Supplemental Nights to The Book of the Thousand and One Nights by Sir Richard Francis Burton (online e book reader .TXT) 📖

my back into a pit, wherein was water, a deep hollow and a steep; and a dog of those dogs fell in with me. The woman, who was then a girl in the bloom of youth, full of strength and spirit, was moved to ruth on me, for the calamity whereinto I was fallen, and coming to me with a rope, said to me, �Catch hold of the rope,’ So I hent it and clung to it and she haled me up; but, when I was half-way up, I pulled her down and she fell with me into the pit; and there we abode three days, she and I and the hound. When her people arose in the morning and did not see her, they sought her in the camp, but, finding her not and missing me also, never doubted but she had fled with me.[FN#507] Now she had four brothers, as they were Saker-hawks, and they took horse and dispersed in search of us. When the day yellowed on the fourth dawn, the dog began to bark and the other hounds answered him and coming to the mouth of the pit, stood howling to him. The Shaykh, my wife’s father, hearing the howling of the hounds, came up and standing at the brink of the hollow, looked in and beheld a marvel. Now he was a brave man and a sensible, an elder experienced in affairs, so he fetched a cord and bringing forth the three, questioned us twain of our case. I told him all that had betided and he fell a-pondering the affair.

Presently, her brothers returned, whereupon the old man acquainted them with the whole case and said to them, �O my sons, know that your sister intended not aught but good, and if ye kill this man, ye will earn abiding shame and ye will wrong him, and wrong your own souls and eke your sister: for indeed there appeareth no cause such as calleth for killing, and it may not be denied that this accident is a thing whose like may well occur and that he may easily have been the victim of suchlike chance.’

Then he addressed me and questioned me of my lineage; so I set forth to him my genealogy and he, exclaiming, �A man of her match, honourable, understanding,’ offered me his daughter in wedlock. I consented to this and marrying her, took up my abode with him and Allah hath opened on me the gates of weal and wealth, so that I am become the richest in monies of the tribesmen; and the Almighty hath stablished me in that which He hath given me of His bounties.” The young man marvelled at his tale and lay the night with him; and when he arose in the morning, he found his estrays. So he took them and returning to his folk, acquainted them with what he had seen and all that had befallen him. “Nor” (continued the Wazir) “is this stranger or rarer than the story of the King who lost kingdom and wealth and wife and children and Allah restored them to him and requited him with a realm more magnificent than that which he had forfeited and better and finer and greater of wealth and degree.” The Minister’s story pleased the King and he bade him depart to his abode.

 

The Twenty-sixth Night of the Month.

 

When came the night, the king summoned his Wazir and bade him tell the story of the King who lost kingdom and wife and wealth.

He replied, “Hearing and obeying! Give ear, O sovran, to

The Tale of the King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth and Allah restored them to Him.[FN#508]

 

There was once a king of the kings of Hind, who was a model of morals, praiseworthy in policy, lief of justice to his lieges, lavish to men of learning and piety and abstinence and devoutness and worship and shunning mischief-makers and froward folk, fools and traitors. After such goodly fashion he abode in his kingship what Allah the Most High willed of watches and days and twelvemonths,[FN#509] and he married the daughter of his father’s brother, a beautiful woman and a winsome, endowed with brightness and perfection, who had been reared in the king’s house in delicacy and delight. She bare him two sons, the most beauteous that might be of boys, when came Destiny from whose decree is no deliverance and Allah the Most High raised up against the King another king, who came forth upon his realm, and was joined by all the folk of the city that had a mind to lewdness and frowardness. So he strengthened himself by means of them against the King and compassed his kingdom, routing his troops and killing his guards. The King took his wife, the mother of his sons, and what he might of monies and saved his life and fled in the darkness of the night, unknowing whither he should wend.

Whenas wayfare grew sore upon them, there met them highwaymen on the way, who took all that was with them, so that naught remained to each of them save a shirt and trousers; the robbers left them without even provaunt or camels or other riding-cattle, and they ceased not to fare on afoot, till they came to a copse, which was an orchard of trees on the ocean shore.[FN#510] Now the road which they would have followed was crossed by a sea-arm, but it was shallow and scant of water; wherefore, when they reached that place, the king took up one of his children and fording the water with him, set him down on the further bank and returned for his other son, whom also he seated by his brother. Lastly, returning for their mother, he took her up and passing the water with her, came to the place where he had left his children, but found them not. Thereupon he looked at the midst of the island and saw an old man and an old woman, engaged in making themselves a reed-hut: so he set down his wife over against them and started off in quest of his children, but none gave him news of them and he went round about right and left, yet found not the whereabouts they were. On this wise fared it with him; but as to the children, they had entered the copse to make water, and they found there a forest of trees, wherein, if a sturdy horseman[FN#511] strayed, he might wander by the week, and never know its first from its last. So the boys pushed into it and wotted not how they should return and went astray in that wood, for a purpose willed of Allah Almighty, whilst their father sought them, but found them not. So he returned to their mother and they abode weeping for their children; as for whom, when they entered the forest, it swallowed them up and they fared at haphazard, wandering in it many days, knowing not whence they came or whither they went, till they issued forth, at another side, upon the open country. Meanwhile, their parents, the king and queen, tarried in the island, over against the old man and his old woman, and ate of the fruits and drank of the rills that were in it till, one day of the days, as they sat, behold, up came a ship and made fast to the island-side, for provisioning with water, whereupon they[FN#512] looked one at other and spoke.

The master of the craft was a Magian man and all that was therein, both crew and goods, belonged to him, for he was a trader and went round about the world. Now greed of gain deluded the old man, the owner of the island, and he fared to the ship and gave the Guebre news of the King’s wife, setting out to him her charms, till he made him long for her and his soul moved[FN#513] him to practise treachery and cozenage upon her and take her from her husband. Accordingly, he sent to her, saying, “Aboard with us is a woman with child, and we dread lest she be delivered this night: hast thou aught of skill in midwifery?” She replied, “Yes.” Now it was the last of the day; so he sent to her to come up into the ship and deliver the woman, for that the labour-pangs were come upon her; and he promised her clothes and spendingmoney. Hereat, she embarked confidently, with heart at ease for herself, and transported her gear to the ship; but no sooner had she come thither than the sails were hoisted and the canvas was loosed[FN#514] and the ship set sail. When the King saw this, he cried out and his wife wept in the ship and would have cast herself into the waves; but the Magian bade his men lay hands on her. So they seized her and it was but a little while ere the night darkened and the ship vanished from the King’s eyes; whereupon he fainted away for excess of weeping and lamentation and passed his night bewailing his wife and his children. And when the morning morrowed he began improvising these couplets:—[FN#515]

 

“O World, how long, this spite, this enmity?

Say me, dost ever spare what spared can be?

And look! my friends have far�d fain and free!

They went and went wi’ them my dear delight E’en from the day when friends to part were dight And turbid made their lost life’s clarity.

By Allah, ne’er I wist their worth aright Nor ever wot I worth of friends unite Till fared they, leaving flame in heart of me!

 

I’ll ne’er forget them since what day each wight Hied and withdrew fro’ me his well-loved sight And yet I weep this parting-blow to dree.

I vow an Heaven deign my friends return And cry the crier in mine ears that yearn “The far is near, right soon their sight shalt see!”

Upon their site my cheeks I’ll place, to sprite I’ll say, “Rejoice, thy friends return to thee!”

Nor blame my heart when friends were lief to flee: I rent my heart ere rent my raimentry.”

 

He sat weeping for the severance of his wife and children till the morning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, unweeting what he should do, and ceased not walking along the sea-shore days and nights, unknowing whither he went and taking no food save the herbs of the earth and seeing neither man nor wildling nor other living thing, till his wayfare brought him to a mountain-top. He sojourned in the highland and abode awhile there alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of its founts; then he came down thence and trudged along the high road three days, when he hit upon tilled fields and villages and gave not over going till he made a great city on the shore of the salt sea and came to its gate at the last of the day. The gatekeepers allowed him no admission; so he spent his night anhungered, and when he arose in the morning, he sat down hard by the portal. Now the king of the city was dead and had left no son, and the citizens fell out anent who should be ruler over them: and their words and redes differed, so that civil war was like to befal them thereupon. But it came to pass that, after long jangle, they agreed to leave the choice to the late king’s elephant and that he unto whom he consented should be king and that they would not contest with him the sway. So to this they sware and on the morrow, they brought out their elephant and fared forth to a site within sight of the city; nor was there man or woman but was present at that moment.

Then