OF THE BARBER’S SIXTH BROTHER.
The history of my sixth brother is the only one that now remains to be told; and he was called Schacabac, the hare-lipped. He was at first sufficiently industrious to employ the hundred drachms of silver, which came to his share, in common with me and his other brothers, in a very advantageous manner; but, at length, by reverse of fortune, he was reduced to the necessity of begging his bread. In this occupation he acquitted himself with great address; and his chief aim was to procure admission, by bribing the officers and domestics into the houses of the great, and by having access to their persons, to excite their compassion.
He one day passed by a very magnificent building, through the door of which he observed a spacious court, where he saw a vast number of servants. He went up to one of them, and inquired of them, to whom the house belonged. “My good man,” answered the domestic, “where can you come from to ask such a question? Any one you met would tell you it belonged to a Barmecide.” [10] My brother, to whom the liberal and generous dispositions of the Barmecides were well known, addressed himself to the porters, for there were more than one, and requested to afford him some charity. “Come in,” answered they, “no one prevents you, and speak to our master, he will send you back well satisfied.”
My brother did not expect so much kindness; and after returning many thanks to the porters, he, with their permission, entered the palace, which was so large, that it took him some time to find the apartment belonging to the Barmecide. He at length came to a large square building, in a very beautiful style of architecture, into which he entered by a vestibule that led to a fine garden, the walks of which were formed of stones of different colours, very pleasant to the eye. The apartments which surrounded this building on the ground floor, were almost all open, and shaded only by some large curtains, in order to keep off the sun, and which they drew aside to admit the fresh air when the heat began to subside.
My brother would have been most highly delighted in so pleasant a spot had his mind been sufficiently at ease to have enjoyed it. He advanced still further, and entered a hall which was very richly furnished, and ornamented with foliage, painted in azure and gold. He perceived a venerable old man, whose beard was long and white, sitting on a sofa, and in the most distinguished place. Hence he judged it was the master of the house. In fact, it was the Barmecide himself, who told him, in an obliging manner, that he was welcome, and asked him what he wished. “My lord,” answered my brother, in a lamentable tone, in order to excite his pity, “I am a poor man who stands very much in need of the assistance of such powerful and generous persons as you.” He could not have done better than address himself to the person he did, for he was possessed of a thousand amiable qualities.
The Barmecide was much astonished at my brother’s answer; and putting both his hands to his breast, as if to tear his habit, as a mark of commiseration; “is it possible,” he cried, “that I should live at Bagdad, and that such a man as you should be so much distressed as you say you are? I cannot suffer this.” At this exclamation, my brother thinking he was going to give him a singular proof of his liberality, wished him every blessing. “It shall never be said,” replied the Barmecide, “that I abandon you; nor do I intend that you shall again leave me.”—“Sir,” replied my brother, “I swear to you that I have not even eaten any thing this day.”—“What,” cried the Barmecide, “is it true, that at this late hour you have not yet broken your fast? Alas, poor man, he will die with hunger! Here, boy,” added he, raising his voice, “bring us, instantly, a bason of water, that we may wash our hands.”
Although no boy made his appearance, and my brother observed neither bason nor water, the Barmecide nevertheless began to rub his hands, as if some one held the water for him, and while he was doing this, he said to my brother, “come close, and wash along with me.” Schacabac by this supposed, that the Barmecide was fond of fun, and as he himself liked a little raillery, and was not ignorant of the submission the rich expected from the poor, he approached him and did the same.
“Come,” said the Barmecide, “now bring us something to eat, and mind you do not keep us waiting.” He had no sooner said this, than he began, although nothing had been brought to eat, as if he had taken something in his plate, and pretended to put it to his mouth and chew it, calling out at the same time to my brother, “Eat, I entreat you, my guest; make yourself quite at home. Eat, I beg of you: you seem, for a hungry man, to have but a very poor appetite.”—“Pardon me, my lord,” replied Schacabac, imitating his motions at the same time very accurately, “You see I lose no time, and understand my business very well.”—“What think you of this bread?” said the Barmecide, “don’t you find it excellent?”—“In truth, my lord,” answered my brother, who in fact saw neither bread nor meat, “I never eat any thing more white or delicate.”—“Eat your fill then,” rejoined the Barmecide, “the slave who made this excellent bread cost me, I assure you, five hundred pieces of gold.” Then continuing to praise the female slave who was his baker, and boasting of his bread, which my brother only devoured in idea, he said, “Boy, bring us another dish. Come, my friend,” he continued to my brother, though no other boy appeared, “taste this fresh dish, and tell me if you have ever eaten any boiled mutton and barley better dressed than this.”—“Oh, it is admirable,” answered my brother, “I therefore, you see, help myself very plentifully.”—“It affords me great pleasure,” added the Barmecide, “to see you; and I entreat you not to suffer any of these dishes to be taken away, since you find them so much to your taste.” He presently called for a goose with sweet sauce, and dressed with vinegar, honey, dried raisins, grey peas, and dried figs; this was brought in the same manner as the mutton had been. “This goose is nice and fat,” said the Barmecide; “here, take only a wing and a thigh, for you must nurse your appetite, as there are many more things yet to come.” In short, he called for many other dishes of different kinds, of which my brother, all the time dying with hunger, continued to pretend to eat. But what he boasted the most of, was a lamb that had been fatted with pistachio nuts, and which he ordered, and was served in the same manner as the other dishes had been. “Now this,” said he, “is a dish you never meet with any where but at my table, and I wish you to eat your fill of it.” As he said this, he pretended to take a piece in his hand, and putting it to my brother’s mouth, “take and eat this,” he said, “and you will not think ill of my judgment in boasting of this dish.” My brother held his head forward, opened his mouth, pretended to take the piece and to chew and swallow it with the greatest pleasure. “I was quite sure,” said the Barmecide, “you would think it excellent.”—“Nothing can be more so,” replied Schacabac. “In short, no table can be more deliciously served than yours.”—“Now bring me the ragout,” said the other, “and I do not think you will be less pleased with that than with the lamb. Well, what do you think of it?”—“It is wonderful,” answered my brother; “we at the same time have in this the flavor of amber, cloves, nutmegs, ginger, pepper, and sweet herbs; and yet they are all so well balanced, that the presence of one does not prevent the flavor of the rest. How delicious it is!”—“Do justice to it then,” cried the Barmecide, “and eat heartily I beg. Holloh, boy,” cried he, raising his voice, “bring us a fresh ragout.”—“Oh, no, if you please,” said Schacabac, “for in truth, my lord, I cannot indeed eat any more.”
“Let the desert, then,” said the Barmecide, “be served, and the fruit brought.” He then waited a few moments, in order to give the servants time to change the dishes, then resuming his speech, he said, “Taste these almonds, they are just gathered and very good.” They then both pretended to take the skin off the almonds, and eat them. The Barmecide, after this, invited my brother to partake of many other things. “Here are, you see,” he said, “all sorts of fruits, cakes, dried comfits, and preserves; take what you like.” Then stretching out his hand, as if he was going to give him something, “take this lozenge,” he said, “it is excellent to assist digestion.” Schacabac pretended to take and eat it. “Here is no want of musk in this, my lord?”—“I have these lozenges made at home,” said the Barmecide, “and for these, as well as every thing else in my house, nothing is spared.” He still continued to persuade my brother to eat. “For a man,” he said, “who was almost starving when he came here, you have really eaten hardly any thing.”—“My lord,” replied Schacabac, whose jaws were weary of chewing nothing, “I assure you I am so full, that I cannot eat a morsel more.”
“Well, then,” cried the Barmecide, “after having eaten so heartily it is necessary to drink [11] a little. You have no objection to good wine?”—“My lord,” replied my brother, “if you will excuse me, I never drink wine, because it is forbidden me.”—“Oh, you are too scrupulous,” said the other, “come, come, do as I do.”—“To oblige you then,” replied Schacabac, “I will; for I observe you do not like that any thing should be omitted in our feast. But as I am not in the habit of drinking wine, I am fearful of being guilty of some fault against good breeding, and even against the respect that is due to you. It is for this reason, that I still entreat you to excuse my drinking any wine; I shall be well satisfied with water.”—“No, no,” said the Barmecide, you must drink wine.” At the same time he ordered some to be brought. But the wine, like the dinner and desert, never in reality appeared. He then pretended to pour some out, and drank the first glass. After that, he poured out another glass for my brother, and presenting it to him, “Come, drink my health,” he cried, “and tell me if you think the wine good.”
My brother took the ideal glass, and first holding it up, and looking to see if it were of a good bright colour, he put it to his nose, in order to examine if it had an agreeable perfume; he then, making a most profound reverence to the Barmecide, to show that he took the liberty to drink his health, drank it off; accompanied at the same time with proofs of receiving great pleasure from the draught. “My lord,” he said, “I find this wine excellent; but it does not seem to me quite strong enough.”—“You have only to speak,” replied the other, “if you wish for any stronger. I have various sorts in my cellar. We will see if this will suit you better.” He then pretended to pour out some of another sort for himself, and also some for my brother. He did this so frequently, that Schacabac, pretending that the wine had got into his head, feigned to be drunk. He raised his hand, and gave the Barmecide such a violent blow, that he knocked him down. He was going to strike him a second time, but the Barmecide, holding out his hand to avoid the blow, called out, “Are you mad?” My brother then recollecting himself, said, “My lord, you had the goodness to receive your slave into your house, and to make a great feast for him: you ought to have been satisfied with having made him eat, and not compelled him to drink wine. I told you at first that I should be guilty of some disrespect; I am very sorry for it, and ask you a thousand pardons.”
He had hardly finished this speech, before the Barmecide, instead of putting himself in a great passion, and being very angry, burst into a violent fit of laughter. “I have searched for a long time,” said he, “for a person of your disposition. I not only pardon the blow you have given me, but from this moment I wish to look upon you as one of my friends, and that you shall make no other house than mine your home. You have had the complaisance to accommodate yourself to my humor, and the patience to carry on the pleasantry to the end; but we will now eat in reality.” Having said this, he clapped his hands, when several slaves instantly appeared, whom he ordered to set out the table and serve dinner up. His commands were quickly obeyed, and my brother was now in reality treated with all the same dishes he had before partaken of in idea. As soon as the table was cleared, they brought some wine; and a number of beautiful female slaves, most richly dressed, appeared, and began to sing some pleasant airs to the sound of instruments. Schacabac had in the end every reason to be satisfied with the kindness and civility of the Barmecide, who took a great fancy to him, and treated him in the most familiar manner; he gave him also a handsome dress from his own wardrobe.
The Barmecide found my brother possessed of so much knowledge of various sorts, that in the course of a few days he entrusted him with the care of all his house and other affairs; and my brother acquitted himself of his charge during the time it lasted, which was twenty years, to the complete satisfaction of his employer. At the end of this period, the generous Barmecide, worn out with old age, paid the common debt of nature; and as he did not leave any heirs, they confiscated all his fortune to the use of the prince. They even took from my brother every thing he had saved. Finding himself thus reduced to the state he was in at first, he joined a caravan of pilgrims, going to Mecca, with the intention of making, by means of their charitable disposition, the same pilgrimage. During their journey, the caravan was unfortunately attacked and plundered by a party of Bedouin [12] Arabs, who were more numerous than the pilgrims.
My brother thus became the slave of a Bedouin, who for many days continually gave him the bastinado, in order to induce him to get himself ransomed. Schacabac protested to him, that it was all to no purpose for him to ill-treat him in this manner. “I am your slave,” said he, “and you may dispose of me as you like; but I declare to you, that I am in the most extreme poverty, and that it is not in my power to ransom myself.” My brother tried every expedient to convince him of his wretched condition: he endeavored to soften him by his tears, but the Bedouin was inexorable; and through revenge, at finding himself disappointed of a considerable sum of money, which he fully expected to receive, he absolutely took his knife and slit up the lips of my brother, and by this inhuman act, he endeavoured to repay himself for the loss he supposed himself to have suffered.
This Bedouin had a wife who was rather handsome; and he very soon after left my brother with her, when he went on his excursions. At these times, his wife left no means untried to console him for the rigour of his situation. She even gave him to understand she was in love with him; but he dared not return her passion, for fear he should have reason to repent of it: he, therefore, took every precaution to avoid being alone with her, whenever she seemed to wish it. She, at length, became so much accustomed to joke, and amuse herself with the hard-hearted Schacabac, whenever she met him, that she one day forgot herself, and did it in the presence of her husband. My poor brother, without in the least thinking he was observed, for so his ill-luck would have it, returned her pleasantries. The Bedouin immediately imagined that they passed their time, during his absence, in a way not very consistent with his honor. This suspicion put him into the greatest rage; he threw himself upon my brother, and after mutilating him in the most barbarous manner, he carried him on a camel to the top of a high desert mountain, where he left him. The road to Bagdad happened to pass over this very mountain, and some travellers, who accidentally met him there, informed me where he was to be found. I made all the haste I could to the place; and I found the unfortunate Schacabac in the most deplorable condition it was possible to be in. I afforded him every assistance and aid he stood in need of, and brought him back with me into the city.
This was what I related to the caliph Mostanser Billah (added the barber.) The prince very much applauded my conduct, by reiterated fits of laughter. “This must be the reason,” he said to me, “that they have given you, and so justly, the name of ‘Silent,’ and no one can say you do not deserve it. Nevertheless, I have some private reasons for wishing you to leave the town; I, therefore, order you immediately to quit the city. Go, and never let me hear of you again.” I yielded to necessity, and travelled for many years in distant parts. I at length was informed, that the caliph was dead; I returned, therefore, to Bagdad, where I did not find one of my brothers alive. It was on my return to this city, that I rendered to this lame young man the important service which you have been informed of. You are also witnesses of his great ingratitude, and of the injurious manner in which he has treated me. Instead of acknowledging his great obligations to me, he has chosen rather to wander at a distance from his own country in order to avoid me. As soon as I discovered that he had left Bagdad, and although no person could give me any information of the road he had taken, or into what country he had travelled, I did not hesitate a moment, but instantly set out to seek him. I passed on from province to province for a considerable length of time; and I accidentally met him to-day at a time I least expected it. And least of all did I expect to find him so irritated against me.
Having in this manner related the history of the lame young man and the barber of Bagdad to the sultan of Casgar, the tailor went on as follows:
When the barber had finished his story, we plainly perceived the young man was not wrong in accusing him of being a great chatterer. We nevertheless wished that he should remain with us and partake of the feast which the master of the house had prepared for us. We then sat down at table, and continued to enjoy ourselves till the time of the last prayers before sun-set. All the company then separated; and I returned to my shop, where I remained, till it was time to shut it up, and go to my house.
It was during this interval, that the little hunchback, who was half drunk, came before my shop; when he sat down and sung, and played on the symbal. I thought that by taking him home with me, I should afford some entertainment to my wife; and it was for this reason only, that I invited him. My wife gave us a dish of fish for supper, to which I helped the little hunchback, who immediately began to eat, without taking sufficient care to avoid the bones, and instantly fell down senseless before us. We tried every thing in our power to relieve him, but without effect; and then, in order to free ourselves from the embarrassment into which this melancholy accident had thrown us, and the great fright it caused us, we did not hesitate a moment to carry the body out of our house, and induce the Jewish physician to receive it in the manner your majesty has heard. The Jewish physician let it down into the apartment of the purveyor, and the purveyor carried it into the street, where the merchant thought he had killed him. This, Sire, (added the tailor,) is what I wished to say to your majesty in my justification. It is for you to determine, whether we are worthy of your clemency, or your anger; whether we deserve to live or die.”
The sultan of Casgar’s countenance expressed so much satisfaction and content, that it gave new life to the tailor and his companions. “I cannot deny,” he said, “that I am more astonished at the history of the lame young man, of the barber, and with the adventures of his brothers, than at any thing in the history of my buffoon. But before I send you all four back to your own houses, and even before I order the burial of the little hunchback, I wish to see this barber, who has been the cause of your pardon. And since he is now in my capital, it will not be difficult to satisfy my curiosity.” He immediately ordered one of his attendants to go and find him out, and to take the tailor with him, who knew where he most probably was.
The officer and tailor were not long absent, and brought back the barber with them, whom they presented to the sultan. He appeared like a man of about ninety. His beard and eyebrows were as white as snow; his ears hung down a considerable length, and his nose was very long. The sultan could scarcely refrain from laughter at the sight of him. “Man of silence,” said he to the barber, “I understand that you are acquainted with many wonderful histories, I wish very much that you would relate one of them to me.”—“Sire,” replied the barber, “for the present, we will, if it please your majesty, not speak of the histories which I may know; but I most humbly entreat you to permit me to ask one question: and that is, for what reason this Christian, this Jew, this mussulman, and this hunchback, whom I see extended on the ground, are in your majesty’s presence.” The sultan smiled at the liberty the barber took, and said, “Of what consequence can that be to you?”—“Sire,” returned the barber, “it is of consequence to me to make this inquiry; namely, that your majesty may know, that I am not that great talker which some people pretend; but a man who has very justly acquired the title of the Silent.”
The sultan of Casgar had the complaisance to satisfy the barber’s great curiosity. He desired the adventures of the little hunchback to be related to him, since he seemed so very anxious to hear it. When the barber had heard the whole story, he shook his head, as if he meant it to be understood, that he thought there was something which he could not well comprehend. “Truly,” he exclaimed, “This is a very wonderful history: but I should vastly like to examine this little hunchback a little more closely.” He then went near to him, and sat down on the ground. He took his head between his knees, and after examining him very attentively, he suddenly burst out into a violent fit of laughter; and with so little restraint, that he absolutely fell backwards, without at all considering that he was in the presence of the sultan of Casgar. He then got up laughing heartily the whole time. “You may very well say,” he at length cried, “that no one dies without a cause. If ever a history deserved to be written in letters of gold, it is this of the hunchback.”
This speech made every one look upon the barber as a buffoon; or like an old man who had lost his senses.
“Man of silence,” said the sultan, “answer me: what is the reason of your clamorous laughter?” “Sire,” replied the barber, “I swear, by your majesty’s good nature, that this hunchback fellow is not dead; there is still some life in him; and I wish to be considered as a fool and a madman, if I do not instantly prove it to you.” Having said this, he produced a box, in which there were various medicines, and which he always carried about with him, to use as occasion might require. He opened it, and taking out a phial, containing a sort of balsam, he rubbed some of it, for a length of time, on the neck of the hunchback. He then drew out of a case an iron instrument suited to the purpose, with which he set open his jaws; and by these means he was enabled to put a small pair of pincers into the hunchback’s throat, and drew out the fish-bone, which he held up and showed to all who were present. Almost immediately after this the hunchback gave a sneeze, stretched out his hands and feet, opened his eyes, and gave many other proofs of being alive.
The sultan of Casgar, and all who were witness to this excellent operation, were less surprised at seeing the hunchback brought to life, although he had passed a night and almost a whole day without the least apparent sign of animation, than they were at the merit and skill of the barber, whom they now began to regard, in spite of all his faults, as a very great personage. The sultan was so filled with joy and admiration, that he ordered the history of the hunchback, as well as that of the barber, to be instantly committed to writing; that the knowledge of it, which so well deserved to be preserved, might never be forgotten. He was not satisfied with this; but in order that the tailor, the Jewish physician, the purveyor, and the Christian merchant might ever remember with pleasure the adventures which the accident of the hunchback had caused them, he presented each of them with a very rich robe, which he made them put on in his presence, before he dismissed them. And he bestowed upon the barber a large pension; and retained him ever afterwards near his person.
The sultana Scheherazadè thus finished this long series of adventures, to which the supposed death of the hunchback had given rise. She was now silent. Her sister Dinarzadè, observing, that she had done speaking, said to her, “My dear princess, my sultana, I am much the more delighted with the story you have just finished, because it was brought to a conclusion by so unexpected an incident. I really thought the little hunchback was quite dead.”—“This surprise has also afforded me pleasure,” said Schahriar, “as well as the adventures of the barber’s brothers.”—“The history of the lame young man of Bagdad has also very much diverted me,” rejoined Dinarzadè.—“I am highly satisfied, my dear sister,” replied Scheherazadè, “at having been able thus to entertain the sultan, our lord and master, as well as yourself; and since I have had the good fortune not to weary his majesty, if he will have the goodness to prolong my life still further, I will have the honour to relate to him the history of the amours of Aboulhassan Ali Ebn Becar, and of Schemselnihar, the favourite of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, which is not less worthy of his attention, and yours also, than the history of the hunchback.” The sultan of India, who was well satisfied at every thing Scheherazadè had hitherto related, was determined not to forego the pleasure of hearing this other history, which she promised. He now therefore arose and went to prayers, and then sat in council; and the next morning Dinarzadè did not fail to remind her sister of her promise, which she was thus prepared to fulfil.