Arabian Nights

by Richard Burton

  Then the brothers disguised themselves and returned secretly to the palace, where they spent the rest of the night. At dawn they seated themselves at the window overlooking the garden, and soon the queen and the slaves came out as before and headed for the fountain. There they stripped, ten men to ten women, and the king’s wife cried out, “Where are you, oh Saeed?”

  The hideous blackamoor dropped from the tree right away, and rushing into her arms without delay, he exclaimed, “I am Sa’ad al-Din Saood, the auspicious one!”

  The lady laughed heartily, and they all began to satisfy their lust and continued to do so for a couple of hours. Then the white slaves rose from the maidens, and the blackamoor left the queen, and they went into the basin. After bathing themselves, they donned their robes and departed as they had done before.

  When King Shahryar saw the perfidious behavior of his wife and concubines, he became distraught and cried out, “Only in utter solitude can man be safe from what goes on in this vile world! By Allah, life is nothing but one great wrong! Listen to what I propose, brother, and don’t stop me.”

  “I won’t,” Shah Zaman responded.

  So the king continued, “Let us get up just as we are and depart right away. There are other things more important than our kingdoms. Let us wander over Allah’s earth, worshiping the Almighty, until we find someone who has suffered the same misfortune. And if it should turn out that we don’t find anyone, then death will be more welcome to us than life.”

  So the two brothers left through a second secret door to the palace, and they journeyed day and night until they came to a large tree in the middle of a meadow right near a spring of fresh water not far from the seashore. Both drank from the spring and sat down to rest. After an hour had passed, they suddenly heard a mighty roar as though the heavens were falling upon the earth. The sea broke with tidal waves, and a towering black pillar arose from it. Indeed, the pillar of smoke grew and grew until it almost touched the sky. Then it began heading toward the meadow, and the two brothers became very frightened and climbed to the top of the tree, from where they hoped to see what the matter was.

  To their amazement, the smoke turned into a jinnee, huge, broad-chested, and burly. His brow was wide, his skin black, and on his head was a crystal chest. He strode to the shore, wading through deep water, and came to the tree in which the two kings were hiding, and sat down beneath it. He then set the chest on its bottom and pulled from it a casket with seven padlocks of steel, which he unlocked with seven keys of steel hanging beside his thigh. Suddenly a young lady appeared from the casket, white-skinned and pleasant, fine and thin, and bright as the full moon or the glistening sun. Taking her by the hand, the jinnee seated her under the tree by his side and gazed at her.

  “Oh choicest love of this heart of mine!” he began. “Oh lady of noblest line, whom I snatched away on your wedding night and whom none has loved or enjoyed except myself. Oh, my sweetheart, I must sleep a little while.”

  He then laid his head upon the lady’s thighs, and stretching out his legs, which extended down to the sea, he fell asleep and snored like thunder. Soon the lady raised her head and noticed the two kings perched near the top of the tree. Then she softly lifted the jinnee’s head off her lap and placed it upon the ground. Afterwards she stood up and signaled to the kings, “Come down, you two. You have nothing to fear from this ifrit.”

  They were terribly scared when they realized that she had seen them and answered her in whispers, “By Allah and by your modesty, oh lady, excuse us from coming down!”

  “Allah upon you both,” she replied, “I want you to come down right away, and if you don’t come, I shall wake this jinnee, who will attack you, and you’ll die the worst death imaginable!” And she continued making signs to them to come.

  So, being afraid, they came down to her, and she rose before them and said, “I want you to mount me and show me how nicely you can sit on my saddle, or else I’ll set this ifrit upon you, and he’ll slay you in the wink of an eye!”

  “Oh lady,” they said to her, “we beseech you, by Allah, don’t force us to do this. We’ve given up such things and are in extreme dread of your husband!”

  “No more talk. This is the way it must be,” she said and swore to them by Him who raised the skies on high without prop or pillar that they would be slain and cast into the sea if they did not perform her will. Consequently, out of fear, King Shahryar said to King Shah Zaman, “Brother, do what she wants you to do.”

  But Zaman responded, “I won’t do anything until you do it first.”

  And they began quarreling about who was to mount her.

  “Why are you two quarreling?” she intervened. “If you do not come forward like men and do the deed I ask you to perform, I’ll wake the jinnee!”

  Given their fear of the jinnee, they finally did what she asked them to do, one after the other, and after they had dismounted, she said, “Well done!” Next, she took a purse from her pocket and drew out a knotted strand of five hundred and seventy rings and asked, “Do you know what these are?”

  “No,” they answered.

  “These are the signets of five hundred and seventy men,” she said, “who have futtered me on the horns of this filthy, stupid ifrit. So, brothers, I also want your royal rings.”

  After they had taken off their rings and given them to her, she said, “It’s true that this jinnee carried me off on my wedding night, put me into a casket, and placed the casket in a chest. After he attached seven strong padlocks to it, he deposited it at the bottom of the deep sea and guarded me so that I would remain chaste and honest, and so that none but himself could have any contact with me. But I have lain under as many men as I’ve desired, and this wretched jinnee doesn’t realize that destiny cannot be averted or hindered by anything and that whatever a woman wants, she will get, no matter how much a man might try to prevent it.”

  Upon hearing her story, the brothers were left speechless and watched her as she went back to the ifrit, put his head on her lap, and told them softly, “Now get on your way, and put the sight of this malice way behind you!”

  So they moved on and said to each other, “May Allah help us and save us from women’s malice and cunning! It seems nothing can surpass their power!”

  “Just think,” said King Shahryar, “how this marvelous lady has managed to deceive a jinnee, who is much more powerful than we are! Indeed, his misfortune is much greater than ours, so it is time to return to our kingdoms. But I propose that we both never stay married long enough for women to betray us and that we take the proper action to put them in their place!”

  Shah Zaman agreed, and they rode back to King Shahryar’s encampment, which they reached on the morning of the third day, and after gathering together his viziers, emirs, chamberlains, and high officials, Shahryar gave a robe of honor to his viceroy and issued orders for an immediate return to the city. As soon as he took his seat upon his throne, he sent for his chief minister and declared, “I command you to take my wife and execute her, for she has broken her marriage vows.”

  So, the minister brought her to the place of execution and carried out the king’s orders. Then King Shahryar took his sword in hand and went to the seraglio, where he slew all the concubines and their mamelukes. He also swore a binding oath that whenever he married, he would take his new wife’s maidenhead at night and slay her the next morning to make sure of his honor, for he was convinced that there never was or could be one chaste woman upon the face of this earth.

  Soon after Shahryar took this oath, his brother, Shah Zaman, asked permission to return home, and he was provided an escort that accompanied him until he reached his own country. Meanwhile Shahryar commanded his vizier to bring him a bride for that night so that he might enjoy her. Accordingly, the vizier produced a most beautiful girl, the daughter of one of the emirs, and the king broke her maidenhead in the evening, and when morning arrived, he commanded his minister to strike off her head. And the vizier did as he was ordered for f
ear of the sultan. During the next three years the king continued to act accordingly: he married a maiden every night and had her killed the next morning, until his people raised a great outcry against him. Indeed, they cursed him and prayed to Allah that he be utterly destroyed and dethroned. Women began protesting, mothers wept, and parents fled with their daughters until there was not one virgin left in the city.

  Nevertheless, the king ordered his chief vizier, the same man who was charged with carrying out the executions, to bring him a virgin as was his wont. When the minister went forth, however, and searched all over, he returned home in sorrow, fearing for his life because the king would be displeased that there were no more virgins left in the city. Now, he had two daughters, Scheherazade and Dunazade. The older one, Scheherazade, had read the books, annals, and legends of former kings, and the stories, lessons, and adventures of famous men. Indeed, it was said that she had collected a thousand history books about ancient peoples and rulers. She had perused the works of the poets and knew them by heart. She had studied philosophy and the sciences, arts, and practical things. And she was pleasant and polite, wise and witty, well read and well bred. Consequently, on that particular day, she said to her father, “Why are you so downcast? You seem to be troubled by something. Remember the words of the poet:

  “Tell whoever has sorrow

  Grief shall never last.

  Just as joy has no tomorrow,

  Woe is bound not to last.”

  When the vizier heard these words from his daughter, he told her from first to last about everything that had happened between him and the king. Thereupon, she said, “By Allah, oh my father, how long shall this slaughter of women last? Shall I tell you what I’m thinking about that would stop all this destruction?”

  “Tell me, my daughter,” he said.

  “I would like you to give me in marriage to King Shahryar. If I should live, I’d become the ransom for the virgin daughters of Moslems and rescue them from his hands and yours.”

  “Oh Allah!” he cried in his fury. “Have you lost your mind? I won’t let you expose yourself to such danger. How can you be so unwise and foolish? I want you to know that unless you have experience in worldly matters, you’ll be prey to misfortune!”

  “I must do this,” she responded. “Come what may!”

  Again the vizier became enraged and scolded and reproached her. “In truth, I fear that the same thing that happened to the ox and the donkey will happen to you.”

  “And just what did happen to them, Father?” she asked.

  Whereupon the vizier began.

  The Tale of the Ox and the Donkey

  There was once a merchant who owned a great deal of money and men, and who had a large number of cattle and camels. He also had a wife and family and dwelt in the country, since he knew a great deal about farming and agriculture. Now Allah Almighty had endowed him with the ability to understand the language of birds and beasts of every kind. However, it was decreed that if he were to divulge the gift to anyone, he would be punished by death. So, out of fear, he kept his unusual gift a secret.

  In his barn he had an ox and donkey, each tethered in his own stall next to one another. One day, when the merchant was sitting nearby with his servants and children playing around him, he heard the ox say to the ass, “Greetings, friend. I hope that you continue to enjoy your rest and good care. Everything under you is swept neatly and watered down. Men wait on you and feed you sifted barley, and give you pure spring water to drink. On the other hand, I (unhappy creature!) am led forth in the middle of the night when they set the plow and something called a yoke on my neck. I’m exhausted from cleaving the earth from dawn till dusk. I’m forced to do more than I can and to bear all kinds of mistreatment every night. And at the end of my work they take me back with my sides torn, my neck flayed, my legs aching, and my eyelids sore with tears. Then they shut me up in the barn and throw me beans and hay mixed with dirt and chaff. And I lie in dung and filth, and there is nothing but a foul stench throughout the night. But you are always in a clean place and are always able to relax, except when the master has some business in town, and that’s very seldom. Then he just mounts you and rides to the town and returns right away. This is the way things are: I toil and have no rest, while you relax and have leisure time. You sleep while I am sleepless. I starve while you have all you want to eat.”

  When the ox stopped speaking, the donkey turned toward him and said, “Oh you lost soul! Whoever dubbed you bull-head did not lie, for you are denser than the simplest of simpletons! With all your zeal you foolishly toil for the master, and wear yourself out and kill yourself for the comfort of someone else. At the call of dawn you set out to work and don’t return until sundown, and throughout the livelong day you endure all kinds of hardships such as beatings and cursing. Now listen to me, carefully. When you go into the fields and they lay that thing called the yoke on your neck, lie down and don’t get up again, even though they hit you with the switch. And if you do have to rise, lie down a second time. And when they bring you home and offer you beans, fall backward and only sniff your food. Don’t taste it. Withdraw and content yourself only with the hay and chaff. Pretend you are sick, and continue to do this for two or three days. This way you’ll be able to gain some rest from all your hard work.”

  When the ox heard these words, he knew that the donkey was his friend and thanked him. “This is good advice,” he said, and prayed that the ass would be blessed with a fine reward.

  The next day, the driver took the ox, set the plow on his neck, and made him work as usual. But the ox took the donkey’s advice and shirked the plowing. Consequently, the plowman drubbed him until the ox broke the yoke and made off. But the man caught up to him and tanned him until he thought he would die. Nevertheless, he did nothing but stand still and drop down until evening came. Then the plowman led him home and put him into his stall, but the ox drew back from his manger and neither stamped, nor butted, nor bellowed as he was accustomed to do. Such strange behavior puzzled the plowman. Then he brought the ox beans and husks, but the animal sniffed at them and lay down as far from them as he could and spent the whole night fasting. Next morning the plowman came and saw the manger full of beans, the hay untasted, and the ox lying on his back in a most sorry plight with his legs outstretched and a swollen belly. Of course, he was very worried about him and said to himself, “By Allah, he has certainly become sick, and this is why he wouldn’t plow yesterday.” Then he went to the merchant and reported, “Master, the ox is sick. He refused his fodder last night, and he hasn’t tasted a scrap of it this morning.”

  Now the merchant understood what all this meant, because he had overheard the talk between the ox and the ass. So he said, “Take that rascal donkey, and set the yoke on his neck. Tie him to the plow and make him do the ox’s work.”

  Accordingly, the plowman took the ass and made him do the ox’s work the entire day long. And when the donkey let up out of weakness, the driver made him feel his stick until the animal’s ribs were sore and his sides were sunken and his neck flayed by the yoke. When the ass returned home in the evening, he could hardly drag his limbs along. Meanwhile, the ox had spent the day lying at full length and had eaten his fodder with an excellent appetite. He continually heaped blessings on the donkey for his good advice, not knowing how the donkey had suffered and that it was on his account. So, when night set in and the donkey returned to the barn, the ox rose up before him in his honor and said, “May good tidings warm your heart, my friend! Because of you I have rested the entire day, and I have eaten my food in peace and quiet.”

  But the ass did not reply, because his heart was burning with rage, and he was exhausted from the beating he had gotten. Indeed, he regretted that he had given the ox such good advice and said to himself, “This is the result of your folly in giving good counsel. I was living in joy and happiness until I mixed into somebody else’s business. So now I must think of something and trick the ox so that he’ll return to his place. O
therwise, I’ll die.” Then he went wearily to his stall, while the ox continued to thank and bless him.

  “And the same thing will happen to you, my daughter,” said the vizier. “You will die for not having used your brains. Therefore, I want you to sit still, say nothing, and refrain from exposing yourself to danger. By Allah, I’m offering you the best advice that comes from my affection and great concern for you.”

  “Father,” she answered. “I must marry the king, and you can’t stop me.”

  “I don’t want you to do this.”

  “But I must.”

  “If you’re not silent and do as I say, I’ll do to you just what the farmer did to his wife.”

  “And what did he do?” Scheherazade asked.

  After the donkey returned to his stall, the farmer went out on the terrace of his house with his wife and family, for there was a full moon. Now the terrace overlooked the barn, and as the merchant was sitting there with his children playing around him, he soon heard the donkey say to the ox, “Tell me, friend, what do you propose to do tomorrow?”

  “To continue to follow your advice, of course,” said the ox. “Indeed, it was as good as it could be, and it has given me a good deal of rest. So when they bring me my food, I’ll refuse it, blow up my belly, and pretend to be sick.”

  The ass shook his head and said, “You’d better not do this.”

  “Why?” the ox asked.

  And the donkey answered, “I must warn you that I heard the merchant say to the plowman, ‘If the ox doesn’t get up from his place to do his work this morning and doesn’t eat his fodder today, take him over to the butcher to be slaughtered. Then give his flesh to the poor and make some leather out of his hide.’ You see now why I’m afraid for your life. So, take my advice before something terrible happens to you: when they bring you your fodder, eat it. Then get up, bellow, and paw the ground, or else our master will surely have you slain. May peace be with you!”