat en Nufous, ‘There needs no letter nor answer’. ‘I must have a letter,’ answered the nurse, ‘that I may rebuke him roundly and cut off his hopes.’ ‘Thou canst do that without a letter,’ rejoined the princess: but the old woman said, ‘I cannot do it without the letter.’ So Heyat en Nufous called for inkhorn and paper and wrote these verses: