BOOK II.
Hatim’s journey in quest of the Man of the Motto—His arrival at the famous Mountain of Kaf[1]—His finding the motto in question written on the door of Harith, from whom he learns its signification—His return, and safe arrival in Shahabad.
When Hatim was taking leave of Husn Banu, he asked her, “Pray can you tell me in what country the man lives?”—“I have not,” said the lady, “the least idea.” The nurse, however, replied, saying, “He resides in the city of Maâdin, which is in a northerly direction, but I know nothing further as to where that city is situated.” Hatim, without further delay, set out from Shahabad, and proceeded towards the north. After several days had thus passed, he approached the skirts of a desert. It was then drawing towards evening, and Hatim, observing a tree on the confines of the wilderness, halted underneath it, and began to look around him on all sides. On a sudden, a voice that betokened the deepest sorrow reached his ear. His heart glowed with pity; and he said in his own mind, “Oh, Hatim! dost thou think it proper that a fellow-creature overwhelmed in distress should be thus left to sigh and lament, without thy inquiring into the cause of his sorrows?”
Hatim got up, and followed the direction of the voice which he had heard. He saw a young man stretched upon the ground, with his cheeks bedewed with tears; his eyes languid, and his color pale, who sighed and lamented bitterly as he uttered the following couplet:—
“Whither can I go, whom can I consult? Oh, tell me what cure to apply, for the arrow of love has pierced my inward soul.”
Hatim addressed the youth, saying, “Friend, what calamity has befallen you to occasion your sighing and weeping in this manner?”—“Brother,” said the youth, “why should I relate the tale of my woe? My telling it can bring no relief, and my rehearsing it will increase my anguish.” Here Hatim most kindly said to him, “At least let me know where lies the difficulty.” The young man thus proceeded with his story: “I am a merchant, and I sometimes visit a spacious city distant from hence about four farasangs[2]. In that city lives a merchant named Harith, who has a daughter of surpassing beauty, resembling the full moon. One day I went to the city in the way of business, and happened to pass by the dwelling of Harith the merchant. The daughter was at that moment looking out at one of the windows, and all at once my eyes were attracted towards her. The instant I beheld this beauty my heart rebelled beyond my control, and reason abandoned my mind; in a word, I was taken captive in the fetters of love.
“I inquired of some of the people in the city, ‘Pray, sirs, whose house is this?’—‘It is,’ said they, ‘the residence of Harith’s daughter.’ I asked them further, ‘Can you tell me whether the lady be married or not?’ They replied, ‘Truly, sir, she is unmarried as yet; her father has three questions, and has resolved to bestow his daughter on that man only who can answer them.’ My uneasiness was so great that I straightway went to Harith’s gate, and sent him a message announcing my object. Harith replied, saying, ‘I have no control over my daughter in this case, she is left to choose for herself. She has three questions to propose, and she will accept as her husband the man who can answer them to her satisfaction.’
“I thence proceeded to the door of the apartment of Harith’s daughter, and by message announced my attendance. The lady invited me to enter, and having caused me to be seated in an elegant chamber, she sent me word to this effect: ‘First you must sign an agreement with me, and then I will converse with you.’ To this I replied, that I was ready to obey whatever she should command. The lady then informed me, ‘If you solve my three questions, I shall become entirely yours; but if you succeed not, all your wealth shall be mine.’ In my ardor I at once agreed to these conditions, and requested her further commands.
“She proceeded, saying, ‘My first question is this: in the vicinity of our city is a cave the inside of which no one has hitherto explored, nor is it known how far it extends; examine this cave, and let me know the result.
“‘My second question is as follows: on the night of Jumat[3] a voice is heard in the wilderness of some one who exclaims, “I have done nothing which can benefit me this night.” Bring me an account of this person, and tell me why he reiterates such an exclamation.
“‘My third question: There is a fairy named Mahpari, who has in her possession the precious stone called the Shahmuhra[4]; find out this fairy’s abode, and procure for me the jewel.’
“When she had finished her commands, I returned to my house and conveyed to her the whole of my wealth, of which she is now in possession. I then quitted the city, and made my way into this desert. Here I wander involved in calamities: on the one hand, I have parted with all my substance, and have deprived myself of a home; and on the other, the arrow of love still pierces my heart.”[5]
Hatim, on hearing the young man’s history, said to him, “Let your mind be easy as to this affair; only conduct me to that city, and I shall endeavor to put you in possession of your mistress, and restore to you your lost property.” The youth said, “In my present state my wealth would be useless; let me but gain my mistress, for without her my life will be insupportable.”
Hatim took the youth by the hand, and both set out for the city. When they arrived, they rested a little at a caravanseraï; there Hatim left his companion, and having gone to the gate of Harith’s daughter, he addressed the porter, saying, “Tell your mistress that I wish to speak with her on matrimonial affairs.” The attendants immediately conveyed the intelligence to their mistress, that a youth had arrived at the gate who longed to converse with her. The lady, on hearing this, threw on her veil, and gave orders that Hatim should be introduced. She then stated to him the three queries above-mentioned, concerning which Hatim replied, “If your father will enter into a written agreement with me, I will solve your questions. The terms are as follows: when I shall have brought satisfactory answers to your questions, you must submit to be bestowed by me on whomsoever I please, and the choice of your disposal shall be left entirely with me.”
“When you have answered my questions,” said the lady, “I shall be yours; and then you may dispose of me as you deem proper.”—“Enough,” said Hatim; “now send for your father.” The father accordingly attended, and Hatim received from him a written agreement to the effect already stated. The daughter, addressing Hatim, said, “If you should prove unsuccessful in the solution of any of the above queries, what will be the consequence?”—“Wealth,” said Hatim, “I have none, but my head is at your disposal.” On hearing this, the lady was satisfied, and at Hatim’s request, thus stated her first question: “In the vicinity of this city is a cave, well known to all the inhabitants; bring me a true account of it, and inform me of its innermost secrets.”
Hatim took leave of the lady, and taking with him some of her people as guides, he set out from the city, and soon arrived at the mouth of the cave, which was situated about three farasangs distant. When the guides had brought Hatim to the mouth of the cave, he said to them, “Now, whether will you return to the city, or remain here till I come out?” They answered him, saying “We are ordered not to quit this spot till you come out, so here we shall remain; meanwhile one of us shall return to the city, in order to procure food.”
Hatim threw himself into the cave, and began to explore his way. For the whole of that, and several successive days, he continued to advance, till at last he saw a glimmering light. He then supposed that he had reached the extremity of the cave, and bethought himself that he ought to return. But on further consideration, he said in his own mind, “If people ask of me aught concerning the mysteries of its interior, what answer can I give?” He therefore issued out from the extremity of the cave, and continued to advance. Before him lay a boundless desert, through which flowed rivulets of water. Hatim had brought with him from the city two bags full of kernels of almonds, and a flask full of water. Of these he ate a few every day, and after expressing his thanks to the Creator, he pursued his route, and when his flask full of water was exhausted, he supplied himself from the streams that flowed through the desert.
After journeying for several days, Hatim beheld a lofty and extensive rampart, and after examining it all around he discovered that there was a town within it. He entered within the walls, and as he advanced towards the town found traces of its being inhabited; and when he approached still nearer, he saw that the natives were demons.[6]
The moment that Hatim was perceived by the demons they rushed upon him, male and female, and having surrounded him, they seized him with the intention of tearing him to pieces, in order to devour him. One of the demons interfered, saying, “This is one of Adam’s race, and his flesh is a most delicious morsel; if you appropriate him to your own use, and our king should know of it, he will certainly annihilate every soul of you. You must not therefore touch a hair of him without the king’s permission.” The demons asked, in return, “Who is he that will convey the information to the king?” The other replied, “Among us there are many enemies; therefore listen to my advice, and lay not a finger on this man.”
The demons accordingly left Hatim and retired to their haunts. Hatim then proceeded onwards through the city, and was very soon surrounded and laid hold of by others. Here his case was truly desperate, for they were ready to devour him. One of them, however, again interfered, and thus addressed them: “The deed you are about to do will be fatal to you. You must so proceed in this affair that the earthly man be conveyed to the king. His Majesty’s daughter is sick, and he himself is afflicted with an inward pain, from which he never enjoys a moment’s respite. Thousands of the human race have been procured, and are now kept in confinement by our monarch, but as yet he has found no remedy; and at the same time his Majesty says that he is to be cured by one of the sons of Adam. If, in short, the king should hear that in such a town a man should have arrived and been devoured by you, he would punish with death both yourselves and your wives and children. If, on the other hand, his Majesty’s health should be restored, what can be more gratifying? And if otherwise, why, then, this man will be kept in confinement along with the rest of his species.”
To this replied another of the demons: “We lately conveyed such a being as this to his Majesty, but no cure was the consequence; so we had nothing but reproaches for our trouble. Why should we concern ourselves with this man? Since he has once entered our country he cannot escape, and it is best to let him make his way to the king of his own accord, and I shall watch him in order that no one else may assail him.”
When Hatim had listened to this conversation of the demons, he said in his own mind, “Now, I wonder what can be the nature of their monarch’s disease? I must inquire into his case, as well as that of his daughter.” Having made this resolution, he departed and left the town. Shortly after he beheld at a distance another of their towns; and as he approached it, the demon inhabitants came upon him and carried him before their chief. Now it happened that the wife of the chief had a violent pain in her eyes, from which water constantly flowed.
When the demons entered with Hatim, the chief raised his head, which was bent downwards in sorrow for his wife, and thus addressed them: “Why have you brought hither this man? Release him, and let him go where he pleaseth.” When Hatim beheld the anguish of the chief, his heart was moved with pity, and he said to himself, “I must inquire into the cause of his affliction.” He approached, and said, “Most worthy chief, what grieves thee, and why sittest thou thus melancholy?”—“Son of man,” replied the demon chief, “what avails my telling thee? My wife is tormented with a pain in her eyes, without any interval of relief.”—“If,” said Hatim, “thou wilt conduct me to her presence, I will cure her of her pain.”
The demon rose up, and seizing Hatim by the hand, led him forthwith into his wife’s apartment. In passing, Hatim was struck with admiration as he viewed the princely couches that lined the spacious galleries laid out with neatness and regularity; and a splendid throne with piles of cushions, on which reclined the wife of the chief. As they approached her, the demon said to Hatim, “Behold in what a sea of affliction she is involved!”—“Of that,” said Hatim, “I will completely cure her, if thou wilt promise to conduct me to the king of the demons.”
The chief swore by the seal of Solomon[7], the prophet of Iram, and said, “Nothing can be more agreeable to me than to conduct thee before his Majesty, for it will afford me an opportunity of paying him my respects, and besides he is desirous to have some one of thy race that may cure him of his disease.” Hatim had brought with him the pearl which his wife had given him at parting with strict injunctions to preserve it, telling him at the same time, “This is a token of my affection, and is possessed of many virtues.” He now drew forth this pearl, and having immersed it in pure water, he applied the latter to the eyes of the chief’s wife. The instant this remedy was applied, her pain was alleviated, and the swelling of her eyes diminished, and they dried up. For some time previous she had been quite blind; but she now opened her eyes, and after two or three applications of this remedy she experienced a complete cure.
When the chief of the demons saw that his wife was cured, he with the utmost kindness detained Hatim some time at his house, and hospitably entertained him, and bestowed upon him every attention in his power. After some days he conducted him into the presence of the king, whose name was Farokash. When the demon chief was honored with an audience from his king, having made a low obeisance, he respectfully stood before his Majesty, and thus represented his errand: “Sire, one of the human race is come into my possession; he is the most learned of the age, and the most skilful of physicians, possessed of a most benevolent heart. My wife was so afflicted with a pain in her eyes that her life was despaired of, and in one day he completely cured her.”
When Farokash, the monarch of the demons, heard this intelligence, his heart rejoiced, and he gave orders to the chief to produce this learned man with all speed. Hatim was presented to the king, who treated him with great courtesy, and made him sit beside him. His Majesty then stated his case, saying, “For some time I have been afflicted with a pain in my stomach, and amidst my own subjects no one has been successful in curing me. Remediless, I have had recourse to the human race, but none of them has as yet afforded me the least relief.”
Hatim said to the king, “Pray tell me, Sire, are there many of your servants usually in attendance when you sit down to take food?” His Majesty replied, that every one of his servants usually stood in his presence at such times. Hatim then requested that he should be allowed to be present on that day when his Majesty should dine, which request was readily granted.
When the time of eating arrived, the table was laid out, and the food was placed upon it. When his Majesty was about to commence eating, Hatim requested him to desist for a little. He then took a joint of meat, and held it up so that every eye in the house might look upon it. He then ordered them to lay it aside under cover for about the space of an hour, after which he caused the cover to be removed, and lo! all the meat on the joint had in that short time become worms. Farokash was an observer of this wonderful occurrence, and remarked to Hatim, “Most learned Sir, this is truly strange.”—“This, Sire,” said Hatim, “accounts for the pain you suffer, and the cause of it is that a malignant eye has fallen upon the meat. Henceforth it will be necessary that you eat in private, and that all your attendants be previously satisfied with food; then your Majesty may eat to advantage, for the consequence will be a complete cure, and the pain will be removed.”
The king was highly pleased with Hatim’s advice, which he forthwith put in practice; and in a short time his pain entirely left him, and he enjoyed perfect health. He gratefully clasped Hatim to his bosom, and placed him upon a throne similar to his own. Hatim, thus honored, ventured to petition the king of the demons as follows: “Sire, you are now restored to health; may I beg that you will liberate such of my fellow-creatures as are now your prisoners, in order that they may return to their own country?”
His Majesty ordered that all the sons of Adam then in his possession should be ushered into his presence, which was done. He bestowed on each of them a splendid dress, and having furnished them with necessaries for their journey, dismissed them. The king then addressed Hatim, saying, “Learned Sir, I have a favor to ask of you, if it be not too much trouble for you to grant it.”—“It will afford me a sincere pleasure,” said Hatim, “to comply with your commands.”—“I have a daughter,” rejoined the king, “who has been sick for some time, and my wish is, that you will for an instant visit her.” To this Hatim readily assented, and the king, taking him by the hand, conducted him into the more private apartments of the house, and gave orders that his daughter should attend.
As the daughter of Farokash entered, Hatim viewed her face, the color of which had become pale and yellow. He gave orders to bring some water and sugar. These he mixed together so as to form a pleasant draught; he then dropped into it the charmed pearl, and handed the goblet to the king’s daughter to drink. In a short time she experienced great relief, and when night came she enjoyed a most profound sleep. At length her father, somewhat alarmed, said to Hatim, “Pray tell me, most learned man, what means this long sleep?”—“Sire, rest you satisfied; if this sleep had not ensued, we should have had cause to fear.”
For the space of three days Hatim continued to administer this draught to his patient, after which period she was allowed some small quantity of light food; and in the course of ten or fifteen days she was restored to perfect health, and her countenance assumed its natural appearance. Hatim then addressed Farokash, saying, “Your daughter is completely cured, so I hope you will allow me to depart, in order that I may look after my affairs.”
Farokash brought for Hatim’s acceptance such a mine of wealth, in gold and jewels as to be beyond calculation. His Majesty at the same time apologized to Hatim for such an offer, saying, “This dross is indeed unfit to be presented to you, but it will suit your servants and attendants; I therefore hope you will accept it as a mark of my regard.” Here Hatim observed, “I am alone; how then shall I be able to carry it?” On hearing this, the king gave orders to his demon subjects, saying, “Let all this wealth be carefully packed up, and you shall accompany this worthy man, in order to carry it to whatsoever place he may desire.”
Hatim took leave of the king, and taking the jewels and gold, departed under the guidance of the demons. In about six months he arrived at the extremity of the cave through which he had entered the dominions of Farokash. The guides accompanied him through the cave, and in the space of three days landed him safe at its mouth. Hatim asked them, “Have you any objections to go further?” They replied, “Our orders will not permit us to accompany you beyond the mouth of the cave”; and accordingly they laid down their burdens of gold and jewels on that same spot, and forthwith began to retrace their steps.
When the people that had been stationed at the mouth of the cave by Harith’s daughter saw the demons, they all ran off. Hatim shouted after them, “Good people, be not afraid; I am Hatim, the man who some time ago entered in order to explore this cave. I am now safely returned; why then do you run away from me?” The people looked back, and seeing Hatim, they recognized him and returned.
Hatim having sent for the youth whom he had left in the caravanseraï at his departure, said to him, “On you I bestow all this money and these jewels which I have procured.” He then caused the valuable effects to be conveyed into the city to the young man’s residence. The youth fell at Hatim’s feet, but the latter raised him up, and clasped him to his bosom.
Meanwhile the people belonging to Harith’s daughter conveyed to their mistress the news of Hatim’s arrival. The merchant’s daughter immediately sent for him, and requested to know the result of his adventure. He minutely detailed to her the nature of the cave, and every circumstance connected with his journey among the demons. He then said to her, “Thus I have answered one of your questions; let me now hear your next, that I may immediately set about its solution.”
Harith’s daughter stated her second question, as follows: “There is heard in the desert the voice of a man, who exclaims, ‘I have done nothing which can benefit me this night.’”
On hearing this, Hatim returned to the caravanseraï, and after taking leave of the young man, set out for the desert. One night, which happened to be that of Jumat, as he was reclining under a tree, occupied in adoring the Supreme Creator, suddenly his ears caught the sound, “I have done nothing which might have been of service to me this night.” For the whole of that night Hatim continued to advance in the direction from which the sound reached his ear. When daylight came he again sat down under the shade of a tree, and began to deliberate with himself whether he should turn to the right hand or to the left.
While he was thus uncertain as to his route, he happened to espy a village on the confines of the desert. Thither he bent his steps, in order to take some repose till the night of Jumat should again arrive. When it came to the appointed hour, Hatim once more heard the sound repeated, and speedily set out in order to make up to it. He entered the desert, and for the whole of that night continued to advance without arresting his steps for an instant.
When daylight shone upon him, he halted for the purpose of repose, and soon after his ears were assailed with the voice of sorrow and lamentation. He started up, and after advancing some distance he beheld a village, the inhabitants of which were all assembled together weeping and lamenting bitterly. Hatim approached, and asked one of them, “What is the cause of your weeping and lamentation?” They answered him, “Once a week a monstrous giant comes to our village, and devours one of our number; and if we do not appease him by the sacrifice of a human creature, he will raze our abodes to the dust, and destroy us all. At present the lot has fallen on the son of our chief; on Thursday the monster will come, and the four days that intervene till that time are devoted to weeping and mourning. The youth’s relations are at this moment standing around him, extolling his virtues and lamenting his fate. This, Sir, is the cause of the grief that now overwhelms our village.”
Hatim inquired of the people, “Which of this assembly is the chief’s son, and which the parents and relatives?” These were pointed out to Hatim, who approached the chief, and said to him, “Honored Sir, pray tell me what sort of monster is this, and what form does he assume? Meanwhile be under no anxiety, for I, as substitute for your son, will face the giant.” The chief replied, “Brave youth! may heaven reward your generosity; you seem a stranger too in our village.”—“Suffice it for the present,” said Hatim, “that I have drunk of your waters; you have therefore a claim upon my friendship; only describe to me in what form this monster appears.”
The chief of the village drew a sketch of the monster upon the sand; on seeing which, Hatim observed, “This must be the giant Halūka; he is invulnerable against all weapons, but if you will follow my directions, I trust that, if it please God the Supreme, I may be able to overcome him.” The people anxiously asked, “How is this to be done?” Hatim, addressing the chief, said, “Are there any manufacturers of glass in your village?”—“There are,” said the chief, “two or three houses for that purpose.”
Immediately Hatim, accompanied by the chief, proceeded to the houses of the glass manufacturers, and gave orders to the latter to this effect: “Within four days you must make a mirror of two hundred feet in length and one hundred feet in breadth. Such a mirror will be necessary for the expulsion of the giant, and if you comply not he will destroy the whole of your village.” The glass manufacturers replied, “If you furnish us with the materials, we shall be able to have your mirror ready within the time specified.” Here the chief said to them, “Whatever amount of money may be of use to you, I shall furnish”; and he immediately sent them the sum they demanded. They then set about the forming of the mirror, and in the space of three days their task was finished.
When Hatim was informed that the mirror was ready, he commanded the men of the city to assemble, in order to convey the mirror to a certain spot without the city by which the giant usually entered. The people obeyed him, and conveyed the mirror safe to the appointed spot, and there erected it. Hatim then told them to bring as many sheets as when sewed together would cover the surface of the mirror, which order was speedily executed by the chief and his attendants.
Hatim now addressed the multitude, saying, “My good friends, you may in the meantime retire to your houses without the least uneasiness of mind. This night you may sleep in security; and if any of you is desirous to see the result of my stratagem, let him remain here with me.” The son of the chief promptly spoke out, “I will be your companion”; but his father forbade him, saying, “Already my wealth is expended in order to purchase your safety; why then do you venture to face the giant?”
On hearing this remark, Hatim said to the chief, “There is nothing to fear; you may rest satisfied that no harm will befall your son. If he should suffer the least injury, you shall be at liberty to do with me what you choose.” Here the youth himself boldly answered, “A few days ago, you had all resolved to sacrifice me to this monster; you will allow, then, that I am under no great obligations to you. I prefer the society of this brave man, who has been the means of my preservation. Would you be thought void of religion and reckless of fame? When a man who is an utter stranger places himself in so perilous a situation in order to avert the evil that threatens you, is it consistent with religion and honor to leave him alone, and retire to your houses?”
All the people, on hearing this address, insisted on remaining in company with Hatim; and having dressed some food in the open plain, they ate and rejoiced, saying, “This night the giant shall be destroyed.” The whole of that day passed, and when night arrived, a most terrific yell assailed their ears, such as usually accompanied the approach of the giant. They shuddered, and their faces assumed a yellow hue. “Fear not,” said Hatim; “keep strict silence, and be not under the least apprehension. You shall soon behold rare sport; the monster is coming, as is indicated by that howl.”
In the course of an hour the giant was so near as to be distinctly seen in shape like an immense dome. He had neither hands nor feet, but a tremendous mouth situated in the midst of his body. He advanced with a revolving motion, and from his jaws issued volumes of flame and clouds of smoke. When the people saw this terrific spectacle they trembled, and attempted to fly. “You have nothing to fear,” said Hatim, “stand quiet and look on; not the least harm will befall you.” Encouraged by Hatim’s address they stood silent as the dead, and trembling beheld the approach of the giant.
Hatim stood with his eye fixed on Halūka as he rolled towards him; and when the giant was within a few paces of the mirror, the curtain that covered it was suddenly pulled off. When Halūka beheld his own monstrous form in the glass, his breath was stopped from anger; he uttered a single yell, so loud as to make the desert and the mountains shake. Choking with rage, he remained for a short time, till at last his confined breath so inflated him that he burst with a noise like the crash of the thunderbolt, so that the hearers were struck senseless, and the echoes of the wilderness reverberated far and wide.
When the people were restored to their senses, what a spectacle they beheld! The desert was overspread with the entrails of Halūka, who now lay dead before them. The whole assembly, including the chief and his son, gathered around Hatim and prostrated themselves at his feet. They then addressed him: “Most learned Sir, tell us the reason why the monster has thus died as it were of his own accord.”—“You see,” replied Hatim, “the giant has come by his death, not from any weapon, but merely by the viewing of his own image, for he had never seen his own likeness in any other creature; rage stopped his breath so effectually that he burst.”
Next day the inhabitants of the village, each according to his means, produced all their valuables in gold, jewels, and diamonds, and offered them to Hatim, who would accept nothing, saying, “My good friends, these are not of the least use to me. In this affair I have merely discharged my duty towards God and my fellow-creatures.”—“May we ask,” said they, “what has been the cause of your coming into our village?” Hatim answered, “This is the eve of Jumat, when a voice will be heard in the desert, crying, ‘I have not done aught that will benefit me this night.’ In order to ascertain the meaning of this voice, I have journeyed hither, and to-night I intend to travel in pursuit of the mysterious being who utters the exclamation.”
The chief observed, “For some time now that voice has been heard by us also, but we do not know whence it proceeds.” Hatim remained in the village for the whole of that day, and at the usual time at night the voice reached his ear, and he instantly proceeded in the direction whence it came. For the whole of the night he continued to advance as he supposed towards the sound, and when daylight came he found himself still in the desert, where he again halted.
In short, Hatim thus journeyed onwards week after week for the space of two months, at the expiration of which period he at last came to a mound of sand of about five hundred feet in diameter. He ascended to the summit, and soon discovered that the voice issued from its interior. He halted and looked around him; and lo! a body of men consisting of about five hundred horsemen, and as many on foot, appeared drawn up in array before him. He approached them, but found that they were all statues of marble, being as he conjectured monuments of the illustrious dead. Among these tombs Hatim rested for a week, until the time of hearing the voice should again come round.
As the evening of Jumat closed its shades, Hatim ascended the sand-hill, and devoutly kneeling, poured out his soul in prayer before the Almighty Creator. When about a watch of the night had passed, the inmates of the tombs started into life, with countenances resembling angels. They arrayed the place with couches and thrones, on which they sat apparelled in robes of splendid description. But amidst these, one of the revived dead, with weeping eyes and mean apparel, his body sprinkled with dust and ashes, and his feet bare, came forth, and in humble posture sat upon the cold ground. Before each of those who sat on thrones and couches flowed streams of nectar, of which they freely drank, but none of them gave the least drop to the wretched man who sat upon the bare earth. The latter, after some time, fetched a deep sigh, and said, “Alas! I have not done that which might have benefited me this night.”
Hatim stood near and witnessed the whole scene, and rejoiced that his inquiries were now likely to prove successful. When the hour of midnight arrived, a table miraculously placed itself before each of them. On every table was laid a large vessel full of rice and milk, with a goblet full of pure water. But there stood a table apart from the rest furnished in like manner, and one of the company said, “Come, my friends, this traveller is our guest for the time, let him be introduced, and seated at this unoccupied table.” On hearing this, one of them arose, and advancing to Hatim, took him kindly by the hand, and conducting him to a couch, placed food before him.
Hatim’s attention was wholly occupied by the man who lay on the ground sighing and weeping, and at intervals exclaiming, “I have not done aught that can benefit me this night.” The latter, too, had a table, but instead of nectar and ambrosia his cup was filled with the juice of the zakkūm,[8] and the food of the condemned, and the most loathsome dregs mingled with blood. Hatim for some time held down his head in deep reflection, and at last began to taste of the fare before him. After he had refreshed himself with food and drink, the tables vanished from his view; but his thoughts ever reverted to the mysterious state of the wretched being who sat upon the ground before him.
Hatim, addressing the company, said, “Most worthy sirs, I have one request which, with your permission, I wish to state.” The whole assembly requested him to speak. Hatim then proceeded: “How comes it, worthy sirs, that you are seated on thrones, exalted in dignity, and regaled with such heavenly and delicious fare? And, on the other hand, tell me the reason why, instead of such food, the juice of the zakkūm with the most loathsome of dregs has been allotted as the portion of this miserable man who lies stretched on the bare earth?” To this they replied, “From us that mystery is utterly hidden; seek information from the sufferer himself.”
Hatim arose, and coming up to the man, said, “Pray, friend, what is the meaning of this mysterious exclamation which you utter? From what cause are you become involved in such misery? For heaven’s sake inform me of your condition.” The man of woe replied, “My kind friend, I am the chief of all this assembly. My name is Yusuf, and my occupation has been that of a merchant. I was journeying with goods and stores to the city of Khwarzim, and those whom you see here were my servants that attended me. In my disposition I was so great a miser that I never gave away in charity a single farthing of my money, nor one rag of apparel, nor a morsel of food; nay, not even a drop of water would I bestow on my fellow-creatures. These my attendants, on the other hand, were wont to give of their food to the hungry, and they clothed the naked, and bestowed their gold in charity upon the poor and the needy, and all such as were destitute. I used to chide them severely, saying, ‘Pray, for what purpose do you thus squander your money, and give away your food without any return?’ Their reply was: ‘This we do as a service acceptable to our Creator, and due to our fellow-creatures; a service of which we shall receive the reward and reap the advantages in a future state.’ On receiving from them such answers, I used to beat them, and often did I threaten them with punishment on account of their liberality. I also argued with them, but to no effect; and whenever any of them ventured to give me salutary advice, I paid not the least regard to him.
“On our journey a gang of robbers surrounded and overpowered us, and seized the whole of my property. They then murdered myself and all my attendants, and having buried us in this spot, they departed. Here we rest, alike martyrs: but my servants are, as you observe, crowned with glory for their charitable and generous disposition; and I, on account of my baseness and avarice, am plunged into the lowest depth of misery. After the robbers had murdered us, it was their intention to mutilate and leave exposed our corpses; but one of them said: ‘Have you not already seized their property, and slain them without cause? How inhuman then it would be to leave them unburied on the highway! Do you imagine that after such a savage deed you can ever enjoy the least portion of their wealth!’ The robbers listened to this address, and accordingly interred us in this desert.
“In my native country, my grandchildren and descendants are now living in a state of abject poverty. My residence was in the capital of China, in such a quarter [here he described the street and the house], and in a certain chamber of the house is buried an immense treasure in gold and jewels, of which no one has any information. This, too, is an instance of my avaricious disposition, and accounts for the state in which you now behold me. See what an exalted rank my servants have attained! They are seated upon thrones; they fare upon the most delicious food, and drink of the purest and coolest streams, and are clothed in the apparel of angels, while I am doomed to suffer the pangs of misery and despair.”
Hatim, on hearing this account, addressed him, saying, “Is it anyhow possible to administer to your relief?” Yusuf replied, “Many a long year have I now passed in this state of torment, but no one has hitherto listened to my cries. This night you have approached me, and compassionately interested yourself in my condition; on you, then, God the Supreme will bestow his guidance in your endeavors to serve me. Proceed forthwith to the capital of China, and find out my residence, which is in the division occupied by the linen merchants. My name, as I told you, is Yusuf, and in my day I was notorious in all quarters of the city, and my grandchildren are still there in a state of destitution. When you arrive at my residence, inform them of my condition, and tell them that in a certain apartment [which he particularly described] is buried a vast treasure of gold and jewels. This treasure you shall bring to light, and divide into four equal portions. Bestow one of these shares on my grandchildren, and the other three you shall expend in charitable deeds; in feeding the hungry, in clothing the naked, and in administering to the distress of the poor and needy. Do this, and perhaps my doom may be averted; for though I have suffered martyrdom, I am not entitled to salvation, so heinous is the crime of avarice; whereas my servants, on account of their liberality, are now in a state of happiness.”
Hatim solemnly promised, in the name of his Creator, that he would strictly perform what Yusuf desired him, and added: “I should no longer consider myself of the tribe of Taï, had I refused to lend you my aid in your distress.” Hatim remained there during the whole of the night, and witnessed what happiness the servants enjoyed, while their wretched master passed his time in weeping and lamentation. When the morning began to dawn the martyrs vanished from his sight, each into his silent cell.
Hatim then set out on his journey for the capital of China, and after he had advanced a considerable way, he arrived at the mouth of a well. There he espied a man in the act of drawing water; and as he was about to request of him to have some to drink, suddenly a serpent as large as the proboscis of an elephant reared its head from the water, and coiling itself round the body of the man, plunged with him into the deep. Hatim wrung his hands in agony, and exclaimed, “Alas! what a deed this snake has perpetrated! It has destroyed a poor man who came hither for water, and whose wife and children are anxiously expecting his return. Oh, Hatim! shall it be said that a poor man was deprived of life, and you standing by without lending him the least assistance? What will be your answer hereafter in the presence of your Creator?”
Thus he soliloquized, and instantly plunged into the water. In a short time he fixed his feet on firm ground, and on opening his eyes he was astonished in finding neither the well nor the water; but instead of these a spacious plain opened to his view, abounding with beautiful trees, in the midst of which he espied a lofty palace. He approached it, wondering within himself whither the serpent could have gone with the waterman, and whence sprung up the noble mansion that stood before him.
With these thoughts occupying his mind, he came close to the palace. There he beheld splendid galleries with elegant couches, and a throne brilliant as crystal surmounted with piles of cushions, on which lay asleep a monstrous creature of human form in stature like a giant. Hatim resolved on calling this monster to account for the snake and the waterman, but at the same time he hesitated, as he nowhere beheld any traces either of the serpent or the man. “At all events,” said Hatim to himself, “I shall approach him, and see what sort of subject he is.” Hatim went up to the giant, and as the latter was still asleep, he quietly took his seat beside him. He had not sat long when he espied in a corner of the garden the very serpent that had carried off the waterman.
As soon as the snake observed Hatim it rushed upon him, and he, enraged on account of the fate of the waterman, seized it by the two jaws, and exerting his whole strength, thus held it immovable. The snake raised such a hissing noise, that the giant who slept on the throne started up, and roared out to Hatim, “You son of man, what are you about? that is my courier.” Hatim replied, “I will not quit my hold unless my friend be restored to me.”
The giant called out to the serpent, “Beware: this seems to be a powerful man, and capable of tearing thy jaws asunder. Above all, take care that he discover not the passage into thy mouth!” When Hatim heard this, he stretched open the two jaws of the serpent, entered its mouth, and was instantly swallowed, notwithstanding the repeated warnings of the giant to the contrary. Arrived, as he thought, in the abdomen of the snake, he was surprised at finding himself in a spacious and sombre apartment. He began to grope his way through this strange abode, when suddenly a voice reached his ear, saying, “Oh, Hatim! whatsoever you meet with in this apartment, cut it with your dagger, for by that means only you will be released from this enchantment; and otherwise you cannot escape hence till the day of judgment.”
While Hatim was thus exploring his dark abode, he unexpectedly laid his hand on something in the shape of a heart. The moment he felt this substance he pulled out his knife and cut it into many pieces, agreeably to the warning voice he had heard. This was no sooner done than a flood of water rushed upon him, and he found himself overwhelmed amidst swelling billows. Exhausted, he began to sink, and after some time he once more felt the ground underneath his feet. He opened his eyes and looked around him, but no trace could he see of the palace, the giant, the serpent, the garden, or the dark chamber where he had lately been. Before him lay a boundless desert, strewed apparently with dead bodies. On coming nearer he observed that a few of these wretches were still alive, while others were in the agonies of death.
Among the living, Hatim discovered the very waterman whom the snake had carried off. He made up to him, and said, “Brother, how came you here?” The waterman replied, “I was drawing water from the well, when a serpent carried me off, and having conveyed me hither, vanished from my sight. What that serpent is, or where it is gone to, I know not.” Hatim questioned various other individuals as to their coming thither, and from all of them received for answer that the serpent had brought them. He then explained to them the nature of the enchantment by which they were held, and how he had broken the spell by entering the mouth of the snake, and cutting to pieces the heart in the dark chamber. He concluded, saying, “Give praise to God, for your enemy is now vanquished, and you are at liberty to go wherever you please.” The wretched men replied, “It is a long time since some of us came hither, and we know not the way by which we were brought. Most of our number have died of hunger and thirst, and we also were despairing of life; God the Supreme has in his mercy destined thee to be our deliverer.”
Hatim, after giving them proper directions, took his leave, and proceeded on his journey to the capital of China. In the course of a few days he entered that vast empire, and arrived at one of their principal cities. The sentinels at the gate immediately seized him, and said, “Who are you, and whither do you go? You must come before our governor, and give an account of yourself before we can allow you to advance any further.” Hatim, thus roughly handled, said to them, “Good people, is it the custom of your empire to annoy travellers in this manner?”
The sentinels replied, “The reason why we detain you is this: The daughter of our governor asks three questions of every traveller that enters the city; if he give a satisfactory answer, he is permitted to go his way, and if not, he is put to death; from which circumstance our city is called the city of Be-dad or Injustice.” Hatim having no choice, accompanied the sentinels, meditating as to the nature of the questions which would be put to him. At length the sentinels presented him to the governor: the latter asked of him, “Stranger, whence come you, and what is your name?”—“I am from Yemen,” said he, “and on my way to the capital of China. As to my name, it does not concern you: no one ought to annoy the traveller unnecessarily; on the other hand, he is entitled to kind treatment and hospitality from your hand, if you wish to set a good example to the world, and do what is acceptable to God the Supreme.”
The governor replied, “A severe scourge has fallen upon our city, which has always been famous for equity, so as to have merited the appellation of Adālatabad (the city of justice); but now, owing to the violent caprice of my daughter, its present name is Bedadabad. For some time past every traveller that arrived in our city has on her account been put to death, and their blood has fallen upon my head.” After some meditation, Hatim said to him, “Why do you not slay your daughter at once?”—“Is it possible,” replied the governor, “for any man to be the murderer of his own child, nay, of his only child? It is not in my heart to put her to death.” When Hatim heard this appeal, his eyes shed tears as he replied, “Alas, miserable man! you have no remedy. May the Almighty Creator remove from you this heavy affliction.” The governor of Adālatabad then conducted Hatim to his daughter’s apartment. The lady arrayed herself in her finest apparel, and summoned Hatim into the apartment occupied by the women, where she reclined upon a throne of shining gold. Hatim was struck with her beauty, which excelled that of all other mortals. She gracefully stood up, and modestly drawing her veil over her face, received Hatim with extreme courtesy and affection, for the instant she beheld him her heart felt for him. She took him by the hand and seated him upon a splendid throne, while she herself occupied another beside him.
She then sent for her nurse, and said to her, “My dear mother, this traveller who has arrived to-day has won my heart, and is mutually enamoured of me. He seems of noble rank; but, alas! to-morrow his life shall be sacrificed.” The nurse replied, “Alas, my child! it is your destiny to act with violence and oppression towards travellers, not even excepting this comely and noble youth; but there is no saying whether he may not prove successful in executing your commands.”—“Let me but know,” said Hatim, “the nature of the task which the lady proposes, and the reason why so many travellers are sacrificed in this city, which is now proverbial for cruelty.”—“Noble youth,” the nurse replied, “every night this lady becomes possessed of an evil spirit, and utters the most incoherent expressions, after which she proposes three enigmas to such strangers as may be found within the city. If the latter fail in solving her riddles, she causes them to be instantly put to death. None of us her attendants can venture to remain near her at such times lest some evil might be our lot.”
On hearing this statement, Hatim replied, “Well, I shall soon know by experience whether longer life or immediate death be destined for me.” He was then presented with food: but he rejected it, saying, “I will not eat of your food until I have accomplished the service you may impose upon me; such is my vow. I consider it inconsistent with probity in a man to waste his time in eating and drinking, or wantonly to throw away his life and leave unfinished the business intrusted to him by another; forgive me, then, for refusing your bounty.”—“Generous youth,” said the nurse, “I am confident that you will succeed in this affair; you speak the sentiments of rectitude and honor.”
Night arrived, and all the servants and attendants abandoned the palace, and shut fast the gates behind them, leaving Hatim to his fate. About the end of the first watch the lady became frantic, and spoke incoherently whatever came into her mind. She wildly cast her eyes on Hatim, and thus addressed him: “Stranger, who are you, and what is your business here? Answer my riddle, or you shall die.”—“What is your riddle?” said Hatim; “let me hear it.”
The lady then proceeded with her first question, which Hatim, after mature reflection, was fortunate enough to solve to her satisfaction, though it was of a nature unsuited for publication to the world and is therefore left unuttered here. “Tell me,” she then said, “the answer to my second question, which is this: There is a fruit sweet beyond measure to the taste of all living creatures, whether genii, men, beasts or birds; what fruit is this of which all are so fond?” Hatim instantly replied, “The fruit you allude to is their offspring, which are dear to all.”—“Tell me now,” said the lady, “my third and last question, what is it that no one desires, and yet every one obtains?”—“That,” replied Hatim, “is death, which is destined for all men, though no one wishes it.”
When the three questions were thus solved, the lady remained silent for some time, when suddenly she was seized with convulsions so as to fall from her couch. At last a snake, black and frightful, issued from her nostrils and rushed towards Hatim. He seized his scimitar with the intention of cutting it to pieces, but considered that it would be cruelty, to which he was averse: he therefore took out the talisman given him by the bear’s daughter, and threw it at the venomous reptile. The snake became tame as a lamb, and suffered him to hold it in his hands and shut it up in a silver vessel, after which he dug a pit in the ground of the size of a man’s grave, and having buried it, he replaced the earth and secured it with bricks and clay.
In about a watch after, the lady being restored to her senses, observed Hatim, and throwing her veil over her countenance, she said to him, “Stranger, who are you; and how came you to sit here?” He answered, “Have you then forgotten me? I am the traveller whom your people yesterday seized and conducted into your presence.” The governor’s daughter called her nurse, and asked her, “My dear mother, tell me how comes this youth to be here and alive this morning?” The nurse replied, “My child, God is merciful, and took this stranger under his protection; but tell me what is your state?”—“To-day,” she replied, “I feel quite relieved and in perfect health.” The nurse then, addressing Hatim, said, “Most learned of men, can you account to me for this change? Tell me what has occurred in your presence.”—“That,” replied Hatim, “I shall communicate to-morrow to her father.”
Next morning the governor summoned Hatim, and asked him, “Tell me, stranger, what has happened, and how are you alive?” Hatim detailed every circumstance as it occurred, saying, “Noble sir, about the end of the first watch your daughter was seized with a fit of raving madness, and began to utter the most incoherent language. At length her eyes happening to observe me, she said, ‘Rash stranger, how dare you enter my apartment? Your life is over unless you answer my questions.’ She then asked me three questions, one after another, all of which I satisfactorily answered. For some time after she remained silent, when all at once a black serpent issued from her nostrils, and rushed furiously towards me. I seized the reptile, and having shut it up in a silver vessel, I buried it in the court-yard; and since that moment your daughter has enjoyed sound health.”
When the governor heard this statement, he said, “Most noble youth, on you I bestow in marriage this my only child, which is no more than fulfilling the vow that I have made; I therefore hope you will accept her.”—“On one condition,” said Hatim, “will I receive her; that is, whenever I feel inclined to leave this place, I may either leave her here or take her with me and bestow her upon whomsoever I please.” To this the father agreed, and on that very day the marriage was celebrated according to the customs of the country, and the hours were spent in mirth and joy. Hatim remained there three months; after which period he took leave of his wife and departed. He at the same time left orders, saying, “Should my wife ever have a fine boy, and should the child prove himself to be of the tribe of Taï, tell him that his father’s country is in Arabia the happy; and thither let him come whenever he may form the desire of seeing me. If it be a daughter, let her be carefully brought up and married to a worthy man, and should my life be spared I shall yet visit you.”
Hatim kept awake the whole of that night in making preparations, and as soon as morning dawned, set out on his journey to the capital of China. In the course of a few days he arrived in that extensive city, and inquired for the quarter occupied by the linen merchants. The people shewed him the way thither, and when he reached the place he asked of the linen merchants, if they knew the residence of Yusuf the merchant, or whether any of his descendants still lived there. One of the linen merchants immediately went to the grandchildren of Yusuf, and said to them, “There is a stranger arrived from some far country, who is desirous to see you.” Yusuf’s grandsons instantly waited upon Hatim, who to their astonishment thus addressed them: “My friends, I have been commissioned to visit you by your grandfather, from whom I have a message for you.” When the grandchildren of Yusuf and the people of the bazar heard this extraordinary declaration, they laughed most heartily, and said to him in reply, “Truly, young stranger, you are quite crazy. It is a long period since Yusuf died; how then could he have sent you thither with a message?”—“How,” said Hatim, “could I have known that you reside in the linen bazar, and various other circumstances connected with you, had I not received my information from your grandfather? I have further tokens from which I shall prove my veracity if you will hear me; but the question now is, are you willing to listen to me or not?”
The people requested Hatim to proceed with his message, which he thus did: “In a certain apartment, near the bed where Yusuf was wont to sleep, there are buried treasures and jewels, of which none but myself has any information; these you shall bring to light, and divide into four equal portions, of which you shall keep one-fourth, and bestow the other three-fourths in the way which is acceptable to God the Most High, in relieving the wants of the poor and the distressed.” He then detailed to them minutely his late adventure, and having mentioned all that he had witnessed respecting their grandfather, he concluded, saying, “If Yusuf himself had not sent me, how could I have known so much about your house?”
The people said to him, “We cannot proceed further in this affair without applying to our king.” The relatives of Yusuf, therefore, conducted Hatim before the august monarch of China, and being admitted into the royal presence, they represented: “Sire, this youthful stranger asserts that he has seen our grandfather Yusuf, the merchant, by whom he has been commissioned hither with a message for us.” The king on hearing their statement could not refrain from laughter: at last he said to them, “The young man is mad; why, it is nearly one hundred years since old Yusuf, the merchant, died; how then could this stripling have ever seen him? Foolish youth,” continued the king, addressing Hatim, “has it ever been known that the dead held any communication with the living? But you are crazy, and all that I have to say to you is, quit my capital as soon as possible.”
Hatim firmly but respectfully replied, “Most upright king, this is one of the secret dispensations of the Almighty, and is beyond the comprehension of mortals. We believe that martyrs inherit life everlasting; Yusuf, however, when in this world was a miser, for which sin he is now in a state of torment; and should your Highness be pleased to listen seriously to my statement, it will be the means of procuring him salvation. If I be mad, how do I come to possess my information respecting the treasure concealed in Yusuf’s sleeping apartment which I have never seen?” When his Majesty of China heard this reply from Hatim, he desired the latter to state who he was, and how he had become concerned in this strange affair. Hatim related the cause of his journey to the tombs of the martyrs, and what he had there seen, and the state of suffering to which Yusuf was doomed. “I asked him,” said Hatim, “the cause of his misery, which he told me in detailing the particulars of his past life, and also the way in which he is likely to obtain relief. For this reason, Sire, I have journeyed to your capital, and if you believe not my statement, at least let the apartment in which the treasure is hidden be searched: if the gold and jewels be found as I have described them, it will be a proof of my sincerity; but if not, let me be doomed to the severest punishment.”
The king, after some reflection, resolved to search in person the apartment of Yusuf, to which he immediately proceeded, accompanied by Hatim. In the very spot which the latter pointed out, the gold and jewels were found, to the great astonishment of the king. The treasure was divided into four equal portions, one of which was made over to the grandchildren of Yusuf, and the remainder was given in charge to Hatim. “You,” said the king, “seem to be a man of integrity; accept this wealth then, and with your own hand distribute it in charity, after such manner as you deem proper.” Hatim for several days was occupied in his favorite task of relieving the wants of the destitute,—in administering food to the hungry, and in clothing those who were naked.
Having accomplished the object of his journey to the capital of China, Hatim began to make preparations for his return; he had the satisfaction of seeing the grandchildren of Yusuf now raised to a state of affluence and engaged in commerce. He took leave of the monarch, and returning by the way he came, he arrived in the city of Adālatabad, where he was affectionately received by his wife, who was at that time the mother of a boy. Hatim and his friends were extremely delighted on this occasion, and called the son Salim. Shortly after Hatim proceeded on his journey until he came to the desert in which were the tombs of the martyrs; amidst these receptacles of the dead he remained three days waiting the arrival of the eve of Jumat. At the appointed hour all the martyrs, as formerly, rose into life. Among them was Yusuf the merchant, but in a state different from his former condition. At midnight the tables, with food, were placed before them, of which Yusuf now partook. At the same time there appeared a table unoccupied, which was intended for Hatim, who at their request approached, and after the usual salutations, asked Yusuf how he fared.
The merchant replied: “Noble youth, by your humane exertion my condition has been improved, and I am now delivered from my torment; my food and drink are the same as that of the rest, but the thrones on which they sit are more splendid, and the apparel in which they are arrayed is more elegant than mine; on them too are bestowed perfumes, and substances of sweet fragrance, of which my portion is but small; but, alas, their desert is far greater than mine, for when they were in the fetters of human life their hands were ever active in charitable deeds. I, however, after severe penance, have been released from my state of misery; now I am happy and possessed of salvation. You are the means whereby the Almighty has accomplished this end, and on you he will bestow the reward of the righteous.”
Hatim spent the remainder of the night there as formerly, and when the morning dawned he departed. After traversing for several days the mountains and deserts, he came to a spot where he beheld a decrepit old woman sitting by the wayside. When the old woman observed him, she made a piteous appeal to his charity; and Hatim having pulled off a diamond ring from his finger, gave it to her and walked onwards. The old woman then cried out, “May heaven send one or two to aid me”; and in an instant seven young fellows rushed from the desert. Now these seven men were the sons of the old woman, and were notorious robbers in those quarters. The mother shewed them the diamond ring, and assured them that the traveller who gave it must be a man of wealth. The robbers overtook Hatim, and walked peaceably along with him for some space, conversing on various subjects. At last they said to him, “Noble Sir, we are here out of employment, and if you will permit us, it is our wish to accompany you to some city where we may earn our livelihood by service.”
To this request Hatim readily assented; and when the robbers found that he was duped by their false assertions, one of them came behind him, and casting a net over his head, they all seized him and conveyed him to the mouth of a pit which was close by. They stripped him of his clothing, and took possession of all the money and jewels that he had with him; after which they wounded him in several parts of his body with their daggers, and threw him into the pit. For a long time Hatim lay senseless; but as soon as his recollection was restored he searched for his talisman, which the robbers had fortunately left with his turban. The instant he brought it out the pit became quite dry; he then applied it to his wounds, which were speedily healed.
Hatim thus restored to perfect health could not, mild as he was, avoid making the following reflections: “What a trick those cowardly villains have played me! Well, if we should meet again I may give them something which will set their avarice forever at rest.” Occupied with these thoughts he fell into a profound sleep, and in a dream he beheld an aged man, who thus accosted him: “O, Hatim, let not thy heart be cast down. Thinkest thou that Divine Providence has sent thee hither without some wise and unerring design? Listen, and I will tell thee the cause of thy falling into this apparent calamity. In this pit the Creator, bountiful and gracious, hath kept hidden a treasure that is destined for thee. Arise and take possession of it; for thou art capable of employing it in that way which is most acceptable to the bountiful Giver. Let sadness no longer dwell in thy heart; he who is discontent is unfit for the service of God.”
To this mysterious man Hatim replied, “In every state that may befall me, I am always satisfied with the decrees of Providence; and though these may exceed my comprehension, I submit with resignation. Should the sacrifice of my life tend to promote the service of God, I am ready to yield it.”—“I am convinced,” continued the old man, “that thy words are sincere; meanwhile take away this treasure, which is thine.”—“I am alone,” said Hatim; “I cannot even liberate myself from this dungeon; of what use is it then to offer me so vast a treasure?”—“To-morrow,” replied the man, “two persons will pass this way who will set you at liberty; and by their aid you can bring out the treasure and carry it away.”—“It will be impossible for two persons,” said Hatim, “to release me from this prison; and as for the treasure, it is out of the question.”—“The two persons to whom I allude,” replied the man, “are able to accomplish both the one and the other”; and having thus spoken, he vanished, leaving Hatim to the enjoyment of a pleasant dream.
As soon as the morning rays dawned, the two persons arrived at the mouth of the pit, and called out, “Ah! Hatim, are you still alive?” To this he replied, “He who at first created me, hath preserved me.” The two strange beings that addressed him thrust each of them a hand into the pit, which was of immense depth, and to Hatim’s astonishment, their hands reached the bottom where he lay. They called aloud to him to hold fast by their hands, which he did, and in an instant he was set at liberty. Hatim thanked his deliverers, and said to them, “In this pit there are vast treasures of gold and jewels; if you can bring them to light, I will distribute the same in the service of God by relieving the wants of the poor and needy.” On hearing this, one of them threw himself into the pit, and handed up the treasure to the other, who remained outside. In the course of an hour all the hidden stores of the pit were brought up and packed together so as to be easily carried; after which the two took leave of Hatim and departed.
Hatim for some time viewed his treasure, and thus communed with himself: “How can I best dispose of this wealth? If the villains that lately maltreated me were here I should bestow it upon them, that they might for once be satisfied and cease from oppressing their fellow-creatures.” He then selected from the stores a suit of apparel, in which he dressed himself; and having filled a large bag with the most valuable jewels, he departed in quest of the old woman and her seven sons. He had not far advanced when he espied the object of his search, sitting, as formerly by the wayside. On seeing her Hatim was extremely glad, and walking up to her, he put his hand into his bundle and pulled out a handful of the finest jewels, which he scattered around her. The old woman, as formerly, gave the signal to her sons by exclaiming, “May heaven send one or two to aid me”; and forthwith the seven robbers presented themselves, and surrounding Hatim, asked him whither he was journeying. Hatim addressed them thus: “My good friends, I have one request to beg of you, which I hope you will allow me.”
The thieves desired him to speak, whereupon he thus continued: “You hunger and thirst for gold and worldly wealth; abandon your present iniquitous way of life, and withdraw your hands from oppressing your neighbors, and I will enrich you with gold and jewels to such a degree as will satisfy your utmost wishes.” To this exhortation the thieves replied, “Hunger and want have driven us to this avocation; and of course, if you give us all this wealth, we shall speedily abandon a line of life which is hateful to God and oppressive to man.”—“Well,” said Hatim, “repent of your past deeds, and give me your solemn and sincere promise never to transgress in future, and I shall satisfy your wants.”—“But ere we can conscientiously give you this promise,” replied the thieves, “shew us that immense treasure which you are to bestow upon us.” Hatim opened his bag and displayed the treasures which he possessed; on seeing which the thieves unanimously requested him to impose upon them whatever terms he chose. “Swear to me,” said Hatim, “a solemn oath in the following words: ‘Before God the wise and supreme, who observeth and knoweth all things, we promise never to lay our hands on the property of our fellow-creatures, nor henceforth to injure any one; otherwise may the wrath of heaven be upon us, and may our past deeds, of which we sincerely repent, never be forgiven.’”
Hereupon the thieves bound themselves by oath to follow his dictates, and expressed their penitence for their past sins; after which Hatim, having thus reclaimed them from the path of error, divided his treasure among them and departed. Having traversed part of the desert, he espied a dog lolling out his tongue, and exhausted with hunger and thirst. He at once supposed that some caravan, to which the dog belonged, must be at no great distance. When he approached, the poor animal in the most piteous manner seemed to implore his aid. Hatim felt for the misery of every living creature; he therefore lifted the dog in his arms, and carried it with him, in order to restore it with food and drink as soon as he could procure any. He had not long proceeded when he beheld a village at some distance before him, and thither he bent his steps. On his arrival the people presented him with a barley loaf and some curdled milk, the whole of which he gave to the dog. The exhausted animal, thus satisfied with food and drink, fawned on Hatim, as if expressing its sense of his kindness, and then lay down at his feet.
Hatim began to stroke the animal with his hands, and was meditating on the power and wisdom of the Almighty, who created the countless myriads of creatures that fill the universe, each with some characteristic in form and color peculiar to itself, when his hand passing over the head of the dog, he felt some hard substance resembling a horn. He wondered in his own mind what this could mean, “for,” said he, “I never heard of dogs having horns.” He examined it further, and found that an iron nail had been driven into the head of the dog. He drew it out, and instantly the animal assumed the shape of a young man.
Hatim sat for some time in silent abstraction, wondering at the miraculous occurrence which he had just witnessed. At last he addressed the young man, saying, “Tell me, Sir, who are you, and how have you been transformed into the likeness of an irrational animal? From what mysterious cause have you now recovered your proper shape on my removing the nail from your head?” The young man, struck with Hatim’s humane and amiable disposition, and full of gratitude for the service he had just rendered him, bowed his head to the dust as he replied, “Benevolent Sir, suffice it to say that I am of the human race; that by the foulest practice, which I am loth to detail, I was transformed into that shape wherein you lately saw me; and from which, through the Divine favor and your humane attention, I am now delivered.”—“I should like to know,” said Hatim, “if agreeable to you, the cause of your having assumed the shape of a dog.”
The young man, thus requested, proceeded with his own history. “Worthy Sir, I am the son of a merchant. My father, not many years ago, made a journey to the capital of China with a large stock of goods of various kinds, which he there disposed of to great advantage: in return, he supplied himself with the most valuable commodities produced in that country, which on his arrival in Kheta he converted into gold, and thus became immensely rich. As I was his only son, he wished to have me settled in life, and induced me to marry a beautiful young lady. Shortly after my marriage he died, and I became possessed of the whole of his property, and for some time my life passed in perfect felicity. At last my wealth was considerably diminished; I therefore made up an investment at Kheta, and, like my father, made a journey to China, which, of course, forced me to leave my home and country for a considerable period. During my absence, my wife had proved herself on several occasions a wicked woman, and at the same time procured this iron nail from some magicians. At length I returned home, and as soon as sleep overpowered my eyelids, my wife thrust the enchanted nail into my head, and instantly I was transformed into the shape of a dog. She then kicked me out of the house, and when thus driven into the public streets, all the dogs of the city flew at me. Winged with terror, I fled into the desert; and there for three days I had wandered without a morsel of food or a drop of water, until the auspicious hour when God the Supreme sent you to my relief.”
When Hatim heard this wonderful narrative, he for some time held down his head in the lap of reflection, after which he addressed the young man, saying: “My dear friend, pray tell me where is your residence?”—“It is,” said he, “about three days’ journey from this place, in the city of Suri.”—“That city,” rejoined Hatim, “I know well, for there resides Harith the merchant, whose beautiful daughter is so celebrated on account of her three questions. I am just on my return to that city, having found out the solution of her second question, which runs thus: I have done nothing that can be of use to me this night.”—“You speak truly,” replied the young man, “as to Harith and his fair daughter. I know them well, being their fellow-citizen, and I rejoice in the prospect of your company thither.”
Hatim then advised the young man to preserve the magic nail with the utmost care, and as soon as he arrived at his house, to serve his wife as she had him.
* * * *
After the slave had been killed, all received from him presents, and Hatim was for that day detained as his guest, and the hours were spent in pleasure. Next morning Hatim took farewell of the young man, and returning to the caravanseraï, met with the lover of Harith’s daughter. He courteously addressed the youth, whose name was Naīm, and made many inquiries after his condition, to all of which the other replied; adding: “It is now several months since the voice was last heard in the wilderness, and from that circumstance Harith’s daughter is expecting your return crowned with success.”—“Rejoice, my friend,” said Hatim, “for I have really succeeded in procuring the most accurate information respecting the voice in the desert.”
Hatim then made straight for the gate of Harith, and announced his presence to the domestics; who forthwith informed their mistress that the Arabian prince had returned, and waited at her gates. She ordered them to admit him; and on Hatim’s entrance, she eagerly requested to know the result of his adventure, of which he gave her a detail from end to end. “You speak truly,” said the lady in return: “the voice has now ceased to be heard, and you have accomplished my second task: it only remains for you to procure me the Shahmuhra from Mahparí, the king of the fairies.”
Hatim took leave of Harith’s daughter, and returning to the caravanseraï, said to his young friend: “Now I depart in quest of the Shahmuhra.” The youth prostrated himself at Hatim’s feet, and gave vent to his gratitude. Hatim raised him up, and embracing him, said: “Rejoice, my friend, for as soon as I shall, by the aid of God, have accomplished this third task, I shall put you in possession of your beloved.” Hatim left the city of Suri, and placing his reliance upon Divine Providence, set out in quest of the Shahmuhra. After he had advanced a small distance, he sat down to rest under the shade of a tree, not knowing which way to proceed. At length his mind recurred to the cave that led to the world of demons, and he resolved to wait upon Farokash their king, and receive his direction to the abode of Mahparí, assured that the demons could furnish him with the requisite information. He therefore got up, and made for the mouth of the cave, which he entered as formerly, and in the course of a week he reached its further extremity, and issued into the desert by the route previously described. Shortly after the demons flocked around him from all quarters, and recognizing their former visitor, they conducted him to their homes, and vied with each other in their hospitality and attention.
Hatim thus advanced from town to town, till at length his majesty Farokash, hearing of his approach, came out to receive him, and with all honors conducted him to his palace, seated him upon a throne, and presented him with a variety of eatables the most delicious, and in short, testified in every way the pleasure he felt in the meeting. After some time, the king requested to know of Hatim the cause of his visit; to which the latter replied: “Sire, I am on my journey in quest of the Shahmuhra, which is in the possession of Mahparí; in this enterprise may I venture to solicit your aid?”—“Young man,” said Farokash, “you aim at things that are beyond the power of the human race. There is not one of my demon subjects that can enter the dominions of Mahparí and return alive; far less then is it practicable by you, a mere mortal.”—“Sire,” replied Hatim, “the Almighty Power, that has preserved me in your kingdom, will watch over me in the fairy world, and thence conduct me back in safety. In the meantime, may I request your Highness to furnish me with guides, who may shew me the way thither? Otherwise I should wander astray.”—“I wish,” said Farokash, “that you would abandon this absurd enterprise, so inconsistent with reason.”—“How can I,” replied Hatim, “without disgrace relinquish the task which I have undertaken? My word is pledged to accomplish it, and a promise is sacred.”
On hearing this reply Farokash remained silent, as he felt assured that compliance with Hatim’s request would be only hastening his ruin. Three days were spent in discharging the rights of hospitality, after which Hatim addressed the king, and said, “Sire, allow me to depart, for the occasion is urgent: let it not be said that the tormented lover has died in his protracted expectation of me; in such a case I should have become responsible for his death, and what would be my answer before the great Judge? The love-sick youth in whose cause I labor is sincere in heart, and ardent in his affection; his life depends on my successful exertions, and my failure would be the cause of his death.”
The king of the demons summoned a few of his subjects and gave them instructions to the following effect: “You shall conduct this young stranger to the boundaries of Mahparí’s dominions, and remain there until his return, if such be his fate.” The demons lifted Hatim on their shoulders, and with the speed of the wind began to traverse the wide-spreading desert. In the course of a month they arrived at the confines of fairy-land, where the demons halted, and addressing Hatim, said, “We are now in sight of the mountain Kaf, and here begin the territories of Mahparí, within which we dare not enter; for close upon the limits of that mountain are stationed thousands of fairies ready to destroy us.”
Hatim took leave of the demons, and fearlessly passed the bounds of the fairy regions, and from day to day approached nearer the mountain whose top seemed to pierce the skies and whose sides abounded with green trees in endless variety. When he arrived at the base of the mountain the fairies assembled from all sides, and said one to another: “Here comes one of Adam’s race whom we must instantly put to death, as he has the hardihood to approach this mountain.” The fairies hereupon rushed to the base of the mountain, and laying hold of Hatim, carried him up, and when they had bound his hands and feet with chains, they asked him, “Tell us, mortal, whence come you? what is your business? and who has conducted you hither?”—“I come,” said Hatim, “from the city of Suri, under the guidance of my Creator.”—“Pray,” said the fairies to him, “are you come at the request of the daughter of Harith, the merchant?” Hatim reflected in his own mind, “Now if I tell them the truth, and say that I am come in quest of the Shahmuhra, they will assuredly destroy me; and if I speak falsely it will be unworthy of me, having never done so in my life; in this case, then, silence is the best policy.”
Meanwhile the fairies came to the resolution of casting him into the fire, “For,” said they, “he is in all probability come for the Shahmuhra.” They quickly heaped together piles of dried wood, to which they set fire, and throwing Hatim into the midst of it, they all set up a loud shout of laughter, and there left him. Hatim, remembering his Maker, took into his mouth the talisman of the bear’s daughter, which rendered him completely proof against fire. For three days he remained in that state, after which period he came out without even a thread of his garment being burnt.
Hatim had no sooner made his escape than he was again seized and bound by the fairies, who thus addressed him: “Three days since a man very like you fell into our hands, and we cast him into the fire, and burnt him; pray are you that individual, or some one else of the human race?”—“O, you troop of simpletons,” replied Hatim, “assuredly, such fools as you are never will exist; if, as you say, you burnt that individual, how do you imagine that he should be again alive? But the truth is, the Almighty has preserved me amidst the burning flames.” The fairies, on hearing this, again threw Hatim into the fire, from which, after a considerable time, he coolly walked out unhurt; a third time they repeated the experiment, and at length becoming convinced that he was not to be destroyed by burning, they carried him to the shore of the salt sea, and cast him into the midst of the deep, and there, leaving him to his fate, they departed.
Whilst Hatim was cutting his way by swimming amidst the billows of the ocean, a large nihang (sea-serpent) happened to espy him. This monster rushed upon him, and in an instant swallowed him alive. Hatim, thus rescued from drowning, on coming to his senses attempted to stand up and move about, whereby the sea-serpent became so desperately annoyed that he darted towards the shore, and with great exertion succeeded in disgorging him on dry land, after which he plunged into the deep.
Hatim in that spot lay, helpless and exhausted with hunger and thirst, for the space of two days and nights, after which time he rose up, and wandered he knew not whither, until he found himself in the midst of a wilderness of sand. Here he continued to stray till a troop of fairies happened to observe him; these immediately surrounded him, and said, one to another, “Here is a mortal man, how can he have come hither?” Addressing Hatim, they said to him, “You seem to be of the human race, pray who brought you into our territory?”—“The merciful Creator,” replied Hatim, “first conducted me into your dominions, but since my arrival I have been cast into the sea, and swallowed by a monstrous nihang, from whose inside I was ejected two days ago. I am now exhausted with hunger; if you have any compassion within you, let me have something to eat, and water to quench my thirst.”
To this reply the fairies rejoined, “We dare not administer to you even a drop of water, for our king has strictly ordered us to slay every one of the race of men or demons that may come in our way; if we, therefore, delay a moment in putting you to death, the wrath of his Majesty will overtake us.” Here one of the fairies said to his companions, “Where is our king, and where are we?[9] This wretched being is not come hither of his own accord! God is merciful! You know not from what distance he may have been brought by the nihang, and his being found here is accidental, as it was natural he should make an effort to preserve his life. He is one of the human race too, and our superior, nay, the noblest of the sublunary creation; let us convey him to our abodes, and afford him kind treatment.”—“But,” said the rest of the fairies, “if we spare him, and our king hear of it, his Majesty will put us to death.” On hearing this discussion Hatim addressed them, saying, “My friends, if it is your duty and interest to slay me, I am quite resigned without further dispute.”
That fairy, however, who spoke in his favor still held out, saying, “My worthy companions, our king is far distant, even seven days’ journey hence; and who among us is likely to turn informer?” In short, they all at last agreed to spare Hatim’s life; whereupon they carried him to their dwellings, and gave him food to eat, and fruits and water to quench his thirst, so that in a short time he perfectly recovered. The fairies, charmed with Hatim’s gracefulness and eloquence, crowded around him, and felt the greatest pleasure in listening to his conversation; they daily supplied him with food the most delicious, and fruits the most refreshing, and spent their whole time in his society. In a few days Hatim became a universal favorite, so that he ventured to ask their leave to depart, in order to accomplish his enterprise. “Pray tell us,” said they, “what is your business here, and what brought you into our world?” Hatim told them without reserve: “The demon subjects of Farokash conducted me as far as your boundaries, beyond which they durst not penetrate. As soon as I entered your dominions, the fairies that guard your coasts laid hold of me, and three times did they cast me into the burning flames, but from all their evil designs the hand of the Creator protected me; they afterwards threw me into the sea, from which I escaped as I have already told you.”—“And pray,” asked they, “what business have you so important, that you undergo such toils and perils for its accomplishment?”—“My business,” replied Hatim, “is with Mahparí.”—“Beware, frail man,” said the fairies, “how you speak of Mahparí; we are his subjects, and he has enjoined us not to suffer a man or demon to enter his dominions; should he hear of our affording you an asylum, he would instantly slay us all.”
In answer Hatim said: “If it is our destiny to enjoy longer life, no one can slay us; and if you are afraid of the consequence, you can bind me hand and foot, and carry me as a captive into the presence of your king.”—“What you propose,” rejoined they, “is utterly absurd; you have already shared of our hospitality; you and we have eaten salt together[10]; do you imagine, then, that we can deliver you up to certain destruction?”—“Be under no hesitation,” replied Hatim, “on account of any danger that threatens me, for it is my resolution to have an audience of Mahparí as soon as possible; therefore convey me thither at all risks.” The fairies were sadly perplexed on hearing Hatim’s mad design, and deliberated amongst themselves what was best to be done in the case. At length they resolved to detain him as prisoner, and in the meantime despatch a messenger to learn the king’s pleasure regarding him, and act accordingly. One of the fairies was immediately sent to his Majesty, with instructions thus to address him: “Sire, we have just seized on the sea-shore one of the human race, who is now our captive; if such be your royal pleasure, we are ready to conduct him into your august presence.”
The messenger departed, and in the course of seven days arrived at the fairy court, and having received an audience, thus delivered his message: “Sire, your subjects, who guard the shores of the sea of Kulzum[11], have there taken captive one of the human race, and I have been despatched hither to know your pleasure respecting him.” Mahparí ordered the man to be carefully conveyed to his presence, in order that he might himself examine him with regard to his journey to fairy-land. The messenger immediately returned, and after an absence of two weeks arrived at his own residence, and stated that it was his Majesty’s pleasure to have Hatim brought into his presence. On hearing this, the fairies without delay made preparations for conveying their prisoner to court. Meanwhile the report was rapidly spread through the country, that one of the human race was being brought to the capital. One of his Majesty’s grandees, by name Masnapari, had a beautiful daughter called Husnapari, whose heart was restless and full of curiosity. This fairy damsel said to her companions: “I hear that a man has somehow entered our king’s dominions, and is now on his way to the capital; I wish it were possible for me to see what he is like: they tell me that mankind are beautiful in countenance and graceful in form.” The attendants of Husnapari expressed their readiness to aid her in gratifying her wish; and at the same time observed to her, “Fair lady, you must take your station by the wayside as this man passes, for after he is brought before the king it will be impossible to see him.”—“But,” said Husnapari, “how can I leave my father’s house? on what pretence shall I get out?” After consideration, her youthful companions suggested that she should ask leave of her parents to be allowed to walk in the gardens for some days. Husnapari, delighted with this stratagem, went to her mother, and said, “My dear mother, give me your permission to go out and enjoy for some days the fragrance of the fields and the delights of the garden.”—“Obtain your father’s permission, my child,” replied the mother, “and I am satisfied.”
In short, Husnapari received her father’s leave, and attended by her fair and youthful companions, went to the garden, where she was allowed to remain for forty days. On her way thither, she further consulted her friends as to the speediest means of seeing Hatim, the main object of her journey. They told her that those who guarded the sea of Kulzum were conducting the man from that quarter. On hearing this, Husnapari and her companions, instead of proceeding to the garden, swiftly transported themselves to the shores of Kulzum, where they arrived in the space of three days, just at the moment when the fairies were about to depart with Hatim.
Husnapari, observing the numerous assemblage on the sea-shore, halted with her train at some distance, and sent one of her attendants to inquire who they were. The messenger soon returned, and informed her that these were the guardians of the shores of Kulzum, and that they were about to convey the man to the king’s presence. “I myself,” continued the messenger, “saw this flower of Adam’s race, as he sat on the sea-shore; his face was beautiful, and his hair waved in graceful ringlets. His form was elegant as the moon in her fourteenth night.”
When Husnapari heard this description of Hatim’s beauty and perfection, her desire to see him was greatly increased. She said to her fairy train: “Alas! when am I to behold with my own eyes this lovely being?”—“Let us watch them in the meantime from a distance,” said her companions; “and when they shall have halted for the night, perhaps we shall be able to carry off the man when his guards fall asleep.” In short, the fairies of Kulzum set out with their prisoner, and in a few days approached the garden of Husnapari, within a furlong of which they halted for the night. When half the night had elapsed, a select few of Husnapari’s attendants, who were proficients in magic, approached the guards, and overpowering their eyelids with sleep, cast a charm over the eyes of Hatim so that he fell into a profound slumber, and then they carried him into the presence of their mistress.
The instant Husnapari beheld him, her heart was enamoured of his beauty. She lifted him in her arms, sleeping as he was, and carried him herself into her own garden. When Hatim awoke, and looked around him, he was surprised at finding himself surrounded by fairy damsels of surpassing beauty, in the midst of a garden green and fragrant as that of Iram. He addressed the fair assemblage, and said: “Tell me, who are you, and who has brought me hither?” The fairest of the troop replied, “This is the garden of Masnapari, a fairy of exalted rank, and I am his daughter. My name is Husnapari. When the news of your arrival in our dominions became divulged, my ardent desire to behold your form overcame my prudence; for which reason my attendants brought you hither when asleep.” Hatim rejoined: “Now that you have gained your wish, may I request that you will aid me in the accomplishing of my enterprise?”—“How can I serve you?” replied the beautiful fairy. “The object of my coming into your country,” said Hatim, “is to get possession of the Shahmuhra.”—“Your journey is to little purpose,” replied Husnapari, “for no living creature can get the Shahmuhra from the hands of the fairy king; stay with me, then, for my heart has been yours since the moment I first saw you.”—“I will comply with your request,” said Hatim, “if you procure for me the Shahmuhra.”—“I repeat to you,” rejoined the fairy, “that I cannot—no creature can, by force or stratagem, get possession of the Shahmuhra. But I know that you are destined to acquire this treasure, so you may rest satisfied.” In fine, Husnapari detained Hatim in her garden, where both of them experienced uninterrupted happiness.
When the guards awoke from their slumbers, and found no trace of Hatim, they began to search for him in all directions, but to no purpose. They then held a consultation on what was best to be done. Most of them believed that Hatim had made his escape, and could not as yet be far off, while others suggested that probably some youthful fairy, enamoured of his beauty, had stolen him during the night. “But what shall we do?” said they to one another; “if the king should hear of this affair, he will flay us alive.” They resolved to keep the affair in secrecy, and in the meantime to make the strictest search. If the man should be found, they were to conduct him before the king as if nothing had happened; and if not, they considered it safest to absent themselves.
After a considerable period had thus elapsed, Mahparí becoming impatient, said to his courtiers, “Can you tell me the reason why this man has not yet made his appearance? I must make further inquiries concerning him.” His Majesty immediately despatched to the guardians of the shores of Kulzum a messenger, who received as an answer from them, “It is now a considerable time since we sent our prisoner to the capital, escorted by a guard of soldiers; of these we have heard nothing since, nor can we conjecture what is the cause of their delay.” The messenger conveyed this information to the king, who being exceedingly wroth, ordered his troops to scour the country in search of the delinquents, and find out what they had done with the man.
Agreeably to his commands, emissaries were sent in all directions, and not long after one of Hatim’s escort was seized and carried to the capital. Mahparí threatened him with the severest punishment, unless he told truly what had become of the man whom they had in charge. The fairy guard with trembling voice replied, “Spare my life, O king, and I will tell truly all that I know respecting the man.”—“Speak the truth, then,” said the king, “otherwise you shall die.” The guard proceeded: “Sire, we received the man in charge, and for several days journeyed with him towards the foot of your throne. It happened, as we halted for the night in a certain spot near a garden, that we were all overpowered with sleep, and when we awoke the man was nowhere to be seen. It is certain that some one must have stolen him from us, for he would not have gone of his own accord, as he frequently expressed his most ardent desire to have an interview with your Majesty. It is most likely, then, that some of the fairy damsels on seeing him, became enamoured of his person, for verily he is of rare beauty and gracefulness, and contrived to carry him off while we were asleep. Next morning, when we awoke and missed our charge, we fled in all directions, from fear of your Majesty’s wrath; and this is the whole truth.”
On hearing this statement, Mahparí ordered the culprit’s life to be spared, and contented himself by detaining him prisoner, until such time as the man should be found. Meanwhile he sent forth his servants, with orders to search every corner within fairy-land until they discovered Hatim. It happened about three months after, that one of the escort from Kulzum entered unobserved the garden of Masnapari, and having concealed himself in a corner, saw the beautiful fairy and Hatim walking hand in hand amidst the flowers. He instantly recognized the object of his search, and leaving his hiding-place, he boldly presented himself amidst the fairy troop, saying, “Most foolish damsels, you are aware that the king has ordered this man to be brought into his presence, whither we were conducting him; and yet you had the boldness to carry him off by stratagem. If you value your lives, surrender him into my charge, otherwise death and degradation await you.”
On hearing this address, Husnapari, instigated by fear and resentment, said to her attendants, “How durst you, without my permission, admit a stranger into the garden? Seize the villain, let him be severely punished, and for the remainder of his life confined in fetters.” The spy with the utmost activity bounded off as they were about to lay hold of him, and fled beyond their reach. With all speed he made for the capital, and on his arrival blackened his face, and taking his station at the palace gate, stated that he had a complaint to lay before the king. His Majesty was pleased to admit him, and inquired, “Why hast thou blackened thy face? Tell me who has injured thee?”—“Sire,” replied the spy, “my complaint is against the beautiful daughter of Masnapari. I am one of those who formed the escort of the Arabian prince from Kulzum, and while we were conducting our charge hither agreeably to your Majesty’s order, this damsel, whose name is Husnapari, contrived to steal him from us by night, and since then she has detained him in her father’s garden. I happened to discover the circumstance, and demanded of her the man as my prisoner. Enraged, she threatened me with severe punishment and confinement for life. I fortunately made my escape, and hastened to lay my information before your Majesty.”
When the sovereign of the fairy realms heard this intelligence his anger was extreme. He instantly despatched his commander-in-chief, accompanied by thirty thousand troops, with orders to seize Masnapari, and make him responsible for his daughter’s conduct. When Masnapari beheld this formidable array drawn up around his mansion, he was perplexed, and addressing the commander, said, “For what purpose are these forces? In what respect have I incurred his Majesty’s displeasure?”—“Pray sir,” said the commander, “where is your daughter?”—“For some months past,” replied the other, “she has been enjoying the delights of our garden in the country.”—“Wretched being!” rejoined the commander, “I pity your case; be it known to you, that your daughter has privately conveyed into that garden the man whom the sentinels of Kulzum found upon their coast. This is the cause of the king’s resentment towards you.”
When the mother of Husnapari heard this statement, pale with fear she hastened to the garden, where she found her daughter seated on a bed of flowers and engaged in conversation with Hatim. The enraged mother struck Husnapari on the head, saying, “Abandoned one! you have caused the ruin of your family. The king’s troops have surrounded our dwelling in quest of this man, whom you have chosen for your lover.” Husnapari, surprised and terrified at these tidings, stood motionless, and her beautiful countenance assumed the hue of death. The mother immediately gave her daughter and Hatim in charge to the commander of the troops; and she herself, with the whole of her relations, was ordered to follow to the capital.
In the course of three days they arrived at the king’s palace, where the commander informed his Majesty that Masnapari was in attendance to plead his own cause, and that his daughter, and the prince of Yemen her lover, were now at hand to be disposed of as his Majesty might deem proper. Mahparí ordered, in the first place, that the father should be brought before him. Masnapari entered, and making a low obeisance, said, “Sire, I swear by your Majesty’s salt, which I have so often tasted, that I knew nothing of the transaction. I have come, however, obedient to your commands, accompanied by my family, and all of us are ready to undergo whatever be the decree of your Majesty.”—“Enough,” said the king, “you are innocent, and are accordingly forgiven; let us now examine the man who has caused this trouble.”
The attendants immediately introduced Hatim, and placed him before the king. When Mahparí beheld his noble form and fair countenance, all his resentment towards him vanished, and having seated Hatim beside him, he began to converse with him, and said, “You are a bold youth to enter our dominions; may I ask what is the cause of your journey hither?”—“Sire,” replied Hatim, “I had heard much of your Majesty, and of your heavenly realms, from Farokash the king of the demons, so that I felt an irresistible desire of visiting your country, and of tendering you my humble services, whatever might be the risk.”—“Who,” asked the king, “were your guides hither?”—“The subjects of Farokash,” said Hatim. “Know you,” continued the fairy king, “whether there be among the demons any learned and expert physician?”—“From what I have there observed,” replied Hatim, “I believe the subjects of Farokash have no skill in physic; but may I ask, what occasion has your Highness for a physician?”—“I shall tell you in good time,” said Mahparí, “for after all you may be able to serve me, as the human race are allowed to be the noblest and most skilful of the creation, and from their superior wisdom they are enabled to hold under their control the regions of the fairies and demons, as was the case with Solomon, on whom be peace.”—“Well,” said Hatim, “may I presume to ask, what would your Majesty with a physician?”
Mahparí, in a voice of sorrow, replied: “I have a son who is the admiration of the world, accomplished in every art and science that adorn the mind, matchless in the beauty and elegance of his form, and beside him I have no other child. He has been lately seized with a pain in his eyes, which constantly flow with water, so intense that he his now quite blind; nor does he experience a moment’s relief. If you can procure me a learned leech who may succeed in restoring him his sight, I shall ever remain grateful for your kindness.”—“May I ask,” said Hatim, “what reward will your Highness bestow on that physician who may be the means of curing the prince?”—“I will give him whatever he asks,” replied the king. “Agreed,” said Hatim; “I myself will undertake on these terms to restore the prince to perfect health.” The king then took Hatim by the hand, and solemnly swore to abide by his promise; and as it now waxed late, they agreed to retire to rest.
Hatim was ushered into a splendid apartment, while troops of fairies attended him to execute his commands. They presented him with every sort of food and a variety of delicious fruits, with cool water pure as crystal. When the morning dawned the fairy king conducted Hatim to the apartment of his son, who lay stretched upon the bed of restlessness. Hatim took out the talisman presented him by the bear’s daughter, and having dipped it in pure water, applied the liquid to the prince’s eyes. In the course of the day he obtained some relief, and the pain was greatly alleviated, but his sight was not yet in the least restored. Mahparí, with the anxiety of a parent, watched the progress of the cure, and addressing Hatim, said, “Most learned man, the eyes are indeed cured of the pain which they suffered; but alas! the vision I fear is forever lost.” After a little reflection, Hatim said, “Sire, there is a tree that grows amidst the shades of Zulmât[12], which is called the naudar: from this tree distils a liquid of rare qualities, of which if even a single drop could be procured, it would be the means of restoring the prince’s sight.” When Mahparí heard this, he addressed his fairy subjects, saying: “Is there one among you who has the courage to enter the regions of Zulmât, and bring me a vial full of the juice of the naudar?” The fairies with downcast looks listened to this proposal, and replied, “The vales of Zulmât abound with demons the very scent of whom we cannot endure; and besides, being our enemies, they would not leave one of us alive were we to venture thither.” The king, well aware of this fact, held down his head in grief, when Husnapari respectfully approached him, and said, “If my lord the king will forgive my past transgressions, and again restore to me the prince of Yemen, I will endeavor to find out the tree in question.”
Mahparí, delighted, said to her in return, “Fair lady, I heartily forgive your pranks; nay, on receiving an explanation from your father, I extended my full pardon to you all; but so far as regards the prince of Yemen, I have no control over him; he is entirely at his own disposal.” Hatim then addressed the beautiful fairy, saying, “Noble lady, if it is your wish that I should dwell with you during the whole of my life, it is more than I can by any means promise you; but if you will be satisfied with my remaining in your society only during my own pleasure, and having full liberty to depart when I think proper, then I sincerely promise not to deceive you.” The beautiful fairy replied, in the accents of love, “Alas! I can lay no claim to your affections, but say you will stay with me for at least a few days. My time shall be wholly spent in the enjoyment of your society; and when I shall have sufficiently admired you, then your departure will be in your own choice.”—“Enough,” said Hatim, “for the present; lose no time in the accomplishment of your dangerous enterprise.”
Husnapari, accompanied with seven thousand fairy troops, immediately set out upon her journey; and so swiftly did she wing her course, that all her convoy were left far in the rear. In the space of forty days she entered the regions of darkness and arrived at the tree of naudar, the top of which seemed to pierce the skies. From its trunk flowed a liquid white as milk and sweet as honey. She caught the drops in her vial as they fell, and when it was filled she carefully sealed it up, and began to retrace her steps from the dreary abode. Meanwhile a host of demons, many thousand in number, who acted as guards of the tree of naudar, observed the beautiful fairy as she was returning, and immediately pursued her. Husnapari increased her speed, and fled swiftly as the bird that flies for its life. The demons followed fast for the space of four farasangs, when finding that they were losing ground, they returned to their haunts.
Forty days later the beautiful fairy arrived at the court of her sovereign, and presenting to his Majesty the vial containing the precious elixir, she detailed the events of her journey. The king was boundless in his gratitude, and exalted her into the rank of the most select in his household. Hatim dipped his talisman into the elixir, and applied a few drops of it to the eyes of the prince, which still continued shut. At the end of eight days he repeated the process, and a complete cure ensued. When the prince again beheld the faces of his father and mother, his joy was unbounded. Grateful, he prostrated himself at the feet of Hatim, who speedily raised him to his bosom, saying, “Let thy thanks be rendered unto God.”
In the meantime the fairy king offered for Hatim’s acceptance treasures to such an extent as would defy calculation. Hatim, after expressing his sense of the king’s bounty, said, “Sire, this vast wealth is useless to me unless your subjects conduct me to the dominions of Farokash, and convey the treasures thither.” To this Mahparí readily assented; whereupon Hatim rejoined: “Sire, I value not gold and jewels; all I wish from your Majesty is the fulfilment of the agreement which you were pleased to make with me, that I should receive from you whatever I asked.”—“State your wish,” replied Mahparí, “and you shall not be disappointed.”—“Give me then,” said Hatim, “the Shahmuhra which adorns your hand.”
The fairy king, on hearing this request, silently held down his head, and after some time said, “I see how it is; the daughter of Harith the merchant has sent you hither in quest of the Shahmuhra.”—“True, sire,” replied Hatim, “and I on my part have undertaken to procure it for her.”—“Well,” continued the king, “I will strictly abide by my promise, but the daughter of Harith shall never possess this treasure.” Hatim suggested that as soon as he had acquitted himself of his task, the Shahmuhra might possibly be returned. At this suggestion the king unfixed the Shahmuhra from his arm and fastened it on that of Hatim, who immediately perceived its rare qualities; for he had no sooner placed it on his arm than all the treasures of gold and precious stones concealed within the bosom of the earth were clearly displayed to his eyes; nor was he at any loss to discover the reason why Harith’s daughter so eagerly desired the possession of this key of wealth.
Mahparí summoned into his presence three of his most cunning magicians, and gave them instructions to this effect: “When this man shall have delivered the Shahmuhra to Harith’s daughter, and she in consequence accepts her lover in marriage, you shall transport yourselves thither, and after she has had it ten days in her possession, bring it back to me.” Hatim then took leave of the fairy king, and proceeded to the residence of Husnapari, with whom he spent three months in the enjoyment of every happiness. At length he bade adieu to the beautiful lady, and accompanied by the fairies, of whom some carried his treasures and others conveyed himself in a litter, he left the capital, and in a few days reached the territories of Farokash. When arrived at the line of separation between the two regions, the fairies left him, and the demons, who had previously been his guides, and had remained there during his absence in fairy-land, took him up and conveyed him with his treasures to their own capital. Hatim had an interview with Farokash, who received him with the utmost kindness and hospitality. Next day he continued his homeward journey, and, by his former route through the cave, in the course of time arrived safe in the city of Suri.
Hatim immediately on his arrival sought out the lover Naim, on whom he bestowed all the wealth which he had brought from fairy-land. The youth accepted the costly treasures with a profusion of thanks, after which, Hatim waited on Harith’s daughter and presented her with the Shahmuhra. The lady, on receiving this treasure, was filled with delight, and said to Hatim, “Now, peerless hero, I am yours.”—“Pardon me,” replied Hatim, “if I reject your offer; you know what anguish the youthful Naim has been suffering for years on your account; him therefore you shall accept as your husband.” The lady said, “I am entirely at your disposal.” The father and the lover were immediately sent for, and Hatim made them join hands as father and son. The marriage contract was drawn up and agreed to, the love-sick Naim was blessed in the possession of his mistress, and Hatim was pleased with what he had himself done. In the course of ten days, the Shahmuhra mysteriously disappeared from the lady’s hand, whereupon her grief and lamentation were excessive. Hatim earnestly endeavored to console her, saying, “Lady, you have in your possession such treasures of gold and jewels as will be amply sufficient for your posterity, even unto the seventh generation; why then should you not be content?”
Hatim shortly after took leave of his friends in Suri, and betook himself seriously to the attainment of the object of his journey, viz., the solution of Husn Banu’s second question. He travelled through many a stage without success, till at length he arrived on the banks of a large river. There he beheld a lofty mansion built of stone, over the door of which was written, “Do good and cast it into the river.” On seeing this motto, Hatim devoutly thanked the Ruler of events, and said, “I have now reached the object of my desire.” While he was in this contemplation a crowd of attendants issued forth, and conducted him into the house. There he beheld seated upon a throne a venerable man, whose age amounted to a hundred years. On Hatim’s entrance, the aged sire rose up and courteously received him; after which, he presented him with food and drink of various descriptions.
When Hatim had appeased his hunger and allayed his thirst, he said to his entertainer, “Venerable sir, pray what is the meaning of the motto which is written above your door?”—“Young stranger,” replied the aged man, “listen to my tale, which will explain it. In the prime of my life I was a daring robber, and lived by plundering my fellow-creatures. But every day, when I rested from my sinful avocation, I used to bake two large loaves, the ingredients of which I mixed with sweet-oil and sugar. Two such loaves I daily threw into the river, saying, ‘This I give away to propitiate the favor of heaven.’ A considerable period had thus passed, when one day I was seized with sickness so violent that my soul seemed to quit my body. Methought a man seized me by the hand, and pointing out to me the way to the infernal regions, said, ‘There is the place destined for thee.’ While he was on the point of hurling me into the midst of the condemned, two youths divinely fair in countenance and angelic in form came to my rescue. These were my guardian angels. They laid hold of me, one by each arm, and said, ‘We will not permit this man to be utterly destroyed in his wickedness; sinful as he has been, his future station is in paradise, and thither we will convey him.’
“They swiftly wafted me to the regions of the blessed, where an angel of exalted rank stood up and asked them, ‘Why have you brought this man? A hundred years of his life are yet to pass; but there is another of the same name whom you were commissioned to bring.’ The two angels who had carried me to the gates of paradise, again brought me back to my own house, and said to me at parting, ‘We are the two loaves[13] which you used to cast into the river for fishes to feed on, as a service acceptable to the Almighty.’ When I recovered from my trance, I rose up and fled for refuge into the threshold of divine mercy, exclaiming in the voice of supplication, ‘Gracious God! thou art merciful, and I am a sinful creature. I repent of all my evil deeds, which I committed in the depravity of my heart. To thy gates I flee for protection. Spare me, merciful Creator, and from thy secret stores of grace bestow upon me that which is meet for me.’
“When my health was restored, I prepared the two loaves as formerly, and went with them to the side of the river, in order to cast them upon the waters. On the shore I found a hundred dinars, which I took up and carried with me to the village. I there caused it to be publicly proclaimed, that if any person had lost a sum of money, he should obtain the same from me. None came forward to claim the money; I therefore laid it aside, in hopes that the real owner of it might some day appear. Next day, when I went to the river-side, according to my usual mode, I threw my two loaves into the water; and another sum of a hundred dinars made its appearance on the shore. I took the money home with me. In the same way it happened to me for ten successive days. On the eve of the eleventh day, as I was asleep, a man appeared to me in the visions of the night, saying, ‘Servant of the Almighty, thy two loaves have pleaded thy cause in heaven, and the merciful Creator has forgiven thy sins. The dinars which thou receivest are for thy competency; what is not necessary for thine own support, bestow in charity upon the poor.’
“I awoke from my dream and betook myself to prayer, and rendered my thanks to the bountiful Giver. I have since built this mansion, on the door of which I have written the motto that has attracted your attention. Every day I receive the sum of a hundred dinars on the shore of the river; and I occupy myself in giving it away in charity, in feeding the hungry, the poor, and the helpless stranger. Nearly a hundred years of my life still remain, and this, young stranger, is my history.”
When Hatim heard this wonderful account of the aged man, he devoutly expressed his sense of the divine mercy. After having stayed a few days, he took leave of his venerable entertainer, and began to retrace his way to Shahabad. Having travelled a considerable distance he came to a desert, where he beheld underneath a tree two serpents in deadly contest: the one was black and loathsome, the other beautiful and graceful to view: but the black snake had the advantage in the struggle, and was on the point of killing the other. Hatim speedily approached, and raised a shout that terrified the black serpent, which let go its victim and fled. The serpent of beautiful color being quite powerless, remained beneath the tree, looking gratefully at Hatim. The latter observing this, addressed the white snake, saying, “Fear nothing from me, I will here watch over you till you are recovered.” In the course of a few hours the serpent began to move slowly round the tree, which being done it assumed the form of a beautiful young man.
Hatim stood wrapt in astonishment, when the youth addressing him, said, “My good friend, I am of the race of the genii, and the son of their king. The black snake which you saw is my father’s slave who bears deadly hatred towards me. To-day he happened to find the time fitting, and having transformed himself and me into serpents, he was about to slay me, when God the Supreme sent you to my relief.” On hearing this Hatim rejoined, “As you are now recovered, proceed to your abode without delay: as for me I have affairs of moment.” The genius replied, “My residence is not far hence; if you will deign to honor me with a visit, nothing could be more agreeable to me.” In short, the prince of the genii conducted Hatim to his troops, and under their convoy proceeded to his palace. There he rested for the night, reclined upon a throne, and was charmed with the most melodious music. Next day he was offered the richest treasures of gold and jewels, which he rejected, saying that such things had no value in his sight. As he was about to depart from this hospitable mansion, the genii caught the base slave who had attempted to kill the prince; and having dragged him to the place of execution, they put him to death in Hatim’s presence.
Hatim took his leave of the genii, and continued his journey till he arrived in Shahabad. He went straight to the caravanseraï, where he was joyfully received by Munir, the Syrian prince. Husn Banu’s people in the meantime conveyed to their mistress the news of Hatim’s arrival. She next day sent for him, and said, “Brave youth, this time you have been long absent; pray have you attained the object of your journey or not?”—“Praised be God,” said Hatim, “I have been quite successful.” He then detailed to Husn Banu all that he had witnessed since his departure, and particularly the history of the aged man on the banks of the river. When Husn Banu heard this wonderful adventure, she looked towards her nurse, who said, “The youth speaks truly: your second question is solved.”
Food and drink were then called for, of which Hatim and the prince of Syria partook; the former assuring the latter that through divine aid he would accomplish the solution of the remaining questions. Three days were spent in discharging the rites of hospitality, at the expiration of which Hatim waited upon Husn Banu, saying, “Now, fair lady, let me hear your third question, that I may endeavor to solve it.”—“There is a man,” replied Husn Banu, “who says from experience, ‘Injure no one; if you do, evil will befall you.’ Find out where that man lives, what injury he has done, and what evil has befallen him.”