Part 1

[Transcriber's Notes:

The first edition of this translation was published in London in 1802. It was translated indirectly by Edward Forster from the French translation of Antoine Galland titled Les mille et une nuits.

Footnotes appearing in the Preface were numbered alphabetically and moved to the end of the ebook with the endnotes.]

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.

VOL. I.

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.

IN FOUR VOLUMES, TRANSLATED BY EDWARD FORSTER, M. A.

THE FOURTH EDITION.

VOL. I.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR WILLIAM MILLER, ALBEMARLE-STREET,

Reprinted by Assignment, for THOMAS TEGG, NO. 111, CHEAPSIDE.

1815.

W. Lewis, Printer, St. John’s Square, London.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION.

Whatever rank an author or a translator may hold in the republic of letters, he is seldom listened to with much satisfaction whenever he speaks of himself, however necessary it may be for his own character, or however it may tend to the elucidation of his labours. His motives, indeed, either for writing, or publishing any work, will not much engage the attention of the Public, to whom the work itself is the only thing of consequence. And in this respect, as the translator of a work, which has stood the test of time, I confess, that I feel myself under no great apprehension. But of its merits, I shall have occasion to speak more at large in the Preface.--I must, however, trespass for some little time, in giving such explanations as appear to me to be necessary; in bestowing on others the praise which they deserve; and in endeavouring to extenuate the severity of that criticism, to which I may myself be exposed.

Some years ago, not to mention that it was the delight of my childhood, I was much struck with the beauties of the Arabian Nights; and being in possession of Monsieur Galland’s French copy, entitled, “Les mille et une Nuits, Contes Arabes,” I sometimes amused myself, while residing at Oxford, with _doing a story into English_. Two years since, I accidentally mentioned this circumstance to my Bookseller, who requested me to finish and publish my translation. The consequence of this and various other conversations, is the following publication; the faults of which, both as to embellishments and translation, must rest with myself. When I came to examine what had been done, which I did not until the matter was finally arranged, I found much more to do than I expected. And if an English Public can have been so long pleased with a translation, (I do not here use my own words,) “loaded with inelegancies, frequently deficient in grammar, and not always without errors,” I trust they will be indulgent to me, who have tried to remedy these defects; though with what success it is not for me to determine.

There is, however, one circumstance upon which I may be allowed to congratulate the Public as well as myself. I fortunately prevailed upon Mr. Smirke, whom every person of correct taste will acknowledge to be second to none in this range of the art, to paint for me a series of pictures, illustrative of this work; and of his exertions and success I cannot speak too highly. He has conceived the different styles, that were necessary for the humorous, the graceful, and the wonderful, with the mind of a man who knew and felt the beauties of his subject; and has executed them with the hand of a master, who knows how to give the full effect to his own conceptions. Nor, indeed, is this all that I owe to his kindness; for he has taken the trouble, not only to point out the different engravers, whose talents he thought best suited to the different pictures, but even to attend to the progress of their labours; and with the happiest consequence: for, I trust, no single work will be able to boast of such a series of beautiful and chaste engravings, which do honor to, and are worthy of, those who undertook them: and I think that these plates may, almost without an exception, be considered as examples of their finest work. The consequence, however, of all this has been the expenditure of a large sum of money for my Publisher, who will, I hope, find, in an extended patronage, an ample reward for his liberal endeavours to gratify the highly cultivated taste of an enlightened Public.

London, 5th April, 1802.

POSTSCRIPT TO THE SECOND EDITION.

The kindness which has been shewn to the former edition of this work, demands the gratitude of the Translator, which he has endeavoured to evince by a careful revision of the work, with the view of making the present edition less inaccurate, and more worthy of their protection.

London, January, 1810.

PREFACE.

As the mass of readers may, on a broad scale, be divided into two classes; those who read for amusement only, and those who read for information and instruction; so also may the writers be ranged, under those who address themselves to the imagination, and those who endeavour to direct the understanding. But, however we may, among the former, wish, for the sake of perspicuity of system, to class them under these distinct heads, we shall probably often find a combination of both in the same person. There are very few, it is to be feared, whose anxiety for knowledge is so strong, that they seek it in its most rugged and intricate paths, unless incited to the pursuit by the powerful motives of interest or ambition. While among the more numerous class, although amusement be their predominant principle, yet many wish to find information and instruction amidst their pleasures; and most, if their choice be not very unfortunate, be their wishes what they may, cannot avoid picking up and retaining something by the way, that may stimulate the understanding, or expand the heart. Surely then such writers, I will not say, “who enlist the imagination under the banners of science,” for with much ultimate success that perhaps is impossible, but who blend moral instruction and useful information with amusing tales, have some merit. And when a work even does more than this, when it contains a correct delineation, and gives a detailed account of the peculiar manners, customs, and modes of life, of a part of the globe in which some of the most singular nations of the earth once flourished, its merit is infinitely great, and it deserves the perusal and attention of every one. And such a work, in the fullest extent, is the Arabian Nights; which is more descriptive of the people, customs, and conduct of Eastern countries during the middle ages, than any other existing work; and, as far as other writers or travellers have investigated these subjects, so far have the correctness and authenticity of this work been confirmed.

I know the Arabian Nights have been formerly regarded as a literary forgery; and considered merely as a collection of tales, in which the marvellous and absurd have been even clumsily mixed up with scraps of eastern manners, and as calculated only for the amusement of children. But, however people may differ as to the greater or less degree of merit of the work itself, there is, I believe, hardly any one who now questions its authenticity: and I shall take the liberty not only of quoting some authors, who have spoken much in its favor, but also of mentioning some individuals now alive, whose talents will, it is presumed, give great weight to their testimony.

The original Arabic work is much more voluminous than M. Galland’s translation; but I have very high authority for asserting, that he has selected all the best and most interesting tales. At the conclusion of a translation of some tales and anecdotes, from the Arabic and Persian, by Jonathan Scott, Esq. this gentleman states, that he has purchased of Dr. White, professor of Arabic, in the University of Oxford, seven volumes of Arabic manuscript tales, which were brought over from Turkey by Edward Wortley Montague, Esq. and that these tales are not in Galland. The size of these seven volumes is not mentioned, and it is impossible, therefore, to judge of the quantity they contain. In the catalogue of Oriental manuscripts belonging to Mr. Montague, and sold by auction in 1787, was one called, “The Arabian Tales, of one thousand and one nights, in _six volumes complete_.”

These Tales were purchased at Mr. Montague’s sale by Dr. White, and were afterwards transferred to Mr. Scott, as mentioned by him at the end of his volume of Translations, published in 1800. And I believe they will soon be deposited in the Bodleian library at Oxford. They contain many other tales besides those which M. Galland has translated; but most of those which he has omitted, are not near so entertaining as the tales he translated, although there are some equally so. In a work, indeed, of so great an extent, equality of excellence could not perhaps be expected. Certainly not, when we consider the tales as the work of different authors. It is, indeed, the opinion of a gentleman of very extensive Oriental knowledge, that the Arabian Nights originally consisted of not more perhaps than a fourth part of the manuscript purchased by Dr. White; but that writers in various parts of the East, where the Mussulman religion prevailed, have added to them so as to complete the thousand and one nights, which I believe to be the division of those Tales formerly in the possession of Dr. White. In a copy of the Arabic work, which is in the possession of Dr. Russel, the number of nights is about two hundred only; and it is also a doubt, whether the manuscripts either in the Vatican or in the Royal Library at Paris are complete.

It is the opinion of most Oriental scholars, that no two copies will be found exactly to correspond, even in the original contracted work, and still less so in the more enlarged manuscripts. The original work has probably been frequently increased, through the different provinces and kingdoms of the east, by the addition of such tales as were popular in each, either as a continuation, or blended into one work. For this reason the copy of Cairo will be found to differ from that of Constantinople. This also is a very strong reason, and amply accounts for any difference there may be in the same story, as literally translated by Mr. Richardson at the end of his Arabic Grammar, and as given by M. Galland. The former made use of a manuscript belonging to Sir William Jones; the latter translated from that in the king’s library at Paris. The copy also which was formerly in the possession of Dr. White, has the signature of the person who transcribed it, and of the family to which he belonged; namely, “Omar al Siftee;” but it has not the name of the place where he resided; it is now, therefore, impossible to ascertain the place whence Mr. Montague procured the manuscript.

Many of the tales, also omitted by Galland, besides those which are uninteresting, are extremely indelicate, both as to language and sentiments, and consequently very unfit for the perusal of a chaste and discerning public.

There have also been four volumes of tales published, as the continuation of the Arabian Nights, and which M. Galland did not translate, although the Arabic manuscript of the whole, as the French translator states, was brought over, and placed in the library of the king of France at the same time. This latter French work has since been published in English. These, however, are universally believed to be spurious, and the work of an European. Abundant evidence might be given of this, were I inclined to enter into the question. I shall only mention one instance.--An inhabitant of the country where the fact happened, is made to express the greatest astonishment at an appearance the most common. “What a thick infectious mist! How could it arise from dry sand, destitute of water! It is a very extraordinary phenomenon!” The man who wrote this could never have been in Arabia, nor even have consulted modern travellers, or he would have known, that this appearance is most frequent: and I cannot here resist giving, in proof of this, the words of an early Arabian poet, as beautifully translated by that elegant scholar, Professor Carlyle, whose death must be considered by all as a severe loss, from the elegance and refinement of his cultivated mind. I must be permitted to transcribe the whole of this exquisite little poem. The passage alluded to is in the last stanza but one. It is an elegy by Lebid Ben Rabiat Alamary, a native of Yeman, and a contemporary with Mahomet, to whom he was an early convert. “This elegy, as is evident from its nature, must have been written previous to Lebid’s change of religion. Its subject is one that must ever interest a feeling mind--the return of a person, after a long absence, to a place where he had spent his early years. It is, in fact, an Arabian Deserted Village.”

Those dear abodes, which once contain’d the fair, Amidst Mitata’s wilds I seek in vain; Nor towers, nor tents, nor cottages are there, But scatter’d ruins, and a silent plain.

The proud canals, that once Rayanna grac’d, Their course neglected and their waters gone, Among the levell’d sands are dimly trac’d, Like moss-grown letters on a mouldering stone.

Rayanna say, how many a tedious year Its hallow’d circle o’er our heads hath roll’d, Since to my vows thy tender maids gave ear, And fondly listen’d to the tale I told?

How oft, since then, the star of spring, that pours A never-failing stream, hath drench’d thy head? How oft the summer’s cloud, in copious showers, Or gentle drops, its genial influence shed?

How oft, since then, the hovering mist of morn, Hath caus’d thy locks with glittering gems to glow? How oft, hath eve her dewy treasure borne To fall responsive to the breeze below?

The matted thistles, bending to the gale, Now clothe those meadows once with verdure gay; Amidst the windings of that lonely vale, The teeming antelope and ostrich stray:

The large-eyed mother of the herd, that flies Man’s noisy haunts, here finds a sure retreat, Here tends her clustering young, till age supplies Strength to their limbs and swiftness to their feet.

Save where the swelling stream hath swept those walls, And giv’n their deep foundations to the light (As the retouching pencil that recalls A long-lost picture to the raptur’d sight:)

Save where the rains have wash’d the gather’d sand, And bared the scanty fragments to our view, (As the [a] dust sprinkled on a punctur’d hand Bids the faint tints resume their azure hue.)

No mossy record of those once-lov’d seats Points out the mansion to inquiring eyes; No tottering wall, in echoing sounds, repeats Our mournful questions and our bursting sighs.

Yet midst those ruin’d heaps, that naked plain, Can faithful memory former scenes restore, Recall the busy throng, the jocund train, And picture all that charm’d us there before

Ne’er shall my heart the fatal morn forget, That bore the fair-ones from these seats so dear-- I see, I see the crowding litters yet, And yet the tent-poles rattle in my ear.

I see the maids with timid steps ascend, The streamers wave in all their painted pride; The floating curtains every fold extend, And vainly strive the charms within to hide.

What graceful forms those envious folds enclose! What melting glances thro’ those curtains play! Sure Weira’s antelopes, or Tudah’s roes Through yonder veils their sportive young survey.

The band mov’d on--to trace their steps I strove; I saw them urge the camel’s hastening flight; Till the white [b] vapour, like a rising grove, Snatch’d them for ever from my aching sight.

Nor since that morn have I Nawara seen, The hands are burst, which held us once so fast; Memory but tells me that such things have been, And sad reflection adds, that they are past.

“The Arabians,” says Mr. Hole, who has written very ingeniously upon the subject of one of the tales in the Arabian Nights, and whom I shall more than once take the liberty of consulting, “are described by writers, who have personally visited them, as an acute and sensible people, and this performance, (the present work) was probably composed not many centuries after that period, when they had added to their native stores of education, those of ancient Greece. To them we are chiefly indebted for the preservation of those valuable remains of antiquity: and so fully established was their literary reputation in former days, that, when Europe was immersed in barbarism, all polite learning passed under the designation of _Studia Arabum_.” (Vide Blackwall’s Letters on Mythology.)

“In the eighth, ninth, and succeeding centuries, when the European world, (says Mr. Richardson, in the preface to his Arabic Grammar) was clouded with barbarity and ignorance; when sovereign princes and great feudal lords could neither write nor read, the Arabians rivalled the Romans of the Augustan age in erudition and genius; whilst, with a more extensive empire, [c] they excelled them in magnificence, and in the more refined splendour and elegance of life. The khalifs Al Modhi, Al Rashid, Al Mamoun, and other monarchs of the illustrious house of Al Abbas, were men of learning, genius, and politeness; learning and genius were found therefore the surest avenues to royal favor; they were consequently universally cultivated; princes, generals, and viziers being not only munificent patrons of literary merit, but holding themselves a conspicuous rank among writers of the most distinguished class.

“The Arabian chiefs, (with, it must be confessed, an alloy of ferocity) were in general brave, liberal, hospitable, ingenious, penetrating, fond of learning of every species, and carrying, to the most singular excess, their admiration of poetry and eloquence. With such dispositions and attachments, therefore, it is easy to conceive, that their language became naturally an important object of their attention. The dialects of their numerous tribes furnished them with rich mines: from these they freely borrowed; and formed, from the whole, a language, sublime, comprehensive, copious, energetic, delicate, majestic; adapted equally for the softness of love, or the poignancy of satire; for the mournfulness of elegy, or the grandeur of heroics; for the simplest tale, or the boldest effort of rhetoric.

“In every stile of composition, therefore, the books in this language are numerous, and many of them of high intrinsic worth; their books, however, and their language, remain still but imperfectly known in Europe; nor can we ever hope, perhaps, for much advancement in this branch of learning, till the formidable fancied difficulties of the study are removed; till curiosity is stimulated by a hope of success; till attention is fixed by a conviction of its utility.”

The Augustan age of Arabian literature may be considered to have been about the time that the power of the caliphs was at its height, and this was about the 170th year of the Hegira, and the 701st of the Christian Æra, and during the reign of Haroun Alraschid, who bears so conspicuous a part in these volumes, and of his immediate successors. “The monarchs themselves,” says Professor Carlyle, “loved and cultivated the sciences; the ministers followed their example; and men of genius flocked to the court of Bagdad, from all parts of the world, with an assurance of receiving those honors and rewards which their abilities merited. The empire of the Khaliphs was at this time one of the most powerful that has ever existed; it extended, in Asia, from the gulph of Persia and the confines of Tartary to the Mediterranean and Indian seas, and comprehended all the habitable part of Africa, from the isthmus of Suez to the Atlantic Ocean.” And it was probably not long after this, that most of these tales were written, for I believe it is generally supposed, that they were not all the production of one author, or of one age.

Of the tales themselves, I do not mean to enter into a long and minute investigation; although such an investigation would be, if well conducted, highly amusing, and at the same time instructive. But to carry on an inquiry of this sort, to the extent it ought, would require great research and labour, and would in itself form a separate work. Mr. Hole has even produced a small volume in the illustration only of one story, which occupies not more than the fifth part of one volume of the present tales. All the peculiarities and customs, which are mentioned in the Arabian Nights, might be illustrated by similar peculiarities and customs, which are not only known to have existed among the very people, of whom this work delineates the manners, at the very time when the work itself was composed, but which also still exist among the same nations. Such an inquiry too would tend to explain some parts of the present work, which must, without it, now appear, if not absurd, at least unaccountable. To shew, however, that even the most common things are not inserted without a motive, and to illustrate what might be otherwise considered as ridiculous, I shall give one or two instances of the manner of investigation and sort of illustration proposed.

In the story of the Merchant and Genius, Vol. I. page 29, the latter says, “I have sworn to kill thee, as thou hast killed my son; for whilst thou was throwing about the stones of the dates thou hadst eaten, my son passed by, and one of them struck him in the eye and caused his death.” Now this, at first sight, seems a singular, if not a ridiculous thing; but even this has its foundation in an Eastern custom. There are accounts (and I speak upon the authority of Warren Hastings, Esq. than whom no one is better acquainted with Oriental manners and history; and whose name is almost reverenced throughout that quarter of the world,) there are accounts of people having been killed by date stones, which were shot at them in a particular manner with both hands. Those persons who are in the habit of doing this, will send the stone with such velocity as to give a most violent blow. And it is in this manner that prisoners have sometimes been put to death: a man sits down at a little distance from the object he intends to destroy, and then attacks him by repeatedly shooting at him with the stone of the date, thrown from his two fore-fingers; and in this way puts an end to his life. --The former translation, by calling these stones, the “shells” of the date, besides totally mistaking the fact, dates having no shells but only stones, makes complete nonsense of the tale.

Thus, too, in the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, in Vol. IV. Morgiana says, that she knew the man she had killed to be a robber, who had come with the intention of murdering her master, because he eat no salt at supper. Now this in itself is perfectly unintelligible: but when we find it to be a custom among the Arabians, and some other Easter nations, that, if any one eat salt at another’s table, it is a sure pledge of the honor and integrity of the guest, and for the safety of the host, and that even a robber will not then break the laws of hospitality, every thing is explained; and the Author’s local knowledge and veracity are authenticated.

I must add one other singular instance. In the story of Sidi Nouman, Vol. IV. page 183, after he has been changed into a dog by his wife Aminè, there is a long account of his treatment, particularly by one person, who, though he gives him food in the street, yet is distressed at his getting into his house; and who is one of those who think, “that water and soap enough cannot be found to wash their clothes, if a dog has touched them.” Yet this very man threw the nicest pieces to him the next morning, when with other dogs he was waiting before the door. The following extract from the Travels in the East of M. Olivier, in 1793, will illustrate the circumstance.