The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night/Story of the Enchanted Youth
STORY OF THE ENCHANTED YOUTH.
My father was King of the city that stood in this place, and his name was Mohammed, Lord of the Black Islands, which are no other than the four hills of which thou wottest. He reigned seventy years, at the end of which time God took him to Himself, and I succeeded to his throne and took to wife the daughter of my father’s brother, who loved me with an exceeding love, so that, whenever I was absent from her, she would neither eat nor drink till she saw me again. With her I lived for five years, till one day she went out to go to the bath, and I bade the cook hasten supper for us against her return. Then I entered the palace and lay down on the bed where we were wont to lie and ordered two slave-girls to sit, one at my head and the other at my feet, and fan me. Now I was disturbed at my wife’s absence and could not sleep, but remained awake, although my eyes were closed. Presently I heard the damsel at my head say to the other one, “O Mesoudeh, how unhappy is our lord and how wretched is his youth, and oh, the pity of him with our accursed harlot of a mistress!” “Yes, indeed,” replied Mesoudeh; “may God curse all unfaithful women and adulteresses! Indeed, it befits not that the like of our lord should waste his youth with this harlot, who lies abroad every night.” Quoth the other, “Is our lord then a fool, that, when he wakes in the night and finds her not by his side, he makes no enquiry after her?” “Out on thee,” rejoined Mesoudeh; “has our lord any knowledge of this or does she leave him any choice? Does she not drug him every night in the cup of drink she gives him before he sleeps, in which she puts henbane? So he sleeps like a dead man and knows nothing of what happens. Then she dresses and scents herself and goes forth and is absent till daybreak, when she returns and burns a perfume under his nose and he awakes.” When I heard the girls’ talk, the light in my eyes became darkness, and I thought the night would never come. Presently, my wife returned from the bath, and they served up supper and we ate and sat awhile drinking and talking as usual. Then she called for my sleeping-draught and gave me the cup: and I feigned to drink it, but made shift to pour it into my bosom and lay down at once and began to snore as if I slept. Then said she, “Sleep out thy night and never rise again! By Allah, I hate thee and I hate thy person; I am sick of thy company and I know not when God will take away thy life!” Then she rose and donned her richest clothes and perfumed herself and girt on my sword and opened the palace gate and went out. I rose and followed her, and she passed through the streets of the city, till she came to the gate, when she muttered words I understood not: and straight-way the locks fell off and the gate opened. She went forth and fared on among the rubbish heaps, I still following her without her knowledge, till she came to a reed fence, within which was a hut of brick. She entered the hut and I climbed up on the roof and looking down, saw my wife standing by a scurvy black slave, with blubber lips, one of which overlapped the other, like a coverlet, and swept up the sand from the gravel floor, lying upon a bed of sugar-cane refuse and wrapped in an old cloak and a few rags. She kissed the earth before him, and he raised his head to her and said, “Out on thee! why hast thou tarried till now? There have been some of my kinsmen the blacks here, drinking; and they have gone away, each with his wench; but I refused to drink on account of thine absence.” “O my lord and my love and solace of my eyes,” answered she, “dost thou not know that I am married to my cousin, and that I hate to look upon him and abhor myself in his company. Did I not fear for thy sake, I would not let the sun rise again till his city was a heap of ruins wherein the owl and the raven should hoot and wolves and foxes harbour; and I would transport its stones behind the mountain Caf.”[1] “Thou liest, O accursed one!” said the black, “and I swear by the valour of the blacks (else may our manhood be as that of the whites!) that if thou tarry again till this hour, I will no longer keep thee company nor join my body to thine! O accursed one, wilt thou play fast and loose with us at thy pleasure, O stinkard, O bitch, O vilest of whites?” When I heard and saw what passed between them, the world grew dark in my eyes and I knew not where I was; whilst my wife stood weeping and humbling herself to him and saying, “O my love and fruit of my heart, if thou be angry with me, who is left me, and if thou reject me, who shall shelter me, O my beloved and light of mine eyes?” And she ceased not to weep and implore him till he forgave her. Then she was glad and rose and putting off her clothes, said to the slave, “O my lord, hast thou aught here for thy handmaid to eat?” “Take the cover off yonder basin,” answered he; “thou wilt find under it cooked rats’ bones, and there is a little millet beer left in this pot. Eat and drink.” So she ate and drank and washed her hands and mouth; then lay down, naked, upon the rushes, beside the slave, and covered herself with the rags. When I saw this, I became as one distraught and coming down from the roof, went in by the door. Then I took the sword she had brought and drew it, thinking to kill them both. I struck first at the slave’s neck and thought I had made an end of him; but the blow only severed the flesh and the gullet, without dividing the jugulars.Night viii. He gave a loud gurgling groan and roused my wife, whereupon I drew back, after I had restored the sword to its place, and resuming to the palace, lay down on my bed till morning, when my wife came and awoke me, and I saw that she had cut off her hair and put on mourning garments. “O my cousin,” said she, “do not blame me for this I have done; for I have news that my mother is dead, that my father has fallen in battle and that both my brothers are dead also, one of a snake-bite and the other of a fall from a precipice, so that I have good reason to weep and lament.” When I heard this, I did not reproach her, but said to her, “Do what thou wilt: I will not baulk thee.” She ceased not to mourn and lament for a whole year, at the end of which time she said to me, “I wish to build me in thy palace a tomb with a cupola and set it apart for mourning and call it House of Lamentations.” Quoth I, “Do what seemeth good to thee.” So she built herself a house of mourning, roofed with a dome, and a monument in the midst like the tomb of a saint. Thither she transported the slave and lodged him in the tomb. He was exceeding weak and from the day I wounded him he had remained unable to do her any service or to speak or do aught but drink; but he was still alive, because his hour was not yet come. She used to visit him morning and evening in the mausoleum and carry him wine and broths to drink and weep and make moan over him; and thus she did for another year, whilst I ceased not to have patience with her and pay no heed to her doings, till one day I came upon her unawares and found her weeping and saying, “Why art thou absent from my sight, O delight of my heart? Speak to me, O my life! speak to me, O my love!” And she recited the following verses:
My patience fails me for desire: if thou forgettest me, My heart and all my soul can love none other after thee.
Carry me with thee, body and soul, wherever thou dost fare, And where thou lightest down to rest, there let me buried be.
Speak but my name above my tomb; the groaning of my bones, Turning towards thy voice’s sound, shall answer drearily.
And she wept and recited the following:
My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me; And that whereon thou turn’st away, my day of death and fear.
What though I tremble all the night and be in dread of death, Yet thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.
And again the following:
Though unto me were given all that can make life sweet, Though the Chosroës’ empire, yea, and the world were mine,
All were to me in value less than a midge’s wing, If that mine eyes must never look on that face of thine!
When she had finished, I said to her, “O my cousin, let thy mourning suffice thee: for weeping profiteth nothing.” She replied, “Thwart me not, or I will kill myself.” So I held my peace and let her go her way: and she ceased not to mourn and weep for the space of another year. At the end of the third year, I came into the mausoleum one day, vexed at something that had crossed me and weary of this excessive affliction, and found her by the tomb under the dome, saying, “O my lord, I never hear thee speak to me, no, not one word. Why dost thou not answer me, O my lord?” And she recited the following verses:
O tomb, O tomb, have his beauties ceased, or does thy light indeed, The sheen of the radiant countenance, no more in thee abound?
O tomb, O tomb, thou art neither earth nor heaven unto me: How comes it then that sun and moon at once in thee are found?
When I heard this, it added wrath to my wrath, and I said, “Alas! how much more of this mourning?” and I repeated the following [parody of her] verses:
O tomb, O tomb, has his blackness ceased, or does thy light indeed, The sheen of the filthy countenance, no more in thee abound?
O tomb, thou art neither kitchen-stove nor sewer-pool for me! How comes it then that mire and coal at once in thee are found?
When she heard this, she sprang to her feet and said, “Out on thee, thou dog! it was thou that didst thus with me and woundedst the beloved of my heart and hast afflicted me and wasted his youth, so that these three years he hath lain, neither dead nor alive!” “O foulest of harlots and filthiest of whorish doxies of hired slaves,” answered I, “it was indeed I who did this!” And I drew my sword and made at her to kill her; but she laughed and said, “Avaunt, thou dog! Thinkst thou that what is past can recur or the dead come back to life? Verily, God has given into my hand him who did this to me and against whom there was in my heart fire that might not be quenched and insatiable rage.” Then she stood up and pronouncing some words I did not understand, said to me, “Let one half of thee by my enchantments become stone and the other half remain man.” And immediately I became as thou seest me and have remained ever since neither sitting nor standing and neither dead nor alive. Then she enchanted the city with all its streets and gardens and turned it into the lake thou wottest of, and the inhabitants, who were of four religions, Muslims, Christians, Magians and Jews, she changed to fish of various colours, the Muslims white, the Christians blue, the Magians red and the Jews yellow; and the four islands she turned into four mountains encompassing the lake. Moreover, the condition to which she has reduced me does not suffice her: but every day she strips me and gives me a hundred lashes with a whip, so that the blood runs down me and my shoulders are torn. Then she clothes my upper half in a shirt of hair-cloth and over that she throws these rich robes.’
Return to The Fisherman and the Genie.
- ↑ A fabulous range of mountains which, according to Muslim cosmography, encompasses the world.