Chapter XXXVII: Part 37

As soon as the princess had put an end to the recital of her adventures, Codadad declared to her that he was deeply concerned at her misfortunes. But, madam, added he, it shall be your own fault if you do not live at ease for the future. The king of Harran’s sons offer you a safe retreat in the court of the king their father; be pleased to accept of it. You will be there cherished by that prince, and respected by all; and if you do not disdain the affection of your deliverer, permit me to make you a present of it, and to marry you before all these princes; let them be witnesses to our contract. The princess consented to it, and the marriage was concluded that very day in the castle, where they found all sorts of provisions. The kitchens were full of flesh and other eatables the black used to feed on when he was weary of feeding on human bodies. There was also a variety of fruits excellent in their kinds; and to complete their pleasure, abundance of delicious wine and other liquors.

They all sat down at table; and after having eaten and drank plentifully, they took along with them the rest of the provisions, and set out for the king of Harran’s court; they travelled several days, encamping in the pleasantest places they could find, and they were within one day’s journey of Harran, when, having halted and drank all their wine, being no longer under concern to make it hold out, Codadad directing his discourse to all his company, Princes, said he, I have too long concealed from you who I am. Behold your brother Codadad! I have received my being, as well as you, from the king of Harran; the prince of Samaria has brought me up, and the princess Pirouze is my mother. Madam, added he, addressing himself to the princes, of Deryabar, do you also forgive me for having concealed my birth from you? Perhaps, by discovering it sooner, I might have prevented some disagreeable reflections, which may have been occasioned by a match you may have thought unequal. No, sir, answered the princess, the opinion I at first conceived of you heightened every moment, and you did not stand in need of the extraction you now discover to make me happy.

The princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much satisfaction at the knowledge of it. But in reality, instead of rejoicing, their hatred of so amiable a brother was increased. They met together at night in a by-place, whilst Codadad and the princess his wife lay last asleep in their tent. Those ungrateful, those envious brothers, forgetting that, had it not been for the brave son of Pirouze, they must have 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 heap favours and a thousand praises on him, and declare him his heir, to the prejudice of all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall down before him. Besides those, 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 again: 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 different countries, 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 not 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? Can I believe these are your brothers who have treated you so unmercifully, these brothers whom thy valour has saved? No, they are rather devils, who under the characters so dear, came to murder you. O barbarous wretches! whosoever you are, how could you make so ungrateful a return for the 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 join your fate with 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 life full of adventures and calamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why do you permit me to find one? Behold, you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them.

By these and other moving expressions, the wretched princess of Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the deplorable Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his consort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon. She was directed to 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 was moved, and being unwilling to leave her in that frightful 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 me 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 but afflict 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: Madam, said he, since they are so, 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 perform what the name and the duty of a wife require of you. You are bound to avenge 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 a just prince. You need only represent to him in lively colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers; I am persuaded he will do you justice. I submit to your reasons, answered the princess; it is my duty to endeavour to avenge Codadad; and since you are so obliging and so 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 caravansera they found, and inquiring of the host what news at court: It is, said he, in very great perplexity. 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 had great merit. The king has forty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but not one of them has virtue enough to comfort the king for the death of Codadad; I say his death, because it is impossible he should be still alive, since no news has been 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 step 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 circumstances, and considered what risk he might run himself; and therefore that he might manage matters with discretion, he desired the princess to stay in the caravansera, 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 espied a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was followed by several ladies mounted also 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 by 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 calender, 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 you must 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 young prince, ran in crowds to join their vows to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was quite full. The surgeon broke the throng, and advanced towards Pirouze’s guards. He stayed out the prayers and when that princess went out he stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in the ear, Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the princess Pirouze; may not I, by your means, be introduced into her apartment? If that secret, answered the slave, relates 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 engrossed by her son, and she will not hear talk of any other subject. It is only about that dear son, replied the surgeon, that I wish to speak 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 matter 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 eagerly 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 surprise you. Then he told her all the particulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with eager attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, that tender mother fainted away on the sofa, as if she had herself been stabbed like her son. Her two women 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 services shall be well rewarded.

When the surgeon was gone, Pirouze remained on the sofa, in such a state of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to her tenderness at the recollection 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 awaited you at such a distance from me. Unfortunate Codadad! Why did you leave me! You would not, it is true, have acquired so much renown; but you had been still alive, and not have cost your mother so many tears. While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly; and her two confidants, moved by her grief, mingled their tears with hers.

Whilst they were all three, as it were, vying in 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 enlarge on the inhuman manner in which Codadad had been murdered by his brothers.

The king did not give Pirouze time to finish her relation, but 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 mortal grief to their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt. The king having spoken these words, with indignation 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 were chilled with fear. He ascended the throne, and causing his grand vizier to draw near, Hassan, said he, 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 as a prison for murderers, and let this be done in a moment. All who were present trembled at hearing this extraordinary command; and the grand vizier, without answering one word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience, and went out of the hall to execute his orders, which very much surprised him. In the mean time the king dismissed those who attended for audience, and declared he would not hear of any business for a month to come. He was still in the hall 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 hall of audience, 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 caravansera, and bring a young princess, who lodges there, but treat her with all the respect due to her quality.

The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered. He mounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the caravansera, 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 beautiful 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 rung with shouts of joy, which would have been turned into lamentations, had that prince’s fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by all.

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 took place. Codadad’s wife found her affliction redouble upon her at the sight of her husband’s father and mother: as, on the other hand, those parents could not look on their son’s wife without being much affected. 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 state. She seemed to be penetrated with sorrow; and the king, moved by those affecting objects, gave way to his own weakness. Those three persons, mingling their tears and sighs, for some time observed a silence, which appeared equally tender and pitiful. At length the princess of Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle, and Codadad’s disaster. Then she demanded justice for the 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 handsome 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 tomb, on which was placed a figure representing Codadad. When all was completed, 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 the ceremony performed, which was after the following manner. The king, attended by his vizier and the principal lords of the court, proceeded towards the dome, and being come to it, he went in and sat down with them on carpets 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, relieve 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 them mounted on black mules, and wearing long grey 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 on his head a book, 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 thee? If thou couldst be restored to life by prayer or learning, we would rub our grey beards at thy feet, and recite prayers; but the King of the universe has taken thee away for ever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Story of the Sleeper awakened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The caliph, who was naturally lively, was mightily diverted with these sallies of Abon Hassan’s, and took great pleasure in promoting drinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when it began to work, he might, by his conversation, satisfy his curiosity. In order, therefore, to enter into conversation, he asked him his name, his business, and how he spent his life. My name, sir, replied he, is Abon Hassan. I lost my father, who was a merchant of Bagdad and though he was not the richest, yet he lived very comfortably. When he died, he left me money enough for my station to live free from ambition; but as he always kept a very strict hand over me in his lifetime, I was willing, when he was gone, to make up the time I thought I had lost. Notwithstanding this, continued Abon Hassan, I was more prudent than most young people are, who give themselves up to debauchery, without any thought, and pursue it till they reduce themselves to the utmost poverty, and are forced to do penance all the rest of their lives after. To avoid this misfortune, I divided what I had left me into two parts, land and ready money. I destined the ready money to supply the expenses of my acquaintance. I meditated, and took a fixed resolution not to touch my rents. I associated with young people of my own age, and with my ready money, which I spent profusely, treated them splendidly every day; and in short, spared for no sort of pleasure. But all this did not last long; for by the time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of my box, and then all my table friends vanished. I made a visit to every one of them successively, and represented to them the miserable condition I was in, but none of them made an offer to relieve me. Upon this, I renounced their friendship, and retrenched so far as to live within the compass of my income, and bound 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 day and 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 prudence with 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 faithful to yourself. It was a slippery path you trod in, and I cannot enough admire, how, after having seen the end of your ready money, you had so great command over yourself as not to enter upon your rents, or even your estate. In short, I must own, I envy you your happiness. You are the happiest 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 a glass for me.

In this manner the caliph and Abon Hassan conversed together, drinking and talking of indifferent pleasant subjects, till the night was pretty far advanced; when the caliph pretending to be fatigued after his journey, told his host he stood in need of a little rest. But, added he, as I would not deprive you of yours on my account, before we part, (because to-morrow I may be gone before you are stirring,) I should be glad to show you how sensible I am of your civility, and the good cheer and hospitality you have shown me. The only thing that troubles me is, that I know not which way to make you any acknowledgement, I beg of you, therefore, to let me understand how I may do it, and you shall see I will not be ungrateful; for it is impossible but a man like you must have some business, some want, or wish for something agreeable to you. Speak freely, and open your mind; for though I am out a merchant, it may be in my power to oblige you myself, or by some friend.

To these offers of the caliph, Abon Hassan, taking him still for a Moussol merchant, replied, I am very well persuaded, my good sir, that it is not out of compliment that you make me these generous tenders; but upon the word of an honest man, I assure you, I have nothing that troubles me, no business, nor desires, and I ask nothing of any body. I have not the least ambition, as I told you before; and am 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 uneasiness, without, however, disturbing my rest. You must know the town of Bagdad is divided into quarters, in each of which there is a mosque, with an iman to perform prayers at certain hours, at the head of the quarter which assembles there. The iman of the division I live in is a grave old man, of an austere countenance, and the greatest hypocrite in the world. Four old men of this neighbourhood, who are people of the same stamp, meet regularly every day at this iman’s house. There they vent their slander, calumny, and malice against me, and the whole quarter, to the disturbance of the peace of a neighbourhood, and the promotion of dissention. Some they threaten, others they frighten; and, in short, would be lords paramount, and have every one govern himself according to their caprice, though they know not how to govern themselves. Indeed, I am sorry to see that they meddle with any thing but their koran, and do not let the world live quietly.

Well, I suppose, said the caliph, you wish to have a stop put to this disorder? You have guessed right, answered Abon Hassan: and the only thing I should pray for would be to be caliph but 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 was? said the caliph. I would make examples of them, answered Abon Hassan, to the satisfaction of all honest men. I would punish the four old men with each a hundred bastinadoes on the soles of their feet, and the iman with four hundred, to teach them not to disturb and abuse their neighbours any more.