The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights

by vol 02 (tr Malcolm C

  The frightened prince climbed down and she then kissed his hands and feet and enticed him to make love to her. He agreed to this and when he had done what she wanted, she told him to give her the signet ring that was on his hand. He handed it over and she wrapped it in a silk kerchief that she had with her, adding it to more than eighty other rings that were already there. ‘What do you do with these rings?’ the prince asked her, and she told him: ‘This ‘ifrit snatched me from my father’s palace and locked me in this chest, whose key he keeps with him. He carries the chest on his head with me inside it wherever he goes, as he is so jealous that he can scarcely bear to be away from me for a single hour, and he keeps me from what I long to do. When I realized this, I swore that I would never refuse anyone who wanted to lie with me, and the number of rings that I have equals the number of my lovers, for I take the signet ring of each man who makes love to me and put it in this kerchief. Now, go on your way so that I may look for someone else, as the ‘ifrit will not wake up just yet.’

  The prince, who could not believe what had happened, went back to his father’s palace. His father knew nothing of how the reckless girl, with no thought for the consequences, had seduced his son, and when he heard that the signet ring was missing, he ordered his son to be put to death. He then left his throne room and entered his palace. His viziers persuaded him to spare the prince’s life, and later the king summoned them one night; when they were all present, he rose to greet them and thanked them for what they had done to make him change his mind. They were also thanked by the prince, who complimented them on how they had got his father to spare him, promising that, God willing, he would reward them most generously. He then told them how it was that he had come to lose the ring, after which they wished him a long life and high fame before leaving.

  ‘Look then, O king,’ the vizier went on, ‘at the wiles of women and what they do to men.’ The king again withdrew his decision to have his son executed, and the next morning, while he was seated on his throne, his son entered, holding the hand of his mentor, Sindbad. He made a most eloquent speech, praising his father, the viziers and state officials, thanking them and eulogizing them. The men of learning, emirs, soldiers and nobles were present in the throne room and all were filled with admiration for his eloquence, rhetorical skill and masterly delivery. His father was overjoyed and, having called him forward, he kissed him between the eyes before summoning Sindbad and asking him why his son had stayed silent for seven days. ‘Master,’ Sindbad answered, ‘his safety lay in his saying nothing. During those seven days I feared for his life, as I have known about this affair since the day that he was born, and all this was shown in his horoscope. But now the evil has passed thanks to your majesty’s good fortune.’ This delighted the king, who then asked his viziers: ‘If I had had my son put to death, would the reponsibility for the wrong have rested with me or with the slave girl or with Sindbad, his tutor?’ No one there was prepared to answer, and so Sindbad said to the prince: ‘It is for you to reply to this, my son.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Sindbad told the prince to reply, the prince said: ‘I have heard that a certain merchant was entertaining guests in his house and he sent out his slave girl to buy a jug of milk in the market. She got the jug and was on her way home when a kite flew overhead with a snake in its talons, which it was squeezing, and, unbeknown to the girl, a drop of the snake’s venom fell into the jug. When she got back, her master took the milk from her and he and his guests drank it up, but no sooner had it settled in their stomachs than they all died. Can you see, your majesty, who was at fault in this?’ One of those who were present suggested that everyone who drank was responsible, while another pointed to the girl who had left the jug uncovered. As for Sindbad, he asked the prince what he thought himself, to which he replied: ‘I say that these people are wrong. Neither the girl nor the company were at fault. Their life spans and what God had allotted to them by way of provision had come to an end, and because of that it was fated that they should die.’ This astonished all who were there, and they raised their voices, invoking blessings on the prince and saying: ‘Master, there was never so good an answer as this, and you are now the most learned of the people of your age.’ ‘No,’ said the prince, ‘I am not learned. The blind old man, the three-year-old child and the five-year-old child knew more than I do.’ ‘Tell us the story of these three,’ they asked, and THE PRINCE SAID:

  I have heard that there was once a wealthy merchant who made frequent journeys to foreign parts. When he was proposing to go on one of his trips, he asked people who came from the place that he wanted to visit which trade goods would produce the best profit. ‘Sandalwood,’ they told him, ‘for it fetches a high price.’ So that was what he bought, using up all his capital in the process, and he then set off on his journey. He reached his destination at the end of the day and there he came across an old woman who was driving a flock of sheep. When she saw him, she asked him who he was and he told her that he was a foreign merchant. ‘Be on your guard against the people here,’ she warned him, ‘for they are a bunch of scheming thieves who swindle foreigners to get the better of them and then gobble up all that they have. This is my advice to you.’ Having said this, she left him.

  The next morning, one of the townsfolk met him, greeted him and asked where he had come from, and when the merchant told him, the man went on to ask: ‘What goods have you brought with you?’ ‘Sandalwood,’ the merchant told him, ‘for I have heard that it fetches a good price with your people.’ ‘Whoever gave you that advice was wrong,’ the man said, and added: ‘We use nothing but sandalwood for heating our cooking pots, and its price here is exactly the same as that of firewood.’ When he heard this the merchant was sad and regretful, and he didn’t know whether or not to believe what he had been told. He lodged in one of the khans of the city and lit a fire of sandalwood under his cooking pot. On seeing this, the man who had accosted him earlier asked if he would sell him the wood at whatever price he wanted for each measure. The merchant agreed and the man moved all the wood to his own house, in return for which the merchant wanted gold.

  In the morning, when he walked into the city, a blue-eyed man, one of whose eyes was missing, caught hold of him and said: ‘It was you who destroyed my eye and I shall never let go of you.’ The merchant denied it, insisting that that could never have happened, but the people gathered around and, although they asked the one-eyed man to wait until the next day for his compensation, the merchant had to find a guarantor for the payment before they would let him go. As he went off, he discovered that the strap of his sandal had been broken when the one-eyed man had pulled him. He stopped at a shoemaker’s shop, gave him the sandal and asked him to repair it, promising to pay him what he wanted. Next on his way he came across a party of gamblers; he sat down with them to relieve his cares and worries and, when they invited him, he joined in their game. They got the better of him and then gave him the choice either of drinking up the sea or of handing over all his money. The merchant asked them to wait until the next day and he then went off, sunk in gloom because of what he had done and not knowing how things would turn out.

  As he sat careworn and worried, the old shepherdess passed by and looked at him. ‘It seems that the city folk have got the better of you,’ she said, ‘for I can see that something has happened to distress you.’ He then told her the whole story of his experiences from beginning to end. ‘As for the man who told you about the sandalwood,’ she said, ‘the price of sandalwood here is ten dinars a ratl, but I can suggest a way that may free you from your difficulties. You must go to such-and-such a gate, where you will find an old blind man seated. He is wise, very knowledgeable and experienced; everybody goes to him to ask about what they want and he tells them what will be to their advantage. He knows about tricks, magic and swindles and, as he is a sha
rp fellow, all the rogues gather round him each night. Go to him but keep yourself hidden from your opponents, so that you can listen to what they say without them seeing you. He will tell them which schemes will succeed and which will fail, and you may hear something that will allow you to free yourself from your creditors.’

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the six hundred and fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the old woman told the merchant to go to the expert around whom the townsfolk gathered, but to keep under cover in the hope of hearing what would free him from his creditors. THE PRINCE WENT ON:

  When the merchant left her, he followed her directions, keeping under cover, and when he saw the shaikh he sat down near him. It was not long before the man’s followers arrived to bring their problems to him, and when they came they greeted him and exchanged salutations with one another before sitting in a circle around him. Among them the merchant recognized his four creditors. When they had eaten the food that the shaikh produced for them, each began to give an account of what he had done that day. The man who had bought the sandalwood told of how he had bought it at less than its proper price, the bargain being that he should return a full measure of whatever the vendor wanted. The shaikh told him: ‘Your man got the better of you,’ and when he asked how that could be, the shaikh said: ‘If he wants a full measure of gold or silver, are you going to give it to him?’ ‘Yes,’ the man replied, ‘and I shall still be in profit.’ ‘And if he says: “I shall take a measure full of fleas, half of them male and half female,” what will you do?’ the shaikh asked, and the man had to acknowledge defeat. Next came the one-eyed man, who told him: ‘I saw a blue-eyed stranger today and I pretended to quarrel with him, hanging on to him and shouting out that he had knocked out my eye. I didn’t let him go until others who were there guaranteed that he would come back and compensate me for it.’ ‘If he wants to get the better of you, he can do it,’ the shaikh said and, when the man asked him how, he explained: ‘He would tell you: “Pluck out your eye and I will pluck out mine. Then we can weigh them, and if mine is equal to yours then what you say is true.” He would have to pay you compensation, but you would be blind while he would be able to see with his remaining eye.’ The one-eyed man realized that his victim could in fact get the better of him in this way.

  The next to come was the shoemaker, who told the shaikh: ‘I came across a man today who gave me his sandal to repair and when I asked about payment he said that he would give me enough to satisfy me after I had done the repair; but I am not going to be satisfied with anything less than all his money.’ ‘But if he wants to take his sandal and not give you anything, he can do it,’ the shaikh pointed out. The man asked how that could be, and the shaikh said: ‘He can say to you: “The sultan’s enemies have been routed and his adversaries weakened, while the numbers of his children and his helpers have increased. Are you content or not?” If you say that you are, he can take his sandal and go, and if you say that you are not, he will take it and strike you on the face and the back of the neck.’ The man had to acknowledge that he was beaten. Then came the gambler, who said: ‘I met a man and won a bet with him. Then I told him that if he drank up the sea I would hand over all my wealth to him, but if he did not, then he was to give me all his.’ ‘If he wanted,’ the shaikh said, ‘he could get the better of you,’ and when the man asked how, the shaikh explained: ‘He could tell you to hold the mouth of the sea for him and pour it out for him to drink. As you couldn’t do that, this would allow him to defeat you.’

  The merchant, who had been listening to all that, realized what he had to say in order to get the better of his opponents, and when they left the shaikh the merchant went back to his lodgings. The next morning the gambler who had challenged him to drink the sea arrived and the merchant said: ‘Pass me the mouth of the sea and I shall drink it.’ As the man could not do this, the merchant won and the other had to ransom himself for a hundred dinars. When he had left, the shoemaker arrived and asked for what would satisfy him. The merchant said: ‘The sultan has defeated his enemies and destroyed his opponents, while the numbers of his children have increased. Are you satisfied or not?’ ‘Yes, I am satisfied,’ the shoemaker said, at which the merchant took his sandal and went off without paying anything. Then the one-eyed man came to ask for compensation for his eye. The merchant said: ‘Pluck out your eye and I shall pluck out mine. Then we can weigh them both and if they are equal, this will show that you are telling the truth and you can then be recompensed.’ ‘Wait a while,’ said the man, and he then made his peace with the merchant by paying him a hundred dinars. When he had gone he was succeeded by the man who had bought the sandalwood. ‘Take the price for your wood,’ he told the merchant. ‘What are you going to give me?’ the merchant asked, and the man replied: ‘We agreed on one measure of wood for one of something else, so, if you want, you can have gold or silver.’ The merchant told him: ‘I shall take my measure in fleas, half male and half female,’ and when the man admitted that he could not produce that, he, as the defeated party, had to hand back the sandalwood and pay a hundred dinars by way of indemnity. The merchant then sold the wood at his own price, took the money and returned home.

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the six hundred and fifth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the merchant had sold his sandalwood and received the price, he left the city and went home. THE PRINCE THEN WENT ON:

  As for the three-year-old child, there was once a licentious man with a passion for women who heard of a beautiful woman living in another city. He went there, taking a gift with him, and then wrote her a note describing the longing and passion from which he was suffering and how his love had caused him to abandon his own city and come to her. She gave him permission to visit her and, when he got to her house and went in, she rose to meet him and received him with honour and respect, kissing his hands and providing him with the best possible guest provision of food and drink. She had a young three-year-old child whom she left as she busied herself with doing the cooking, but when her visitor suggested that they should sleep together, she objected that the boy was sitting there watching. ‘He is a little child who doesn’t understand and cannot even speak,’ said the man. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you knew how intelligent he is,’ she told him. The boy then realized that the rice his mother was preparing was cooked, and he cried loudly. When his mother asked him why, he said: ‘Spoon me out some rice and put some butter in it.’ She did this and he ate, but he then burst into tears again and she asked: ‘What are you crying for, my son?’ ‘Mother,’ he said, ‘pour me some sugar on top of it.’ ‘You are an unlucky child!’ the man exclaimed angrily, but the child replied: ‘It is you who are the unlucky one, you who put yourself to the trouble of travelling from place to place in order to fornicate. I cried because there was something in my eye, which the tears then removed, and then I ate rice, butter and sugar until I had had enough. So which of us is unlucky?’ The man was ashamed to hear what the child had to say and, remembering the lessons of religion, he mended his ways on the spot and went back home, leaving the woman untouched, and remained in a state of penitence for the rest of his life.

  THE PRINCE CONTINUED:

  As for the five-year-old, I have heard, O king, that four merchants shared a fund of a thousand dinars which were all put together in a single purse. They took this off with them to buy goods and on their way they came across a beautiful garden, which they entered, leaving the purse with the woman who was employed to look after it. After looking around the garden, they ate, drank and relaxed, and then one of them said: ‘I have some perfume with me, so let us wash our heads in this stream and then perfume ourselves.’ ‘We would need a comb,’ said another, while a third suggested: ‘Let’s ask the woman in charge, as she may have one.’ One of them got up and went to he
r, but then told her to give him the purse. ‘Not until you are all here or your companions tell me to hand it over to you,’ she replied. The others were in a place where she could see and hear them and so, when the man said: ‘She won’t give me anything,’ they called to her: ‘Give it to him.’ On hearing this, she handed over the purse and the man took it and ran off. His companions, finding that he was slow to come back to them, went to the woman and asked her why she had not given him the comb, to which she replied: ‘What he asked me for was the purse, and I only gave him that with your permission. Then he went away.’ When they heard what she had to say, they struck their faces and laid hold of her, insisting that they had only allowed her to give him the comb. ‘He never said anything to me about a comb,’ she told them, but they took her before the qadi and told him the whole story. He then made her responsible for the return of the purse, and some of her creditors were made to stand surety for her.

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the six hundred and sixth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the qadi made the woman responsible for the return of the purse, and some of her creditors were made to stand surety for her. THE PRINCE WENT ON: