Though this is what her father has.
Whoever walks on dry or slippery ground,
And takes no thought, must fall.
The executioner then came up, blindfolded him and unsheathed his sword, asking the king’s permission to proceed. Duban was weeping and imploring the king: ‘Spare me and God will spare you; do not slay me lest God slay you.’ He recited:
I gave my good advice and yet had no success,
While they succeeded, but through treachery.
What I advised humiliated me.
If I live, never shall I give advice again;
If not, after my death let all advisors be accursed.
Then he said to the king: ‘If this is how you reward me, it is the crocodile’s reward.’ The king asked for the story of the crocodile, but Duban replied: ‘I cannot tell it to you while I am in this state. I conjure you by God to spare me so that God may spare you.’ At that one of the king’s courtiers got up and asked the king for Duban’s life, pointing out: ‘We have not seen that he has done you any wrong, but only that he cured you of a disease that no wise doctor was able to treat.’ The king said: ‘You do not know why I have ordered his death, but this is because, if I spare him, I shall certainly die. A man who cured me of my illness by something that I held in my hand is able to kill me by something that I smell. I am afraid that he has been bribed to murder me, as he is a spy and this is why he has come here. He must be executed, and after that I shall be safe.’
Duban repeated his plea for mercy, but on realizing that he could not escape execution, he said to the king: ‘If I must be killed, allow me a delay so that I may return to my house, give instructions to my family and my neighbours about my funeral, settle my debts and give away my books of medicine. I have a very special book which I shall present to you to be kept in your treasury.’ ‘What is in the book?’ asked the king. ‘Innumerable secrets,’ Duban replied, ‘the least of which is that, if you cut off my head and then open three pages and read three lines from the left-hand page, my head will speak to you and answer all your questions.’ The astonished king trembled with joy. ‘When I cut off your head, will you really talk to me?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ said Duban. ‘This is an amazing thing!’ exclaimed the king, and he sent him off under escort.
Duban returned to his house and settled all his affairs, and then the next day he came back to the court, where all the viziers, chamberlains, deputies and officers of state assembled, until the place looked like a garden in flower. He entered and was brought before the king, carrying with him an old book together with a collyrium case containing powder. He sat down and asked for a plate, which was brought. He then poured the powder on it and spread it out, after which he said: ‘King, take this book, but don’t open it until you cut off my head. When you have done that, set the head on the plate and have it pressed into the powder. At that, the flow of blood will halt and you can then open the book.’
The king took the book from him and gave orders for his execution. The executioner cut off his head, which fell on the plate, where it was pressed down into the powder. The blood ceased to flow and Duban the wise opened his eyes and said: ‘O king, open the book.’ The king did this, but he found the pages stuck together, so he put his finger into his mouth, wet it with his spittle, and with difficulty he opened the first, the second and the third pages. He opened six pages in all, but when he looked at them, he could find nothing written there. ‘Wise man,’ he said, ‘there is no writing here.’ ‘Open more pages,’ said Duban. The king opened three more, but soon afterwards he felt the poison with which the book had been impregnated spreading through him. He was wracked by convulsions and cried out that he had been poisoned, while Duban recited:
They wielded power with arrogance,
But soon it was as though their power had never been.
If they had acted justly, they would have met with justice,
But they were tyrants and Time played the tyrant in return,
Afflicting them with grievous trials.
It was as though here fate was telling them:
‘This is a return for that, and Time cannot be blamed.’
As soon as Duban’s head had finished speaking, the king fell dead. Know then, ‘ifrit, that had he spared Duban, God would have spared him, but as he refused and looked to have him killed, God destroyed him. Had you spared me, God would have spared you…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the sixth night, her sister, Dunyazad, told her to finish the story and Shahrazad said: ‘If the king permits me.’ ‘Go on,’ he replied, AND SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the fisherman told the ‘ifrit: ‘Had you spared me, I would have spared you, but you wanted nothing but my death and so now I am going to destroy you by throwing you into the sea here, imprisoned in this bottle.’ The ‘ifrit cried out: ‘I implore you, in God’s Name, fisherman, don’t do this! Spare me and don’t punish me for what I did. If I treated you badly, do you for your part treat me well, as the proverb says: “You who do good to the evil-doer, know that what he has done is punishment enough for him.” Do not do what ‘Umama did to ‘Atika!’ ‘What was that?’ asked the fisherman, but the ‘ifrit said: ‘I cannot talk while I am imprisoned, but if you let me out, I shall tell you the story.’ The fisherman said: ‘Stop talking like this, for I shall certainly throw you into the sea and I am never going to release you. I pleaded with you and begged you, but all you wanted to do was to kill me, although I had done nothing at all to deserve this and, far from doing you any harm, I had helped you by freeing you from your prison. When you did that to me, I realized that you were an evil-doer. Be sure that, when I throw you into the sea, if anyone brings you out, I will tell him what you did to me and warn him, so that he may throw you back again and there you will stay until the end of time or until you perish.’ ‘Free me,’ pleaded the ‘ifrit. ‘This is a time for generosity and I promise you that I shall never act against you again but will help you by making you rich.’
At this, the fisherman made the ‘ifrit promise that were he freed, far from hurting his rescuer, he would help him. When the fisherman was sure of this and had made the ‘ifrit swear by the greatest Name of God, he opened the bottle and the smoke rose up, until it had all come out and had formed into a hideous shape. The ‘ifrit then picked the bottle up and hurled it into the sea, convincing the watching fisherman that he was going to be killed. The man soiled his trousers, crying: ‘This is not a good sign!’ but then his courage came back and he said: ‘God Almighty has said: “Fulfil your promise, for your promise will be questioned.”* You gave me your word, swearing that you would not act treacherously to me, as otherwise God will do the same to you, for He is a jealous God Who bides His time but does not forget. I say to you what Duban the wise said to King Yunan: “Spare me and God will spare you.” ’
The ‘ifrit laughed and told the fisherman to follow him as he walked ahead. This the fisherman did, scarcely believing that he was safe. The pair of them left the city, climbed a mountain and then went down into a wide plain. There they saw a pool, and after the ‘ifrit had waded into the middle of it, he asked the fisherman to follow him, which he did. When the ‘ifrit stopped, he told the fisherman to cast his net, and the man was astonished to see that the pond contained coloured fish – white, red, blue and yellow. He took out his net, cast it and when he drew it in he found four fish, each a different colour. He was delighted by this, and the ‘ifrit said: ‘Present these to the sultan and he will enrich you. Then I ask you in God’s Name to excuse me, since at this time I know no other way to help you. I have been in the sea for eighteen hundred years and this is the first time that I have seen the face of the land.’ After advising the fisherman not to fish the pool more than once a day, he took his leave, speaking words of farewell. Then he stamped his foot on the earth and a crack appeared into which he was swallowed.
The fisherman returned to the city,
full of wonder at his encounter. He took the fish to his house, where he brought out an earthenware bowl, filled it with water and put them in it. As they wriggled about in the water, he placed the bowl on his head and went to the palace as the ‘ifrit had told him. When he came to the king and presented him with the fish, the king was astonished, for never in his life had he seen anything like them. He gave orders that they were to be handed over to a slave girl who was acting as cook but whose skill had not yet been tested, as she had been given him three days earlier by the king of Rum. The vizier told her to fry the fish, adding that the king had said that he was testing her only in the hour of need, and that he was putting his hopes in her artistry and cooking skills, for the fish had been given him as a present.
After issuing these instructions, the vizier went back to the king, who told him to hand the fisherman four hundred dinars. After he had passed over the money, the man stowed it inside his clothes and set off back home at a run, falling, getting up and then stumbling again, thinking that this was all a dream. He bought what was needed for his family and then returned to his wife in joy and delight.
So much for him, but as for the slave girl, she took the fish and cleaned them. Then, after setting the frying pan on the fire, she put the fish in it and when one side was properly cooked, she turned them on to the other. All of a sudden, the kitchen wall split open and out came a girl, with a beautiful figure and smooth cheeks, perfect in all her attributes. Her eyes were darkened with kohl and she had on a silken kaffiyeh with a blue fringe. She was wearing earrings; on her wrists were a pair of bracelets, while her fingers were adorned with rings set with precious gems, and in her hand she held a bamboo staff. Thrusting this into the pan, she asked: ‘Fish, are you still faithful to your covenant?’ at which the cook fainted. The girl repeated her question a second and a third time and the fish raised their heads from the pan and said: ‘Yes, yes,’ in clear voices, and then they recited:
If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.
At that, the girl turned the pan upside down with her staff and left through the hole from which she had come, after which the wall closed up behind her. The cook recovered from her faint and saw the four fish burned like black charcoal. She exclaimed: ‘His spear was broken on his very first raid!’ and fell unconscious again on the floor. While she was in this confused state, the vizier came and saw that something had gone badly wrong with her, so much so that she could not even tell what day of the week it was. He nudged her with his foot, and when she had recovered her senses, she explained to him, in tears, what had happened. He was astonished, and exclaimed: ‘This is something wonderful!’ He then sent for the fisherman and, when he was brought in, the vizier told him to fetch another four fish like the first ones.
The fisherman went to the pool, cast his net and when he drew it in, there were four fish like the first. He took them to the vizier, who brought them to the cook and said: ‘Fry these in front of me so that I can see what happens.’ The cook got up, prepared the fish, put the pan over the fire and threw them into it. As soon as she did, the wall split open and out came the girl, looking as she had done before, with a staff in her hand. She prodded the pan and asked: ‘Fish, fish, are you true to your old covenant?’ At this, all the fish raised their heads and repeated the lines:
If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventh night, she continued:
I have heard, O auspicious king, that, when the fish spoke, the girl overturned the pan with her staff and then left by the way she had come, with the wall closing behind her. At that, the vizier got up and said: ‘This is something which must not be kept from the king.’ So he went to the king and told him the story, explaining what he had seen for himself. ‘I must see this with my own eyes,’ said the king, and at that the fisherman was sent for and told to bring another four fish like the others. He went down to the pool with three guards as an escort and brought the fish immediately. The king ordered him to be given four hundred dinars, after which he turned to the vizier and told him: ‘Come and cook these fish in my presence.’ The vizier did as he was told, brought the pan and, after preparing the fish, he put the pan over the fire and threw them into it. As soon as he did so, the wall split open and out came a black slave, tall as a mountain or like a survivor of the race of ‘Ad. In his hand was a green bough and he asked in a hectoring voice: ‘Fish, fish, are you true to your old covenant?’ The fish raised their heads from the pan and replied: ‘Yes, yes, we keep to our covenant.
If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.’
The slave came up to the pan, overturned it with the branch that he was holding, and left by the way that he had come. The vizier and the king looked at the fish and saw that they were now like charcoal. The king was amazed and said: ‘This is something that cannot be kept quiet and there must be some secret attached to them.’ So he gave orders for the fisherman to be summoned and when the man came, the king asked him where the fish came from. ‘From a pool surrounded by four mountains,’ replied the fisherman, ‘and it is under the mountain outside the city.’ The king turned and asked: ‘How many days’ journey is it?’ and the fisherman told him that it was half an hour away.
This astonished the king and he ordered his troops to mount and ride immediately, with the fisherman at their head, while the fisherman, in his turn, as he accompanied the king, spent his time cursing the ‘ifrit. The riders climbed up the mountain and then went down into a broad plain that they had never seen before in their lives. Everyone, including the king, was filled with wonder when they looked at it and at the pool in its centre, set as it was between four mountains, with its fish of four colours – red, white, yellow and blue. The king halted in astonishment and asked his soldiers and the others there whether they had ever seen the pool before. ‘King of the age,’ they replied, ‘never in all our lives have we set eyes on it.’ The elderly were asked about it, but they too said that they had never before seen the pool there.
The king then swore by God: ‘I shall not enter my city or sit on my throne again until I find out the secret of this pool and of these fish.’ He gave orders for his men to camp around the mountains, and then summoned his vizier, a learned, wise and sensible man, with a knowledge of affairs. When he came into the king’s presence, the king said to him: ‘I am going to tell you what I want to do. It has struck me that I should go out alone tonight and investigate the secret of this pool and of these fish. I want you to sit at the entrance of my tent and to tell the emirs, viziers, chamberlains and deputies, as well as everyone who asks about me, that I am unwell and that you have my instructions not to allow anyone to come in to see me. Don’t tell anyone what I am planning to do.’
The vizier was in no position to disobey and so the king changed his clothes and strapped on his sword. He climbed down from one of the mountains and walked on for the rest of the night until morning. He spent all the next day walking in the intense heat, and carried on for a second night until morning. At that point, he was pleased to see something black in the distance, and he said to himself: ‘Perhaps I shall find someone to tell me about the pool and the fish.’ When he went nearer he found a palace made of black stones plated with iron, one leaf of whose gate was open and the other shut. Joyfully he stood by the door and knocked lightly; on hearing no reply, he knocked a second and a third time, and when there was still no answer, he knocked more loudly. When no one answered, he was sure that the palace must be empty and so, plucking up his courage, he went through the gate to the passage that led from it, and called out: ‘People of the palace, here is a passing stranger. Have you any food?’
He repeated this a second and a third t
ime, and when there was still no reply, emboldened and heartened, he went through the passage to the centre of the palace. This was furnished with silks, starry tapestries and other hangings, but there was no one there. In the centre was an open space, leading to four halls. There was a stone bench, and one hall next to another, then an ornate fountain and four lions of red gold, from whose mouths water poured, glittering like pearls or gems. Round and about were birds and over the top of the palace there was a net of gold that kept them from flying away, but the king was astonished and saddened that he had not seen anyone whom he could ask about the plain, the pool, the fish, the mountains and the palace.
He was sitting between the doors, sunk in thought, when suddenly he heard a plaintive sound coming from a sorrowful heart, with a voice chanting these verses:
I try to hide what I suffer at your hands, but this is clear,
With my eyes exchanging sleep for sleeplessness.
Time, you neither spare me nor cease your work,
And it is between hardship and danger that my heart lies.
Have you no mercy on one whom love’s law has abased,
Or on the wealthy who is now made poor?
I was jealous of the breeze as it blows over you,
But when fate pounces, then men’s eyes are blind.
What can the archer do if, as he meets the foe,
His bow-string snaps just when he wants to shoot?
When cares mass to assault a man,
Where can he flee from destiny and fate?
When the king heard this lament, he got up and, following the sound, he found a curtain lowered over the door of a room. He lifted it and behind it he found a handsome young man, well made, eloquent, with a bright face, ruddy cheeks and a mole on his cheek like a disc of amber. He was seated on a couch raised one cubit from the ground and he fitted the poet’s description:
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 7
