The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  The dove asked him: ‘What should I do to free myself of worldly attachments and devote myself solely to the worship of my Lord?’ ‘Begin to prepare yourself for the life to come,’ said the hedgehog, ‘and content yourself with eating only enough for your needs.’ ‘How am I to do that?’ asked the dove. ‘I am a bird and I cannot leave this tree which provides me with my food, and even if I could, I don’t know where else to settle.’ The hedgehog said: ‘You can knock down enough fruit from the tree to last you and your mate for a year. Then you can settle in a nest underneath the tree, seeking right guidance. Afterwards, go to the fruit that you have knocked down, take it all away and store it up to eat in times of want. When you have finished the fruits and you find the waiting long, make do with bare sufficiency.’ ‘May God give you a good reward for the purity of your intentions,’ said the dove, ‘in that you have reminded me of the afterlife and given me right guidance.’

  The dove and his mate then worked hard, knocking down dates until there were none left on the tree. The hedgehog was delighted to find this food; he filled his lair with the fruit and stored it up to serve as his provisions, saying to himself that if the dove and his mate needed food, they would ask him for it. ‘They will covet what I have,’ he said, ‘relying on my godly asceticism. Then, when they hear my advice and my admonitions, they will come up close to me and I can catch them and eat them. I shall then have this place to myself and I shall get enough to eat from the fruit that falls.’ After the dove and his mate had knocked down all the dates, they flew down from the tree and found that the hedgehog had removed them all to his lair. ‘Virtuous hedgehog,’ said the dove, ‘you sincere admonisher, we have not found any trace of the dates and we don’t know of any other fruit on which we can live.’ ‘It may be that the wind blew them away,’ said the hedgehog, ‘but to turn away from sustenance to the Provider of sustenance is the essence of salvation. He Who created the opening in the mouth will not leave it without food.’

  On he went, giving these admonitions and making a show of piety dressed in elaborate speech, until the doves approached trustingly and tried to go in through the entrance of his lair. They were sure that he would not deceive them, but he jumped up to guard the entrance, gnashing his teeth. When the dove saw his deception unveiled, he exclaimed: ‘What a difference there is between tonight and yesterday! Don’t you know that the victims of injustice have a Helper? Take care not to practise trickery and deceit lest you suffer the same fate as the two tricksters who schemed against the merchant.’ ‘How was that?’ the hedgehog asked. THE DOVE SAID:

  I heard that there was a wealthy merchant from a city called Sindah. He got together goods which he packed into bales and he left on a trading trip to visit a number of cities. He was followed by two swindlers who loaded up what wealth and goods they had and then accompanied him, pretending to be merchants. When they halted at the first stage, they agreed with each other to use cunning in order to take his goods, but each man planned to deceive and betray the other, saying to himself: ‘Were I to betray my companion, all would be well with me and I could take all this wealth.’ With these evil intentions towards one another, each of them produced food which had been poisoned before offering it to his companion. They both ate the food and both died. They had been sitting talking with the merchant, but after they had left him and been away for some time, he went in search of them to see what had happened, only to find them dead. He then realized that they were scoundrels who had been trying to double-cross him. Their cunning recoiled on their own heads, while the merchant not only escaped but took all that they had with them.

  *

  The king said: ‘Shahrazad, you have drawn my attention to everything that I have been neglecting, so give me more of these examples.’ SHE SAID:

  O king, I have heard that there was a man who had a monkey. This man was a thief who would never pass through the markets of his city without coming away with a great profit. One day he happened to see someone carrying used clothes for sale. He was calling ‘Clothes for sale!’ in the market, but no one would offer him a price, and everyone to whom he showed his wares refused to buy them. When the thief with the monkey saw this man, he had bundled up the clothes and was sitting down to rest. The monkey played around in front of him and, while his attention was distracted as he looked at it, the thief stole his pack. He went off, taking the monkey, and when he got to an isolated spot, he opened up the bundle and took out the used clothes. He then put them in an expensive pack and took them to another market, where he offered the pack and its contents for sale on condition that it was not to be opened, tempting buyers by the lowness of the price he was asking. A man who saw the pack was struck by how expensive it looked and bought it on the thief ’s terms. He took it off home, thinking that he had got a bargain. ‘What is this?’ his wife asked when she saw it. ‘It is something valuable that I have bought for less than its proper price in order to sell it again and make a profit.’ ‘You’ve been cheated,’ she said. ‘Is this stuff being sold cheaply for any reason except that it has been stolen? Don’t you know that whoever buys something without examining it puts himself in the wrong, and he is like the weaver?’ ‘What is the story of the weaver?’ her husband asked, AND HIS WIFE REPLIED:

  I have heard that in a certain village there was a weaver who could only make a livelihood by working very hard indeed. It happened that a rich man in the neighbourhood gave a feast to which he invited everybody. The weaver went along and saw magnificently dressed people receiving fine foods and being treated with respect by the host because of their splendid clothes. He said to himself: ‘Were I to change my trade for one that would be of less trouble, more prestigious and more rewarding, I could collect a lot of money and buy clothes like these. I would then become important; people would respect me and I would be like these others.’ He looked at one of the tumblers who was at the banquet. This man got up and climbed on to a very high wall from which he threw himself down to the ground, after which he got up on his feet again. The weaver said to himself: ‘I must do the same thing; it is not beyond my powers.’ So he got up on the wall and threw himself down, but when he reached the ground, he broke his neck and died on the spot.

  ‘I tell you this,’ the woman went on, ‘so that you may make your living from what you are familiar with and know, lest you become greedy and become attracted to what is no business of yours.’ Her husband replied: ‘Not every learned man is saved by his learning, nor is every fool destroyed by his folly. I have seen that snake charmers who are experienced and knowledgeable about snakes may be bitten by one and die, whereas someone who knows nothing about them and has no knowledge of how they behave may get the better of them.’ He refused to listen to his wife, bought the goods and fell into the habit of buying cheaply from thieves until he fell under suspicion and perished.

  In those days, there was a sparrow who used to go every day to one of the kings of the birds. He stayed with him morning and evening, as the first to visit and the last to leave. As it happened, a group of birds gathered on a high mountain. They said to one another: ‘There are a lot of us and there are many disagreements between us. We must have a king who can look after our affairs, so that we can all be united and our differences may be removed.’ The sparrow, who happened to pass by, advised them to choose the peacock as their king, this being the sovereign whom he was in the habit of visiting. The birds did this and made the peacock their ruler. He treated them well and made the sparrow his secretary and vizier. At times, the sparrow would interrupt his attendance on the peacock to oversee affairs, and one day, when he was absent, the peacock became very concerned. While he was in this state, the sparrow came in and the peacock asked him: ‘What delayed you, who are the closest of my followers to me and the dearest of them?’ ‘I saw something suspicious which frightened me,’ answered the sparrow. When the peacock asked him what this was, the sparrow explained: ‘I saw a man with a net who spread it out by my nest, fastening it with pegs and scattering grain in
the middle of it. I sat to watch what he was going to do and while I was there, fate brought a crane and his mate who fell into the middle of the net. They began to cry out and the hunter got up and caught them. This disturbed me; it is why I did not come to you, king of the age, and I shall not go on living in this nest for fear of the net.’ ‘Don’t leave this place,’ said the peacock, ‘for caution will not help you against fate.’

  The sparrow did what he was told, saying: ‘I shall be patient and not leave, out of obedience to the king.’ He went on acting cautiously, and he brought food to the peacock, who would eat his fill and wash down the food with a drink of water, after which the sparrow would fly off. One day, while he was watching, he saw two other sparrows fighting on the ground. ‘How is it,’ he said to himself, ‘that I am the king’s vizier and here are two sparrows fighting in my presence before my eyes? By God, I shall act as a peacemaker between them.’ He went to them in order to do that, but the hunter tossed up the net over the three of them and the sparrow fell into the middle of it. The hunter came up, took him and handed him to his companion, saying: ‘Keep a good hold of this one, for it is plump and I have never seen a finer sparrow.’ The sparrow said to himself: ‘I have fallen into the trap that I feared. It was the peacock who reassured me, but caution does not help against the blows of fate. The prudent man cannot escape his destiny. How well has the poet put it:

  What is not to be cannot be brought about by any plan,

  While that which is to be will be.

  What is to happen happens at its destined time,

  But foolish men delude themselves.’

  The king said: ‘Shahrazad, tell me more of these stories.’ ‘Tomorrow night,’ she replied, ‘if the king – may God ennoble him – spares me.’

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the hundred and fifty-third night, SHE SAID:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that in the old days, in the caliphate of Harun al-Rashid, there was a merchant who had a son named Abu’l-Hasan ‘Ali ibn Tahir. The father was extremely rich and prosperous, while the conduct of his handsome son won universal approval. He was allowed to enter the caliph’s palace without asking permission and he was a favourite with all the caliph’s concubines and slave girls. He used to drink with the caliph, recite poetry to him and tell him amusing stories. For all that, he continued to buy and sell in the traders’ market.

  In his shop there used to sit a Persian princeling whose name was ‘Ali ibn Bakkar. This young man had a fine figure and a graceful appearance; he was perfectly formed, with rosy cheeks and joining eyebrows, and he was an agreeable talker, a smiling man with a fondness for cheerful relaxation. It happened that Abu’l-Hasan and ‘Ali were sitting talking and laughing together when up came ten slave girls like moons, each beautiful and symmetrically formed. In between them was a girl riding on a mule with a brocaded saddle and stirrups of gold. She was wearing a delicate veil and round her waist was a girdle of silk embellished with gold. She was as the poet has described:

  Her skin was like silk and her voice gentle;

  She spoke neither too little nor too much.

  To her eyes God said: ‘Be,’ and they were,

  And on men’s intellects they acted as wine.

  O love for her, increase my passion every night!

  Lovers’ consolation, it is the Day of Resurrection before you come.

  When this group reached Abu’l-Hasan’s shop, the girl dismounted from her mule and, after taking her seat in the shop, she greeted Abu’l-Hasan and he greeted her. When ‘Ali ibn Bakkar saw her, she stole away his senses. He wanted to get up but she said: ‘Sit where you are. We have come to you and it is not right for you to have to go.’ ‘By God, my lady,’ he said, ‘I am fleeing from what I see. The tongue of rapture says:

  She is the sun; her place is in the sky,

  So supply fair consolation to your heart.

  You can never climb to her and, as for her,

  She cannot sink to you.’

  When the girl heard this, she smiled and asked Abu’l-Hasan: ‘What is this young man’s name and where does he come from?’ ‘He is a stranger,’ said Abu’l-Hasan, and when she asked from what land he came, he said: ‘He is a Persian prince and his name is ‘Ali ibn Bakkar. It is a duty to honour strangers.’ ‘When my maid comes to you,’ said the girl, ‘she is to bring him to me.’ Abu’l-Hasan agreed to this and the girl then got up and went away.

  So much for her, but as for ‘Ali ibn Bakkar, he did not know what to say. Then, some time later, the maid came to Abu’l-Hasan and said: ‘My mistress is asking for you and your companion,’ at which Abu’l-Hasan got up and took ‘Ali ibn Bakkar with him. The two of them went to Harun al-Rashid’s palace and the maid took them to a room where she invited them to sit down. They talked together for a time and then tables of food were set out before them. They ate and washed their hands and when wine was brought they drank deeply. The maid then told them to get up, and when they had done this, she took them to another room, set with four pillars, strewn with all kinds of furnishings and embellished with every sort of ornament, like one of the chambers of Paradise, where they were astonished by the rare treasures that they saw. While they were admiring these wonders, in came ten slave girls like moons, swaying proudly, dazzling the eyes and bewildering thought. They lined up like houris of Paradise and, after a pause, another ten came forward and greeted the two men. In their hands they were carrying lutes and other musical instruments and, after sitting down and tuning their strings, they stood in front of the visitors, playing on their lutes, singing and reciting poetry, each one of them embodying a temptation for God’s servants. While this was happening, another ten of the same kind arrived, swelling-breasted, all of an age, with black eyes, rosy cheeks, joining eyebrows and languid glances – a temptation for God’s servants and a delight for the onlookers. The coloured silks and ornaments that they wore were enough to bewilder the mind. When they had taken their places by the door, another ten even lovelier girls, wearing clothes too splendid to be described, entered and they too stood by the door, through which came twenty more with, in the middle of them, the girl herself, Shams al-Nahar, shining like the moon among the stars. She was swaying with haughty coquetry, with her long hair worn like a sash, dressed in a blue robe, with a veil of silk embroidered with gold and jewels, while round her waist was a girdle set with precious stones of all kinds. She advanced, swaying proudly, before taking her seat on a couch.

  When ‘Ali ibn Bakkar saw her, he recited these lines:

  It is she who was the first cause of my illness,

  Of my protracted passion and the length of my infatuation.

  In her presence I see my soul melt with desire,

  While all my bones are worn away.

  When he had finished, he said to Abu’l-Hasan: ‘It would have been kind had you told me about this before we came in here, so that I might have prepared myself and summoned up endurance to face it.’ He then wept, moaned and complained, and Abu’l-Hasan said to him: ‘Brother, I only meant to do you good but I was afraid that if I told you the truth, your passion would be such as to keep you away and prevent you from meeting the girl. Be happy and of good heart, for she looks on you with favour and wants to meet you.’ ‘What is her name?’ asked ‘Ali. ‘Shams al-Nahar,’ answered Abu’l-Hasan. ‘She is one of the concubines of Harun al-Rashid, and this is the caliph’s palace.’

  Shams al-Nahar sat looking at the handsome ‘Ali, while he too sat gazing at her beauty, and each was filled with love for the other. On her instructions, each of the slave girls sat in her place on a couch opposite a window. She told them to sing, at which one of them took a lute and recited:

  Take back the message again and bring a clear reply:

  I stand here, handsome prince, complaining of my lot.

  Master, dear heart, my precious life,

  Give me a kiss or at least lend it to me.

  May you
not perish; I shall give it back

  Exactly in the form in which it was.

  If you want more, be pleased to take it now,

  And you who clothe me in emaciation,

  May you enjoy the robe of health.

  ‘Ali was delighted and said to the girl: ‘Sing me more lines like these.’ So she plucked the strings and recited:

  My love, because you are so often absent,

  You teach my eyes how long they can shed tears.

  You are their pleasure and their wish,

  My final goal, the object of my worship;

  Mourn, then, for one whose eyes drown in the tears

  Of a distracted lover in his grief.

  When the girl had finished, Shams al-Nahar told another one to sing something, and so, striking up a tune, she began:

  The glance of the beloved and not wine has made me drunk;

  She sways and drives sleep from my eyes.

  It is her locks of hair, not wine, that steal away my wits;

  It is her qualities, not wine, that have uplifted me.

  My resolution has been twisted by her curls;

  While what is hidden by her gown destroys my mind.