Part 27
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the slave-girl thus addressed the jeweller, "And in very sooth my lady hath none by her more trusted or more trustworthy in matter of secrecy than myself. So go thou, O my master, and speed thee without delay to Ali bin Bakkar; and acquaint him with this, that he may be on his guard and ward; and, if the affair be discovered, we will cast about for some means whereby to save our lives." On this (continued the jeweller), I was seized with sore trouble and the world grew dark in my sight for the slave-girl's words; and when she was about to wend, I said to her, "What reckest thou and what is to be done?" Quoth she, "My counsel is that thou hasten to Ali bin Bakkar, if thou be indeed his friend and desire to save him; thine be it to carry him this news at once without aught of stay and delay, or regard for far and near; and mine be it to sniff about for further news." Then she took her leave of me and went away: so I rose and followed her track and, betaking myself to Ali bin Bakkar, found him flattering himself with impossible expectations. When he saw me returning to him so soon, he said, "I see thou hast come back to me forthwith and only too soon." I answered, "Patience, and cut short this foolish connection and shake off the pre-occupation wherein thou art, for there hath befallen that which may bring about the loss of thy life and good." Now when he heard this, he was troubled and strongly moved; and he said to me, "O my brother, tell me what hath happened." Replied I, "O my lord, know that such and such things have happened and thou art lost without recourse, if thou abide in this thy house till the end of the day." At this, he was confounded and his soul well-nigh departed his body, but he recovered himself and said to me, "What shall I do, O my brother, and what counsel hast thou to offer?" Answered I, "My advice is that thou take what thou canst of thy property and whom of thy slaves thou trustest, and flee with us to a land other than this, ere this very day come to an end." And he said, "I hear and I obey." So he rose, confused and dazed like one in epilepsy, now walking and now falling, and took what came under his hand. Then he made an excuse to his household and gave them his last injunctions, after which he loaded three camels and mounted his beast; and I did likewise. We went forth privily in disguise and fared on and ceased not our wayfare the rest of that day and all its night, till nigh upon morning, when we unloaded and, hobbling our camels, lay down to sleep. But we were worn with fatigue and we neglected to keep watch, so that there fell upon us robbers, who stripped us of all we had and slew our slaves, when these would have beaten them off, leaving us naked and in the sorriest of plights, after they had taken our money and lifted our beasts and disappeared. As soon as they were gone, we arose and walked on till morning dawned, when we came to a village which we entered, and finding a mosque took refuge therein for we were naked. So we sat in a corner all that day and we passed the next night without meat or drink; and at daybreak we prayed our dawn-prayer and sat down again. Presently behold, a man entered and saluting us prayed a two-bow prayer, after which he turned to us and said, "O folk, are ye strangers?" We replied, "Yes: the bandits waylaid us and stripped us naked, and we came to this town but know none here with whom we may shelter." Quoth he, "What say ye? will you come home with me?" And (pursued the jeweller) I said to Ali bin Bakkar, "Up and let us go with him, and we shall escape two evils; the first, our fear lest some one who knoweth us enter this mosque and recognise us, so that we come to disgrace; and the second, that we are strangers and have no place wherein to lodge." And he answered helplessly, "As thou wilt." Then the man said to us again, "O ye poor folk, give ear unto me and come with me to my place," and I replied, "Hearkening and obedience;" whereupon he pulled off a part of his own clothes and covered us therewith and made his excuses to us and spoke kindly to us. Then we arose and accompanied him to his house and he knocked at the door, whereupon a little slave-boy came out and opened to us. The host entered and we followed him;[214] when he called for a bundle of clothes and muslins for turbands, and gave us each a suit and a piece; so we dressed and turbanded ourselves and sat us down. Presently, in came a damsel with a tray of food and set it before us, saying, "Eat." We ate some small matter and she took away the tray: after which we abode with our host till nightfall, when Ali bin Bakkar sighed and said to me, "Know, O my brother, that I am a dying man past hope of life and I would charge thee with a charge: it is that, when thou seest me dead, thou go to my parent[215] and tell her of my decease and bid her come hither that she may be here to receive the visits of condolence and be present at the washing of my corpse; and do thou exhort her to bear my loss with patience." Then he fell down in a fainting fit and, when he recovered he heard a damsel singing afar off and making verses as she sang. Thereupon he addressed himself to give ear to her and hearken to her voice; and now he was insensible, absent from the world, and now he came to himself; and anon he wept for grief and mourning at the love which had befallen him. Presently, he heard the damsel who was singing repeat these couplets:—
Parting ran up to part from lover-twain ✿ Free converse, perfect concord, friendship fain: The Nights with shifting drifted us apart, ✿ Would heaven I wot if we shall meet again: How bitter after meeting 'tis to part, ✿ May lovers ne'er endure so bitter pain! Death-grip, death-choke, lasts for an hour and ends, ✿ But parting-tortures aye in heart remain: Could we but trace where Parting's house is placed, ✿ We would make Parting eke of parting taste!
When Ali son of Bakkar heard the damsel's song, he sobbed one sob and his soul quitted his body. As soon as I saw that he was dead (continued the jeweller), I committed his corpse to the care of the house-master and said to him "Know thou, that I am going to Baghdad, to tell his mother and kinsfolk, that they may come hither and conduct his burial." So I betook myself to Baghdad and, going to my house, changed my clothes; after which I repaired to Ali bin Bakkar's lodging. Now when his servants saw me, they came to me and questioned me of him, and I bade them ask permission for me to go in to his mother. She gave me leave; so I entered and saluting her, said, "Verily Allah ordereth the lives of all creatures by His commandment and when He decreeth aught, there is no escaping its fulfilment; nor can any soul depart but by leave of Allah, according to the Writ which affirmeth the appointed term."[216] She guessed by these words that her son was dead and wept with sore weeping, then she said to me, "Allah upon thee! tell me, is my son dead?" I could not answer her for tears and excess of grief, and when she saw me thus, she was choked with weeping and fell to the ground in a fit. As soon as she came to herself she said to me, "Tell me how it was with my son." I replied, "May Allah abundantly compensate thee for his loss!" and I told her all that had befallen him from beginning to end. She then asked, "Did he give thee any charge?"; and I answered, "Yes," and told her what he had said, adding, "Hasten to perform his funeral." When she heard these words, she swooned away again; and, when she recovered, she addressed herself to do as I charged her. Then I returned to my house; and as I went along musing sadly upon the fair gifts of his youth, behold, a woman caught hold of my hand;——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller thus continued:—A woman caught hold of my hand; and I looked at her and lo! it was the slave-girl who used to come from Shams al-Nahar, and she seemed broken by grief. When we knew each other we both wept and ceased not weeping till we reached my house, and I said to her, "Knowest thou the news of the youth, Ali bin Bakkar?" She replied, "No, by Allah!"; so I told her the manner of his death and all that had passed, whilst we both wept; after which quoth I to her, "How is it with thy mistress?" Quoth she, "The Commander of the Faithful would not hear a single word against her; but, for the great love he bore her, saw all her actions in a favourable light, and said to her:—O Shams al-Nahar, thou art dear to me and I will bear with thee and bring the noses of thy foes to the grindstone. Then he bade them furnish her an apartment decorated with gold and a handsome sleeping-chamber, and she abode with him in all ease of life and high favour. Now it came to pass that one day, as he sat at wine according to his custom, with his favourite concubines in presence, he bade them be seated in their several ranks and made Shams al-Nahar sit by his side. But her patience had failed and her disorder had redoubled upon her. Then he bade one of the damsels sing: so she took a lute and tuning it struck the chords, and began to sing these verses:—
One craved my love and I gave all he craved of me, ✿ And tears on cheek betray how 'twas I came to yield: Tear-drops, meseemeth, are familiar with our case, ✿ Revealing what I hide, hiding what I revealed: How can I hope in secret to conceal my love, ✿ Which stress of passion ever showeth unconcealed: Death, since I lost my lover, is grown sweet to me; ✿ Would I knew what their joys when I shall quit the field!"
Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses sung by the slave-girl, she could not keep her seat; but fell down in a fainting-fit whereupon the Caliph cast the cup from his hand and drew her to him crying out; and the damsels also cried out, and the Prince of True Believers turned her over and shook her, and lo and behold! she was dead. The Caliph grieved over her death with sore grief and bade break all the vessels and dulcimers[217] and other instruments of mirth and music which were in the room; then carrying her body to his closet, he abode with her the rest of the night. When the day broke, he laid her out and commanded to wash her and shroud her and bury her. And he mourned for her with sore mourning, and questioned not of her case nor of what caused her condition. And I beg thee in Allah's name (continued the damsel) to let me know the day of the coming of Ali bin Bakkar's funeral procession that I may be present at his burial." Quoth I, "For myself, where thou wilt thou canst find me; but thou, where art thou to be found, and who can come at thee where thou art?" She replied, "On the day of Shams al-Nahar's death, the Commander of the Faithful freed all her women, myself among the rest;[218] and I am one of those now abiding at the tomb in such a place." So I rose and accompanied her to the burial-ground and piously visited Shams al-Nahar's tomb; after which I went my way and ceased not to await the coming of Ali bin Bakkar's funeral. When it arrived, the people of Baghdad went forth to meet it and I went forth with them; and I saw the damsel among the women and she the loudest of them in lamentation, crying out and wailing with a voice that rent the vitals and made the heart ache. Never was seen in Baghdad a finer funeral than his; and we ceased not to follow in crowds till we reached the cemetery and buried him to the mercy of Almighty Allah; nor from that time to this have I ceased to visit the tombs of Ali son of Bakkar and of Shams al-Nahar. This, then, is their story, and Allah Almighty have mercy upon them!"[219] And yet is not their tale (continued Shahrazad) more wonderful than that of King Shahrimán. The King asked her "And what was his tale?"——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
Now when it was the Hundred and Seventieth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, as regards the
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Footnote 175:
_i.e._ a descendant, not a Prince.
Footnote 176:
The Arab shop is a kind of hole in the wall and buyers sit upon its outer edge. (Pilgrimage i. 99).
Footnote 177:
By a similar image the chamæleon is called Abú Kurrat = Father of coolness; because it is said to have the "coldest" eye of all animals and insensible to heat and light, since it always looks at the sun.
Footnote 178:
This dividing the hemistich words is characteristic of certain tales; so I have retained it although inevitably suggesting:—
I left Matilda at the U- niversity of Gottingen.
Footnote 179:
These naïve offers in Eastern tales mostly come from the true seducer—Eve. Europe, and England especially, still talks endless absurdity upon the subject. A man of the world may "seduce" an utterly innocent (which means an ignorant) girl. But to "seduce" a married woman! What a farce!
Footnote 180:
Masculine again for feminine: the lines are as full of word-plays, vulgarly called puns, as Sanskrit verses.
Footnote 181:
The Eastern heroine always has a good appetite and eats well. The sensible Oriental would infinitely despise that _maladive_ Parisienne in whom our neighbours delight, and whom I long to send to the Hospital.
Footnote 182:
_i.e._ her rivals have discovered the secret of her heart.
Footnote 183:
_i.e._ blood as red as wine.
Footnote 184:
The wine-cup (sun-like) shines in thy hand; thy teeth are bright as the Pleiads and thy face rises like a moon from the darkness of thy dress-collar.
Footnote 185:
The masculine of Marjánah (Morgiana) "the she coral-branch;" and like this a name generally given to negroes. We have seen white applied to a blackamoor by way of metonomy and red is also connected with black skins by way of fun. A Persian verse says:
"If a black wear red, e'en an ass would grin."
Footnote 186:
Suggesting that she had been sleeping.
Footnote 187:
Arab. "Raushan," a window projecting and latticed: the word is orig. Persian: so Raushaná (splendour) = Roxana. It appears to me that this beautiful name gains beauty by being understood.
Footnote 188:
The word means any servant, but here becomes a proper name. "Wasífah" usually = a concubine.
Footnote 189:
_i.e._ eagerness, desire, love-longing.
Footnote 190:
Arab. "Rind," which may mean willow (oriental), bay or aloes wood: Al-Asma'i denies that it ever signifies myrtle.
Footnote 191:
These lines occur in Night cxiv: by way of variety I give (with permission) Mr. Payne's version (iii. 59).
Footnote 192:
Referring to the proverb "Al-Khauf maksúm" = fear (cowardice) is equally apportioned: _i.e._ If I fear you, you fear me.
Footnote 193:
The fingers of the right band are struck upon the palm of the left.
Footnote 194:
There are intricate rules for "joining" the prayers; but this is hardly the place for a subject discussed in all religious treatises. (Pilgrimage iii. 239.)
Footnote 195:
The hands being stained with Henna and perhaps indigo in stripes are like the ring-rows of chain armour. See Lane's illustration (Mod. Egypt, chapt. i.)
Footnote 196:
She made rose-water of her cheeks for my drink and she bit with teeth like grains of hail those lips like the lotus-fruit, or jujube: Arab. "Unnab" or "Nabk," the plum of the Sidr or Zizyphus lotus.
Footnote 197:
Meaning to let Patience run away like an untethered camel.
Footnote 198:
_i.e._ her fair face shining through the black hair. "Camphor" is a favourite with Arab poets; the Persians hate it because connected in their minds with death; being used for purifying the corpse. We read in Burckhardt (Prov. 464) "Singing without siller is like a corpse without Hanút"—this being a mixture of camphor and rose-water sprinkled over the face of the dead before shrouded. Similarly Persians avoid speaking of coffee, because they drink it at funerals and use tea at other times.
Footnote 199:
_i.e._ she is angry and bites her carnelion lips with pearly teeth.
Footnote 200:
Arab. "Wa ba'ad;" the formula which follows "Bismillah"—In the name of Allah. The French translate it _or sus_, etc. I have noticed the legend about its having been first used by the eloquent Koss, Bishop of Najrán.
Footnote 201:
_i.e._ Her mind is so troubled she cannot answer for what she writes.
Footnote 202:
The Bul. Edit. (i. 329) and the Mac. Edit. (i. 780) give to Shams al-Nahar the greater part of Ali's answer, as is shown by the Calc. Edit. (230 _et seq._) and the Bresl. Edit. (ii. 366 _et seq._). Lane mentions this (ii. 74) but in his usual perfunctory way gives no paginal references to the Calc, or Bresl.; so that those who would verify the text may have the displeasure of hunting for it.
Footnote 203:
Arab. "Bi'smi 'lláhi' r-Rahmáni'r-Rahím." This auspicatory formula was borrowed by Al-Islam not from the Jews but from the Guebre "Ba nám-i-Yezdán bakhsháishgar-i-dádár!" (in the name of Yezdan—God—All-generous, All-just!) The Jews have, "In the name of the Great God;" and the Christians, "In the name of the Father, etc." The so-called Sir John Mandeville begins his book, In the name of God, Glorious and Almighty. The sentence forms the first of the Koran and heads every chapter except only the ninth, an exception for which recondite reasons are adduced. Hence even in the present day it begins all books, letters and writings in general; and it would be a sign of Infidelity (_i.e._ non-Islamism) to omit it. The difference between "Rahmán" and "Rahím" is that the former represents an accidental (compassionating), the latter a constant quality (compassionate). Sale therefore renders it very imperfectly by "In the name of the most merciful God;" the Latinists better, "In nomine Dei misericordis, clementissimi" (Gottwaldt in Hamza Ispahanensis); Mr. Badger much better, "In the name of God, the Pitiful, the Compassionate"—whose only fault is not preserving the assonance: and Maracci best, "In nomine Dei miseratoris, misericordis."
Footnote 204:
Arab. Majnún (_i.e._ one possessed by a Jinni) the well-known model lover of Layla, a fictitious personage for whom see D'Herbelot (_s. v._ Megnoun). She was celebrated by Abu Mohammed Nizam al-Din of Ganjah (ob. A.H. 597 = 1200) pop. known as Nizámi, the caustic and austere poet who wrote:—
The weals of this world are the ass's meed! Would Nizámi were of the ass's breed.
The series in the East begins chronologically with Yúsuf and Zulaykhá (Potiphar's wife) sung by Jámi (nat. A.H. 817 = 1414); the next in date is Khusraw and Shirin (also by Nizami); Farhad and Shirin; and Layla and Majnun (the Night-black maid and the Maniac-man) are the last. We are obliged to compare the lovers with "Romeo and Juliet," having no corresponding instances in modern days: the classics of Europe supply a host as Hero and Leander, Theagenes and Charicleia, etc. etc.
Footnote 205:
The jeweller of Eastern tales from Marocco to Calcutta, is almost invariably a rascal: here we have an exception.
Footnote 206:
This must not be understood of sealing-wax, which, however, is of ancient date. The Egyptians (Herod. ii. 38) used "sealing earth" (γῆ σημαντρίς) probably clay, impressed with a signet (δακτὺλιον); the Greeks mud-clay (πηλός); and the Romans first cretula and then wax (Beckmann). Mediæval Europe had bees-wax tempered with Venice turpentine and coloured with cinnabar or similar material. The modern sealing-wax, whose distinctive is shell-lac, was brought by the Dutch from India to Europe; and the earliest seals date from about A.D. 1560. They called it Ziegel-lak, whence the German Siegel-lack, the French preferring _cire-à-cacheter_, as distinguished from _cire-à-sceller_, the softer material. The use of sealing-wax in India dates from old times and the material, though coarse and unsightly, is still preferred by Anglo-Indians because it resists heat whereas the best English softens like pitch.
Footnote 207:
Evidently referring to the runaway Abu al-Hasan, not to the she-Mercury.
Footnote 208:
An unmarried man is not allowed to live in a respectable quarter of a Moslem city unless he takes such precaution. Lane (Mod. Egypt. _passim_) has much to say on this point; and my excellent friend the late Professor Spitta at Cairo found the native prejudice very troublesome.
Footnote 209:
Arab. "Yá fulán" = O certain person (fulano in Span. and Port.) a somewhat contemptuous address.
Footnote 210:
Mr. Payne remarks, "These verses apparently relate to Aboulhusn, but it is possible that they may be meant to refer to Shemsennehar." (iii. 80.)
Footnote 211:
Arab. and Pers. "Bulúr" (vulg. billaur) retaining the venerable tradition of the Belus-river. In Al-Hariri (Ass. of Halwán) it means crystal and there is no need of proposing to translate it by onyx or to identify it with the Greek βήρυλλος, the beryl.
Footnote 212:
The door is usually shut with a wooden bolt.
Footnote 213:
Arab. "Ritánah," from "Ratan," speaking any tongue not Arabic, the allusion being to foreign mercenaries, probably Turks. In later days Turkish was called Muwalla', a pied horse, from its mixture of languages.
Footnote 214:
This is the rule; to guard against the _guet-apens_.
Footnote 215:
Arab. "Wálidati," used when speaking to one not of the family in lieu of the familiar "Ummi" = my mother. So the father is Wálid = the begetter.
Footnote 216:
This is one of the many euphemistic formulæ for such occasions: they usually begin "May thy head live," etc.
Footnote 217:
Arab. "Kánún" Gr. κανὼν, an instrument not unlike the Austrian zither; it is illustrated in Lane (ii. 77).
Footnote 218:
This is often done, the merit of the act being transferred to the soul of the deceased.
Footnote 219:
The two amourists were martyrs; and their amours, which appear exaggerated to the Western mind, have many parallels in the East. The story is a hopeless affair of love; with only one moral (if any be wanted) viz., there may be too much of a good thing. It is given very concisely in the Bul. Edit. vol. i.; and more fully in the Mac. Edit. aided in places by the Bresl. (ii. 320) and the Calc. (ii. 230).
TALE OF KAMAR AL-ZAMAN,