Edmund Dulac's picture-book for the French Red Cross/The Sleeper Awakened

THE SLEEPER AWAKENED

A TALE FROM
THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS

Abu Hasan the Wag!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the caliph summoned his grand vizier.

'Giafer,' said he, 'you see this man upon my state bed: now mark my words. In the morning, when he awakes, see to it that you treat him in every respect as you would myself. Accost him with the same reverence, and observe and do whatever he bids you, for I have put him in my place. Convince him by thy subtlety, Giafer, that he is indeed the caliph of Baghdad, and that his lightest word must be obeyed. His generosity is such that he may wish to empty the coffers of my treasury on the heads of the poor: even so, carry out his commands. And see to it, Giafer, that all, from the emirs to the lowest slaves, pay him the same honour and obedience as they would myself, always exercising the greatest care lest he discover that he is not what he seems. Moreover, as this is a rare diversion after my own heart, be sure to wake me before the drug releases him; and, as thou knowest, the power of the benj lasts little more than three hours, and, after that, natural sleep, from which he can be awakened. But, Giafer, wake me first, for I would see what I would see.'

The vizier failed not to understand. He quickly conducted the caliph to a couch behind some heavy velvet hangings, whence, by parting the folds, he would be able to see all he desired. Then the vizier went to prepare the whole Court for the part they were to play.

In the morning, as the three hours' thrall of the benj drew to a close, the royal apartment was as it had always been at the hour of sunrise. The officers and the ladies of the Court were there, placed according to their rank. The other attendants—the eunuchs and the slave-girls—took their positions as usual, for the caliph was due to arise and prepare for morning prayer.

A slave-girl struck some joyous chords upon her lute, and Abu Hasan awoke with a start. He sat up and looked about him. The royal couch, the resplendent apartment lit by the morning sun, the courtiers bowing before him—surely this was all a dream! With a sigh at the seeming reality of it all he sank back and went to sleep again.

Presently, however, he awoke a second time to the continued music of the lute. Again he sat up and stared in blank astonishment at the richly apparelled attendants of the Court making obeisance to him. Then a lovely slave-girl ran forward and bowed low. 'O Prince of the Faithful, she said, it is the hour of morning prayer. It is thy daily wish that I remind thee of this.

Abu Hasan remained speechless. He knew not what to make of it. He looked again at the sumptuous magnificence of the apartment and rubbed his eyes. 'Am I awake?' he cried. 'Is this real? Nay, nay; it cannot be: I dream.'

'O Prince of the Faithful,' said the slave-girl, 'hast thou indeed dreamed that thou wert other than the Lord of all Creatures? It was an evil dream, my lord I and now that thou art awake, I pray thee remember thy usual custom.'

'Alas!' exclaimed Abu Hasan, beating his breast, 'what affair is this? Am I Abu Hasan dreaming I am the caliph, or am I in truth the caliph who heretofore dreamed he was Abu Hasan?'

Meanwhile the caliph himself, peering between the velvet hangings, revelled in the exquisite perplexity of his guest. And when, after Abu Hasan had given the lie to one and another who sought to convince him, and, being fairly beaten, had to admit that he was indeed the caliph of Baghdad, Rashid himself nearly split his sides with merriment. Finally, when Hasan, believing himself the Lord of all Creatures, commanded all present to withdraw and let him sleep on, the caliph rocked and rolled upon his hidden couch as if in a fit

As for Abu Hasan, he fell asleep again and dreamed he was naught but Abu Hasan, the merchant. But later he awoke to find it was only a dream. Of a verity he was the caliph of Baghdad, for there by his side stood Mesrur, the High Executioner.

'Commander of the Faithful,' said Mesrur, prostrating himself, 'your Majesty will forgive me for reminding you that it is unusual to rise so late. The time of prayers is over and the business of the day waits. The chief officers of state dwell upon your pleasure in the Council Hall.'

Abu Hasan looked at him keenly. 'Am I awake?' he asked. 'Or do I dream that I am awake?' Then, holding out his little finger to Mesrur, he added, 'Bite that!'

Now Mesrur, who knew that the real caliph's eyes were upon him, was anxious to please him, so he advanced, and, taking Hasan's little finger, bit it hard—so hard that the owner of it cried out with pain. 'Ha!' he cried, 'I do not sleep: I feel, I see, I hear, I speak. Enough!'

'Enough, Monarch of the World!' replied Mesrur. 'Wilt thou deign to rise?'

Then Abu Hasan arose, and was dressed by the officers of the bedchamber. Arrayed in magnificent robes of state he followed Mesrur to the Council Hall, where he ascended the throne amid the acclamations of the Court.

Er-Rashid himself found a niche high in the side of the hall, a point from which he could see all that took place within. It pleased him greatly to notice with what a solemn dignity Abu Hasan occupied the throne. He evidently believed firmly and truly that he was indeed the caliph. How gracious and condescending he was as the principal officers of the Court approached, and, having made obeisance, preferred petitions which were granted or refused wisely and without the least embarrassment.

The business of the day was nearly over when Abu Hasan caught sight of the cadi, whose face he knew very well. 'Stop!' he said to the grand vizier, who was making a long speech 'I have an order of great moment to give to the cadi.'

The cadi immediately arose on hearing his name and prostrated himself before the throne. In his excitement at a sudden thought Abu Hasan had risen to his feet. The vizier stepped forward. 'O Prince of the Faithful!' he said, 'forget not that all men are thy humble slaves, and that it is not fitting for the Lord of all Creatures to rise to any.'

But Hasan waved him aside. 'Peace!' he said sternly. 'I have a command of the greatest importance for the cadi, and I cannot deliver it sitting.' Then, turning to the cadi, he continued, 'Proceed immediately to the house of Abu Hasan and give into the hand of his mother a thousand pieces of gold with my blessing. Then repair to the mosque near by and take the imam and his four chief sheiks and bestow upon them a hundred strokes each. After that impale them each upon a camel, with their faces towards the tails of the beasts, and drive them through all the ways of the city, with a crier in advance proclaiming, "Behold the reward of those who meddle in other people's affairs!" When this is done, see to it that they are expelled from their mosque for ever.'

Having said this Abu Hasan sat down upon the throne with a gasp. He had achieved the dearest wish of his heart. Then he declared the Court closed, and, one by one, all present passed before him and made the same obeisance as when they entered.

Abu Hasan descended the throne and was conducted into a great hall of stately magnificence, where a sumptuous feast was spread. The plates and dishes were of solid gold, and from the rare viands upon them were spread abroad the odours of spices and ambergris. Ten of the most beautiful ladies of the Court stood about the seat set for him with fans to fan him while he dined.

Now Abu Hasan the Wag had a merry wit. Contending that one fan was quite enough, he bade the remaining nine ladies sit at the table with him and eat; and when for very shyness they did not eat, he helped them to the choicest morsels until they could not refrain. Even the lady with the fan he fed with tit-bits from his own dish. The way he engaged them with his sparkling wit was a delight to the caliph, who was still watching the progress of his joke from a concealed place. 'Verily,' said he, 'thou art a wag, Abu Hasan.'

When Hasan was fully refreshed with food there was still another delight before him. The chief officer led him into another hall as elegant as the former, and there, when his ladies-in-waiting had bathed his hands in a golden bowl with great ceremony, Abu Hasan seated himself on luxurious cushions and partook of the choicest sweetmeats and fruits, while the Court musicians played a serenade and the Court ladies stood around him fanning him, and responding to his sprightly sallies. Never had he experienced such pleasure; but even greater awaited him.

When dessert was finished he was conducted into yet another hall, where, in the midst of everything the heart of luxury could desire, were set silver flagons filled with sparkling wine, and near them were placed seven golden goblets.

Here also, reposing on soft cushions, were six beautiful damsels, each one of whom could vie with the fairest flower or sit in the place of the moon. Easily enticed to a luxurious divan prepared for him, Abu Hasan seated himself, and, clapping his hands, bade the musicians cease. There was silence. Then, turning to the damsel nearest him, Hasan asked her name.

'Cluster of Pearls,' replied she.

'Then, Cluster of Pearls, fill a goblet with wine and I will drink your health, and may you always shine as now.'

The girl, vastly pleased, handed him the wine, and he drank. And, as the music played, and they whirled about him in the dance, he called one after another at intervals, asked her name, and received wine at her hands.

An hour of delight sped by in this fashion, until at last he came to the sixth and last. 'What is your name?' asked he. 'Coralie,' said she. 'Then, Coralie, give me wine as red as your lips, and with a sparkle like that in your eyes.'

Now the caliph had ordered that a lozenge of benj should be placed in one of the goblets, and this reserved till the last. Accordingly, this was the goblet that Coralie filled; and she handed it to Abu Hasan with sweet words, bidding him forget his exalted degree and drink to the eyes and lips of his humblest slave-girl.

Abu Hasan drank, and, in truth, he forgot everything—even the eyes and lips of the slave-girl—for his head fell forward on his breast and the goblet rolled from his hand. The benj had done its work: he was in a profound slumber.

The caliph, who had enjoyed the whole scene immensely, quickly came out of his hiding-place and ordered Abu Hasan to be dressed again in his own clothes and carried back to his own house and put to bed.

BEHOLD THE REWARD OF THOSE WHO MEDDLE IN OTHER PEOPLE'S AFFAIRS

p. 120

Next morning——

O King, next morning, when Abu Hasan awoke, he sat up and looked about him in the utmost astonishment. What prank was this that he should dream he was awake and in his own home? Faugh! He clapped his hands and called loudly, 'Coralie! Cluster of Pearls! Morning Star! Heart's Delight! Where are you all?'

He called so loudly that his mother came running to him.

'What ails thee, my son?' cried she.

Abu Hasan sat up and looked at her haughtily. 'My good woman,' he said, 'I advise thee to moderate thy tone somewhat if thou wish to have a head left upon thy body. Thy son, indeed I Knowest thou not that I am the Commander of the Faithful. Bow down, woman, or it will go hardly with thee.'

His mother knew not what to say, but it was clear he had lost his reason. Thinking to divert his mind, she told him about the thousand pieces of gold and the punishment of the imam.

'Ha! that is so,' cried he. 'It was by my order these things were done. I tell you I am the caliph of Baghdad, and I will soon teach you how to behave towards the Prince of the Faithful.'

With this he arose in wrath, and, seizing a cane, thrashed his mother severely—whack! whack! whack! until her screams brought the neighbours running in. And as soon as they learnt how matters were they said among themselves, 'He is mad!' So they fell upon him and bound him, and took him off to the mad-house.

A mad man then was Abu Hasan. Every day he received fifty strokes to remind him that he was not the Lord of all Creatures, until at last he was fain to admit that since these things must be done by order of the caliph, it was not within reason that the caliph should punish the Prince of the Faithful, or that the Lord of all Creatures should fall upon himself in so grievous a fashion. At last, one day he confessed his error to his mother, and it gave her as much joy as if she had brought him into the world for the second time. 'I have had an evil dream,' he said, 'a dream so real that verily it must have been the work of wizardry. Ha! I see it now—that accurséd merchant that supped with me. It was he and none other. But the thousand pieces of gold! The imam! Nay, it was no dream, but the most devilish enchantment.'

But as he now confessed that he was not the caliph, his mother easily procured his release and took him home. Under her tender care he soon regained his strength, and at length began to resume his former habits. Again he repaired in the evenings to the end of the bridge and waylaid some stranger whom he invited to sup with him. Some weeks had elapsed when one evening, while he was waiting in his usual place, he saw the merchant from Moussul approaching, attended by his slave. 'By Allah!' said he in great agitation, 'here comes that vile magician!'

The caliph walked straight up to him and cried, 'Ho, brother! Is it thou? I am delighted! Permit me to embrace thee.'

'Not so fast,' returned Abu Hasan coldly. 'I care not for thee nor thy embraces. Be off about thy business, accursed of God!'

'What hast thou then suffered at my hands?' asked the caliph. 'Is it that I forgot your oath through pleasure at seeing you once more? I am deeply sorry.'

'Nay, nay; it is not that, O master of fiends! Thou didst enchant me and hand me over to fiends, and now thou comest to make sport of my sufferings. Begone! I like thee not.'

'Brother!' replied the caliph with extreme courtesy, 'thou art surely in error. Yet perchance it was my fault, for now I do remember that when I left you that night I neglected to close the door, and methinks the evil one entered to thee after I had gone.' And, by cunning arguments and the most courteous protestations of affection, the caliph succeeded in convincing Hasan that he had no hand in such devilries, and in the end Hasan realised that he had done the stranger so great an injustice that he set aside his oath for once and invited him again to his house.

And as it fell out before, so it befell again. A second time the caliph employed the benj, and a second time Hasan awoke in the morning to find himself upon the royal couch surrounded by the attendants of the Court. His first call was for his mother, but a slave-girl struck a lute near by and answered, 'O Prince of the Faithful! we are here to do thy bidding.'

Abu Hasan looked about him completely dazed. If he was one day Abu Hasan and another day the caliph, who was he when he was at home? The problem was insoluble. He tried to solve it by commanding the chief memluk to bite his ear to see if he was really awake. Then, as the memluk's teeth met through the flesh of the lobe, Abu Hasan shrieked aloud, and the caliph, hidden in a recess near by, fell to his knees with suppressed laughter.

'Verily, I am awake,' cried Abu Hasan, rising in fury, 'but this is the work of the evil one. O Abandoned of God! Back to your infernal abodes! I will have none of you.' And he hurled at them the most holy passages of the Koran ordained for the casting out of devils. At this the caliph, unable to endure it further, came forth, laughing as he had never laughed before. He cried, holding his sides, 'Stop! for Allah's sake, stop! or it will be the death of me!'

Then Abu Hasan stood aghast. He recognised the merchant of Moussul, and also, for the first time, he recognised Harun-er-Rashid, the caliph of Baghdad, the mighty descendant of the House of Abbas. He saw it all now, and humbly made obeisance, praying that the Lord of all Creatures might live for ever.

'Rise, Abu Hasan the Wag!' said the caliph, 'and the peace of Allah be with thee.'

Abu Hasan the Wag! What a history was his! He rose in favour with the caliph, who ceased not to shower gifts upon him. And a time came when the caliph and the Queen Zobeide conspired together to marry him to one of the loveliest women of the Court. These two thereafter lived in the palace, under the caliph's smile, in perfect happiness, tasting every delight until, in the end, when the last cup of joy was quaffed, the Great Gleaner, who gleans alike in palaces and in the humblest dwellings, came to gather them home.