One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  Then said the Cadis, “O King, of a truth this damsel is the wonder of the time and the unique pearl of the age! Never in all our lives heard we the like.” And they called down blessings on Sherkan and went away. Then said he to his attendants, “Prepare the wedding festivities and make ready food of all kinds.” So they addressed themselves to do his bidding, and he bade the wives of the amirs and viziers and grandees depart not until the time of the wedding banquet and of the unveiling of the bride. Hardly was the time of afternoon-prayer come, when the tables were spread with roast meats and geese and fowls and all that the heart can desire or that can delight the eye; and all the people ate till they were satisfied. Moreover, the King had sent for all the singing-women of Damascus and they were present, together with all the slave-girls of the King and the notables who knew how to sing. When the evening came and it grew dark, they lighted flambeaux, right and left, from the gate of the citadel to that of the palace, and the amirs and viziers and grandees defiled before King Sherkan, whilst the singers and the tire-women took Nuzhet ez Zeman, to dress and adorn her, but found she needed no adorning. Meantime King Sherkan went to the bath and coming out, sat down on his bed of estate, whilst they unveiled the bride before him in seven different dresses; after which they eased her of the weight of her dresses and ornaments and gave such injunctions as are usually given to girls on their wedding-night. Then Sherkan went in to her and took her maidenhead; and she at once conceived by him, whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and commanded the sages to record the date of her conception. On the morrow, he went forth and seated himself on his throne, and the grandees came in to him and gave him joy. Then he called his private secretary and bade him write to his father, King Omar ben Ennuman, a letter to the following effect: “Know that I have bought me a damsel, who excels in learning and accomplishment and is mistress of all kinds of knowledge. I have set her free and married her and she has conceived by me. And needs must I send her to Baghdad to visit my brother Zoulmekan and my sister Nuzhet ez Zeman.” And he went on to praise her wit and salute his brother and sister, together with the Vizier Dendan and all the amirs. Then he sealed the letter and despatched it to his father by a courier, who was absent a whole month, after which time he returned with the old King’s answer. Sherkan took it and read as follows, after the usual preamble, “In the name of God,” etc., “This is from the afflicted and distraught, him who hath lost his children and is (as it were) an exile from his native land, King Omar ben Ennuman, to his son Sherkan. Know that, since thy departure from me, the place is become contracted upon me, so that I can no longer have patience nor keep my secret: and the reason of this is as follows. It chanced that Zoulmekan sought my leave to go on the pilgrimage, but I, fearing for him the shifts of fortune, forbade him therefrom until the next year or the year after. Soon after this, I went out to hunt and was absent a whole month. When I returned, I found that thy brother and sister had taken somewhat of money and set out by stealth with the caravan of pilgrims. When I knew this, the wide world became strait on me, O my son; but I awaited the return of the caravan, hoping that they would return with it. Accordingly, when the caravan came back, I questioned the pilgrims of them, but they could give me no news of them; so I put on mourning apparel for them, being heavy at heart and sleepless and drowned in the tears of my eyes.” Then followed these verses:

  Their image is never absent a breathing-while from my breast, I

  have made it within my bosom the place of the honoured

  guest,

  But that I look for their coming, I would not live for an hour,

  And but that I see them in dreams, I ne’er should lie down

  to rest.

  The letter went on (after the usual salutations to Sherkan and those of his court), “Do not thou therefore neglect to seek news of them, for indeed this is a dishonour to us.” When Sherkan read the letter, he mourned for his father, but rejoiced in the loss of his brother and sister. Now Nuzhet ez Zeman knew not that he was her brother nor he that she was his sister, although he paid her frequent visits, both by day and by night, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. God made the delivery easy to her and she gave birth to a daughter, whereupon she sent for Sherkan and said to him, “This is thy daughter: name her as thou wilt.” Quoth he, “Folk use to name their children on the seventh day.” Then he bent down to kiss the child and saw, hung about her neck, a jewel, which he knew at once for one of those that the princess Abrizeh had brought from the land of the Greeks. At this sight, his senses fled, his eyes rolled and wrath seized on him, and he looked at Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, “O damsel, whence hadst thou this jewel?” When she heard this, she replied, “I am thy lady and the lady of all in thy palace. Art thou not ashamed to say to me, ‘O damsel’? Indeed, I am a queen, the daughter of a king; and now concealment shall cease and the truth be made known. I am Nuzhet ez Zeman, daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman.” When Sherkan heard this, he was seized with trembling and bowed his head towards the earth, whilst his heart throbbed and his colour paled, for he knew that she was his sister by the same father. Then he lost his senses; and when he revived, he abode in amazement, but did not discover himself to her and said to her, “O my lady, art thou indeed the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman?” “Yes,” replied she; and he said, “Tell me how thou camest to leave thy father and be sold for a slave.” So she told him all that had befallen her, from first to last, how she had left her brother sick in Jerusalem and how the Bedouin had lured her away and sold her to the merchant. When Sherkan heard this all was certified that she was indeed his sister, he said to himself, “How can I have my sister to wife? By Allah, I must marry her to one of my chamberlains; and if the thing get wind, I will avouch that I divorced her before consummation and married her to my chief chamberlain.” Then he raised his head and said, “O Nuzhet ez Zeman, thou art my very sister; for I am Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, and may God forgive us the sin into which we have fallen!” She looked at him and seeing that he spoke the truth, became as one bereft of reason and wept and buffeted her face, exclaiming, “There is no power and no virtue but in God! Verily we have fallen into grievous sin! What shall I do and what answer shall I make my father and my mother, when they say to me, ‘Whence hadst thou thy daughter’?” Quoth Sherkan, “I purpose to marry thee to my chief chamberlain and let thee bring up my daughter in his house, that none may know thee to be my sister. This that hath befallen us was ordained of God for a purpose of His own, and there is no way to cover ourselves but by thy marriage with the chamberlain, ere any know.” Then he fell to comforting her and kissing her head, and she said to him, “What wilt thou call the child?” “Call her Kuzia Fekan,” replied he. Then he gave her in marriage to the chief chamberlain, and they reared the child in his house, on the laps of the slave-girls, till, one day, there came to King Sherkan a courier from his father, with a letter to the following purport, “In the name of God, etc. Know, O puissant King, that I am sore afflicted for the loss of my children: sleep fails me and wakefulness is ever present with me. I send thee this letter that thou mayst make ready the tribute of Syria and send it to us, together with the damsel whom thou hast bought and taken to wife; for I long to see her and hear her discourse; because there has come to us from the land of the Greeks a devout old woman, with five damsels, high-bosomed maids, endowed with knowledge and accomplishments and all fashions of learning that befit mortals; and indeed the tongue fails to describe this old woman and her companions. As soon as I saw the damsels, I loved them and wished to have them in my palace and at my commandment, for none of the kings possesses the like of them; so I asked the old woman their price, and she replied, ‘I will not sell them but for the tribute of Damascus.’ And by Allah, this is but little for them, for each one of them is worth the whole price. So I agreed to this and took them into my palace, and they remain in my possession. Wherefore do thou expedite the tribute to us, that the old woman may return to h
er own country; and send us the damsel, that she may strive with them before the doctors; and if she overcome them, I will send her back to thee with the year’s revenue of Baghdad.” When Sherkan read this letter, he went in to his brother-in-law and said to him, “Call the damsel to whom I married thee.” So she came, and he showed her the letter and said to her, “O my sister, what answer wouldst thou have me make to this letter?” “It is for thee to judge,” replied she. Then she recalled her people and her native land and yearned after them; so she said to him, “Send me and my husband the Chamberlain to Baghdad, that I may tell my father how the Bedouin seized me and sold me to the merchant, and how thou boughtest me of him and gavest me in marriage to the Chamberlain, after setting me free.” “Be it so,” replied Sherkan. Then he made ready the tribute in haste and gave it to the Chamberlain, bidding him make ready for Baghdad, and furnished him with camels and mules and two travelling litters, one for himself and the other for the princess. Moreover, he wrote a letter to his father and committed it to the Chamberlain. Then he took leave of his sister, after he had taken the jewel from her and hung it round his daughter’s neck by a chain of fine gold; and she and her husband set out for Baghdad the same night. Now their caravan was the very one to which Zoulmekan and his friend the stoker had joined themselves, as before related, having waited till the Chamberlain passed them, riding on a dromedary, with his footmen around him. Then Zoulmekan mounted the stoker’s ass and said to the latter, “Do thou mount with me.” But he said, “Not so: I will be thy servant.” Quoth Zoulmekan, “Needs must thou ride awhile.” “It is well,” replied the stoker; “I will ride when I grow tired.” Then said Zoulmekan, “O my brother, thou shalt see how I will do with thee, when I come to my own people.” So they journeyed on till the sun rose, and when it was the hour of the noonday rest, the Chamberlain called a halt, and they alighted and rested and watered their camels. Then he gave the signal for departure and they journeyed for five days, till they came to the city of Hemah, where they made a three days’ halt; then set out again and fared on, till they reached the province of Diarbekir. Here there blew on them the breezes of Baghdad, and Zoulmekan bethought him of his father and mother and his native land and how he was returning to his father without his sister: so he wept and sighed and complained, and his regrets increased on him, and he repeated the following verses:

  How long wilt thou delay from me, beloved one? I wait: And yet

  there comes no messenger with tidings of thy fate.

  Alack, the time of love-delight and peace was brief indeed! Ah,

  that the days of parting thus would of their length abate!

  Take thou my hand and put aside my mantle and thou’lt find My

  body wasted sore; and yet I hide my sad estate.

  And if thou bid me be consoled for thee, “By God,” I say, “I’ll

  ne’er forget thee till the Day that calls up small and

  great!”

  “Leave this weeping and lamenting,” said the stoker, “for we are near the Chamberlain’s tent.” Quoth Zoulmekan, “Needs must I recite somewhat of verse, so haply it may allay the fire of my heart.” “God on thee,” cried the stoker, “leave this lamentation, till thou come to thine own country; then do what thou wilt, and I will be with thee, wherever thou art.” “By Allah,” replied Zoulmekan, “I cannot forbear from this!” Then he set his face towards Baghdad and began to repeat verses. Now the moon was shining brightly and shedding her light on the place, and Nuzhet ez Zeman could not sleep that night, but was wakeful and called to mind her brother and wept. Presently, she heard Zoulmekan weeping and repeating the following verses:

  The southern lightning gleams in the air And rouses in me the old

  despair,

  The grief for a dear one, loved and lost, Who filled me the cup

  of joy whilere.

  It minds me of her who fled away And left me friendless and sick

  and bare.

  O soft-shining lightnings, tell me true, Are the days of

  happiness past fore’er?

  Chide not, O blamer of me, for God Hath cursed me with two things

  hard to bear,

  A friend who left me to pine alone, And a fortune whose smile was

  but a snare.

  The sweet of my life was gone for aye, When fortune against me

  did declare;

  She brimmed me a cup of grief unmixed, And I must drink it and

  never spare.

  Or ever our meeting ‘tide, sweetheart, Methinks I shall die of

  sheer despair,

  I prithee, fortune, bring back the days When we were a happy

  childish pair;

  The days, when we from the shafts of fate, That since have

  pierced us, in safety were!

  Ah, who shall succour the exiled wretch, Who passes the night in

  dread and care,

  And the day in mourning for her whose name, Delight of the

  Age, bespoke her fair?

  The hands of the baseborn sons of shame Have doomed us the wede

  of woe to wear.

  Then he cried out and fell down in a swoon, and when Nuzhet ez Zeman heard his voice in the night, her heart was solaced and she rose and called the chief eunuch, who said to her, “What is thy will?” Quoth she, “Go and fetch me him who recited verses but now.” “I did not hear him,” replied he; “the people are all asleep.” And she said, “Whomsoever thou findest awake, he is the man.” So he went out and sought, but found none awake but the stoker; for Zoulmekan was still insensible, and, Nuzhet ez Zeman, going up to the former, said to him, “Art thou he who recited verses but now, and my lady heard him?” The stoker concluded that the lady was wroth and was afraid and replied, “By Allah, ’twas not I!” “Who then was it?” rejoined the eunuch. “Point him out to me. Thou must know who it was, seeing that thou art awake.” The stoker feared for Zoulmekan and said in himself, “Maybe the eunuch will do him some hurt.” So he answered, “I know not who it was.” “By Allah,” said the eunuch, “thou liest, for there is none awake here but thou! So needs must thou know him.” “By Allah,” replied the stoker, “I tell thee the truth! It must have been some passer-by who recited the verses and disturbed me and aroused me, may God requite him!” Quoth the eunuch, “If thou happen upon him, point him out to me and I will lay hands on him and bring him to the door of my lady’s litter; or do thou take him with thine own hand.” “Go back,” said the stoker, “and I will bring him to thee.” So the eunuch went back to his mistress and said to her, “None knows who it was; it must have been some passer-by.” And she was silent. Meanwhile, Zoulmekan came to himself and saw that the moon had reached the zenith and felt the breath of the breeze that goes before the dawn; whereupon his heart was moved to longing and sadness, and he cleared his throat and was about to recite verses, when the stoker said to him, “What wilt thou do?” “I have a mind to repeat somewhat of verse,” answered Zoulmekan, “that I may allay therewith the fire of my heart.” Quoth the other, “Thou knowest not what befell me, whilst thou wert aswoon, and how I only escaped death by beguiling the eunuch.” “Tell me what happened,” said Zoulrnekan. “Whilst thou wert aswoon,” replied the stoker, “there came up to me but now an eunuch, with a long staff of almond-tree wood in his hand, who looked in all the people’s faces, as they lay asleep, and finding none awake but myself, asked me who it was recited the verses. I told him it was some passer-by; so he went away and God delivered me from him; else had he killed me. But first he said to me, ‘If thou hear him again, bring him to us.’” When Zoulmekan heard this, he wept and said, “Who is it would forbid me to recite? I will surely do so, come what may; for I am near my own country and care for no one.” “Dost thou wish to destroy thyself?” asked the stoker; and Zoulmekan answered, “I cannot help reciting verses.” “Verily,” said the stoker, “I see this will bring about a parting between us here though I had promised myself not to leave thee, till I had brought thee to thy native city and
re-united thee with thy mother and father. Thou hast now been with me a year and a half, and I have never baulked thee or harmed thee in aught. What ails thee then, that thou must needs recite, seeing that we are exceeding weary with travel and watching and all the folk are asleep, for they need sleep to rest them of their fatigue.” But Zoulmekan answered, “I will not be turned from my purpose.” Then grief moved him and he threw off disguise and began to repeat the following verses:

  Halt by the camp and hail the ruined steads by the brake, And

  call on her name aloud; mayhap she will answer make.

  And if for her absence the night of sadness darken on thee, Light