Then, when it was night, she brought her to me, after she had adorned her and perfumed her, and said to her, “Gainsay not this thy lord in aught that he shall seek of thee.” When she came to bed with me, I said in myself, “Verily, this damsel is more generous than I!” Then I sent away the slave-girl and drew not nigh unto her, but arose forthright and betaking myself to my wife, lay with her and did away her maidenhead. She straightway conceived by me and accomplishing the time of her pregnancy, gave birth to this dear little daughter; in whom I rejoiced, for that she was lovely to the utterest, and she hath inherited her mother’s wit and her father’s comeliness.
Indeed, many of the notables of the people have sought her of me in marriage, but I would not marry her to any, for that, one night, I saw, in a dream, the balance aforesaid set up and men and women being weighed, one against the other, therein, and meseemed I saw thee [and her] and it was said to me, “This is such a man, the allotted portion of such a woman.” Wherefore I knew that God the Most High had allotted unto her none other than thyself, and I choose rather to marry thee to her in my lifetime than that thou shouldst marry her after my death.’
When the poor man heard the merchant’s story, he became desirous of marrying his daughter. So he took her to wife and was vouchsafed of her exceeding love. Nor,” added the vizier, “is this story more extraordinary than that of the rich man and his wasteful heir.”
When the king heard his vizier’s story, he was assured that he would not slay him and said, “I will have patience with him, so I may get of him the story of the rich man and his wasteful heir.” And he bade him depart to his own house.
The Fifth Night of the Month
When the evening evened, the king sat in his privy closet and summoning the vizier, required of him the promised story. So Er Rehwan said, “Know, O king, that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
STORY OF THE RICH MAN AND HIS WASTEFUL SON.
There was once a sage of the sages, who had three sons and sons’ sons, and when they waxed many and their posterity multiplied, there befell dissension between them. So he assembled them and said to them, ‘Be ye one hand against other than you and despise not [one another,] lest the folk despise you, and know that the like of you is as the rope which the man cut, when it was single; then he doubled [it] and availed not to cut it; on this wise is division and union. And beware lest ye seek help of others against yourselves or ye will fall into perdition, for by whosesoever means ye attain your desire, his word will have precedence of your word. Now I have wealth which I will bury in a certain place, so it may be a store for you, against the time of your need.’
Then they left him and dispersed and one of the sons fell to spying upon his father, so that he saw him hide the treasure without the city. When he had made an end of burying it, he returned to his house; and when the morning morrowed, his son repaired to the place where he had seen his father bury the treasure and dug and took it and went his way. When the [hour of the] old man’s admission [to the mercy of God] drew nigh, he called his sons to him and acquainted them with the place where he had hidden his riches. As soon as he was dead, they went and dug up the treasure and found wealth galore, for that the money, which the first son had taken by stealth, was on the surface and he knew not that under it was other money. So they took it and divided it and the first son took his share with the rest and laid it to that which he had taken aforetime, behind [the backs of] his father and his brethren. Then he took to wife the daughter of his father’s brother and was vouchsafed by her a male child, who was the goodliest of the folk of his time.
When the boy grew up, his father feared for him from poverty and change of case, so he said to him, ‘Dear my son, know that in my youth I wronged my brothers in the matter of our father’s good, and I see thee in weal; but, if thou [come to] need, ask not of one of them nor of any other, for I have laid up for thee in yonder chamber a treasure; but do not thou open it until thou come to lack thy day’s food.’ Then he died, and his wealth, which was a great matter, fell to his son. The young man had not patience to wait till he had made an end of that which was with him, but rose and opened the chamber, and behold, it was [empty and its walls were] whitened, and in its midst was a rope hanging down and half a score bricks, one upon another, and a scroll, wherein was written, ‘Needs must death betide; so hang thyself and beg not of any, but kick away the bricks, so there may be no escape for thee, and thou shall be at rest from the exultation of enemies and enviers and the bitterness of poverty.’
When the youth saw this, he marvelled at that which his father had done and said, ‘This is a sorry treasure.’ Then he went forth and fell to eating and drinking with the folk, till nothing was left him and he abode two days without tasting food, at the end of which time he took a handkerchief and selling it for two dirhems, bought bread and milk with the price and left it on the shelf [and went out. Whilst he was gone,] a dog came and took the bread and spoiled the milk, and when the man returned and saw this, he buffeted his face and went forth, distraught, at a venture. Presently, he met a friend of his, to whom he discovered his case, and the other said to him, ‘Art thou not ashamed to talk thus? How hast thou wasted all this wealth and now comest telling lies and saying, “The dog hath mounted on the shelf,” and talking nonsense?’ And he reviled him.
So the youth returned to his house, and indeed the world was grown black in his eyes and he said, ‘My father said sooth.’ Then he opened the chamber door and piling up the bricks under his feet, put the rope about his neck and kicked away the bricks and swung himself off; whereupon the rope gave way with him [and he fell] to the ground and the ceiling clove in sunder and there poured down on him wealth galore, So he knew that his father meant to discipline him by means of this and invoked God’s mercy on him. Then he got him again that which he had sold of lands and houses and what not else and became once more in good case. Moreover, his friends returned to him and he entertained them some days.
Then said he to them one day, ‘There was with us bread and the locusts ate it; so we put in its place a stone, a cubit long and the like broad, and the locusts came and gnawed away the stone, because of the smell of the bread.’ Quoth one of his friends (and it was he who had given him the lie concerning the dog and the bread and milk), ‘Marvel not at this, for mice do more than that.’ And he said, ‘Go to your houses. In the days of my poverty, I was a liar [when I told you] of the dog’s climbing upon the shelf and eating the bread and spoiling the milk; and to-day, for that I am rich again, I say sooth [when I tell you] that locusts devoured a stone a cubit long and a cubit broad.’ They were confounded at his speech and departed from him; and the youth’s good flourished and his case was amended. Nor,” added the vizier,”is this stranger or more extraordinary than the story of the king’s son who fell in love with the picture.”
Quoth the king, “Belike, if I hear this story, I shall gain wisdom from it; so I will not hasten in the slaying of this vizier, nor will I put him to death before the thirty days have expired.” Then he gave him leave to withdraw, and he went away to his own house.
The Sixth Night of the Month
When the day departed and the evening came, the king sat in his privy chamber and summoned the vizier, who presented himself to him and he questioned him of the story. So the vizier said, “Know, O august king, that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE KING’S SON WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THE PICTURE.
There was once, in a province of Persia, a king of the kings, who was mighty of estate, endowed with majesty and venerance and having troops and guards at his command; but he was childless. Towards the end of his life, his Lord vouchsafed him a male child, and the boy grew up and was comely and learned all manner of knowledge. He made him a private place, to wit, a lofty palace, builded with coloured marbles and [adorned with] jewels and paintings. When the prince entered the palace, he saw in its ceiling the picture [of a woman], than
whom he had never beheld a fairer of aspect, and she was compassed about with slave-girls; whereupon he fell down in a swoon and became distraught for love of her. Then he sat under the picture, till, one day, his father came in to him and finding him wasted of body and changed of colour, by reason of his [continual] looking on that picture, thought that he was ill and sent for the sages and physicians, that they might medicine him. Moreover, he said to one of his boon- companions, ‘If thou canst learn what aileth my son, thou shalt have of me largesse.’ So the courtier went in to the prince and spoke him fair and cajoled him, till he confessed to him that his malady was caused by the picture. Then he returned to the king and told him what ailed his son, whereupon he transported the prince to another palace and made his former lodging the guest-house; and whosoever of the Arabs was entertained therein, he questioned of the picture, but none could give him tidings thereof.
One day, there came a traveller and seeing the picture, said, ‘There is no god but God! My brother wrought this picture.’ So the king sent for him and questioned him of the affair of the picture and where was he who had wrought it. ‘O my lord,’ answered the traveller, ‘we are two brothers and one of us went to the land of Hind and fell in love with the king’s daughter of the country, and it is she who is the original of the portrait. In every city he entereth, he painteth her portrait, and I follow him, and long is my journey.’ When the king’s son heard this, he said,’Needs must I travel to this damsel.’ So he took all manner rarities and store of riches and journeyed days and nights till he entered the land of Hind, nor did he win thereto save after sore travail. Then he enquired of the King of Hind and he also heard of him.
When the prince came before him, he sought of him his daughter in marriage, and the king said, ‘Indeed, thou art her equal, but none dare name a man to her, because of her aversion to men.’ So the prince pitched his tents under the windows of the princess’s palace, till one day he got hold of one of her favourite slave-girls and gave her wealth galore. Quoth she to him, ‘Hast thou a wish?’ Yes,’ answered he and acquainted her with his case; and she said, ‘Indeed thou puttest thyself in peril.’ Then he abode, flattering himself with false hopes, till all that he had with him was gone and the servants fled from him; whereupon quoth he to one in whom he trusted, ‘I am minded to go to my country and fetch what may suffice me and return hither.’ And the other answered, ‘It is for thee to decide.’ So they set out to return, but the way was long to them and all that the prince had with him was spent and his company died and there abode but one with him, on whom he loaded what remained of the victual and they left the rest and fared on. Then there came out a lion and ate the servant, and the prince abode alone. He went on, till his beast stood still, whereupon he left her and fared on afoot till his feet swelled.
Presently he came to the land of the Turks, and he naked and hungry and having with him nought but somewhat of jewels, bound about his fore-arm. So he went to the bazaar of the goldsmiths and calling one of the brokers, gave him the jewels. The broker looked and seeing two great rubies, said to him, ‘Follow me.’ So he followed him, till he brought him to a goldsmith, to whom he gave the jewels, saying, ‘Buy these.’ Quoth he, ‘Whence hadst thou these?’ And the broker replied, ‘This youth is the owner of them.’ Then said the goldsmith to the prince, ‘Whence hadst thou these rubies?’ And he told him all that had befallen him and that he was a king’s son. The goldsmith marvelled at his story and bought of him the rubies for a thousand dinars.
Then said the prince to him, ‘Make ready to go with me to my country.’ So he made ready and went with the prince till he drew near the frontiers of his father’s kingdom, where the people received him with the utmost honour and sent to acquaint his father with his son’s coming. The king came out to meet him and they entreated the goldsmith with honour. The prince abode awhile with his father, then set out, [he and the goldsmith] to return to the country of the fair one, the daughter of the King of Hind; but there met him robbers by the way and he fought the sorest of battles and was slain. The goldsmith buried him and marked his grave and returned, sorrowing and distraught to his own country, without telling any of the prince’s death.
To return to the king’s daughter of whom the prince went in quest and on whose account he was slain. She had been used to look out from the top of her palace and gaze on the youth and on his beauty and grace; so she said to her slave-girl one day, ‘Harkye! What is come of the troops that were encamped beside my palace?’ Quoth the maid, ‘They were the troops of the youth, the king’s son of the Persians, who came to demand thee in marriage, and wearied himself on thine account, but thou hadst no compassion on him.’ ‘Out on thee!’ cried the princess. ‘Why didst thou not tell me?’ And the damsel answered, ‘I feared thy wrath.’ Then she sought an audience of the king her father and said to him, ‘By Allah, I will go in quest of him, even as he came in quest of me; else should I not do him justice.’
So she made ready and setting out, traversed the deserts and spent treasures till she came to Sejestan, where she called a goldsmith to make her somewhat of trinkets. [Now the goldsmith in question was none other than the prince’s friend]; so, when he saw her, he knew her (for that the prince had talked with him of her and had depictured her to him) and questioned her of her case. She acquainted him with her errand, whereupon he buffeted his face and rent his clothes and strewed dust on his head and fell a-weeping. Quoth she, ‘Why dost thou thus?’ And he acquainted her with the prince’s case and how he was his comrade and told her that he was dead; whereat she grieved for him and faring on to his father and mother, [acquainted them with the case].
So the prince’s father and his uncle and his mother and the grandees of the realm repaired to his tomb and the princess made lamentation over him, crying aloud. She abode by the tomb a whole month; then she let fetch painters and caused them limn her portraiture and that of the king’s son. Moreover, she set down in writing their story and that which had befallen them of perils and afflictions and set it [together with the pictures], at the head of the tomb; and after a little, they departed from the place. Nor,” added the vizier, “is this more extraordinary, O king of the age, than the story of the fuller and his wife and the trooper and what passed between them.”
With this the king bade the vizier go away to his lodging, and when he arose in the morning, he abode his day in his house.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
The Seventh Night of the Month.
At eventide the king sat [in his privy sitting-chamber] and sending for the vizier, said to him, “Tell me the story of the fuller and his wife.” “With all my heart,” answered the vizier. So he came forward and said, “Know, O king of the age, that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
STORY OF THE FULLER AND HIS WIFE.
There was once in a certain city a woman fair of favour, who had to lover a trooper. Her husband was a fuller, and when he went out to his business, the trooper used to come to her and abide with her till the time of the fuller’s return, when he would go away. On this wise they abode awhile, till one day the trooper said to his mistress, ‘I mean to take me a house near unto thine and dig an underground passage from my house to thy house, and do thou say to thy husband, “My sister hath been absent with her husband and now they have returned from their travels; and I have made her take up her sojourn in my neighbourhood, so I may foregather with her at all times. So go thou to her husband the trooper and offer him thy wares [for sale], and thou wilt see my sister with him and wilt see that she is I and I am she, without doubt. So, Allah, Allah, go to my sister’s husband and give ear to that which he shall say to thee.”’
Accordingly, the trooper bought him a house near at hand and made therein an underground passage communicating with his mistress’s house. When he had accomplished his affair, the wife bespoke her husband as her lover had lessoned her and he went out to go to the trooper’s house, but turned back by the wa
y, whereupon quoth she to him, ‘By Allah, go forthright, for that my sister asketh of thee.’ So the dolt of a fuller went out and made for the trooper’s house, whilst his wife forewent him thither by the secret passage, and going up, sat down beside her lover. Presently, the fuller entered and saluted the trooper and his [supposed] wife and was confounded at the coincidence of the case. Then doubt betided him and he returned in haste to his dwelling; but she forewent him by the underground passage to her chamber and donning her wonted clothes, sat [waiting] for him and said to him, ‘Did I not bid thee go to my sister and salute her husband and make friends with them?’ Quoth he, ‘I did this, but I misdoubted of my affair, when I saw his wife.’ And she said, ‘Did I not tell thee that she resembleth me and I her, and there is nought to distinguish between us but our clothes? Go back to her.’
So, of the heaviness of his wit, he believed her and turning back, went in to the trooper; but she had foregone him, and when he saw her beside her lover, he fell to looking on her and pondering. Then he saluted her and she returned him the salutation; and when she spoke, he was bewildered. So the trooper said to him, ‘What ails thee to be thus?’ And he answered, ‘This woman is my wife and the voice is her voice.’ Then he rose in haste and returning to his own house, saw his wife, who had foregone him by the secret passage. So he went back to the trooper’s house and saw her sitting as before; whereupon he was abashed before her and sitting down in the trooper’s sitting-chamber, ate and drank with him and became drunken and abode without sense all that day till nightfall, when the trooper arose and shaving off some of the fuller’s hair (which was long and flowing) after the fashion of the Turks, clipped the rest short and clapped a tarboush on his head.
One Thousand and One Nights Page 491