One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  He stops has ears and blinds his eyes and draws his wit From him, as one draws out the hairs to paste that cling,

  Till, His decrees fulfilled, He gives him back his wit, That therewithal he may receive admonishing.

  Say not of aught that haps, ‘How happened it?’ For fate And fortune fore-ordained do order everything.

  Then he began to excuse himself to her, saying, ‘O my lady Meryem, verily the pen runneth with what God hath decreed. The folk put a cheat on me, to make me sell thee, and I fell into the snare and sold thee. Indeed, I have sorely failed of my duty to thee; but peradventure He who decreed our parting will vouchsafe us reunion.’ Quoth she, ‘I warned thee against this, for this it was I feared.’ Then she strained him to her bosom and kissed him between the eyes, reciting the following verses:

  Nay, by your love, I’ll ne’er forget the troth betwixt us plight, Though my life perish for desire and yearning for your sight.

  E’en as the ringdove doth lament upon the sandhills’ trees, So will I weep for you and wail all tides of day and night.

  My life is troubled after you, beloved: since from me You’re gone, no meeting-place have I nor sojourn of delight.

  At this juncture, the Frank came in to them and went up to Meryem, to kiss her hands; but she dealt him a buffet on the cheek, saying, ‘Avaunt, O accursed one! Thou hast followed after me without cease, till thou hast tricked my lord into selling me! But please God, all shall yet be well.’ The Frank laughed at her speech and wondered at her deed and excused himself to her, saying, ‘O my lady Meryem, what is my offence? Thy lord Noureddin here sold thee of his full consent and of his free will. Had he loved thee, by the virtue of the Messiah, he had not transgressed against thee! And had he not accomplished his desire of thee, he had not sold thee. Quoth one of the poets:

  Whoso of me is weary, my presence let him flee: If e’er again I name him, to call me fool thou’rt free.

  The world in all its wideness on me is not so strait That thou shouldst see me languish for who rejecteth me.’

  Now this damsel was the daughter of the King of France, the which is a wide and spacious city, abounding in arts and manufactures and rarities and trees and flowers and other plants, and resembleth the city of Constantinople: and for her going forth of her father’s city there was an extraordinary cause and thereby hangs a rare story, that we will set out in due order, to divert and delight the reader. She was reared with her father and mother in honour and indulgence and learnt rhetoric and penmanship and arithmetic and martial exercises and all manner crafts both of men and women, such as broidery and sewing and weaving and girdle-making and silk-cord making and enamelling gold on silver and silver on gold, till she became the pearl of her time and the unique [jewel] of her age and her day. Moreover, God (to whom belong might and majesty) had endowed her with such beauty and grace and elegance and perfection that she excelled therein all the folk of her time, and the kings of the isles sought her in marriage of her father, but he refused to give her to wife to any of her suitors, for that he loved her with an exceeding love and could not brook to be parted from her an hour. Moreover, he had no other daughter than herself albeit he had many sons, but she was dearer to him than they.

  It chanced one year that she fell sick of an exceeding sickness and came nigh upon death, wherefore she made a vow that, if she recovered from her sickness, she would make the pilgrimage to a certain monastery, situate in much an island, which was high in repute among the Franks who used to make vows to it and look for a blessing therefrom. When she was whole of her sickness she wished to accomplish her vow and her father despatched her to the convent in a little ship, with sundry knights and daughters of the chief men of the city to wait upon her. As they drew near the island, there came out upon them a ship of the ships of the Muslims, champions of the faith, warring in the way of God, who boarded the vessel and making prize of all who were therein, sold their booty in the city of Cairawan. Meryem herself fell into the hands of a Persian merchant, who was impotent and for whom no woman had ever discovered her nakedness; and he set her to serve him.

  Presently he fell ill and sickened well-nigh unto death, and the sickness abode with him two months, during which time she tended him after the goodliest fashion, till God made him whole of his malady, when he recalled her loving-kindness to him and the zeal with which she had tended him and being minded to requite her the good offices she had done him, bade her ask a boon of him. ‘O my lord,’ said she, ‘I ask of thee that thou sell me not but to the man of my choice.’ ‘So be it,’ answered he, ‘I grant thee this. By Allah, O Meryem, I will not sell thee but to him of whom thou shalt approve, and I put thy sale in thine own hand!’ And she rejoiced mightily in this. Now the Persian had expounded Islam to her and she became a Muslim and learnt of him the tenets and observances of the faith. Moreover, he made her get the Koran by heart and taught her somewhat of the theological sciences and the traditions of the Prophet; after which, he brought her to Alexandria and sold her to Noureddin, as hath been before set out.

  Meanwhile, when her father, the King of France, heard what had befallen his daughter and her company, he was sore concerned and despatched after her ships full of knights and champions, horsemen and footmen: but they all returned to him, crying out and saying, ‘Alas!’ and ‘Ruin!’ and ‘Woe worth the day!’ after having searched the islands of the Muslims and come on no tidings of her. The king grieved for her with an exceeding grief and sent after her that one-eyed lameter, for that he was his chief vizier, a stubborn tyrant and a froward devil, full of craft and guile, bidding him make search for her in all the lands of the Muslims and buy her, though with a shipload of gold. So the accursed wretch sought her in all the lands of the seas and all the cities of the Muslims, but found no sign of her till he came to Alexandria, when he discovered that she was with Noureddin Ali of Cairo, being directed to the trace of her by the kerchief aforesaid, [in which he recognized her handiwork,] for that none could have wrought it on such goodly wise but she. Then he bribed the merchants to help him in getting her from Noureddin and beguiled the latter into selling her, as hath been already related.

  When he had her in his possession, she ceased not to weep and lament: so he said to her, ‘O my lady Meryem, put away from thee this mourning and weeping and return with me to thy father’s city, the seat of thy royalty and the place of thy power and thy home, so thou mayst be among thy servants and attendants and be quit of this abasement and stranglehold. Enough hath betided me of travel and weariness and expense on thine account, for thy father bade me buy thee back though with a shipload of gold; and now I have spent nigh a year and a half in travel and toil and ravishment of wealth.’ And he fell to kissing her feet and hands and humbling himself to her; but she only redoubled in wrath against him, for all he could do to appease her, and said to him, ‘O Accursed one, may God the Most High not bring thee to thy desire!’

  Then his servants brought her a mule with gold- embroidered housings and mounting her thereon, raised over her head a silken canopy, with staves of gold and silver, and the Franks walked about her, till they brought her forth the city by the sea-gate, where they took boat with her and rowing out to a great ship [that lay in the harbour], embarked her therein. Then the vizier cried out to the sailors, saying, ‘Up with the mast!’ So they set up the mast and spreading the sails and the pendants, manned the sweeps and put out to sea. Meryem continued to gaze upon Alexandria till it disappeared from her eyes, when she fell a-weeping and lamenting passing sore and recited the following verses:

  O dwelling of the loved, shall there returning ever be To thee? But what know I of that which Allah shall decree?

  The ships of separation fare with us in haste away: Mine eyes be blotted out with tears that flow unceasingly,

  For severance from a friend, who was the end of my desire, With whom my sicknesses were healed and pains effaced from me.

  Be thou my substitute with him, O God; for that which is Committed to Thy charge one day
shall not be lost with Thee.

  The knights came up to her and would have comforted her, but she heeded them not, being distracted with passion and love-longing. And she wept and moaned and complained and recited the following verses:

  The tongue of passion in my heart bespeaketh thee of me And giveth thee to know that I enamoured am of thee.

  I have a liver all consumed with passion’s coals of fire, A heart, sore wounded by thy loss, that throbs incessantly.

  How shall I hide the love that burns my life away? My lids Are ulcered and my tears adown my cheeks for ever flee.

  In this plight she abode during all the voyage; no peace was left her nor would patience come at her call.

  Meanwhile, when the ship had sailed with Meryem, the world was straitened upon Noureddin and he had neither peace nor patience. He returned to the lodging where they had dwelt he and she, and it appeared black and gloomy in his sight. Then he saw the pins and silk with which she had been wont to make the girdles and her clothes that had been upon her body: so he pressed them to his breast, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes and he recited the following verses:

  Will union after severance return to me some day, After my long-continued tale of sorrow and dismay?

  Shall I with my love’s company be ever blest again? Now God forfend that what is past should ne’er return! I say.

  I wonder will He yet rebait our separated loves And will my dear ones keep the troth we plighted, I and they?

  And will she yet preserve my love, whom of my ignorance I lost, and guard our plighted troth and friendship from decay?

  Since they departed, as one dead am I: will my belov’d Consent that he who loves them dear should fall to death a prey?

  Alas, my sorrow! But lament the mourner profits not. For stress of yearning and regret I’m melted all away.

  Lost are the days of my delight: will Fortune e’er vouchsafe To me, I wonder, my desire and so my pains allay?

  O heart, redouble in desire and O mine eyes, o’erflow With tears. till not a tear to weep within mine eyelids stay.

  Alas for loved ones far away and patience lost to me! My helpers fail me and my woes full sorely on me weigh.

  To God the Lord of all, that He vouchsafe me the return Of my belov’d and our delight, as of old time, I pray.

  Then he wept passing sore and looking about the place, recited these verses also:

  I see their traces and pine for longing pain; My tears rain down on the empty dwelling-place;

  And I pray to God, who willed that we should part One day to grant us reunion, of His grace.

  Then he rose and locking the door of the house, went out, running, to the shore of the sea, where he fixed his eyes on the place of the ship that had carried her off, whilst sighs burst from his breast and he recited the following verses:

  Peace be upon thee! Nought to me can compensate for thee: I’m in two cases, near in thought, yet distant verily.

  I long for thee each time and tide, even as a man athirst Longs for the distant watering-place, that still from him doth flee.

  With thee my hearing and my sight, my heart and spirit are: Thy memory than honey’s self is sweeter far to me.

  O my despair, whenas your train departed and your ship Fared from the vision of mine eyes with thee across the sea.

  And he wept and wailed and bemoaned himself, crying out and saying, ‘O Meryem! O Meryem! Was it but in sleep I saw thee or in the illusions of dreams?’ And by reason of that which waxed on him of regrets, he recited these verses:

  Shall mine eyes ever look on thee, after this parting’s pain, And shall I ever hear thy call by house and camp again?

  And shall the house our presence cheered once more unite us two? Shall it my heart’s desire and thine be given us to attain?

  Take my bones with thee by the way and where thou lightest down, Bury them near thee, so they may with thee for aye remain.

  Had I a pair of hearts, with one I’d make a shift to live And leave the other to consume for love of thee in vain;

  And if, ‘What wouldst thou leave of God?’ ‘twere asked of me, I’d say, ‘Th’ Almighty’s favours first, then hers, my prayer to seek were fain.’

  As he was in this case, weeping and crying out, ‘O Meryem!’ an old man landed from a vessel and coming up to him, saw him weeping and heard him recite these verses:

  O Meryem of loveliness, return to me again; My eyeballs are as clouds that pour with never-ceasing rain.

  Do thou but ask, concerning me, of those at me that rail; They’ll tell thee that my lids lie drowned within their fountains twain.

  ‘O my son,’ said the old man, ‘meseems thou weepest for the damsel who sailed yesterday with the Frank?’ When Noureddin heard his words, he fell down in a swoon and lay awhile without life; then, coming to himself, he wept passing sore and recited the following verses:

  Is union after severance with her past hoping for And will the perfectness of cheer return to me no more?

  Anguish and love have taken up their lodging in my heart: The plate and gabble of the spies and railers irks me sore.

  I pass the day long in amaze, confounded, and anights To visit me in dreams of sleep her image I implore.

  Never, by God, a moment’s space am I for love consoled! How should it be so, when my heart the envious doth abhor?

  A leveling, soft and delicate of sides and slim of waist, She hath a beaming eye, whose shafts are lodged in my heart’s core.

  Her shape is as the willow-wand i’ the gardens and her grace For goodliness outshames the sun and shines his splendour o’er.

  Feared I not God (extolled be His majesty!) I’d say, ‘Extolled be Her. majesty, the fair whom I adore!

  The old man looked at him and noting his beauty and grace and symmetry and the eloquence of his tongue and the seductiveness of his charms, took compassion on him and his heart mourned for his case. Now he was the captain of a ship, bound to the damsel’s city, and in this ship were a hundred Muslim merchants: so he said to Noureddin, ‘Have patience and all shall yet be well; God willing, I will bring thee to her.’ ‘When shall we set out?’ asked Noureddin, and the other said, ‘Come but three days more and we will depart in peace and prosperity.’ Noureddin was mightily rejoiced at the captain’s words and thanked him for his bounty and kindness. Then he recalled the days of love-delight and union with his slave- girl without peer, and he wept sore and recited the following verses:

  Will the Compassionate, indeed, unite us, me and thee, And shall I win to my desire by favouring Fate’s decree?

  And shall time’s shifts vouchsafe me yet a visit from my fair And shall mine eyelids seize upon thine image greedily?

  Were thine enjoyment to be bought, I’d buy it with my life. But thy possession is, alack! too dear for me, I see.

  Then he went to the market and bought what he needed of victual and other necessaries for the voyage and returned to the captain, who said to him, “O my son, what is that thou hast with thee?’ ‘My provisions and that whereof I have need for the voyage,’ answered Noureddin. ‘O my son,’ said the old man, laughing, ‘art thou going a-pleasuring to Pompey’s Pillar? Verily, between thee and that thou seekest is two months’ journey, if the wind be favourable and the weather fair.’ Then he took of him somewhat of money and going to the market, bought him all that he needed for the voyage and filled him a cask with fresh water. Noureddin abode in the ship three days, till the merchants had made an end of their preparations and embarked, when they set sail and putting out to sea, fared on one-and-fifty days. After this, there came out upon them corsairs, who sacked the ship and taking Noureddin and the rest prisoners, carried them to the city of France and showed them to the king, who bade cast them into prison.

  At this moment the galleon arrived with the Princess Meryem and the one-eyed vizier, and when it reached the harbour, the latter landed and going up to the king, gave him the glad news of his daughter’s safe return: whereupon they beat the drums for good tidings and
decorated the city after the goodliest fashion. Then the king took horse, with all his guards and nobles, and rode down to the sea to meet her. Presently, she landed and the king embraced her and mounting her on a horse, carried her to the palace, where her mother received her with open arms and asked her how she did and whether she was yet a maid. ‘O my mother,’ replied Meryem, ‘how should a girl who has been sold from merchant to merchant in the land of the Muslims, [a slave] commanded, abide a maid ? The merchant who bought me threatened me with beating and forced me and did away my maidenhead, after which he sold me to another and he fain to a third.’

  When the queen heard this, the light in her eyes became darkness and she repeated her words to the king, who was sore chagrined thereat and his affair was grievous to him. So he expounded her case to his grandees and patriarchs, who said to him, ‘O king, she hath been defiled by the Muslims, and nothing will purify her save the striking off of a hundred of their heads.’ Whereupon the king sent for the prisoners and commanded to strike off their heads. So they beheaded them, one after another, beginning with the captain, till there was none left but Noureddin. They tore off a strip of his skirt and binding his eyes therewith, set him on the carpet of blood and were about to cut off his head, when an old woman came up to the king and said, ‘O my lord, thou didst vow to bestow upon the church five Muslim captives, to help us in the service thereof, so God would restore thee thy daughter the Princess Meryem; and now she is restored to thee, so do thou fulfil thy vow.’ ‘O my mother,’ replied the king, ‘by the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith, there remaineth to me but this one captive, whom they are about to put to death: so take him to help thee in the service of the church, till there come to me [other] prisoners of the Muslims, when I will send thee other four. Hadst thou come earlier, before they cut of the heads of these, I had given thee as many as thou wouldst.’

  The old woman thanked him and wished him continuance Of life and glory and prosperity. Then she went up to Noureddin and seeing him to be a comely and elegant youth, with a delicate skin and a face like the moon at her full, carried him to the church, where she said to him, ‘O my son, put of these clothes that are upon thee, for they are fit only for the king’s service.’ So saying, she brought him a gown and cowl of black wool and a broad girdle, in which she clad him, and bade him do the service of the church. Accordingly, he tended the church seven days, at the end of which time the old woman came up to him and said, ‘O Muslim, don thy silken clothes and take these ten dirhems and go out forthright and divert thyself abroad this day, and tarry not here a moment, lest thou lose thy life.’ Quoth he, ‘What is to do, O my mother?’ And she answered, ‘Know, O my son, that the king’s daughter, the Princess Meryem, hath a mind to visit the church today, to seek a blessing thereof and to make oblation thereto, by way of thank-offering for her deliverance from the land of the Muslims and in fulfilment of the vows she made to the Messiah, so he would deliver her. With her are four hundred damsels, not one of whom but is perfect in beauty and grace, and they will be here forthwith, and if their eyes fall on thee, they will hew thee in pieces with swords.’