wife’s gear, bought a camel and hired an ass for Zoulmekan; and they set out and reached Damascus at nightfall after six days’ journey. They alighted there, and the stoker went to the market and bought meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in Damascus, when his wife sickened and after a few days’ illness, was translated to the mercy of God. The stoker mourned for her with an exceeding grief, and her death was no light matter to Zoulmekan, for she had tended him assiduously and he was grown used to her. Presently, he turned to the stoker and finding him mourning, said to him, “Do not grieve, for we must all go in at this gate.”[FN#24] “God requite thee with good, O my son!” replied the stoker. “Surely He will compensate us with his bounties and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my son? Shall we walk abroad to view Damascus and cheer our spirits?” “Thy will is mine,” replied Zoulmekan. So the stoker took him by the hand, and they sallied forth and walked on, till they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs and saddle-horses and Bactrian camels and slaves, white and black, and folk running to and fro and a great bustle. Quoth Zoulmekan, “I wonder to whom all these camels and stuffs and servants belong!” So he asked one of the slaves, and he replied, “These are presents that the Viceroy of Damascus is sending to King Omar ben Ennuman, with the tribute of Syria.” When Zoulmekan heard his father’s name, his eyes filled with tears and he repeated the following verses:
Ye that are far removed from my desireful sight, Ye that within my heart are sojourners for aye,
Your comeliness is gone and life no more for me Is sweet, nor will the pains of longing pass away.
If God one day decree reunion of our loves, How long a tale of woes my tongue will have to say!
Then he wept and the stoker said to him, “O my son, thou art hardly yet recovered; so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a relapse for thee.” And he applied himself to comfort him and cheer him, whilst Zoulmekan sighed and bemoaned his strangerhood and separation from his sister and his family and repeated the following verses, with tears streaming from his eyes:
Provide thee for the world to come, for needs must thou be gone; Or soon or late, for every one the lot of death is drawn. Thy fortune in this world is but delusion and regret; Thy life in it but vanity and empty chaff and awn. The world, indeed, is but as ’twere a traveller’s halting-place, Who makes his camels kneel at eve and fares on with the dawn.
And he continued to weep and lament, whilst the stoker wept too for the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zoulmekan till the morning. When the sun rose, he said to him, “Meseems thou yearnest for thy native land?” “Even so,” replied Zoulmekan, “and I may not tarry here; so I will commend thee to God’s care and set out with these people and journey with them, little by little, till I come to my country.” “And I with thee,” said the stoker; “for I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee service, and I mean to complete it by tending thee on the way.” At this, Zoulmekan rejoiced and said, “May God abundantly requite thee for me!” Then the stoker went out and selling the camel, bought another ass, which he brought to Zoulmekan, saying, “This is for thee to ride by the way; and when thou art weary of riding, thou canst dismount and walk.” “May God bless thee and help me to requite thee!” said Zoulmekan. “Indeed, thou hast dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother.” Then the stoker provided himself with victual for the journey, and they waited till it was dark night, when they laid their provisions and baggage on the ass and set out on their journey.
To return to Nuzhet ez Zeman, when she left her brother in the khan and went out to seek service with some one, that she might earn wherewith to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was occupied with concern for her brother and with thoughts of her family and her native land. And she implored God the Most High to do away these afflictions from them and repeated the following verses:
The shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain, And longing rouses within me the old desireful pain. The anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast, And love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain. Passion hath made me restless and longing consumes my soul And tears discover the secret that else concealed had lain. I know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe, Nor can my weak endeavour reknit love’s severed skein. The fire of my heart with yearnings and longing grief is fed And for its heat, the lover to live in hell is fain. O thou that thinkest to blame me for what betides me, enough; God knows I suffer with patience whate’er He doth ordain. I swear I shall ne’er find solace nor be consoled for love, The oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are ne’er in vain!
Bear tidings of me, I prithee, O night, to the bards of love And that in thee I sleep not be witness yet again!
She walked on, weeping and turning right and left, as she went, till there espied her an old man who had come into the town from the desert with other five Bedouins. He took note of her and seeing that she was charming, but had nothing on her head but a piece of camel-cloth, marvelled at her beauty and said in himself, “This girl is pretty enough to dazzle the wit, but it is clear she is in poor case, and whether she be of the people of the city or a stranger, I must have her.” So he followed her, little by little, till presently he came in front of her and stopping the way before her in a narrow lane, called out to her, saying, “Harkye, daughterling, art thou a freewoman or a slave?” When she heard this, she said to him, “By thy life, do not add to my troubles! “Quoth he, “God blessed me with six daughters, but five of them died and only one is left me, the youngest of them all; and I came to ask thee if thou wert of the people of this city or a stranger, that I might take thee and carry thee to her, to bear her company and divert her from mourning for her sisters, If thou hast no parents, I will use thee as one of them, and thou and she shall be as my two children.” When she heard what he said, she bowed her head for bashfulness and said to herself, “Surely I may trust myself to this old man.” Then she said to him, “O uncle, I am a girl of the Arabs (of Irak) and a stranger, and I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy daughter on one condition; that is, that I may spend the day only with her and go to my brother at night. I am a stranger and was high in honour among my people, yet am I become cast down and abject. I came with my brother from the land of Hejaz and I fear lest he know not where I am.” When the Bedouin heard this, he said to himself, “By Allah, I have gotten what I sought!” Then he turned to her and said, “There shall none be dearer to me than thou; I only wish thee to bear my daughter company by day, and thou shalt go to thy brother at nightfall. Or, if thou wilt, bring him to dwell with us.” And he ceased not to give her fair words and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve him. Then he went on before her and she followed him, whilst he winked to his men to go on in advance and harness the camels and load them with food and water, ready for setting out as soon as he should come up. Now this Bedouin was a base-born wretch, a highway-robber and a brigand, a traitor to his friend and a past master in craft and roguery. He had no daughter and no son, and was but a wayfarer in Jerusalem, when, by the decree of God, he fell in with this unhappy girl. He held her in converse till they came without the city, where he joined his companions and found they had made ready the camels. So he mounted a camel, taking Nuzhet ez Zeman up behind him, and they rode on all night, making for the mountains, for fear any should see them. By this, she knew that the Bedouin’s proposal was a snare and that he had tricked her; and she gave not over weeping and crying out the whole night long. A little before the dawn, they halted and the Bedouin came up to Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, “O wretch, what is this weeping! By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I will beat thee to death, city faggot that thou art!” When she heard this, she abhorred life and longed for death; so she turned to him and said, “O accursed old man, O greybeard of hell, did I trust in thee and hast thou played me false, and now thou wouldst torture me?” When he heard her words, he cried out, “O insolent wretch, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?” And he came up to her and beat her with a whip, saying, “An thou hold not thy peace, I will kill thee.” So she was silent awhile, but she called to mind her brother and her former happy estate and wept in secret. Next day, she turned to the Bedouin and said to him, “How couldst thou deal thus perfidiously with me and lure me into these desert mountains, and what wilt thou do with me?” When he heard her words, he hardened his heart and said to her, “O pestilent baggage, wilt thou bandy words with me?” So saying, he took the whip and brought it down on her back, till she well-nigh fainted. Then she bowed down and kissed his feet; and he left beating her and began to revile her, saying, “By my bonnet, if I see or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and thrust it up thy kaze, city strumpet that thou art!” So she was silent and made him no reply, for the beating irked her; but sat down, with her arms round her knees and bowing her head, fell a-musing on her case. Then she bethought her of her former ease and affluence and her present abasement, and called to mind her brother and his sickness and forlorn condition and how they were both strangers in a foreign land; whereat the tears coursed down her cheeks and she wept silently and repeated the following verses:
The tides of fate ‘twixt good and ill shift ever to and fro, And no estate of life for men endureth evermo’. All things that to the world belong have each their destined end And to all men a term is set, which none may overgo. How long must I oppression bear and peril and distress! Ah, how I loathe this life of mine, that nought but these can show! May God not prosper them, these days, wherein I am oppressed of Fate, these cruel days that add abjection to my woe! My purposes are brought to nought, my loves are reft in twain By exile’s rigour, and my hopes are one and all laid low. O ye, who pass the dwelling by, wherein my dear ones are, Bear them the news of me and say, my tears for ever flow.
When she had finished, the Bedouin came up to her and taking compassion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears. Then he gave her a cake of barley-bread and said to her, “I do not love to be answered, when I am angry: so henceforth give me no more of these insolent words, and I will sell thee to an honest fellow like myself, who will use thee well, even as I have done.” “It is well,” answered she; and when the night was long upon her and hunger gnawed her, she ate a little of the barley-cake. In the middle of the night, the Bedouin gave the signal for departure; so they loaded the camels and he mounted one of them, taking Nuzhet ez Zeman up behind him. Then they set out and journeyed, without stopping, for three days, till they reached the city of Damascus, where they alighted at the Sultan’s khan, hard by the Viceroy’s Gate. Now she had lost her colour and her charms were changed by grief and the fatigue of the journey, and she ceased not to weep. So the Bedouin came up to her and said, “Hark ye, city wench! By my bonnet, an thou leave not this weeping, I will sell thee to a Jew!” Then he took her by the hand and carried her to a chamber, where he left her and went to the bazaar. Here he went round to the merchants who dealt in slave-girls and began to parley with them, saying, “I have with me a slave-girl, whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my people at Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he was cured. The separation from him was grievous to her, and since then, she does nothing but weep. Now I purpose to sell her, and I would fain have whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her and say to her, ‘Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem, ill;’ and I will be easy with him about her price.” Quoth one of the merchants, “How old is she?” “She is a virgin, just come to the age of puberty,” replied the Bedouin, “and is endowed with sense and breeding and wit and beauty and grace. But from the day I sent her brother to Jerusalem, she has done nothing but grieve for him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value lessened.” When the merchant heard this, he said, “O chief of the Arabs, I will go with thee and buy this girl of thee, if she be as thou sayest for wit and beauty and accomplishments; but it must be upon conditions, which if thou accept, I will pay thee her price, and if not, I will return her to thee.” “If thou wilt,” said the Bedouin, “take her up to Prince Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorassan, and I will agree to whatever conditions thou mayst impose on me; for when he sees her, she will surely please him, and he will pay thee her price and a good profit to boot for thyself.” “It happens,” rejoined the merchant, “that I have just now occasion to go to him, that I may get him to sign me patent, exempting me from customs-dues, and I desire of him also a letter of recommendation to his father King Omar. So, if he take the girl, I will pay thee down her price at once.” “I agree to this,” answered the Bedouin. So they returned together to the khan, where the Bedouin stood at the door of the girl’s chamber and called out, saying, “Ho, Najiyeh!” which was the name he had given her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, “There she sits. Do thou go up to her and look at her and speak kindly to her, as I enjoined thee.” So he went up to her courteously and saw that she was wonder-lovely and graceful especially as she was acquainted with the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Bedouin, “Verily she is even as thou saidst, and I shall get of the Sultan what I will for her.” Then he said to her, “Peace be on thee, O daughterling! How dost thou?” She turned to him and replied, “This was written in the book of Destiny.” Then she looked at him and seeing him to be a man of reverend appearance, with a handsome face, said to herself, “I believe this man comes to buy me. If I hold aloof from him, I shall abide with this tyrant, and he will beat me to death. In any case, this man is comely of face and makes me hope for better treatment from him than from this brute of a Bedouin. Mayhap he only comes to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair answer.” All this while, she had kept her eyes fixed on the ground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice, “And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and the mercy of God and His blessing! This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom God bless and preserve! As for thine enquiry how I do, if thou wouldst know my condition, it is such as thou wouldst not wish but to thine enemies.” And she was silent. When the merchant heard what she said, he was beside himself for delight in her and turning to the Bedouin, said to him, “What is her price, for indeed she is illustrious!” At this the Bedouin was angry and said, “Thou wilt turn me the girl’s head with this talk! Why dost thou say that she is illustrious,[FN#25] for all she is of the scum of slave-girls and of the refuse of the people? I will not sell her to thee.” When the merchant heard this, he knew he was dull-witted and said to him, “Calm thyself, for I will buy her of thee, notwithstanding the defects thou mentionest.” “And how much wilt thou give me for her?” asked the Bedouin “None should name the child but its father,” replied the merchant. “Name thy price for her.” “Not so,” rejoined the Bedouin; “do thou say what thou wilt give.” Quoth the merchant in himself, “This Bedouin is an addle-pated churl. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she has mastered my heart with her sweet speech and her beauty: and if she can read and write, it will be the finishing touch to her good fortune and that of her purchaser. But this Bedouin does not know her value.” Then he turned to the latter and said to him, “O elder of the Arabs, I will give thee two hundred dinars for her, in cash, clear of the tax and the Sultan’s dues.” When the Bedouin heard this, he flew into a violent passion and cried out at the merchant, saying, “Begone about thy business! By Allah, wert thou to offer me two hundred dinars for the piece of camel-cloth on her head, I would not sell it to thee! I will not sell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and grind corn.” And he cried out to her, saying, “Come, thou stinkard, I will not sell thee.” Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, “I thought thee a man of judgment; but, by my bonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what will not please thee!” “Verily,” said the merchant to himself, “this Bedouin is mad and knows not the girl’s value, and I will say no more to him about her price for the present; for by Allah, were he a man of sense, he would not say, ‘By my bonnet!’ By Allah, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroes and I will give him what he will, though it be all I have.” Then he said to him, “O elder of the Arabs, calm thyself and take patience and tell me what clothes she has with thee.” “Clothes!” cried the Bedouin; “what should the baggage want with clothes? The camel-cloth in which she is wrapped is ample for her.” “With thy leave,” said the merchant, “I will lift her veil and examine her as folk examine girls whom they think of buying.” “Up and do what thou wilt,” replied the other, “and God keep thy youth! Examine her, inside and out, and if thou wilt, take off her clothes and look at her naked.” “God forbid!” said the merchant; “I will but look at her face.” Then he went up to her, confounded at her beauty and grace, and seating himself by her side, said to her, “O my mistress, what is thy name?” “Dost thou ask what is my name now,” said she, “or what it was formerly?” “Hast thou then two names?” asked the merchant. “Yes,” replied she, “my whilom name was Nuzhet ez Zeman;[FN#26] but my name at this present is Ghusset ez Zeman.”[FN#27] When the merchant heard this, his eyes filled with tears, and he said to her, “Hast thou not a sick brother?” “Indeed, my lord, I have,” answered she; “but fortune hath parted us, and he lies sick in Jerusalem.” The merchant’s heart was confounded at the sweetness of her speech, and he said to himself, “Verily, the Bedouin spoke the truth of her.” Then she called to mind her brother and how he lay sick in a strange land, whilst she was parted from him and knew not what was become of him; and she thought of all that had befallen her with the Bedouin and of her severance from her father and mother and native land; and the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated the following verses:
May God keep watch o’er thee, belov’d, where’er thou art, Thou that, though far away, yet dwellest in my heart! Where’er thy footsteps lead, may He be ever near, To guard thee from time’s shifts and evil fortune’s dart! Thou’rt absent, and my eyes long ever for thy sight, And at thy thought the tears for aye unbidden start. Would that I knew alas! what country holds thee now, In what abode thou dwell’st, unfriended and apart! If thou, in the green o the rose, still drink o’ the water of life, My drink is nought but tears, since that thou didst depart.
If sleep e’er visit thee, live coals of my unrest, Strewn betwixt couch and side, for aye my slumbers thwart All but thy loss to me were but a little thing, But that and that alone is sore to me, sweetheart.
When the merchant heard her verses, he wept and put out his hand to wipe away her tears; but she let down her veil, saying, “God forbid, O my master!” The Bedouin, who was sitting at a little distance, watching them, saw her cover her face and concluded that she would have hindered him from handling her: so he rose and running to her, dealt her such a blow on the shoulders with a camel’s halter he had in his hand, that she fell to the ground on her face. Her eyebrow smote against a stone, which cut it open, and the blood streamed down her face; whereupon she gave a loud scream and fainted away. The merchant was moved to tears for her and said in himself, “I must and will buy this damsel, though I pay down her weight in gold, and deliver her from this tyrant.” And he began to reproach the Bedouin, whilst Nuzhet ez Zeman lay insensible. When she came to herself, she wiped away her tears and bound up her head: then, raising her eyes to heaven, she sought her Lord with a sorrowful heart and repeated the following verses:
Have ruth on one who once was rich and great, Whom villainy hath brought to low estate.
She weeps with never-ceasing tears and says, “There’s no recourse against the laws of Fate.”
Then she turned to the merchant and said to him, in a low voice, “By Allah, do not leave me with this tyrant, who knows not God the Most High! If I pass this night with him, I shall kill myself with my own hand: save me from him, and God will save thee from hell-fire.” So the merchant said to the Bedouin, “O chief of the Arabs, this girl is none of thine affair; so do thou sell her to me for what thou wilt.” “Take her,” said the Bedouin, “and pay me down her price, or I will carry her back to the camp and set her to feed the camels and gather their droppings.”[FN#28] Quoth the merchant, “I will give thee fifty thousand dinars for her.” “God will open,”[FN#29] replied the Bedouin. “Seventy thousand,” said the merchant. “God will open,” repeated the other; “she hath cost me more than that, for she hath eaten barley-bread with me to the value of ninety thousand dinars.” Quoth the merchant, “Thou and all thy people and thy whole tribe in all your lives have not eaten a thousand dinars’ worth of barley: but I will make thee one offer, which if thou accept not, I will set the Viceroy of Damascus on thee, and he will take her from thee by force.” “Say on,” rejoined the Bedouin. “A hundred thousand,” said the merchant. “I will sell her to thee at that price,” answered the Bedouin; “I shall be able to buy salt with that.” The merchant laughed and going to his house, returned with the money and gave it to the Bedouin, who took it and made off, saying, “I must go to Jerusalem: it may be I shall happen on her brother, and I will bring him here and sell him.” So he mounted and journeyed to Jerusalem, where he went to the khan and enquired for Zoulmekan, but could not find him.
Meanwhile, the merchant threw his gaberdine over Nuzhet ez Zeman and carried her to his house, where he dressed her in the richest clothes he could buy. Then he carried her to the bazaar, where he bought her what jewellery she chose and put it in a bag of satin, which he laid before her, saying, “This is all for thee, and I ask nothing of thee in return but that, when thou comest to the Viceroy of Damascus, thou tell him what I gave for thee and that it was little compared with thy value: and if he buy thee, tell him how I have dealt with thee and ask of him for me a royal patent, with a recommendation to his father King Omar Ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad, to the intent that he may forbid the taking toll on my stuffs or other goods in which I traffic.” When she heard his words, she wept and sobbed, and the merchant said to her, “O my mistress, I note that, every time I mention Baghdad, thine eyes fill with tears: is there any one there whom thou lovest? If it be a merchant or the like, tell me; for I know all the merchants and so forth there; and an thou wouldst send him a message, I will carry it for thee.” “By Allah,” replied she, “I have no acquaintance among merchants and the like! I know none there but King Omar ben Ennuman.” When the merchant heard this, he laughed and was greatly rejoiced and said in himself, “By Allah, I have gotten my desire!” Then he said to her, “Hast thou then been shown to him?” “No,” answered she; “but I was brought up with his daughter and he holds me dear and I have much credit with him; so if thou wouldst have him grant thee a patent of exemption, give me ink-horn and paper, and I will write thee a letter, which, when thou reachest Baghdad, do thou deliver into the King’s own hand and say to him, ‘Thy handmaid Nuzhet ez Zeman salutes thee and would have thee to know that the changing chances of the nights and days have smitten her, so that she has been sold from place to place and is now with the Viceroy of Damascus.'” The merchant wondered at her eloquence and his affection for her increased and he said to her, “I cannot think but that men have abused thine understanding and sold thee for money. Tell me, dost thou know the Koran?” “I do,” answered she; “and I am also acquainted with philosophy and medicine and the Prolegomena and the commentaries of Galen the physician on the Canons of Hippocrates, and I have commented him, as well as the Simples of Ibn Beltar, and have studied the works of Avicenna, according to the canon of Mecca, as well as other treatises. I can solve enigmas and establish parallels[FN#30] and discourse upon geometry and am skilled in anatomy. I have read the books of the Shafiyi[FN#31] sect and the Traditions of the Prophet, I am well read in grammar and can argue with the learned and discourse of all manner of sciences. Moreover I am skilled in logic and rhetoric and mathematics and the making of talismans and calendars and the Cabala, and I understand all these branches of knowledge thoroughly. But bring me ink-horn and paper, and I will write thee a letter that will profit thee at Baghdad and enable thee to dispense with passports.” When the merchant heard this, he cried out, “Excellent! Excellent! Happy he in whose palace thou shalt be!” Then he brought her ink-horn and paper and a pen of brass and kissed the earth before her, to do her honour. She took the pen and wrote the following verses:
“What ails me that sleep hath forsaken my eyes and gone astray? Have you then taught them to waken, after our parting day! How comes it your memory maketh the fire in my heart to rage? Is’t thus with each lover remembers a dear one far away? How sweet was the cloud of the summer, that watered our days of yore! ‘Tis flitted, before of its pleasance my longing I could stay.
I sue to the wind and beg it to favour the slave of love, The wind that unto the lover doth news of you convey. A lover to you complaineth, whose every helper fails. Indeed, in parting are sorrows would rend the rock in sway.
“These words are from her whom melancholy destroys and whom watching hath wasted; in her darkness there are no lights found, and she knows not night from day. She tosses from side to side on the couch of separation and her eyes are blackened with the pencils of sleeplessness; she watches the stars and strains her sight into the darkness: verily, sadness and emaciation have consumed her and the setting forth of her case would be long. No helper hath she but tears and she reciteth the following verses:
“No turtle warbles on the branch, before the break of morn, But stirs in me a killing grief, a sadness all forlorn. No lover, longing for his loves, complaineth of desire, But with a doubled stress of woe my heart is overborne. Of passion I complain to one who hath no ruth on me. How soul and body by desire are, one from other, torn!”
Then her eyes brimmed over with tears, and she wrote these verses also:
“Love-longing, the day of our parting, my body with mourning smote, And severance from my eyelids hath made sleep far remote.
I am so wasted for yearning and worn for sickness and woe, That, were it not for my speaking, thou’dst scarce my presence note.”
Then she wept and wrote at the foot of the scroll, “This is from her who is far from her people and her native land, the sorrowful-hearted Nuzhet ez Zeman.” She folded the letter and gave it to the merchant, who took it and reading what was written in it, rejoiced and exclaimed, “Glory to Him who fashioned thee!” Then he redoubled in kindness and attention to her all that day; and at nightfall, he sallied out to the market and bought food, wherewith he fed her; after which he carried her to the bath and said to the tire-woman, “As soon as thou hast made an end of washing her head, clothe her and send and let me know.’ Meanwhile he fetched food and fruit and wax candles and set them on the dais in the outer room of the bath; and when the tire-woman had done washing her, she sent to tell the merchant, and Nuzhet ez Zeman went out to the outer room, where she found the tray spread with food and fruit. So she ate, and the tire-woman with her, and gave what was left to the people and keeper of the bath. Then she slept till the morning, and the merchant lay the night in a place apart. When he awoke, he came to her and waking her, presented her with a shift of fine silk, a kerchief worth a thousand dinars, a suit of Turkish brocade and boots embroidered with red gold and set with pearls and jewels. Moreover, he hung in each of her ears a circlet of gold, with a fine pearl therein, worth a thousand dinars, and threw round her neck a collar of gold, with bosses of garnet and a chain of amber beads, that hung down between her breasts to her middle. Now this chain was garnished with ten balls and nine crescents and each crescent had in its midst a beazel of ruby and each ball a beazel of balass ruby. The worth of the chain was three thousand dinars and each of the balls was worth twenty thousand dirhems, so that her dress in all was worth a great sum of money. When she had put these on, the merchant bade her make her toilet, and she adorned herself to the utmost advantage. Then he bade her follow him and walked on before her through the streets, whilst the people wondered at her beauty and exclaimed, “Blessed be God, the most excellent Creator! O fortunate man to whom she shall belong!” till they reached the Sultan’s palace; when he sought an audience of Sherkan and kissing the earth before him, said, “O august King, I have brought thee a rare gift, unmatched in this time and richly covered with beauty and good qualities.” “Let me see it,” said Sherkan. So the merchant went out and returning with Nuzhet ez Zeman, made her stand before Sherkan. When the latter beheld her, blood drew to blood, though he had never seen her, having only heard that he had a sister called Nuzhet ez Zeman and a brother called Zoulmekan and not having made acquaintance with them, in his jealousy of them, because of the succession. Then said the merchant, “O King, not only is she without peer in her time for perfection of beauty and grace, but she is versed to boot in all learning, sacred and profane, besides the art of government and the abstract sciences.” Quoth Sherkan, “Take her price, according to what thou gavest for her, and go thy ways.” “I hear and obey,” replied the merchant; “but first I would have thee write me a patent, exempting me for ever from paying tithe on my merchandise.” “I will do this,” said Sherkan; “but first tell me what you paid for her.” Quoth the merchant, “I bought her for a hundred thousand dinars, and her clothes cost me as much more.” When the Sultan heard this, he said, “I will give thee more than this for her,” and calling his treasurer, said to him, “Give this merchant three hundred and twenty thousand dinars; so will he have a hundred and twenty thousand dinars profit.” Then he summoned the four Cadis and paid him the money in their presence; after which he said to them, “I call you to witness that I free this my slave-girl and purpose to marry her.” So the Cadis drew up the act of enfranchisement, and the Sultan scattered much gold on the heads of those present, which was picked up by the pages and eunuchs. Then they drew up the contract of marriage between Sherkan and Nuzhet ez Zeman, after which he bade write the merchant a perpetual patent, exempting him from tax and tithe upon his merchandise and forbidding all and several to do him let or hindrance in all his government, and bestowed on him a splendid dress of honour. Then all who were present retired, and there remained but the Cadis and the merchant; whereupon quoth Sherkan to the former, “I wish you to hear such discourse from this damsel as may prove her knowledge and accomplishment in all that this merchant avouches of her, that we may be certified of the truth of his pretensions.” “Good,” answered they; and he commanded the curtains to be drawn before Nuzhet ez Zeman and her attendants, who began to wish her joy and kiss her hands and feet, for that she was become the Viceroy’s wife. Then they came round her and easing her of the weight of her clothes and ornaments, began to look upon her beauty and grace. Presently the wives of the Amirs and Viziers heard that King Sherkan had bought a damsel unmatched for beauty and accomplishments and versed in all branches of knowledge, at the price of three hundred and twenty thousand dinars, and that he had set her free and married her and summoned the four Cadis to examine her. So they asked leave of their husbands and repaired to the palace. When they came in to her, she rose and received them with courtesy, welcoming them and promising them all good. Moreover, she smiled in their faces and made them sit down in their proper stations, as if she had been brought up with them, so that their hearts were taken with her and they all wondered at her good sense and fine manners, as well as at her beauty and grace, and said to each other, “This damsel is none other than a queen, the daughter of a king.” Then they sat down, magnifying her, and said to her, “O our lady, our city is illumined by thy presence, and our country and kingdom are honoured by thee. The kingdom indeed is thine and the palace is thy palace, and we all are thy handmaids; so do not thou shut us out from thy favours and the sight of thy beauty.” And she thanked them for this. All this while the curtains were drawn between Nuzhet ez Zeman and the women with her, on the one side, and King Sherkan and the Cadis and merchant seated by him, on the other. Presently, Sherkan called to her and said, “O queen, the glory of thine age, this merchant describes thee as being learned and accomplished and asserts that thou art skilled in all branches of knowledge, even to astrology: so let us hear something of all this and give us a taste of thy quality.”
“O King,” replied she, “I hear and obey. The first subject of which I will treat is the art of government and the duties of kings and what behoves governors of lawful commandments and what is incumbent on them in respect of pleasing manners. Know then, O King, that all men’s works tend either to religion or to worldly life, for none attains to religion save through this world, because it is indeed the road to the next world. Now the world is ordered by the doings of its people, and the doings of men are divided into four categories, government (or the exercise of authority), commerce, husbandry (or agriculture) and craftsmanship. To government are requisite perfect (knowledge of the science of) administration and just judgment; for government is the centre (or pivot) of the edifice of the world, which is the road to the future life since that God the Most High hath made the world to be to His servants even as victual to the traveller for the attainment of the goal: and it is needful that each man receive of it such measure as shall bring him to God, and that he follow not in this his own mind and desire. If the folk would take of the goods of the world with moderation and equity, there would be an end of contentions; but they take thereof with violence and iniquity and persist in following their own inclinations; and their licentiousness and evil behaviour in this give birth to strife and contention. So they have need of the Sultan, that he may do justice between them and order their affairs prudently, and if he restrain not the folk from one another, the strong will get the mastery over the weak. Ardeshir says that religion and the kingship are twin; religion is a treasure and the king its keeper; and the divine ordinances and men’s own judgment indicate that it behoves the folk to adopt a ruler to hold the oppressor back from the oppressed and do the weak justice against the strong and to restrain the violence of the proud and the unjust. For know, O King, that according to the measure of the ruler’s good morals, even so will be the time; as says the apostle of God (on whom be peace and salvation), ‘There are two classes, who if they be virtuous, the people will be virtuous, and if they be depraved, the people also will be depraved: even princes and men of learning.’ And it is said by a certain sage, ‘There are three kinds of kings, the king of the Faith, the king who watches over and protects those things that are entitled to respect and honour, and the king of his own inclinations. The king of the Faith constrains his subjects to follow the laws of their faith, and it behoves that he be the most pious of them all, for it is by him that they take pattern in the things of the Faith; and the folk shall do obedience to him in what he commands in accordance with the Divine ordinances; but he shall hold the discontented in the same esteem as the contented, because of submission to the Divine decrees. As for the king of the second order, he upholds the things of the Faith and of the world and compels the folk to follow the Law of God and to observe the precepts of humanity; and it behoves him to conjoin the sword and the pen; for whoso goeth astray from what the pen hath written, his feet slip, and the king shall rectify his error with the edge of the sword and pour forth his justice upon all men. As for the third kind of king, he hath no religion but the following his own lusts and fears not the wrath of his Lord, who set him on the throne; so his kingdom inclines to ruin, and the end of his arrogance is in the House of Perdition.’ And another sage says, ‘The king has need of many people, but the folk have need of but one king; wherefore it behoves that he be well acquainted with their natures, to the end that he may reduce their difference to concord, that he may encompass them one and all with his justice and overwhelm them with his bounties.’ And know, O King, that Ardeshir, styled Jemr Shedid, third of the Kings of Persia, conquered the whole world and divided it into four parts and let make for himself four seal-rings, one for each division of his realm. The first seal was that of the sea and the police and of prohibition, and on it was written, ‘Alternatives.’ The second was the seal of revenue and of the receipt of monies, and on it was written, ‘Culture.’ The third was the seal of the commissariat, and on it was written, ‘Plenty.’ The fourth was the seal of (the Court of Enquiry into) abuses, and on it was written, ‘Justice.’ And these remained in use in Persia until the revelation of Islam. King Chosroes also, wrote to his son, who was with the army, ‘Be not over-lavish to thy troops, or they will come to have no need of thee; neither be niggardly with them, or they will murmur against thee. Do thy giving soberly and confer thy favours advisedly; be liberal to them in time of affluence and stint them not in time of stress.’ It is said that an Arab of the desert came once to the Khalif Mensour[FN#32] and said to him, ‘Starve thy dog and he will follow thee.’ When the Khalif heard his words, he was enraged, but Aboulabbas et Tousi said to him, ‘I fear that, if some other than thou should show him a cake of bread, the dog would follow him and leave thee.’ Thereupon the Khalif’s wrath subsided and he knew that the Bedouin had meant no offence and ordered him a present. And know, O King, that Abdulmelik ben Merwan wrote to his brother Abdulaziz, when he sent him to Egypt, as follows: ‘Pay heed to thy secretaries and thy chamberlains, for the first will acquaint thee with necessary matters and the second with matters of etiquette and ceremonial observance, whilst the tribute that goes out from thee will make thy troops known to thee.’ Omar ben el Khettab[FN#33] (whom God accept) was in the habit, when he engaged a servant, of laying four conditions on him, the first that he should not ride the baggage-beasts, the second that he should not wear fine clothes, the third that he should not eat of the spoil and the fourth that he should not delay to pray after the proper time. It is said that there is no wealth better than understanding and no understanding like common sense and prudence and no prudence like the fear of God; that there is no offering like good morals and no measure like good breeding and no profit like earning the Divine favour;[FN#34] that there is no piety like the observance of the limits of the Law and no science like that of meditation, no devotion like the performance of the Divine precepts, no safeguard like modesty, no calculation like humility and no nobility like knowledge. So guard the head and what it contains and the body and what it comprises and remember death and calamity. Says Ali[FN#35], (whose face God honour!), ‘Beware of the wickedness of women and be on thy guard against them. Consult them not in aught, but be not grudging of complaisance to them, lest they be tempted to have recourse to intrigue.’ And also, ‘He who leaves the path of moderation and sobriety, his wits become perplexed.’ And Omar (whom God accept) says, ‘There are three kinds of women, first, the true-believing, God-fearing woman, loving and fruitful, helping her husband against fate, not helping fate against her husband; secondly, she who loves and tenders her children, but no more; and thirdly, the woman who is as a shackle that God puts on the neck of whom He will. Men also are three: the first, who is wise, when he exercises his judgment; the second, wiser than he, who, when there falls on him somewhat of which he knows not the issue, seeks folk of good counsel and acts by their advice; and the third, who is addle-headed, knowing not the right way nor heeding those who would instruct him.’ Justice is indispensable in all things; even slave-girls have need of justice; and highway robbers, who live by violence, bear witness of this, for did they not deal equitably among themselves and observe fairness in their divisions, their order would fall to pieces. For the rest, the chief of noble qualities is generosity and benevolence. How well says the poet:
‘By largesse and mildness the youth chief of his tribe became, And it were easy for thee to follow and do the same.’
And quoth another:
‘In mildness stability lies and clemency wins us respect, And safety in soothfastness is for him who is soothfast and frank;
And he who would get himself praise and renown for his wealth from the folk, In the racecourse of glory must be, for munificence, first in the rank.'”
And Nuzhet ez Zeman discoursed upon the policy and behaviour of kings, till the bystanders said, “Never heard we one reason of the duties of kings like this damsel! Mayhap she will favour us with discourse upon some subject other than this.” When she heard this, she said, “As for the chapter of good breeding,[FN#36] it is wide of scope, for it is a compend of perfections. There came in one day to the Khalif Muawiyeh[FN#37] one of his boon-companions, who spoke of the people of Irak and the goodness of their wit; and the Khalif’s wife Meisoun, mother of Yezid, heard him. So, when he was gone, she said to the Khalif, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, prithee let some of the people of Irak come in to thee and talk with them, that I may hear their discourse.’ So the Khalif said to his attendants, ‘Who is at the door?’ And they answered, ‘The Benou Temim.’ ‘Let them come in,’ said he. So they came in and with them Ahnaf ben Cais.[FN#38] Now Muawiyeh had drawn a curtain between himself and Meisoun, that she might hear what they said without being seen herself; and he said to Ahnaf, ‘O Abou Behr,[FN#39] pray, near and tell me what counsel thou hast for me.’ Quoth Ahnaf, ‘Part thy hair and trim thy moustache and clip thy nails and pluck out the hair of thine armpits and shave thy pubes and be constant in the use of the toothstick, for therein are two-and-seventy virtues, and make the Friday (complete) ablution as an expiation for what is between the two Fridays.’ ‘What is thy counsel to thyself?’ asked Muawiyeh. ‘To plant my feet firmly on the ground,’ replied Ahnaf, ‘to move them with deliberation and keep watch over them with my eyes.’ ‘How,’ asked the Khalif, ‘dost thou carry thyself, when thou goest in to the common folk of thy tribe?’ ‘I lower my eyes modestly,’ replied Ahnaf, ‘and salute them first, abstaining from what does not concern me and being sparing of words.’ ‘And how, when thou goest in to thine equals?’ asked Muawiyeh. ‘I give ear to them, when they speak,’ answered the other, ‘and do not assail them, when they err.’ ‘And how dost thou,’ said the Khalif, ‘when thou goest in to thy chiefs?’ ‘I salute without making any sign,’ answered Ahnaf, ‘and await the response: if they bid me draw near, I do so, and if they bid me stand aloof, I withdraw.’ ‘How dost thou with thy wife?’ asked the Khalif. ‘Excuse me from answering this, O Commander of the Faithful!’ replied he; but Muawiyeh said, ‘I conjure thee to answer.’ Then said Ahnaf, ‘I entreat her kindly and show her pleasant familiarity and am large in expenditure, for women were created of a crooked rib.’ ‘And how,’ asked the Khalif, ‘dost thou when thou hast a mind to lie with her?’ ‘I speak to her to perfume herself,’ answered the other, ‘and kiss her till she is moved to desire; then, if it be as thou knowest, I throw her on her back. If the seed abide in her womb, I say, “O my God, make it blessed and let it not be a castaway, but fashion it into a goodly shape!” Then I rise from her and betake myself to the ablution, first pouring water over my hands and then over my body and returning thanks to God for the delight He hath given me.’ ‘Thou hast answered excellently well,’ said Muawiyeh; ‘and now tell me what thou wouldst have.’ Quoth Ahnaf, ‘I would have thee rule thy subjects in the fear of God and do equal justice amongst them.’ So saying, he withdrew from the Khalif’s presence, and when he had gone, Meisoun said, ‘Were there but this man in Irak, he would suffice to it.’ This (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman) is a small fraction of the chapter of good breeding. Know O King, that Muyekib was intendant of the treasury during the Khalifate of Omar ben Khettab. ‘One day (quoth he) the Khalif’s son came to me and I gave him a dirhem from the treasury. Then I returned to my own house, and presently, as I was sitting, there came to me a messenger, bidding me to the Khalif. So I was afraid and went to him, and when I came into his presence, I saw in his hand the dirhem I had given his son. “Harkye, Muyekib,” said he, “I have found somewhat concerning thy soul.” “What is it, O Commander of the Faithful?” asked I; and he answered, “It is that thou wilt have to render an account of this dirhem to the people of Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation) on the Day of Resurrection.”‘ This same Omar wrote a letter to Abou Mousa el Ashari,[FN#40] to the following purport, ‘When these presents reach thee, give the people what is theirs and send the rest to me.’ And he did so. When Othman succeeded to the Khalifate, he wrote a like letter to Abou Mousa, who did his bidding and sent him the tribute accordingly, and with it came Ziad[FN#41] When the latter laid the tribute before Othman, the Khalif’s son came in and took a dirhem, whereupon Ziad fell a-weeping. ‘Why dost thou weep?’ asked Othman. Quoth Ziad, ‘I once brought Omar ben Khettab the like of this, and his son took a dirhem, whereupon Omar bade snatch it from his hand. Now thy son hath taken of the tribute, yet have I seen none rebuke him nor take the money from him.’ And Othman said, ‘Where wilt thou find the like of Omar?’ Again, Zeid ben Aslam relates of his father that he said, ‘I went out one night with Omar, and we walked on till we espied a blazing fire in the distance. Quoth Omar, “This must be travellers, who are suffering from the cold: let us join them.” So we made for the fire, and when we came to it, we found a woman who had lighted a fire under a cauldron, and by her side were two children, crying. “Peace on you, O folk of the light!” said Omar, for he misliked to say, “folk of the fire;”[FN#42] “what ails you?” Quoth she, “The cold and the night irk us.” “What ails these children that they weep?” asked he. “They are hungry,” replied she. “And what is in this cauldron?” asked Omar. “It is what I quiet them with,” answered she, “and God will question Omar ben Khettab of them, on the Day of Resurrection.” “And what,” rejoined the Khalif, “should Omar know of their case?” “Why then,” said she, “should he undertake the governance of the people’s affairs and yet be unmindful of them?” Then Omar turned to me and said, “Come with me.” So we both set off running till we reached the treasury, where he took out a sack of flour and a pot of fat and said to me, “Put these on my back.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” said I, “I will carry them for thee.” “Wilt thou bear my burden for me on the Day of Resurrection?” replied he. So I put the things on his back, and we set off, running, till we came to the woman, when he threw down the sack. Then he took out some of the flour and put it in the cauldron and saying to the woman, “Leave it to me,” fell to blowing the fire; Now he had a great beard and I saw the smoke issuing from the interstices thereof, till the flour was cooked, when he threw in some of the fat and said to the woman, “Do thou feed the boys whilst I cool the food for them.” So they ate their fill and he left the rest with her. Then he turned to me and said, “O Aslam, I see it was indeed hunger made them weep; and I am glad I did not go away without finding out the reason of the light I saw.”‘ It is said that Omar passed, one day, by a flock of sheep, kept by a slave, and asked the latter to sell him a sheep. ‘They are not mine,’ replied the shepherd. ‘Thou art the man I sought,’ said Omar and buying him of his master, set him free, whereupon the slave exclaimed, ‘O my God, thou hast bestowed on me the lesser emancipation; vouchsafe me now the greater!'[FN#43] They say also, that Omar ben Khettab was wont to give his servants sweet milk and eat coarse fare himself and to clothe them softly and wear himself coarse garments. He gave all men their due and exceeded in his giving to them. He once gave a man four thousand dirhems and added thereto yet a thousand, wherefore it was said to him, ‘Why dost thou not favour thy son as thou favourest this man?’ He answered, ‘This man’s father stood firm in fight on the day of Uhud.'[FN#44] El Hassan relates that Omar once came (back from an expedition) with much money and that Hefseh[FN#45] came to him and said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, be mindful of the due of kinship!’ ‘O Hefseh,’ replied he, ‘God hath indeed enjoined us to satisfy the dues of kinship, but of our own monies, not those of the true believers. Indeed, thou pleasest thy family, but angerest thy father.’ And she went away, dragging her skirts. Says Omar’s son, ‘I implored God one year (after Omar’s death) to show me my father, till at last I saw him wiping the sweat from his brow and said to him, “How is it with thee, O my father?” “But for God’s mercy,” answered he, “thy father had perished.” Then said Nuzhet ez Zeman, “Hear, O august King, the second division of the first chapter of the instances of the followers of the Prophet and other pious men. Says El Hassan of Bassora,[FN#46] ‘Not a soul of the sons of Adam goes forth of the world, without grieving for three things, failure to enjoy what he has amassed, failure to compass what he hoped and failure to provide himself with sufficient provision for that to which he goes.[FN#47]’ It was said to Sufyan,[FN#48] ‘Can a man be devout and yet possess wealth?’ ‘Yes,’ replied he, ‘so he be patient under affliction and return thanks, when God giveth to him.’ When Abdallah ben Sheddad was on his death-bed, he sent for his son Mohammed and admonished him, saying, ‘O my son, I see the messenger of death calling me and so I charge thee to cherish the fear of God, both in public and private. Praise God and be true in thy speech, for the praise of God brings increase of prosperity, and piety in itself is the best of provision,[FN#49] even as says one of the poets:
I see not that bliss lies in filling one’s chest; The God-fearing man can alone be called blest.
For piety aye winneth increase of God; So of all men’s provision ’tis surely the best.
When Omar ben Abdulaziz[FN#50] succeeded to the Khalifate, he went to his own house and laying hands on all that his family and household possessed, put it into the public treasury. So the Ommiades[FN#51] betook themselves for aid to his father’s sister, Fatimeh, daughter of Merwan, and she sent to Omar, saying, ‘I must needs speak with thee.’ So she came to him by night, and when he had made her alight from her beast and sit down, he said to her, ‘O aunt, it is for thee to speak first, since it is at thine instance that we meet; tell me, therefore, what thou wouldst with me.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied she, ‘it is thine to speak first, for thy judgment perceives that which is hidden from the senses.’ Then said the Khalif, ‘Of a verity God sent Mohammed as a mercy to some and a punishment to others; and He chose out for him what was with him and withdrew him to Himself, leaving the people a river, whereof the thirsty of them might drink. After him he made Abou Bekr the Truth-teller Khalif and he left the river in its pristine state, doing what was pleasing to God. Then arose Omar and worked a work and furnished forth a strife, of which none might do the like When Othman came, he diverted a stream from the river, and Muawiyeh in his turn sundered several streams from it. In like manner, Yezid and the sons of Merwan, Abdulmelik and Welid and Suleiman[FN#52], ceased not to take from the river and dry up the main stream, till the commandment devolved upon me, and now I am minded to restore the river to its normal condition.’ When Fatimeh heard this, she said, ‘I came, wishing only to speak and confer with thee, but if this be thy word, I have nothing to say to thee.’ Then she returned to the Ommiades and said to them, ‘See what you have brought on you by allying yourselves with Omar ben Khettab.’ [FN#53] When Omar was on his deathbed, he gathered his children round him, and Meslemeh[FN#54] ben Abdulmelik said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou leave thy children beggars and thou their protector? None can hinder thee from giving them in thy lifetime what will suffice them out of the treasury; and this indeed were better than leaving it to revert to him who shall come after thee.’ Omar gave him a look of wrath and wonder and replied, ‘O Meslemeh, I have defended them all the days of my life, and shall I make them miserable after my death? My sons are like other men, either obedient to God the Most High or disobedient: if the former, God will prosper them, and if the latter, I will not help them in their disobedience. Know, O Meslemeh, that I was present, even as thou, when such an one of the sons of Merwan was buried, and I fell asleep by him and saw him in a dream given over to one of the punishments of God, to whom belong might and majesty. This terrified me and made me tremble, and I vowed to God that, if ever I came to the throne, I would not do as the dead man had done. This vow I have striven to fulfil all the days of my life, and I hope to be received into the mercy of my Lord.’ Quoth Meslemeh, ‘A certain man died and I was present at his funeral. I fell asleep and meseemed I saw him, as in a dream, clad in white clothes and walking in a garden full of running waters. He came up to me and said, “O Meslemeh, it is for the like of this that governors (or men who bear rule) should work.”‘ Many are the instances of this kind, and quoth one of the men of authority, ‘I used to milk the ewes in the Khalifate of Omar ben Abdulaziz, and one day, I met a shepherd, among whose sheep were wolves. I thought them to be dogs, for I had never before seen wolves; so I said to the shepherd, “What dost thou with these dogs?” “They are not dogs, but wolves,” replied he. Quoth I, “Can wolves be with sheep and not hurt them?” “When the head is whole,” replied he, “the body is whole also.”‘ Omar ben Abdulaziz preached once from a mud pulpit, and after praising and glorifying God the Most High, said three words and spoke as follows, ‘O folk, make clean your hearts, that your outward lives may be clean to your brethren, and abstain from the things of the world. Know that from Adam to this present, there is no one man alive among the dead. Dead are Abdulmelik and those who forewent him, and Omar also will die, and those who come after him.’ Quoth Meslemeh (to this same Omar, when he was dying), ‘O Commander of the Faithful, shall we set a pillow behind thee, that thou mayest lean on it a little?’ But Omar answered, ‘I fear lest it be a fault about my neck on the Day of Resurrection.’ Then he gasped for breath and fell back in a swoon; whereupon Fatimeh cried out, saying, ‘Ho, Meryem! Ho, Muzahim! Ho, such an one! Look to this man!’ And she began to pour water on him, weeping, till he revived, and seeing her in tears, said to her, ‘O Fatimeh, why dost thou weep?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied she, ‘I saw thee lying prostrate before us and thought of thy prostration before God the Most High in death and of thy departure from the world and separation from us. This is what made me weep.’ ‘Enough, O Fatimeh,’ answered he; ‘indeed thou exceedest.’ Then he would have risen, but fell down, and Fatimeh strained him to her, saying, ‘Thou art to me as my father and my mother, O Commander of the Faithful! We cannot speak to thee, all of us.'[FN#55] Again (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman), Omar ben Abdulaziz wrote to the people of the festival at Mecca, as follows, ‘I call God to witness, in the Holy Month, in the Holy City and on the day of the Great Pilgrimage, that I am innocent of your oppression and of the wickedness of him that doth you wrong, in that I have neither commanded this nor purposed it, neither hath any report of aught thereof reached me (till now) nor have I had knowledge of it; and I trust therefore that God will pardon it to me. None hath authority from me to do oppression, for I shall assuredly be questioned (at the Last Day) concerning every one who hath been wrongfully entreated. So if any one of my officers swerve from the right and act without law or authority,[FN#56] ye owe him no obedience, till he return to the right way.’ He said also (may God accept of him), ‘I do not wish to be relieved from death, for that it is the supreme thing for which the true believer is rewarded.’ Quoth one of authority, ‘I went one day to the Commander of the Faithful, Omar ben Abdulaziz, who was then Khalif, and saw before him twelve dirhems, which he bade take to the treasury. So I said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, thou impoverishest thy children and reducest them to beggary, leaving nothing for them. Thou wouldst do well to appoint somewhat by will to them and to those who are poor of the people of thy house.” “Draw near to me,” answered he. So I drew near to him and he said, “As for thy saying, ‘Thou beggarest thy children; provide for them and for the poor of thy household,’ it is without reason, for God will replace me to my children and to those who are poor of the people of my house, and He will be their guardian. Verily, they are like other men; he who fears God, God will provide him a happy issue, and he that is addicted to sin, I will not uphold him in his disobedience.” Then he called his sons before him, and they were twelve in number. When he beheld them, his eyes filled with tears and he said to them, “Your father is between two things; either ye will be rich and he will enter the fire, or ye will be poor and he enter Paradise; and your father’s entry into Paradise is liefer to him than that ye should be rich. So go, God be your helper, for to Him I commit your affair.”‘ Quoth Khalid ben Sefwan,[FN#57] ‘Yusuf ben Omar[FN#58] accompanied me to Hisham ben Abdulmelik,[FN#59] and I met him as he came forth with his kinsmen and attendants. He alighted and a tent was pitched for him. When the people had taken their seats, I came up to the side of the carpet (on which the Khalif was reclining) and waiting till my eyes met his, bespoke him thus, “May God fulfil His bounty to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, and direct into the right way the affairs He hath committed to thy charge, and may no harm mingle with thy cheer! O Commander of the Faithful, I have an admonition for thee, which I have gleaned from the history of the kings of time past!” At this, he sat up and said to me, “O son of Sefwan, say what is in thy mind.” “O Commander of the Faithful,” quoth I, “one of the kings before thee went forth, in a time before thy time, to this very country and said to his companions, ‘Saw ye ever any in the like of my state or to whom hath been given even as it hath been given unto me?’ Now there was with him one of those who survive to bear testimony to the Faith and are upholders of the Truth and walkers in its highway, and he said, ‘O King, thou askest of a grave matter. Wilt thou give me leave to answer?’ ‘Yes,’ replied the King, and the other said, ‘Dost thou judge thy present state to be temporary or enduring?’ ‘It is a temporary thing,’ replied the King. ‘Why then,’ asked the man, ‘do I see thee exult in that which thou wilt enjoy but a little while and whereof thou wilt be questioned at length and for the rendering an account whereof thou wilt be as a pledge?’ ‘Whither shall I flee,’ asked the King, ‘and where is that I must seek?’ ‘Abide in thy kingship,’ replied the other, ‘and apply thyself to obey the commandments of God the Most High; or else don thy worn-out clothes and devote thyself to the service of thy Lord, till thine appointed hour come to thee.’ Then he left him, saying, ‘I will come to thee again at daybreak.’ So he knocked at his door at dawn and found that the King had put off his crown and resolved to become an anchorite, for the stress of his exhortation.” When Hisham heard this, he wept till his beard was drenched and putting off his rich apparel, shut himself up in his palace. Then the grandees and courtiers came to me and said, “What is this thou hast done with the Commander of the Faithful? Thou hast marred his cheer and troubled his life!”‘ “But (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman, addressing herself to Sherkan) how many admonitory instances are there not that bear upon this branch of the subject! Indeed, it is beyond my power to report all that pertains to this head in one sitting; but, with length of days, O King of the age, all will be well.”
Then said the Cadis, “O King, of a truth this damsel is the wonder of the time and the unique pearl of the age! Never in all our lives heard we the like.” And they called down blessings on Sherkan and went away. Then said he to his attendants, “Prepare the wedding festivities and make ready food of all kinds.” So they addressed themselves to do his bidding, and he bade the wives of the amirs and viziers and grandees depart not until the time of the wedding banquet and of the unveiling of the bride. Hardly was the time of afternoon-prayer come, when the tables were spread with roast meats and geese and fowls and all that the heart can desire or that can delight the eye; and all the people ate till they were satisfied. Moreover, the King had sent for all the singing-women of Damascus and they were present, together with all the slave-girls of the King and the notables who knew how to sing. When the evening came and it grew dark, they lighted flambeaux, right and left, from the gate of the citadel to that of the palace, and the amirs and viziers and grandees defiled before King Sherkan, whilst the singers and the tire-women took Nuzhet ez Zeman, to dress and adorn her, but found she needed no adorning. Meantime King Sherkan went to the bath and coming out, sat down on his bed of estate, whilst they unveiled the bride before him in seven different dresses; after which they eased her of the weight of her dresses and ornaments and gave such injunctions as are usually given to girls on their wedding-night. Then Sherkan went in to her and took her maidenhead; and she at once conceived by him, whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and commanded the sages to record the date of her conception. On the morrow, he went forth and seated himself on his throne, and the grandees came in to him and gave him joy. Then he called his private secretary and bade him write to his father, King Omar ben Ennuman, a letter to the following effect: “Know that I have bought me a damsel, who excels in learning and accomplishment and is mistress of all kinds of knowledge. I have set her free and married her and she has conceived by me. And needs must I send her to Baghdad to visit my brother Zoulmekan and my sister Nuzhet ez Zeman.” And he went on to praise her wit and salute his brother and sister, together with the Vizier Dendan and all the amirs. Then he sealed the letter and despatched it to his father by a courier, who was absent a whole month, after which time he returned with the old King’s answer. Sherkan took it and read as follows, after the usual preamble, “In the name of God,” etc., “This is from the afflicted and distraught, him who hath lost his children and is (as it were) an exile from his native land, King Omar ben Ennuman, to his son Sherkan. Know that, since thy departure from me, the place is become contracted upon me, so that I can no longer have patience nor keep my secret: and the reason of this is as follows. It chanced that Zoulmekan sought my leave to go on the pilgrimage, but I, fearing for him the shifts of fortune, forbade him therefrom until the next year or the year after. Soon after this, I went out to hunt and was absent a whole month. When I returned, I found that thy brother and sister had taken somewhat of money and set out by stealth with the caravan of pilgrims. When I knew this, the wide world became strait on me, O my son; but I awaited the return of the caravan, hoping that they would return with it. Accordingly, when the caravan came back, I questioned the pilgrims of them, but they could give me no news of them; so I put on mourning apparel for them, being heavy at heart and sleepless and drowned in the tears of my eyes.” Then followed these verses:
Their image is never absent a breathing-while from my breast, I have made it within my bosom the place of the honoured guest,
But that I look for their coming, I would not live for an hour, And but that I see them in dreams, I ne’er should lie down to rest.
The letter went on (after the usual salutations to Sherkan and those of his court), “Do not thou therefore neglect to seek news of them, for indeed this is a dishonour to us.” When Sherkan read the letter, he mourned for his father, but rejoiced in the loss of his brother and sister. Now Nuzhet ez Zeman knew not that he was her brother nor he that she was his sister, although he paid her frequent visits, both by day and by night, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. God made the delivery easy to her and she gave birth to a daughter, whereupon she sent for Sherkan and said to him, “This is thy daughter: name her as thou wilt.” Quoth he, “Folk use to name their children on the seventh day.” Then he bent down to kiss the child and saw, hung about her neck, a jewel, which he knew at once for one of those that the princess Abrizeh had brought from the land of the Greeks. At this sight, his senses fled, his eyes rolled and wrath seized on him, and he looked at Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, “O damsel, whence hadst thou this jewel?” When she heard this, she replied, “I am thy lady and the lady of all in thy palace. Art thou not ashamed to say to me, ‘O damsel’?[FN#60] Indeed, I am a queen, the daughter of a king; and now concealment shall cease and the truth be made known. I am Nuzhet ez Zeman, daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman.” When Sherkan heard this, he was seized with trembling and bowed his head towards the earth, whilst his heart throbbed and his colour paled, for he knew that she was his sister by the same father. Then he lost his senses; and when he revived, he abode in amazement, but did not discover himself to her and said to her, “O my lady, art thou indeed the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman?” “Yes,” replied she; and he said, “Tell me how thou camest to leave thy father and be sold for a slave.” So she told him all that had befallen her, from first to last, how she had left her brother sick in Jerusalem and how the Bedouin had lured her away and sold her to the merchant. When Sherkan heard this all was certified that she was indeed his sister, he said to himself, “How can I have my sister to wife? By Allah, I must marry her to one of my chamberlains; and if the thing get wind, I will avouch that I divorced her before consummation and married her to my chief chamberlain.” Then he raised his head and said, “O Nuzhet ez Zeman, thou art my very sister; for I am Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, and may God forgive us the sin into which we have fallen!” She looked at him and seeing that he spoke the truth, became as one bereft of reason and wept and buffeted her face, exclaiming, “There is no power and no virtue but in God! Verily we have fallen into grievous sin! What shall I do and what answer shall I make my father and my mother, when they say to me, ‘Whence hadst thou thy daughter’?” Quoth Sherkan, “I purpose to marry thee to my chief chamberlain and let thee bring up my daughter in his house, that none may know thee to be my sister. This that hath befallen us was ordained of God for a purpose of His own, and there is no way to cover ourselves but by thy marriage with the chamberlain, ere any know.” Then he fell to comforting her and kissing her head, and she said to him, “What wilt thou call the child?” “Call her Kuzia Fekan,”[FN#61] replied he. Then he gave her in marriage to the chief chamberlain, and they reared the child in his house, on the laps of the slave- girls, till, one day, there came to King Sherkan a courier from his father, with a letter to the following purport, “In the name of God, etc. Know, O puissant King, that I am sore afflicted for the loss of my children: sleep fails me and wakefulness is ever present with me. I send thee this letter that thou mayst make ready the tribute of Syria and send it to us, together with the damsel whom thou hast bought and taken to wife; for I long to see her and hear her discourse; because there has come to us from the land of the Greeks a devout old woman, with five damsels, high-bosomed maids, endowed with knowledge and accomplishments and all fashions of learning that befit mortals; and indeed the tongue fails to describe this old woman and her companions. As soon as I saw the damsels, I loved them and wished to have them in my palace and at my commandment, for none of the kings possesses the like of them; so I asked the old woman their price, and she replied, ‘I will not sell them but for the tribute of Damascus.’ And by Allah, this is but little for them, for each one of them is worth the whole price. So I agreed to this and took them into my palace, and they remain in my possession. Wherefore do thou expedite the tribute to us, that the old woman may return to her own country; and send us the damsel, that she may strive with them before the doctors; and if she overcome them, I will send her back to thee with the year’s revenue of Baghdad.” When Sherkan read this letter, he went in to his brother-in-law and said to him, “Call the damsel to whom I married thee.” So she came, and he showed her the letter and said to her, “O my sister, what answer wouldst thou have me make to this letter?” “It is for thee to judge,” replied she. Then she recalled her people and her native land and yearned after them; so she said to him, “Send me and my husband the Chamberlain to Baghdad, that I may tell my father how the Bedouin seized me and sold me to the merchant, and how thou boughtest me of him and gavest me in marriage to the Chamberlain, after setting me free.” “Be it so,” replied Sherkan. Then he made ready the tribute in haste and gave it to the Chamberlain, bidding him make ready for Baghdad, and furnished him with camels and mules and two travelling litters, one for himself and the other for the princess. Moreover, he wrote a letter to his father and committed it to the Chamberlain. Then he took leave of his sister, after he had taken the jewel from her and hung it round his daughter’s neck by a chain of fine gold; and she and her husband set out for Baghdad the same night. Now their caravan was the very one to which Zoulmekan and his friend the stoker had joined themselves, as before related, having waited till the Chamberlain passed them, riding on a dromedary, with his footmen around him. Then Zoulmekan mounted the stoker’s ass and said to the latter, “Do thou mount with me.” But he said, “Not so: I will be thy servant.” Quoth Zoulmekan, “Needs must thou ride awhile.” “It is well,” replied the stoker; “I will ride when I grow tired.” Then said Zoulmekan, “O my brother, thou shalt see how I will do with thee, when I come to my own people.” So they journeyed on till the sun rose, and when it was the hour of the noonday rest, the Chamberlain called a halt, and they alighted and rested and watered their camels. Then he gave the signal for departure and they journeyed for five days, till they came to the city of Hemah, where they made a three days’ halt; then set out again and fared on, till they reached the province of Diarbekir. Here there blew on them the breezes of Baghdad, and Zoulmekan bethought him of his father and mother and his native land and how he was returning to his father without his sister: so he wept and sighed and complained, and his regrets increased on him, and he repeated the following verses:
How long wilt thou delay from me, beloved one? I wait: And yet there comes no messenger with tidings of thy fate. Alack, the time of love-delight and peace was brief indeed! Ah, that the days of parting thus would of their length abate! Take thou my hand and put aside my mantle and thou’lt find My body wasted sore; and yet I hide my sad estate. And if thou bid me be consoled for thee, “By God,” I say, “I’ll ne’er forget thee till the Day that calls up small and great!”
“Leave this weeping and lamenting,” said the stoker, “for we are near the Chamberlain’s tent.” Quoth Zoulmekan, “Needs must I recite somewhat of verse, so haply it may allay the fire of my heart.” “God on thee,” cried the stoker, “leave this lamentation, till thou come to thine own country; then do what thou wilt, and I will be with thee, wherever thou art.” “By Allah,” replied Zoulmekan, “I cannot forbear from this!” Then he set his face towards Baghdad and began to repeat verses. Now the moon was shining brightly and shedding her light on the place, and Nuzhet ez Zeman could not sleep that night, but was wakeful and called to mind her brother and wept. Presently, she heard Zoulmekan weeping and repeating the following verses:
The southern lightning gleams in the air And rouses in me the old despair,
The grief for a dear one, loved and lost, Who filled me the cup of joy whilere.
It minds me of her who fled away And left me friendless and sick and bare.
O soft-shining lightnings, tell me true, Are the days of happiness past fore’er?
Chide not, O blamer of me, for God Hath cursed me with two things hard to bear,
A friend who left me to pine alone, And a fortune whose smile was but a snare.
The sweet of my life was gone for aye, When fortune against me did declare;
She brimmed me a cup of grief unmixed, And I must drink it and never spare.
Or ever our meeting ‘tide, sweetheart, Methinks I shall die of sheer despair,
I prithee, fortune, bring back the days When we were a happy childish pair;
The days, when we from the shafts of fate, That since have pierced us, in safety were!
Ah, who shall succour the exiled wretch, Who passes the night in dread and care,
And the day in mourning for her whose name, Delight of the Age[FN#62], bespoke her fair?
The hands of the baseborn sons of shame Have doomed us the wede of woe to wear.
Then he cried out and fell down in a swoon, and when Nuzhet ez Zeman heard his voice in the night, her heart was solaced and she rose and called the chief eunuch, who said to her, “What is thy will?” Quoth she, “Go and fetch me him who recited verses but now.” “I did not hear him,” replied he; “the people are all asleep.” And she said, “Whomsoever thou findest awake, he is the man.” So he went out and sought, but found none awake but the stoker; for Zoulmekan was still insensible, and, Nuzhet ez Zeman, going up to the former, said to him, “Art thou he who recited verses but now, and my lady heard him?” The stoker concluded that the lady was wroth and was afraid and replied, “By Allah, ’twas not I!” “Who then was it?” rejoined the eunuch. “Point him out to me. Thou must know who it was, seeing that thou art awake.” The stoker feared for Zoulmekan and said in himself, “Maybe the eunuch will do him some hurt.” So he answered, “I know not who it was.” “By Allah,” said the eunuch, “thou liest, for there is none awake here but thou! So needs must thou know him.” “By Allah,” replied the stoker, “I tell thee the truth! It must have been some passer-by who recited the verses and disturbed me and aroused me, may God requite him!” Quoth the eunuch, “If thou happen upon him, point him out to me and I will lay hands on him and bring him to the door of my lady’s litter; or do thou take him with thine own hand.” “Go back,” said the stoker, “and I will bring him to thee.” So the eunuch went back to his mistress and said to her, “None knows who it was; it must have been some passer-by.” And she was silent. Meanwhile, Zoulmekan came to himself and saw that the moon had reached the zenith and felt the breath of the breeze that goes before the dawn; whereupon his heart was moved to longing and sadness, and he cleared his throat and was about to recite verses, when the stoker said to him, “What wilt thou do?” “I have a mind to repeat somewhat of verse,” answered Zoulmekan, “that I may allay therewith the fire of my heart.” Quoth the other, “Thou knowest not what befell me, whilst thou wert aswoon, and how I only escaped death by beguiling the eunuch.” “Tell me what happened,” said Zoulrnekan. “Whilst thou wert aswoon,” replied the stoker, “there came up to me but now an eunuch, with a long staff of almond-tree wood in his hand, who looked in all the people’s faces, as they lay asleep, and finding none awake but myself, asked me who it was recited the verses. I told him it was some passer-by; so he went away and God delivered me from him; else had he killed me. But first he said to me, ‘If thou hear him again, bring him to us.'” When Zoulmekan heard this, he wept and said, “Who is it would forbid me to recite? I will surely do so, come what may; for I am near my own country and care for no one.” “Dost thou wish to destroy thyself?” asked the stoker; and Zoulmekan answered, “I cannot help reciting verses.” “Verily,” said the stoker, “I see this will bring about a parting between us here though I had promised myself not to leave thee, till I had brought thee to thy native city and re-united thee with thy mother and father. Thou hast now been with me a year and a half, and I have never baulked thee or harmed thee in aught. What ails thee then, that thou must needs recite, seeing that we are exceeding weary with travel and watching and all the folk are asleep, for they need sleep to rest them of their fatigue.” But Zoulmekan answered, “I will not be turned from my purpose.” Then grief moved him and he threw off disguise and began to repeat the following verses:
Halt by the camp and hail the ruined steads by the brake, And call on her name aloud; mayhap she will answer make. And if for her absence the night of sadness darken on thee, Light in its gloom a fire with longings for her sake. Though the snake of the sand-hills hiss, small matter is it to me If it sting me, so I the fair with the lips of crimson take. O Paradise, left perforce of the spirit, but that I hope For ease in the mansions of bliss, my heart would surely break!
And these also:
Time was when fortune was to us even as a servant is, And in the loveliest of lands our happy lives did kiss. Ah, who shall give me back the abode of my belov’d, wherein The Age’s Joy[FN#63] and Place’s Light[FN#64] erst dwelt in peace and bliss?
Then he cried out three times and fell down senseless, and the stoker rose and covered him. When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard the first verses, she called to mind her mother and father and brother; and when she heard the second, mentioning the names of herself and her brother and their sometime home, she wept and calling the eunuch, said to him, “Out on thee! But now I heard him who recited the first time do so again, and that hard by. So, by Allah, an thou fetch him not to me, I will rouse the Chamberlain on thee, and he shall beat thee and turn thee away. But take these hundred dinars and give them to him and do him no hurt, but bring him to me gently. If he refuse, give him this purse of a thousand dinars and leave him and return to me and tell me, after thou hast informed thyself of his place and condition and what countryman he is. Return quickly and do not linger, and beware lest thou come back and say, ‘I could not find him.'” So the eunuch went out and fell to examining the people and treading amongst them, but found none awake, for the folk were all asleep for weariness, till he came to the stoker and saw him sitting up, with his head uncovered. So he drew near him and seizing him by the hand, said to him, “It was thou didst recite the verses!” The stoker was affrighted and replied, “No, by Allah, O chief of the people, it was not I!” But the eunuch said, “I will not leave thee till thou show me who it was; for I fear to return to my lady without him.” Thereupon the stoker feared for Zoulmekan and wept sore and said to the eunuch, “By Allah, it was not I, nor do I know who it was. I only heard some passer-by recite verses: so do not thou commit sin on me, for I am a stranger and come from Jerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of God be with thee!” “Come thou with me,” rejoined the eunuch, “and tell my lady this with thine own mouth, for I see none awake but thee.” Quoth the stoker, “Hast thou not seen me sitting here and dost thou not know my station? Thou knowest none can stir from his place, except the guards seize him. So go thou to thy mistress and if thou hear any one reciting again, whether it be near or far, it will be I or some one whom I shall know, and thou shalt not know of him but by me.” Then he kissed the eunuch’s head and spoke him fair, till he went away; but he made a circuit and returning secretly, came and hid himself behind the stoker, fearing to go back to his mistress empty-handed. As soon as he was gone, the stoker aroused Zoulmekan and said to him, “Awake and sit up, that I may tell thee what has happened.” So Zoulmekan sat up, and the stoker told him what had passed, and he answered, “Let me alone; I will take no heed of this and I care for none, for I am near my own country.” Quoth the stoker, “Why wilt thou obey thine own inclinations and the promptings of the devil? If thou fearest no one, I fear for thee and myself; so God on thee, recite no more verses, till thou come to thine own country! Indeed, I had not thought thee so self-willed. Dost thou not know that this lady is the wife of the Chamberlain and is minded to chide thee for disturbing her. Belike, she is ill or restless for fatigue, and this is the second time she hath sent the eunuch to look for thee.” However, Zoulmekan paid no heed to him, but cried out a third time and repeated the following verses:
The carping tribe I needs must flee; Their railing chafes my misery.
They blame and chide at me nor know They do but fan the flame in me.
“She is consoled,” they say. And I, “Can one consoled for country be?”
Quoth they, “How beautiful she is!” And I, “How dear-belov’d is she!”
“How high her rank!” say they; and I, “How base is my humility!” Now God forfend I leave to love, Deep though I drink of agony! Nor will I heed the railing race, Who carp at me for loving thee.
Hardly had he made an end of these verses when the eunuch, who had heard him from his hiding, came up to him; whereupon the stoker fled and stood afar off, to see what passed between them. Then said the eunuch to Zoulmekan, “Peace be on thee, O my lord!” “And on thee be peace,” replied Zoulmekan, “and the mercy of God and His blessing!” “O my lord,” continued the eunuch, “this is the third time I have sought thee this night, for my mistress bids thee to her.” Quoth Zoulmekan, “Whence comes this bitch that seeks for me? May God curse her and her husband too!” And he began to revile the eunuch, who could make him no answer, because his mistress had charged him to do Zoulmekan no violence nor bring him, save of his free will, and if he would not come, to give him the thousand dinars. So he began to speak him fair and say to him, “O my lord, take this (purse) and go with me. We will do thee no unright nor wrong thee in aught; but we would have thee bend thy gracious steps with me to my mistress, to speak with her and return in peace and safety; and thou shalt have a handsome present.” When Zoulmekan heard this, he arose and went with the eunuch, stepping over the sleeping folk, whilst the stoker followed them at a distance, saying to himself, “Alas, the pity of his youth! To-morrow they will hang him. How base it will be of him, if he say it was I who bade him recite the verses!” And he drew near to them and stood, watching them, without their knowledge, till they came to Nuzhet ez Zeman’s tent, when the eunuch went in to her and said, “O my lady, I have brought thee him whom thou soughtest, and he is a youth, fair of face and bearing the marks of gentle breeding.” When she heard this, her heart fluttered and she said, “Let him recite some verses, that I may hear him near at hand, and after ask him his name and extraction.” So the eunuch went out to Zoulmekan and said to him, “Recite what verses thou knowest, for my lady is here hard by, listening to thee, and after I will ask thee of thy name and extraction and condition.” “Willingly,” replied he; “but as for my name, it is blotted out and my trace among men is passed away and my body wasted. I have a story, the beginning of which is not known nor can the end of it be described, and behold, I am even as one who hath exceeded in drinking wine, till he hath lost the mastery of himself and is afflicted with distempers and wanders from his right mind, being perplexed about his case and drowned in the sea of melancholy.” When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she broke out into loud weeping and sobbing and said to the eunuch, “Ask him if he have lost a beloved one, such as his father or mother.” The eunuch did as she bade him, and Zoulmekan replied, “Yes, I have lost all whom I loved: but the dearest of all to me was my sister, from whom Fate hath parted me.” When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she exclaimed, “May God the Most High reunite him with those he loves!” Then said she to the eunuch, “Tell him to let me hear somewhat on the subject of his separation from his people and his country.” The eunuch did so, and Zoulmekan sighed heavily and repeated the following verses:
Ah, would that I knew they were ware Of the worth of the heart they have won!
Would I knew through what passes they fare, From what quarter they look on the sun! Are they living, I wonder, or dead? Can it be that their life’s race is run? Ah, the lover is ever distraught And his life for misgivings undone!
And also these:
I vow, if e’er the place shall bless my longing sight, Wherein my sister dwells, the age’s dear delight,[FN#65] I’ll take my fill of life and all the sweets of peace, Midst trees and flowing streams: and maidens fair and bright The lute’s enchanting tones shall soothe me to repose, What while I quaff full cups of wine like living light And honeyed dews of love suck from the deep-red lips Of lovelings sleepy-eyed, with tresses black as night.
When he had finished, Nuzhet ez Zeman lifted up a corner of the curtain of the litter and looked at him. As soon as her eyes fell on him, she knew him for certain and cried out, “O my brother! O Zoulmekan!” He looked at her and knew her and cried out, “O my sister! O Nuzhet ez Zeman!” Then she threw herself upon him, and he received her in his arms, and they both fell down in a swoon. When the eunuch saw this, he wondered and throwing over them somewhat to cover them, waited till they should recover. After awhile, they came to themselves, and Nuzhet ez Zeman rejoiced exceedingly. Grief and anxiety left her and joys flocked upon her and she repeated the following verses:
Fate swore ‘twould never cease to plague my life and make me rue. Thou hast not kept thine oath, O Fate; so look thou penance do.
Gladness is come and my belov’d is here to succour me; So rise unto the summoner of joys, and quickly too. I had no faith in Paradise of olden time, until I won the nectar of its streams from lips of damask hue.
When Zoulmekan heard this, he pressed his sister to his breast, whilst, for the excess of his joy, the tears streamed from his eyes and he repeated the following verses:
Long time have I bewailed the severance of our loves, With tears that from my lids streamed down like burning rain, And vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should never speak of severance again.
Joy hath o’erwhelmed me so, that, for the very stress Of that which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain. Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, So that ye weep alike for gladness and for pain.
They sat awhile at the door of the litter, conversing, till she said to him, “Come with me into the litter and tell me all that has befallen thee, and I will do the like.” So they entered and Zoulmekan said, “Do thou begin.” Accordingly, she told him all that had happened to her since their separation and said, “Praised be God who hath vouchsafed thee to me and ordained that, even as we left our father together, so we shall return to him together! Now tell me how it has fared with thee since I left thee.” So he told her all that had befallen him and how God had sent the stoker to him, and how he had journeyed with him and spent his money on him and tended him night and day. She praised the stoker for this, and Zoulmekan added, “Indeed, O my sister, the man hath dealt with me in such benevolent wise as would not a lover with his mistress or a father with his son, for that he fasted and gave me to eat, and went afoot, whilst he made me ride; and I owe my life to him.” “God willing,” said she, “we will requite him for all this, according to our power.” Then she called the eunuch, who came and kissed Zoulmekan’s hand, and she said, “Take thy reward for glad tidings, O face of good omen! It was thy hand reunited me with my brother; so the purse I gave thee and its contents are thine. But now go to thy master and bring him quickly to me.” The eunuch rejoiced and going to the Chamberlain, summoned him to his mistress. Accordingly, he came in to his wife and finding Zoulmekan with her, asked who he was. So she told him all that had befallen them, first and last, and added, “Know, O Chamberlain, that thou hast gotten no slave-girl to wife: but the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman: for I am Nuzhet ez Zeman, and this is my brother Zoulmekan.” When the Chamberlain heard her story, he knew it for the manifest truth and was certified that he was become King Omar ben Ennuman’s son-in-law and said to himself, “I shall surely be made governor of some province.” Then he went up to Zoulmekan and gave him joy of his safety and re-union with his sister, and bade his servants forthwith make him ready a tent and one of the best of his own horses to ride. Then said Nuzhet ez Zeman, “We are now near my country and I would fain be alone with my brother, that we may enjoy one another’s company and take our fill of each other, before we reach Baghdad; for we have been long parted.” “Be it as thou wilt,” replied the Chamberlain and going forth, sent them wax candles and various kinds of sweetmeats, together with three costly suits of clothes for Zoulmekan. Then he returned to the litter, and Nuzhet ez Zeman said to him, “Bid the eunuch find the stoker and give him a horse to ride and provide him a tray of food morning and evening, and let him be forbidden to leave us.” The Chamberlain called the eunuch and charged him accordingly; so he took his pages with him and went out in search of the stoker, whom he found at the tail of the caravan, saddling his ass and preparing for flight. The tears were running down his cheeks, out of fear for himself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan, and he was saying to himself, “Indeed, I warned him for the love of God, but he would not listen to me. O that I knew what is become of him!” Before he had done speaking, the eunuch came up and stood behind him, whilst the pages surrounded him. The stoker turned and seeing the eunuch and the pages round him, changed colour and trembled in every nerve for affright, exclaiming, “Verily, he knows not the value of the good offices I have done him! I believe he has denounced me to the eunuch and made me an accomplice in his offence.” Then the eunuch cried out at him, saying, “Who was it recited the verses? Liar that thou art, why didst thou tell me that thou knewest not who it was, when it was thy companion? But now I will not leave thee till we come to Baghdad, and what betides thy comrade shall betide thee.” Quoth the stoker, “Verily, what I feared has fallen on me.” And he repeated the following verse:
‘Tis e’en as I feared it would be: We are God’s and to Him return we.
Then said the eunuch to the pages, “Take him off the ass.” So they took him off the ass and setting him on a horse, carried him along with the caravan, surrounded by the pages, to whom said the eunuch, “If a hair of him be missing, it shall be the worse for you.” But he bade them privily treat him with consideration and not humiliate him. When the stoker saw himself in this case, he gave himself up for lost and turning to the eunuch, said to him, “O chief, I am neither this youth’s brother nor anywise akin to him; but I was a stoker in a bath and found him lying asleep on the fuel-heap.” Then the caravan fared on and the stoker wept and imagined a thousand things in himself, whilst the eunuch walked by his side and told him nothing, but said to him, “You disturbed our mistress by reciting verses, thou and the lad: but have no fear for thyself.” This he said, laughing at him the while in himself. When the caravan halted, they brought them food, and he and the eunuch ate from one dish. Then the eunuch let bring a gugglet of sherbet of sugar and after drinking himself, gave it to the stoker, who drank; but all the while his tears ceased not flowing, out of fear for himself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan and for what had befallen them in their strangerhood. So they travelled on with the caravan, whilst the Chamberlain now rode by the door of his wife’s litter, in attendance on Zoulmekan and the princess, and now gave an eye to the stoker, and Nuzhet ez Zeman and her brother occupied themselves with converse and mutual condolence; and so they did till they came within three days’ journey of Baghdad. Here they alighted at eventide and rested till the morning, when they woke and were about to load the beasts, when behold, there appeared afar off a great cloud of dust, that obscured the air, till it became as dark as night. Thereupon the Chamberlain cried out to them to stay their preparations for departure, and mounting with his officers rode forward in the direction of the dust-cloud. When they drew near it, they perceived under it a numerous army, like the full flowing sea, with drums and flags and standards and horsemen and footmen. The Chamberlain marvelled at this: and when the troops saw him, there came forth from amongst them a troop of five hundred horse, who fell upon him and his suite and surrounded them, five for one; whereupon said he to them, “What is the matter and what are these troops, that ye use us thus?” “Who art thou?” asked they. “Whence comest thou and whither art thou bound?” And he answered, “I am the Chamberlain of the Viceroy of Damascus, King Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorassan, and I bring tribute and presents from him to his father in Baghdad.” When the horsemen heard speak of King Omar, they let their kerchiefs fall over their faces and wept, saying, “Alas! King Omar is dead, and he died poisoned. But fare ye on, no harm shall befall you, and join his Grand Vizier Dendan.” When the Chamberlain heard this, he wept sore and exclaimed, “Alas, our disappointment in this our journey!” Then he and his suite rode on, weeping, till they reached the main body of the army and sought access to the Vizier Dendan, who called a halt and causing his pavilion to be pitched, sat down on a couch therein and commanded to admit the Chamberlain. Then he bade him be seated and questioned him; and he replied that he was the Viceroy’s Chamberlain of Damascus and was bound to King Omar with presents and the tribute of Syria. The Vizier wept at the mention of King Omar’s name and said, “King Omar is dead by poison, and the folk fell out amongst themselves as to whom they should make king after him, so that they were like to come to blows on this account; but the notables and grandees interposed and restored peace, and the people agreed to refer the matter to the decision of the four Cadis, who adjudged that we should go to Damascus and fetch thence the late king’s son Sherkan and make him king over his father’s realm. Some of them would have chosen his second son Zoulmekan, were it not that he and his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman set out five years ago for Mecca, and none knows what is become of them.” When the Chamberlain heard this, he knew that his wife had told him the truth and grieved sore for the death of King Omar, what while he was greatly rejoiced, especially at the arrival of Zoulmekan, for that he would now become King of Baghdad in his father’s room. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, “Verily, your affair is a wonder of wonders! Know, O chief Vizier, that here, where you have encountered me, God giveth you rest from fatigue and bringeth you that you desire after the easiest of fashions, in that He restoreth to you Zoulmekan and his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman, whereby the matter is settled and made easy.” When the Vizier heard this, he rejoiced greatly and said, “O Chamberlain, tell me their story and the reason of their having been so long absent.” So he repeated to him the whole story and told him that Nuzhet ez Zeman was his wife. As soon as he had made an end of his tale, the Vizier sent for the amirs and viziers and grandees and acquainted them with the matter; whereat they rejoiced greatly and wondered at the happy chance. Then they went in to the Chamberlain and did their service to him, kissing the earth before him; and the Vizier Dendan also rose and stood before him, in token of respect. After this the Chamberlain held a great council, and he and the Vizier sat upon a throne, whilst all the amirs and officers of state took their places before them, according to their several ranks. Then they dissolved sugar in rose-water and drank, after which the amirs sat down to hold council and bade the rest mount and ride forward leisurely, till they should make an end of their deliberations and overtake them. So the officers kissed the earth before them and mounting, rode onward, preceded by the standards of war. When the amirs had finished their conference, they mounted and rejoined the troops; and the Chamberlain said to the Vizier Dendan, “I think it well to ride on before you, that I may notify Zoulmekan of your coming and choice of him as Sultan over the head of his brother Sherkan, and that I may make him ready a place befitting his dignity.” “It is well thought,” answered the Vizier. Then the Chamberlain rose and Dendan also rose, to do him honour, and brought him presents, which he conjured him to accept. On like wise did all the amirs and officers of state, calling down blessings on him and saying to him, “Mayhap thou will make mention of our case to King Zoulmekan and speak to him to continue us in our dignities.” The Chamberlain promised what they asked and the Vizier Dendan sent with him tents and bade the tent-pitchers set them up at a days journey from the city. Then the Chamberlain mounted and rode forward, full of joy and saying in himself, “How blessed is this journey!” And indeed his wife was exalted in his eyes, she and her brother Zoulmekan. They made all haste, till they reached a place distant a day’s journey from Baghdad, where he called a halt and bade his men alight and make ready a sitting place for the Sultan Zoulmekan, whilst he rode forward with his pages and alighting at a distance from Nuzhet ez Zeman’s litter, commanded the eunuchs to ask the princess’s leave to admit him. They did so and she gave leave; whereupon he went in to her and her brother and told them of the death of their father, King Omar ben Ennuman, and how the heads of the people had made Zoulmekan king over them in his stead; and he gave them joy of the kingdom. When they heard this, they both wept for their father and asked the manner of his death. “The news rests with the Vizier Dendan,” replied the Chamberlain, “who will be here to-morrow with all the troops; and it only remains for thee, O prince, to do what they counsel, since they have chosen thee King; for if thou do not this, they will crown another, and thou canst not be sure of thyself with another king. Haply he will kill thee, or discord may befall between you and the kingdom pass out of your hands.” Zoulmekan bowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, “I accept;” for indeed he saw that the Chamberlain had counselled him rightly and that there was no refusing; “but, O uncle, how shall I do with my brother Sherkan?” “O my son,” replied the Chamberlain, “thy brother will be Sultan of Damascus, and thou Sultan of Baghdad; so gird up thy resolution and prepare to do what befits thy case.” Then he presented him with a suit of royal raiment and a dagger of state, that the Vizier Dendan had brought with him, and leaving him, returned to the tent-pitchers and bade them choose out a spot of rising ground and pitch thereon a spacious and splendid pavilion, wherein the Sultan might sit to receive the amirs and grandees. Then he ordered the cooks to make ready rich food and serve it up and the water-carriers to set up the water-troughs. They did as he bade them and presently there arose a cloud of dust and spread till it obscured the horizon. After awhile, the breeze dispersed it, and there appeared under it the army of Baghdad and Khorassan, led by the Vizier Dendan, all rejoicing in the accession of Zoulmekan. Now Zoulmekan had donned the royal robes and girt himself with the sword of state: so the Chamberlain brought him a steed and he mounted, surrounded by the rest of the company on foot, and rode between the tents, till he came to the royal pavilion, where he entered and sat down, with the royal dagger across his thighs, whilst the Chamberlain stood in attendance on him and his servants stationed themselves in the vestibule of the pavilion, with drawn swords in their hands. Presently, up came the troops and sought admission to the King’s presence; so the Chamberlain went in to Zoulmekan and asked his leave, whereupon he bade admit them, ten by ten. Accordingly, the Chamberlain went out to them and acquainted them with the King’s orders, to which they replied, “We hear and obey.” Then he took ten of them and carried them, through the vestibule, into the presence of the Sultan, whom when they saw, they were awed; but he received them with the utmost kindness and promised them all good. So they gave him joy of his safe return and invoked God’s blessing upon him, after which they took the oath of fealty to him, and kissing the earth before him, withdrew. Then other ten entered and he received them in the same manner; and they ceased not to enter, ten by ten, till none was left but the Vizier Dendan. So he went in and kissed the earth before Zoulmekan, who rose to meet him, saying, “Welcome, O noble Vizier and father! Verily, thine acts are those of a precious counsellor, and judgment and foresight are in the hands of the Subtle, the All Wise.” Then he commanded the Chamberlain to go out and cause the tables to be spread at once and bid the troops thereto. So they came and ate and drank. Moreover, he bade Dendan call a ten days’ halt of the army, that he might be private with him and learn from him the manner of his father’s death. Accordingly, the Vizier went forth and transmitted the King’s wishes to the troops, who received his commands with submission and wished him eternity of glory. Moreover, he gave them leave to divert themselves and ordered that none of the lords in waiting should go in to the King for his service for the space of three days. Then Zoulmekan waited till nightfall, when he went in to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, “Dost thou know the fashion of my father’s death or not?” “I have no knowledge of it,” replied she, and drew a silken curtain before herself, whilst Zoulmekan seated himself without the curtain and sending for the Vizier, bade him relate to him in detail the manner of King Omar’s death. “Know then, O King,” replied Dendan, “that King Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned to Baghdad from his hunting excursion, enquired for thee and thy sister, but could not find you and knew that you had gone on the pilgrimage, whereat he was greatly concerned and angered, and his breast was contracted. He abode thus a whole year, seeking news of you from all who came and went, but none could give him any tidings of you. At the end of this time, as we were one day in attendance upon him, there came to us an old woman, as she were a devotee, accompanied by five damsels, high-bosomed maids, like moons, endowed with such beauty and grace as the tongue fails to describe; and to crown their perfections, they knew the Koran by heart and were versed in various kinds of learning and in the histories of bygone peoples. The old woman sought an audience of the King, and he bade admit her; whereupon she entered and kissed the ground before him. Now I was then sitting by his side, and he, seeing in her the signs of devoutness and asceticism, made her draw near and sit down by him. So she sat down and said to him, ‘Know, O King, that with me are five damsels, whose like no king possesses, for they are endowed with beauty and grace and wit. They know the Koran and the traditions and are skilled in all manner of learning and in the history of bygone peoples. They are here before thee, at thy disposal; for it is by proof that folk are prized or disdained.’ Thy late father looked at the damsels and their favour pleased him; so he said to them, ‘Let each of you tell me something of what she knows of the history of bygone folk and peoples of times past.’ Thereupon one of them came forward and kissing the earth before him, spoke as follows, ‘Know, O King, that it behoves the man of good breeding to eschew impertinence and adorn himself with excellencies, observing the Divine precepts and shunning mortal sins; and to this he should apply himself with the assiduity of one who, if he stray therefrom, is lost; for the foundation of good breeding is virtuous behaviour. Know that the chief reason of existence is the endeavour after life everlasting and the right way thereto is the service of God: so it behoves thee to deal righteously with the people; and swerve not from this rubrick, for the mightier folk are in dignity, the more need they have of prudence and foresight; and indeed kings need this more than common folk, for the general cast themselves into affairs, without taking thought to the issue of them. Be thou prodigal both of thyself and thy treasure in the way of God and know that, if an enemy dispute with thee, thou mayst litigate with him and refute him with proof and ward thyself against him; but as for thy friend, there is none can judge between thee and him but righteousness and fair-dealing. Wherefore, choose thy friend for thyself, after thou hast proved him. If he be a man of religion, let him be zealous in observing the external letter of the Law and versed in its inner meaning, as far as may be: and if he be a man of the world, let him be free-born, sincere, neither ignorant nor perverse, for the ignorant man is such that even his parents might well flee from him, and a liar cannot be a true friend, for the word “friend”[FN#66] is derived from “truth,”[FN#67] that emanates from the bottom of the heart; and how can this be the case, when falsehood is manifest upon the tongue? Know, therefore, that the observance of the Law profits him who practices it: so love thy brother, if he be after this fashion, and do not cast him off, even if thou see in him that which thou mislikest; for a friend is not like a wife whom one can divorce and take again; but his heart is like glass; once broken, it cannot be mended. And God bless him who says:
Be careful not to hurt men’s hearts nor work them aught of dole, For hard it is to bring again a once estranged soul; And hearts, indeed, whose loves in twain by discord have been rent Are like a broken glass, whose breach may never be made whole.
The wise say (continued she), “The best of friends is he who is the most assiduous in good counsel, the best of actions is that which is fairest in its result, and the best of praise is (not) that which is in the mouths of men.” It is said also, “It behoves not the believer to neglect to thank God, especially for two favours, health and reason.” Again, “He who honoureth himself, his lust is a light matter to him, and he who makes much of small troubles, God afflicts him with great ones: he who obeys his own inclination neglects his duties and he who listens to the slanderer loses the true friend. He who thinks well of thee, do thou fulfil his thought of thee. He who exceeds in contention sins, and he who does not beware of upright is not safe from the sword.”
Now will I tell thee somewhat of the duties of judges. Know, O King, that no judgment serves the cause of justice except it be given after deliberation, and it behoves the judge to treat all people alike, to the intent that the rich and noble may not be encouraged to oppression nor the poor and weak despair of justice. He should extract proof from him who complains and impose an oath upon him who denies; and compromise is lawful between Muslims, except it be a compromise sanctioning an unlawful or forbidding a lawful thing. If he have done aught during the day, of which he is doubtful, the judge should reconsider it and apply his discernment to elucidating it, that (if he have erred) he may revert to the right, for to do justice is a religious obligation and to return to that which is right is better than perseverance in error. Then he should study the precedents and the law of the case and do equal justice between the suitors, fixing his eye upon the truth and committing his affair to God, to whom belong might and majesty. Let him require proof of the complainant, and if he adduce it, let him put the defendant to his oath; for this is the ordinance of God. He should receive the testimony of competent Muslim witnesses, one against another, for God the Most High hath commanded judges to judge by externals, He Himself taking charge of the secret things. It behoves the judge also to avoid giving judgment, whilst suffering from stress of pain or hunger, and that in his decisions between the folk he seek to please God, for he whose intent is pure and who is at peace with his conscience, God shall guarantee him against what is between him and the people. Quoth Ez Zuhri,[FN#68] “There are three things, which if they be found in a Cadi, he should be deposed; namely, if he honour the base, love praise and fear dismissal.” It is related that Omar ben Abdulaziz once deposed a Cadi, who asked him why he had done so. “It has come to my knowledge,” replied Omar, “that thy speech is greater than thy condition.” It is said also that Iskender[FN#69] said to his Cadi, “I have invested thee with this function and committed to thee in it my soul and my honour and manhood; so do thou guard it with thy soul and thine understanding.” To his cook he said, “Thou art the governor of my body; so look thou tender it.” To his secretary he said, “Thou art the controller of my wit: so do thou watch over me in what thou writest for me.”‘
With this the first damsel retired and a second one came forward and kissing the earth seven times before the King thy father, spoke as follows: ‘The sage Lucman[FN#70] said to his son, “There are three men whom thou shalt not know, but in three several cases; thou shalt not know the merciful man but in time of anger, nor the brave man but in time of war nor thy friend but when thou hast need of him.” It is said that the oppressor shall repent, though the people praise him, and that the oppressed is safe, though the people blame him. Quoth God the Most High, “[FN#71] Think not that those who rejoice in their deeds and love to be praised for that which they have not done, shall escape punishment; indeed there is reserved for them a grievous punishment.” Quoth Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation), “Works are according to intentions, and to each man is attributed that which he intends.” He saith also, “There is a part of the human body, which being whole, all the rest is whole, and which being corrupt, the whole body is corrupt; it is the heart. And indeed the heart is the most marvellous part of man, since it is that which ordereth his whole affair; if covetise stir in it, desire destroys him, and if affliction master it, anguish slays him: if anger rage in it, danger is sore upon him, and if it be blest with contentment, he is safe from discontent; if fear overtake it, he is filled with mourning, and if calamity smite it, affliction betideth him. If a man gain wealth, his heart is peradventure diverted thereby from the remembrance of his Lord, and if poverty afflict him, his heart is distracted by care, or if disquietude waste his heart, weakness reduces him to impotence. So, in any case, there is nothing will profit him but that he be mindful of God and occupy himself with gaining his living and securing his place in Paradise.” It was asked of a certain wise man, “Who is the most ill-conditioned of men?” “He,” replied the sage, “whose lusts master his manhood and whose mind exceeds in the pursuit of objects of high emprise, so that his knowledge increases and his excuse diminishes; and how excellent is what the poet says:
The freest of all men from need of the arrogant meddler am I, The fool who’s unguided of God and judges the folk all awry; For wealth and good gifts are a loan and each man at last shall be clad As it were in a mantle, with that which hid in his bosom doth lie.
If thou enter on aught by a door that is other than right, thou wilt err; But the right door will dead thee aright, for sure, if thou enter there by.”
As for anecdotes of devotees (continued the maiden), quoth Hisham ben Besher, “I said to Omar ben Ubeid, ‘What is true devoutness?’ and he answered, ‘The Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) hath expounded it, when he says, “The devout is he who takes thought to death and calamity and prefers that which is eternal to that which passes away, who counts not the morrow as of his days, but reckons himself among the dead.”‘” And it is related that Abou Dherr[FN#72] used to say, “Poverty is dearer to me than riches and sickness than health.” Quoth one of the listeners, “May God have mercy on Abou Dherr! For my part, I say, ‘He who puts his trust in the goodness of the election of God the Most High should be content with that condition of which the Almighty hath made choice for him.'” Quoth one of the Companions (of the Prophet), “Ibn Ali Aqfa[FN#73] prayed with us the morning-prayer one day. When he had done, he read the seventy-fourth chapter (of the Koran), beginning, ‘O thou that coverest thyself!’ till he came to where God says, ‘When the trumpet is blown,’ and fell down dead.” It is said that Thabit el Benani wept till he well nigh lost his eyes. They brought him a man to tend him, who said to him, “I will cure thee, provided thou do my bidding.” “In what respect?” asked Thabit. “In that thou leave weeping,” replied the physician. “What is the use of my eyes,” rejoined Thabit, “if they do not weep?” Said a man to Mohammed ibn Abdallah, “Exhort me.” “I exhort thee,” replied he, “to be an abstinent possessor in this world and a greedy slave in the next.” “How so?” asked the other; and Mohammed said, “The abstinent man in this world possesses both this world and the world to come.” Quoth Ghauth ben Abdallah, “There were two brothers among the people of Israel, one of whom said to the other, ‘What is the worst thing thou hast done?’ ‘One day,’ answered the other, ‘I came upon a nest of young birds; so I took out one and threw it back into the nest; but the others drew apart from it. This is the worst thing I ever did; so now tell me what is the worst thing thou hast ever done.’ ‘When I betake myself to prayer,’ rejoined the first, ‘I am fearful to have done so only for the sake of the reward. This is the worst thing I have done.’ Now their father heard what they said and exclaimed, ‘O my God, if they speak the truth, take them to Thyself!’ Quoth one of the wise men, ‘Verily these were of the most virtuous of children.'” Quoth Said ben Jubeir,[FN#74] “I was once in company with Fuzaleh ibn Ubeid and said to him, ‘Give me