The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 2

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  The prince then asked his father what had happened to the wise man who had made the horse. ‘May God give him no blessing,’ said the king. ‘That was an unlucky hour in which I saw him, as it was he who caused you to leave me, and since then he has been in prison.’ The prince gave orders for him to be freed, taken from prison and brought before him. When the wise man came, the king presented him with a robe to show his favour, but although the king showered gifts on him, he refused him his daughter’s hand. This made the man furiously angry and he regretted what he had done, realizing that the prince had discovered the secret of the horse and knew how to set it in motion. The king then advised his son not to go near the horse again or ever to mount it from that day on, adding: ‘You don’t know all its qualities and you have been tricked by it.’

  The prince had told his father about what had happened to him with the princess and her father, the ruler of San‘a’. ‘Had the king wanted to kill you, he would have done so,’ his father told him, adding: ‘But you were not destined to die so soon.’ The prince, however, filled with anxiety because of his love for the princess, went to the horse, mounted it and after he had turned the knob to make it climb, up it flew, high into the sky. Next morning, when the king went to look for him, he was not to be found and, full of concern, the king climbed up to the palace roof only to see his son soaring into the sky. In distress at his loss the king bitterly regretted not having hidden the horse away, and he promised himself that, if his son returned, he would put his mind at ease by destroying it, and he then started to weep and wail again…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the king started to weep and wail again, in sorrow for him.

  So much for him, but as for the prince, he flew on until he came to San‘a’, and then landed on the roof where he had come down the first time. Taking care to keep under cover, he went to the room of the princess, but he could find neither her, her maids or her former guard, the eunuch. In his distress he searched the palace for her until he discovered her in a different room, lying in bed and surrounded by maids and nurses. He went in and greeted them, and at the sound of his voice she got up, embraced him and started to kiss him between the eyes and to clasp him to her bosom. ‘My lady,’ he said, ‘you have left me lonely all this time.’ ‘It was you who left me lonely,’ she replied, ‘and had you stayed away any longer, there is no doubt that I would have died.’ He said: ‘My lady, what do you think of my behaviour to your father and of how he acted to me? Had it not been for my love for you, who are the temptation of all mankind, I would have killed him and made an example of him for all to see, but as I love you, so I love him for your sake.’ ‘How could you leave me,’ she asked, ‘and how could there be any pleasure for me in life when you are gone?’ ‘Will you obey me and follow what I say?’ he asked. ‘Say what you want,’ she replied, ‘for I will agree to whatever you propose and not disobey you in anything.’ ‘Then come with me to my own kingdom,’ he said. ‘Willingly,’ she told him.

  The prince was overjoyed to hear this. He took her by the hand and, after getting her to swear a solemn oath that she had agreed to this, he led her to the flat roof at the top of the castle, where he mounted the horse and took her up behind him. He kept a tight grip on her, and after tying her firmly in place he moved the knob on the horse’s shoulder to make it rise. When it took off with them, the maids cried out, alerting the princess’s father and mother, who rushed up to the roof. Looking upwards the king saw the ebony horse flying off into the air with the eloping pair, and as he became increasingly agitated, he called out: ‘Prince, for God’s sake have pity on me and on my wife and do not part us from our daughter.’ The prince made no reply, but, thinking to himself that the princess might regret leaving her mother and father, he asked her: ‘O temptation of the age, would you like me to return you to your parents?’ ‘By God, my lord,’ she replied, ‘I don’t want that, and what I do want is to be with you wherever you are, as my love for you has distracted me from everything else, even my mother and father.’

  When the prince heard that, he was delighted and he made the horse travel at an easy pace so as not to alarm her. He flew on with her until he caught sight of a green meadow with a stream of running water gushing from a spring. There the two landed and after they had eaten and drunk, the prince remounted and tied the princess on behind him lest she fall. He then set off with her again and flew on until, to his great delight, he reached his father’s city. He wanted to show her the seat of his father’s power and to let her see that his kingdom was larger than that of her father, so he landed with her in one of the orchards where the king used to go for relaxation. He took her to a garden house that was kept ready for his father, and there at the door he left the ebony horse, telling her to look after it and saying: ‘Stay here until I send a messenger to you, for I am going to my father to prepare a palace for you and to show you my kingdom.’

  Hearing this, the joyful princess said: ‘Do as you want,’…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that hearing this, the joyful princess said: ‘Do as you want,’ as she realized that her entrance was to be made with the pomp and ceremony that suited one of her rank. So the prince set off, leaving her behind, and on his arrival at the city he went in to greet his father, who was delighted to see him and welcomed him warmly. The prince told him that he had brought the princess about whom he had spoken earlier. ‘I have left her outside the city in an orchard,’ he explained, ‘and I have come to tell you so that you can prepare a procession and go out to meet her and show her your kingdom, your army and your guards.’ The king willingly agreed to this and gave immediate orders for the city to be adorned with decorations. He himself, in all his pomp and splendour, rode out with all his troops, the dignitaries of his state, as well as his other officials and servants. From his own palace the prince brought out jewellery and robes and other things that are found in royal treasuries. He prepared for the princess a litter covered with green, red and yellow brocade, on which were seated Indian, Rumi and Abyssianian slave girls, together with an astonishing display of treasures. Then, leaving this with its attendants, he went on ahead to the garden house where he had deposited the princess, but although he searched through it he could not find either her or the horse. He struck himself on the face, tore his clothes and started to wander around the orchard.

  At first he was bemused, but later, returning to his senses, he asked himself how she could have learned the horse’s secret, when he had told her nothing at all about it. He then thought that perhaps the Persian sorcerer who had made it had come across her and had taken her in revenge for what his father had done to him. He asked the guards of the orchard whether anyone had passed them and they said: ‘We have seen no one enter apart from the Persian sorcerer who went in to collect healing herbs.’ When the prince heard that, he knew for certain that this was the man who had taken the girl.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the prince heard that, he knew for certain that this was the man who had taken the girl.

  As had been predestined, when the prince had left the princess in the garden house and had gone to his father’s palace to make his preparations, the Persian had come to the orchard to collect healing herbs. He had detected a scent of musk and perfume filling the place and emanating from the princess. He went towards the source of the scent and when he came to the garden house he saw the horse that he had made with his own hands standing by the door. He was delighted by this, as its loss had been a great sorrow for him. He went up to it and found, af
ter a thorough inspection, that it was undamaged. He was about to mount it and ride off when it occurred to him that he should look to see what the prince had brought and left there. So he went in and found the princess seated like the bright sun in a cloudless sky. When he saw her, he realized that here was a lady of high rank whom the prince had brought there on the horse, and that he must have left her while he went to the city in order to come back with a procession to escort her in with pomp and ceremony.

  He then went in and kissed the ground before her. She looked up and found, on inspection, that here was a very ugly man of loathsome appearance. She asked him who he was and he said: ‘My lady, I am a messenger from the prince. He sent me to you with orders to bring you to another orchard close to the city.’ When she heard that, she asked where the prince himself was and he replied: ‘He is with his father in the city and he is about to come now with a great procession.’ ‘Could he find no one to send me except you?’ she asked, at which he laughed and said: ‘My lady, don’t be deceived by my ugly face and my unpleasant appearance. Were you to get from me what the prince has got, you would praise me. It was because of my ugliness and my frightening shape that he picked me as his messenger to you, both out of his jealousy for your reputation and because of his love for you. For otherwise he has vast quantities of mamluks, black slaves, pages, eunuchs and retainers.’

  This convinced the princess and led her to believe him. So she got up…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the princess was convinced by what the Persian sorcerer had told her about the prince. So she got up, put her hand in his and asked: ‘Father, what have you brought with you for me to ride?’ ‘Lady,’ he replied, ‘you can ride the horse on which you came.’ ‘I can’t do that on my own,’ she told him, at which he smiled, realizing that she was in his power, and he then told her that he would ride with her himself. He mounted and took her up behind him, keeping a tight grip on her and tying her securely in her place, ignorant as she was of his intentions. He moved the knob to make the horse rise, its interior filled with air, it stirred and moved and it then rose up into the air, flying on until it had left the city behind.

  ‘Man,’ said the princess, ‘this is not what you told me about the prince when you claimed that he had sent you to me.’ ‘May God defile him,’ answered the Persian, ‘for he is a disgusting, sordid fellow.’ ‘Damn you,’ she said, ‘how dare you disobey an order given to you by your master?’ ‘He is not my master,’ the Persian said, adding: ‘Do you know who I am?’ She told him that all she knew was what he had told her about himself, to which he replied: ‘What I told you was a trick that I was playing on you and on the prince. I was about to spend the rest of my life grieving for this horse that you are riding. I made it myself, only to have the prince get hold of it, but now I have both it and you and I have burned his heart as he burned mine. He will never possess it again, but you can console yourself and be happy, for I shall be of more use to you than he would be.’

  When the princess heard this, she slapped herself in the face and called out: ‘O sorrow, I have lost my beloved and I did not stay with my father and mother.’ While she wept bitterly over what had happened to her, the Persian flew on with her to the land of Rum and then landed in a green meadow with streams and trees. This was near the city of an important king, who, as it happened, had gone out that day to enjoy himself hunting. He was passing by the meadow when he saw the Persian standing there with the horse and the girl beside him. Before the Persian knew what was going on, the king’s slaves took him by surprise and brought him before the king, together with the girl and the horse. The king looked at the Persian’s ugliness and his unprepossessing appearance and then at the beauty and grace of the girl. He asked her: ‘My lady, what is the relationship between this old man and you?’ The Persian promptly replied: ‘She is my wife and my cousin,’ but, on hearing this, the princess gave him the lie and exclaimed: ‘By God, your majesty, I don’t know him and he is no husband of mine! He used trickery to seize me by force.’ When the king heard this, he ordered the Persian to be beaten, and so severe was the beating that he almost died. On the king’s orders he was carried to the city and thrown into prison. The king then took the princess and the horse with him, but he didn’t know how to set it in motion.

  So much for the Persian and the princess, but as for the prince, he put on travelling clothes, took what money he needed and set off on his travels in a state of great despondency. He moved quickly, trying to follow the trail of the princess from town to town and city to city, asking about the ebony horse, but everyone who heard him talk about it wondered at him, thinking that he was talking nonsense. He went on like this for some time, but in spite of his investigations and the number of questions that he asked, he could get no news of the missing pair. He then came to the city of the princess’s father but, although he asked about her there, he heard no news and found her father grieving for her loss. He went back and set out for the land of Rum, still trying to track down his quarry and putting his questions.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the prince set out for the land of Rum, still trying to track down his quarry and putting his questions.

  As it happened, he stopped in a khan where he noticed a group of merchants sitting and talking. He took a seat near them and heard one tell his companions that he had just come across something remarkable. When they asked him what this was, he said: ‘I was in a certain part of such-and-such a city’ – and he gave the name of the city where the princess was – ‘when I heard the people there telling an extraordinary tale of how the king had gone out hunting one day with a number of his companions and state dignitaries. When they reached open country they passed by a green meadow where they found a man standing with a girl seated beside him, and with him there was a horse made of ebony. He was an ugly-looking fellow of formidable appearance, while she was a beautiful and graceful girl, radiantly perfect with an excellent figure. The ebony horse was a wonder and no one has ever seen anything more handsome or better constructed.’ ‘What did the king do with them?’ the other merchants asked, and their companion said: ‘He took the man and asked him about the girl, whom he then claimed to be his wife and cousin, but she said that this was a lie. So the king took her from him and ordered him to be beaten and thrown into prison, but I don’t know what happened to the ebony horse.’

  When the prince heard this he went up to the man and started to question him courteously and politely until he was told the name of the city and of the king. When he had got this information he spent a joyful night, and in the morning he set off and continued on his way until he reached the city. He was about to go in when the gatekeepers stopped him. They wanted to take him before the king so that he might be asked about his circumstances, his reason for coming to the city and what skills he had as a craftsman, these being questions that it was the king’s custom to put to strangers. The prince had arrived in the evening, and as this was a time when no one could enter the king’s presence or consult with him, the gatekeepers took him to the prison, intending to leave him there. The gaolers, however, seeing how handsome he was, had no wish to imprison him, and so they made him sit with them outside the prison itself, and when food was brought for them, he ate with them until he had had enough.

  After they had finished eating, they started talking and, turning to the prince, they asked him where he came from. ‘From Persia, the land of the Chosroes,’ he told them. They laughed and one of them said: ‘I have listened to stories and accounts of many peoples, Persian, and I have seen for myself their circumstances, but I have never seen or heard a bigger liar than the Persian whom we are holding in prison here at the moment,’ to
which another added: ‘Nor have I ever seen an uglier and more loathsome-looking man.’ ‘What obvious lies has he told?’ asked the prince, and they told him: ‘He claims to be a sorcerer. The king saw him when he was out hunting. He had with him a remarkably beautiful and graceful girl, radiantly perfect and well shaped, together with a horse made of black ebony, as fine a thing as I have ever seen. The girl is with the king, who is in love with her, but she is mad. Had the man been a sorcerer, as he claims, he would have cured her, for the king is desperately looking for some remedy for her and is trying to cure her madness. The ebony horse is in the royal treasury and the ugly man who was with the girl is here with us in prison. In the dark of night he weeps and wails in self-pity and doesn’t allow us to sleep.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the gaolers told the prince about the Persian sorcerer whom they were holding in their prison and of how he was weeping and wailing. It occurred to the prince that he could try to arrange things so as to reach his goal, and when the gaolers wanted to sleep, they brought him into the prison and shut the door on him. He then heard the sorcerer weeping and lamenting to himself in Persian, saying as he wailed: ‘Alas for the wrong that I did to myself and to the prince, and for what I did with the girl, as I neither left her behind nor got what I wanted. It was all because of my mismanagement. I tried to get what I didn’t deserve and wasn’t proper for a man like me, and whoever does this meets the kind of disaster into which I have fallen.’ On hearing this, the prince spoke to him in Persian and said: ‘How long are you going to go on weeping and wailing? Do you think that what has happened to you has never happened to anyone else?’ The sorcerer, listening to him, was glad of his company and complained to him of the miserable plight in which he found himself.