Part 9

Towards midnight, when the Efreet goes forth, Meymooneh rose like a bubble from the bottom of the well and found the prince, beautiful in sleep, lying on a rough couch against the wall of his prison. Lost in wonder at his perfect loveliness, she gazed down upon him. For a while she stood thrilled with the thrill of the Efreet's love for a mortal, her outspread wings quivering above him; then at the call of her lifelong purpose she slowly folded her wings and drew back with a sigh. 'By Allah!' she murmured, 'I know now that He is good, or He could not have created a mortal so perfectly beautiful. I will fulfil my task and win my soul.' So saying she bent down and pressed a kiss between his eyes. He turned, dreaming that a rose-petal had fallen on his brow, but did not wake.

With glad heart and heel Meymooneh spurned the earth and soared aloft through the dungeon's roof, crying 'Dahnash! Dahnash!' Her summons was answered by a peal of thunder and a whirr of wings, as Dahnash appeared through a murky cloud. Torn from his demon abode he must needs come, for Meymooneh had power over him. By muttered spells she held him in mid-air, his eyes blazing, his tail lashing, and his wings vibrating feather against feather.

'Dahnash! sayest thou that she to whom I sent thee with the talisman is more perfect than any among mortals?'

'O Meymooneh!' replied he, fearing her glance, 'torture me as thou wilt if I have not told thee truly that there is none her equal: the _Lady Badoura_ is fair above all beauty among mortals.'

'Thou liest! He for whose sake I wrought the talisman is fairer.'

Word gave word in heated dissension, and Dahnash only escaped Meymooneh's wrath by pleading for a fair comparison of the two seen side by side.

'Go, then!' cried Meymooneh, buffeting him with her wing. 'Off with you to China and bring hither your bird of beauty. We will compare them side by side, as thou sayest; and then we will further prove the matter by waking first one and then the other to see which accords the other the more fervent protestations of love. Go! Bring her to my abode!'

On this Dahnash sped with incredible swiftness to China, while Meymooneh repaired to the dungeon where the prince was still in slumber.

In a brief space Dahnash reappeared at her side bearing the _Lady Badoura_ sleeping in his arms. He laid his lovely burden on the couch beside Camaralzaman, and the two Efreets, dumbfounded by the incomparable beauty of the pair, gazed upon them in speechless wonder.

'It is well we agreed that they themselves should decide,' said Meymooneh at length, 'for where both are perfect the decision is beyond our power.'

Then, transforming herself into a flea, she sprang forthwith upon the neck of the prince and bit him. Camaralzaman awoke, and, raising himself on one elbow, beheld the face and form of _Badoura_ by his side. Giving himself up to a sudden ecstasy of love, and crying that all his life had been a dream of which this was the waking fulfilment, he strove to arouse her; but in vain: she was bound by the spell of the Efreets, who, having rendered themselves invisible, were watching intently. At last, his words of love falling exhausted on her unconscious spirit, he placed his arm beneath her raven tresses, and, raising her head, kissed her on the brow with the purest love of youth. Then, by a sudden inspiration, on seeing a ring upon her finger, he exchanged it for his own; and, having done this, sank to sleep in obedience to the Efreets' spell.

Meymooneh, now anxious to show the other aspect of the case, again assumed the form of a flea, and, springing upon _Badoura_, soon found a way to bite her hard in a soft place. _Badoura_ sprang up wide awake and immediately beheld Camaralzaman sleeping by her side.

'Oh me!' she cried, 'what shame has come upon me? Yet, by Allah! he is so beautiful that I love him to distraction.' Then, after crying out the utmost words of love to his unheeding spirit, she fell to kissing his hands, whereupon she found to her amazement that her ring was upon his finger and a strange one upon her own. 'I know not,' cried she at last, 'but it seemeth we are married.' And with that she sighed with content, and, nestling to his side, fell under the Efreets' spell of sleep.

At a loss, even now, to decide which was the more beautiful, the Efreets agreed to waive their difference, and Dahnash, at the bidding of Meymooneh, raised _Badoura_ in his arms and sped through space to China.

When waking came with morning light the case with _Badoura_ was like that with Camaralzaman, save that the former, having quitted her couch, forgot it, whereas the latter was clearly certain he had not quitted his. Each discovered the other's ring bestowed in exchange. Each thrilled at the meaning of this pledge, which proved their meeting to have been no baseless dream. Each swore by Allah that a fiendish trick had been played at dead of night,--not in the wedding of them in their sleep, but in the snatching of them asunder before waking. _Badoura_ wailed for her husband; Camaralzaman rose in wrath and demanded his stolen wife. There was trouble in China and in Khaledan that day, and in each kingdom a sorrowful king wept for the madness of his first-born.

For three long years the pair nursed their love in separation and confinement. Camaralzaman was sent in splendid exile to a palace by the sea, but the wide expanse of waters only afforded him the greater space for the longing which consumed him. He could not know that, far across the ocean, the one he longed for was sitting, chained by the neck with a golden chain, there at the window of her palace tower--chained and guarded lest in her supposed madness she should hurl her body in the wake of her soul which rushed to meet him from afar. He could not know that her father, the king, had invited the astrologers and wise men to cure his daughter of her malady, the reward of success being her hand and half his kingdom, the punishment of failure the forfeiture of life; nay, he might even have rejoiced to know that already forty heads, relieved of wisdom, decked the walls of Gaiour's palace. Yet, O King of the Age, through the virtues of the talisman he was led thither to see and know.

One day _Badoura's_ old nurse arose from sleep bewildered, and, summoning her son Marzavan, she dispatched him on the track of the footprints of a dream. One in the wide world afar seemed to have come and gone, leaving nothing but a trail of the perfume of Paradise--a trail which Marzavan must follow. He set forth, and over land and sea he travelled on his quest. Now upon some fragrant gale he fancied he heard the voice of the one he sought; now in the sunset glow of the western hills he caught the echo of his horse's hoofs. Many he met who had heard of a prince afar who was mad for the love of one unknown, but none could pilot him to that prince's dwelling-place. At last it was the wing of chance--the certainty of talismans--that brought him to the feet of Camaralzaman. Through perilous adventure, ending in shipwreck, he found him and told him all. How they contrived their sudden flight and passage across land and sea I leave to your own thoughts, O King of the Age, for thou knowest in thy wisdom that, where none can find a way, Love will find a way.

So it transpired one day that the forty heads relieved of wisdom looked down approvingly upon a youthful astrologer beating with his staff upon the palace gates.

'By Allah!' cried the janitor on opening to him. 'Thou art in a mighty hurry to quit this life so soon.'

'Nay, I come to heal the _Lady Badoura_ of her malady. Let me in, and that quickly!'

He had his will. Then, step by step, each step an age, he followed up and up to the lonely tower. His hair seemed turning grey before he was admitted; but no sooner had he crossed the threshold than _Badoura_, with a cry of joy, rose and broke her golden chain, and sped to his arms, where she lay in bliss, pouring out her soul in sobs and kisses.

The cure was immediate. The king came in haste and saw in a moment that she was healed beyond the wildest hope of the forty bleached heads.

'Allah be praised!' he cried on seeing her face aglow and her eyes a-dancing with delight. 'There is indeed no god but Allah! For I perceive that He hath restored my daughter's reason.'

'Nay, my father,' returned she, 'Allah hath restored thy daughter's husband: her reason was never lacking.' And when, in proof of her words, she had shown the astonished king her own ring upon the finger of Camaralzaman, and his upon hers, she clung to her husband in an ecstasy of joy, returning his ardent kisses again and again and again.

When the whole story of Camaralzaman's perils and adventures by land and sea was told, the king marvelled greatly at the power of love that had drawn two sundered hearts together in so wonderful a fashion.

'Of a surety,' he said, 'the souls of these two have stood together in the Magic Isle of Love, where the woven moonbeams trap the hearts of lovers in one net. And, by Allah! though those silvery threads may stretch to the brink of the earth and the opposite sides of heaven, they must, at Allah's will, tighten again, drawing heart close to heart. Great is the will of Allah!'

* * * * *

The _Lady Badoura_, with her husband, Prince Camaralzaman, dwelt in the land of China in a state of the utmost delight and happiness for many, many days, beloved of the king and all the people. And _Badoura_ treasured the talisman that had brought such great joy: she wore it always,--sewn in her robe against the beating of her heart.

THE SLEEPER AWAKENED

A TALE FROM THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS

ABU HASAN THE WAG!

O my Lord the King, strange as was the story of Sindbad the Sailor, that of Abu Hasan the Wag is even stranger--indeed, there is no true story so strange in all the world. Abu Hasan--a mere merchant--awoke one morning to find himself caliph of Baghdad; and, as thou bidst me recall a tale of past telling, I will relate exactly how it happened.

Know, then, O King, that Abu Hasan the Wag, living in the reign of Harun-er-Rashid, inherited a large fortune from his father. As his wealth was no longer his father's but his own, he took thought as to how he might save at least some of it. Accordingly, without telling any one, he divided it into two equal parts, setting one part aside in a safe place and keeping the other at his disposal to lavish among his boon companions. 'In this way,' said he, 'I shall at once be risking only half my fortune and learning the way of the world; for I doubt not that when I have spent the one-half on my friends they will in their turn treat me in like fashion.' By which you will perceive, O King, that Abu Hasan, whose exact age I have not stated, was at least young.

A great man then was Abu Hasan. He had gold, and he summoned his boon companions to every delight his heart could devise. Long and loud was the revelry by night. Equally long were the bills by day. But Abu Hasan knew his friends: they were good fellows all, and he felt quite sure that when the half of his fortune was spent and they thought him penniless, they would turn to him and say, 'Thou didst treat us right royally while thou wast rich: now that thou art poor, come and partake, in your turn, of our _largesse_.' By which you will perceive, O King, that he was not growing any older.

A whole year passed in riotous living and extravagant generosity. Then, finding the money exhausted, he called his boon companions and laid his case before them, expecting what he did not receive. Every one of them turned his back and left him with the utmost unconcern. Some called him a fool; others could not imagine what he had done with all his money: all took their leave and went their ways.

A sad man then was Abu Hasan and, like all sad men, he sought his mother.

'O my son,' said she, stroking his hair, 'was it not always so? Thou wast rich: they were thy friends. Thou art poor: where is their friendship? My son, thou hast sold it and paid for it thyself. Alas! learn from this never to put thy trust in the friends of thy purse.' And, with his head upon her lap, she wept over him bitterly.

A changed man then was Abu Hasan. He arose and went forth, no longer young, and withdrew from its safe keeping the remaining half of his fortune. With a part of this--being still a man of wealth--he purchased a mansion and filled it with all manner of delights till it was fit to charm the heart of the caliph himself; and there he dwelt in luxury, as befitted a man of his station. But, having purchased a fragment of wisdom at the price of half his original fortune, he resolved to make use of it. He would have done with friends and have to do only with strangers, and these, moreover, should remain strangers, for his associationship with any one of them should be for one night only;--at dawn 'Farewell! Henceforth I know you not; for I have been sorely bit by friends; by strangers never.'

In the evenings, when the purple twilight fell upon Baghdad, Abu Hasan would take up a position at the end of the great bridge, and there, sooner or later, he would accost a stranger, pressing upon him a warm invitation to spend the night under his roof, and promising him the best of entertainment. Indeed, being of a gay and merry disposition, he sought even to choose one of a melancholy cast, so that he might exercise his wit upon him and cause his face to shine with mirth. In the morning he would send his guest away with his blessing, having explained to him the nature of his oath and exacted his promise to regard him henceforth as a perfect stranger. 'And so, farewell! May God conduct you in safe and pleasant ways!'

For a long time he behaved in this manner, providing the best of entertainment and adhering closely to his oath. At length there came an evening when he was waiting as usual on the bridge, and it chanced that the caliph of Baghdad himself came by, disguised as a merchant--a favourite amusement of his when he wished to traverse the ways of the city and see how his people fared. Abu Hasan looked at him as he passed, and taking him, by his dress and the stout slave following him, for a merchant from Moussul, and therefore a stranger in the city, he accosted him.

'Sir,' he said, saluting gracefully, 'permit me to compliment you on your happy arrival in Baghdad. Not, indeed, to show you that this is a hospitable city, but rather that I may have the honour of your company at my house, I beg that you will accept my invitation to come and sup with me and rest yourself after the fatigue of your journey.'

The caliph, always in the mood for an adventure, accepted gladly, and together they repaired to Hasan's abode, the slave following after. When they arrived they found supper laid for two, and in the most sumptuous style. Hasan, treating his guest with every courtesy, seated him in the place of honour.

The apartment was most luxurious. On one side trickled streams of water through silver channels half hidden among rare ferns. On another side golden fountains played in cool grottoes, and, over all, a soft light falling from a wonderful lamp overhead wrapped the richness of the place in a dreamy glamour.

Towards the end of the repast a beautiful slave-girl floated in with her lute and sang a song of love, inspired by the soft languor of the night. And the caliph wondered concerning his host: what manner of man was he to entertain so royally?

When supper was over, and everything cleared away, Hasan arose, and, having lighted a number of candles to throw a brighter light on the scene, spread a rich wine-cloth and brought out his rarest wines. He did these things himself, because it was always his whim after supper to play the servant to his guest as if he were a royal personage.

'My master,' he said, filling a golden goblet with wine and raising it to the caliph, 'I make you free of all ceremony. I am thy faithful servitor, and may I never have to grieve thy loss.' With this he drank the wine and then filled another goblet for his guest. 'I warrant you will find it good,' he said, handing it to him on bended knee.

'I am satisfied of that,' replied the caliph; 'I can see you have nothing but the best of everything.' And he drank to Abu Hasan.

Far into the night they sat and talked of many things. The caliph was pleased at his host's waggish whim of playing the rôle of servant to a royal master, and Hasan, for his part, was delighted at his guest's refined manners and his great knowledge on many subjects. 'I am, indeed, a proud man to be honoured by the company of so accomplished and polite a personage,' he said, and, even if he had known that he was entertaining the caliph of Baghdad, he could not have treated his guest in better fashion.

At length, when they had pledged each other in many glasses of wine, and the hours were growing small, the caliph remarked, 'Mine host, thou hast seen for thyself how greatly I have enjoyed this pleasant intercourse; and, as I would not seem ungrateful, pray tell me in what way I may serve thee. I am but a merchant of Moussul, but if there be any request dear to thy heart, I beg thee to mention it, for, though a stranger in this city, I have some friends who sit in high places.'

'Nay, my master,' replied Abu Hasan; 'my entertainment has been more than rewarded by the gracious presence of a charming guest. Any other recompense would spoil my memory of this night and thee.'

'As you will. But let us suppose now--both of us being greatly tickled by this most fragrant wine--if I had the power to grant the dearest wish of thy heart, what would that wish be?'

Abu Hasan laughed and took up the quaint conceit. 'The dearest wish of my heart?' said he; 'I will tell it thee in a trice. Yonder, at the cast of a stone, stands a mosque, and the imam of that mosque is a hypocrite of an exalted degree. Indeed, among hypocrites he stands at the head of his profession. He lords it over the whole neighbourhood, and especially over me, for, when he hears music and revelry during the hours that every self-respecting imam should be asleep, he ceases not to persecute me on the matter until I have no stomach for anything that is his. Ah! if I were caliph, even for a single day, then would I punish this wicked man in a fitting fashion. A hundred strokes on the soles of his feet--not less! Then a parade through the city--a triumphal procession headed by that sycophant impaled on a camel, with his face to the tail to signify that he is on his way to Paradise in the wrong direction. And, not to pay too poor a tribute to his skilled hypocrisy, I would give him a cortège: four of his sheiks who aid and abet him in his kill-joy persecutions should follow him at an admiring and respectful distance, each impaled upon a camel, and each bound for Paradise with his face pointing the other way. Then, by Allah! the people would follow this great procession, crying, "Behold, such is the reward of fools and interferers!" This would I do if I were caliph for a single day, but----' And Hasan the Wag broke off, laughing. His guest laughed with him, for he was mightily amused. Suddenly his face became as the face of one who hath a purpose; then, to conceal that purpose, he laughed again, louder than before.

'Mine host,' he cried, as soon as he could contain himself, 'verily thou art a wag!' Then he took a bottle and filled a goblet with sparkling wine. 'May thy wish be granted,' he said, and drained the goblet. 'Pray, friend,' he went on, 'while I fill a cup for thee, wilt thou be so good as to ascertain the condition of my slave beneath thy roof. I doubt not that he is comfortably situated, but he is a faithful servant, and well deserveth the solicitude of his master.'

Abu Hasan admired his guest the more for his thought for his slave. He arose quickly and went to see into the matter himself, for by this time his whole household had retired to rest. While he was gone the caliph drew a lozenge of benj--a powerful opiate--from the inner recesses of his dress and dropped it into the goblet, which he quickly filled with wine. When Hasan returned, saying that the slave had been well cared for, the caliph handed him the wine. 'You have filled for me many times,' he said; 'now I have filled for you. Drink, I pray thee, for my sake.'

Abu Hasan took the goblet, and, eager to fulfil the slightest wish of his guest, drank deep. Then, scarcely had he set down the goblet, when his senses reeled. He threw up his arms and was falling prone when the caliph sprang to his aid and gently laid him down upon the soft cushions. The benj had done its work: Abu Hasan was in a deep sleep.

The caliph now summoned his slave, and directed him to take up the unconscious body of his host and carry it to the palace. So they set out, unobserved at that late hour; and, when they reached their destination, the caliph gave orders that Abu Hasan be undressed, clothed in the royal robes, and put to bed upon the royal couch. This was soon done.

Then the caliph summoned his grand vizier.