The princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much satisfaction at the knowledge of it: but, in reality, instead of rejoicing, their hatred for so amiable a brother was redoubled. They met together at night in a by-place, whilst Codadad and the princess his wife lay fast asleep in their tent. Those ungrateful, envious brothers, forgetting that, had it not been for the brave son of Pirouze, they musthave been devoured by the black, agreed among themselves to murder him. We have no other course to choose, said one of those wicked brethren; for the moment our father shall come to understand that this stranger he is already so fond of is our brother, and that he alone has been able to destroy a giant whom we could not all of us together conquer, he will bestow all his favour and a thousand praises on him, and declare him his heir, in spite of all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall down before him. Besides these, he added many other words, which made such an impression on their jealous minds, that they immediately repaired to Codadad, then fast asleep, stabbed him in a thousand places, and leaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of Deryabar, proceeded on their journey for the city of Harran, where they arrived the next day.
The king their father conceived the greater joy at their return, because he had despaired of ever seeing them. He asked what had been the occasion of their stay; but they took care not to acquaint him with it, making no mention either of the black or of Codadad; and only said, that, being curious to see the country, they had spent some time in the neighbouring cities.
In the mean time Codadad lay in his tent, drowned in his own blood, and little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife, who seemed to be in no much better condition than he. She rent the air with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and, bathing her husband’s body with her tears, Alas! Codadad, my dear Codadad, cried she, is it you whom I behold just departing this life? What cruel hands have put you into this condition? May I believe these are your brothers who have treated you so unmercifully? No, they are rather devils, who have taken those shapes to murder you. O barbarous wretches! whosoever you are, how could you make so ungrateful a return forthe service he has done you? But why should I complain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad! I alone am to blame for your death. You would tack your fate upon mine; and all the ill fortune that attends me since I left my father’s palace has fallen upon you. O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a wandering life and full of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why do you permit me to find any? Behold, you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be endeared to them.
By these, and other moving expressions, the unhappy princess of Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the deplorable Codadad, who could not hear her. But Codadad was not dead; and his consort, observing that he still breathed, ran to a large open town she spied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon. She was showed one, who went immediately with her: but when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to devour him. The princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most dismal manner. The surgeon took compassion; and, being unwilling to leave her in that miserable condition, proposed to her to return to the town, offering her his house and service.
She suffered herself to be prevailed on. The surgeon conducted her to his house, and, without knowing as yet who she was, treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect. He used all his rhetoric to comfort her; but it was in vain to think of removing her sorrow, which was rather heightened than diminished. Madam, said he to her one day, be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes; tell your country and your condition: perhaps I may give you some advice, when I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your calamity. You do nothing butafflict yourself, without considering that remedies may be found for the most desperate diseases.
The surgeon’s words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the princess, who recounted to him all her adventures; and when she had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her, saying, Madam, since this is the posture of affairs, give me leave to tell you, that you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and to perform what the name and the duty of a wife require of you. You are obliged to revenge your husband: if you please I will wait on you as your squire: let us go to the king of Harran’s court; he is a good and just prince: you need only represent to him, in a lively manner, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers: I am fully persuaded he will do you justice. I submit to your reasons, answered the princess: it is my duty to endeavour to revenge Codadad; and since you are so obliging and generous as to offer to bear me company, I am ready to set out. No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.
They alighted at the first caravansary they found; and inquiring of the host what news at court, It is, said he, in very great confusion. The king had a son, who lived a long time with him as a stranger, and none can tell what is become of that young prince. One of the king’s wives, called Pirouze, is his mother; she has made all possible inquiry, but to no purpose. All men are concerned at the loss of that prince, because he was very deserving. The king has forty-nine other sons, all of them born of several mothers; but not one of them has worth enough to comfort the king for the death of Codadad: I say his death, because it is impossible he should be alive, since no news havebeen heard of him, notwithstanding so much search has been made after him.
The surgeon, having heard this account from the host, concluded that the best course the princess of Deryabar could take, was to wait upon Pirouze: but that method was not without some danger, and required much precaution; for it was to be feared, that if the king of Harran’s sons should happen to hear of the arrival of their sister-in-law, and her design, they might cause her to be conveyed away before she could speak to Codadad’s mother. The surgeon weighed all these particulars, and considered what risk he might run himself; and therefore, that he might manage the affair with discretion, he desired the princess to stay in the caravansary, whilst he went to the palace to observe which might be the safest way to conduct her to Pirouze.
He went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the palace, like one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he spied a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was followed by several ladies mounted on mules, with a great number of guards and black slaves. All the people made a lane to see her pass along, and saluted her, prostrating themselves on the ground. The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then asked a calendar, who happened to stand by him, whether that lady was one of the king’s wives. Yes, brother, answered the calendar, she is one of the king’s wives, and the most honoured and beloved by the people, because she is mother to prince Codadad, of whom I suppose you have heard.
The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouze to a mosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the public prayers the king had ordered to be made for the safe return of Codadad. The people, who were highly concerned for that youngprince, ran in crowds to join their vows to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was quite full. The surgeon broke through the throng, and advanced as far as Pirouze’s guards. He staid out the prayers; and when that princess went out, he stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in his ear, saying, Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the princess Pirouze; may not I, by your means, be brought into her apartment? If that secret, answered the slave, be relating to prince Codadad, I dare promise you shall have audience of her this very day; but if it concerns not him, it is needless for you to endeavour to be introduced to her; for her thoughts are all upon her son, and she will not hear talk of any other subject. It is only about that dear son, replied the surgeon, that I would discourse to her. If so, said the slave, you need only follow us to the palace, and you shall soon speak to her.
Accordingly, as soon as Pirouze was returned to her apartment, that slave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important affair to communicate to her, and that it related to prince Codadad. No sooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouze expressed her impatience to see that stranger. The slave immediately conducted him into the princess’s closet, who ordered all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she concealed nothing. As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him abruptly what news he had to tell her of Codadad. Madam, answered the surgeon, after having prostrated himself on the ground, I have a long account to give you, and such as will be very surprising. Then he told her all the particulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with an eager attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, that tender mother swooned away on her sofa, as if she had been herself stabbed like her son. Her twowomen used proper means, and soon brought her to herself. The surgeon continued his relation; and when he had ended it, Pirouze said to him, Go back to the princess of Deryabar, and assure her from me that the king shall soon own her for his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself, be assured that your service shall be well rewarded.
When the surgeon was gone, Pirouze remained on the sofa in such a state of affliction as is not easy to imagine; and, relenting at the thoughts of Codadad, O! my son, said she, I must never then expect to see you more! Alas! when I gave you leave to depart from Samaria, and you took leave of me, I did not imagine that so unfortunate a death had awaited you at such a distance from me. Unfortunate Codadad! why did you leave me? It is true, you would not have acquired so much renown; but you had been still alive, and had not cost your mother so many tears. Whilst she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and her two confidants, moved by her sorrow, mixed their tears with hers.
Whilst they were all three in that affliction, the king came into the closet, and seeing them in that condition, asked Pirouze whether she had received any bad news concerning Codadad. Alas! sir, said she, all is over; my son has lost his life; and, to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the funeral rites; for, in all appearance, the wild beasts have devoured him. Then she told him all that she had heard from the surgeon, and did not fail to express herself fully at the inhuman manner in which Codadad had been murdered by his brothers.
The king did not give Pirouze time to finish her relation; but, being transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, Madam, said he to the princess, those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed these tears, and are the occasion of the mortal grief whichoppresses their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt. The king having spoken these words, with indignation appearing in his countenance, went directly to the presence-chamber, where all his courtiers attended, and such of the people as had any petitions to present to him. They were all astonished to see him in that passion, and thought his anger had been kindled against his people.
Their hearts failed them for fear. He ascended the throne, and causing the grand vizier to draw near, said, Hassan, I have some orders for you: go immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the princes my sons; shut them up in the tower appointed for a prison for murderers; and let this be done in a moment. All that were present quaked at the hearing of this surprising command; and the grand vizier, without answering one word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience, and went out of the presence to execute his orders, which were very surprising to him. In the mean time, the king dismissed those who attended to desire audience, and declared he would not despatch any business for a month to come. He was still in the presence-chamber, when the vizier returned. Are all my sons, said that prince, in the tower? They are, sir, answered the vizier; I have obeyed your orders. This is not all, replied the king, I have farther commands for you; and so saying, he went out of the presence-chamber, and returned to Pirouze’s apartment, with the vizier following him. He asked that princess where Codadad’s widow had taken up her lodging. Pirouze’s women told him; for the surgeon had not forgot that in his relation. Then the king, turning to his minister, Go, said he, to that caravansary, and bring a young princess, who lodges there; but treat her with all the respect due to her quality.
The vizier was not backward in performing whathe was ordered. He mounted on horseback, with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the caravansary where the princess of Deryabar was, whom he acquainted with his orders, and presented her, from the king, a fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds. She mounted it, and went to the palace, attended by all those great men. The surgeon bore her company, mounted on a sprightly Tartar horse which the vizier had provided for him. All the people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see that noble cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad’s wife, the city resounded with acclamations, the air rang with shouts of joy, which would certainly have been turned into lamentations, had that prince’s fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by all men.
The princess of Deryabar found the king at the palace gate, waiting to receive her. He took her by the hand, and led her to Pirouze’s apartment, where a very moving scene was acted among them. Codadad’s wife found her affliction redouble upon her at the sight of her husband’s father and mother; as, on the other side, those parents could not look on their son’s wife without being much concerned. She cast herself at the king’s feet, and having bathed them with tears, was so overcome with grief, that she was not able to speak one word. Pirouze was in no better condition; she seemed to be stunned with her sorrows; and the king, moved by those dismal objects, gave way to his passion: those three persons, mixing their tears and sighs, for some time observed a silence, which appeared extraordinary moving and pitiful. At length the princess of Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle and Codadad’s disaster. Then she required justice forthe treachery of the princes. Yes, madam, said the king to her, those ungrateful wretches shall perish, but Codadad’s death must first be made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not cause my subjects to rebel; and, though we have not my son’s body, we will not omit paying him the last duties. This said, he directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered him to build a dome of white marble in a delightful plain, in the midst of which the city of Harran stands; then he appointed the princess of Deryabar a fine apartment in his palace, acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.
Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished. Within it was erected a monument, and on it was placed a figure representing Codadad. As soon as all was perfected, the king ordered prayers to be said, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.
On that day, all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain to see that ceremony performed; which was after this manner. The king, attended by his vizier and the prime persons of the court, proceeded towards the dome; and being come to it, went in, and sat down with them on carpets laid on the ground, made of black satin, with gold flowers. A great body of horse guards, hanging their heads, and looking down, drew up close about the dome, and marched round it twice, observing a profound silence; but at the third round, they halted before the door, and all of them with a loud voice pronounced these words: ‘O prince, son to the king, could we by dint of sword and human valour any way retrieve your misfortune, we would bring you back to life; but the King of kings has commanded, and the angel of death has obeyed.’ Having uttered these words, they drew off, to make way for a hundred old men, all of themmounted on black mules, and wearing long gray beards.
These were anchorites, who lived all their days concealed in caves. They never appeared in the sight of the world, but when they were to assist at the obsequies of the kings of Harran, and of the princes of their family. Each of these venerable persons carried a book on his head, which he held with one hand. They took three turns round the dome without uttering one word; then stopping before the door, one of them said, ‘O prince, what can we do for you? If you could be restored to life by prayers or learning, we would rub our gray beards at thy feet, and recite prayers; but the King of the universe has taken you away for ever.’
This said, the old men removed at a distance from the dome, and immediately fifty young beautiful maids 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. Thus they did also ride 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.’ These words were attended with sighs, and he 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. The next day, there were public prayers in all themosques; 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, being incensed at their cruelty towards Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The scaffolds were erecting; but the execution was respited, on account that, 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 no great notice had been taken of it. This advice occasioned a general consternation, and gave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, by reason that prince had signalized himself in the former war against those enemies. Alas! said they, were the brave Codadad alive, we should little value 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 expect the enemy to come and 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 about hemming him in, when a good 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, as not knowing what to think of them. But their doubts were soon cleared;for those horsemen fell upon the flank of the king of Harran’s enemies, giving such a furious charge, that they soon broke and put them to the rout; and, not so satisfied, they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.
The king of Harran, who had nicely observed all the action, 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 a more than ordinary valour. He longed to know the name of that generous hero. Being 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 finding Codadad in that brave warrior who had just then succoured him, or rather defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise. Sir, said Codadad to him, you have sufficient cause to be astonished, seeing a man appear on a sudden before your majesty whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have been so, had not Heaven preserved me still 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. Having so said, he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to his loving embraces.
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, who has wept sufficiently for you, 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 handy-work! Sir, said Codadad, give me leave to ask you, how could youcome to know the adventure of the castle? Has any of my brothers, repenting, owned the thing to you? No, answered the king, the princess of Deryabar has given us an account of all things; for she is in my palace, and came thither to demand justice against your brothers. Codadad was in a transport of 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 to see my mother, who waits for us. I have an ardent desire 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; entering his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of his 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 there is no expressing the transport of joy they felt when they saw the young prince come with him: they dissolved in embraces, mixed with tears, but of a different sort from those they had before shed for him. When these four persons had performed all that the ties of blood and love demanded of them, the question was asked of 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 had 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 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 unto the villagers, and stirred up those people to stand upon their guard. I armed a good 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 them the offence, and beg pardon of you for 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 knocked off their chains, and embraced them all successively, with as much sincerity as he had done in the court of the black’s castle. The people were charmed with Codadad’s good nature, and highly applauded him. Next he nobly rewarded the surgeon, to requite the service he had done the princess of Deryabar.
The sultaness Scheherazade, having told the story of Ganem 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 am persuaded, if your majesty would hear the story of the Sleeper Awakened, it would, instead of exciting all those emotions ofindignation and compassion in your breast, on the contrary, afford you all the mirth and diversion imaginable. The sultan, who promised himself some new adventures from the title of that story, would have heard it that morning; but perceiving day approached, deferred it till next, when Dinarzade called upon her sister, who began her story as follows.
In the reign of caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Bagdad a very rich merchant, who, having married a woman pretty well in years, had but one son, whom he named Abon Hassan, and educated with great restraint. When this 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 his industry, frugality, and great application to business.
Abon Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very much different from those of his father, was resolved 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 none, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures to which youth are too much addicted, he resolved, in his turn, to signalize himself by extravagances proportionable to his fortune. To this end, he divided his riches in 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; with the other half, which he kept by him in ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he had lost in the severe restraint with which his father had always kept him.
With this intent, Abon Hassan associated himself in a few days with people of his age and condition,and thought of nothing more than how to spend their time agreeably. Every day he gave them splendid entertainments, at which the most exquisite and delicate wines flowed in plenty, while concerts of the best vocal and instrumental music heightened their pleasures; and then this young band of debauchees, with glasses in their hands, sang and joined with the music; and these feasts generally ended with balls at night, to which the best dancers in 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 one year; and, in short, 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 would stop them, they always excused themselves on some pretence or other.
Abon Hassan, touched more to the quick at 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 all the money he had foolishly squandered away, went, melancholy and thoughtful, into his mother’s apartment, and sat down on a sofa a good distance from her. What is the matter with you, son? said his mother, reading his grief in his countenance: why are you so altered, so dejected, and so much 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; yet you have a good estate; and the reason I did not so very much oppose your irregular way of living, was, I knew the wise precaution you had taken to preserve half your substance; therefore I do notsee 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 much as the setting sun does of light. In poverty, we have no commendations and fine things said unto us: we endeavour to conceal all our actions, 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 used 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. For my estate, I thank Heaven for having given me the grace to keep the oath I have made not to enter upon that; and now I shall know how to make a good use of it. But first, I will try the gratitude of friends, who deserve not that I should call them so: 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 to make me up a sum of money among them, to relieve me out of the miserable condition I am reduced to: these are the steps I intend to take to try their gratitude.
I do not pretend, son, said Abon Hassan’s mother, to dissuade you from executing your design; but I can tell you before-hand, that you have no ground for any 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, whom we generally call friends; and I wish to Heaven you may, 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 certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall informmyself better of their baseness. Upon this, Abon Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom he found at home, represented to them the great need he was in, and begged of them to loose 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 undone; and forgetting 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 scarce knew him.
He returned home again full of grief and rage; and, going into his mother’s apartment, said, Ah! madam, you was in the right of it; instead of friends, I have found none but ungrateful, perfidious wretches, who deserve not my friendship; whom I renounce, and promise never to see them more. He resolved to be as good as his word; and, to that end, took all possible precautions to avoid falling into the same inconvenience, taking an oath never to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any entertainment again. Afterwards he opened a strong chest, in which he had put the rents he had received from his estate, and resolved to take every day a sum that was sufficient to defray the expense of a single person to sup with him; who, according to the oath he had taken, must be a stranger that came into Bagdad the same day, and must take his leave of him the next morning.
According to this project, Abon Hassan took care every morning to provide whatever he designed for night, and towards the close of the evening went and sat on Bagdad bridge; and, as soon as ever he saw astranger, of whatever 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 plain and neat, 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 of indifferent subjects, and was naturally of so gay and pleasant a temper, that he could give the most agreeable turns in conversation, and make the most reserved and melancholy persons merry. When he saw his guest again the next morning, he always said to him, 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 made; therefore do not take it ill if I tell you that we must never see one another again, nor drink together, 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, any stranger he had once entertained, wherever he met them; and had lived for a long time after this manner, when one afternoon, a little before sunset, as he was sitting upon the bridge, according to custom, the caliph Haroun Alraschid came by so disguised that nobody could know him: for that monarch, though his chief ministers and officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very punctually, yet would take notice of every thing himself; and, to that purpose, often disguised himself, and walked through the city and suburbs of Bagdad; and that day was dressed like a merchant of Moussel, who had but just disembarked, and was followed by a slave.
As the caliph had in his disguise a grave and awful air, Abon Hassan, who thought him to be a Moussel merchant, went directly to him; and, after having saluted him with a smiling countenance, and kissed his hand, said, Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival, and beg of you to do me the honour to go and sup with me, and repose yourself at my home this night, after the fatigue of your voyage; and, to oblige him not to deny 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, without quitting the character of a merchant; and 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.
Abon Hassan, who knew not that the guest which fortune presented to him was so very much above him, treated him as his equal, carried him home, and led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him on a sofa, at the upper end of a table that was ready laid for supper, which was soon after sent up by Abon Hassan’s mother, who took upon herself the care of the kitchen, and consisted of three dishes. The first was a capon and four large pullets, which were set in the middle; and the second and third, placed on each side, were a fat roasted goose and boiled pigeons, all dressed very neatly, and 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 sent up a dessert of all sorts of dried sweetmeats,and all the fruits then in season, as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, &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, brought bottles and glasses.
Then Abon Hassan, sitting down with the pretended Moussel merchant again, filled out a glass of wine, before he touched the dessert; and holding it out in his hand, said to the caliph, You know, sir, that the cock never drinks before he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; so I invite you to follow my example. I do not know what you may think; for my part, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine: come, 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 by him, said, Now I like you, you are an honest fellow; I am mightily taken with your pleasant temper, and expect you should fill me as much. Abon Hassan, as soon as he had drunk, filled the caliph’s glass, and giving it to him, Here, sir, said he, taste this wine; I will warrant it good. I am very well persuaded, replied the caliph, laughing, that you know how to make choice of the best. O, replied Abon Hassan, while the caliph was taking off his glass, one may easily find that you know what good living is, and have seen the world. Alas! how happy is my house in your presence, and how overjoyed am I for meeting with a man of so much merit.
The caliph, who was naturally a merry man, was mightily diverted with these sallies of Abon Hassan, and took great pleasure in promoting drinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when that began to work, he might penetrate so far into his discourse as to satisfy his curiosity. Therefore, to enter into conversation, he asked him his name, his business, andhow he spent his life. My name, sir, replied he, is Abon Hassan: my father, whom I buried, was a merchant of Bagdad; and though he was not the richest, yet he lived very well. When he died, he left me enough in my station to live free from ambition; but as he always kept a very strict hand over me in his life-time, I was willing, when he was gone, to make up the time I thought I had lost.
But notwithstanding, continued Abon Hassan, in this I was more prudent than most young people are, who give themselves unto debauchery without any thought, and who reduce themselves to the utmost poverty, and are forced to do penance all the rest of their lives after. Now I, to avoid this misfortune, divided what I had left me in two parts, and with one bought an estate, with a resolution not to finger my rents at that time; and kept the other in ready money to pursue my extravagances with. I associated myself with young people of my age, and with my ready money, which I spent profusely, treated them every day; and, in short, spared for no sort of pleasure. But these feastings did not last long; for by that time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of my cash, and then all my friends vanished. I made a visit to every one of them, and represented to them the miserable condition I was in, but none of them would relieve me. Upon this, I renounced their friendship, and retrenched so far as to live within the compass of my income, and obliged myself to keep company with none but the first stranger I could meet with, coming that day into Bagdad, and to entertain him but one night. I have told you the rest before; and I thank my good fortune this day for meeting with a stranger of so much worth.
The caliph was very well satisfied with this information, and said to Abon Hassan, I cannot enough commend the measures you have taken, and the prudencewith which you have acted, by forsaking your debauchery; a conduct rarely to be met with in young persons; and I esteem you the more for being so just to yourself as you have been. It was a slippery path you trode in; and I cannot enough admire, how, after having seen the end of your ready money, you had so great a command over yourself not to enter upon your estate. In short, I must own I envy your happiness: you are the only happy man in the world, to enjoy every day the company of some one honest man, with whom you can discourse freely and agreeably, and to whom you give an opportunity to declare, wherever he goes, how handsomely he was received by you. But we talk too long without drinking; come drink, and pour out to me.
In this manner the caliph and Abon Hassan entertained each other, drinking and talking of indifferent matters till the night was pretty far advanced; when the caliph, pretending to be fatigued after his voyage, told his host he stood in need of a little rest; but, added he, that I may not deprive you of yours, before we part, because to-morrow I may be gone before you are stirring, I would be glad to show you how sensible I am of your civility, and the kind and obliging hospitality you have shown me. The only thing that troubles me is, that I know not which way to pay my acknowledgment; therefore I beg of you to let me understand how I may, and you shall see I will not be ungrateful; for certainly you must have some business in which you may be served, or must want something which you could wish for. Speak freely, and declare your mind; for, though I am but a merchant, it may be in mine or some friend’s power to oblige you.
To these offers of the caliph, Abon Hassan, taking him still for a Moussel merchant, replied, I am very well persuaded, good sir, that it is not out of a complimentthat you make me these generous tenders; but, upon the word of an honest man, I have nothing that troubles me, no business nor desires, and want not any thing. I have not the least ambition, as I told you before, but am very well satisfied with my condition. Therefore, I can only thank you for your obliging proffers, and the honour you have done me to come and take a slight repast with me. Yet I must tell you, pursued Abon Hassan, there is one thing gives me great uneasiness. You know the town of Bagdad is divided into several parts and divisions, to each of which there belongs a mosque, and an iman to read prayers at certain hours. The iman of the division I live in is an old man, of an austere countenance, and the greatest hypocrite in the world. This man, and four old men of this neighbourhood, who are people of the same stamp, meet every day at the iman’s house; there they vent their slander, calumny, and malice against me and the whole division, to the disturbance of the public peace of the neighbourhood, and the promotion of dissension. Some they threaten, others they rail against; and, in short, would be lords paramount, and have every one govern himself according to their caprice; and, at the same time, know not how to govern themselves. Indeed, I would have them meddle with nothing but their Alcoran, and let the world live quietly.
Well, I suppose, said the caliph, you would willingly put a stop to this disorder. You have guessed it, answered Abon Hassan; and the only thing I should desire, would be to be caliph only for one day, in the stead of our sovereign lord and master Haroun Alraschid, the commander of the faithful. What would you do if you were? said the caliph. I would make them examples, answered Abon Hassan, to the satisfaction of all honest men. I would punish the four old men with each a hundred bastinadoes on thesoles of their feet, and the iman with four hundred, to learn them not to disturb and abuse their neighbours any more.
The caliph was extremely well pleased with this thought of Abon Hassan’s; and, as he was a prince who loved adventures, he fancied to make this a very singular one. Indeed, said he, I approve very much of your wish, which I see proceeds from an upright mind, that cannot bear to see the malice of wicked people go unpunished. I could like to see it take effect, and that is not so impossible a thing as you imagine. I am persuaded that the caliph would willingly put his authority for twenty-four hours into your hands, if he knew your good intentions, and the just use you would make of it. I see, said Abon Hassan, you laugh at my foolish fancy; and the caliph himself would laugh at my extravagance too if he knew it; but yet it would be a means of informing him of the iman’s and his companions’ behaviour, and he might chastise them.
Heaven forbid, replied the caliph, that I, who have been so handsomely entertained by you, should laugh at you; neither do I believe, as much a stranger as I am, that the caliph would be displeased. But let us lay this discourse aside; it is almost midnight, and time to go to bed. With all my heart, said Abon Hassan, I would not be any hindrance to your going to rest; but there is still some wine in the bottle, and, if you please, we will drink it off first. The only thing that I have to recommend to you is, that, when you go out in the morning, if I am not up, you will give yourself the trouble of shutting the door after you, which the caliph promised; and while Abon Hassan was talking, took the bottle and two glasses, and filled his own first, saying, Here is a cup of thanks to you; and then filling the other, put artfully a littlepowder, which he had about him, into it, and giving it to Abon Hassan, said, you have taken the pains to fill for me all this night, and it is the least I can do to save you the trouble once; come, drink to our good repose.
Abon Hassan took the glass, and, to show his guest with how much pleasure he received the honour he did him, whipped it off at once; but had scarcely set the glass upon the table before the powder began to work, and he fell into so sound a sleep, that his head knocked against his knees. The caliph ordered the slave that he had brought along with him, and who came again into the room as soon as he had supped, to take him upon his back, and follow him; but to be sure to observe the house, that he might know it again when he should bring him back; and in this manner the caliph, followed by the slave with Abon Hassan on his back, went out of the house, but without shutting the door after him, as Abon Hassan desired, and went directly to his palace, and, by a backdoor, into his own apartment, where all the officers of his apartment were waiting for him, whom he ordered to undress him, and put him in his bed, which they immediately performed.
Then the caliph sent for all the officers and ladies of the palace, and said to them, I would have all those whose business it is to attend my levee wait to-morrow morning upon this man who lies in my bed, and pay the same respect to him as to myself, and obey him in whatever he commands; let him be refused in nothing that he asks for, and be spoken to and answered in every thing he says or does, as if he was the commander of the faithful. In short, I expect you to look upon him as the true caliph, and neglect not the least circumstance.
The officers and ladies presently understood thatthe caliph had a mind to divert himself, and made low bows to show their obedience, and then withdrew, every one full of the part they were to act.
Then he sent for the grand vizier: Giafar, said he, I have sent for you to instruct you, and to prevent your being surprised to-morrow when you come to an audience, to see this man, that is laid here in my bed, seated on my throne in my royal robes: accost him with the same reverence and respect you pay to myself; observe, and punctually execute, whatever he bids you do, the same as if I commanded you, even if his liberality should extend so far as to empty all the coffers in my treasury; and remember to acquaint all my emirs and huissirs, all the officers without the palace, to pay him the same honour at audience as the commander of the believers himself; and to carry on the matter so well, that he might not perceive the least thing that may interrupt this joke which I am diverting myself with.
Afterwards the grand vizier retired, and the caliph went to bed in another apartment; and ordered Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, to take care to manage things so well, that he might see how Abon Hassan would use the power and authority of the caliph for the time he desired to have it; and, above all, charged him to awake him at the usual hour, before he awakened Abon Hassan, because he had a mind to be present when he rose.
Mesrour failed not to do as the caliph had commanded; and, as soon as the caliph went into the room where Abon Hassan lay, he placed himself in a little closet, from whence he could see all that passed. All the officers and ladies who were to attend Abon Hassan’s levee, took their posts according to their rank, with great silence, and discharged themselves as punctually of their offices as if the caliph had been to rise.