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From Complete Book of Sindbad the Sailor, & Other Stories from the Arabian Nights
By Unknown Author
ONE night, in the City of Baghdad, the Khalifeh Harun-er-Rashid went forth with Ja’far, his Grand Vizier, and Mesrur, his Executioner, all three disguised as merchants, for it was the Khalifeh’s whim to wander abroad in this way at times, in order to learn how his people fared among themselves.
Taking their way at random, they had not gone far before they noticed a brilliantly-lighted house whence came sounds of music and revelry. “O Vizier,” the Khalifeh said to Ja’far, “it is in my mind to enter this house, and see what entertainment we might find. Wherefore, devise some excuse whereby we may gain admittance.” So Ja’far knocked at the door, and it was opened presently by a beautiful lady, tall and graceful as a windflower.
“O my mistress,” said Ja’far courteously, “we are merchants from Tiberias, and, knowing not this City well, we have lost our way. I perceive that thou art kind, as well as beautiful; and I am emboldened to ask thee for safe shelter in thy house.”
The lady regarded the three lost merchants with an approving glance, for, though she knew not their high degree, the dignity of state cannot be well concealed from a woman’s eyes. “Wait a little,” she said; “I will consult my sisters.” And with this she retired within the house. Presently she returned, and bade them enter; whereupon they[154] followed her into a sumptuously furnished apartment, where they found two other ladies as beautiful as the first; and with them was a porter—an amusing fellow, as full of quips and cranks as he was of wine—who had been entertaining them with joke and song and dance. The ladies smiled upon the three merchants, and welcomed them graciously, setting food and wine before them, and bidding them join in their merriment.
For a while the porter, who, like the three merchants, had come unbidden, but had been made welcome because of his versatility and ready wit in entertaining, kept the company in constant laughter, so that the Khalifeh said to Ja’far, “Verily, O Vizier, we should like this fellow’s head and all it contains. Nay, O Mesrur,” he added, turning to his Executioner, “I want not his head without the rest of him. He shall be my wag. ” “O King of the Age,” answered the Grand Vizier, “I hear, and obey. ” Meanwhile, the porter continued to amuse them, but at length he became so intoxicated that his efforts to amuse were unsuccessful, whereat the entertainment flagged.
“It seems to me,” said the Khalifeh, “that these three ladies are no ordinary persons; perchance they have a history. Ask them to entertain us with their various stories. ” Accordingly, the Vizier singled out the eldest and put the question to her. But she liked it not, and, with a clouded brow, led him to the door, on the lintel of which she pointed out an inscription: “Ask not what doth not concern thee, lest thou hear what may not please thee. ” Ja’far returned and informed the Khalifeh of this, which only served to increase his curiosity.
While he was planning a way with the Vizier to induce them to tell their history, there came a knock at the door. One of the[155] sisters went to open it, and presently returned, saying, “There, are three Dervishes without, each of them clean shaven, and each lacking an eye.
“Ask them if they were born blind of an eye,” said one of the sisters, “and if they are brothers.” So the lady went and asked them these questions, and returned presently with the answer: “They were not born blind, but each lost his eye through an adventure; neither are they brothers, having met for the first time in this City, where they have lost their way. They are wandering Mendicants or Calenders.”
At this, her sister turned to Ja’far. “Thou didst desire to hear our stories, O my master, but it seemeth that these Dervishes may have stories more interesting to hear. Shall we admit them? ” The Khalifeh added his approval to that of Ja’far on this point, and the three Calenders were admitted. And strange looking men they were.
Differing widely in feature and expression, they were all alike in the manner of their dress and general appearance. Each had lost one eye; and each had long black moustaches, twisted like silk, and drooping over a clean-shaven chin. Being of the order of mendicants, they bowed humbly, and stood silent. “Tell us how it is,” said the eldest of the sisters, “that you three, being no relation one to another, and each lacking one eye, should be together. ” “In that,” said one of the Calenders, “there is no more cause for wonder than that you three women, all unrelated one to another before birth, and all equally beautiful, should find yourselves sisters of one household.
At this the Khalifeh whispered to Ja’far, “This man’s speech and address are not those of a mendicant. If I mistake not he hath moved in Royal Courts.”
[156]
“Yet, O my mistress,” the First Calender continued, “it may be that it was decreed by Destiny that we three, coming from three widely separate kingdoms, should meet in this City, the Abode of Peace, for our conditions appear to be similar. Each of us having lost, not only an eye, but a throne—for know that we are kings, and the sons of kings—has been led hither by the same stars, to kneel at the feet of the Khalifeh Harun-er-Rashid and implore his aid in the restoration of our royal state.”
On hearing this, the Khalifeh looked down his beard, saying within himself, “If they knew, they would kneel and implore here and now. But they know not.” Then a stratagem within a stratagem got hold of him, and he arose and bowed low to the three ladies.
“O my mistresses,” he said, “whose beauty is unequalled, save by that of each to each, I crave your permission. It seems there is an entertainment in this matter. Here we have Three Royal Calenders suppliant to the Khalifeh—on whom be peace! Now, it will be good for them to rehearse their parts for our amusement; for so, when at last they gain audience of the Khalifeh, they will be well versed. Grant me then the privilege, O fair ones, to play the part of the Khalifeh, for I am not unskilled in the art of such play.
Indeed, I have appeared before the Khalifeh himself—(”In a mirror,“ assented Ja’far, in thought),—and he was greatly@ pleased with my impersonation and my appearance.
“Verily,” said one of the sisters, in approval, “thou art a kingly man, and thou wilt play the part well. What say you, O my sisters?” she added, turning to the other two. They agreed, laughing, and clapping their hands, for they liked the idea of real suppliants rehearsing to a stage Khalifeh.
[157]
“Good!” cried one, “and these Calenders will approach thee as if thou wert in sober truth the Khalifeh.”
“And,” rejoined Er-Rashid, “as if these two were indeed my Grand Vizier, Ja’far, and Mesrur, my Executioner.”
Loudly the two laughed at the Khalifeh’s happy conceit, and preened themselves for office, Ja’far assuming his old look of terrible solemnity, while Mesrur, drawing his great sword, with a grin, struck an attitude that many had beheld for the last time.
The Calenders unbent to the play; the ladies sprang into animation; even the porter was rolled from a couch to give place to the Khalifeh, who sat himself thereon in royal state.
“On pain of death, O Calenders,” said the Khalifeh—and all except Ja’far and Mesrur marvelled at his royal dignity—“I command you to make known to me severally the stories of your lives, for I would fain learn how each of you came to lose a throne, and an eye.”
On this, the Royal Calenders, taking up the jest in a proper spirit, advanced and kissed the ground.
“Rise!” said the Khalifeh, imitating himself to perfection, “and see to it that your stories please not only me, but Mesrur, my Executioner; for his sword hath a cutting edge, and I observe that you have your heads with you.” Singling out one of the three, he commanded the other two to stand aside. Then the first Royal Calender spoke as follows:—
ONE night, in the City of Baghdad, the Khalifeh Harun-er-Rashid went forth with Ja’far, his Grand Vizier, and Mesrur, his Executioner, all three disguised as merchants, for it was the Khalifeh’s whim to wander abroad in this way at times, in order to learn how his people fared among themselves.
Taking their way at random, they had not gone far before they noticed a brilliantly-lighted house whence came sounds of music and revelry. “O Vizier,” the Khalifeh said to Ja’far, “it is in my mind to enter this house, and see what entertainment we might find. Wherefore, devise some excuse whereby we may gain admittance.” So Ja’far knocked at the door, and it was opened presently by a beautiful lady, tall and graceful as a windflower.
“O my mistress,” said Ja’far courteously, “we are merchants from Tiberias, and, knowing not this City well, we have lost our way. I perceive that thou art kind, as well as beautiful; and I am emboldened to ask thee for safe shelter in thy house.”
The lady regarded the three lost merchants with an approving glance, for, though she knew not their high degree, the dignity of state cannot be well concealed from a woman’s eyes. “Wait a little,” she said; “I will consult my sisters.” And with this she retired within the house. Presently she returned, and bade them enter; whereupon they[154] followed her into a sumptuously furnished apartment, where they found two other ladies as beautiful as the first; and with them was a porter—an amusing fellow, as full of quips and cranks as he was of wine—who had been entertaining them with joke and song and dance. The ladies smiled upon the three merchants, and welcomed them graciously, setting food and wine before them, and bidding them join in their merriment.
For a while the porter, who, like the three merchants, had come unbidden, but had been made welcome because of his versatility and ready wit in entertaining, kept the company in constant laughter, so that the Khalifeh said to Ja’far, “Verily, O Vizier, we should like this fellow’s head and all it contains. Nay, O Mesrur,” he added, turning to his Executioner, “I want not his head without the rest of him. He shall be my wag. ” “O King of the Age,” answered the Grand Vizier, “I hear, and obey. ” Meanwhile, the porter continued to amuse them, but at length he became so intoxicated that his efforts to amuse were unsuccessful, whereat the entertainment flagged.
“It seems to me,” said the Khalifeh, “that these three ladies are no ordinary persons; perchance they have a history. Ask them to entertain us with their various stories. ” Accordingly, the Vizier singled out the eldest and put the question to her. But she liked it not, and, with a clouded brow, led him to the door, on the lintel of which she pointed out an inscription: “Ask not what doth not concern thee, lest thou hear what may not please thee. ” Ja’far returned and informed the Khalifeh of this, which only served to increase his curiosity.
While he was planning a way with the Vizier to induce them to tell their history, there came a knock at the door. One of the[155] sisters went to open it, and presently returned, saying, “There, are three Dervishes without, each of them clean shaven, and each lacking an eye.
“Ask them if they were born blind of an eye,” said one of the sisters, “and if they are brothers.” So the lady went and asked them these questions, and returned presently with the answer: “They were not born blind, but each lost his eye through an adventure; neither are they brothers, having met for the first time in this City, where they have lost their way. They are wandering Mendicants or Calenders.”
At this, her sister turned to Ja’far. “Thou didst desire to hear our stories, O my master, but it seemeth that these Dervishes may have stories more interesting to hear. Shall we admit them? ” The Khalifeh added his approval to that of Ja’far on this point, and the three Calenders were admitted. And strange looking men they were.
Differing widely in feature and expression, they were all alike in the manner of their dress and general appearance. Each had lost one eye; and each had long black moustaches, twisted like silk, and drooping over a clean-shaven chin. Being of the order of mendicants, they bowed humbly, and stood silent. “Tell us how it is,” said the eldest of the sisters, “that you three, being no relation one to another, and each lacking one eye, should be together. ” “In that,” said one of the Calenders, “there is no more cause for wonder than that you three women, all unrelated one to another before birth, and all equally beautiful, should find yourselves sisters of one household.
At this the Khalifeh whispered to Ja’far, “This man’s speech and address are not those of a mendicant. If I mistake not he hath moved in Royal Courts.”
[156]
“Yet, O my mistress,” the First Calender continued, “it may be that it was decreed by Destiny that we three, coming from three widely separate kingdoms, should meet in this City, the Abode of Peace, for our conditions appear to be similar. Each of us having lost, not only an eye, but a throne—for know that we are kings, and the sons of kings—has been led hither by the same stars, to kneel at the feet of the Khalifeh Harun-er-Rashid and implore his aid in the restoration of our royal state.”
On hearing this, the Khalifeh looked down his beard, saying within himself, “If they knew, they would kneel and implore here and now. But they know not.” Then a stratagem within a stratagem got hold of him, and he arose and bowed low to the three ladies.
“O my mistresses,” he said, “whose beauty is unequalled, save by that of each to each, I crave your permission. It seems there is an entertainment in this matter. Here we have Three Royal Calenders suppliant to the Khalifeh—on whom be peace! Now, it will be good for them to rehearse their parts for our amusement; for so, when at last they gain audience of the Khalifeh, they will be well versed. Grant me then the privilege, O fair ones, to play the part of the Khalifeh, for I am not unskilled in the art of such play.
Indeed, I have appeared before the Khalifeh himself—(”In a mirror,“ assented Ja’far, in thought),—and he was greatly@ pleased with my impersonation and my appearance.
“Verily,” said one of the sisters, in approval, “thou art a kingly man, and thou wilt play the part well. What say you, O my sisters?” she added, turning to the other two. They agreed, laughing, and clapping their hands, for they liked the idea of real suppliants rehearsing to a stage Khalifeh.
[157]
“Good!” cried one, “and these Calenders will approach thee as if thou wert in sober truth the Khalifeh.”
“And,” rejoined Er-Rashid, “as if these two were indeed my Grand Vizier, Ja’far, and Mesrur, my Executioner.”
Loudly the two laughed at the Khalifeh’s happy conceit, and preened themselves for office, Ja’far assuming his old look of terrible solemnity, while Mesrur, drawing his great sword, with a grin, struck an attitude that many had beheld for the last time.
The Calenders unbent to the play; the ladies sprang into animation; even the porter was rolled from a couch to give place to the Khalifeh, who sat himself thereon in royal state.
“On pain of death, O Calenders,” said the Khalifeh—and all except Ja’far and Mesrur marvelled at his royal dignity—“I command you to make known to me severally the stories of your lives, for I would fain learn how each of you came to lose a throne, and an eye.”
On this, the Royal Calenders, taking up the jest in a proper spirit, advanced and kissed the ground.
“Rise!” said the Khalifeh, imitating himself to perfection, “and see to it that your stories please not only me, but Mesrur, my Executioner; for his sword hath a cutting edge, and I observe that you have your heads with you.” Singling out one of the three, he commanded the other two to stand aside. Then the first Royal Calender spoke as follows:—