One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  Then she took leave of the princess and veiling her face, disguised herself; after which she mounted the mule and sallying forth, went round about seeking her lord in the thoroughfares of Baghdad three days’ space, but lit on no tidings of him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without the city. Now it was the noontide hour and great was the heat, and she was aweary and thirst waxed upon her. Presently, she came to the mosque, wherein the young Damascene had taken shelter, and lighting down at the door, said to the old man, [the Muezzin], “O elder, hast thou a draught of cold water? Indeed, I am overcome with heat and thirst.” Quoth he, “[Come up] with me into my house.” So he carried her up into his lodging and spreading her [a carpet and cushions], seated her [thereon]; after which he brought her cold water and she drank and said to the eunuch, “Go thy ways with the mule and on the morrow come back to me here.” [So he went away] and she slept and rested herself.

  When she awoke, she said to the old man, “O elder, hast thou aught of food?” And he answered, “O my lady, I have bread and olives.” Quoth she, “That is food fit but for the like of thee. As for me, I will have nought but roast lamb and broths and fat rissoled fowls and stuffed ducks and all manner meats dressed with [pounded nuts and almond-]kernels and sugar.” “O my lady,” replied the Muezzin, “I never heard of this chapter in the Koran, nor was it revealed unto our lord Mohammed, whom God bless and keep!” She laughed and said, “O elder, the matter is even as thou sayest; but bring me inkhorn and paper.” So he brought her what she sought and she wrote a letter and gave it to him, together with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, “Go into the city and enquire for such an one the money-changer and give him this my letter.”

  The old man betook himself to the city, as she bade him, and enquired for the money-changer, to whom they directed him. So he gave him the ring and the letter, which when he saw, he kissed the letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended its purport. Then he repaired to the market and buying all that she bade him, laid it in a porter’s basket and bade him go with the old man. So the latter took him and went with him to the mosque, where he relieved him of his burden and carried the meats in to Sitt el Milah. She seated him by her side and they ate, he and she, of those rich meats, till they were satisfied, when the old man rose and removed the food from before her.

  She passed the night in his lodging and when she arose in the morning, she said to him, “O elder, may I not lack thy kind offices for the morning-meal! Go to the money-changer and fetch me from him the like of yesterday’s food.” So he arose and betaking himself to the money-changer, acquainted him with that which she had bidden him. The money-changer brought him all that she required and set it on the heads of porters; and the old man took them and returned with them to Sitt el Milah. So she sat down with him and they ate their sufficiency, after which he removed the rest of the food. Then she took the fruits and the flowers and setting them over against herself, wrought them into rings and knots and letters, whilst the old man looked on at a thing whose like he had never in his life seen and rejoiced therein.

  Then said she to him, “O elder, I would fain drink.” So he arose and brought her a gugglet of water; but she said to him, “Who bade thee fetch that?” Quoth he, “Saidst thou not to me, ‘I would fain drink’?” And she answered, “I want not this; nay, I want wine, the delight of the soul, so haply, O elder, I may solace myself therewith.” “God forbid,” exclaimed the old man, “that wine should be drunk in my house, and I a stranger in the land and a Muezzin and an imam, who prayeth with the true-believers, and a servant of the house of the Lord of the Worlds! “Quoth she, “Why wilt thou forbid me to drink thereof in thy house?” “Because,” answered he, “it is unlawful.” “O elder,” rejoined she, “God hath forbidden [the eating of] blood and carrion and hog’s flesh. Tell me, are grapes and honey lawful or unlawful?” Quoth he, “They are lawful;” and she said, “This is the juice of grapes and the water of honey.” But he answered, “Leave this thy talk, for thou shall never drink wine in my house.” “O Sheikh,” rejoined she, “folk eat and drink and enjoy themselves and we are of the number of the folk and God is very forgiving, clement.” Quoth he, “This is a thing that may not be.” And she said, “Hast thou not heard what the poet saith … ?” And she recited the following verses:

  O son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say. How bitter

  from the convent ’twas to part and fare away!

  Ay, and the monks, for on the Day of Palms a fawn there was Among

  the servants of the church, a loveling blithe and gay.

  By God, how pleasant was the night we passed, with him for third!

  Muslim and Jew and Nazarene, we sported till the day.

  The wine was sweet to us to drink in pleasance and repose, And in

  a garden of the garths of Paradise we lay,

  Whose streams beneath the myrtle’s shade and cassia’s welled

  amain And birds made carol jubilant from every blossomed

  spray.

  Quoth he, what while from out his hair the morning glimmered

  white, “This, this is life indeed, except, alas! it doth not

  stay.”

  “O elder,” added she, “if Muslims and Jews and Nazarenes drink wine, who are we [that we should abstain from it]?” “By Allah, O my lady,” answered he, “spare thine endeavour, for this is a thing to which I will not hearken.” When she knew that he would not consent to her desire, she said to him, “O elder, I am of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth on me and if I drink not, I shall perish, nor wilt thou be assured against the issue of my affair. As for me, I am quit of blame towards thee, for that I have made myself known to thee and have bidden thee beware of the wrath of the Commander of the Faithful.”

  When the old man heard her words and that wherewith she menaced him, he arose and went out, perplexed and knowing not what he should do, and there met him a Jew, who was his neighbour, and said to him, “O Sheikh, how cometh it that I see thee strait of breast? Moreover, I hear in thy house a noise of talk, such as I use not to hear with thee.” Quoth the Muezzin, “Yonder is a damsel who avoucheth that she is of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid; and she hath eaten food and now would fain drink wine in my house, but I forbade her. However she avoucheth that except she drink thereof, she will perish, and indeed I am bewildered concerning my affair.” “Know, O my neighbour,” answered the Jew, “that the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful are used to drink wine, and whenas they eat and drink not, they perish; and I fear lest some mishap betide her, in which case thou wouldst not be safe from the Khalifs wrath.” “What is to be done?” asked the Sheikh; and the Jew replied, “I have old wine that will suit her.” Quoth the old man, “[I conjure thee] by the right of neighbourship, deliver me from this calamity and let me have that which is with thee!” “In the name of God,” answered the Jew and going to his house, brought out a flagon of wine, with which the Sheikh returned to Sitt el Milah. This pleased her and she said to him, “Whence hadst thou this?” “I got it from my neighbour the Jew,” answered he. “I set out to him my case with thee and he gave me this.”

  Sitt el Milah filled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank a second and a third. Then she filled the cup a fourth time and handed it to the old man, but he would not accept it from her. However, she conjured him, by her own head and that of the Commander of the Faithful, that he should take it from her, till he took the cup from her hand and kissed it and would have set it down; but she conjured him by her life to smell it. So he smelt it and she said to him, “How deemest thou?” “Its smell is sweet,” replied he; and she conjured him, by the life of the Commander of the Faithful, to taste it. So he put it to his mouth and she rose to him and made him drink; whereupon, “O princess of the fair,” said he, “this is none other than good.” Quoth she, “So deem I. Hath not our Lord promised us wine in Paradise?” And he answered, “Yes. Quoth the Most High, ‘And river
s of wine, a delight to the drinkers.’ And we will drink it in this world and the world to come.” She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to drink, and he said, “O princess of the fair, indeed thou art excusable in thy love for this.” Then he took from her another and another, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and his prate.

  The folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under the window; and when he was ware of them, he opened the window and said to them, “Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one in his own house doth what he will and none hindereth him; but we drink one poor day and ye assemble and come, cuckoldy varlets that ye are! To-day, wine, and to-morrow [another] matter; and from hour to hour [cometh] relief.” So they laughed and dispersed. Then the girl drank till she was intoxicated, when she called to mind her lord and wept, and the old man said to her, “What maketh thee weep, O my lady?” “O elder,” replied she, “I am a lover and separated [from him I love].” Quoth he, “O my lady, what is this love?” “And thou,” asked she, “hast thou never been in love?” “By Allah, O my lady,” answered he, “never in all my life heard I of this thing, nor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam or of the Jinn?” She laughed and said, “Verily, thou art even as those of whom the poet speaketh, when as he saith …” And she repeated the following verses:

  How long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? The

  shepherd still his flocks forbids, and they obey his rede.

  I see yon like unto mankind in favour and in form; But

  oxen, verily, ye are in fashion and in deed.

  The old man laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him. Then said she to him, “I desire of thee a lute.” So he arose and brought her a piece of firewood. Quoth she, “What is that?” And he said, “Didst thou not bid me bring thee wood?” “I do not want this,” answered she, and he rejoined, “What then is it that is called wood, other than this?” She laughed and said, “The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing.” Quoth he, “Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?” And she said, “Of him who gave thee the wine.” So he arose and betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, “Thou favouredst us aforetime with the wine; so now complete thy favours and look me out a thing called a lute, to wit, an instrument for singing; for that she seeketh this of me and I know it not” “Hearkening and obedience,” replied the Jew and going into his house, brought him a lute. [The old man took it and carried it to Sitt el Milah,] whilst the Jew took his drink and sat by a window adjoining the other’s house, so he might hear the singing.

  The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang the following verses:

  After your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, Did

  not the hope of union some whit my strength sustain.

  Ye’re gone and desolated by your absence is the world: Requital,

  ay, or substitute to seek for you ‘twere vain.

  Ye, of your strength, have burdened me, upon my weakliness, With

  burdens not to be endured of mountain nor of plain.

  When from your land the breeze I scent that cometh, as I were A

  reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I’m fain.

  Love no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And

  blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain.

  I wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a

  camp I come, I’m told, “They’ve fared away again.”

  My friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I

  forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.

  When she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till presently sleep overcame her and she slept.

  On the morrow, she said to the old man, “Get thee to the money-changer and fetch me the ordinary.” So he repaired to the money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made ready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man returned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When she had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and fetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and chanted the following verses:

  How long shall I thus question my heart that’s drowned in woe?

  I’m mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow.

  They have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my

  nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!

  John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents

  And when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.

  All this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he likened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put away from him this thought, and the damsel had no whit of knowledge of him. Then she broke out again into song and chanted the following verses:

  “Forget him,” quoth my censurers, “forget him; what is he?” “If I

  forget him, ne’er may God,” quoth I, “remember me!”

  Now God forbid a slave forget his liege lord’s love! And how Of

  all things in the world should I forget the love of thee?

  Pardon of God for everything I crave, except thy love, For on the

  day of meeting Him, that will my good deed be.

  Then she drank three cups and filling the old man other three, sang the following verses:

  His love he’d have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy,

  For the heat of a red-hot coal that ‘twixt his ribs did lie.

  Suppose for distraction he seek in the Spring and its blooms one

  day, The face of his loved one holds the only Spring for his

  eye.

  O blamer of me for the love of him who denieth his grace, Which

  be the delightsome of things, but those which the people

  deny?

  A sun [is my love;] but his heat in mine entrails still rageth,

  concealed; A moon, in the hearts of the folk he riseth, and

  not in the sky.

  When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept, whilst the old man wept for her weeping. Then she fell down in a swoon and presently coming to herself, filled the cup and drinking it off, gave the old man to drink, after which she took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted the following verses:

  Thy loss is the fairest of all my heart’s woes; My case it hath

  altered and banished repose.

  The world is upon me all desolate grown. Alack, my long grief and

  forlornness! Who knows

  But the Merciful yet may incline thee to me And unite us again,

  in despite of our foes!

  Then she wept till her voice rose high and her lamentation was discovered [to those without]; after which she again began to drink and plying the old man with wine, sang the following verses:

  They have shut out thy person from my sight; They cannot shut thy memory from my spright. Favour or flout me, still my soul shall be Thy ransom, in contentment or despite. My outward of my inward testifies And this bears witness that that tells aright.

  When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her hand and wept and lamented. Then she slept awhile and presently awaking, said, “O elder, hast thou what we may eat?” “O my lady,” answered the old man, “there is the rest of the food;” but she said, “I will not eat of a thing I have left. Go down to the market and fetch us what we may eat.” Quoth he, “Excuse me, O my lady; I cannot stand up, for that I am overcome with wine; but with me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an intelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee that which thou desirest.” “Whence hast thou this servant?” asked she; and he replied, “He is of the people of Damascus.” When she heard him speak of the people of Damascus, she gave a sob, that she swooned away; and when she came to herself, she said, “Woe’s me for the people of
Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O elder, that he may do our occasions.”

  So the old man put his head forth of the window and called the youth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave [to enter]. The Muezzin bade him enter, and when he came in to the damsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in bewilderment and would have fled; but she sprang up to him and seized him, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell down on the ground in a swoon. When the old man saw them in this plight, he feared for himself and fled forth, seeing not the way for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and said to him, “How comes it that I see thee confounded?” “How should I not be confounded,” answered the old man, “seeing that the damsel who is with me is fallen in love with the servant of the mosque and they have embraced and fallen down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the Khalif come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou what is to be done in this wherewith I am afflicted of the affair of this damsel.” Quoth the Jew, “For the nonce, take this casting-bottle of rose-water and go forth-right and sprinkle them therewith. If they be aswoon for this their foregathering and embracement, they will come to themselves, and if otherwise, do thou flee.”