Tales from the Arabic/Story of the Singer and the Druggist

by Unknown

STORY OF THE SINGER AND THE DRUGGIST.

There was once in the city of Hemadan^[1] a young man of comely aspect and excellently skilled in singing to the lute, and he was well seen of the people of the city. He went forth one day of his city, with intent to travel, and gave not over journeying till his travel brought him to a goodly city. Now he had with him a lute and what pertained thereto,^[2] so he entered and went round about the city till he fell in with a druggist, who, when he espied him, called to him. So he went up to him and he bade him sit down. Accordingly, he sat down by him and the druggist questioned him of his case. The singer told him what was in his mind and the other took him up into his shop and brought him food and fed him. Then said he to him, ‘Arise and take up thy lute and beg about the streets, and whenas thou smellest the odour of wine, break in upon the drinkers and say to them, “I am a singer.” They will laugh and say, “Come, [sing] to us.” And when thou singest, the folk will know thee and bespeak one another of thee; so shall thou become known in the city and thine affairs will prosper.’

So he went round about, as the druggist bade him, till the sun grew hot, but found none drinking. Then he entered a by-street, that he might rest himself, and seeing there a handsome and lofty house, stood in its shade and fell to observing the goodliness of its ordinance. As he was thus engaged, behold, a window opened and there appeared thereat a face, as it were the moon. Quoth she,^[3] ‘What aileth thee to stand there? Dost thou want aught?’ And he answered, ‘I am a stranger,’ and acquainted her with his case; whereupon quoth she, ‘What sayst thou to meat and drink and the enjoyment of a fair-face[d one] and getting thee what thou mayst spend?’ ‘O my lady,’ answered he, ‘this is my desire and that in quest whereof I am going about.’

So she opened the door to him and brought him in. Then she seated him at the upper end of the room and set food before him. So he ate and drank and lay with her and swived her. Then she sat down in his lap and they toyed and laughed and kissed till the day was half spent, when her husband came home and she could find nothing for it but to hide the singer in a rug, in which she rolled him up. The husband entered and seeing the place disordered^[4] and smelling the odour of wine, questioned her of this. Quoth she, ‘I had with me a friend of mine and I conjured her [to drink with me]; so we drank a jar [of wine], she and I, and she went away but now, before thy coming in.’ Her husband, (who was none other than the singer’s friend the druggist, that had invited him and fed him), deemed her words true and went away to his shop, whereupon the singer came forth and he and the lady returned to their sport and abode on this wise till eventide, when she gave him money and said to him, ‘Come hither to-morrow in the forenoon.’ ‘It is well,’ answered he and departed; and at nightfall he went to the bath.

On the morrow, he betook himself to the shop of his friend the druggist, who welcomed him and questioned him of his case and how he had fared that day. Quoth the singer, ‘May God requite thee with good, O my brother! For that thou hast directed me unto easance!’ And he related to him his adventure with the woman, till he came to the mention of her husband, when he said, ‘And at midday came the cuckold her husband and knocked at the door. So she wrapped me in the mat, and when he had gone about his business, I came forth and we returned to what we were about.’ This was grievous to the druggist and he repented of having taught him [how he should do] and misdoubted of his wife. So he said to the singer, ‘And what said she to thee at thy going away?’ And the other answered, ‘She bade me come back to her on the morrow. So, behold, I am going to her and I came not hither but that I might acquaint thee with this, lest thy heart be occupied with me.’ Then he took leave of him and went his way. As soon as the druggist was assured that he had reached the house, he cast the net over his shop^[5] and made for his house, misdoubting of his wife, and knocked at the door.

Now the singer had entered and the druggist’s wife said to him, ‘Arise, enter this chest.’ So he entered it and she shut the lid on him and opened to her husband, who came in, in a state of bewilderment, and searched the house, but found none and overlooked the chest. So he said in himself, ‘The house [of which the singer spoke] is one which resembleth my house and the woman is one who resembles my wife,’ and returned to his shop; whereupon the singer came forth of the chest and falling upon the druggist’s wife, did his occasion and paid her her due and weighed down the scale for her.^[6] Then they ate and drank and kissed and clipped, and on this wise they abode till the evening, when she gave him money, for that she found his weaving good,^[7] and made him promise to come to her on the morrow.

So he left her and slept his night and on the morrow he repaired to the shop of his friend the druggist and saluted him. The other welcomed him and questioned him of his case; whereupon he told him how he had fared, till he came to the mention of the woman’s husband, when he said, ‘Then came the cuckold her husband and she clapped me into the chest and shut the lid on me, whilst her addlepated pimp of a husband went round about the house, top and bottom; and when he had gone his way, we returned to what we were about.’ With this, the druggist was certified that the house was his house and the wife his wife, and he said, ‘And what wilt thou do to-day?’ Quoth the singer, ‘I shall return to her and weave for her and full her yarn,^[8] and I came but to thank thee for thy dealing with me.’

Then he went away, whilst the fire was loosed in the heart of the druggist and he shut his shop and betaking himself to his house, knocked at the door. Quoth the singer, ‘Let me get into the chest, for he saw me not yesterday.’ ‘Nay,’ answered she, ‘wrap thyself up in the rug.’ So he wrapped himself up in the rug and stood in a corner of the room, whilst the druggist entered and went straight to the chest, but found it empty. Then he went round about the house and searched it from top to bottom, but found nothing and no one and abode between belief and disbelief, and said in himself, ‘Belike, I suspect my wife of that which is not in her.’ So he was certified of her innocence and returned to his shop, whereupon out came the singer and they abode on their former case, as of wont, till eventide, when she gave him one of her husband’s shirts and he took it and going away, passed the night in his lodging.

On the morrow, he repaired to the druggist, who saluted him and came to meet him and rejoiced in him and smiled in his face, deeming his wife innocent. Then he questioned him of his yesterday’s case and he told him how he had fared, saying, ‘O my brother, when the cuckold knocked at the door, I would have entered the chest; but his wife forbade me and rolled me up in the rug. The man entered and thought of nothing but the chest; so he broke it open and abode as he were a madman, going up and coming down. Then he went his way and I came out and we abode on our wonted case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her husband’s; and behold, I am going to her.’

When the druggist heard the singer’s words, he was certified of the case and knew that the calamity, all of it, was in his own house and that the wife was his wife; and he saw the shirt, whereupon he redoubled in certainty and said to the singer, ‘Art thou now going to her?’ ‘Yes, O my brother,’ answered he and taking leave of him, went away; whereupon the druggist started up, as he were a madman, and ungarnished his shop.^[9] Whilst he was thus engaged, the singer won to the house, and presently up came the druggist and knocked at the door. The singer would have wrapped himself up in the rug, but she forbade him and said to him, ‘Get thee down to the bottom of the house and enter the oven^[10] and shut the lid upon thyself.’ So he did as she bade him and she went down to her husband and opened the door to him, whereupon he entered and went round about the house, but found no one and overlooked the oven. So he stood meditating and swore that he would not go forth of the house till the morrow.

As for the singer, when his [stay in the oven] grew long upon him, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone away. Then he went up to the roof and looking down, beheld his friend the druggist; whereat he was sore concerned and said in himself, ‘Alas, the disgrace of it! This is my friend the druggist, who dealt kindly with me and wrought me fair and I have requited him with foul.’ And he feared to return to the druggist; so he went down and opened the first door and would have gone out; but, when he came to the outer door, he found it locked and saw not the key. So he stole up again to the roof and cast himself down into the [next] house. The people of the house heard him and hastened to him, deeming him a thief. Now the house in question belonged to a Persian; so they laid hands on him and the master of the house began to beat him, saying to him, ‘Thou art a thief.’ ‘Nay,’ answered he, ‘I am no thief, but a singing-man, a stranger. I heard your voices and came to sing to you.’

When the folk heard his words, they talked of letting him go; but the Persian said, ‘O folk, let not his speech beguile you. This fellow is none other than a thief who knoweth how to sing, and when he happeneth on the like of us, he is a singer.’ ‘O our lord,’ answered they, ‘this man is a stranger, and needs must we release him.’ Quoth he, ‘By Allah, my heart revolteth from this fellow! Let me make an end of him with beating.’ But they said, ‘Thou mayst nowise do that.’ So they delivered the singer from the Persian, the master of the house, and seated him amongst them, whereupon he fell to singing to them and they rejoiced in him.

Now the Persian had a mameluke,^[11] as he were the full moon, and he arose [and went out], and the singer followed him and wept before him, professing love to him and kissing his hands and feet. The mameluke took compassion on him and said to him, ‘When the night cometh and my master entereth [the harem] and the folk go away, I will grant thee thy desire; and I lie in such a place.’ Then the singer returned and sat with the boon-companions, and the Persian rose and went out, he and the mameluke beside him. [Then they returned and sat down.]^[12] Now the singer knew the place that the mameluke occupied at the first of the night; but it befell that he rose from his place and the candle went out. The Persian, who was drunken, fell over on his face, and the singer, supposing him to be the mameluke, said, ‘By Allah, it is good!’ and threw himself upon him and clipped him, whereupon the Persian started up, crying out, and laying hands on the singer, pinioned him and beat him grievously, after which he bound him to a tree that was in the house.^[13]

Now there was in the house a fair singing-girl and when she saw the singer pinioned and bound to the tree, she waited till the Persian lay down on his couch, when she arose and going to the singer, fell to condoling with him over what had betided him and ogling him and handling his yard and rubbing it, till it rose on end. Then said she to him, ‘Do thou swive me and I will loose thy bonds, lest he return and beat thee again; for he purposeth thee evil.’ Quoth he, ‘Loose me and I will do.’ But she said, ‘I fear that, [if I loose thee], thou wilt not do. But I will do, and thou standing; and when I have done, I will loose thee.’ So saying, she pulled up her clothes and sitting down on the singer’s yard, fell to going and coming.

Now there was in the house a ram, with which the Persian used to butt, and when he saw what the woman did, he thought she would butt with him; so he broke his halter and running at her, butted her and broke her head. She fell on her back and cried out; whereupon the Persian started up from sleep in haste and seeing the singing-girl [cast down on her back] and the singer with his yard on end, said to the latter, ‘O accursed one, doth not what thou hast already done suffice thee?’ Then he beat him soundly and opening the door, put him out in the middle of the night.

He lay the rest of the night in one of the ruins, and when he arose in the morning, he said, ‘None is to blame. I sought my own good, and he is no fool who seeketh good for himself; and the druggist’s wife also sought good for herself; but destiny overcometh precaution and there remaineth no abiding for me in this town.’ So he went forth from the city.

Return to King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan.

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1. A city of Persian Irak.
2. Lit. its apparatus, i.e. spare strings, etc.?
3. i.e. the woman whose face he saw.
4. Lit. the place of battle, i.e. that where they had lain.
5. A common Eastern fashion of securing a shop, when left for a short time. The word shebekeh (net) may also be tendered a grating or network of iron or other metal.
6. i.e. gave her good measure.
7. i.e. she found him a good workman. Equivoque érotique, apparently founded on the to-and-fro movement of the shuttle in weaving.
8. Equivoque érotique.
9. i.e. removed the goods exposed for sale and laid them up in the inner shop or storehouse.
10. The Eastern oven is generally a great earthenware jar sunken in the earth.
11. i.e. a boughten white slave (memlouk).
12. Apparently changing places. The text is here fearfully corrupt and (as in many other parts of the Breslau Edition) so incoherent as to be almost unintelligible.
13. i.e. in the (inner) courtyard.