THE HISTORY OF ABOSABER THE PATIENT.
Sire (said Aladin), Abosaber, surnamed the Patient, was a wealthy and generous man, who lived in a village which he rendered happy by his charities. He was hospitable and beneficent to the poor, and every one that applied to him. His granaries were full, his ploughs were continually at work, his flocks covered the plains, and he maintained plenty in the country. He had a wife and two children, and the happiness of this way of life was disturbed by nothing but the devastations of a monstrous lion, which ravaged the stables and folds belonging to the peaceful cultivators of these happy regions, according to its necessities and those of its young.
The wife of Abosaber wanted her husband, at the head of his people, to hunt this animal, by whose devastation they, on account of their riches, were more particularly affected.
"Wife," said Abosaber to her, "let us have patience! I have not any skill in lion hunting; leave it to others."
The King of the country heard of the ravages of this lion, and ordered a general chase. The people immediately took arms: the lion was sought for, and soon surrounded on every side. A shower of arrows was discharged upon him. He became furious: his bristles stood on end, his eyes flashed, he beat his sides with his terrible tail, and, setting up tremendous roarings, darted with fury upon the nearest of the hunters. This was a young man of nineteen years of age, mounted upon a vigorous horse.
At the cries of the lion the courser was seized with terror, and his strength instantly failed him. He fell, and died as if he had been struck with a thunderbolt. The valiant knight soon got upon his feet, and, invoking the name of the great Prophet, he plunged his spear into the enormous jaws which were opened to devour him. This exploit of courage and intrepidity gained him, together with the applauses of his Sovereign, the office of commander-in-chief of all his troops.
Abosaber, hearing of the lion's death, said to his wife, "See of what advantage patience hath been to us! Had I followed your advice, and exposed myself to the danger of attacking an animal against which it was necessary to draw out so much strength, I should have lost my life, with all my people, to no purpose."
The dangerous lion did not alone disturb the peaceful retreat of Abosaber; the inhabitants of the village did not all enjoy the same good character. One of them committed a considerable robbery in the capital, and made his escape, after having murdered the master of the house he had plundered. The King, informed of this double crime, sent in search of the relations and slaves of the man who had been so inhumanly murdered. No one could give him any information, but by throwing out suspicions against the inhabitants of the village where Abosaber dwelt. These had the character of being very bad people, and were known to have frequented the house in which the murder and theft had been committed, the perpetrators of which they were endeavouring to discover. Upon this declaration alone, and without having recourse to any other proof, the enraged monarch commanded an officer at the head of a detachment to lay waste the village, and bring away its inhabitants loaded with chains.
Those who are employed in the execution of severe commands frequently go beyond the orders they have received. Troops very ill disciplined spread their devastation over all the neighbouring country. They spared only the dwelling of Abosaber and six persons of his household; but they pillaged his granaries and his standing corn, with those of all the inhabitants.
The wife of Abosaber bewailed this disaster.
"We are ruined," said she to her husband; "you see our flocks carried off with those of the guilty, notwithstanding the orders they have to spare whatever belongs to us. See with what injustice we are treated. Speak to the officers of the King."
"I have spoken," said Abosaber, "but they have not time to hear me. Let us have patience: the evil will recoil on those who commit it. Unhappy the man who gives orders at once rigorous and urgent! unhappy the man who acts without reflection! I fear that the evils which the King has brought upon us will soon return upon himself."
An enemy of Abosaber had heard this discourse, and reported it to the King.
"Thus," said he, "speaks the man whom the goodness of your Majesty had spared!"
The monarch instantly gave orders that Abosaber, his wife, and his two children, should be driven from the village and banished from his dominions.
The wife of the wise and resigned Mussulman made loud complaints: she reproached the authors of her calamity, and carried her resentment to excess.
"Have patience, wife," said he to her: "this virtue is the sovereign balm against adversity; it gives salutary counsel, and carries with it hope and consolation. Let us go to the desert, since they persecute us here."
The good Abosaber lifted up his eyes and blessed the Almighty as he pursued his journey with his family. But they had scarcely entered the desert when they were attacked by a band of robbers. They were plundered, their children were carried off, and, deprived of every resource or human aid, they were left to the care of Providence.
The wife, having lost by this new stroke of fate what was most dear to her, gave free course to her grief, and set up mournful cries.
"Indolent man!" said she to her husband, "lay aside your listlessness. Let us pursue the robbers: if they have any feeling of humanity left, they will restore us our children."
"Let us have patience," replied Abosaber; "it is the only remedy for evils which appear desperate. These robbers are well mounted; naked and fatigued as we are, there is no probability of our overtaking them. And suppose we should succeed in that, perhaps these barbarous men, harassed with our lamentations, might put us to death."
The wife grew calm, for the decay of her strength made her unable to complain; and they both arrived on the bank of a river, from whence they discovered a village.
"Sit down here," said Abosaber to his wife; "I will go to seek a lodging and some clothes to cover us."
Saying this, he went away, taking the road to the village, from which they were not far distant.
Scarcely was Abosaber out of sight when a gentleman passing near her stopped in astonishment at seeing a most beautiful woman plundered and abandoned thus in a solitary road. He put several questions to her, which this singular adventure might seem to authorize, and she answered them with sufficient spirit. These replies increased the fancy of the young man.
"Madam," said he to her, "you seem formed to enjoy a happier lot, and if you will accept of that which I will prepare for you, follow me, and, together with my heart and hand, I offer you a situation that deserves to be envied."
"I have a husband," replied the lady, "to whom, unfortunate as he is, I am bound for life."
"I have no time," replied the gentleman, "to convince you of the folly of a refusal in your situation. I love you. Mount my horse without reply, or with one stroke of my scimitar I will terminate both your misfortunes and your life."
The wife of Abosaber, forced to yield, before she departed wrote these words upon the sand: "Abosaber, your patience hath cost you your fortune, your children, and your wife, who is carried off from you. Heaven grant that it may not prove still more fatal to you!"
While she traced these words, the gentleman quitted his horse's bridle, and when everything was ready, he seized his prey and disappeared.
Abosaber, on his return, sought for his spouse, and called upon her in vain. He demanded her of all nature, but nature was silent. He cast his eyes upon the ground, and there learned his misfortune. He could not restrain the first accents of grief: he tore his hair, rent his breast, and bruised himself with strokes. But soon becoming quiet, after all this agitation,
"Have patience, Abosaber!" said he to himself; "thou lovest thy wife, and art beloved by her. Allah hath undoubtedly suffered her to fall into the situation in which she is in order to snatch her from more dreadful evils. Does it become thee to search into the secrets of Providence? It is thy part to submit, and also to cease from fatiguing and offending Heaven by thy cries and thy complaints."
These reflections completely restored his tranquillity, and abandoning the design he had of returning to the village from which he came, he took the road to a city whose distant spires had attracted his attention.
As he approached it, he perceived a number of workmen engaged in constructing a palace for the King. The overseer of this work took hold of him by the arm, and obliged him to labour with his workmen, under pain of being sent to prison. Abosaber was forced to have patience, while he exerted himself to the utmost, receiving no wages but a little bread and water.
He had been a month in this laborious and unprofitable situation, when a workman, falling from a ladder, broke his leg. This poor unhappy man set up dreadful cries, interrupted by complaints and imprecations. Abosaber approached him.
"Companion," said he to him, "you increase your misfortunes instead of relieving them. Have patience! The fruits of this virtue are always salutary: it supports us under calamity, and such is its power that it can raise a man to the throne, even though he were cast into the bottom of a well."
The monarch of the country was at this moment at one of the windows of his palace, to which the cries of the unfortunate workman had drawn him. He had heard Abosaber's discourse, and was offended at it.
"Let this man be arrested," said he to one of his officers, "and brought before me."
The officer obeyed. Abosaber was in the presence of the tyrant whose pride he had unintentionally shocked.
"Insolent fellow!" said this barbarous King to him, "can patience then bring a man from the bottom of a well to a throne? Thou art going to put the truth of thy own maxim to the trial."
At the same time he ordered him to be let down to the bottom of a dry and deep well which was within the palace. There he visited him regularly every day, carrying him two morsels of bread.
"Abosaber," would he say to him, "you appear to me to be still at the bottom of the well: when is your patience to raise you to the throne?"
The more this unfeeling monarch insulted his prisoner, he became the more resigned.
"Let us have patience," would he say to himself; "let us not repel contempt with reproach; we are not suffered to avenge ourselves in any shape whatever. Let us allow the crime to come to its full height: Heaven sees, and is our judge. Let us have patience."
The King had a brother, whom he had always concealed from every eye in a secret part of the palace. But suspicion and uneasiness made him afraid lest he should one day be carried off and placed upon the throne. Some time ago he had secretly let him down into the bottom of this well we have spoken of. This unhappy victim soon sank under so many difficulties. He died, but this event was not known, although the other parts of the secret had transpired.
The grandees of the realm and the whole nation, shocked at the capricious cruelty, which exposed them all to the same danger, rose with one accord against the tyrant, and assassinated him. The adventure of Abosaber had been long since forgotten. One of the officers of the palace reported that the King went every day to carry bread to a man who was in the well, and to converse with him. This idea led their thoughts to the brother who had been so cruelly used by the tyrant. They ran to the well, went down into it, and found there the patient Abosaber, whom they took for the presumptive heir to the crown. Without giving him time to speak, or to make himself known, they conducted him to a bath, and he was soon clothed in the royal purple and placed upon the throne.
The new King, always steady to his principles, left Heaven to operate in his favour, and was patient. His deportment, his reserve, and his coolness disposed men to prophecy well of his reign, and the wisdom of his conduct justified these happy presages. Not contented to weigh with indefatigable patience the decisions of his own judgment, he was present as often as possible at all the business of the State. "Viziers, Cadis, ministers of justice," said he to them, "before deciding hastily, take patience and inquire."
They admired his wisdom, and yielded themselves to its direction. Such was the disposition of their minds with respect to him, when a train of events produced a great change in it.
A neighbouring monarch, driven from his dominions by a powerful enemy, vanquished, and followed by a small retinue, took refuge with Abosaber, and implored on his knees the hospitality, assistance, and good offices of a King renowned for his virtues, and especially for his patience.
Abosaber dismissed his divan to converse with this exiled Prince, and, as soon as they were alone, he said to him, "Behold in me Abosaber, your former subject, unjustly spoiled by you of all his fortune, and banished from your kingdom. Observe the just difference in the conduct of Heaven towards us. I departed from my village, reduced by you to the last point of wretchedness. I submitted, however, to my lot, was patient, and Providence hath conducted me to the throne, while your passionate, cruel, and rash conduct hath brought you down from one. It appears to me that, in seeing you thus at my discretion, I am commissioned to execute on you the decrees of Heaven, as a warning to the wicked."
After this reproof, and without waiting a reply, Abosaber commanded his officers to drive the exiled King and all his followers from the city. These orders were instantly put in execution, but they occasioned some murmurs. Should an unfortunate and suppliant King be treated with so much rigour? This seemed contrary to all the laws of equity, of humanity, and of policy.
Some time after this Abosaber, having been informed that a band of robbers infested a part of his dominions, sent troops in pursuit of them. They were surprised, surrounded, and brought before him. The King recognized them to be those who had carried off his children, and privately interrogated their chief.
"In such a situation," said he to him, "and in such a desert, you found a man, a woman, and two children. You plundered the father and mother, and carried away their children. What have you done with them? What is become of them?"
"Sire," replied the chief of the robbers, "these children are among us, and we will give them to your Majesty to dispose of them as you please. We are ready, moreover, to deliver into your hands all that we have heaped up in our profession. Grant us life and pardon; receive us into the number of your subjects; we will return from our evil courses, and no soldiers in your Majesty's service shall be more devoted to you than we."
The King sent for the children, seized the riches of the robbers, and caused their heads to be instantly struck off, without regarding their repentance or entreaties.
The subjects of Abosaber, seeing this hasty conduct, and recollecting the treatment of the exiled Monarch, in a short time did not know what might be their own. "What precipitation!" said they. "Is this the compassionate King, who, when the Cadi was about to inflict any punishment, continually repeated to him, 'Wait, examine, do nothing rashly; have patience'?" They were extremely surprised, but a new event rendered them still more astonished.
A gentleman came with complaints against his wife. Abosaber, before hearing them, said to him, "Bring your wife with you: if it be just for me to listen to your arguments, it cannot be less so to hear hers."
The gentleman went out, and in a few moments after returned with his wife. The King had scarcely looked at her, when he ordered her to be conducted into the palace, and the man's head to be cut off, who had come to complain of her. The order was obeyed. The Viziers, the officers, and the whole divan murmured aloud, that Abosaber might hear them.
"Never was there seen such an act of violence," said they among themselves. "The King who was beheaded was never guilty of so shocking an action, and this brother, coming out of a well, and promising at first wisdom and prudence, is carried in cold blood to an excess which borders on madness."
Abosaber listened and remained patient, till at length a wave of his hand having imposed silence, he spoke as follows:
"Viziers, Cadis, ministers of justice, and all ye vassals of the Crown who hear me, I have always advised you against precipitation in your judgments; you owe me the same attention, and I pray you hear me.
"Arrived at a point of good fortune to which I had never even dared to aspire, the circumstances which were necessary for my success being so difficult to be united; indifferent as to the crown which I wear, and to which I had no right by my birth; it only remains for me to gain your esteem by justifying the motives of my conduct, and making myself known to you.
"I am not brother to the King whom you judged unworthy to reign; I am a man of mean birth. Persecuted, undone, and driven from my country, I took refuge in this kingdom, after having seen my two children and my wife torn from me in the way. I devoutly submitted to the strokes which fate had laid on me, when, at the entrance of this city, I was seized by force, and constrained to labour at the building of the palace. Convinced in my mind that patience is the most necessary virtue to man, I exhorted one of my fellow-labourers to bear with resignation a dreadful evil he had met with in breaking his leg. Patience, said I to him, is so great a virtue, that it could raise a man to the throne, although he were cast into the bottom of a well.
"The King, my predecessor, heard me. This maxim shocked him, and that instant he caused me be let down into the well, from which you took me to set me on the throne.
"When a neighbouring monarch, driven by an usurper from his dominions, came to implore my assistance, I recognized in him my own Sovereign, who had unjustly stripped me of my possessions and sent me into banishment. I was not the only object of his capricious cruelties: I saw all his subjects groaning under them.
"The robbers, whom I punished, had carried off my children and reduced me to the last point of wretchedness.
"In fine, the gentleman whom I caused to be beheaded is he who violently took away my wife.
"In all these judgments, I have not had the revenge of my own particular offences in view. King of these dominions by your choice, the instrument of God upon earth, I did not think myself at liberty to yield to an arbitrary clemency, which would have weakened your power. It was my duty to execute the decrees of Providence upon such as were clearly convicted of guilt, and to cut off from society mortals too dangerous for it.
"A tyrannical King who respects not the laws, and is only directed by his passions and caprice, is the scourge of his people. If it is not lawful to make any attempt upon his life, it is still less so to grant him such assistance as would authorize him in the perpetual exercise of revenge, and in the indulgence of the injustice and atrocity of his disposition. It is even wise to deprive him of the means of it.
"Villains whose sole occupation is to attack caravans, plunder travellers, and who are accustomed to nothing but disorder, can never become useful and valuable citizens. They deserve still less to be admitted to the honour of defending their country. Banishment to them is only a return to their former life. By increasing their number, the evils of the world are rendered perpetual.
"The ravisher of a wife is a monster in society from which it ought to be freed. The man who indulges himself in this crime is capable of every other.
"Such are the motives of my conduct: severity costs me more than any one else. But I should have been unworthy of the confidence of my people, and wanting in the duties of the throne, had I not exercised it in this situation.
"If I have exceeded the limits of my authority, I am ready to resign it into your hands. Reunited to my wife and my children, and thus loaded with the most precious blessings of the Almighty, I should have nothing left but to wish you happy days under a government wiser than mine."
When Abosaber had finished this justification of his conduct, admiration and respect held the whole assembly in silence. Soon, however, a shout followed by a thousand others resounded through the divan.
"Long live Abosaber! long live our King! long live the patient monarch! may he live for ever! and may his reign endure to eternity!"
The King having returned into his apartment, sent for his wife and his children, and after yielding to the sweet impulses of nature, "Behold," said he to his spouse, "the fruits of patience, and the consequences of rashness. Give up at last your prejudices, and engrave on the hearts of our children these important truths. Good and evil happen under the inspection of Providence, and divine wisdom infallibly bestows the punishment or the reward. The patient man who submits to his lot is sooner or later crowned with honour."
After having ended his story Aladin kept a respectful silence. Bohetzad seemed lost in thought.
"How is it possible," said he, "that the maxims of wisdom should flow from the lips of a man whose heart must be corrupted, and whose soul must be guilty? Young man!" added he, addressing himself to the supposed criminal, "I will still defer your punishment till to-morrow. You are to be carried back to prison. The counsels which you have given me shall have their proper effect. A professed robber ought to be cut off from the class of citizens, from that of the defenders of the kingdom, and from the whole world. But as you have at the same time guarded me against precipitation in judgment, I consent that you may live during the remainder of this day and the following night."
At these words the King dismissed the assembly.
The Viziers took counsel together respecting the step they should take to secure the destruction of the favourite. Perceiving the punishment so often delayed, it was their business to alarm the King respecting the dangerous effects of his clemency, and his weakness in allowing himself to be led away by these discourses, prepared on purpose to suspend an act of justice which was absolutely necessary. He ought to banish from the people every suspicion of weakness on the part of the government, and show them that equity was its foundation.
The artful detail of this reasoning was entrusted to the Fourth Vizier; and this minister came next morning to Bohetzad to perform his part.
The poison of flattery was artfully mingled with remonstrances, which appeared to be dictated by a disinterested zeal, and made a deep impression on the King. He ordered the Superintendent to be brought before him, as formerly, with all the apparatus of punishment. "Unhappy man!" said he to him, "I have reflected enough to punish you for your crime. May your death, if it be possible, make me forget you for ever!"
"Sire," replied Aladin, with respect and firmness, "I receive with submission the sentence of my crime. It is dictated by circumstances; and were it not, I feel that the misery of having fallen under your disgrace would be worse to me. The sacrifice once made, I can repent of it no more. But the day will come, when your Majesty, regretting your unjust precipitation, will repent that you did not sufficiently consult the rules of prudence, as it happened to Bhazad, the son of Cyrus, founder of the Syrian empire."