Part 75

This said, the old men moved to a distance from the dome, and immediately fifty beautiful young maidens drew near to it: each of them was mounted on a little white horse; they wore no veils, and carried gold baskets, full of all sorts of precious stones. They also rode thrice round the dome, and halting at the same place as the others had done, the youngest of them spoke in the name of all, as follows: O prince! once so beautiful, what relief can you expect from us? If we could restore you to life by our charms, we would become your slaves. But you are no longer sensible to beauty, and have no more occasion for us.

When the young maids were withdrawn, the king and his courtiers arose, and having walked thrice round the figure representing Codadad, the king spoke as follows: O my dear son, light of my eyes, I have then lost thee for ever! He accompanied these words with sighs, and watered the tomb with his tears; his courtiers weeping with him. Then the gate of the dome was shut, and all the people returned to the city. Next day there were public prayers in all the mosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively. On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to be beheaded. All the people, incensed at their cruelty towards Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The scaffolds were erecting, but the execution was respited, because, on a sudden, news was brought that the neighbouring princes, who had before made war on the king of Harran, were advancing with more numerous forces than the first time, and were not then far from the city. It had been long known that they were preparing for war, but their preparations caused no alarm. This news occasioned a general consternation, and gave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalized himself in the former war against those enemies. Alas! said they, were the brave Codadad alive, we should little regard those princes who are coming to surprise us. The king, nothing dismayed, raised men with all possible speed, formed a considerable army, and being too brave to await the enemy’s coming to attack him within his walls, marched out to meet them. They, on their side, being informed by their advanced parties, that the king of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in the plain and formed their army.

As soon as the king discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and ranged them in order of battle. The signal was given, and he attacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the opposition inferior. Much blood was shed on both sides, and the victory remained long dubious; but at length it seemed to incline to the king of Harran’s enemies, who, being more numerous, were upon the point of surrounding him, when a great body of horse appeared on the plain, and drew near the two armies in good order. The sight of that fresh party daunted both sides, not knowing what to think of them; but their doubts were soon cleared; for those horsemen flew upon the flank of the king of Harran’s enemies with such a furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them. Nor did they stop here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.

The king of Harran, who had attentively observed all that passed, admired the bravery of those horsemen, whose unexpected arrival had given the victory to his side. But, above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had seen fighting with more than ordinary valour. He longed to know the name of that generous hero. Impatient to see and thank him, he advanced towards him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him. The two princes drew near, and the king of Harran discovering Codadad in that brave warrior, who had just assisted him, or rather defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise. Sir, said Codadad, to him, you have sufficient cause to be astonished at the sudden appearance before your majesty of a man whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have been so had not Heaven preserved me still to serve you against your enemies. O! my son, cried the king, is it possible that you are restored to me? Alas! I despaired of seeing you any more. So saying, he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to such a tender embrace.

I know all, my son, said the king again, after having long held him in his arms. I know what return my sons have made you for the service you did in delivering them out of the hands of the black; but you shall be revenged to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace: your mother, whom you have cost so many tears, expects me, to rejoice with us for the defeat of our enemies. What a joy will it be to her to be informed that my victory is your work! Sir, said Codadad, give me leave to ask you, how you could know the adventure of the castle? Have any of my brothers, repenting, owned it to you? No, answered the king; the princess of Deryabar has given us an account of every thing, for she is in my palace, and came thither to demand justice against your brothers. Codadad was transported with joy to understand that the princess his wife was at the court. Let us go, sir, cried he to his father in a rapture; let us go see my mother, who waits for us. I am impatient to dry up her tears, as well as those of the princess of Deryabar.

The king immediately returned to the city with his army, which he dismissed, and re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the people, who followed him in crowds, praying to Heaven to prolong his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies. These two princes found Pirouze and her daughter-in-law waiting for the king to congratulate him; but words cannot express the transports of joy they felt when they saw the young prince come with him: their embraces were mingled with tears of a very different kind from those they had before shed for him. When these four persons had sufficiently yielded to all the emotions that the ties of blood and love inspired, they asked Pirouze’s son by what miracle he came to be still alive?

He answered, that a peasant mounted on a mule happening accidentally to come into the tent, where he lay senseless, and perceiving him alone, and stabbed in several places, had made him fast on his mule and carried him to his house, where he applied to his wounds certain herbs chewed, which recovered him in a few days. When I found myself well, added he, I returned thanks to the peasant, and gave him all the diamonds I had. Then I drew near to the city of Harran; but being informed by the way that some neighbouring princes had gathered forces, and were coming to fall upon the king’s subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and stirred up those people to undertake his defence. I armed a great number of young men, and heading them, happened to come in at that time when the two armies were engaged.

When he had done speaking, the king said, Let us return thanks to God for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the traitors, who would have destroyed him, should perish this day. Sir, answered the generous son of Pirouze, though they are wicked and ungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood: they are my brothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon them. This generosity drew tears from the king, who caused the people to be assembled, and declared Codadad his heir. Then he ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought loaded with irons. Pirouze’s son struck off their chains, and embraced them all successively, with as much sincerity as he had done in the court of the black castle. The people were charmed with Codadad’s good disposition, and loaded him with applause. The surgeon was next nobly rewarded, in requital of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar.

The sultaness Scheherazade, having related the previous stories with so much address, and in so agreeable a manner, that the sultan of the Indies could not forbear showing the pleasure that relation gave him, said to that monarch, I doubt not but your majesty is very well satisfied to find the caliph Haroun Alraschid change his sentiments in favour of Ganem, his mother and sister; and I believe you may be sensibly affected with their misfortunes, and the ill treatment they received: but I am persuaded, if your majesty would hear the story of the Sleeper awakened, it would, instead of exciting all those emotions of indignation and compassion in your breast, on the contrary, afford you much mirth and diversion. The sultan, who promised himself some new adventures from the title of this story, would have heard it that morning, but perceiving day approach, deferred it till the next; when Dinarzade called upon her sister, who began her story in these words.

The Story of the Sleeper awakened.

In the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Bagdad a very rich merchant, who, having married a woman advanced in years, had but one son, whom he named Abon Hassan, and educated with great restraint: when his son was thirty years old, the merchant died, and left him his sole heir, and master of great riches, which his father had amassed together by much frugality and close application to business.

Abon Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very different from those of his father, determined to make another use of his wealth; for as his father had never allowed him any money but what was just necessary for subsistence, and he had always envied those young persons of his age who wanted for nothing, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures to which youth are too much addicted, he resolved in his turn to distinguish himself by extravagances proportionable to his fortune. To this end he divided his riches into two parts: with one half he bought houses in town, and land in the country, with a promise to himself, never to touch the income of his estate which was considerable enough to live upon very handsomely, but lay it all by as he received it: with the other half, which consisted in ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he had lost in the severe restraint in which his father had always kept him.

With this intent, Abon Hassan formed a society in a few days with people of his age and condition, and thought of nothing but how to make their time pass agreeably. Every day he gave them splendid entertainments, at which the most delicate meats were served up, and the most exquisite wines flowed in plenty, while concerts of the best vocal and instrumental music by performers of both sexes heightened their pleasures, and this young band of debauchees, with the glasses in their hands, joined their songs with the music, thus forming a concert with the instruments; and these feasts generally ended with balls, to which the best dancers of Bagdad of both sexes were invited. These entertainments, renewed every day, were so expensive to Abon Hassan, that he could not support the extravagance above a year: and the great sum which he had consecrated to this prodigality, and the year, ended together. As soon as he left off keeping this table, his friends forsook him; whenever they saw him they avoided him, and if by chance he met any of them, and went to stop them, they always excused themselves on some pretence or other.

Abon Hassan was touched more by this strange behaviour of his friends, who had forsaken him so basely and ungratefully, after all the protestations of friendship they had made him, and their inviolable attachment to his service, than for all the money he had so foolishly squandered away: he went melancholy and thoughtful, his head hanging down, and his countenance expressive of deep vexation, into his mother’s apartment, and sat down at the end of a sofa at a distance from her. What’s the matter with you, son? said his mother, seeing him in this condition. Why are you so altered, so dejected, and so different from yourself? You could not certainly be more concerned, if you had lost all you had in the world. I know you have lived very profusely, and believe all your money is spent; you have yet a good estate; and the reason that I did not so very much oppose your irregular way of living was, that I knew the wise precaution you had taken to preserve half your substance. I do not, therefore, see why you should plunge yourself into this deep melancholy.

At these words Abon Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of his sighs, cried out, Ah! mother, I see at last, by sad experience, how insupportable poverty is; I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as the setting of the sun does of light. As poverty makes us forget all the commendations and fine things said of us before our fall, it makes us endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our nights in tears and sorrow. In short, a poor man is looked upon, both by friends and relations, as a stranger. You know, mother, how I have treated my friends for this year past; I have entertained them with all imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money, and now they have left me, when I can treat them no longer. When I tell them that I have no more means to continue their mirth, I mean the money I laid by to employ in such purposes. For my estate, I thank Heaven for having given me the grace to keep the oath I have made, not to enter upon that, to spend it so foolishly: and now I shall keep that oath, and know how to make good use of what is left. But first I will try how far my friends, who deserve not that I should call them so, will carry their ingratitude. I will go to them one after another, and when I have represented to them what I have done for their sakes, I will ask them among them to make me up a sum of money, to relieve me out of the miserable condition I have reduced myself, to please them; but as I have already said, I will not take these steps, but to try if I can find any sentiment of gratitude remaining in them.

I do not pretend, son, said Abon Hassan’s mother, to dissuade you from executing your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you have no ground for hope. Believe me, you will find no relief but from the estate you have reserved. I see you do not, but will soon know those people, which among persons of your sort are generally called friends, and I wish to Heaven you may know it in the manner I desire; that is to say, for your own good. Mother, replied Abon Hassan, I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall be more certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall inform myself better of their baseness and insensibility. Abon Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom he found at home; representing to them the great need he was in, and begged of them to draw their purse-strings to assist him. He promised to give every one bonds to pay them the money they lent him, as soon as his affairs were made up; giving them to understand at the same time, that it was, in a great measure, upon their accounts that he was so distressed, that he might the more powerfully excite their generosity; and forgot not to allure them with the hopes of being once again entertained in the same manner as before.

Not one of his bottle companions was affected with the arguments which the afflicted Abon Hassan made use of to persuade them; and he had the mortification to find, that many of them told him plainly they did not know him.

He returned home again full of grief and indignation; and going into his mother’s apartment, said, Ah! madam, you were right; instead of friends, I have found none but perfidious ungrateful wretches, who deserve not my friendship, which I renounce, and promise you I will never see them more. He resolved to be as good as his word, and took every precaution to avoid falling into the same inconvenience; taking an oath never to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any entertainment again while he lived. He drew the strong box in which he had put the rents he had received from his estate from the place where he had placed it in reserve, and put it in the room of that he had emptied, and resolved to take out every day no more than was sufficient to defray the expense of a single person to sup with him, who, according to the oath he had taken, was not to be any man of Bagdad, but a stranger that came into Bagdad the same day, and must take his leave of him the next morning after one night’s meal.

According to this project, Abon Hassan took care every morning to provide whatever was necessary for this treat, and towards the close of the evening went and sat at the end of Bagdad bridge; and as soon as he saw a stranger, of whatever rank or condition he was, he accosted him civilly, and invited him to sup and lodge with him that night; and after having informed him of the law he had imposed upon himself, took him home with him. The repast with which Abon Hassan regaled his guests was not costly, but always sufficient, with plenty of good wine, and generally lasted till the night was pretty well advanced; when, instead of entertaining his guest with the affairs of state, his family, or business, as is too frequent, he affected to talk only of indifferent agreeable subjects. He was naturally of so gay and so pleasant a temper, that he could give the most agreeable turns to conversation on every subject, and make the most melancholy persons merry. When he sent away his guests the next morning, he always said, God preserve you from all sorrow wherever you go; when I invited you yesterday to come and sup with me, I informed you of the law I have imposed on myself; therefore do not take it ill if I tell you, that we must never see one another again, nor drink together, either at home or any other house, for reasons best known to myself; so God conduct you.

Abon Hassan was very exact in the observation of this oath, and never looked upon or spoke to the strangers he had once entertained; wherever he met them in the streets, the squares, or any public assemblies, he affected not to see them, and turned away to avoid them, that they might not speak to him, or he have any communication with them. He had acted for a long time after this manner, when, one afternoon, a little before sun-set, as he sat upon the bridge according to custom the caliph Haroun Alraschid came by, but so disguised that it was impossible to know him; for that monarch, though his chief ministers and officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very punctually, would nevertheless inform himself of every thing, and for that purpose often disguised himself in different ways, and walked through the city and suburbs of Bagdad, sometimes one way and sometimes another. That day, being the first of the month, he was dressed like a merchant of Moussol, who had but just embarked, and was followed by a tall stout black slave.

As the caliph had in his disguise a grave and respectful air, Abon Hassan, who thought him to be a Moussol merchant, rose up, and, after having saluted him with a graceful air, and kissed his hand, said to him, Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival; I beg you to do me the honour to go and sup with me, and repose yourself at my house this night, after the fatigue of your voyage: and to oblige him not to refuse him that favour, he told him his custom of entertaining the first stranger he met with. The caliph found something so odd and singular in Abon Hassan’s taste, that he was very desirous to know the bottom of it; and without quitting the character of a merchant, told him, that he could not better answer that great civility, which he did not expect at his arrival at Bagdad, than by accepting the obliging offer that he made him; that he had only to lead the way, and he was ready to follow him.

Abon Hassan, who knew not that the guest which chance presented to him was so very much above him, treated the caliph as his equal, carried him home, and led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him on a sofa, in the most honourable place. Supper was ready, and the cloth laid. Abon Hassan’s mother, who took upon herself the care of the kitchen, sent up three dishes; the first was a capon and four large pullets, which was set in the middle; and the second and third, placed on each side, were a fat roasted goose and broiled pigeons. This was all; but they were good of the kind, and well-flavoured, with proper sauces.

Abon Hassan sat down over-against his guest, and he and the caliph began to eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking or drinking, according to the custom of the country. When they had done eating, the caliph’s slave brought them water to wash their hands: and in the mean time Abon Hassan’s mother cleared the table, and brought up a dessert of all the various sorts of fruits then in season; as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, and various pastes of dried almonds, &c. As soon as it grew dark, wax candles were lighted, and Abon Hassan, after charging his mother to take care of the caliph’s slave, set on bottles and glasses.

Then Abon Hassan sitting down with the pretended Moussol merchant again, filled out a glass of wine, before he touched the fruit; and holding it out in his hand, said to the caliph, still taking him for a merchant of Moussol, You know, sir, that the cock never drinks before he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; I invite you to follow my example. I do not know what you may think; but, for my part, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine. Let us leave those sort of people to their dull melancholy humours, and seek for mirth, which is only to be found in a brimmer.

While Abon Hassan was drinking, the caliph taking the glass that was set for him, said, You are an honest fellow; I like your pleasant temper, and expect you will fill me as much. Abon Hassan, as soon as he had drank, filled the caliph’s glass, and giving it to him, Taste this wine, sir, said he; I will warrant it good. I am very well persuaded of that, replied the caliph, laughing; you know how to choose the best. O, replied Abon Hassan, (while the caliph was taking off his glass,) one need only look in your face to see you have seen the world, and know what good living is. If, added he in Arabic verse, my house could think and express its joy, how happy would it be to possess you, and, bowing before you, would cry, How overjoyed am I to see myself honoured with the company of so well-behaved and so polite a personage, and for meeting with a man of your merit.