Book: The Arabian Nights Entertainments

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[Illustration: _The genie immediately returned with a tray bearing
dishes of the most delicious viands. Page 168._]




THE WINDERMERE SERIES



The Arabian Nights
Entertainments



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

MILO WINTER





RAND McNALLY & COMPANY

CHICAGO NEW YORK





_Copyright, 1914, by_

RAND McNALLY & COMPANY

* * * * *




THE INTRODUCTION


The _Arabian Nights_ was introduced to Europe in a French translation
by Antoine Galland in 1704, and rapidly attained a unique popularity.
There are even accounts of the translator being roused from sleep by
bands of young men under his windows in Paris, importuning him to tell
them another story.

The learned world at first refused to believe that M. Galland had not
invented the tales. But he had really discovered an Arabic manuscript
from sixteenth-century Egypt, and had consulted Oriental
story-tellers. In spite of inaccuracies and loss of color, his twelve
volumes long remained classic in France, and formed the basis of our
popular translations.

A more accurate version, corrected from the Arabic, with a style
admirably direct, easy, and simple, was published by Dr. Jonathan
Scott in 1811. This is the text of the present edition.

The Moslems delight in stories, but are generally ashamed to show a
literary interest in fiction. Hence the world's most delightful story
book has come to us with but scant indications of its origin. Critical
scholarship, however, has been able to reach fairly definite
conclusions.

The reader will be interested to trace out for himself the
similarities in the adventures of the two Persian queens,
Schehera-zade, and Esther of Bible story, which M. de Goeje has
pointed out as indicating their original identity (_Encyclopaedia
Britannica_, "Thousand and One Nights"). There are two or three
references in tenth-century Arabic literature to a Persian collection
of tales, called _The Thousand Nights_, by the fascination of which
the lady Schehera-zade kept winning one more day's lease of life. A
good many of the tales as we have them contain elements clearly
indicating Persian or Hindu origin. But most of the stories, even
those with scenes laid in Persia or India, are thoroughly Mohammedan
in thought, feeling, situation, and action.

The favorite scene is "the glorious city," ninth-century Bagdad, whose
caliph, Haroun al Raschid, though a great king, and heir of still
mightier men, is known to fame chiefly by the favor of these tales.
But the contents (with due regard to the possibility of later
insertions), references in other writings, and the dialect show that
our _Arabian Nights_ took form in Egypt very soon after the year 1450.
The author, doubtless a professional teller of stories, was, like his
Schehera-zade, a person of extensive reading and faultless memory,
fluent of speech, and ready on occasion to drop into poetry. The
coarseness of the Arabic narrative, which does not appear in our
translation, is characteristic of Egyptian society under the Mameluke
sultans. It would have been tolerated by the subjects of the caliph in
old Bagdad no more than by modern Christians.

More fascinating stories were never told. Though the oath of an
Oriental was of all things the most sacred, and though Schah-riar had
"bound himself by a solemn vow to marry a new wife every night, and
command her to be strangled in the morning," we well believe that he
forswore himself, and granted his bride a stay of execution until he
could find out why the ten polite young gentlemen, all blind of the
right eye, "having blackened themselves, wept and lamented, beating
their heads and breasts, and crying continually, 'This is the fruit of
our idleness and curiosity.'" To be sure, when the golden door has
been opened, and the black horse has vanished with that vicious switch
of his tail, we have a little feeling of having been "sold,"--a
feeling which great art never gives. But we are in the best of humor;
for were we not warned all along against just this foible of
curiosity, and is not the story-teller smiling inscrutably and
advising us to be thankful that we at least still have our two good
eyes?

Beside the story interest, the life and movement of the tales, the
spirits that enter and set their own precedents, there is for us the
charm of mingling with men so different from ourselves: men
adventurous but never strenuous, men of many tribulations but no
perplexities. Fantastic, magnificent, extravagant, beautiful,
gloriously colored, humorous--was ever book of such infinite
contrasts?

* * * * *




THE CONTENTS


THE SULTAN AND HIS VOW

THE STORY OF THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE

THE THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF KINGS, AND THE FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD

THE STORY OF THE THREE SISTERS

THE STORY OF ALADDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL LAMP

THE HISTORY OF ALI BABA, AND OF THE FORTY ROBBERS KILLED BY ONE SLAVE

THE STORY OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR


[Illustration]

* * * * *




THE ILLUSTRATIONS


_The genie immediately returned with a tray bearing dishes of
the most delicious viands_ Frontispiece

_He had the gift of understanding the language of beasts_

_He was chained to the spot by the pleasure of beholding three such
beauties_

_These ladies vied with each other in their eager solicitude to do me
all possible service_

_The gardener, with the rake which he had in his hand, drew the basket to
the side of the canal_

_He presently discovered a gold box, about a foot square, which he gave
into the princess's hands_

_She drew the poniard, and, holding it in her hand, began a dance_

_Having balanced my cargo exactly, and fastened it well to the raft,
I went on board with the two oars I had made_

[Illustration]

* * * * *




THE ARABIAN NIGHTS

THE SULTAN AND HIS VOW


It is written in the chronicles of the Sassanian monarchs that there
once lived an illustrious prince, beloved by his own subjects for his
wisdom and his prudence, and feared by his enemies for his courage and
for the hardy and well-disciplined army of which he was the leader.
This prince had two sons, the elder called Schah-riar, and the younger
Schah-zenan, both equally good and deserving of praise.

When the old king died at the end of a long and glorious reign,
Schah-riar, his eldest son, ascended the throne and reigned in his
stead. Schah-zenan, however, was not in the least envious, and a
friendly contest soon arose between the two brothers as to which could
best promote the happiness of the other. Schah-zenan did all he could
to show his loyalty and affection, while the new sultan loaded his
brother with all possible honors, and in order that he might in some
degree share the sultan's power and wealth, bestowed on him the
kingdom of Great Tartary. Schah-zenan immediately went to take
possession of the empire allotted him, and fixed his residence at
Samarcand, the chief city.

After a separation of ten years Schah-riar so ardently desired to see
his brother, that he sent his first vizier,[1] with a splendid
embassy, to invite him to revisit his court. As soon as Schah-zenan
was informed of the approach of the vizier, he went out to meet him,
with all his ministers, in most magnificent dress, and inquired after
the health of the sultan, his brother. Having replied to these
affectionate inquiries, the vizier told the purpose of his coming.
Schah-zenan, who was much affected at the kindness and recollection of
his brother, then addressed the vizier in these words: "Sage vizier,
the sultan, my brother, does me too much honor. It is impossible that
his wish to see me can exceed my desire of again beholding him. You
have come at a happy moment. My kingdom is tranquil, and in ten days'
time I will be ready to depart with you. Meanwhile pitch your tents on
this spot, and I will order every refreshment and accommodation for
you and your whole train."

[Footnote 1: Vazir, Vezir--literally, a porter, that is, the minister
who bears the principal burden of the state.--D'Herbelot,
_Bibliotheque Orientale._]

At the end of ten days everything was ready, and Schah-zenan took a
tender leave of the queen, his consort. Accompanied by such officers
as he had appointed to attend him, he left Samarcand in the evening
and camped near the tents of his brother's ambassador, that they might
proceed on their journey early the following morning. Wishing,
however, once more to see his queen, whom he tenderly loved, he
returned privately to the palace, and went directly to her apartment.
There, to his extreme grief, he found her in the company of a slave
whom she plainly loved better than himself. Yielding to the first
outburst of his indignation, the unfortunate monarch drew his
scimitar, and with one rapid stroke slew them both.

He then went from the city as privately as he had entered it, and
returned to his pavilion. Not a word did he say to any one of what
had happened. At dawn he ordered the tents to be struck, and the party
set forth on their journey to the sound of drums and other musical
instruments. The whole train was filled with joy, except the king, who
could think of nothing but his queen, and he was a prey to the deepest
grief and melancholy during the whole journey.

When he approached the capital of Persia he perceived the Sultan
Schah-riar and all his court coming out to greet him. As soon as the
parties met the two brothers alighted and embraced each other; and
after a thousand expressions of regard, remounted and entered the city
amid the shouts of the multitude. The sultan there conducted the king
his brother to a palace which had been prepared for him. This palace
communicated by a garden with the sultan's own and was even more
magnificent, as it was the spot where all the fetes and splendid
entertainments of the court were given.

Schah-riar left the King of Tartary in order that he might bathe and
change his dress; but immediately on his return from the bath went to
him again. They seated themselves on a sofa, and conversed till supper
time. After so long a separation they seemed even more united by
affection than by blood. They ate supper together, and then continued
their conversation till Schah-riar, perceiving the night far advanced,
left his brother to repose.

The unfortunate Schah-zenan retired to his couch; but if in the
presence of the sultan he had for a while forgotten his grief, it now
returned with doubled force. Every circumstance of the queen's death
arose to his mind and kept him awake, and left such a look of sorrow
on his face that next morning the sultan could not fail to notice it.
He did all in his power to show his continued love and affection, and
sought to amuse his brother with the most splendid entertainments, but
the gayest fetes served only to increase Schah-zenan's melancholy.

One morning when Schah-riar had given orders for a grand hunting party
at the distance of two days' journey from the city, Schah-zenan
requested permission to remain in his palace on account of a slight
illness. The sultan, wishing to please him, consented, but he himself
went with all his court to partake of the sport.

The King of Tartary was no sooner alone than he shut himself up in his
apartment, and gave way to his sorrow. But as he sat thus grieving at
the open window, looking out upon the beautiful garden of the palace,
he suddenly saw the sultana, the beloved wife of his brother, meet a
man in the garden with whom she held an affectionate conversation.
Upon witnessing this interview, Schah-zenan determined that he would
no longer give way to such inconsolable grief for a misfortune which
came to other husbands as well as to himself. He ordered supper to be
brought, and ate with a better appetite than he had before done since
leaving Samarcand. He even enjoyed the fine concert performed while he
sat at table.

Schah-riar returned from the hunt at the close of the second day, and
was delighted at the change which he soon found had taken place in his
brother. He urged him to explain the cause of his former depression
and of his present joy. The King of Tartary, feeling it his duty to
obey his suzerain lord, related the story of his wife's misconduct,
and of the severe punishment which he had visited on her. Schah-riar
expressed his full approval of his brother's conduct.

"I own," he said, "had I been in your place I should have been less
easily satisfied. I should not have been contented to take away the
life of one woman, but should have sacrificed a thousand to my
resentment. Your fate, surely, is most singular. Since, however, it
has pleased God to afford you consolation, which, I am sure, is as
well founded as was your grief, inform me, I beg, of that also."

Schah-zenan was very reluctant to relate what he had seen, but at last
yielded to the urgent commands and entreaties of his brother, and told
him of the faithlessness of his own queen.

At this unexpected news, the rage and grief of Schah-riar knew no
bounds. He far exceeded his brother in his invectives and indignation.
Not only did he sentence to death his unhappy sultana but bound
himself by a solemn vow that, immediately on the departure of the king
his brother, he would marry a new wife every night, and command her to
be strangled in the morning. Schah-zenan soon after had a solemn
audience of leave, and returned to his own kingdom, laden with the
most magnificent presents.

When Schah-zenan was gone the sultan began to carry out his unhappy
oath. Every night he married the daughter of some one of his subjects,
and the next morning she was ordered out and put to death. It was the
duty of the grand vizier to execute these commands of the sultan's,
and revolting as they were to him, he was obliged to submit or lose
his own head. The report of this unexampled inhumanity spread a panic
of consternation throughout the city. Instead of the praises and
blessings with which, until now, they had loaded their monarch, all
his subjects poured out curses on his head.

The grand vizier had two daughters, the elder of whom was called
Schehera-zade, and the younger Dinar-zade. Schehera-zade was possessed
of a remarkable degree of courage. She had read much, and had so good
a memory that she never forgot anything she had once read or heard.
Her beauty was equaled only by her virtuous disposition. The vizier
was passionately fond of her.

One day as they were talking together, she made the astonishing
request that she might have the honor of becoming the sultan's bride.
The grand vizier was horrified, and tried to dissuade her. He pointed
out the fearful penalty attached to the favor she sought.
Schehera-zade, however, persisted, telling her father she had in mind
a plan which she thought might put a stop to the sultan's dreadful
cruelty.

"I am aware of the danger I run, my father," she said, "but it does
not deter me from my purpose. If I die, my death will be glorious; if
I succeed, I shall render my country an important service."

Still the vizier was most reluctant to allow his beloved child to
enter on so dangerous an enterprise, and attempted to turn her from
her purpose by telling her the following story:


THE FABLE OF THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE LABORER

A very rich merchant had several farmhouses in the country, where he
bred every kind of cattle. This merchant understood the language of
beasts. He obtained this privilege on the condition of not imparting
to any one what he heard, under penalty of death.

By chance[2] he had put an ox and an ass into the same stall; and
being seated near them, he heard the ox say to the ass: "How happy do
I think your lot. A servant looks after you with great care, washes
you, feeds you with fine sifted barley, and gives you fresh and clean
water; your greatest task is to carry the merchant, our master. My
condition is as unfortunate as yours is pleasant. They yoke me to a
plow the whole day, while the laborer urges me on with his goad. The
weight and force of the plow, too, chafes all the skin from my neck.
When I have worked from morning till night, they give me unwholesome
and uninviting food. Have I not, then, reason to envy your lot?"

[Footnote 2: The ass and the ox in the East were subject to very
different treatment; the one was strong to labor, and was little cared
for--the other was reserved for princes and judges to ride on, and was
tended with the utmost attention.]

When he had finished, the ass replied in these words: "Believe me,
they would not treat you thus if you possessed as much courage as
strength. When they come to tie you to the manger, what resistance,
pray, do you ever make? Do you ever push them with your horns? Do you
ever show your anger by stamping on the ground with your feet? Why
don't you terrify them with your bellowing? Nature has given you the
means of making yourself respected, and yet you neglect to use them.
They bring you bad beans and chaff. Well, do not eat them; smell at
them only and leave them. Thus, if you follow my plans, you will soon
perceive a change, which you will thank me for."

The ox took the advice of the ass very kindly, and declared himself
much obliged to him.

Early the next morning the laborer came for the ox, and yoked him to
the plow, and set him to work as usual. The latter, who had not
forgotten the advice he had received, was very unruly the whole day;
and at night, when the laborer attempted to fasten him to the stall,
he ran bellowing back, and put down his horns to strike him; in short,
he did exactly as the ass had advised him.

On the next morning, when the man came, he found the manger still full
of beans and chaff, and the ox lying on the ground with his legs
stretched out, and making a strange groaning. The laborer thought him
very ill, and that it would be useless to take him to work; he,
therefore, immediately went and informed the merchant.

The latter perceived that the bad advice of the ass had been followed;
and he told the laborer to go and take the ass instead of the ox, and
not fail to give him plenty of exercise. The man obeyed; and the ass
was obliged to drag the plow the whole day, which tired him the more
because he was unaccustomed to it; besides which, he was so beaten
that he could scarcely support himself when he came back, and fell
down in his stall half dead.

* * * * *

Here the grand vizier said to Schehera-zade: "You are, my child, just
like this ass, and would expose yourself to destruction."

"Sir," replied Schehera-zade, "the example which you have brought does
not alter my resolution, and I shall not cease importuning you till
I have obtained from you the favor of presenting me to the sultan as
his consort."

[Illustration: _He had the gift of understanding the language of
beasts Page 15_]

The vizier, finding her persistent in her request, said, "Well then,
since you will remain thus obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you
as the rich merchant I mentioned did his wife."

Being told in what a miserable state the ass was, he was curious to
know what passed between him and the ox. After supper, therefore, he
went out by moonlight, accompanied by his wife, and sat down near
them; on his arrival, he heard the ass say to the ox, "Tell me,
brother, what you mean to do when the laborer brings you food
to-morrow!"

"Mean to do!" replied the ox. "Why, what you taught me, to be sure."

"Take care," interrupted the ass, "what you are about, lest you
destroy yourself; for in coming home yesterday evening, I heard our
master say these sad words: 'Since the ox can neither eat nor support
himself, I wish him to be killed to-morrow; do not, therefore, fail to
send for the butcher.' This is what I heard; and the interest I take
in your safety, and the friendship I have for you, induces me to
mention it. When they bring you beans and chaff, get up, and begin
eating directly. Our master, by this, will suppose that you have
recovered, and will, without doubt, revoke the sentence for your
death; in my opinion, if you act otherwise, it is all over with you."

This speech produced the intended effect; the ox was much troubled,
and lowed with fear. The merchant, who had listened to everything with
great attention, burst into a fit of laughter that quite surprised
his wife.

"Tell me," said she, "what you laugh at, that I may join in it. I wish
to know the cause."

"That satisfaction," replied the husband, "I cannot afford you. I can
only tell you that I laughed at what the ass said to the ox; the rest
is a secret, which I must not reveal."

"And why not?" asked his wife.

"Because, if I tell you, it will cost me my life."

"You trifle with me," added she; "this can never be true; and if you
do not immediately inform me what you laughed at, I swear by Allah
that we will live together no longer."

In saying this, she went back to the house in a pet, shut herself up,
and cried the whole night. Her husband, finding that she continued in
the same state all the next day, said, "How foolish it is to afflict
yourself in this way! Do I not seriously tell you, that if I were to
yield to your foolish importunities, it would cost me my life?"

"Whatever happens rests with Allah," said she; "but I shall not alter
my mind."

"I see very plainly," answered the merchant, "it it not possible to
make you submit to reason, and that your obstinacy will kill you."

He then sent for the parents and other relations of his wife; when
they were all assembled, he explained to them his motives for calling
them together, and requested them to use all their influence with his
wife, and endeavor to convince her of the folly of her conduct. She
rejected them all, and said she had rather die than give up this
point to her husband. When her children saw that nothing could alter
her resolution, they began to lament most bitterly--the merchant
himself knew not what to do.

A little while afterward he was sitting by chance at the door of his
house, considering whether he should not even sacrifice himself in
order to save his wife, whom he so tenderly loved, when he saw his
favorite dog run up to the cock in the farmyard, and tell him all the
circumstances of the painful situation in which he was placed. Upon
which the cock said, "How foolish must our master be. He has but one
wife, and cannot gain his point, while I have fifty, and do just as I
please. Let him take a good-sized stick, and not scruple to use it,
and she will soon know better, and not worry him to reveal what he
ought to keep secret."

The merchant at once did as he suggested, on which his wife quickly
repented of her ill-timed curiosity, and all her family came in,
heartily glad at finding her more rational and submissive to her
husband.

* * * * *

"You deserve, my daughter," added the grand vizier, "to be treated
like the merchant's wife."

"Do not, sir," answered Schehera-zade, "think ill of me if I still
persist in my sentiments. The history of this woman does not shake my
resolution. I could recount, on the other hand, many good reasons
which ought to persuade you not to oppose my design. Pardon me, too,
if I add that your opposition will be useless; for if your paternal
tenderness should refuse the request I make, I will present myself to
the sultan."

At length the vizier, overcome by his daughter's firmness, yielded to
her entreaties; and although he was very sorry at not being able to
conquer her resolution, he immediately went to Schah-riar, and
announced to him that Schehera-zade herself would be his bride on the
following night.

The sultan was much astonished at the sacrifice of the grand vizier.
"Is it possible," said he, "that you can give up your own child?"

"Sire," replied the vizier, "she has herself made the offer. The
dreadful fate that hangs over her does not alarm her; and she resigns
her life for the honor of being the consort of your majesty, though it
be but for one night."

"Vizier," said the sultan, "do not deceive yourself with any hopes;
for be assured that, in delivering Schehera-zade into your charge
to-morrow, it will be with an order for her death; and if you disobey,
your own head will be the forfeit."

"Although," answered the vizier, "I am her father, I will answer for
the fidelity of this arm in fulfilling your commands."

When the grand vizier returned to Schehera-zade, she thanked her
father; and observing him to be much afflicted, consoled him by saying
that she hoped he would be so far from repenting her marriage with the
sultan that it would become a subject of joy to him for the remainder
of his life.

Before Schehera-zade went to the palace, she called her sister,
Dinar-zade, aside, and said, "As soon as I shall have presented myself
before the sultan, I shall entreat him to suffer you to sleep in the
bridal chamber, that I may enjoy for the last time your company. If I
obtain this favor, as I expect, remember to awaken me to-morrow
morning an hour before daybreak, and say, 'If you are not asleep, my
sister, I beg of you, till the morning appears, to recount to me one
of those delightful stories you know.' I will immediately begin to
tell one; and I flatter myself that by these means I shall free the
kingdom from the consternation in which it is."

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