Chapter II: Part 2

Professor Carlyle gives the following instance of the power of music over the mind of this monarch: Haroun Alraschid having quarrelled with his mistress, Meridah, left her in a rage, and refused to see her any more. The lady was in despair, and knew not how to bring about a reconciliation. In the mean time, the vizier Jaafar, (Giafar) who had always been the friend of Meridah, sent for Almousely; and giving him a song composed for the occasion, desired him to perform it before the caliph, with all the pathos he was master of. The musician obeyed; and such were the powers he possessed, that Haroun’s anger was instantly appeased; he rushed into the presence of Meridah, and taking all the blame of the quarrel, entreated her to forgive him, and bury every thing that had passed in eternal oblivion. Ebn Khalican, the historian, adds, that both Haroun and the lady instantly rewarded the minister and musician with a considerable present.

As the family of the Barmecides is mentioned very often, in several parts of this work, it may not be improper to give a slight sketch of them, especially as it was Haroun Alraschid who not only increased the power and interest which they first acquired under his father, but who also effected their ruin. The family of Barmec was descended from the ancient Persian monarchs, and was very rich; but it was at the court of Bagdad that the Barmecides arrived at their full splendour. The character of the first, who was thus distinguished, was that of a man possessed of great virtue and great talents. He was called Yahia Ben Khaled, the same that was celebrated in the preceding verses; and that was appointed by Mahadi governor to his son Haroun Alraschid, who, when he succeeded to the throne, appointed him grand vizier; and when old age obliged him to resign that office, his second son, Jaafer, (Giafar) was appointed in his place. The abilities of the son equalled those of the father. “He was the most admired writer, and most eloquent speaker, of his age;” and while in office, “he displayed the accuracy of a man of business and the comprehensive ideas of a statesman.” His former acquirements, however, caused him to become the companion, as well as the minister, of the caliph, who at last grew so much attached to him, that he appointed his elder brother, Fadhel, grand vizier in his place, that the affairs of the state might not deprive him of the pleasure of his society. For seventeen years these brothers were all-powerful; when, at once, the whole family were involved in disgrace; and the ill-treatment they experienced must eternally stain the character of Haroun. The cause of their disgrace is uncertain; Professor Carlyle gives the following as most probable. “The Khaliph had a sister, called Abassa, of whom he was passionately fond, and whose company he preferred to every thing but the conversation of Jaafer. These two pleasures he would fain have joined together by carrying Jaafar with him in his visits to Abassa; but the laws of the haram, which forbad any one, except a near relation, from being introduced there, made that impossible; and he was obliged to be absent either from his sister or his favourite. At length he discovered a method, which he hoped would enable him to enjoy, at the same time, the society of these two persons, who were so dear to him. This was to unite Jaafar and Abassa in marriage. They were married accordingly, but with this express condition, that they should never meet but in the presence of the khaliph.

“Their interviews, however, were very frequent; and as neither could be insensible of the amiable qualities which the other possessed, a mutual affection took place between them. Blinded by their passion they forgot the khaliph’s injunction, and the consequences of their interview were but too apparent. Abassa was delivered of a son, whom they privately sent to be educated at Mecca.

“For some time their amour was concealed from Alraschid; but the khaliph having at length received intelligence of it, he gave way to his rage, and determined to take the most severe revenge. In consequence of this cruel resolve, he immediately commanded Jaafar to be put to death, and the whole race of Barmec to be deprived of their possessions, and thrown into prison. These orders were obeyed. Jaafer was beheaded in the antichamber of the royal apartment, whither he had come to request an interview with the implacable Haroun: and his father and brothers, perished in confinement.” The destruction of this family was looked upon as a general calamity; “all of whom,” says an Eastern writer, “enjoyed the singular felicity of being loved as much, when in the plenitude of their power, as in a private station; and of being praised as much, after their disgrace and ruin, as when they were at the summit of their prosperity.” The following verses were written on their fall:

No, Barmec! time hath never shewn
So sad a change of wayward fate;
Nor sorrowing mortals ever known
A grief so true, a loss so great.

Spouse of the world! Thy soothing breast
Did balm to every woe afford;
And now no more by thee caress’d,
The widow’d world bewails her lord.

The following lines were spoken extempore by Ibrahim Ben Adham, a hermit of Syria, who was equally admired for his piety and his poetry, upon meeting Haroun Alraschid going to Mecca with a magnificent train, as Ibrahim himself was returning from his pilgrimage to that place, which he performed quite alone, and without making any provision for his journey.

Religion's gems can ne'er adorn
The flimsy robe by Pleasure worn,
Its feeble texture soon would tear,
And give those jewels to the air.

Thrice happy they, who seek th’ abode
Of peace and pleasure in their God!
Who spurn the world, its joys despise,
And grasp at bliss beyond the skies.

Although the little poem, which comes next has no apparent connection with any particular part of this work, I cannot help inserting it from that beautiful vein of feeling which runs through every line. It was sung before the caliph Wathek, the grandson of Haroun Alraschid, as a specimen of the author’s talents.

THE ADIEU.

BY ABOU MOHAMMED.

The boatmen shout, “’Tis time to part,
No longer we can stay;”
’Twas then Maimuna taught my heart
How much a glance could say.

With trembling steps to me she came;
“Farewell,” she would have cried,
But ere her lips the words could frame,
In half form’d sounds it died.

Then bending down, with looks of love,
Her arms she round me flung,
And, as the gale hangs on the grove,
Upon my breast she hung.

My willing arms embrac'd the maid,
My heart with raptures beat;
While she but wept the more, and said,
Would we had never met.”

In these times, when from the difference of manners, and a variety of other circumstances and causes, even the most successful poets cannot boast of the friendship, and profuse liberality of kings, the manner in which the monarchs of the East rewarded them, is almost incredible. The presents, which Abou Teman Habib, a native of Damascus, but who spent his life chiefly at the court of Bagdad, is reported to have received, are enormous. He is said to have had a present of fifty thousand pieces of gold for a single poem. He died before he was forty, and his early death was predicted by a contemporary writer, in these words: “The mind of Abou Teman must soon wear out his body, as the blade of an Indian scimitar destroys its scabbard.” When his mistress accused him of extravagance, he addressed her in the following words:

Ungenerous and mistaken maid,
To scorn me thus because I'm poor!
Canst thou a liberal hand upbraid
For dealing round some worthless ore?

To spare’s the wish of little souls,
The great but gather to bestow;
Yon current down the mountain rolls,
And stagnates in the swamp below.

To these specimens of the elegant and pathetic I cannot avoid adding the three sweet stanzas of Ebn Alrumi, who flourished in the tenth century of the Christian æra, on a lady weeping.

When I beheld thy blue eyes shine
Thro’ the bright drops that pity drew,
I saw beneath those tears of thine
A blue eyed violet bath’d in dew.

The violet ever scents the gale,
Its hues adorn the fairest wreath,
But sweetest through a dewy veil
Its colours glow, its odours breath.

And thus thy charms in brightness rise--
When wit and pleasure round thee play,
When mirth sits smiling in thine eyes,
Who but admires their sprightly ray?

But when thro’ pity’s flood they gleam,
Who but must love their soften’d beam?

It was not among the troubadours and provencals of France, and the improvisatori of Italy, that the custom of extempore recitation alone existed. It flourished and was carried to great perfection in Arabia during the caliphat, and in many other Oriental nations. The Arabians indeed are said to have been the inventors both of extempore recitation and of rhyme, from whom it came to the Spaniards, and thence into France and Italy. [i] And in all the Oriental nations it was almost constantly accompanied with music. We have, throughout the Arabian Nights, continual examples of this; and there never seems to have been a grand entertainment, where these recitations, as well as dancing, were not introduced. As a specimen of this, and it is the last I shall insert, I have been tempted to give the following extempore verses by Ebn Alramacram, the occasion of which is said, by Abulfeda, to have been as follows: Carawash, sultan of Mousel, being in a party with his principal musician, Barkaidy, his vizier, Ebn Fadhi, his chamberlain, Jaber, and Ebn Alramacram, the poet, he determined to amuse himself at the expense of his companions. He therefore commanded Alramacram to recite some verses, which, at the same time that they satirised his officers, should compliment himself. The poet obeyed: and taking the night which happened to be stormy, for his subject, instantly replied as follows:

Lowering as Barkaidy’s face
The wintry night came in,
Cold as the music of his bass,
And lengthen’d as his chin.

Sleep from my aching eyes had fled,
And kept as far apart,
As sense from Ebn Fadhi’s head,
Or virtue from his heart.

The dubious paths my footsteps balk'd,
I slipp’d along the sod,
As if on Jaber’s faith I’d walk’d,
Or on his truth had trod.

At length the rising king of day
Burst on the gloomy wood,
Like Carawash’s eye, whose ray
Dispenses every good.

In India too, at this time, their exists a different species of improvisatori. Instead of having newspapers, as with us, to accompany the breakfast table, (there are indeed newspapers in the East, but they are chiefly for the use of Europeans,) where the fatigue of reading would be too great for Asiatic enjoyment, there is a set of men, whose regular profession it is to go round and report the news of every sort, that may have happened. And to this they constantly add the knowledge of a variety of stories, tales, and apologues, which, at the desire of their employer, they recite with great animation, humour, and action, as long as he wishes to be amused. And while this is going on, he attends to the reciter or not, while he enjoys his hooka, takes his coffee, or reclines at ease on his sofa. Many of these stories also are of a similar nature to some in the following work. And instances are not uncommon, in which these men have continued such recitation without any cessation for four or five hours together.

I am fearful, I may have dwelt too long upon this subject; but the beauty of the poetry has led me on; and a true lover of poetry, like a true poet, must be enthusiastic, and enthusiasm often carries a person beyond the strict limits of prudence: the pleasure also of selection was too great to be slightly indulged. My only difficulty was to fix upon so few, where all were excellent.

Before I conclude this Preface, there are two other points perhaps necessary to be mentioned. In the first place, there are in M. Galland various errors and contradictions with respect to time and place. Some few of these I have taken the liberty to correct, others I thought it best not to alter; trusting that every candid reader will allow for such errors, which, with respect to the work at large, are of little moment. Secondly, in respect to names; I have constantly followed M. Galland, both because these names are already best known, and because other writers do not agree about the orthography of them. Whether, therefore, we take the Mahomet of Professor White and M. Galland, the Mohammed of Carlyle, or the Mahummud of Scot; whether we say the caliph and sultaun Haroon al Rasheed with the last, or the khaliph and sultan Haroun Alraschid with Carlyle, is in my opinion a matter of little moment. There is one thing, which would be much better; and that is, for all writers to adhere to one mode, whether it comes nearest to the pronunciation in the original language, or not.

TO THE AUTHOR OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.

Bless’d child of Genius, whose fantastic sprite
Rides on the vivid lightnings flash, or roves
Thro’ flow’ry vallies and Elysian groves;
Or, borne on vent’rous pinions, takes its flight

To those dread realms, where, hid from mortal sight,
Fierce Genii roam, or where, in bright alcoves,
Mild Fairies reign, and woo their secret loves;
Whate’er thy theme, whether the magic might

Of the stern kings, that dwell ’mid ocean’s roar,
Or Sindbad’s perils, or the cruel wiles
Of Afric’s curst enchanters, charm us more;
Or ought more wond’rous still our ear beguiles;

Well pleased we listen to thy fabling lore,
And truth itself with less attraction smiles.

THO. RUSSELL.

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.

IT is recorded in the chronicles of the Sassanians, [1] those ancient monarchs of Persia who extended their empire over the continent and islands of India, beyond the Ganges, and almost to China, that there was an illustrious prince of that powerful house, who was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was feared by the surrounding states, from the report of his bravery, and the reputation of his hardy and well-disciplined army. He had two sons: the elder, called Schahriar, was endowed with all the virtues of his father, nor was Schahzenan, the younger, less deserving of praise.

This king, after a reign as glorious as it was long, sunk into the tomb of his ancestors, and Schahriar ascended the throne. Although his brother was excluded by the laws of the empire from all power, and became nothing more than a subject, yet the exalted and magnificent situation of Schahriar gave rise to no envious or discontented thoughts: his whole endeavor was to please and make Schahriar happy. This was by no means difficult. The sultan, who was always fond of his brother, was delighted with his attention; and wishing that he should partake of his own power and wealth, he bestowed on him the kingdom of Great Tartary. Schahzenan went immediately and took possession of his empire, and fixed his residence at Samarcand, the chief city.

These two kings had been separated about ten years, when Schahriar, ardently wishing to see his brother, determined to send an ambassador to him, with an invitation to his court. For this purpose he fixed on his first vizier, who went with a splendid and appropriate retinue. When he approached Samarcand, Schahzenan, being acquainted with his arrival, immediately went out to meet him, with all his court most magnificently dressed for the occasion; so great was the honor paid to the minister of the sultan. The king of Tartary received him with signs of great joy; and instantly inquired after the sultan, his brother. Having satisfied his curiosity, the vizier unfolded the purpose of his embassy. Schahzenan, who was much affected at the kindness and recollection of his brother, then addressed the vizier in these words:

“Sage vizier, the sultan, my brother, does me too much honor; he could not propose any thing more agreeable to me. It is impossible that his wish to see me can exceed my anxious desire of again beholding him; time has not weakened my regard any more than his. My kingdom is tranquil, and I require only ten days to prepare for my departure: for this short time you need not have the trouble of entering the city: pitch your tents, and remain in this place: I will take care and order every refreshment and accommodation for you and your whole train,” This was immediately done; and the king had scarcely returned to his palace, when the vizier saw an immense quantity of all sorts of provisions arrive, accompanied with rare and valuable presents.

In the mean time Schahzenan made every preparation for his journey. He dispatched with celerity his most pressing business: he established a regency to govern the kingdom during his absence, and put a minister, on whose abilities and fidelity he had the firmest reliance, at the head of it. At the end of ten days every thing was ready; he took a tender leave of the queen, his consort, and accompanied by such officers as he had appointed to attend him, left Samarcand in the evening. He proceeded directly to a royal pavilion, which had been erected near the vizier’s tent. Schahzenan remained in conversation with the ambassador till about midnight; but wishing once again to embrace his queen, whom he tenderly loved, he returned privately to the palace, and went directly to her apartment, who not expecting his return, had received into her chamber one of the lowest officers of the household. They had been in bed some time, and were both in the deepest sleep.

The king, thinking how agreeably the queen, of whose affection he had no doubt, would be surprised at his unexpected return, entered the chamber without making any noise. Conceive, then, his astonishment at seeing, by the lights which are always hung in the royal apartments, another man in her arms. He stood for an instant motionless, almost doubting his own eyes. Being, however, too certain of the truth. “Have I then,” said he to himself, “scarcely left my palace, or gone from under the walls of Samarcand, before they dare thus to disgrace me? Wretch! your crime shall not go unrequited. As king, it is my duty to punish the crimes that are committed within my states; as an offended husband, I ought to sacrifice you to my just resentment.” The unfortunate monarch, yielding to his first fury, drew his scimitar, and approaching the bed, with one stroke changed their sleep into death: then taking them up one after the other, he threw them from the window into the foss that surrounded the palace.

Having thus satisfied his revenge, he went from the city as he entered, and retired to his pavilion. On his arrival, without relating what had passed to any one, he ordered the tents to be struck, and began his journey. Every thing was soon ready, and it was scarcely day-light when they commenced their march to the sound of drums and other instruments. The whole train were filled with joy, except the king, who could think of nothing but his queen’s infidelity, and he became a prey to the deepest grief and melancholy during the whole journey.

When he approached the capital of the Indies, he perceived the sultan Schahriar and all his court coming out to greet him. What joyful sensations arose in their breasts at this fraternal meeting! They alighted and ran into each other’s arms: after a thousand expressions of regard, they remounted, and entered the city amidst the acclamations of the surrounding multitude. The sultan conducted the king, his brother, to a palace, which had been prepared for him. It communicated by a garden with his own; and was even more magnificent, as it was the spot where all the fêtes and splendid entertainments of the court were given; and it was now even increased in splendour by new and brilliant ornaments.

Schahriar immediately left the king of Tartary, in order that he might have time to bathe and change his dress; on his return from the bath he went immediately to him again. They seated themselves on a sofa, and as the courtiers, through respect, stood at a considerable distance, these two brothers conversed with each other at their ease, after so long an absence; and seemed even more united by affection than blood. They ate together at supper, and after their repast they again conversed, till Schahriar, perceiving the night far advanced, left his brother to repose.

The unfortunate Schahzenan retired to his couch; but if the presence of the sultan had for a while suspended his grief, it now returned with redoubled force. Instead of enjoying that rest he was so much in want of, the most agonizing reflection dwelt upon his mind. Every circumstance of his queen’s infidelity presented itself to his imagination with such violence, that it almost deprived him of his reason. Not being able to sleep, he arose, and giving way to these afflicting thoughts, they made such a deep impression of sorrow on his countenance, that the sultan could not fail of remarking it. “What cause of complaint,” thought he, “can the king of Tartary have? He cannot object the reception I have given him. I have received him as a brother whom I tenderly love; and I cannot reproach myself with any thing. Perhaps he feels a regret at the distance he is from his kingdom and his consort? If that indeed afflicts him, I must hasten the presents I am preparing for him, that he may set out, whenever he pleases, on his return to Samarcand.” This he immediately set about; and sent a part of the presents even the next day. These were composed of every thing rare, singular, and valuable, that India could produce. In the mean time the sultan endeavoured to amuse his brother by every species of pleasure; but the most splendid entertainments and gayest fêtes only served to increase his melancholy.

Schahriar having one morning given orders for a grand hunting party, at the distance of two days journey from the city, in a part of the country where there were plenty of stags, Schahzenan requested permission to remain in his palace, excusing himself on account of a slight indisposition. The sultan wishing to please him, gave him his choice, and went with all his court to partake of the sport. The king of Tartary was no sooner alone, than he shut himself up in his apartment. He seated himself at a window that looked over the garden; the view from thence, and the melody of the multitudes of birds, which had chosen that beautiful spot for their retreat, must have excited pleasant sensations in his breast, if he had been capable of feeling them: but totally absorbed and overwhelmed with the dreadful recollection of the queen’s infamous conduct, he more frequently lifted his eyes to heaven, complaining of his wretched fate, than fixed them on the beauties of the spot.

He remained thus occupied with his own melancholy thoughts, when his attention was roused by the following event. A secret door of the sultan’s palace suddenly opened, and out came twenty females; in the midst of whom were the sultana, who was easily distinguished by her superior manner. This princess, supposing the king of Tartary was engaged in the chase, approached without fear, even to the very windows of his apartments. The prince wishing, through curiosity, to observe them, placed himself at the window so as to see every thing that passed, without being at all seen. They who accompanied the sultana immediately threw off the long robes which they had first appeared in, and which entirely hid their faces. How great was his astonishment, when he saw, in this party, which he supposed to consist only of women, ten blacks, who each selected a mistress. Nor did the sultana, on her part, remain long without her lover. Clapping her hands, she called out, “Masoud, Masoud!” and another black instantly descended from a tree, and ran towards her.

Decency forbids us to enter into a detail of their conduct, nor is it at all necessary. Schahzenan saw enough to convince him that his brother had not less reason to complain than himself. The amusements of this amorous party lasted till midnight: they then bathed altogether in a large piece of water, and having put on their habits, they returned to the palace by the same secret door; and Masoud, who had come over the wall of the garden, escaped in the same way.

The whole of these transactions, which passed under his own eyes, caused many reflections in the king’s mind. “How absurd,” said he, “to think, that my misfortune is singular and uncommon! It is the inevitable destiny of all husbands, since even the sultan, my brother, the sovereign of so many states, the greatest monarch in the world, cannot avoid it. What weakness then in me to be thus affected at my own lot, and remain a prey to melancholy: it shall be so no longer. The recollection of a misfortune so common to all men, shall vex me no more, nor disturb my repose.” In short, from this moment, he ceased to repine. He had delayed going to supper till the whole of this extraordinary scene was over; he then ordered it to be brought, and eat with a better appetite than he had before done since his departure from Samarcand, and even enjoyed a fine concert that was performed during the repast.

From this time he resumed his former good humour, and when he heard of the sultan’s return, he went and paid his respects to him, with an air of gaiety and satisfaction. Schahriar, at first, took no notice of this change. He thought only of hinting at the refusal of his brother to accompany him to the chase; and without allowing him time to reply, he gave him an account of the great number of stags and other animals they had hunted, and the pleasure it had afforded. Schahzenan, having listened with great attention, took his turn to speak. As melancholy or chagrin no longer clouded his mind, his natural vivacity and wit became apparent in a thousand lively sallies.

The sultan, who expected to find him in the same state in which he left him, was delighted with his gaiety. “I thank heaven, my brother,” he cried, “for the happy change which has taken place during my absence. I am indeed truly rejoiced at it; but I have one favor to request, that I trust you will not refuse me.”--“What can I refuse you,” replied Schahzenan, “you may command me in every thing. Speak; I am impatient to know what you wish of me.” --“Since you have been at my court,” resumed the sultan, “I have only seen you a prey to the most gloomy melancholy, which I have tried, but in vain, to dissipate by every species of amusement in my power. I thought that your grief might arise from the distance you were from your kingdom; I imagined, also, that love might have its share, and that the queen of Samarcand, whom you had selected for her incomparable beauty, was partly the cause. I know not whether my conjectures were right or wrong, and it was for this very reason, and from the fear of displeasing you, that I did not importune you. Soon after, without my having in the least contributed to it, I find you, on my return from a hunting party, in the highest spirits; your mind quite free from that dark cloud which hung over it, and prevented all enjoyment. Tell me then, I intreat you, why you were so melancholy, and why you are so no longer?”

At this speech the king of Tartary mused for some time, meditating what to answer. At length he said, “you are my sultan and my master, yet do not, I beg of you, compel me to give you the satisfaction you demand.”--“Yes, yes, my brother,” cried the sultan, “you must comply; I wish it, do not therefore refuse me.”--Schahzenan could no longer resist his intreaties. “Well then, my brother,” said he, “since you command it, you shall be satisfied.” He then related the infidelity of the queen of Samarcand; and when he had finished his recital, “This,” continued he, “was the cause of my melancholy, was it not a sufficient one?”--“Oh, my brother,” cried the sultan, in a voice that shewed how much he sympathised with him, “what a dreadful tale have you unfolded to me! with what impatience have I listened to you. I praise you for having punished the wretches; and no one can reproach you for it; as it is only just. And I own, had I been in your place, I should perhaps have been less easily satisfied. I should not have been contented with taking away the life of one woman, but should have sacrificed a thousand to my resentment. I am not astonished at your melancholy; the cause was too powerful and acute not to yield to it. Heavens! what an adventure: your fate surely is most singular, nor can have ever happened to any one besides. Since, however, it has pleased God to afford you consolation, and as I am sure that it is equally as well founded as was the cause of your grief, inform me, I beg, of that also, and make me acquainted with the whole.”

Upon this point Schahzenan was in more difficulty than before, from the interest his brother seemed to take in it; but he was obliged to comply with his earnest request: “I am going to obey you,” said he, “since you absolutely require it; yet I fear my compliance will cause you more pain than even I have felt; but you must attach the fault to yourself alone, since you compel me to reveal what I wished to remain buried in eternal oblivion.”--“What you tell me,” interrupted Schahriar, “only heightens my curiosity; hasten to discover this secret, whatever may be its nature.” The king of Tartary, being no longer able to prevent it, detailed the whole that he had seen; the disguises of the blacks, the conduct of the sultana and her women; nor was Masoud forgotten. “After having witnessed this infamous scene,” continued he, “I began to think that all women were naturally of this disposition, and were unable to resist their inclinations. I was no sooner of this opinion, than it appeared to me a great weakness in any man to suffer his happiness to rest on their fidelity. This reflection produced many others, and I was, at length, convinced, that it was best to think of it no more. It has cost me some trouble, but I have accomplished it; and if you are of my opinion, you will follow my example.”

Notwithstanding the excellence of this advice, the sultan was unable to follow it. “What,” said he, furiously, “is it possible that the sultana of the Indies is capable of such base prostitution? No, no, my brother, I cannot believe what you have told me, unless I were to see it myself. It is a deception; you have been imposed upon; and it is too important a matter not to require positive proof.”--“If,” replied Schahzenan, “you wish to be witness to the fact, it will not be difficult to accomplish it. You have only to give orders for another hunting party, and after we have both left the city, with the court in our train, we will remain in our pavilions during the day, and at night we will return alone into my apartment. I am too certain that you will, during the next day, observe what I have before seen.” The sultan approved of the plan, and immediately ordered the party, so that the pavilions were erected that very day in the appointed place.

The two princes set out on the following morning with all their train. They arrived at the camp, and remained there till night. Schahriar then called his grand vizier, and without discovering his intention, commanded him to take his place during his absence, and to suffer no person to leave the camp upon any account whatever. As soon as the sultan had given these orders, he and his brother got on their horses, passed unknown through the camp, entered the city, and went directly to the palace occupied by Schahzenan. They then retired to rest, but rose early in the morning, and took their station at the same window where the king of Tartary had observed the former scene with the blacks. They enjoyed the freshness of the morning, for the sun had not yet risen; and during their conversation they frequently cast their eyes towards the secret door. At length it was opened, and to sum up all in a few words, the sultana, with her women, and the ten disguised blacks, instantly appeared, and having called Masoud, the sultan was soon too fatally convinced of his disgraceful misfortune. “Oh God!” he cried, “what indignity, what horror! is it possible, that the wife of so powerful a sovereign as I am, can be capable of such infamy. What prince, after this, can dare to call himself happy. Ah, my brother,” added he, embracing him, “let us renounce the world; fidelity is banished from it, and if it flatters us one moment, it betrays us the next. Let us leave our dominions and all the pomp that surrounds us, and in foreign kingdoms pass an obscure life, and endeavour to conceal our disgrace.” Schahzenan did not approve of this plan; but seeing the agony which his brother was then in, he dared not oppose it. “I have no other will than yours, my brother,” replied he, “I am ready to follow you wherever you please; but promise me, that you will return whenever you meet with any one who shall be more unfortunate than we are.”--“I do promise you,” replied the sultan, “but I very much doubt whether we shall ever meet with such a one.”--“I am of a different opinion,” added the king of Tartary, “and our journey may be shorter than you expect.”--They then departed secretly from the palace, and took a different road from that by which they came. They travelled as long as it was light, and passed the first night under some trees. As soon as the morning broke, they got up and resumed their journey, till they came to a beautiful meadow near the sea-shore, along which, at certain distances, were some very large and thick trees. They seated themselves under one of them to rest and take some refreshment, during which the infidelity of their respective queens became the subject of their discourse.

They had not long conversed together, when they heard a most horrible noise very near them, towards the sea; and a sudden loud and lamentable cry that filled them with dread. The sea itself immediately opened, and they observed an immense black column rising out of it, whose top seemed lost in the clouds. This sight redoubled their fears; they instantly got up, and climbed to the top of a tree, which appeared likely to conceal them. They were scarcely got there, when looking towards the spot from whence the noise came, and where the sea had opened, they observed, that the black column unfolded itself, as it were, and approached the shore. For a moment, they could not conceive what it was, but it very soon became evident.

It was one of those wicked genii who are the avowed enemies to mankind. He was black and hideous, and in form like an immense giant. He carried on his head a large glass case, secured by four locks of bright steel. With this he came into the meadow, and set it down at the foot of the very tree in which the princes were hidden. They, knowing the great danger they were in, gave themselves up for lost.

This wicked genius then sat down near the case, and having opened it with four keys, which were suspended from his girdle, a female, superbly dressed, of a fine figure and incomparable beauty, immediately came out. The monster made her sit by his side, and casting an amorous look at her, he said, “Lady, thou most accomplished of all that are admired for their beauty, whom I carried away on the very day of thy nuptials, and to whom I have been continually constant since, suffer me to repose a few moments near thee; feeling myself overcome with sleep, I sought this place to indulge in a little rest.” Having said this, he let his immense head fall on her lap; and stretching out his legs, which extended almost to the sea, he immediately fell asleep, and began to snore, till the very shore echoed with the noise.

The lady, raising her eyes by chance, perceived the princes in the tree, and immediately made a sign with her hand for them to come down without making any noise. When they found they were thus discovered, their fears became more violent. They entreated her, by signs, to permit them to remain where they were; but she, on the contrary, having gently lifted up the giant’s head, and placed it softly on the ground, got up, and said to them in a low but animated voice, “Descend; it is absolutely necessary that you should come down to me.” In vain did they endeavour, by various methods, to make her comprehend how much they dreaded her hideous companion:-- “Come down,” continued she, in the same tone, “for if you hesitate, I will wake him, and request him to destroy you.”

These words so much alarmed them, that they began to descend, though with all possible precaution. When they were on the ground, the lady took them by the hand, and leading them among some trees, she directly made a proposal to them of a nature not the most modest. At first they refused her; but she obliged them by fresh threats to comply with her wishes. Having gratified her inclination, she observed, that they had each a ring on their fingers, which she requested of them. She had no sooner received them, than taking a small box out of a parcel, that contained her wardrobe, she drew from it a string of rings of various sorts, and shewing it to the princes, said, “Do you know what this means?”--“We do not,” they answered, “but it remains for you to inform us.”--“They are,” she replied, “the rings of all those on whom I have bestowed my favors. There are exactly ninety-eight, and yours, which I have requested for that purpose, will make a hundred, which I wished to accomplish. Observe,” continued she, “the hundred lovers that I have now had, in spite of all the precautions and vigilance of this wretch, who never quits me. Let him shut me up in his glass case, and conceal me at the bottom of the sea, if he pleases, I will not fail to make his caution useless. You may know by this, that when once a female has formed any scheme, neither husband nor lover can prevent its accomplishment. Men had better put no restraint upon women, and it would be the means of preserving them chaste.” The lady, having said this, added their rings to the list. She then seated herself as before, replaced the head of the genius upon her lap, and made a sign to the princes to depart.

They immediately retreated by the same road They came, and when they were out of sight of the lady and her formidable companion, Schahriar said to Schahzenan, “what think you, brother, of this adventure which hath happened to us? Has not this genius got a truly faithful mistress? Do you not agree, that nothing can equal the malice of women? “I do,” replied the king of Tartary, “and you must allow also, that the genius has much more to complain of, and is more unfortunate than we are. Since, therefore, we have found what we were in search of, let us return to our dominions, and not suffer this to prevent us from forming a fresh marriage. With respect to myself, I know by what method I expect to preserve inviolate the fidelity I think due to me. I will not now explain myself, but you shall one day learn; and I have no doubt but you will follow my example.” The sultan was of the same opinion as his brother, and pursuing their journey, they arrived, towards the end of the third night, at the camp.

The news of the sultan’s return being known, the courtiers hastened early in the morning to the royal pavilion. He received them in a more lively manner than usual, and gratified all of them by his gracious reception. He then declared, that he should proceed no further, and ordering them to mount, he immediately set out on his return.

The sultan was no sooner arrived, than he hastened to the apartment of the sultana. He ordered her to be bound, and having delivered her to his grand vizier, he commanded him to have her strangled. This sentence was executed by him without enquiring into the crime for which she suffered. The indignant prince did not stop here; he beheaded all the sultana’s women with his own hand. After this rigorous proceeding, being persuaded that a truly virtuous woman did not exist, he resolved, in order to prevent a possibility of infidelity for the future, to marry every night, and have his mistress strangled in the morning. Having imposed this cruel law upon himself, he swore to observe it immediately on the departure of the king, his brother; who soon after took his leave, and returned to his own kingdom, loaded with the most magnificent presents.

When Schahzenan was gone, the sultan failed not to order his grand vizier to bring him the daughter of one of his generals. The vizier obeyed; and the sultan, having passed the night with her, delivered her into the hands of the vizier for execution, and commanded him to procure another against the following night. However repugnant these commands might be to the vizier, he was obliged to submit. He then brought the sultan the daughter of a subaltern officer, who, as usual, suffered death the next morning. The next was the daughter of a citizen. And thus every day a maiden was married, and every day a wife was sacrificed.

The report of this unexampled inhumanity spread a universal consternation through the city. In one place a wretched father was in tears for the loss of his daughter; in another, the air resounded with the groans of tender mothers, who dreaded lest the same fate should attend their offspring. In this manner, instead of the praises and blessings with which, till now, they loaded their monarch, all his subjects poured out imprecations on his head.

The grand vizier, who, as has been mentioned, was the unwilling agent of this horrid injustice, had two daughters; the elder was called Scheherazadè, and the youngest Dinarzadè. The latter was by no means deficient in merit; but Scheherazadè was possessed of a degree of courage beyond her sex, joined to an extent of knowledge and degree of penetration that was truly astonishing. She had read much, and was possessed of so great a memory, that she never forgot any thing she had once perused. She had applied also, with much success, to philosophy, to medicine, to history, and to the arts; and made better verses than the most celebrated poets of the time. Besides this, her beauty was incomparable; and her virtuous disposition crowned all those valuable qualities.

The vizier was passionately fond of so deserving a daughter. As they were conversing together one day, she addressed him in these words: “I have a favor to ask of you, my father; and I entreat you not to refuse me.”--“I will not refuse you,” replied he, “provided the request be just and reasonable.”--“It is impossible,” added Scheherazadè, “to be more just, as you will judge from the motives I have in making it. My design is to put a stop to this dreadful barbarity which the sultan exercises over the inhabitants of this city. I wish to dispel the just apprehension which all mothers entertain for the safety of their daughters.”--“Your intention, my child” said the vizier, “is very laudable; but the evil which you wish to cure seems to me without a remedy; how would you set about it?”--“Since, by your means,” replied Scheherazadè, “the sultan celebrates a fresh marriage every day, I conjure you, by the tender affection you have for me, to procure me the honor of his bed.” This speech filled the vizier with horror. “O God!” cried he eagerly, “have you lost your senses, my daughter, that you make me so dangerous a request? Do you know, that the sultan has solemnly sworn, he will receive no one to his bed but for one night; and that he regularly orders her to be carried to execution in the morning? Can you then think of being allied to him? Recollect to what your indiscreet zeal exposes you.”--“Yes, my father,” replied this virtuous damsel, “I am aware of the danger I run, but it does not deter me from my purpose. If I die, my death will be glorious; and, if I succeed, I shall render my country an important service.”--“No, no,” replied the vizier, “do not suppose, that any thing you can urge will induce me to comply with your wishes, and put you in so dreadful a situation. Can I, alas! obey the sultan, when he orders me to plunge a poniard into your bosom. What horrible employment for a father! If you do not yourself fear death, at least hesitate to inflict on me the pain of being the wretched instrument, and embruing my hand with your blood.”--“Still, my father,” said Scheherazadè, “I implore you to grant my request.”--“Your obstinacy,” replied he, “excites my anger; why can you wish thus to rush to your own destruction? They who do not look forward to the end of a dangerous enterprise, know not how to bring it to a fortunate conclusion. The same thing will, I fear, happen to you, which did to the ass, who was well off, yet could not keep so.” --“What happened to the ass?” replied Scheherazadè. “Listen to me,” answered the vizier, “and I will relate the story.”

THE FABLE OF THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE LABOURER.

A very rich merchant had several houses in the country, where he bred a considerable number of cattle of various descriptions. It happened, that he went to reside on one of his estates with his wife and children, for the purpose of superintending some improvements. The merchant understood the language of beasts; but it was only on the condition of not imparting what he heard to any one, under the penalty of death. Consequently he was prevented from communicating the knowledge he might thus acquire.

He had put by chance an ox and an ass into the same stall; and being one day seated near them, he heard the ox say to the ass: “How happy do I think your lot, when I consider the repose you enjoy, and the little labour you are required to perform. A servant looks after you with great care, washes you, feeds you with fine sifted barley, and gives you fresh and clean water; your greatest task is to carry the merchant, our master, when he has occasion to take a short journey; but for that, your whole life would be passed in idleness. How different now is the manner in which they treat me: my condition is as unfortunate as yours is pleasant. It is scarcely midnight when they yoke me to a plough, with which they make me turn up the ground the whole day; this sometimes quite exhausts me; while the labourer, who is constantly behind, continually urges me on with his goad. The weight and force of the plough, too, chafes all the skin from my neck. After having worked from morning till night, they give me unwholesome dirty beans, or even something worse; and to complete my misery, after having been obliged to satisfy my hunger upon such uninviting food, I am compelled to pass the night in my own filth. Have I not then reason to envy your lot?”

The ass suffered the ox to say what he pleased without interruption; and when he had finished, the former addressed him in these words: “In truth they are not much out when they call you an idiot, since you pass your life just as they please, and are not capable of forming a good resolution. What benefit, pray, do you derive from all your indignities? You even destroy yourself for the ease, pleasure, and profit of those who do not thank you for it. Believe me, they would not treat you thus if you possessed as much courage as strength; when they come to tie you to the manger, what resistance, pray, do you ever make? Do you ever put them in mind of your horns? Do you ever shew your anger by stamping on the ground with your feet? Why don’t you inspire them with dread by your bellowing? Nature has given you the means of making yourself respected, and yet you neglect to use them. They bring you bad beans and chaff; well, do not eat them, smell at them only, and leave them. Thus, if you follow my plans, you will soon perceive a change, which you will thank me for.” The ox took the advice of the ass very kindly, and shewed himself much obliged to him. “My dear companion,” added he, “I will not fail to do as you bid me, and you shall see how I will acquit myself.” After this conversation, of which the merchant lost not a word, they were silent.

Early the next morning, the labourer came for the ox, and yoked him to the plough, and set him to work as usual. The latter, who had not forgotten the advice he had received, was very unruly the whole day; and at night, when the labourer attempted to fasten him as usual to the stall, the malicious animal, instead of turning his horns towards him for that purpose, began to be outrageous, and ran roaring back; he even put down his horns to strike him; in short, he did exactly as the ass had taught him. The day following when the man came, he found the manger still full of beans and chaff; and the animal lying on the ground, with his legs stretched out, and making a strange groaning. The labourer thought it very ill, and that it was useless to take him to work; he therefore immediately went and informed the merchant of it.

The latter perceived that the bad advice of the ass had been followed; and in order to punish him as he deserved, he told the labourer to go and take the ass instead of the ox, and not fail to give him plenty of exercise. The man obeyed; and the ass was obliged to drag the plough the whole day, which tired him the more, because he was unaccustomed to it; besides which, he was so completely beaten, that he could scarcely support himself when he came back.

In the mean time the ox was very well satisfied, he eat all that was in his rack, and had rested the whole day. He was highly pleased with himself for having followed the advice of the ass, and blessed him a thousand times for the good he had procured him. As soon as he saw him return, he did not fail to repeat his thanks. The ass was so enraged at having been thus ill treated, that he would not answer a word. “My own imprudence,” said he to himself, “has alone brought this misfortune upon me. I lived happily, every thing was pleasant, I had all I wished for, and I may thank myself only for this reverse. If I cannot contrive some trick to get out of the scrape, my destruction is inevitable.” In saying this his strength was so much exhausted, that he fell down in his stall half dead.

In this place the grand vizier said to Scheherazade, “You are, my child, this ass, and expose yourself through a false idea of prudence and rectitude. Trust to me; and remain here in safety, without seeking your own destruction.”--“Sir,” replied Scheherazadè, “the example which you have brought, does not alter my resolution; and I shall not cease importuning you, till I have obtained from you the favor of presenting me to the sultan as his consort.” The vizier, finding her persist in her request, said, “Well then, since you will remain thus obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you as the merchant I mentioned did his wife.”