So I told him how it was with me and he wept sore and said to me, “Out on thee! The Apostle of God (whom may He bless and preserve) would not let me sleep this night, because of thee; for he appeared to me in my first sleep and said to me, ‘Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.’ Whereupon I awoke and knowing thee not, went to sleep again; but he came to me a second time and said to me, ‘Woe to thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.’ I awoke a second time, but knew thee not, so went to sleep again; and he came to me a third time and still I knew thee not and went to sleep again. Then he came to me once more and said, ‘Out on thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi!’ After that I dared not go to sleep again, but watched the rest of the night and aroused my people and sent them in all directions in quest of thee.” Then he gave me ten thousand dirhems, saying, “This is for the Khorassani,” and other ten thousand, saying, “Spend freely of this and amend thy case therewith, and set thine affairs in order.” Moreover, he gave me yet thirty thousand dirhems, saying, “Furnish thyself with this, and when the day of estate comes round, come thou to me, that I may invest thee with an office.”
So I took the money and returned home, where I prayed the morning-prayer. Presently came the Khorassani, so I carried him into the house and brought out to him ten thousand dirhems, saying, “Here is thy money.” “It is not my very money,” answered he. “How cometh this?” So I told him the whole story, and he wept and said, “By Allah, hadst thou told me the truth at first, I had not pressed thee! And now, by Allah, I will not accept aught of the money; and thou art quit of it.” So saying, he went away and I set my affairs in order and repaired on the appointed day to the Divan, where I found the Khalif seated. When he saw me, he called me to him and bringing forth to me a paper from under his prayer-carpet, said to me, “This is a patent, conferring on thee the office of Cadi of the western division of the Holy City from the Bab es Selam to the end of the town; and I appoint thee such and such monthly allowances. So fear God (to whom belong might and majesty) and be mindful of the solicitude of His Apostle (whom may He bless and preserve) on thine account.” The folk marvelled at the Khalif’s words and questioned me of their meaning; so I told them the whole story and it spread abroad amongst the people.’
And [quoth he who tells the tale] Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi ceased not to be Cadi of the Holy City, till he died in the days of El Mamoun, the mercy of God be on him!
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE POOR MAN AND HIS GENEROUS FRIEND.
There was once a rich man, who lost all he had and became poor, whereupon his wife counselled him to seek aid of one of his friends. So he betook himself to a certain friend of his and acquainted him with his strait; and he lent him five hundred dinars to trade withal. Now he had aforetime been a jeweller; so he took the money and went to the jewel-bazaar, where he opened a shop to buy and sell. Presently, three men accosted him, as he sat in his shop, and asked for his father. He told them that he was dead, and they said, ‘Did he leave any offspring?’ Quoth the jeweller, ‘He left a son, your servant.’ ‘And who knoweth thee for his son?’ asked they. ‘The people of the bazaar,’ replied he; and they said, ‘Call them together, that they may testify to us that thou art his son.’ So he called them and they bore witness of this; whereupon the three men delivered to him a pair of saddle-bags, containing thirty thousand dinars, besides jewels and bullion, saying, ‘This was deposited with us in trust by thy father.’ Then they went away; and presently there came to him a woman, who sought of him certain of the jewels, worth five hundred dinars, and paid him three thousand for them.
So he took five hundred dinars and carrying them to his friend, who had lent him the money, said to him, ‘Take the five hundred dinars I borrowed of thee; for God hath aided and prospered me.’ ‘Not so,’ quoth the other. ‘I gave them to thee outright, for the love of God; so do thou keep them. And take this paper, but read it not, till thou be at home, and do according to that which is therein.’ So he took the paper and returned home, where he opened it and read therein the following verses:
The men who came to thee at first my kinsmen were, my sire, His
brother and my dam’s, Salih ben Ali is his name.
Moreover, she to whom thou soldst the goods my mother was, And
eke the jewels and the gold, from me, to boot, they came;
Nor, in thus ordering myself to thee, aught did I seek Save of
the taking it from me to spare thee from the shame.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE RUINED MAN WHO BECAME RICH AGAIN THROUGH A DREAM.
There lived once in Baghdad a very wealthy man, who lost all his substance and became so poor, that he could only earn his living by excessive labour. One night, he lay down to sleep, dejected and sick at heart, and saw in a dream one who said to him, ‘Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither and seek it.’ So he set out for Cairo; but, when he arrived there, night overtook him and he lay down to sleep in a mosque. Presently, as fate would have it, a company of thieves entered the mosque and made their way thence into an adjoining house; but the people of the house, being aroused by the noise, awoke and cried out; whereupon the chief of the police came to their aid with his officers. The robbers made off; but the police entered the mosque and finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold of him and beat him with palm rods, till he was well-nigh dead. Then they cast him into prison, where he abode three days, after which the chief of the police sent for him and said to him, ‘Whence art thou?’ ‘From Baghdad,’ answered he. ‘And what brought thee to Cairo?’ asked the magistrate. Quoth the Baghdadi, ‘I saw in a dream one who said to me, “Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither to it.” But when I came hither, the fortune that he promised me proved to be the beating I had of thee.’
The chief of the police laughed, till he showed his jaw-teeth, and said, ‘O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream one who said to me, “There is in Baghdad a house of such a fashion and situate so-and-so, in the garden whereof is a fountain and thereunder a great sum of money buried. Go thither and take it.” Yet I went not; but thou, of thy little wit, hast journeyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which was but an illusion of sleep.’ Then he gave him money, saying, ‘This is to help thee back to thy native land.’ Now the house he had described was the man’s own house in Baghdad; so the latter returned thither, and digging underneath the fountain in his garden, discovered a great treasure; and [thus] God gave him abundant fortune.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
THE KHALIF EL MUTAWEKKIL AND HIS FAVOURITE MEHBOUBEH.
There were in the palace of the Khalif El Mutawekkil ala Allah four thousand concubines, whereof two thousand were Greeks [and other foreigners] and other two thousand native Arabians and Abyssinians; and Obeid ibn Tahir had given him two hundred white girls and a like number of Abyssinian and native girls. Among these latter was a girl of Bassora, Mehboubeh by name, who was of surpassing beauty and elegance and voluptuous grace. Moreover, she played upon the lute and was skilled in singing and making verses and wrote excellent well; so that El Mutawekkil fell passionately in love with her and could not endure from her a single hour. When she saw this, she presumed upon his favour to use him haughtily and capriciously, so that he waxed exceeding wroth with her and forsook her, forbidding the people of the palace to speak with her.
On this wise she abode some days, but the Khalif still inclined to her; and he arose one morning and said to his courtiers, ‘I dreamt, last night, that I was reconciled to Mehboubeh.’ ‘Would God this might be on wake!’ answered they. As they were talking, in came one of the Khalif’s maidservants and whispered him that they had heard a noise of singing and luting in Mehboubeh’s chamber and knew not what this meant. So he rose and entering the harem, went straight to Mehboubeh’s apartment, where he heard her playing wonder-sweetly upon the lute and singing the following verses:
I wander through the halls, but not a so
ul I see, To whom I may
complain or who will speak with me.
It is as though I’d wrought so grievous an offence, No
penitence avails myself therefrom to free.
Will no one plead my cause with a king, who came to me In sleep
and took me back to favour and to gree;
But with the break of day to rigour did revert And cast me off
from him and far away did flee?
When the Khalif heard these verses, he marvelled at the strange coincidence of their dreams and entered the chamber. As soon as she was ware of him, she hastened to throw herself at his feet, and kissing them, said, ‘By Allah, O my lord, this is what I dreamt last night; and when I awoke, I made the verses thou hast heard.’ ‘‘By Allah,’ replied El Mutawekkil, ‘I also dreamt the like!’ Then they embraced and made friends and he abode with her seven days and nights.
Now she had written upon her cheek, in musk, the Khalif’s name, which was Jaafer: and when he saw this, he made the following verses:
One wrote on her cheek, with musk, a name, yea, Jaafer to wit:
My soul be her ransom who wrote on her cheek what I see on
it!
If her fingers, indeed, have traced a single line on her cheek,
I trow, in my heart of hearts full many a line she hath
writ
O thou, whom Jaafer alone of men possesses, may God Grant
Jaafer to drink his fill of the wine of thy beauty and
wit!
When El Mutawekkil died, all his women forgot him save Mehboubeh, who ceased not to mourn for him, till she died and was buried by his side, the mercy of God be on them both!
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
WERDAN THE BUTCHER HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE LADY AND THE BEAR.
There lived once in Cairo, in the days of the Khalif El Hakim bi Amrillah, a butcher named Werdan, who dealt in sheep’s flesh; and there came to him every forenoon a lady and gave him a diner, whose weight was nigh two and a half Egyptian diners, saying, ‘Give me a lamb.’ So he took the money and gave her the lamb, which she delivered to a porter she had with her; and he put it in his basket and she went away with him to her own place. This went on for some time, the butcher profiting a dinar by her every day, till at last he began to be curious about her and said to himself, ‘This woman buys a diner’s worth of meat of me every day, paying ready money, and never misses a day. Verily, this is a strange thing!’ So he took an occasion of questioning the porter, in her absence, and said to him, ‘Whither goest thou every day with yonder woman?’ ‘I know not what to make of her,’ answered the porter; ‘for, every day, after she hath taken the lamb of thee, she buys fresh and dried fruits and wax candles and other necessaries of the table, a dinar’s worth, and takes of a certain Nazarene two flagons of wine, for which she pays him another diner. Then she loads me with the whole and I go with her to the Vizier’s Gardens, where she blindfolds me, so that I cannot see where I set my feet, and taking me by the hand, leads me I know not whither. Presently, she says, “Set down here;” and when I have done so, she gives me an empty basket she has ready and taking my hand, leads me back to the place, where she bound my eyes, and there does off the bandage and gives me ten dirhems.’ ‘God be her helper!’ quoth Werdan; but he redoubled in curiosity about her case; disquietude increased upon him and he passed the night in exceeding restlessness.
Next morning, [quoth Werdan,] she came to me as of wont and taking the lamb, delivered it to the porter and went away. So I gave my shop in charge to a boy and followed her, unseen of her; nor did I cease to keep her in sight, hiding behind her, till she left Cairo and came to the Vizier’s Gardens. Then I hid, whilst she bound the porter’s eyes, and followed her again from place to place, till she came to the mountain and stopped at a place where there was a great stone. Here she made the porter set down his crate, and I waited, whilst she carried him back to the Vizier’s Gardens, after which she returned and taking out the contents of the basket, disappeared behind the stone. Then I went up to the stone and pulling it away, discovered behind it an open trap-door of brass and a flight of steps leading downward. So I descended, little by little, into a long corridor, brilliantly lighted, and followed it, till I came to a [closed] door, as it were the door of a room. I looked about till I discovered a recess, with steps therein; then climbed up and found a little niche with an opening therein giving upon a saloon.
So I looked in and saw the lady cut off the choicest parts of the lamb and laying them in a saucepan, throw the rest to a huge great bear, who ate it all to the last bit. When she had made an end of cooking, she ate her fill, after which she set on wine and fruits and confections and fell to drinking, using a cup herself and giving the bear to drink in a basin of gold, till she was heated with wine, when she put off her trousers and lay down. Thereupon the bear came up to her and served her, whilst she gave him the best of what belongeth to mankind, till he had made an end, when he sat down and rested. Presently, he sprang to her and served her again; and thus he did, till he had furnished half a score courses, and they both fell down in a swoon and abode without motion.
Then said I to myself, “Now is my opportunity,” and taking a knife I had with me, that would cut bones before flesh, went down to them and found them motionless, not a muscle of them moving for their much swink. So I put my knife to the bear’s gullet and bore upon it, till I severed his head from his body, and he gave a great snort like thunder, whereat she started up in alarm and seeing the bear slain and me standing with the knife in my hand, gave such a shriek that I thought the soul had left her body. Then said she, “O Werdan, is this how thou requitest me my favours?” “O enemy of thine own soul,” replied I, “dost thou lack of men that thou must do this shameful thing?” She made me no answer, but bent down to the bear, and finding his head divided from his body, said to me, “O Werdan, which were the liefer to thee, to hearken to what I shall say to thee and be the means of thine own safety and enrichment to the end of thy days, or gainsay me and so bring about thine own destruction?” “I choose rather to hearken unto thee,” answered I. “Say what thou wilt.” “Then,” said she, “kill me, as thou hast killed this bear, and take thy need of this treasure and go thy way.” Quoth I, “I am better than this bear. Return to God the Most High and repent, and I will marry thee, and we will live on this treasure the rest of our lives.” “O Werdan,” rejoined she, “far be it from me! How shall I live after him? An thou kill me not, by Allah, I will assuredly do away thy life! So leave bandying words with me, or thou art a lost man. This is all I have to say to thee and peace be on thee.” Then said I, “I will slay thee, and thou shalt go to the malediction of God.” So saying, I caught her by the hair and cut her throat; and she went to the malediction of God and of the angels and of all mankind.
Then I examined the place and found there gold and pearls and jewels, such as no king could bring together. So I filled the porter’s crate with as much as I could carry and covered it with the clothes I had on me. Then I shouldered it and going up out of the underground place, set out homeward and fared on, till I came to the gate of Cairo, where I fell in with ten of the Khalif’s body-guard, followed by El Hakim himself, who said to me. “Ho, Werdan!” “At thy service, O King,” replied I. “Hast thou killed the woman and the bear?” asked he and I answered, “Yes.” Quoth he, “Set down the basket and fear naught, for all the treasure thou hast with thee is thine, and none shall dispute it with thee.” So I set down the basket, and he uncovered it and looked at it; then said to me, “Tell me their case, though I know it, as if I had been present with you.” So I told him all that had passed and he said, “Thou hast spoken the truth, O Werdan. Come now with me to the treasure.”
So I returned with him to the cavern, where he found the trap-door closed and said to me, “O Werdan, lift it; none but thou can open the treasure, for it is enchanted in thy name and favour.” “By Allah,” answered I, “I cannot open it;” but he said,
“Go up to it, trusting in the blessing of God.” So I called upon the name of God the Most High and going up to the trap-door, put my hand to it; whereupon it came up, as it had been the lightest of things. Then said the Khalif, “Go down and bring up what is there; for none but one of thy name and favour and quality hath gone down there since the place was made, and the slaying of the bear and the woman was appointed to be at thy hand. This was recorded with me and I was awaiting its fulfilment.” Accordingly, I went down and brought up all the treasure, whereupon the Khalif sent for beasts of burden and carried it away, after giving me the porter’s crate, with what was therein. So I carried it home and opened me a shop in the market. And [quoth he who tells the tale] this market is still extant and is known as Werdan’s Market.
One Thousand and One Nights Page 283