The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol 5 by Sir Richard Francis Burton (best romance novels of all time txt) 📕

She answered, “The sugar-cane;” and he said, “Tell me of many things.” Asked she, “What are they?” and he said, “What is sweeter than honey; what is sharper than the sword; what is swifter than poison; what is the delight of a moment and what the contentment of three days; what is the pleasantest of days; what is the joy of a week; what is that debt the worst debtor denieth not; what is the prison of the tomb; what is the joy of the heart; what is the snare of the soul; what is death-in-life; what is the disease that may not be healed; what is the shame that may not be wiped off; what is the beast that woneth not in cultivated fields, but lodgeth in waste places and hateth the sons of Adam and hath in him somewhat of the make of seven strong and violent beasts?” Quoth she, “Hear what I shall say in reply; then put off thy clothes, that I may explain to thee;” and the Caliph said, “Expound, and he shall doff his clothes.” So she said, “Now that, which is sweeter than honey, is the love of pious children to their two parents; that, which is sharper than the sword, is the tongue; that, which is swifter than poison, is the Envier’s eye; the delight of a moment is carnal copulation and the contentment of three days is the depilatory for women; the pleasantest of days is that of profit on merchandise; the joy of a week is the bride; the debt, which the worst debtor denieth not, is death; the prison of the tomb is a bad son; the joy of the heart is a woman obedient to her husband (and it is said also that, when fleshmeat descendeth upon the heart, it rejoiceth therein); the snare of the soul is a disobedient slave; death-in-life is poverty; the disease that may not be healed is an ill-nature, and the shame that may not be wiped away is an ill daughter; lastly, the beast that woneth not in cultivated fields, but lodgeth in waste places and hateth the sons of Adam and hath in him somewhat of the make of seven strong and violent beasts, is the locust, whose head is as the head of a horse, its neck as the neck of the bull, its wings as the wings of the vulture, its feet as the feet of the camel, its tail as the tail of the serpent, its belly as the belly of the scorpion and its horns as the horns of the gazelle.” The Caliph was astounded at her quickness and understanding, and said to the rhetorician, “Doff thy clothes.”

So he rose up and cried, “I call all who are present in this assembly to witness that she is more learned than I and every other learned man.” And he put off his clothes and gave them to her, saying, “Take them and may Allah not bless them to thee!” So the Caliph ordered him fresh clothes and said, “O Tawaddud, there is one thing left of that for which thou didst engage, namely, chess.” And he sent for experts of chess and cards[FN#448] and trictrac. The chess-player sat down before her, and they set the pieces, and he moved and she moved; but, every move he made she speedily countered,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Four Hundred and Sixty-first Night, She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the damsel was playing chess with the expert in presence of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, whatever move he made was speedily countered by her, till she beat him and he found himself checkmated. Quoth he, “I did but lead thee on, that thou mightest think thyself skilful: but set up again, and thou shalt see.” So they placed the pieces a second time, when he said in himself, “Open thine eyes or she will beat thee.” And he fell to moving no piece, save after calculation, and ceased not to play, till she said, “Thy King is dead!—Checkmate.” When he saw this he was confounded at her quickness and understanding; but she laughed and said, “O professor, I will make a wager with thee on this third game. I will give thee the queen and the right-hand castle and the left-hand knight; if thou beat me, take my clothes, and if I beat thee, I will take thy clothes.” Replied he, “I agree to this;” and they replaced the pieces, she removing queen, castle and knight.[FN#449] Then said she, “Move, O

master.” So he moved, saying to himself, “I cannot but beat her, with such odds,” and planned a combination; but, behold, she moved on, little by little, till she made one of her pawns[FN#450] a queen and pushing up to him pawns and other pieces, to take off his attention, set one in his way and tempted him to take it. Accordingly, he took it and she said to him, “The measure is meted and the loads equally balanced.[FN#451] Eat till thou are over-full; naught shall be thy ruin, O son of Adam, save thy greed. Knowest thou not that I did but tempt thee, that I might finesse thee? See: this is checkmate!” adding, “So doff off thy clothes.” Quoth he, “Leave me my bag-trousers, so Allah repay thee;” and he swore by Allah that he would contend with none, so long as Tawaddud abode in the realm of Baghdad. Then he stripped off his clothes and gave them to her and went away.

Thereupon came the backgammon-player, and she said to him, “If I beat thee, this day, what wilt thou give me?” Quoth he, “I will give thee ten suits of brocade of Constantinople, figured with gold, and ten suits of velvet and a thousand gold pieces; and if I beat thee, I ask nothing but that thou write me an acknowledgment of my victory.” Quoth she, “To it, then, and do thy best.” So they played, and he lost and went away, chattering in Frankish jargon and saying, “By the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful, there is not her like in all the regions of the world!” Then the Caliph summoned players on instruments of music and asked her, “Dost thou know aught of music?”; when she answered, “Even so!” He bade bring a worn lute, polished by use, whose owner forlorn and lone was by parting trodden down; and of which quoth one, describing it

“Allah watered a land, and upsprang a tree * Struck root deep down, and raised head a-sky:

The birds o’ersang it when green its wood; * And the Fair o’ersing now the wood is dry.”

So they brought the lute in a bag of red satin, with tassels of saffron-coloured silk: and she opened the bag, and took it out and behold on it was graven,

“Oft hath a tender bough made lute for maid, * whose swift sweet lays at feast men’s hearts invade: She sings; it follows on her song, as though * The Bulbuls[FN#452] taught her all the modes she played.”

She laid her lute in her lap and with bosom inclining over it, bent to it with the bending of a mother who suckleth her child; then she preluded in twelve different modes, till the whole assembly was agitated with delight, like a waving sea, and she sang the following,

“Cut short this strangeness, leave unruth of you; * My heart shall love you aye, by youth of you!

Have ruth on one who sighs and weeps and moans, * Pining and yearning for the troth of you.”

The Caliph was ravished and exclaimed, “Allah bless thee and be merciful to him who taught thee!”: whereupon she rose and kissed the ground before him. Then he sent for money and paid her master Abu al-Husn an hundred thousand gold pieces to her price; after which he said to her, “O Tawaddud, ask a boon of me!” Replied she, “I ask of thee that thou restore me to my lord who sold me.”

“‘Tis well,” answered the Caliph and restored her to her master and gave her five thousand dinars for herself. Moreover, he appointed Abu al-Husn one of his cup-companions for a permanence,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Four Hundred and Sixty-second Night, She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Caliph gave the damsel five thousand dinars for herself and restored her to her master whom he appointed one of his cup-companions for a permanence and assigned him a monthly stipend of a thousand dinars so long as he should live; and he abode with the damsel Tawaddud in all solace and delight of life. Marvel then, O King, at the eloquence of this damsel and the hugeness of her learning and understanding and her perfect excellence in all branches of art and science; and consider the generosity of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, in that he gave her master this money and said to her, “Ask a boon of me;” and she besought him to restore her to her lord. So he restored her to him and gave her five thousand dinars for herself and made him one of his boon-companions. Where is such generosity to be found after the Abbaside Caliphs?—May Allah Almighty have mercy upon them, one and all! And they tell a tale of

THE ANGEL OF DEATH WITH THE PROUD KING

AND THE DEVOUT MAN.

It is related, O auspicious King, that one of the olden monarchs was once minded to ride out in state with the Officers of his realm and the Grandees of his retinue and display to the folk the marvels of his magnificence. So he ordered his Lords and Emirs equip them therefor and commanded his keeper of the wardrobe to bring him of the richest of raiment, such as befitted the King in his state; and he bade them bring his steeds[FN#453] of the finest breeds and pedigrees every man heeds; which being done, he chose out of the raiment what rejoiced him most and of the horses that which he deemed best; and, donning the clothes, together with a collar set with margarites and rubies and all manner jewels, mounted and set forth in state, making his destrier prance and curvet among his troops and glorying in his pride and despotic power. And Iblis came to him and, laying his hand upon his nose, blew into his nostrils the breath of hauteur and conceit, so that he magnified and glorified himself and said in his heart, “Who among men is like unto me?” And he became so puffed up with arrogance and self-sufficiency, and so taken up with the thought of his own splendour and magnificence, that he would not vouchsafe a glance to any man. Presently, there stood before him one clad in tattered clothes and saluted him, but he returned not his salam; whereupon the stranger laid hold of his horse’s bridle. “Lift thy hand,” cried the King, “thou knowest not whose bridle-rein it is whereof thou takest hold.” Quoth the other, I have a need of thee.” Quoth the King, “Wait till I alight and then name thy need.” Rejoined the stranger, “It is a secret and I will not tell it but in thine ear.” So the King bowed his head to him and he said, “I am the Angel of Death and I purpose to take thy soul.” Replied the King, “Have patience with me a little, whilst I return to my house and take leave of my people and children and neighbours and wife.” “By no means so,”

answered the Angel; “thou shalt never return nor