One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  Scheich Ibrahim making use of the liberty that wine inspires when it gets into the head, and not caring to be interrupted in his discourse, bade the fair Persian light them herself. “It is fitter for a young person like you to do it,” said he, “than for me; but be sure not to light above five or six” Up rose the fair Persian immediately, and taking a wax candle in her hand, lighted it with that which stood upon the carpet, and without any regard to Scheich Ibrahim’s order, lighted up the whole fourscore.

  By and by, while Scheich Ibrahim was entertaining the fair Persian with some discourse, Noor ad Deen took his turn to desire him to light up some of the candles in the lustres, not taking notice that all the wax-lights were already in a blaze. “Certainly,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, “you must be very lazy, or less vigorous than I am, that you are not able to light them yourself; get you gone, and light them; but be sure you light no more than three.” To work he went; but instead of that number, he lighted them all, and opened the shutters of the fourscore windows, before Scheich Ibrahim, who was deeply engaged with the fair Persian, knew any thing of the matter.

  The caliph Haroon al Rusheed being not yet gone to rest, was in a room of his palace on the river Tigris, from whence he could command a view both of the garden and pavilion. He accidentally opened the casement, and was extremely surprised at seeing the pavilion illuminated; and at first, by the greatness of the light, thought the city was on fire. The grand vizier Jaaffier was still with him, waiting for his going to rest. The caliph, in a great rage, called the vizier to him. “Careless vizier,” said he, “come hither, come hither; look at the pavilion of pictures, and tell me the reason of its being illuminated at this hour, now I am not there.”

  The grand vizier at this account fell into a violent trembling; but when he came nearer, and with his own eyes saw the truth of what the caliph had told him, he was more alarmed than before. Some excuse must be made to appease the caliph’s anger. “Commander of the true believers,” said he, “all that I can say to your majesty about this matter is, that some five or six days ago Scheich Ibrahim came to acquaint me, that he had a design to assemble the ministers of his mosque, to assist at a ceremony he was ambitious of performing in honour of your majesty’s auspicious reign. I asked him if I could be any way serviceable to him in this affair; upon which he entreated me to get leave of your majesty to perform the ceremony in the pavilion. I sent him away with leave to hold the assembly, telling him I would take care to acquaint your majesty with it; and I ask pardon for having quite forgotten it.” “Scheich Ibrahim,” continued he, “has certainly made choice of this day for the ceremony; and after treating the ministers of his mosque, was willing to indulge them with the sight of this illumination.”

  “Jaaffier,” said the caliph, with a tone that plainly shewed his anger was a little mollified, “according to your own account, you have committed three faults; the first, in giving Scheich Ibrahim leave to perform this ceremony in my pavilion, for a person in such an office is not worthy of so great an honour; the second, in not acquainting me with it; and the third, in not diving into the bottom of the good old man’s intention. For my part, I am persuaded he only did it to try if he could get any money towards bearing the charge of it; but that never came into your head.”

  The grand vizier, overjoyed to hear the caliph put the matter upon that footing, very willingly owned the faults he reproached him with, and freely confessed he was to blame in not giving Scheich Ibrahim a few pieces of gold. “Since the case is so,” added the caliph, “it is just that thou shouldst be punished for thy mistakes, but thy punishment shall be light: thou shalt spend the remainder of the night as I mean to do, with these honest people, whose company I shall be well pleased with; and while I am putting on a citizen’s habit, go thou and disguise thyself with Mesrour, and come both of you along with me.”

  The vizier would have persuaded him it was late, and that all the company would be gone before he could get thither: but the caliph said he would positively go. The vizier, who knew that not a syllable of what he had said was true, began to be in great consternation; but there was no reply to be made, and go he must.

  The caliph then, disguised like a citizen, with the grand vizier Jaaffier and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, stole out of the palace together. They rambled through the streets of Bagdad till they came to the garden; the door, through the carelessness of Scheich Ibrahim, was open, he having forgotten to shut it when he came back with the wine. The caliph was very angry at this. “Jaaffier,” said he to the grand vizier, “what excuse have you for the door’s being open at this unseasonable hour?” “Is it possible that Scheich Ibrahim makes a custom of leaving it thus all night? I rather believe the hurry of the feast has been the occasion of this neglect.”

  The caliph went into the garden; and when he came to the pavilion, resolving not to go into the hall till he knew what was doing, consulted with the grand vizier whether it was not his best way to climb up into one of the trees that was near, to observe what was going forward. The grand vizier casting his eyes upon the door, perceived it stood half open, and told the caliph. It seems Scheich Ibrahim had left it so, when he was prevailed upon to come in and bear Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian company.

  The caliph laying aside his first design, stole softly up to the hall-door, which standing half open, he could see all the company within, without being discovered himself.

  But how was he surprised, when he saw a lady of incomparable beauty and a handsome young man sitting, with Scheich Ibrahim by them. Scheich Ibraham held a cup in his hand. “My fair lady,” said he to the fair Persian, “a true toper never drinks without singing a song first: if you please to hear, I will give you one of my best songs.”

  Scheich Ibrahim sung, and the caliph was the more surprised, because till that moment he never knew of his drinking wine, but always took him for a grave, solid man, as he seemed to be to outward appearance. The caliph retired from the door with the same caution as he had made his approaches to it; and coming to the grand vizier, who was standing on the steps a little lower, “Come up,” said he to him, “and see if those within are the ministers of the mosque, as you would have made me believe.”

  By the tone of voice in which the caliph spoke these last words, the vizier understood that things went ill on his side: however, he went up the steps; but when he had peeped in at the door, and saw the three sitting in that condition, he trembled for his life. He returned to the caliph, but in such confusion, that he knew not what to say. “What riotous doings are here?” said the caliph to him: “who are these people that have presumed to take the liberty of diverting themselves in my garden and pavilion? and how durst Scheich Ibrahim give them admittance, and partake of the diversion with them? I must, however, confess, I never saw two persons more beautiful or better paired in my life; and therefore, before I discover my anger, I will inform myself better, and know who they are, and the reason of their being here.” He went to the door again to observe them more narrowly; and the vizier, who followed, stood behind him, while he fixed his eyes upon them. They both plainly heard every word that Scheich Ibrahim said to the fair Persian. “Is there any thing, my charming lady, wanting to render the pleasure of the evening more complete?” “Nothing but a lute,” replied the fair Persian, “and methinks, if you could get me one, all would be well.” “Can you play upon it?” said Scheich Ibrahim. “Fetch me one,” replied the fair Persian, “and you shall hear whether I can or not.”

  Scheich Ibrahim, without stirring very far from his place, took a lute out of a press, and presented it to the fair Persian, who begun to tune it. The caliph, in the mean time, turning to the grand vizier, “Jaaffier,” said he, “the young lady is going to play upon the lute; and if she performs well, I will forgive her, and the young man for her sake; but as for thee, I will have thee impaled.” “Commander of the true believers,” replied the grand vizier, “if that is your intention, I wish to God she may play ill.” “Why so?” said the caliph. “Becau
se,” replied the grand vizier, “the longer we live in this world, the more reason we shall have to comfort ourselves with the hopes of dying in good sociable company.” The caliph, who loved a repartee, began to laugh at this; and putting his ear to the opening of the door, listened to hear the fair Persian play.

  The fair Persian began in such a style, that, from the first moment of her touching the lute, the caliph perceived she did it with a masterly hand. Afterwards accompanying the lute with her voice, which was admirably fine, she sung and played with so much skill and sweetness, that the caliph was quite ravished to hear her.

  As soon as the fair Persian had finished her song, the caliph went down the steps, and the vizier followed him. When he came to the bottom, “I never,” said he to the vizier, “heard a more charming voice, or a lute better touched. Isaac, whom I thought the most skilful player in the world, does not come up to her. I am so charmed with her music, that I will go in, and hear her play before me. We must, therefore, consider how I can do it.”

  “Commander of the true believers,” said the grand vizier, “if you should go in, and Scheich Ibrahim chance to know you, he would infallibly die with the fright.” “It is that which hurts me,” replied the caliph, “and I should be loth to be the occasion of his death, after so many years service. A thought is just come into my head, that may succeed; stay here with Mesrour, and wait for me in the next walk.”

  The neighbourhood of the Tigris had given the caliph an opportunity of turning the stream under a stately bridge into his garden, through a piece of water, whither the choicest fish of the river used to retire. The fishermen knew it well; but the caliph had expressly charged Scheich Ibrahim not to suffer any of them to come near it. However, that night, a fisherman passing by the garden-door, which the caliph had left open as he found it, made use of the opportunity, and going in, went directly to the canal.

  The fisherman immediately fell to work with his nets, and was just ready to draw them, when the caliph, fearing what would be the effect of Scheich Ibrahim’s negligence, but willing to make use of it to bring his design about, came to the same place. The fisherman, in spite of his disguise, knew him, and throwing himself at his feet, humbly implored his pardon, and excused himself on account of his poverty. “Rise,” said the caliph, “and be not afraid; only draw your nets, that I may see what fish you have got.”

  The fisherman, recovered of his fright, quickly obeyed the caliph’s orders. He drew out five or six very large fishes; and the caliph choosing the two biggest, tied them together by the head, with the twig of a tree. “After this,” said he to the fisherman, “give me thy clothes, and take mine.” The exchange was soon made; and the caliph being dressed like a fisherman, even to his boots and turban, “Take thy nets,” said he to the fisherman, “and get thee about thy business.”

  When the fisherman, well pleased with his good fortune, was gone, the caliph, taking the two fishes in his hand, went to look after the grand vizier and Mesrour; he first met Jaaffier, who, not knowing him, asked what he wanted, and bade him go about his business. The caliph fell a laughing; by which the vizier recognising him, “Commander of the true believers,” said he, “is it possible it can be you? I knew you not; and I ask a thousand pardons for my rudeness. You are so disguised that you may venture into the hall without any fear of being discovered by Scheich Ibrahim.” “Stay you here with Mesrour,” said the caliph, “while I go and play my part.”

  The caliph went up to the hall, and knocked at the door. Noor ad Deen hearing him first, told Scheich Ibrahim of it, who asked who was there? The caliph opened the door, and stepping a little way into the hall to shew himself, “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he, “I am the fisherman Kerim, who being informed of your design to treat some of your friends, have brought you two very fine fishes, fresh caught, to ask if you have any occasion for them.”

  Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian were pleased to hear him name fish. “Pray,” said the latter to Scheich Ibrahim, “let him come in, that we may look at them.” Scheich Ibrahim, by this time, was incapable of asking this counterfeit fisherman how or which way he came thither, his whole thought being only to oblige the fair Persian. With much ado he turned his head towards the door, being quite drunk, and, in a stammering tone, calling to the caliph, whom he took to be a fisherman, “Come hither, thou nightly thief,” said he, “and let us see what thou hast got.”

  The caliph went forwards, and counterfeiting all the actions of a fisherman, presented the two fishes. “These are very fine ones indeed,” said the fair Persian, “and if they were well dressed and seasoned, I should be glad to eat some of them.” “The lady is in the right,” answered Scheich Ibrahim; “but what can you do with your fish, unless it were dressed? Go, dress it thyself, and bring it to us; thou wilt find every thing necessary in my kitchen.”

  The caliph went back to the grand vizier. “Jaaffier,” said he, “I have been very well received; but they want the fish to be dressed.” “I will take care to dress it myself,” said the grand vizier, “and they shall have it in a moment.” “Nay,” replied the caliph, “so eager am I to accomplish my design, that I will take that trouble myself; for since I have personated the fisherman so well, surely I can play the cook for once; in my younger days, I dealt a little in cookery, and always came off with credit.” So saying, he went directly towards Scheich Ibrahim’s lodgings, and the grand vizier and Mesrour followed him.

  They all fell to work; and though Scheich Ibrahim’s kitchen was not very large, yet there was every thing in it that they wanted. The fish was quickly cooked; and the caliph served it up, putting to every one’s place a lemon to squeeze into the sauce, if they thought proper. They all ate very heartily, but especially Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian; and the caliph stood before them.

  As soon as the repast was over, Noor ad Deen looking at the caliph, “Fisherman,” said he, “there never was better fish eaten; and you have done us the greatest favour.” At the same time, putting his hand into his bosom, and pulling out a purse of thirty pieces of gold, the remainder of forty that Sangiar, the officer of the king of Bussorah, had given him just upon his departure, “Take it,” said he to him; “if I had any more, thou shouldst have it; had I known thee in my prosperity, I would have taken care to secure thee from want: do not refuse the small present I make thee, but accept of it as kindly as if it were much greater.”

  The caliph took the purse, thanked Noor ad Deen, and perceiving by the weight that it contained gold, “Sir,” said he to him, “I cannot enough thank you for your liberality, and I think myself very fortunate in having to do with a person of your generosity; but before I take my leave I have a favour to ask, which I beg you not to deny me. Yonder is a lute, which makes me believe that the lady understands playing upon it; and if you can prevail with her to play but one tune, I shall go away perfectly satisfied; for a lute, sir, is an instrument I am particularly fond of.”

  “Fair Persian,” said Noor ad Deen, immediately addressing himself to her, “I ask that favour of you, and I hope you will not refuse me.” She took up the lute without more entreaties, and putting it presently in tune, played and sung with such an air, as charmed the very soul of the caliph. Afterwards she played upon the lute without singing, but with so much strength and softness, as to transport him into an ecstasy.

  When the fair Persian had given over playing, the caliph cried out, “What a voice! what a hand! what skill! Was there ever finer singing, or better playing upon the lute? Never was there any seen or heard like it.”

  Noor ad Deen, who was accustomed to give all that belonged to him to persons who praised him, said, “Fisherman, I find thou hast some taste for music; since thou art so delighted with her performance, she is thine, I make thee a present of her.” At the same time he rose up, and taking his robe which he had laid by, was going away, and leaving the caliph, whom he believed to be no other than a fisherman, in possession of the fair Persian.

  The fair Persian was extremely surprised at Noor
ad Deen’s liberality; she took hold of him, and looking tenderly at him, “Whither, sir,” said she, “are you going? sit down in your place, I entreat you, and hearken to what I am going to sing and play.” He did as she desired him, and then the fair Persian, touching the lute, and looking upon him with tears in her eyes, sung some verses that she had made ex tempore, to reproach him with his indifference, and the easiness as well as cruelty with which he resigned her to Kerim. She only hinted, without explaining herself any farther to a fisherman; for she, as well as Noor ad Deen, was ignorant of his being the caliph. When she had done playing, she put the lute down by her, and clapped a handkerchief to her face, to hide the tears she could not repress.

  Noor ad Deen made no answer to all these reproaches, but by his silence seemed to declare he did not repent of what he had done The caliph, surprised at what he had heard, said, “Sir, as far as I see, this beautiful, rare, and accomplished lady, of whom so generously you have made me a present, is your slave?” “It is very true, Kerim,” replied Noor ad Deen, “and thou wouldst be more surprised than thou art now, should I tell thee all the misfortunes that have happened to me upon her account.” “Ah! I beseech you, sir,” replied the caliph, still behaving like a fisherman, “oblige me so far as to let me hear part of your story.”

  Noor ad Deen, who had already obliged him in several things of more consequence, was so complaisant as to relate the whole story to him. He began with the vizier his father’s buying the fair Persian for the king of Bussorah, and omitted nothing of what he had done, or what had happened to him, from that time to their arrival at Bagdad, and to the very moment he was talking to him.