Arabian Nights

by Richard Burton

  “By Allah,” said the king, “you miserable flying creature! You’re keeping all of us from drinking.”

  So he struck the falcon with his sword and cut off her wing, but the bird raised her head and said by signs, “Look at what’s hanging on the tree!”

  The king lifted his eyes and caught sight of a brood of vipers, whose poison drops he had mistaken for water. Thereupon he repented for having lopped off the falcon’s wing, and after mounting his horse, he moved on with the dead gazelle until he arrived at his camp. After throwing the quarry to the cook, he said, “Take it and broil it.” Then he sat down on his chair to relax, but the falcon, still on his wrist, gasped and died. There was nothing left for the king to do but to cry in sorrow and remorse for having slain the falcon which had saved his life.

  “Such was the sad story about King Sinbad, and I’m certain that if I were to do as you desire, I would regret it. In fact, I’d be in the same situation as the man who killed his parrot.”

  “And what happened to him?” the vizier asked.

  In reply, the king began to tell

  The Tale of the Husband and the Parrot

  There was once a merchant who had married a perfectly beautiful wife, who was lovely and graceful. He was, however, so madly jealous of her that he would not leave her to conduct his business. At last an occasion arose that compelled him to travel. So he went to a bird market and bought a parrot for one hundred gold pieces. Then he placed the parrot in his house and expected it to act as a duenna and report to him everything that happened during his absence, for the bird was cunning and never forgot what it saw and heard.

  Now the merchant’s fair wife had fallen in love with a young Turk, who visited her during her husband’s absence, and she treated him to a feast during the day and lay with him during the night. Soon the merchant completed his business, returned home, and began at once to question the parrot about the conduct of his wife while he was in foreign countries.

  “Your wife has a male friend, who spent every night with her during your absence,” the parrot declared.

  Thereupon the husband went to his wife in a violent rage and gave her the beating of her life. Afterward, suspecting that one of the slave girls had been tattling to the master, the woman called them together and made them swear to tell her the truth. Indeed, they all swore that they had kept her secret, and they revealed to her that the parrot was the one who had squealed, insisting that they had heard it with their own ears.

  As a result the woman ordered one of the girls to set a hand mill under the cage and to grind with it. Another girl was commanded to sprinkle water through the cage roof, and a third to run around flashing a mirror of bright steel throughout the night. Next morning when the husband returned home after being entertained by one of his friends, he ordered that the parrot be brought before him and asked what had taken place while he was away.

  “Pardon me, oh master,” said the bird, “I could neither hear nor see anything because of the thunder and lightning that lasted throughout the murky night.”

  Since it happened to be the height of summer, the master was astounded and cried, “But we’re now in July, and there aren’t any storms or rain.”

  “By Allah,” replied the parrot, “I saw everything with my own eyes.”

  Thereupon the merchant, not suspecting his wife’s plot, became extremely angry, for he now believed that he had wrongly accused his wife. So he reached out, pulled the parrot from its cage, and dashed it upon the ground with such force that he killed it on the spot.

  Some days later one of the slave girls confessed to him the whole truth. But he would still not believe it until he saw the young Turk, his wife’s lover, come out of her chamber. Consequently, he drew his sword and slew him by a blow on the back of the neck, and he killed his wife in the same way. Thus, the two of them, laden with mortal sin, went straight to hell. Despite the fact that the merchant now knew the parrot had told the truth, and despite the fact that he honored the bird with his mourning, his grief could not bring it back to life.

  Upon hearing the words of King Yunan, the minister responded, “Your majesty, do you honestly think that I’m plotting against the Sage Duban? I’m only giving you my opinion and some advice. If you accept my advice, I think you’ll be saved. Otherwise, you’ll be destroyed just like that young prince who was treacherously betrayed by a certain vizier.”

  “And how did that come about?” asked the king.

  In reply, the minister began

  The Tale of the Prince and the Ogress

  There was once a prince who was extremely fond of hunting, and consequently, his father commanded one of his viziers to accompany the prince wherever he went. One day the young prince went hunting and was accompanied by his father’s minister. As they jogged on together, they caught sight of a big wild beast.

  “Let’s catch that noble beast!” cried the vizier to the prince.

  So the prince followed it and soon disappeared from everyone’s sight. Meanwhile, the beast got away from him in the woods, where he lost his way and could not decide which way to turn. All of a sudden a maiden appeared out of nowhere with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Who are you?” the prince asked.

  “I’m the daughter of a king among the kings of Hind,” she responded, “and I was traveling with a caravan in the desert when drowsiness overcame me and I unwittingly fell from my horse. So now I’m cut off from my attendants and am quite bewildered.”

  After hearing these words, the prince took pity on her and helped her onto his horse. She sat on the horse’s crupper, and they rode together until they came to an old ruin, where the maiden said to him, “Oh master, please stop. I must obey a call of nature.”

  After setting her down at the ruin, the prince waited and waited, but she took so long that he thought that she was wasting too much time. So, he followed her trail and was surprised to discover that she was a wicked ogress and had gone to tell her brood that she was going to bring them a fine fat youth for dinner.

  They responded by crying out, “Bring him to us quickly, Mother, so we can fill our bellies!”

  When the prince overheard their talk, it was clear that he would die, and his muscles quivered in fear. As he turned away to take flight, the ogress came out of the ruin and saw him trembling.

  “Why are you so afraid?” she asked.

  “I’ve encountered an enemy, whom I dread with all my might,” he replied.

  “Didn’t you say that you are the son of a king?” asked the ogress.

  “Indeed, I am,” he said.

  “Then why don’t you give him some money?” she said. “That would satisfy him.”

  “He won’t be satisfied with my money, only with my life,” he stated. “And I’m petrified of him and fear for my life.”

  “If you’re so distressed as you say,” she said, “ask help from Allah, who will surely protect you from any harm or evil that threatens you.”

  Then the prince raised his eyes toward heaven and cried out, “May Allah help me in my need! Grant me victory over my foe. Protect me with all your might. Praise be to Allah!”

  After hearing his prayer, the ogress decided to let him live, and the prince returned to his father and told him how the vizier had failed to protect him. Consequently, the king summoned the minister to him and slew him on the spot.

  “Likewise, King Yunan, if you continue to trust this physician, you will die the worst kind of death. This man whom you have made your intimate companion and whom you treat with such great respect will work your destruction. Didn’t you see how he healed your disease from the outside by something you grasped in your hand? Most assuredly he’ll destroy you in the very same manner that he healed you!”

  “You have spoken the truth,” replied King Yunan. “It may be that this sage has indeed come as a spy with the intention of killing me, for certainly if he cured me by something held in my hand, he can kill me by something given me to smell. Well, minister, tell me
what I should do with him.”

  “Have him summoned to you this very instant,” replied the vizier, “and when he comes, have his head cut off, and you will be rid of him and his wickedness. Trick him before he tricks you.”

  “You have again spoken wisely, oh vizier,” said the king, and he sent a servant to call the sage, who came in a joyful mood, for he did not know what was in store for him. When Duban entered, he gave thanks to the king for the generous gifts he had received and wished him well.

  “Do you know why I have summoned you?” the king responded curtly.

  “Only Allah Most Highest knows all there is to know!” the sage declared.

  But the king retorted, “I have summoned you to take your life and to make sure that you are utterly destroyed.”

  Duban the Sage was puzzled and astonished by this strange statement, and he asked, “Oh king, why do you want to slay me? What harm have I done you?”

  “Men tell me that you are a spy who has been sent to kill me,” said the king, “and therefore I’m going to kill you before you kill me.” Then he called his executioner and said, “Strike off the head of this traitor and deliver us from his evil practices.”

  “Spare me,” said the sage, “and Allah will spare you. If you slay me, Allah will slay you.”

  And he repeated the very same words that I said to you, oh jinnee, and yet you wouldn’t let me go because you were so bent on killing me. Likewise, King Yunan’s only response was, “I shall not be safe without slaying you. You must understand that since you healed me by something that I held in my hand, I can’t be safe from your killing me by something you might give to me to smell or other such things.”

  “So this is your reward!” remarked the sage. “You repay good only with evil.”

  “Nothing can help you,” declared the king. “You must die and without delay.”

  Now when the physician was sure that the king would slay him without waiting, he wept and regretted the good that he had done for the king. The executioner stepped forward, bound Sage Duban’s eyes, and drew out his sword. Then he turned to the king and said, “With your permission.”

  But the sage wept and cried, “Spare me, and Allah will spare you. If you slay me, Allah will slay you! Is this the reward that I deserve? It seems to me that you’re giving me nothing but crocodile boon.”

  “What do you mean by crocodile boon? Tell me!” the king demanded.

  “It’s impossible for me to tell you anything in this state,” countered the sage. “May Allah bless you if you spare me.”

  And he wept profusely until one of the king’s favorites stood up and said, “Oh king, grant me the blood of this physician, for we have never seen him sin against you or do anything except heal you from a disease which baffled every doctor and scientist in your kingdom.”

  “You don’t understand why I am putting this physician to death,” announced the king. “Listen carefully! If I spare him, I shall be sentencing myself to certain death, for someone who healed me of such a malady by something held in my hand can slay me by something held to my nose. And I’m afraid that he may kill me for some price. Indeed, he might be a spy whose sole purpose in coming here was to plot my destruction. So nothing can help him: die he must, and only then shall I be sure of my own life.”

  “Spare me, and Allah shall spare you,” Duban cried again. “If you slay me, Allah will slay you.”

  But it was in vain, and when the doctor knew for certain that the king would kill him, he said, “Oh king, if nothing will help me, grant me a small delay so that I may go to my house, take care of my obligations, and tell my people and neighbors where to bury me and distribute my books of medicine. Besides, among my books I have a most rare one that I would like you to keep as a treasure in your vaults.”

  “And what is in the book?” the king asked.

  “Things beyond your imagination, and the most amazing secret is that if you turn three pages right after you cut off my head and read three lines of the page on your left, my head will speak and answer every question that you deign to ask it.”

  The king was most astonished, and, laughing with delight at the novelty, he said, “Do you really want me to believe that when I cut off your head, it will speak to me?”

  “Yes, your majesty!”

  “This is indeed a strange matter!” said the king, and he decided instantly to send him closely guarded to his house, where Duban settled all his obligations. The next day he went to the king’s audience hall, where emirs, viziers, chamberlains, nabobs, nobles, and lords of estate were gathered together, making the chamber as colorful as a garden of flowers. The doctor went up to the king carrying an old worn book and a little metal can full of powder like the one that is used to protect the eyes. Then he sat down and said, “Give me a tray.”

  So they brought him one, and he poured the powder onto it, smoothed it down, and said, “Oh king, take this book, but do not open it until my head falls. Then place my head on this tray, press it down on the powder, and the blood will immediately stop flowing. That is the time to open the book.”

  Thereupon the king took the book and made a sign to the executioner, who arose and struck off the sage’s head. Afterward he placed it on the middle of the tray and pressed it down on the powder. When the blood stopped flowing, Duban’s eyes glistened again, and he said, “Now open the book, oh king!”

  The king opened the book, and found the pages stuck together. So he put his finger to his mouth to moisten it, and he was then easily able to turn over the first six pages, but he found nothing written on them. So he cried out, “Doctor, there’s nothing written here!”

  “Turn the pages some more,” Duban replied.

  The king continued to turn the pages, but the book was poisoned, and before long the venom penetrated his system so that the king had strong convulsions and cried out, “The poison has done its work!”

  And now the Sage Duban’s head replied, “Fortune repays an ungrateful tyrant’s oppressive ways with the just punishment he duly deserves!”

  No sooner had the head stopped speaking than the king rolled over dead.

  “Now I would like you to know, oh jinnee, that if King Yunan had spared the Sage Duban, Allah would have spared him, but he refused to do so, and thus Allah slew him. So, you see, ifrit, if you had spared me, Allah would have saved you.”

  And Scheherazade noticed that dawn was approaching, and she stopped telling her story.

  “Oh my sister,” said Dunazade, “how delightful, sweet, and graceful your tale is.”

  “That is nothing compared to what I could tell you this coming night if the king were to spare me and I could live.”

  “By Allah,” the king said to himself, “I won’t slay her until I hear the rest of the story, for it is truly wondrous.”

  They rested that night in mutual embrace until dawn finally came. Then the king went to his audience hall, where the viziers and troops came. So the king judged, appointed, deposed, commanded, and prohibited the rest of the day. When the court was adjourned, the king returned to the palace, and later that night Dunazade said to her sister, “Please finish the story for us.”

  And Scheherazade replied, “I shall, if the king gives his permission.”

  “Permission granted,” said the king.

  So Scheherazade resumed her tale.

  Then the fisherman said to the ifrit, “If you had spared me, I would have spared you. But you wouldn’t be content unless I died. So now I’ll let you die by keeping you jailed up in this jar, and I’ll hurl you into the sea.”

  Then the jinnee roared and cried out, “By Allah, fisherman, don’t do this! Spare me, and pardon my past deeds. If I’ve been tyrannical, then you should be generous, for it is said that when good is done to him who has done evil, the evildoer will stop doing evil deeds. So do not deal with me as Umamah dealt with Atikah.”

  “And what was their story?” asked the fisherman.

  “This is not the time for storytelling with me in
this prison,” said the jinnee. “But if you set me free, I’ll tell you the tale.”

  “Enough talk,” responded the fisherman. “Nothing can help you. I’m going to throw you back into the sea, and there’s no way you’ll ever be able to get out the bottle. When I humbled myself before you and wept, you sought only to slay me. I had done you absolutely no harm, and yet you repaid my kindness with evil. So now that I know just how evil you are, I shall warn whoever may fish you from the sea to toss you back again, and you’ll remain under these waters until the end of time, when your own end will come.”

  “Set me free!” the jinnee cried. “This is a noble occasion for generosity, and I’ll pledge never to do you any harm. In fact, I’ll help you get whatever you need so you’ll never be poor again.”

  The fisherman paused a moment and then finally accepted his promise on the condition that the jinnee would not harm him but would enter into his service. After making the jinnee swear a solemn oath by Almighty Allah, he opened the top, and the pillar of smoke rose up until it was completely out of the bottle. Then it thickened and became once more the hideous ifrit, who immediately kicked the bottle and sent it flying into the sea.

  Upon seeing how badly the bottle was treated, the fisherman thought his turn would certainly come next, and he piddled in his pants. “This does not augur well for me,” he said to himself, but he took heart and cried out, “Oh jinnee, keep your promise, for you will be judged later on how well you have kept your promises! You’ve made a vow to me and have sworn an oath not to deceive me. If you do, Allah will take His revenge, for He is a jealous God, who gives respite to the sinner but does not let him escape. So, let me remind you what the Sage Duban said to King Yunan, ‘Spare me, and Allah will spare you!’”