Book: Supplemental Nights, Volume 1

R >> Richard F. Burton >> Supplemental Nights, Volume 1







KING SHAH BAKHT AND HIS WAZIR
AL-RAHWAN.[FN#295]



They relate that there was once, in days of yore and in bygone
ages and times long gone before, a king of the kings of the time,
Shah Bakht hight, who had troops and servants and guards in hosts
and a Wazir called Al-Rahwan, who was learned, understanding, a
loyal counsellor and a cheerful acceptor of the commandments of
Almighty Allah, to whom belong Honour and Glory. The king
committed to this Minister the affairs of his kingdom and his
lieges and spake according to his word, and in this way he abode
a long space of time. Now this Wazir had many foes, who envied
his position and sought to do him harm, but thereunto found no
way and the Lord, in His immemorial fore-knowledge and His
fore-ordinance decreed that the king dreamt that the Minister
Al-Rahwan gave him a fruit from off a tree and he ate it and
died. So he awoke, startled and troubled, and when the Wazir had
presented himself before him and had retired and the king was
alone with those in whom he trusted, he related to them his
vision and they advised him to send for the astrologers and
interpreters and commended to him a Sage, whose skill and wisdom
they attested. Accordingly the king bade him be brought and
entreated him with honour and made him draw near to himself. Now
there had been in private intercourse with that Sage a company of
the Wazir's enemies, who besought him to slander the Minister to
the king and counsel him to do him dead, in view of what they
promised him of much wealth; and he made agreement with them on
this and acquainted the king that the Minister would slay him
within the coming month and bade him hasten to put him to death,
else would he surely be killed. Presently, the Wazir entered and
the king signed to him to clear the place. So he signed to those
who were present to withdraw, and they withdrew; whereupon quoth
the king to him, "How deemest thou, O Minister of loyal counsel
in all manner of contrivance, concerning a vision I have seen in
my sleep?" "What is it, O king?" asked the Wazir, and Shah Bakht
related to him his dream, adding, "And indeed the Sage
interpreted it to me and said to me, 'An thou do not the Wazir
dead within a month, assuredly he will slay thee.' Now to put the
like of thee to death, I am loath exceedingly, yet to leave thee
on life do I sorely fear. How then dost thou advise me act in
this affair?" The Wazir bowed his head earthwards awhile, then
raised it and said, "Allah prosper the king! Verily, it availeth
not to continue him on life of whom the king is afraid, and my
counsel is that thou hasten to put me out of the world." When the
king heard his speech and dove into the depths of his meaning, he
turned to him and said, "'Tis grievous to me, O Wazir of good
rede;" and he told him that the other sages had attested the wit
and wisdom of the astrophil. Now hearing these words Al-Rahwan
sighed and knew that the king went in fear of him; but he showed
him fortitude and said to him, "Allah assain the sovran! My rede
is that the king carry out his commandment and his decree be
dight, for that needs must death be and 'tis fainer to me that I
die oppressed, than that I die an oppressor. But, an the king
judge proper to postpone the putting of me to death till the
morrow and will pass this night with me and farewell me whenas
the morning cometh, the king shall do whatso he willeth." Then he
wept tell he wetted his gray hairs and the king was moved to ruth
for him and granted him that which he craved and vouchsafed him a
respite for that night.[FN#296]


The First Night of the Month.

When it was eventide, the king caused clear his sitting chamber
and summoned the Wazir, who presented himself and making his
obeisance to the king, kissed ground before him and related to
him




The Tale of the Man of Khorasan, his Son and his Tutor.



There was once a man of Khorasan and he had a son, whose moral
weal he ardently wished; but the young man sought to be alone and
far from the eye of his father, so he might give himself up to
pleasuring and pleasance. Accordingly he sought of his sire leave
to make the pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah and to visit
the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!). Now
between them and Meccah was a journey of five hundred parasangs;
but his father could not contrary him, for that the Holy Law had
made pilgrimage[FN#297] incumbent on him and because of that
which he hoped for him of improvement. So he joined unto him a
tutor, in whom he trusted, and gave him much money and took leave
of him. The son set out with his governor on the holy
pilgrimage,[FN#298] and abode on the like wise, spending freely
and using not thrift. Also there was in his neighbourhood a poor
man, who had a slave-girl of passing beauty and grace, and the
youth conceived a desire for her and suffered sore cark and care
for the love of her and her loveliness, so that he was like to
perish for passion; and she also loved him with a love yet
greater than his love for her. Accordingly, the damsel summoned
an old woman who used to visit her and acquainted her with her
case, saying, "An I foregather not with him, I shall die." The
crone promised her that she would do her best to bring her to her
desire; so she veiled herself and repairing to the young man,
saluted him with the salam and acquainted him with the girl's
case, saying, "Her master is a greedy wight; so do thou invite
him and lure him with lucre, and he will sell thee the
hand-maiden." Accordingly, he made a banquet, and standing in the
man's way, invited him[FN#299] and brought him to his house,
where they sat down and ate and drank and abode in talk.
Presently, the young man said to the other, "I hear thou hast
with thee a slave-girl, whom thou desirest to sell;" but he said,
"By Allah, O my lord, I have no mind to sell her!" Quoth the
youth, "I have heard that she cost thee a thousand dinars, and I
will give thee six hundred over and above that sum;" and quoth
the other, "I sell her to thee at that price." So they fetched
notaries who wrote out the contract of sale, and the young man
weighed to the girl's master half the purchase money, saying,
"Let her be with thee till I complete to thee the rest of the
price and take my hand-maid." The owner consented to this and
took of him a written bond for the rest of the money, and the
girl abode with her master, on deposit.[FN#300] As for the youth,
he gave his governor a thousand dirhams and sent him to his sire,
to fetch money from him, so he might pay the rest of the
hand-maid's price, saying to him, "Be not long away." But the
tutor said in his mind, "How shall I fare to his father and say
to him, 'Thy son hath wasted thy money and made love with
it?'[FN#301] With what eye shall I look on him and, indeed, I am
he in whom he confided and to whom he hath entrusted his son?
Verily, this were ill rede. Nay, I will fare on with this
pilgrimage-caravan[FN#302] in despite of my fool of a youth; and
when he is weary of waiting, he will demand back his money and
return to his father, and I shall be quit of travail and
trouble." So he went on with the pilgrimage caravan[FN#303] and
took up his abode there.[FN#304] Meanwhile, the youth tarried
expecting his tutor's return, but he returned not; wherefore
concern and chagrin grew upon him because of his mistress, and
his yearning for her redoubled and he was like to kill himself.
She became aware of this and sent him a messenger, bidding him
visit her. Accordingly he went to her, and she questioned him of
the case; when he told her what was to do of the matter of his
tutor, and she said to him, "With me is longing the like of that
which is with thee, and I doubt me thy messenger hath perished or
thy father hath slain him; but I will give thee all my jewellery
and my dresses, and do thou sell them and weigh out the rest of
my price, and we will go, I and thou, to thy sire." So she handed
to him all she had and he sold it and paid the rest of her price;
after which there remained to him for spending-money an hundred
dirhams. These he spent and lay that night with the damsel in all
delight of life, and his sprite was like to fly for joy: but when
he arose in the morning, he sat weeping and the damsel said to
him, "What causeth thee to weep?" Said he, "I know not an my
father be dead, and he hath none other heir save myself; but how
shall I get to him, seeing I own not a dirham?" Quoth she, "I
have a bangle; sell it and buy seed-pearls with the price: then
round them and fashion them into great unions[FN#305] and thereby
thou shalt gain much money, with the which we may find our way to
thy country." So he took the bangle and repairing to a goldsmith,
said to him, "Break up this bracelet and sell it;" but he said,
"The king seeketh a perfect bracelet: I will go to him and bring
thee its price." Presently he bore the bangle to the Sultan and
it pleased him greatly by reason of its goodly workmanship. Then
he called an old woman, who was in his palace, and said to her,
"Needs must I have the mistress of this bracelet though but for a
single night, or I shall die;" and the old woman replied, "I will
bring her to thee." Thereupon she donned a devotee's dress and
betaking herself to the goldsmith, said to him, "To whom
belongeth the bangle which is now with the king?" and said he,
"It belongeth to a stranger, who hath bought him a slave-girl
from this city and lodgeth with her in such a place." Upon this
the old woman repaired to the young man's house and knocked at
the door. The damsel opened to her and seeing her clad in
devotee's garb,[FN#306] saluted her with the salam and asked her
saying, "Haply thou hast some need of us?" Answered the old
woman, "Yes, I desire a private place, where I can perform the
Wuzu-ablution;" and quoth the girl, "Enter." So she entered and
did her requirement and made the ablution and prayed:[FN#307]
then she brought out a rosary and began to tell her beads
thereon, and the damsel said to her, "Whence comest thou, O
pilgrimess?"[FN#308] Said she, "From visiting the Idol of the
Absent in such a church.[FN#309] There standeth up no woman
before him,[FN#310] who hath a distant friend and discloseth to
him her desire, but he acquainteth her with her case and giveth
her news of her absent one." Said the damsel, "O pilgrimess, we
have an absent one, and my lord's heart cleaveth to him and I
desire to go question the Idol of him." Quoth the crone, "Do thou
wait till to-morrow and ask leave of thy spouse, and I will come
to thee and fare with thee in weal and welfare." Then she went
away, and when the girl's master came, she sought his permission
to go with the old trot, and he gave her leave. So the beldame
came and took her and carried her to the king's door, she,
unknowing whither she went. The damsel entered with her and
beheld a goodly house and decorated apartments which were no
idol's chamber. Then came the king and seeing her beauty and
loveliness, went up to her to buss her; whereupon she fell down
in a fainting fit and struck out with her hands and feet.[FN#311]
When he saw this, he held aloof from her in ruth and left her;
but the matter was grievous to her and she refused meat and
drink, and as often as the king drew near to her, she fled from
him in fear, so he swore by Allah that he would not approach her
save with her consent and fell to presenting her with ornaments
and raiment; but her aversion to him only increased. Meanwhile,
the youth her master abode expecting her; but she returned not
and his heart already tasted the bitter draught of separation; so
he went forth at hap-hazard, distracted and knowing not what he
should do, and began strewing dust upon his head and crying out,
"The old woman hath taken her and gone away!" The little boys
followed him with stones and pelted him, crying, "A madman! A
madman!" Presently, the king's Chamberlain, who was a personage
of years and worth, met him, and when he saw this youth, he
forbade the boys and drave them away from him, after which he
accosted him and asked him of his affair. So he told him his tale
and the Chamberlain said to him, "Fear not! I will deliver thy
slavegirl for thee; so calm thy concern." And he went on to speak
him fair and comfort him, till he had firm reliance on his word.
Then he carried him to his home and stripping him of his clothes,
clad him in rags; after which he called an old woman, who was his
housekeeper,[FN#312] and said to her, "Take this youth and bind
on his neck yon iron chain and go round about with him in all the
great thoroughfares of the city, and when thou hast done this, go
up with him to the palace of the king." And he said to the youth,
"In whatsoever stead thou seest the damsel, speak not a syllable,
but acquaint me with her place and thou shalt owe her deliverance
to none save to me." The youth thanked him and went with the old
woman in such fashion as the Chamberlain bade him. She fared on
with him till they entered the city, and walked all about it;
after which she went up to the palace of the king and fell to
saying, "O fortune's favourites, look on a youth whom the devils
take twice in the day and pray to be preserved from such
affliction!" And she ceased not to go round with him till she
came to the eastern wing[FN#313] of the palace, whereupon the
slave-girls hurried out to look upon him and when they saw him
they were amazed at his beauty and loveliness and wept for him.
Then they informed the damsel, who came forth and considered him
and knew him not; but he knew her; so he drooped his head and
shed tears. She was moved to pity for him and gave him somewhat
and went back to her place, whilst the youth returned with the
housekeeper to the Chamberlain and told him that she was in the
king's mansion, whereat he was chagrined and said, "By Allah, I
will assuredly devise a device for her and deliver her!"
Whereupon the youth kissed his hands and feet. Then he turned to
the old woman and bade her change her habit and her semblance.
Now this ancient dame was sweet of speech and winsome of wit; so
he gave her costly and delicious ottars and said to her, "Get
thee to the king's slave-girls and sell them these essences and
win thy way to the damsel and ask her if she desire her master or
not." So the old woman went out and making her way to the palace,
went in to the hand-maid and drew near her and recited these
couplets,

"Allah preserve our Union-days and their delights. * Ah me! How
sweet was life! how joys were ever new!
May he not be who cursed us twain with parting day; * How many a
bone he brake, how many a life he slew!
He shed my faultless tear-floods and my sinless blood; * And
beggaring me of love himself no richer grew."

When the damsel heard the old woman's verses, she wept till her
clothes were drenched and drew near the speaker, who asked her,
"Knowest thou such-an-one?" And she wept and answered, "He is my
lord. Whence knowest thou him?" Rejoined the old woman, "O my
lady, sawest thou not the madman who came hither yesterday with
the old woman? He was thy lord," presently adding, "But this is
no time for talk. When 'tis night, get thee to the top of the
palace and wait on the terrace till thy lord come to thee and
compass thy deliverance." Then she gave her what she would of
perfumes and returning to the Chamberlain, acquainted him with
whatso had passed, and he told the youth. Now as soon as it was
evening, the Chamberlain bade bring two hackneys and great store
of water and provaunt and a riding-camel and a fellow to show
them the way. These he ambushed without the town whilst he and
the young man, taking with them a long rope, made fast to a
staple, went and stood below the palace. Whenas they came
thither, they looked and behold, the damsel was standing on the
terrace-roof, so they threw her the rope and the staple, which
she made fast, and tucking up her sleeves above her wrists, slid
down and landed with them. They carried her without the town,
where they mounted, she and her lord, and fared on, with the
guide in front,[FN#314] directing them on the way, and they
ceased not faring night and day till they entered his father's
house. The young man greeted his sire, who was gladdened in him,
and to whom he related all that had befallen him, whereupon he
rejoiced in his safety. As for the tutor, he wasted whatso was
with him and returned to the city, where he saw the youth and
excused himself. Then he questioned him of what had betided him
and he told him, whereat he admired and returned to companionship
with him; but the youth ceased to have regard for him and gave
him nor solde nor ration as was his wont, neither discovered to
him aught of his secrets. When the tutor saw that there was no
profit from him he returned to the king, the ravisher of the
slave-girl, and recounted to him what the Chamberlain had done
and counselled him to slay that official and egged him on to
recover the damsel, promising to give his friend a poison-draught
and return. Accordingly the king sent for the Chamberlain and
chid him for the deed he had done; whereat the king's servants
incontinently fell upon the Chamberlain and put him to death.
Meanwhile the tutor returned to the youth, who asked him of his
absence, and he told him that he had been in the city of the king
who had taken the slave-girl. When the youth heard this, he
misdoubted of his governor and never again trusted him in
anything but was always on his guard against him. Then the tutor
without stay or delay caused prepare great store of sweetmeats
and put in them deadly poison and presented them to the youth,
who, when he saw those sweetmeats, said to himself, "This is an
extraordinary thing of the tutor! Needs must there be in this
sweetmeat some mischief, and I will make proof of his
confectionery upon himself." Accordingly he got ready food and
set amongst it a portion of the sweetmeat, and inviting the
governor to his house placed the provaunt before him. He ate, and
amongst the rest which they brought him, the poisoned sweetmeat;
so while in the act of eating he died; whereby the youth knew
that this was a plot against himself and said, Whoso seeketh his
fortune by his own force[FN#315] attaineth a failure." "Nor,"
continued the Wazir, "is this, O king of the age, stranger than
the story of the Druggist and his Wife and the Singer." When King
Shah Bakht heard the tale of Al-Rahwan he gave him leave to
withdraw to his own house and he tarried there the rest of the
night and the next day till eventide evened.

The Second Night of the Mouth.

When the even evened, the king sat private in his sitting-chamber
and his mind was occupied with the story of the Singer and the
Druggist. So he called the Wazir and bade him tell the tale.
Answered he, "I will well. They recount, O my lord, the following




Tale of the Singer and the Druggist.



There was once in the city of Hamadan[FN#316] a young man of
seemly semblance and skilled in singing to the lute; wherefore he
was well seen of the citizens. He went forth one day of his home
with intent to travel, and gave not over journeying till his
travel brought him to a town and a goodly. Now he had with him a
lute and its appurtenance,[FN#317] so he entered and went round
about the streets till he happened upon a druggist who, when he
espied him, called to him. So he went up to him and bade him sit
down; accordingly, the youth sat down by his side, and the
druggist questioned him of his case. The singer told him what was
in his mind, and the pharmacist took him up into his shop and
bought him food and fed him. Then said he to him, "Rise and take
up thy lute and beg about the streets, and whenas thou smellest
the reek of wine, break in upon the drinkers and say to them, I
am a singer. They will laugh and cry, Come in to us. And when
thou singest, the folk will know thee and speak one to other of
thee; so shalt thou become known about town, and thou shalt
better thy business." He went round about, as the druggist bade
him, till the sun waxed hot, but found none drinking. Then he
entered a lane, that he might take rest, and seeing there a
handsome house and a lofty, stood in its shade and fell to
observing the excellence of its edification. Now while he was
thus engaged, behold, a casement opened and there appeared
thereat a face, as it were the moon. Quoth the owner of the face,
"What aileth thee to stand there? Dost thou want aught?" And
quoth he, "I am a stranger," and acquainted her with his
adventure; whereupon asked she, "What sayst thou to meat and
drink and the enjoyment of a fair face and getting thee
spending-money?" And he answered, "O mistress mine, this is my
desire whereof I am going about in quest!" So she opened the door
to him and brought him in: then she seated him at the upper end
of the room and served him with food. He ate and drank and lay
with her and futtered her. This ended, she sat down in his lap
and they toyed and laughed and exchanged kisses till the day was
half done, when her husband came home and she had no recourse but
to hide the singer in a mat,[FN#318] in which she rolled him up.
The husband entered and seeing the battle-place[FN#319]
disordered and smelling the reek of liquor questioned her of
this. Quoth she, "I had with me a bosom friend of mine and I
conjured her to crack a cup with me; and so we drank a jar full,
I and she, and but now, before thy coming in, she fared forth."
Her husband deemed her words true and went away to his shop, he
being none other than the singer's friend the druggist, who had
invited him and fed him; whereupon the lover came forth and he
and the lady returned to their pleasant pastime and abode on this
wise till evening, when she gave him money and said to him,
"To-morrow in the forenoon come hither to me." He replied, "Yes,"
and departed; and at nightfall he went to the Hammam-bath. On the
morrow, he betook himself to the shop of his friend the druggist,
who welcomed him as soon as he saw him, and questioned him of his
case and how he had fared that day. Quoth the singer, "Allah
requite thee with welfare, O my brother, for indeed thou hast
directed me to a restful life!" Then he acquainted him with his
adventure and told him the tale of the woman, till he came to the
mention of her husband, when he said, "And at midday came the
horned cuckold,[FN#320] her husband, and knocked at the door. So
she wrapped me in the mat, and when he had wended his ways I came
forth and we returned to our pleasant play." This was grievous to
the druggist, and he repented of having taught him how he should
do and suspected his wife. Accordingly he asked the singer, "And
what said she to thee at thy going away?" and the other answered,
"She said, Come back to me on the morrow. So, behold, I am off to
her and I came not hither but that I might acquaint thee with
this, lest thy thoughts be pre-occupied with me." Then he
farewelled him, and walked out. As soon as the druggist was
assured that he had reached the house, he cast the net[FN#321]
over his shop and made for his home, in some suspicion of his
wife, and knocked at the door. Now the singer had entered and the
druggist's wife said to him, "Up with thee and enter this chest."
Accordingly he entered it and she shut it down on him and opened
to her husband, who came in all distraught, and searched the
house but found none and overlooked the chest. Hereat he said in
his mind "The house[FN#322] is one which favoureth my house and
the woman is one who favoureth my wife," and returned to his
shop; whereupon the singer came forth of the chest and falling
upon the druggist's wife, had his wicked will of her and spent
upon her what was her due, and weighed down the scale for her
with full measure. Then they ate and drank and kissed and clipped
necks, and in this way they abode till the evening, when she gave
him money, because she found his weaving nice and good,[FN#323]
and made him promise to come to her on the morrow. So he left her
and slept his night and on the morrow he returned to the shop of
his friend the druggist and saluted him. The other welcomed him
and questioned him of his case; whereat he told his tale till he
ended with the mention of the woman's husband, when he said,
"Then came the horned cuckold, her mate and she stowed me away in
the chest and shut down the lid upon me, whilst her addlepated
pander[FN#324] of a husband went about the house, top and bottom;
and when he had gone his way, we returned to our pleasant
pastime." With this, the druggist was assured that the house was
his house and the wife his wife, and quoth he, "Now what wilt
thou do to-day?" Quoth the singer, "I shall return to her and
weave for her and full her yarn[FN#325], and I came not[FN#326]
save 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 returning to his house, rapped at the door.
Said the singer, "Let me jump into the chest, for he saw me not
yesterday;" but said she, "No! wrap thyself up in the mat." So he
wrapped himself up and stood in a corner of the room, whilst the
druggist entered and went no whither else save to the chest, but
found naught inside. Then he walked round about the house and
searched it, top and bottom, but came upon nothing and no one and
abode between belief and disbelief, and said to himself, "Haply,
I suspect my wife of what is not in her." So he was certified of
her innocence and going forth content, returned to his shop,
whereupon out came the singer and they resumed their former
little game, as was their wont, till eventide when she gave him
one of her husband's shirts and he took it and going away,
nighted in his own lodging. Next morning he repaired to the
druggist, who saluted him with the salam and came to meet him and
rejoiced in him and smiled in his face, deeming his wife
innocent. Then he questioned him of his case on yesterday and he
told him how he had fared, saying, "O my brother, when the
cornute knocked at the door, I would have jumped into the chest;
but his wife forbade me and rolled me up in the mat. The man
entered and thought of nothing save the chest; so he brake it
open and woned like one jinn-mad, going up and coming down. Then
he went about his business and I came out and we abode on our
accustomed case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her
husband's; and behold, I am now off to her." When the druggist
heard the singer's words, he was assured of the adventure and
knew that the calamity, all of it, was in his own house and that
the wife was his wife; and he considered the shirt, whereupon he
redoubled in assuredness and said to the singer, "Art thou now
going to her?" Said he, "Yes, O my brother," and taking leave of
him, went away; whereupon the druggist started up, as he were
stark mad, and dismantled his shop.[FN#327] Whilst he was thus
doing, the singer won to the house, and presently up came the
druggist and knocked at the door. The lover would have wrapped
himself up in the mat, but she forbade him and said, "Get thee
down to the ground floor of the house and enter the
oven-jar[FN#328] and close the cover upon thyself." So he did her
bidding and she went down to her husband and opened the door to
him, whereupon he came in and went round the house, but found no
one and overlooked the oven-jar. Then he stood musing and sware
that he would not again go forth of the house till the morrow. As
for the singer, when his stay in the oven-jar grew longsome upon
him, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone
away; and he went up to the terrace-roof and looking down, beheld
his friend the druggist: whereat he was sore concerned and said
in himself, "Alas, the disgrace, ah! This is my friend the
druggist, who of me was fain and dealt me fair and I have paid
him with foul." He feared to return to the druggist; so he
stepped down and opened the first door and would have gone out at
a venture, unseen of the husband; but, when he came to the outer
door, he found it locked and saw not the key. Hereat he returned
to the terrace and began dropping from roof to roof till the
people of the house heard him and hastened to fall upon him,
deeming him a thief. Now that house belonged to a Persian man; so
they laid hands on him and the house-master fell to beating him,
saying to him, "Thou art a thief." He replied, "No I am not a
thief, but a singing-man, a stranger who, hearing your voices,
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 cozen you. This one is none other than a thief who knoweth
how to sing, and when he cometh upon the like of us, he is a
singer." Said they, "O our lord, this man is a stranger, and
needs we must release him." Quoth he, "By Allah, my heart heaveth
at this fellow! Let me kill him with beating;" but quoth they,
"Thou mayst no ways do that." So they delivered the singer from
the Persian, the master of the house, and seated him amongst
them, whereupon he began singing to them and they rejoiced in
him. Now the Persian had a Mameluke,[FN#329] as he were the full
moon, and he arose and went out, and the singer followed him and
wept before him, professing lustful 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 Harim and
the folk fare away, I will grant thee thy desire; and I sleep in
such a place." Then the singer returned and sat with the
cup-companions, and the Persian rose and went out with the
Mameluke by his side. Now[FN#330] the singer knew the place which
the Mameluke occupied at the first of the night; but it chanced
that the youth rose from his stead and the waxen taper went out.
The Persian, who was drunk, fell over on his face, and the singer
supposing him to be the Mameluke, said, "By Allah, 'tis good!"
and threw himself upon him and began to work at his bag-trousers
till the string was loosed; then he brought out[FN#331] his
prickle upon which he spat and slipped it into him. Thereupon the
Persian started up, crying out and, laying hands on the singer,
pinioned him and beat him a grievous beating, after which he
bound him to a tree that stood in the house-court. Now there was
in the house a beautiful singing-girl and when she saw the singer
tight pinioned and tied to the tree, she waited till the Persian
lay down on his couch, when she arose and going up to the singer,
fell to condoling with him over what had betided him and making
eyes at him and handling his yard and rubbing it, till it rose
upright. Then said she to him, "Do with me the deed of kind and I
will loose thy pinion-bonds, lest he return and beat thee again;
for he purposeth thee an ill purpose." Quoth he, "Loose me and I
will do it;" but quoth she, "I fear that, an I loose thee, thou
wilt not do it. But I will do it and thou have me standing; and
when I have done, I will loose thee." So saying, she opened her
clothes and introducing the singer's prickle, fell to toing and
froing.[FN#332] Now there was in the house a fighting-ram, which
the Persian had trained to butting,[FN#333] and when he saw what
the woman was doing, he thought she wished to do battle with him;
so he broke his halter and running at her, butted her and split
her skull. She fell on her back and shrieked; whereupon the
Persian started up hastily from sleep and seeing the singing-girl
on her back and the singer with yard on end, cried to him, "O
accursed, doth not what thou hast erewhile done suffice thee?"
Then he beat him a shrewd beating and opening the door, thrust
him out in the middle of the night. He lay the rest of the dark
hours in one of the ruins, and when he arose in the morning, he
said, "None is in fault! I, for one, 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 Predestination overcometh
Precaution and for me there remaineth no tarrying in this town."
So he went forth from the place. "Nor" (continued the Wazir), "is
this story, strange though it be, stranger than that of the King
and his Son and that which betided them of wonders and rare
marvels." When the king heard this story, he deemed it pretty and
pleasant and said, "This tale is near unto that which I know and
'tis my rede I should do well to have patience and hasten not to
slay my Minister, so I may get of him the profitable story of the
King and his Son." Then he gave the Wazir leave to go away to his
own house; so he thanked him and tarried in his home all that
day.

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