One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  I am enamoured of a fawn with black and languorous eyes; The

  willow-branches, as he goes, are jealous of him still.

  Me he rejects and others ‘joy his favours in my stead. This is

  indeed the grace of God He gives to whom He will.

  As soon as he had finished his recitation, he sang the following verse in reply:

  My salutation to the shape that through the wede doth show And to

  the roses in the cheeks’ full-flowering meads that blow!

  When she heard this, her inclination for him redoubled and she rose and lifted the curtain; and Alaeddin, seeing her, repeated these verses:

  She shineth forth, a moon, and bends, a willow-wand, And breathes

  out ambergris and gazes, a gazelle.

  Meseems as if grief loved my heart and when from her Estrangement

  I abide, possession to it fell.

  Thereupon she came forward, swinging her hips and swaying gracefully from side to side with a shape the handiwork of Him whose bounties are hidden, and each of them stole a glance at the other, that cost them a thousand regrets. Then, for that the arrows of her glances overcame his heart, he repeated the following verses:

  The moon of the heavens she spied and called to my thought The

  nights of our loves in the meadows under her shine.

  Yea, each of us saw a moon, but, sooth to say, It was her

  eyes that I saw and she saw mine.

  Then she drew near him, and when there remained but two paces between them, he repeated these verses:

  She took up three locks of her hair and spread them out one night

  And straight three nights discovered at once unto my sight.

  Then did she turn her visage up to the moon of the sky And showed

  me two moons at one season, both burning clear and bright.

  Then said he to her, ‘Keep off from me, lest thou infect me.’ Whereupon she uncovered her wrist to him, and he saw that it was cleft [like a peach] and its whiteness was as the whiteness of silver. Then said she, ‘Hold off from me, thou, for thou art stricken with leprosy, and belike thou wilt infect me.’ ‘Who told thee I was a leper?’ asked he, and she said, ‘The old woman.’ Quoth he, ‘It was she told me that thou wast afflicted with elephantiasis.’ So saying, he bared his arms and showed her that his skin was like virgin silver, whereupon she pressed him to her bosom and they clipped one another. Then she took him and lying down on her back, did off her trousers, whereupon that which his father had left him rose up [in rebellion] against him and he said, ‘To it, O elder of yards, O father of nerves!’ And putting his hands to her flanks, set the nerve of sweetness to the mouth of the cleft and thrust on to the wicket-gate. His passage was by the gate of victories [or openings] and after this he entered the Monday market and those of Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and finding the carpet after the measure of the estrade, he plied [or turned] the box within its sheath [or cover] till he came to [the end of] it. When it was morning, he exclaimed, ‘Alas for delight that is not fulfilled! The raven takes it and flies away!’ ‘What means this saying?’ asked she, and he answered, ‘O my lady, I have but this hour to abide with thee.’ Quoth she, ‘Who saith so?’ and he, ‘Thy father made me give him a bond to pay ten thousand dinars to thy dowry; and except I pay it this very day, they will lay me in prison therefor in the Cadi’s house; and now my hand lacketh one para of the sum.’ ‘O my lord,’ said she, ‘is the marriage bond in thy hand or in theirs?’ ‘In mine,’ answered he, ‘but I have nothing.’ Quoth she, ‘The matter is easy; fear nothing. Take these hundred dinars; if I had more, I would give thee what thou lackest; but my father, for his love of my cousin, hath transported all his good, even to my trinkets, from my lodging to his. But when they send thee a serjeant of the court and the Cadi and my father bid thee divorce, answer thou, “By what code is it right that I should marry at nightfall and divorce in the morning?” Then kiss the Cadi’s hand and give him a present, and in like manner kiss the Assessors’ hands and give each of them half a score dinars. So they will all speak with thee and if they say to thee, “Why dost thou not divorce her and take the thousand dinars and the mule and suit of clothes, according to contract?” do thou answer, “Every hair of her head is worth a thousand dinars to me and I will never put her away, neither will I take a suit of clothes nor aught else.” If the Cadi say to thee, “Then pay down the dowry,” do thou reply, “I am straitened at this present;” whereupon he and the Assessors will deal friendly with thee and allow thee time to pay.’ Whilst they were talking, the Cadi’s officer knocked at the door; so Alaeddin went down and the man said to him, ‘The Cadi cites thee to answer thy father-in-law’s summons.’ Alaeddin gave him five dinars and said to him, ‘O serjeant, by what code am I bound to marry at night and divorce next morning?’ ‘By none of ours,’ answered the serjeant; ‘and if thou be ignorant of the law, I will act as thine advocate.’ Then they went to the court and the Cadi said to Alaeddin, ‘Why dost thou not divorce the woman and take what falls to thee by the contract?’ With this he went up to the Cadi and kissing his hand, put in it fifty dinars and said, ‘O our lord the Cadi, by what code is it right that I should marry at night and divorce in the morning in my own despite?’ ‘Divorce on compulsion,’ replied the Cadi, ‘is sanctioned by no school of the Muslims.’ Then said the lady’s father, ‘If thou wilt not divorce, pay me the ten thousand dinars, her dowry.’ Quoth Alaeddin, ‘Give me three days’ time.’ But the Cadi said, ‘Three days is not enough; he shall give thee ten.’ So they agreed to this and bound him to pay the dowry or divorce after ten days. Then he left them and taking meat and rice and butter and what else of food he needed, returned to his wife and told her what had passed; whereupon she said, ‘Between night and day, wonders may happen: and God bless him who saith:

  Be mild what time thou’rt ta’en with anger and despite And

  patient, if there fall misfortune on thy head.

  Indeed, the nights are quick and great with child by time And of

  all wond’rous things are hourly brought to bed.

  Then she rose and made ready food and brought the tray, and they ate and drank and made merry awhile. Presently, Alaeddin besought her to let him hear some music; so she took the lute and played a measure, that would have made the very rock dance for delight, and the strings cried out, in ecstasy, ‘O Loving One!’ after which she passed into a livelier measure. As they were thus passing the time in mirth and delight, there came a knocking at the door and Zubeideh said to Alaeddin, ‘Go and see who is at the door.’ So he went down and finding four dervishes standing without, said to them, ‘What do you want?’ ‘O my lord,’ answered they, ‘we are foreign dervishes, the food of whose souls is music and dainty verse, and we would fain take our pleasure with thee this night. On the morrow we will go our way, and with God the Most High be thy reward; for we adore music and there is not one of us but hath store of odes and songs and ballads.’ ‘I must consult [my wife],’ answered he and returned and told Zubeideh, who said, ‘Open the door to them.’ So he went down again and bringing them up, made them sit down and welcomed them. Then he brought them food, but they would not eat and said, ‘O my lord, our victual is to magnify God with out hearts and hear music with our ears: and God bless him who saith:

  We come for your company only, and not for your feasts; For eating for eating’s sake is nought but a fashion of beasts.

  Just now,’ added they, ‘we heard pleasant music here; but when we knocked, it ceased; and we would fain know whether the player was a slave-girl, white of black, or a lady.’ ‘It was this my wife,’ answered he and told them all that had befallen him, adding, ‘My father-in-law hath bound me to pay a dowry of ten thousand dinars for her and they have given me ten days’ time.’ ‘Have no care and think nought but good,’ said one of the dervishes; ‘for I am head of the convent and have forty dervishes under my hand. I will gather thee from them the ten thousand dinars and thou shalt pay thy father-in-law the
dowry. But now bid thy wife make us music, that we may be heartened and solaced, for to some music is food, to others medicine and to others refreshment.’ Now these four dervishes were none other than the Khalif Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier Jaafer the Barmecide and Abou Nuwas ben Hani and Mesrour the headsman; and the reason of their coming thither was that the Khalif, being heavy at heart, had called his Vizier and signified to him his wish to go forth and walk about the city, to divert himself. So they all four donned dervish habits and went out and walked about, till they came to Zubeideh’s house and hearing music, were minded to know the cause. They spent the night in mirth and harmony and discourse, till the morning, when the Khalif laid a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet and taking leave of Alaeddin, went his way, he and his companions. Presently, Zubeideh lifted the carpet and finding the hundred dinars, gave them to her husband, saying, ‘Take these hundred dinars that I have found under the prayer-carpet; the dervishes must have laid them there, without our knowledge.’ So he took the money and repairing to the market, bought meat and rice and butter and so forth. When it was night, he lighted the candled and said to Zubeideh, ‘The dervishes have not brought the ten thousand dinars that they promised me: but indeed they are poor men.’ As they were talking, the dervishes knocked at the door and she said, ‘Go down and open to them.’ So he went down and bringing them up, said to them, ‘Have you brought me the ten thousand dinars?’ ‘We have not been able to get aught thereof as yet,’ answered they, ‘but fear nothing: to-morrow, God willing, we will make an alchymic operation for thee. But now bid thy wife play her best to us and gladden our hearts, for we love music.’ So she made them music, that would have caused the very rocks to dance; and they passed the night in mirth and converse and good cheer, till the morning appeared with its light and shone, when they took leave of Alaeddin and went their way, after laying other hundred dinars under the carpet. They continued to visit him thus every night for nine nights, and each morning the Khalif put a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet, till the tenth night, when they came not. Now the reason for their failure to come was that the Khalif had sent to a great merchant, saying to him, ‘Bring me fifty loads of stuffs, such as come from Cairo, each worth a thousand dinars, and write on each bale its price; and bring me also a male Abyssinian slave.’ The merchant did the bidding of the Khalif, who write a letter to Alaeddin, as from his father Shemseddin, and committed it to the slave, together with the fifty loads and a basin and ewer of gold and other presents, saying to him, ‘Take these bales and what else and go to such and such a quarter and enquire for Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, at the house of the Provost of the merchants.’ So the slave took the letter and the goods and went out on his errand.

  Meanwhile the lady’s first husband went to her father and said to him, ‘Come, let us go to Alaeddin and make him divorce my cousin.’ So they set out, and when they came to the street in which Zubeideh’s house stood, they found fifty mules, laden with stuffs, and a black slave riding on a she-mule. So they said to him, ‘Whose goods are these?’ ‘They belong to my lord Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat,’ answered he. ‘His father equipped him with merchandise and sent him on a journey to Baghdad; but the Bedouins fell on him and took all he had. So when the news of his despoilment reached his father, he despatched me to him with these fifty loads, in place of those he had lost, besides a mule laden with fifth thousand dinars and a parcel of clothes worth much money and a cloak of sables and a basin and ewer of gold.’ When the old merchant heard this, he said, ‘He whom thou seekest is my son-in-law and I will show thee his house.’ Now Alaeddin was sitting in great concern, when one knocked at the door, and he said, ‘O Zubeideh, God is all-knowing! Thy father hath surely sent me an officer from the Cadi or the Chief of the Police.’ ‘Go down,’ said she, ‘and see what it is.’ So he went down and opening the door, found his father-in-law, with an Abyssinian slave, dusky-hued and pleasant of favour, riding on a mule. When the slave saw him, he alighted and kissed his hands: and Alaeddin said, ‘What dost thou want?’ Quoth he, ‘I am the slave of my load Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, son of Shemseddin, Provost of the merchants of Cairo, who has sent me to him with this charge.’ Then he gave him the letter and Alaeddin, opening it, read what follows:

  Harkye, my letter, when my beloved sees thee, Kiss thou the earth

  before him and his shoes.

  Look thou go softly and hasten not nor hurry, For in his hands

  are my life and my repose.

  Then after the usual salutations from Shemseddin to his son, the letter proceeded thus: ‘Know, O my son, that news hath reached me of the slaughter of thy men and the plunder of thy baggage; so I send thee herewith fifty loads of Egyptian stuffs, together with a suit of clothes and a cloak of sables and an ewer and basin of gold. Fear no evil and be not anywise troubled, for, O my son, the goods thou hast lost were the ransom of thy life. Thy mother and the people of the house are well and in good case and send thee many greetings. Moreover, O my son, I hear that they have married thee, by way of intermediation, to the lady Zubeideh the Lutanist and have imposed on thee a dowry of ten thousand dinars; wherefore I send thee also fifty thousand dinars by thy slave Selim, the bearer of these presents, whereout thou mayest pay the dowry and provide thyself with the rest.’ When Alaeddin had made an end of reading the letter, he took possession of the goods and turning to the old merchant, said to him, ‘O my father-in-law, take the ten thousand dinars, thy daughter’s dowry, and take also the loads of goods and dispose of them, and thine be the profit; only return me the cost-price.’ ‘Nay, by Allah,’ answered he, ‘I will take nothing; and as for thy wife’s dowry, do thou settle it with her.’ Then they went in to Zubeideh, after the goods had been brought in, and she said to her father, ‘O my father, whose goods are these?’ ‘They belong to thy husband Alaeddin,’ answered he; ‘his father hath sent them to him in place of those of which the Bedouins spoiled him. Moreover, he hath sent him fifty thousand dinars and a parcel of clothes and a cloak of sables and a riding mule and an ewer and basin of gold. As for the dower, that is thine affair.’ Thereupon Alaeddin rose and opening the chest [of money] gave her her dowry. Then said the lady’s cousin, ‘O my uncle, let him divorce to me my wife;’ but the old man replied, ‘This may never be now, for the marriage-tie is in his hand.’ With this the young man went out, sore afflicted, and returning home, fell sick, for he had received his death-blow; so he took to his bed and presently died. But as for Alaeddin, he went to the market and buying what victual he needed, made a banquet as usual against the night, saying to Zubeideh, ‘See these lying dervishes; they promised us and broke their promise.’ Quoth she, ‘Thou art the son of a Provost of the merchants yet did thy hand lack of a para; how then should it be with poor dervishes?’ ‘God the Most High hath enabled us to do without them,’ answered Alaeddin; ‘but never again will I open the door to them.’ ‘Why so,’ asked she, ‘seeing that their coming brought us good luck, and moreover, they put a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet for us every night? So needs must thou open to them, if they come.’ So when the day departed with its light and the night came, they lighted the candles and he said to her, ‘Come, Zubeideh, make us music.’ At this moment some one knocked at the door, and she said, ‘Go and see who is at the door.’ So he went down and opened it and seeing the dervishes, said, ‘Welcome to the liars! Come up.’ Accordingly, they went up with him, and he made them sit down and brought them the tray of food. So they ate and drank and made merry and presently said to him, ‘O my lord, our hearts have been troubled for thee: what hath passed between thee and thy father-in-law?’ ‘God hath compensated us beyond our desire,’ answered he. ‘By Allah,’ rejoined they, ‘we were in fear for thee and nought kept us from thee but our lack of money.’ Quoth he, ‘My Lord hath vouchsafed me speedy relief; for my father hath sent me fifty thousand dinars and fifty loads of stuffs, each worth a thousand dinars, besides an Abyssinian slave and a riding mule and a suit of clothes and a basin and an ewer of gold. Moreover, I hav
e made my peace with my father-in- law and my wife is confirmed to me; so praised be God for this!’ Presently the Khalif rose to do an occasion; whereupon Jaafer turned to Alaeddin and said to him, ‘Look to thy manners, for thou art in the presence of the Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘How have I failed in good breeding before the Commander of the Faithful,’ asked he, ‘and which of you is he?’ Quoth Jaafer, ‘He who went out but now is the Commander of the Faithful and I am the Vizier Jaafer: this is Mesrour the headsman, and this other is Abou Nuwas ben Hani. And now, O Alaeddin, use thy reason and bethink thee how many days’ journey it is from Cairo hither.’ ‘Five-and-forty days’ journey,’ answered he, and Jaafer rejoined, ‘Thy baggage was stolen but ten days ago; so how could the news have reached thy father, and how could he pack thee up other goods and send them to thee five-and-forty days’ journey in ten days’ time?’ ‘O my lord,’ said Alaeddin, ‘and whence then came they?’ ‘From the Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Jaafer, ‘of his much affection for thee.’ As he spoke, the Khalif entered and Alaeddin, rising, kissed the ground before him and said, ‘God keep thee, O Commander of the Faithful, and give thee long life, so the folk may not lack thy bounty and beneficence!’ ‘O Alaeddin,’ replied the Khalif, ‘let Zubeideh play us an air, by way of thank-offering for thy deliverance.’ So she played him the rarest of measures on the lute, till the very stones shook for delight and the strings cried out for ecstasy, ‘O Loving One!’ They spent the night after the merriest fashion, and in the morning, the Khalif said to Alaeddin, ‘Come to the Divan to-morrow.’ ‘I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he, ‘so it please God and thou be well and in good case.’ So on the morrow he took ten trays and putting a costly present on each, went up with them to the palace. As the Khalif was sitting on the throne, Alaeddin appeared at the door of the Divan, repeating the following verses: