A Group of Eastern Romances and Stories from the Persian, Tamil and Urdu

by Unknown

Second Advice.

“It is necessary to guard oneself from the wiles and snares of our fellow-beings, and not to trust implicitly in persons whose character is neither known nor tried. Whoever walks among thorns must do so with great care and precaution. This world resembles a picture-gallery with many apartments, each of which has its own peculiar attractions; but a man who should spend all his time in the contemplation and enjoyment thereof, to the neglect and disregard of his daily avocations, would injure his own interests. Therefore he is prudent who runs not after every fleeting illusion, but bridles his desires lest he be disappointed and rendered unhappy, like the geomancer, the washerman, and the painter, who lost control of their passions and were drowned in the ocean of misfortunes and errors, grieving over their troubles, which they were unable to remedy.” Then Khayrandísh told Nassar the

Story of Hatim Taï and the Benevolent Lady.

It is related that when Hatim Taï[30] was dispensing his bounty one day in a hall which had forty doors, by every one of which the destitute might be admitted, a darvesh entered and thus addressed him: “O vernal cloud of liberality! the mead of hope expects to be irrigated by you. O husbandman of the field of beneficence, the aspirants to your favours are in attendance to receive your refreshing showers, and this gleaner from the store-houses of your bounty was by the guide of hope directed to the prosperous mansion of your generosity!

Bestow gifts, O noble individual,

For liberality is the lamp in the assembly of Faith.

Whoever gives a dirham to a mendicant

Is favourably regarded by God.

The umbrella of victory, in both worlds,

Overshadows the glorious heads of the liberal.”

Hatim ordered one hundred dínars[31] to be given to the darvesh, who again entered by another door and reiterated his petition, and again obtained one hundred dínars. Thus he repeated his request until he had come in by all the forty doors, and had obtained the same sum at each of them. After that he reappeared at the first door and proffered the same request, upon which an attendant said to him: “Darvesh, you have made the round of all the entrances and were disappointed at none. How is it that your greediness is not yet satisfied, and that you have exposed yourself to a refusal?” The darvesh heaved a deep sigh and replied: “The fame of Hatim, which extends over the whole world, has induced me to travel from China to this place. But in that country there is a lady more liberal than he, inasmuch as her largesses surpass the most extravagant expectations of those who receive them, so that a hundred Hatims could not equal in many years the sums which she disburses in one day.” When the darvesh had thus spoken he disappeared, and Hatim became desirous of ascertaining the truth of his statement, so he departed for China, and, arrived there, considering how he might accomplish his object, he walked about the streets.

He perceived great crowds of people hastening away and inquired the reason, when a man answered: “In this city there was a man of the name of Nassar-ullah, who possessed immense riches. He left a daughter who distributes in great profusion—and has done so for several years—money to all persons. If you wish to know whether I speak the truth, you have only to follow the crowd.” Accordingly Hatim went along with the people, and arrived at a beautiful palace where servants dressed in rich garments received everyone who wished to enter. Within the palace Hatim saw a large assembly reposing on silken couches, with tables before them on which the finest dainties were placed in rich variety and abundance. After the repast was over a confidential servant appeared with a platter full of pieces of paper on which different sums were written; and to every person who was about to depart he handed one of those papers. When Hatim’s turn came he also received one, and the assembly broke up. As the people arrived at the gate each man handed his paper to a servant, who gave him in return a bag full of gold according to the amount specified on the little ticket. Hatim was so much astonished at what he had seen that he was constantly thinking of the immense riches of the lady, and was extremely anxious to obtain an interview with her. So he requested a chamberlain to procure him the honour of an audience, and on being admitted into the presence of that queen he addressed her as follows: “Most exalted lady of the mansions of liberality, and húrí of the castles of felicity!

May the rose of your nature constantly

Be blooming joyfully in the spring of generosity!

The hand of your liberality, beauteous fairy,

Is shedding jewels like the vernal cloud.

Your servant has a difficulty,

Which causes him great anxiety:

If you grant my petition,

I shall humbly explain it.”

That idol of high prosperity gave permission, and Hatim spake thus: “I hear that the stream of your extraordinary liberality has for several years flowed with undiminished vigour, and I am curious to know how you obtained such enormous wealth.” Quoth the lady: “Every assembly receives light from its lamp, and the destiny of every individual is traced out on his forehead by the hand of divine providence.

Love was the bulbul’s, and beauty the rose’s share;

Liberal persons are the treasurers of the mercy of God.

The state of my affairs is connected with a tale which I shall communicate to you on two conditions: First, I am informed that at present there exists a man of the name of Hatim, whose liberality is so far famed that in spite of my having for a number of years made it my business to grant to all persons the richest and most abundant gifts, my name is not even heard of except in this country; therefore I am so jealous of Hatim that I wish you to kill him. Secondly, I have heard that in the neighbourhood of Khatá there is an exceedingly high mountain, in a cave of which a blind man has dwelt for many years, who never utters any words save these:

‘If you possess one barley-corn of justice,

You will never have half a grain of sorrow,’

and I desire to know his reason for constantly repeating these words.”

Hatim drew the finger of acquiescence over the face of content, took his leave, and set out for the cave indicated by the lady. There he found a blind man, whom he requested to relate his adventures. But the blind man replied: “My good friend, what can have instigated you to make such a request? I have no doubt that your mind is often exercised with problems which you cannot solve; and I pray you to consider this question as one of them.” Hatim, however, went on to say: “Persons of a kindly disposition generally comply with the requests of the importunate, and I hope you will not allow me to depart from this place without affording me the desired information.” Then quoth the blind man: “I shall withdraw the veil from the surface of the mystery on one condition: It is long since I heard that there is a washerman in Khatá who goes every morning to the bank of the river and does nothing but look at a tree which is there, leap about like a madman, sigh deeply, and repeat these verses:

‘Alas, that your picture has left my sight,

And left my golden chalice empty of the wine of joy!

It is the wish of my heart that once more I may meet her.’

Now, my good friend, if you acquaint me with the story of that washerman, I shall have no objection to relate to you my own history.”

Accordingly Hatim proceeded in quest of the washerman, and finding the blind man’s account of him perfectly accurate, he was not a little astonished at his actions and said to him: “Friend, if you would kindly inform me why you act in this strange manner, I might be able to help you in your troubles and perhaps liberate you from your affliction.” But the washerman sighed and only said in reply: “The wound of my heart no medicine can heal, nor can any advice help me. I am incurable, and the grief of my heart would only be augmented were I to reveal it.

I had better hide my sorrow from empirics;

Perchance the divine mercy will cure my grief.”

Quoth Hatim: “Young man, stand not on ceremony with me, for I shall not quit hold of your skirt until you have told me your adventures.” Then said the washerman: “I also have a great curiosity regarding a certain matter, and if you will satisfy it I shall relate to you my story. Know that in Máchin there is a man who paints on a board, during the whole year, a picture of the handsomest kind, which he sells in the bazár at the end of the year for a thousand dínars, and then returns the money and breaks his picture to pieces. I wish to learn the reason of this proceeding.” “Alas, and woe is me!” exclaimed Hatim. “Into what a labyrinth of troubles have I fallen, to be thus required to solve one enigma after another!” He had, however, no alternative but to go to the city of Máchin, and it so chanced that he arrived there at the time when the painter had brought his picture to the bazár and was surrounded by such a great crowd of people that Hatim could only get near him as a bidder, and assisted at the sale until the painter broke his picture and gathered up the fragments, when the crowd dispersed with exclamations of regret. Hatim then visited the painter and addressed him, saying: “Young man, what is your opinion regarding hospitality?” In reply the painter recited these verses:

“A guest is a flower from the garden of prosperity and mercy;

He is the fruit of the spring of happiness.

Whoever is inhospitable injures his own soul.”

He received Hatim in a very friendly manner, and inquired of him: “To what circumstance may I ascribe the happiness of being visited by you?” Quoth Hatim: “The mysterious force which attracts kindred spirits to each other has made me trespass on your retirement.” After an interchange of courtesies they became quite intimate, and Hatim, anxious to attain his object, said to the painter: “Dear friend, I conjure you, by the obligations which you have already conferred on me, to explain the cause of what I have witnessed this day,” and he thus complied:

The Painter’s Story.

In former times, when the refreshing clouds of youth and strength watered the grove of my life, I decked out my imagination with the variegated robes of pleasure, and during the greater portion of that period the buds of all kinds of desires blossomed, and the ardent longings to embrace the fairy of enjoyment took possession of my heart. I had a delightful garden in which I walked about one day according to my usual custom, when I beheld two serpents fighting. One was black, the other white; the latter seemed to be the weaker and about to succumb to its antagonist; and, as every one who removes a thorn from the path of a bare-footed person performs a good action, I drew my scymetar and struck off the head of the black serpent. That very moment the sky became darkened, something roared in the air, a phial fell to the earth and was shattered to pieces, at the same time the white serpent disappeared. I was astonished at what had taken place, but again returned to the garden next day to walk about in it. In passing near the bank of a river I observed a white hand protruding from the water, each finger of which was adorned with a ring set with precious stones of a brilliancy never before seen by the eyes of man. The desire of possessing such gems incited me to seize one of the fingers, when the hand drew me instantly into the river, and on opening my eyes I found myself in a garden like Paradise, full of the most beautiful flowers and trees. When I had recovered from my confusion and astonishment I began to stroll about that spacious garden until I reached a splendid building, which I entered, and discovered a person seated on a throne surrounded by attendants. I approached and humbly saluted him; he received me kindly, called me nearer, and said: “I am surprised to behold you in this place.” To which I answered: “May it please your exalted majesty, I have not intruded, but was forced to come into this region,” and I explained the whole affair. Then quoth he: “On account of the benefit you have conferred on our family, we were extremely anxious to see you.” On hearing these words I began to consider to what nation this man might belong, and what good service I could possibly have rendered him, when he proceeded to say: “I know that you are thinking of me. My name is Zayn al-Mafakhir. From Ma-varannahr, which is inhabited by men, the country as far as China is in my power; and, except my ancestors, none of the fairies or genii can enter it. I am obeyed by more than thirty thousand genii and fairies. I have a daughter called Subayha, who is innocent and beautiful. One of the chief genii had fallen in love with her and wished to marry her, and with this object had sent a messenger to enter into negotiations; but, as enmity and strife existed between us, I refused to have anything to do with him. This so incensed the suitor that he despatched a genie to steal my daughter; but my spies having informed me of his proceedings, I constantly watched the girl. She was, however, wont to visit your garden, and two days ago she happened to be there when Jarbua assumed the form of a black serpent, and had almost effected his purpose when you passed by and killed him. Subayha told me of this, and I resolved to make you her husband.”

When the maiden was shown to me, her bewitching eye at once captured the fawn of the repose of my heart; and on beholding the extraordinary attractions of her person I fell ardently in love with her; and Zayn al-Mafakhir said: “Subayha belongs to you. But, as the nature of a fairy is entirely different from that of a human being, you must never contradict or irritate her, but obey her in all things, lest the thread of your affection be snapped in twain.” I promised to follow these injunctions most faithfully; married Subayha; obtained all the necessaries for housekeeping; and Zayn al-Mafakhir went to reside in another place, leaving his palace with all its furniture and servants for our use. In due course my wife gave birth to a son, and at the moment a wolf appeared, to whom she threw the infant, and he walked off with it. On seeing this act of cruelty my heart was sorely grieved for my child, but on account of my promise I could not say anything, and renewed my intimacy with her. After this we had three more children, two of whom she threw to wolves and the third into the fire; and each time I was overwhelmed with sorrow, until one day, when a grandee of that region sent me some rich food, and I was just about to begin to eat it with perfect zest when my wife dashed it from me, at which patience forsook me, and I said to her: “Darling, in every thing my only desire is to please you, and I have never failed in my duty towards you. But what gave occasion for your unkindness? Three of my children you have given to wolves, the fourth you have cast into the fire, and sorrow for their loss had well-nigh killed me, though I did not complain to you; and now you have thrown away the most delicious food. Surely these are all tokens of your displeasure and even hatred!” The fuel of these words set the oven of the lady’s anger in a blaze, and she exclaimed:

“To expect fidelity from a weak man

Is like mistaking a drop of water for a pearl.

Young man, on the day of our union you promised not to ask the reason of anything I should do. The children whom you thought I had given to wolves and thrown into the fire were simply delivered to their nurses, and all are alive and well.” Hereupon she showed me our four children, who were extremely beautiful. Then she continued: “The food which I threw away had been poisoned by a malevolent genie, and had you eaten of it you would have immediately perished. But now that you have been so thoughtless I can no longer remain with you.” Having thus spoken, she became suddenly changed into a dove and darkness covered the sky. When it was daylight, the palace, with its furniture and ornaments, its garden and servants, had disappeared, and I found myself in a cemetery, dressed in the same garb as on the day when I went to walk in my garden.

For some time after this event I wandered about the streets and bazárs like a madman, until my relatives applied various remedies which quieted the excited condition of my mind; but no medicine could heal my grief. In our neighbourhood there dwelt a painter who was well skilled in drawing portraits, and I became his pupil to enable myself to perpetuate the memory of my love and soothe my grief. I attained skill to paint the likenesses of my wife and children, in which occupation I take such delight that I complete every year a large picture and sell it for a high price; but, as my jealousy does not allow me to let such precious treasures fall into the possession of strangers, I break the picture to pieces. O my friend, the felicity I enjoyed is gone for ever, and I spend my life in misery.

As soon as Hatim had heard this narrative he hastened back to the washerman and related it to him, who in his turn now told Hatim the story of his adventures, as follows:

The Washerman’s Story.

I have followed the business of a washerman for many years. My occupation brought me every day to this place, and once, when I was here as usual, I observed a dove alighting on a tree. The bird was so beautiful that I left off my work to admire it. After a while it shook its wings, its skin opened, and a húrí-like damsel was revealed to my sight. She descended from the tree and seated herself in my lap. I rubbed the sleeve of astonishment over my eyes and exclaimed: “What happiness has fallen to my lot! O most beauteous lady, I am ready to sacrifice my life to you, and to make you the companion of my joys and sorrows.” But the damsel replied: “Young man, this is not a fitting time for jesting. I have come a long way, and feeling very weary I wish to repose for a while.” So she laid her head in my lap and fell asleep, while I pondered my good fortune and future enjoyment. Meantime another and still more beautiful dove settled on a branch of the tree, and presently turned into a heart-ravishing maiden. Desirous to please her, I expressed some compliments, to which she thus responded: “Men are of weak intellects and so fickle that they bestow every moment their affection on a new object. One eye needs not two pupils and one scabbard cannot contain two swords. Let no one be thirsty in a river, or wish for flowers in a garden.” On hearing these sarcastic remarks I gently removed the head of the first lady from my lap and said to the second: “I renounce a thousand mistresses like this for half a glance of your eyes,” adding many other complimentary expressions which pleased her so much that she also laid her head in my lap and fell asleep. Soon afterwards a third dove alighted on the tree, and was like the others transformed into a beautiful girl. Forgetting what I had said to the other ladies, I fell violently in love with her, but while I was trying to ingratiate myself with the new comer, the two others awoke, and all three upbraided me in this strain: “O faithless and ignorant wretch! are you not ashamed of your unsteady and chameleon-like nature, and do you not know that the first condition of love is fidelity! Who could ever expect attachment from thee?

The morning brings light, the evening night;

Nor can a bat perceive the sun.”

When they had thus spoken they assumed the forms of doves again and flew away, leaving me to regret my folly and repent of my fickleness. Many years have come and gone since then, but I can never forget the happiness which I might have enjoyed, and so I roam about in despair.

Hatim took leave of the washerman and proceeded to the cave in the mountain where he related the history of the fickle lover to the blind man, who now told him his own history in these words:

The Blind Man’s Story.

In former times I was a skilful geomancer,[32] and one day I visited a tradesman in the town with whom I had some business, on the conclusion of which he requested me to cast his horoscope. I complied, and it appeared that he was to find a treasure. I informed him of this, but he smiled incredulously and said: “I am too well acquainted with my own destitute condition. What you say is impossible, and I cannot permit you to jest at my expense.” I repeated the operation, and the result being the same, I swore that there was no joke at all in the matter. Quoth he: “Where, then, is this treasure?” Said I: “In this very house.” The door was then locked and we both began to dig with great energy until we came upon a large stone, which having removed, we found that it had covered a well. After consultation it was agreed that he should go down and I was to remain above to receive the treasure. Accordingly, my friend having provided himself with a basket, I let him down by a rope, and when he had filled the basket with gold, I drew it up, and thus we continued until an immense heap of gold and gems lay beside me. Then I thought to myself: “It is possible that if I pull him up again he may try to get rid of me, and so deprive me of my life as well as of a share of this treasure. I had better leave him in the well, remove these riches privily, and pass the rest of my life in comfort.” When my friend found that I did not again lower the basket he began to suspect my design, and cried to me from the bottom of the well: “Brother, do not harbour any evil thoughts about me, for I shall never forget your kindness, and we shall make an equal division of the whole treasure. Draw me up, I beseech you.” But I would not comply, because I considered that a secret in the possession of two persons is soon divulged, and both are disappointed. I therefore took no notice of his lamentations, and was thinking how I might remove the treasure without the knowledge of any one, and concluded that the first thing to be done was to cover up the well so that I should be freed from any apprehensions concerning my partner, and then carry off the gold and silver by piecemeal. With these ideas I walked about the house and considered that it would be advisable to wait till nightfall, when I should cover the well and take away a portion of the treasure. But when the night set in it occurred to me that I might be attacked by robbers or that some other mishap might befal me, so I thought it would be more prudent to wait for the break of day, and then with a quiet mind carry off my wealth, and thus thinking, I fell asleep.

Now my friend happened to have a mortal enemy who was waiting for an opportunity to kill him, and being desirous that night of giving effect to his purpose he came to the house, fastened a rope to the wall, and by means of it climbed to the roof, from which he descended into the apartment where I was sleeping. The sound of the man’s footsteps awoke me, and I leapt up affrighted, crying: “Who is there?” The man, mistaking me for the owner of the house, caught hold of me and threw me violently on the floor. “Friend,” said I, “if you want gold and silver, take it, but spare my life.” “Do you wish to deceive me,” said the ruffian, “and escape by such a subterfuge? You are as poor as a beggar, and I shall make you walk the streets as one.” Thereupon he took an awl and piercing both my eyes with it blinded me for ever, he being in the hand of Providence the instrument of punishing me for my covetousness. After having thus avenged himself on his enemy, as he thought, the man wished to leave the house, but in the darkness he tumbled into the well and broke his leg. The tradesman, supposing it was myself who had thus fallen into the well, exclaimed: “Friend, you are wonderfully covetous, and thereby have not only brought me to this misery but have yourself now become my partner in misfortune.” But his enemy, mistaking him for some one whom the tradesman had thus confined, said to him: “I have punished the man who has imprisoned you in this well.” Presently, however, he began to cry out from the pain occasioned by his broken leg, when the tradesman at once discovered it was not I who had become his fellow-prisoner. I need hardly say that I passed the night in great pain from my blinded eyes.

Next day the tradesman’s son returned home from a journey to foreign lands, where he had gained much wealth. On entering the house he was astonished to find me holding both my hands to my eyes and a heap of treasure by the side of the open well, and to hear me exclaiming: “I was comfortable without this treasure, but my covetousness has for ever deprived me of my sight,” and the lamentations of the two men at the bottom of the well. He ordered a slave to draw them up, and to his surprise and joy the first to appear was the young man’s father, who told him all that had occurred, and when the other man had also been pulled out, he discovered that his enemy was uninjured and that it was I whom he had blinded. The tradesman forgave us both, but his enemy died soon after these occurrences.

I was conveyed to this cave, and every day, morning and evening, two small loaves are thrown in to me. I have been in this place many years, but have never ceased to repent of my covetousness.

Hatim, having thus ascertained the histories of those three men, at once returned to the bountiful lady and related them to her, after which she told him her own story, as she had promised:

The Benevolent Lady’s Story.

My father was a wealthy merchant of this country, and very intimate with all its ruling powers, until he died, when I inherited his property and lived in comfort. One day as I was sitting at a window I observed a large company of devotees, preceded by a man reputed to be of great sanctity, who bore the marks of piety in his countenance. Whenever he stopped a chair was placed for him, and the people stood reverently around him, wiping with their sleeves the dust from his skirts and shoes; and in this manner the procession entered the city. Seeing the stature of that person invested with the robe of piety and devotion, I was curious to ascertain what famed hermit or saint he might be, and despatched a servant to make inquiries. He returned soon and said: “This is Mullah Tamurtash, the ascetic, who has in the school of abstinence studied the divine laws and performs his devotions in the hermitage of Abú Tuchmah and is now come to the city at the invitation of the people to preach and pray.” On learning this I considered it incumbent on me to pay a compliment to so holy a personage, so the next day I made up a few presents and said to a slave: “Take this to the holy ascetic, and request his prayers for me at the throne of Grace.” My messenger was received with great kindness, and examined on every circumstance connected with my affairs. During the ensuing night an alarm of “thieves” was raised in my house, and when I awoke I found that a number of men had walked off with all the valuables they could lay hands on, and I sent a servant in pursuit of them to discover where they deposited my property. The servant on his return informed me that everything had been conveyed to the abode of the ascetic. I immediately proceeded to the king’s palace and stated my case to him, but was not a little surprised to receive this reply: “This foolish and impudent woman,” said the king, “speaks like an infidel, and ought to be expelled from the city lest some calamity should befall us on account of her wickedness. To asperse the character of a man who has all his life walked in the path of virtue is enough to call down the wrath of God on our own heads.” I was accordingly driven out of the city, poor and helpless, and journeyed on foot till I reached a village, where I obtained shelter in the house of a respectable man; and having, as my sole property, a ruby ring, I managed, by means of my host, to sell it for ten thousand dirhams, and as one of the agents of my father was established in Hindústán I determined to go to that country. Having purchased a camel and a slave, I set out on my journey and in due time arrived safely at the house of my father’s agent, to whom I related my misfortunes. In short, I remained some time in Hindústán and engaged in commerce, through which I accumulated immense wealth. I then resolved to return to China, and, having provided myself with seventy powerful, valiant, and intelligent slaves and put on men’s attire, proceeded to trade from town to town until I reached my native city. I readily obtained an audience of the king, to whom I presented a number of valuable gifts, and soon it was reported far and wide that a very rich merchant had arrived from Hindústán with a great company of attendants. One day I gave a quantity of gold and silver to a slave and ordered him to carry it to Tamurtash the ascetic, with my humble request that he would remember me in his prayers. At night I ordered all my attendants to arm themselves and to be on the alert, but keep quiet and concealed. I was not deceived in my expectation, for about the middle of the night the ascetic with his followers came, and throwing ropes over the wall got into the courtyard with the design of plundering my house. Suddenly my servants leapt forth from their ambush and captured the ascetic with his forty accomplices, all of whom I caused to be confined in chains. As soon as morning dawned I went to the palace and made my statement, when the king ordered the police immediately to search for the thieves. “O King,” said I, “all the robbers are already captured, and if you will permit, I shall bring them into your presence.” When the king and his courtiers beheld Tamurtash the ascetic and his disciples they were amazed, and the king straightway caused them all to be put to death, saying: “That woman stated the truth the first time also, but we gave no credit to her words; she has suffered innocently, and now we have no means to make good our error.” But I replied, smiling: “That poor woman am I, O King,” and related the whole affair. The king approved of what I had done, and made over to me all the property of the ascetic.[33]

“Now, my friend,” continued the lady, “years have passed since I commenced to bestow the most abundant gifts from that property, and no diminution appears in it. But in spite of all my liberality my fame is not known beyond this country, while that of Hatim is patent and manifest in the world like the sun. You have promised to bring me the head of Hatim, but you have not kept your word.” Hatim answered: “I am myself Hatim, and my head is at your disposal,” and drawing his sword he laid it before the lady. She was greatly moved and said: “True greatness consists not merely in liberality but in hazarding our lives for those of our friends, and that you have done. The pre-eminence is therefore yours. Hitherto I have abstained from accepting the addresses of any man, but your beauty and liberality induce me to offer you my hand.” Hatim was highly pleased, drew the hand of response over the eyes of acquiescence, married her, and lived with her happily for many years until they were parted by death.

When Khayrandísh had ended this tale he said to Nassar: “I have related these stories to impress on your mind the fact that whoever abandons the reins of his heart to the promptings of foolish illusions, and the vain imaginings of his animal passions, will fare like the Painter, the Washerman, and the Blind Man, will reap only disappointment, carry on his back the load of bitter memories, and during his whole life taste nothing but the beverage of shame and repentance.”