One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  Her song moved Noureddin to the utmost wonder and delight and he answered her as follows:

  The face o’ the sun is not unveiled in the darkness of the night, But is the far horizon’s marge the full moon hides its light,

  Nor doth her forehead meet the eye o’ the morning, but. outfaced By contrast, to the break of day for refuge it takes flight.

  Take of the currents of my tears, as, chain on chain, they fall, And on the readiest way of ways, the tale of love recite.

  Oft unto her, who shoots at me her arrows, have I said, ‘Hold thou thy hand; indeed my heart is cleft in sunder quite.

  An if unto the River Nile my tears may likened be, Meseems the love I bear to thee El Melec should be hight.’

  Quoth she, ‘Then bring me all thy good.’ ‘Take it,’ said I and she, ‘And thy sleep.’ ‘[Take it] from mine eyes,’ I answered her forthright.

  When she heard Noureddin’s words and noted the beauty of his eloquence, she was transported and her wit was dazed and love of him got hold upon her whole heart. So she pressed him to her bosom and fell to kissing him after the manner of doves billing, whilst he returned her caresses; but the vantage is to the first comer. When she had made an end of kissing, she took the lute and recited the following verses:

  Ah, woe’s us for a blamer, to censure ever prone, Whether or no of passion to him I make my moan!

  O thou that dost reject me, I had not thought that I Should in thy love abasement meet with, and thou mine own.

  I used to rail at lovers for love, and now to those, Who blame thee, my abasement for thee I have made known.

  The votaries of passion whilom I blamed; but now I do excuse all lovers for passion overthrown;

  And if, for thine estrangement, distress be sore on me, God in thy name, O Ali, I’ll pray and thine alone.

  And also these:

  Quoth his lovers, ‘Except of the nectar so rare of his mouth he vouchsafe us to drink, debonair,

  To the Lord of all creatures we’ll make our complaint And “O Ali!” we’ll say with one voice in our prayer.’

  Noureddin marvelled at the fluency of her tongue and praised her grace and exceeding seductiveness; whereupon she rose and putting off all that was upon her of [outer] clothes and trinkets, sat down on his knees and kissed him between the eyes and on the mole of his cheek. Then she gave him all she had put off, saying, ‘O beloved of my heart, the gift is after the measure of the giver’s capacity.’ So he accepted this from her and gave it back to her and kissed her on the mouth and cheeks and eyes.

  When this was done, (for nought endureth save God, the Living, the Eternal, Provider of the peacock and the owl), Noureddin rose from the place of session and stood upon his feet, for the darkness was now fallen and the stars shone out; whereupon quoth the damsel to him, ‘Whither away, O my lord?’ And he said, ‘To my father’s house.’ Then the sons of the merchants conjured him to pass the night with them, but he refused and mounting his mule, rode, without stopping, till he reached his father’s house, where his mother met him and said to him, ‘O my son, what hath kept thee abroad till this hour? By Allah, thou hast troubled thy father and myself by thine absence from us, and our hearts have been occupied with thee.’ Then she came up to him, to kiss him on his mouth, and smelling the fumes of the wine, said, ‘O my son, how is this? Art thou, after prayer and worship, become a wine-bibber and a transgressor of His word to whom belong creation and commandment?’ But Noureddin threw himself down on the bed and lay there.

  Presently in came his father and said:, ‘What ails Noureddin to lie thus?’ And his mother answered, saying, ‘It would seem his head irketh him for the air of the garden.’ So Tajeddin went up to his son, to question him of his ailment and salute him, and smelt the wine he had drunk. Now he loved not wine-drinkers; so he said to Noureddin, ‘Out on thee, O my son! Is folly come to such a pass with thee, that thou drinkest wine?’ When Noureddin heard this, he raised his hand, being yet in his drunkenness, and dealt him a buffet. As fate would leave it, the blow lit on his father’s right eye [and struck it out] and it ran down on his cheek; whereupon he fell down in a swoon and lay therein awhile. They sprinkled rose-water on him till he came to himself, when he would have beaten Noureddin; but his wife withheld him, and he swore, by the oath of divorcement from her, that, as soon as it was day, he would assuredly cut off his son’s right hand. When she heard her husband’s words, her breast was straitened and she feared for her son and ceased not to soothe and appease Tajeddin, till sleep overcame him.

  Then she waited till the moon was risen, when she went in to her son, whose drunkenness had now ceased from him, and said to him, ‘O Noureddin’ what is this foul thing thou hast done with thy father?’ ‘And what did I with him?’ asked he. Quoth she, ‘Thou dealtest him a buffet on the right eye and struckest it out; and he hath sworn by the oath of divorcement that, as soon as it is day, he will without fail cut off thy right hand.’ Noureddin repented him of that which he had done, whenas repentance profited him nothing, and his mother said to him, ‘O my son, this repentance will not profit thee; nor will aught serve thee but that thou arise forthright and seek safety in flight. Go forth the house privily and take refuge with one of thy friends and there await what God shall do, for He changeth case after case.’

  Then she opened a chest and taking out a purse of a hundred dinars, said to Noureddin, ‘O my son, take these dinars and provide thyself therewith, and when they are at an end, send and give me to know thereof that I may send thee other than these, and at the same time send me news of thyself privily. It may be God will decree thee relief and thou shalt return to thy dwelling.’ And she bade him farewell and wept passing sore. Noureddin took the purse and was about to go forth, when he espied a great purse containing a thousand dinars, which his mother had forgotten beside the chest. So he took this also and tying the two purses about his middle, set out before dawn in the direction of Boulac, where he arrived whenas the day broke and all creatures arose, attesting the unity of God the Opener [of the gates of sustenance and mercy] and went forth each upon his several business, to suffer that which God had allotted to him.

  He walked on along the river-bank till he saw a ship with her gangway out and her four grapnels made fast to the land. The folk were going up into her and coming down from her, and Noureddin, seeing some sailors standing there, asked them whither they were bound. ‘To the city of Rosetta,’ answered they; and he said, ‘Take me with you.’ Quoth they, ‘Welcome and fair welcome to thee, O goodly youth!’ So he betook himself forthright to the market and buying what he needed of victual and bedding and covering [for the voyage,] returned to the port and went on board the ship, which was ready to sail and tarried with him but a little while before it weighed anchor and fared on, without stopping, till it reached Rosetta, where Noureddin saw a small boat going to Alexandria. So he embarked in it and traversing the [Mehmoudiyeh] canal, fared on till he came to a bridge called El Jami, where he landed and entered Alexandria by the gate called the Gate of the Lote-tree.

  God protected him, so that none of those who stood At the gate saw him, and he entered the city, which he found a strongly fortified city, goodly of pleasaunces, delightful to its inhabitants and inviting to abide therein. The season of winter had departed from it with its cold and the season of spring was come to it with its roses: its flowers were in blossom and its trees in full leaf; its fruits were ripe and its waters welled forth. Indeed, it was a city goodly of ordinance and construction; its folk were of the best of men, and when the gate thereof were shut, its people were in safety. And it was even as is said of it in the following verses:

  ‘Describe Alexandria, I pray,’ Quoth I to a comrade one day,

  A man of glib speech and quick wit. ‘’Tis a fair frontier town,’ did he say.

  Quoth I, ‘Is there living therein?’ And he, ‘If the wind blow that way.’

  Or as saith one of the poets:

  Alexandria’s a frontier seat; The water of its lips is s
weet. How fair the coming to it is, So one therein no raven meet!

  Noureddin walked about the city till he came to the merchants’ bazaar, whence he passed on to the bazaar of the money-changers and so on in turn to those of the confectioners and fruiterers and druggists, marvelling, as he went at the city, for that its qualities accorded with its name. As he walked in the druggists’ bazaar, an old man came down from his shop and saluting him, took him by the hand and carried him to a fair by-street, swept and sprinkled, whereon the zephyr blew and was pleasant and the leaves of the trees overshaded it. Therein stood three houses and at the upper end a mansion, whose foundations were stablished in the water and its roofs rose up to the confines of the sky. The space before it was paved with marble, swept and sprinkled, and those who approached it smelt the fragrance of flowers, borne on the zephyr, which breathed upon the place, an it were one of the gardens of Paradise.

  The old man carried Noureddin into the house and set food before him, whereof he ate with him. When they had made an end of eating, the druggist said to him, ‘When camest thou hither from Cairo?’ And Noureddin old man, ‘What is thy name?’ And he replied, ‘Ali Noureddin.’ ‘O my son, O Noureddin,’ said the druggist, ‘be the triple divorcement incumbent on me, if thou leave me so long as thou abidest in this town; and I will set thee apart a place wherein to dwell.’ Quoth Noureddin, ‘O my lord, let me know more of thee.’ And the other answered, ‘Know, O my son, that years ago I came to Cairo with merchandise, which I sold there and bought other, and I had occasion for a thousand dinars. So thy father paid them down for me, for all he had no knowledge of me, and would take no security of me, but had patience with me till I returned hither and sent him the amount by one of my servants, together with a present. I saw thee, whilst thou wast little, and if it please God the Most High, I will repay thee somewhat of the kindness thy father did me.’ When Noureddin heard the old man’s story, he smiled and showed joy and pulling out the purse of a thousand dinars, gave it to his host and said to him, ‘Take charge of this for me, against I buy me therewith somewhat of merchandise whereon to trade.’

  Then he abode some days in Alexandria, eating and drinking and making merry and taking his pleasure in its thoroughfares, till he had made an end of the hundred dinars he had kept by way of spending-money; whereupon he repaired to the old druggist, to take of him somewhat of the thousand dinars to spend, but found him not in his shop and sat down there, to await his return. As he sat thus, gazing right and left and amusing himself with watching the merchants and passers-by, there came into the bazaar a Persian riding on a mule and having behind him a damsel, as she were virgin silver or a turbot in a tank or a gazelle in the desert. Her face outvied the shining sun and she had bewitching eyes and breasts of ivory, teeth of pearl, slender body and dimpled sides and legs like fat sheep’s tails; and indeed she was perfect in beauty and grace and symmetry, even as saith one, describing her:

  As she wished, she was created, after such a wise that lo, She in beauty’s mould was fashioned, perfect, neither less nor mo’.

  In her cheeks the roses redden for confusion and the fruit On the sapling of her figure makes a fair and stately show.

  In her face the full moon glitters and the branch is as her shape: Musk her breath is, nor midst mortals is her equal, high or low.

  ’Tis as if she had been moulded out of water of pure pearls: In each member of her beauty is a very moon, I trow.

  The Persian lighted down from his mule and making the damsel alight also, called the broker and said to him, ‘Take this damsel and cry her for sale in the market.’ So he fetched a stool of ebony, inlaid with ivory, and setting it amiddleward the bazaar, seated her thereon. Then he raised her veil and discovered a face as it were a Median targe or a sparkling star: and indeed she was like the full moon, when it appears on its fourteenth night, accomplished to the utmost in surpassing beauty. As saith the poet:

  The full moon ignorantly vied in beauty with her face, But was eclipsed and split in twain for wrath at its disgrace;

  And if the willow-wand be fit to even with her shape, Perish her hands who is become o’ the faggot-bearing race!

  And how well saith another:

  Say to the fair in the muffler laced and wrought with gold, ‘Hark ye! What hast thou done with a pious man was like a monk to be?’

  The gleam of the veil and the brilliancy of thy visage under it The hosts of the darkness put to rout and cause them turn and flee;

  And when my glance cometh to steal a look at thy cheek so fresh and fair, Its guardian sprites with a shooting star still cast at them and me.

  Then said the broker to the merchants, ‘How much do ye bid for the pearl of the diver and prize of the fowler?’ Quoth one, ‘She is mine for a hundred dinars.’ And another said, ‘Two hundred,’ and a third, ‘Three hundred;’ and they ceased not to bid, one against another, till they made her price nine hundred and fifty dinars, and there the biddings stopped. Then the broker went up to the Persian and said to him, ‘The biddings for this thy slave-girl have reached nine hundred and fifty dinars: wilt thou sell her at that price and take the money?’ ‘Doth she consent to this?’ asked the Persian. ‘I desire to consult her wishes, for I fell sick on my journey hither and she tended me with all possible care, wherefore I swore not to sell her but to him of whom she should approve, and I have put her sale in her own hand. So do thou consult her and if she say, “I consent,” sell her to whom thou wilt: but if she say “No,” sell her not.’

  So the broker went up to her and said to her, ‘Know, O princess of fair ones, that thy master putteth thy sale in thine own hands, and thy price hath reached nine hundred and fifty dinars; dost thou give me leave to sell thee?’ ‘Show me him who is minded to buy me,’ answered she, ‘before thou clinch the bargain.’ So he brought her up to one of the merchants, a very old and decrepit man, and she looked at him awhile, then turned to the broker and said to him, ‘O broker, art thou mad or afflicted in thy wit?’ ‘Why dost thou ask me this, O princess of fair ones?’ said he. And she answered, ‘Is it permitted of God to sell the like of me to yonder decrepit old man, who saith of his wife’s case the following verses:

  Quoth she to me, — and sore enraged for wounded pride was she, For she in sooth had bidden me to that which might not be, —

  “An if thou swine me not forthright, as one should swive his wife, If thou be made a cuckold straight, reproach it not to me.

  Meseems thy yard is made of wax, for very flaccidness; For when I rub it with my hand, it softens instantly.”

  And quoth he likewise of his yard:

  I leave a yard that sleeps on base and shameful wise, Whenever one I love with my desire complies;

  But, when I’m by myself, at home, it’s all agog To thrust and ply its lone the amorous exercise.

  And again quoth he thereof:

  I have an ill yard, passing froward, to wit: Him who honoureth it, with reproach it doth quit.

  If I sleep, it stands up; if I rise, it lies down; God no ruth have on him who hath ruth upon it!’

  When the old merchant heard this scurvy gibing from the damsel, he was exceeding wroth and said to the broker, ‘O unluckiest of brokers, thou hast not brought this ill-conditioned wench into the market but to flout me and make mock of me before the merchants.’ Then the broker took her aside and said to her, ‘O my lady, be not lacking in manners. The old man whom thou didst mock at is the syndic of the bazaar and inspector of weights and measures thereof and one of the council of the merchants.’ But she laughed and said:

  ‘It behoveth the folk that bear rule in our time, Yea, ’tis one of the duties of magistrateship,

  To hang up the chief of police o’er his door And beat the inspector of weights with a whip.

  By Allah, O my lord,’ added she, ‘I will not be sold to yonder old man; so sell me to other than him, for belike he will be abashed at me and sell me again and I shall become a servant and it beseems not that I sully myself with menial service; and in
deed thou knowest that the matter of my sale is committed to myself.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered he and carried her to one of the chief merchants. ‘How sayst thou, O my lady?’ asked he. hundred and fifty dinars?’ She looked at him and seeing him to be an old man, with a dyed beard, said to the broker, ‘Art thou mad, that thou wouldst sell me to this worn-out old man? Am I cotton refuse or threadbare rags that thou marchest me about from graybeard to graybeard, each like a wall ready to fall or an Afrit smitten down of a [shooting] star? As for the first, the poet had him in mind when he said:

  ‘I sought of a fair maid to kiss her lips of coral red, But, “No, by Him who fashioned things from nothingness!” she said.

  “Unto the white of hoary hairs I never had a mind, And shall my mouth be stuffed, forsooth, with cotton, ere I’m dead?”

  And how goodly is the saying of the poet:

  They say that hoary hair is as a shining light, The face with venerance and lustre that doth dight;

  Yet, till the writ of eld appear upon my crown, I hope I may not lack o’ the colour of the night.

  Although the beard of him, who’s hoary grown, should be His book i’ the world to come, I would not choose it white.

  And yet goodlier is the saying of another:

  A guest unhonoured on my head hath stolen by surprise, With my side-locks the sword than he had dealt on milder wise.

  Begone from me, O whiteness foul, wherein no whiteness is! Indeed, than very darkness’ self thou’rt blacker in mine eyes.

  As for the other, he is a reprobate and a lewd fellow and a blackener of the face of hoariness; he acts the foulest of lies; and the tongue of his case reciteth the following verses:

  Quoth she to me, “I see thou dy’st thy hoariness;” and I, “I do but hide it from thy sight, O thou mine ear and eye!”

  She laughed out mockingly and said, “A wonder ’tis indeed! Thou so abounded in deceit that even thy hair’s a lie.”