One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  The wind blew fair for them and they sailed on, without hindrance, till they reached the city of France and landing with the princess, carried her to her father, who received her, seated on the throne of his kingship. As soon as he saw her, he said to her, ‘Out on thee, O traitress! What ailed thee to leave the faith of thy forefathers and the safeguard of the Messiah, on whom is our reliance, and follow after the faith of the vagabonds, to wit, the faith of Islam, the which arose with the sword against the Cross and the Images?’ ‘I am not at fault,’ replied Meryem. ‘I went out by night to the church, to visit the Lady Mary and seek a blessing of her, when there fell upon me, at unawares, a band of Muslim robbers, who gagged me and bound me fast and carrying me on board the bark, set sail with me for their own country. However, I beguiled them and talked with them of their religion, till they loosed my bonds; and before I knew what was toward, thy men overtook me and delivered me. And by the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith and the Cross and Him who was crucified thereof I rejoiced with an exceeding joy in my release from them and my bosom expanded and I was glad fob my deliverance from the bondage of the Muslims!’ ‘Thou liest, O shameless baggage!’ rejoined the king. ‘By the virtue of that which is revealed of prohibition and allowance in the manifest evangel, I will assuredly slay thee after the foulest fashion and make of thee the vilest of examples! Did it not suffice thee to do as thou didst the first time and put off thy lies upon us, but thou must return upon us with thy falsehoods?’

  Then he commanded to slay her and crucify her over the gate of the palace: but the one-eyed vizier, who had long been enamoured of the princess, came in to him and said, ‘Slay her not, but give her to me to wife, and I will watch over her with the utmost vigilance, nor will I go in to her, till I have built her a palace of solid stone, exceeding high of fashion, so no thieves may avail to climb up to its roof; and when I have made an end of building it, I will sacrifice thirty Muslims before the gate thereof, as an expiatory offering to the Messiah for her and for myself.’ The king granted his request and bade the priests and monks and patriarchs marry the princess to him; so they did his bidding, whereupon he gave commandment to set about building a strong and lofty palace, befitting her, and the workmen fell to work upon it.

  To return to Noureddin. When he came back with the veils and what not else he had borrowed of the druggist’s wife, he ‘found the air empty and the place of visitation distant;’ whereupon his heart sank within him and he wept floods of tears and recited the following verses:

  The phantom of Saada came to me by night, near the break of day, And roused me, whenas my comrades all in the desert sleeping lay:

  But, when I awoke to the dream of the night, that came to visit me, I found the air void and the wonted place of our rendezvous far away.

  Then he walked on along the beach and turned right and left, till he saw people gathered together on the beach and heard them say, ‘O Muslims, there abideth no sanctity in the city of Alexandria, since the Franks enter it and snatch away those who are therein and return to their own land at their leisure, unpursued of any of the Muslims or men-of-war!’ Quoth Noureddin to them, ‘What is to do?’ And they answered, ‘O my son, one of the ships of the Franks, full of armed men, came down but now upon the harbour and carried off a ship that was moored here, with her who was therein, and made for their own land unhindered.’ Noureddin fell down in a swoon, on hearing these words; and when he came to himself, they questioned him of his case and he told them all that had befallen him; whereupon they all fell to blaming him and railing at him, saying, ‘Why couldst thou not bring her up into the town without veil and muffler?’ And each gave him some grievous word, berating him with sharp speech, and shot at him each his shaft of reproach, albeit some said, ‘Let him be; that which hath befallen him sufficeth him,’ till he again fell down in a swoon.

  At this moment, up came the old druggist, who, seeing the folk gathered together, drew near to learn what was the matter and found Noureddin lying aswoon in their midst. So he sat down at his head and arousing him, said to him, ‘O my son, what is this case in which I see thee?’ ‘O uncle,’ replied Noureddin, ‘I had brought back my slave-girl, whom I lost, from her father’s city, after suffering all manner of perils and hardships; and when I came hither with her, I made the vessel fast to the shore and leaving her therein, repaired to thy dwelling and took of thy wife what was needful for her, that I might bring her up into the city; but the Franks came and taking the ship and the damsel therein, made off unhindered, and returned to their own land.’

  When the druggist heard this, the light in his eyes became darkness and he grieved sore for Noureddin and said to him, ‘O my son, why didst thou not bring her out of the ship into the city without a veil? But talk availeth not at this season; so rise, O my son, and come up with me to the city; it may be God will vouchsafe thee a girl fairer than she, who shall console thee for her. Praised be God who hath not made thee lose aught by her! Nay, thou hast gained by her. And bethink thee, O my son, that union and separation are in the hands of the Most High King.’ ‘By Allah, O uncle,’ replied Noureddin, ‘I can never be consoled for her loss nor will I ever leave seeking her, though I drink the cup of death on her account!’ ‘O my son,’ rejoined the druggist, ‘and what dost thou purpose to do?’ Quoth Noureddin, ‘I purpose to return to the land of the Franks and enter the city of France and venture myself there, come what may.’ ‘O my son,’ said the druggist, ‘quoth the current byword, “Not always comes the pitcher off unbroken;” and if they did thee no hurt before, belike they will slay thee this time, more by token that they know thee now but too well.’ ‘O my uncle,’ replied Noureddin, ‘let me set out and be slain presently for the love of her, and not die slowly of despair for her loss.’

  Now, as fate would have it, there was then a ship in the port ready to sail, for its passengers had made an end of their affairs and the sailors had pulled up the mooring- stakes, when Noureddin embarked in her. So they put out to sea and sailed many days, with fair wind and weather, till they fell in with certain of the Frank cruisers, that were scouring those waters and seizing upon all ships they saw, in their fear for the king’s daughter from the Muslim corsairs: and as often as they made prize of a Muslim ship, they carried all her people to the King of France, who put them to death in accomplishment of the vow he had made on account of his daughter Meryem. So they boarded the ship in which was Noureddin and taking him and the rest of the company prisoners, to the number of a hundred Muslims, carried them to the king, who bade cut their throats. So they slaughtered them all, one after another, till there was none left but Noureddin, whom the headsman had left till the last, in pity of his tender age and slender shape.

  When the king saw him, he knew him right well and said to him, ‘Art thou not Noureddin, that was with us before?’ ‘I was never with thee,’ answered he; ‘and my name is not Noureddin, but Ibrahim.’ ‘Thou liest,’ rejoined the king; ‘thou art Noureddin, he whom I gave to the old woman, the prioress, to help her in the service of the church.’ But Noureddin said, ‘O my lord, my name is Ibrahim.’ Quoth the king, ‘Wait awhile,’ and bade his knights fetch the old woman forthright, saying, ‘When she comes and sees thee, she will know if thou be Noureddin or not.’ At this juncture, in came the one- eyed vizier and kissing the earth before the king, said to him, ‘Know, O king, that the palace is finished; and thou knoweth that I vowed to the Messiah that, when I had made an end of building it, I would slaughter thirty Muslims before its gate; wherefore I am come to get them of thee, that I may sacrifice them and so fulfil my vow to the Messiah. They shall be at my charge, by way of loan and whenas there come prisoners to my hands, I will give thee other thirty in their stead.’ ‘By the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith,’ replied the king, ‘I have but this one captive left!’ And he pointed to Noureddin. ‘Take him and slaughter him now, and the rest I will send thee, whenas there come to my hands [other] prisoners of the Muslims.’

  So the vizier took No
ureddin and carried him to his palace, thinking to slaughter him on the threshold of the gate; but the painters said to him, ‘O my lord, we have two days’ painting yet to do; so have patience with us and delay to slaughter this captive, till we have made an end of our work; belike by that time the rest of the thirty will come, so thou mayst despatch them all at one but and accomplish thy vow in one day.’ So the vizier bade imprison him and they carried him to the stables and left him there in chains, hungering and thirsting and making moan for himself; for indeed he saw death face to face.

  Now it chanced, by the ordinance of destiny and fore-ordered fated that the king had two chargers, own brothers, such as the kings of the Chosroes might sigh in vain to possess themselves of one of them; they were called Sabic and Lahic and one of them was pure white and the other black as the darksome night. And all the kings of the isles had said, ‘Whoso stealeth us one of these horses, we will give him all he seeketh of red gold and pearls and jewels;’ but none could avail unto this. Now one of them fell sick of a jaundice and there came a whiteness over his eyes; whereupon the king sent for all the farriers in the city to treat him; but they all failed of his cure. Presently the vizier came in to the king and finding him troubled, because of the horse, thought to do away his concern and said to him, ‘O king, give me the horse and I will cure him.’ The king consented and caused carry the horse to the stable wherein was Noureddin; but, when he missed his brother, he cried out with an exceeding great cry and neighed, so that he affrighted all the folk. The vizier, seeing that he did thus but because of his separation from his brother, sent to tell the king, who said, ‘If this, which is but a beast, cannot brook to be parted from his brother, how should it be with those that have reason?’ And he bade his grooms take the other horse and put him with his brother in the vizier’s stable, saying, ‘Tell the vizier that the two horses are a present from me to him, for the sake of my daughter Meryem.’

  Noureddin was lying in the stable, chained and shackled, when they brought the horses, and saw that one of them had a web in his eyes. Now he had some knowledge of horses and of the treatment of their diseases; so he said in himself, ‘By Allah, this is my opportunity! I will go to the vizier and lie to him, saying, “I will cure thee this horse:” then will I do with him somewhat that will destroy his eyes; and he will kill me and I shall be at rest from this wretched life.’ So he waited till the vizier entered the stable, to look upon the horse, and said to him, ‘O my lord, what wilt thou give me, if I cure this horse, and make his eyes whole again?’ ‘As my bead liveth,’ replied the vizier, ‘an thou cure him, I will spare thy life and give thee leave to ask a boon of me!’ And Noureddin said, ‘O my lord, command my hands to be unbound.’ So the vizier bade unbind him and he rose and taking virgin glass brayed it and mixed it with unslaked lime and onion-juice. Then he applied the whole to the horse’s eyes and bound them up, saying in himself: ‘Now will his eyes be put out and they will kill me and I shall be at rest from this wretched life.’ And he passed the night with a heart free of care and trouble, humbling himself to God the Most High and saying, ‘O Lord, in Thy knowledge is that which dispenseth with asking!’

  When the day came and the sun shone out upon the hills and valleys, the vizier came to the stable and loosing the bandage from the horse’s eyes, found them [altogether cured and] handsomer than ever, by the ordinance of the King who openeth [unto His servants the fates of sustenance and mercy]. So he said to Noureddin, ‘O Muslim, never in the world saw I the like of thee for the excellence of thy skill. By the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith, thou fillest me with wonder, for all the farriers of our land have failed to heal this horse’s eyes!’ Then be did off his shackles with his own hand and clad him in a costly dress and made him his master of the horse. Moreover, he appointed him stipends and allowances and lodged him in an apartment over the stables. So Noureddin abode awhile, eating and drinking and making merry and commanding and forbidding those who tended the horses; and whoso neglected them or failed to fodder those tied up in the stable wherein was his service, he would throw down and beat grievously and lay him by the legs in shackles of iron. Moreover, he used every day to go down to the two chargers and rub them down with his own hand, by reason of that which he knew of their value in the vizier’s eyes and his love for them; wherefore the latter rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy and his breast dilated and he was glad, unknowing what was to be the issue of his affair.

  Now in the new palace, that he had built for the Princess Meryem, was a lattice window overlooking his old house and Noureddin’s lodging. The vizier had a daughter, a virgin of extreme beauty, as she were a fleeing gazelle or a bending branch, and it chanced that she sat one day at the lattice aforesaid and heard Noureddin singing and solacing himself under his afflictions by reciting the following verses:

  O censor of love, thou that wast fortunate aye, Bright with the sheen of thy joys as the blossomed spray:

  If Fate with its plagues should bite on thee one day, Then of the taste of its bitter cup thou’lt say,

  ‘Alas for Love and out on his whole array| My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.’

  But to-day thou art safe as yet from his cruel spite And his perfidy irks thee not and his fell unright;

  Yet blame not, I prithee the love-distracted wight Who cries, for the stress of the passion to which he’s prey,

  ‘Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.’

  Be not of those that look on love with disdain, But rather excuse and pity the lovers’ pain,

  Lest thou one day be bound in the self-same chain And drink of the self-same bitter draught as they.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  I too of old was empty of heart like thee And lay down to rest in peace and passion free;

  The taste of the sleepless nights was strange to me Until he called me to dwell beneath his sway.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  Yea, none can tell of Love and its sore duresse But he who is sick and weak for its lonesomeness,

  He who hath lost his reason for love-distress, Whose drink is the bitter dregs of his own dismay.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  How many a lover watches the darksome night, His eye forbidden the taste of sleep’s delight!

  How many, whose tears like rivers down a height Course down their cheeks for passion both night and day!

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  How many a mortal is maddened for love-despair, Wakeful, for void of sleep is the dusky air!

  Languor and pain are the weeds that he doth wear And even his dreams from him are banished aye.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  How often my patience fails and my bones do waste And my tears, like a fount of blood, stream down in haste!

  For my life, that of old was pleasant and sweet of taste, A slender maiden hath bittered this many a day.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  Alack for the man among men who loves like me, Whose eyes through the hours of the darkness sleepless be,

  Who drowns in his own despair, as it were a sea, And cries, for the stress of an anguish without allay,

  ‘Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.’

  Whom hath not Love stricken and wounded indeed? Who was there aye from his easy springes freed?

  Whose life is empty of him and who succeed In winning to his delights without affray?

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  Be Thou his helper, O Lord, who’s sick at heart; Protect him, Thou that
the best protector art.

  To him fair patience to bear his woes impart; In all his trouble be Thou his help and stay.

  Alas for Love and out on his whole array! My heart with his flaming fires is burnt away.

  Quoth the vizier’s daughter to herself, ‘By the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith, but this Muslim is a handsome youth! Doubtless, he is a lover separated from his mistress. I wonder if his beloved is fair like unto him and if she pines for him as he for her! If she be comely as he is, it behoveth him to pour forth tears and make moan of passion; but, if she be other than fair, his life is wasted in vain regrets and he is denied the taste of delights.’

  Now the Princess Meryem had removed to the [new] palace the day before and the vizier’s daughter knew that she was heavy at heart; so she bethought herself to go to her and talk with her and tell her of the young man and the verses she had heard him recite; but, before she could do this, the princess sent for her to cheer her with her converse. So she went to her and found her breast straitened and her tears coursing down her cheeks; and she was weeping sore and reciting the following verses: