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One Thousand and One Nights

Page 888

by Richard Burton


  horses drink to a whistled tune.’”421

  Therewith up sprang the gardener lad and mounting one of the young men’s mules, was absent awhile, after which he returned with a Cairene girl, as she were a sheep’s tail, fat and delicate, or an ingot of pure silvern ore or a dinar on a porcelain plate or a gazelle in the wold forlore. She had a face that put to shame the shining sun and eyes Babylonian422 and brows like bows bended and cheeks rose-painted and teeth pearly-hued and lips sugared and glances languishing and breast ivory white and body slender and slight, full of folds and with dimples dight and hips like pillows stuffed and thighs like columns of Syrian stone, and between them what was something like a sachet of spices in wrapper swathed. Quoth the poet of her in these couplets,

  “Had she shown her shape to idolaters’ sight, * They would gaze

  on her face and their gods detest:

  And if in the East to a monk she’d show’d, * He’d quit Eastern

  posture and bow to West.423

  An she crached in the sea and the briniest sea * Her lips would

  give it the sweetest zest.”

  And quoth another in these couplets,

  “Brighter than Moon at full with kohl’d eyes she came * Like Doe,

  on chasing whelps of Lioness intent:

  Her night of murky locks lets fall a tent on her * A tent of

  hair424 that lacks no pegs to hold the tent;

  And roses lighting up her roseate cheeks are fed * By hearts and

  livers flowing fire for languishment:

  An ‘spied her all the Age’s Fair to her they’d rise *

  Humbly,425 and cry ‘The meed belongs to precedent!’”

  And how well saith a third bard,426

  “Three things for ever hinder her to visit us, for fear Of the

  intriguing spy and eke the rancorous envier;

  Her forehead’s lustre and the sound of all her ornaments And the

  sweet scent her creases hold of ambergris and myrrh.

  Grant with the border of her sleeve she hide her brow and doff

  Her ornaments, how shall she do her scent away from her?”

  She was like the moon when at fullest on its fourteenth night, and was clad in a garment of blue, with a veil of green, over brow flower-white that all wits amazed and those of understanding amated. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

  When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-seventh Night,

  She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the gardener brought a girl whom we have described possessed of the utmost beauty and loveliness and fine stature and symmetrical grace as it were she the poet signified when he said,427

  “She came apparelled in a vest of blue,

  That mocked the skies and shamed their azure hue;

  I thought thus clad she burst upon my sight,

  Like summer moonshine on a wintry night.”

  And how goodly is the saying of another and how excellent,

  “She came thick veiled, and cried I, ‘O display * That face like

  full moon bright with pure-white ray.’

  Quoth she, ‘I fear disgrace,’ quoth I, ‘Cut short * This talk, no

  shift of days thy thoughts affray.’

  Whereat she raised her veil from fairest face * And crystal spray

  on gems began to stray:

  And I forsooth was fain to kiss her cheek, * Lest she complain of

  me on Judgment-Day.

  And at such tide before the Lord on High * We first of lovers

  were redress to pray:

  So ‘Lord, prolong this reckoning and review’ * (Prayed I) ‘that

  longer I may sight my may.’”

  Then said the young gardener to her, “Know thou, O lady of the fair, brighter than any constellation which illumineth air we sought, in bringing thee hither naught but that thou shouldst entertain with converse this comely youth, my lord Nur al-Din, for he hath come to this place only this day.” And the girl replied, “Would thou hadst told me, that I might have brought what I have with me!” Rejoined the gardener, “O my lady, I will go and fetch it to thee.” “As thou wilt,” said she: and he, “Give me a token.” So she gave him a kerchief and he fared forth in haste and returned after awhile, bearing a green satin bag with slings of gold. The girl took the bag from him and opening it shook it, whereupon there fell thereout two-and-thirty pieces of wood, which she fitted one into other, male into female and female into male428 till they became a polished lute of Indian workmanship. Then she uncovered her wrists and laying the lute in her lap, bent over it with the bending of mother over babe, and swept the strings with her finger-tips; whereupon it moaned and resounded and after its olden home yearned; and it remembered the waters that gave it drink and the earth whence it sprang and wherein it grew and it minded the carpenters who cut it and the polishers who polished it and the merchants who made it their merchandise and the ships that shipped it; and it cried and called aloud and moaned and groaned; and it was as if she asked it of all these things and it answered her with the tongue of the case, reciting these couplets,429

  “A tree whilere was I the Bulbul’s home * To whom for love I

  bowed my grass-green head:

  They moaned on me, and I their moaning learnt * And in that moan

  my secret all men read:

  The woodman felled me falling sans offence, * And slender lute of

  me (as view ye) made:

  But, when the fingers smite my strings, they tell * How man

  despite my patience did me dead;

  Hence boon-companions when they hear my moan * Distracted wax as

  though by wine misled:

  And the Lord softens every heart to me, * And I am hurried to the

  highmost stead:

  All who in charms excel fain clasp my waist; * Gazelles of

  languid eyne and Houri maid:

  Allah ne’er part fond lover from his joy * Nor live the loved one

  who unkindly fled.”

  Then the girl was silent awhile, but presently taking the lute in lap, again bent over it, as mother bendeth over child, and preluded in many different modes; then, returning to the first, she sang these couplets,

  “Would they 430 the lover seek without ado, * He to his

  heavy grief had bid adieu:

  With him had vied the Nightingale431 on bough * As one far

  parted from his lover’s view:

  Rouse thee! awake! The Moon lights Union-night * As tho’ such

  Union woke the Morn anew.

  This day the blamers take of us no heed * And lute-strings bid us

  all our joys ensue.

  Seest not how four-fold things conjoin in one * Rose, myrtle,

  scents and blooms of golden hue.432

  Yea, here this day the four chief joys unite * Drink and dinars,

  beloved and lover true:

  So win thy worldly joy, for joys go past * And naught but storied

  tales and legends last.”

  When Nur al-Din heard the girl sing these lines he looked on her with eyes of love and could scarce contain himself for the violence of his inclination to her; and on like wise was it with her, because she glanced at the company who were present of the sons of the merchants and she saw that Nur al-Din was amongst the rest as moon among stars; for that he was sweet of speech and replete with amorous grace, perfect in stature and symmetry, brightness and loveliness, pure of all defect, than the breeze of morn softer, than Tasnim blander, as saith of him the poet,433

  “By his cheeks’ unfading damask and his smiling teeth I swear, By

  the arrows that he feathers with the witchery of his air,

  By his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,

  By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his

  hair,

  By his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from my lids

  With their yeas and noes that ho
ld me ‘twixt rejoicing and

  despair,

  By the Scorpions that he launches from his ringlet-clustered

  brows, Seeking still to slay his lovers with his rigours

  unaware,

  By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheek, By his

  lips’ incarnate rubies and his teeth’s fine pearls and rare,

  By the straight and tender sapling of his shape, which for its

  fruit Doth the twin pomegranates, shining in his snowy

  bosom, wear,

  By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And

  the slender waist above them, all too slight their weight to

  bear,

  By the silk of his apparel and his quick and sprightly wit, By

  all attributes of beauty that are fallen to his share;

  Lo, the musk exhales its fragrance from his breath, and eke the

  breeze From his scent the perfume borrows, that it scatters

  everywhere.

  Yea, the sun in all his splendour cannot with his brightness vie

  And the crescent moon’s a fragment that he from his nails

  doth pare.”

  — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

  When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night,

  She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din was delighted with the girl’s verses and he swayed from side to side for drunkenness and fell a-praising her and saying,

  “A lutanist to us inclined * And stole our wits bemused with

  wine:

  And said to us her lute, ‘The Lord * Bade us discourse by voice

  divine.’”

  When she heard him thus improvise the girl gazed at him with loving eyes and redoubled in passion and desire for him increased upon her, and indeed she marvelled at his beauty and loveliness, symmetry and grace, so that she could not contain herself, but took the lute in lap again and sang these couplets,

  “He blames me for casting on him my sight * And parts fro’ me

  bearing my life and sprite:

  He repels me but kens what my heart endures * As though Allah

  himself had inspired the wight:

  I portrayed his portrait in palm of hand * And cried to mine

  eyes, ‘Weep your doleful plight.’

  For neither shall eyes of me spy his like * Nor my heart have

  patience to bear its blight:

  Wherefore, will I tear thee from breast, O Heart * As one who

  regards him with jealous spite.

  And when say I, ‘O heart be consoled for pine,’ * ’Tis that heart

  to none other shall e’er incline:”

  Nur al-Din wondered at the charms of her verse and the elegance of her expression and the sweetness of her voice and the eloquence of her speech and his wit fled for stress of love and longing, and ecstasy and distraction, so that he could not refrain from her a single moment, but bent to her and strained her to his bosom: and she in like manner bowed her form over his and abandoned herself to his embrace and bussed him between the eyes. Then he kissed her on the mouth and played with her at kisses, after the manner of the billing of doves; and she met him with like warmth and did with him as she was done by till the others were distracted and rose to their feet; whereupon Nur al-Din was ashamed and held his hand from her. Then she took her lute and, preluding thereon in manifold modes, lastly returned to the first and sang these couplets,

  “A Moon, when he bends him those eyes lay bare * A brand that

  gars gazing gazelle despair:

  A King, rarest charms are the host of him * And his lance-like

  shape men with cane compare:

  Were his softness of sides to his heart transferred * His friend

  had not suffered such cark and care:

  Ah for hardest heart and for softest sides! * Why not that to

  these alter, make here go there?

  O thou who accusest my love excuse: * Take eternal and leave me

  the transient share.”434

  When Nur al-Din heard the sweetness of her voice and the rareness of her verse, he inclined to her for delight and could not contain himself for excess of wonderment; so he recited these couplets,

  “Methought she was the forenoon sun until she donned the veil *

  But lit she fire in vitals mine still flaring fierce and

  high,

  How had it hurt her an she deigned return my poor salám * With

  fingertips or e’en vouchsafed one little wink of eye?

  The cavalier who spied her face was wholly stupefied * By charms

  that glorify the place and every charm outvie.

  ‘Be this the Fair who makes thee pine and long for love liesse? *

  Indeed thou art excused!’ ‘This is my fairest she;’(quoth I)

  Who shot me with the shaft of looks nor deigns to rue my woes *

  Of strangerhood and broken heart and love I must aby:

  I rose a-morn with vanquished heart, to longing love a prey * And

  weep I through the live long day and all the night I cry.”

  The girl marvelled at his eloquence and elegance and taking her lute, smote thereon with the goodliest of performance, repeating all the melodies, and sang these couplets,

  “By the life o’ thy face, O thou life o’ my sprite! * I’ll ne’er

  leave thy love for despair or delight:

  When art cruel thy vision stands hard by my side * And the

  thought of thee haunts me when far from sight:

  O who saddenest my glance albe weeting that I * No love but thy

  love will for ever requite?

  Thy cheeks are of Rose and thy lips-dews are wine; * Say, wilt

  grudge them to us in this charming site?”

  Hereat Nur al-Din was gladdened with extreme gladness and wondered with the utmost wonder, so he answered her verse with these couplets,

  “The sun yellowed not in the murk gloom li’en * But lay pearl

  enveiled ‘neath horizon-chine;

  Nor showed its crest to the eyes of Morn * But took refuge from

  parting with Morning-shine.435

  Take my tear-drops that trickle as chain on chain * And they’ll

  tell my case with the clearest sign.

  An my tears be likened to Nile-flood, like * Malak’s436

  flooded flat be this love o’mine.

  Quoth she, ‘Bring thy riches!’ Quoth I, ‘Come, take!’ * ‘And thy

  sleep?’ ‘Yes, take it from lids of eyne!’”

  When the girl heard Nur al-Din’s words and noted the beauty of his eloquence her senses fled and her wit was dazed and love of him gat hold upon her whole heart. So she pressed him to her bosom and fell to kissing him like the billing of doves, whilst he returned her caresses with successive kisses; but preeminence appertaineth to precedence.437 When she had made an end of kissing, she took the lute and recited these couplets,

  “Alas, alack and well-away for blamer’s calumny! * Whether or not

  I make my moan or plead or show no plea:

  O spurner of my love I ne’er of thee so hard would deem * That I

  of thee should be despised, of thee my property.

  I wont at lovers’ love to rail and for their passion chide, * But

  now I fain debase myself to all who rail at thee:

  Yea, only yesterday I wont all amourists to blame * But now I

  pardon hearts that pine for passion’s ecstasy;

  And of my stress of parting-stowre on me so heavy weighs * At

  morning prayer to Him I’ll cry, ‘In thy name, O Ali!’”

  And also these two couplets,

  “His lovers said, ‘Unless he deign to give us all a drink * Of

  wine, of fine old wine his lips deal in their purity;

  We to the Lord of Threefold Worlds will pray to grant our prayer’

  * And all exclaim with si
ngle cry ‘In thy name, O Ali!’”

  Nur al-Din, hearing these lines and their rhyme, marvelled at the fluency of her tongue and thanked her, praising her grace and passing seductiveness; and the damsel, delighted at his praise, arose without stay or delay and doffing that was upon her of outer dress and trinkets till she was free of all encumbrance sat down on his knees and kissed him between the eyes and on his cheek-mole. Then she gave him all she had put off. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

  When it was the Eight Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,

  She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the girl gave to Nur al-Din all she had doffed, saying, “O beloved of my heart, in very sooth the gift is after the measure of the giver.” So he accepted this from her and gave it back to her and kissed her on the mouth and cheeks and eyes. When this was ended and done, for naught is durable save the Living, the Eternal, Provider of the peacock and the owl,438 Nur al-Din rose from the séance and stood upon his feet, because the darkness was now fallen and the stars shone out; whereupon quoth the damsel to him, “Whither away, O my lord?”; and quoth he, “To my father’s home.” Then the sons of the merchants conjured him to night with them, but he refused and mounting his shemule, rode, without stopping, till he reached his parent’s house, where his mother met him and said to him, “O my son, what hath kept thee away till this hour? By Allah, thou hast troubled myself and thy sire by thine absence from us, and our hearts have been occupied with thee.” Then she came up to him, to kiss him on his mouth, and smelling the fumes of the wine, said, “O my son, how is it that, after prayer and worship thou hast become a wine-bibber and a rebel against Him to whom belong creation and commandment?” But Nur al-Din threw himself down on the bed and lay there. Presently in came his sire and said, “What aileth Nur al-Din to lie thus?”; and his mother answered, “’Twould seem his head acheth for the air of the garden.” So Taj al-Din went up to his son, to ask him of his ailment, and salute him, and smelt the reek of wine.439 Now the merchant loved not wine-drinkers; so he said to Nur al-Din, “Woe to thee, O my son! Is folly come to such a pass with thee, that thou drinkest wine?” When Nur al-Din heard his sire say this, he raised his hand, being yet in his drunkenness, and dealt him a buffet, when by decree of the Decreer the blow lit on his father’s right eye which rolled down on his cheek; whereupon he fell a-swoon and lay therein awhile. They sprinkled rose-water on him till he recovered, when he would have beaten his son; but the mother withheld him, and he swore, by the oath of divorce from his wife that, as soon as morning morrowed, he would assuredly cut off his son’s right hand.440 When she heard her husband’s words, her breast was straitened and she feared for her son and ceased not to soothe and appease his sire, till sleep overcame him. Then she waited till moon-rise, when she went in to her son, whose drunkenness had now departed from him, and said to him, “O Nur al-Din, what is this foul deed thou diddest with thy sire?” He asked, “And what did I with him?”; and answered she, “Thou dealtest him a buffet on the right eye and struckest it out so that it rolled down his cheek; and he hath sworn by the divorce-oath that, as soon as morning shall morrow he will without fail cut off thy right hand.” Nur al-Din repented him of that he had done, whenas repentance profited him naught, and his mother said to him, “O my son, this penitence will not profit thee; nor will aught avail thee but that thou arise forthwith and seek safety in flight: go forth the house privily and take refuge with one of thy friends and there what Allah shall do await, for he changeth case after case and state upon state.” Then she opened a chest and taking out a purse of an hundred dinars said, “O my son, take these dinars and provide thy wants therewith, and when they are at an end, O my son, send and let me know thereof, that I may send thee other than these, and at the same time covey to me news of thyself privily: haply Allah will decree thee relief and thou shalt return to thy home.” And she farewelled him and wept passing sore, nought could be more. Thereupon Nur al-Din took the purse of gold and was about to go forth, when he espied a great purse containing a thousand dinars, which his mother had forgotten by the side of the chest. So he took this also and binding the two purses about his middle,441 set out before dawn threading the streets in the direction of Búlák, where he arrived when day broke and all creatures arose, attesting the unity of Allah the Opener and went forth each of them upon his several business, to win that which Allah had unto him allotted. Reaching Bulak he walked on along the riverbank till he sighted a ship with her gangway out and her four anchors made fast to the land. The folk were going up into her and coming down from her, and Nur al-Din, seeing some sailors there standing, asked them whither they were bound, and they answered, “To Rosetta-city.” Quoth he, “Take me with you;” and quoth they, “Well come, and welcome to thee, to thee, O goodly one!” So he betook himself forthright to the market and buying what he needed of vivers and bedding and covering, returned to the port and went on board the ship, which was ready to sail and tarried with him but a little while before she weighed anchor and fared on, without stopping, till she reached Rosetta,442 where Nur al-Din saw a small boat going to Alexandria. So he embarked in it and traversing the sea-arm of Rosetta fared on till he came to a bridge called Al-Jámí, where he landed and entered Alexandria by the gate called the Gate of the Lote-tree. Allah protected him, so that none of those who stood on guard at the gate saw him, and he walked on till he entered the city. — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

 

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