STORY OF THE CANDY-MAKER’S APPRENTICE
The tellers of stories and narrators of tales say that, once upon a time, there lived a woman who had a son and a daughter who were dearer to her than all else upon the earth. She was so anxious concerning them that they were never permitted to go upon the streets.
One day, to her great disquiet, it became necessary for her husband to go to the Hejaz, and that the son should accompany him.
“I am leaving you and the girl under the protection of the priest,” said the father, in an effort to lessen her anxiety. “If you should have need of anything, ask it of him.” So saying, accompanied by the son, he took leave of his wife and daughter and set off to the Hejaz.
Let us come to the priest.
One day, when he went up to the minaret to give the call to prayer, he looked down into the garden [[183]]of this man and woman, and saw there the girl who had been intrusted to his care.
Now, the girl was very lovely. And when he saw her, she was engaged in caring for the flowers in the garden. As she did so a soft melody came from her lips. It was like the humming of a bird.
The priest’s heart was touched. He forgot his vows and fell in love with the maiden. When he had reached home, the picture of the peaceful garden, with its gentle occupant among her flowers, stood ever before his eyes; and the music of her song rang through and through his heart, until he lost all wisdom and made up his mind that he would meet the maiden, at all costs.
He sought out a poor and aged woman among his parishioners, and, giving her a sum of money, told her to bring the daughter of the man who had gone to the Hejaz to some place where he would be able to talk with her.
“That will be very difficult,” the woman replied. “The mother of this girl has never permitted her to leave the house and garden.”
“If you want the money,” insisted the priest, “you must bring it about that I can speak to this maiden. Otherwise—” and he reached out his hand to take back the gold.
This decided the woman, who was very poor. [[184]]“Very well,” she hastened to say, “to-morrow, at such a time, I will bring this maiden to the house of my friend yonder.”
Then they parted.
The next day the aged woman took a make-believe bundle of towels and other bathing necessities, and went to the home of the mother, where she asked that the daughter be permitted to accompany her to the opening of a new bathing house.
“There will be fine performances there,” said she, “and very many beautiful girls of high degree will bathe there to-day, and afterward watch the performance. Let your daughter go with me, to join the others. She should see something of life. I will take good care of her and bring her back early in the evening.”
But the answer was: “Mother, up to this time my daughter has not been one of those who gad about to different places. Just two days ago—counting yesterday and to-day—her father went to the Hejaz. Should I let her go out during his absence, people will say that as soon as the father is away, then my daughter and I begin to walk the streets. They will be surprised and scandalized.”
The old woman became importunate. “Visiting the bath is quite different from running about to other places,” she said. “No one will talk. Besides, [[185]]I am not asking you to go; I am only asking why your daughter must remain at home, when the daughters of so many of your neighbors go? Do not refuse! I shall take her with me, whether or no!”
With words like these she succeeded in persuading the mother and, after a little, set off accompanied by the girl. They soon reached the house appointed for the meeting, when the girl expressed surprise at not finding many people entering. But her companion assured her that it was yet early, and that others would come speedily. She directed the unsuspecting girl to enter and await her coming, as she had an errand on the next street and would return speedily. At this she hastened away, leaving the girl with nothing to do but as she had directed.
So the maiden entered the strange house and was surprised to see there the priest of her own quarter of the city. She went directly to him and asked if that were the bath house in which the performers were to display feats of strength and skill; and again expressed surprise that no others were there.
The reply was more surprising still: “Should no others come, you and I can spend a pleasant hour together. There is water in the next room; bathe, if you wish; afterward I will bathe also.”
The poor girl was confused—first, at meeting [[186]]the priest, then at the consciousness that she had been deceived; but she soon collected herself.
“With your gracious permission,” she said, “I will wash your head first.”
He expressed gratification at this; and the girl went slowly—thinking all the way—to bring a basin of water, with soap and towels. After her return, and when the priest had seated himself before her, she soaped his hair thoroughly, and then poured water upon it, so that the soap ran down into his eyes. Then, as he became blinded with pain and rage, she made her escape to her own home.
The mother expressed delight at her early return; but questioned whether she had enjoyed herself.
“Very well, indeed,” was the reply—given to save her mother from vexation. “The bath was perfect.”
After his calls for help had brought assistance, the priest went home vowing vengeance. Accordingly he sat down and wrote to the young girl’s father, saying that, since his departure, the daughter whom he had so cherished was running about the streets and had become a disgrace to the town.
When this letter was received by the father, he cried: “Alas! what humiliation! It were better that the girl were dead!”
After long dwelling upon the frightful news a [[187]]sort of frenzy took possession of him. He commanded his son to go home, cut off the head of his sister, dip her white garment in the blood, and return with it to him.
“Go! go at once!” he commanded; and the unwilling boy set off.
After traveling all the long way he arrived at his native place. During those days of the journey, love for his sister and horror at the commission put upon him filled his soul. He determined to assure himself of the truthfulness or untruthfulness of the accusation and, even should it prove true, to rescue his sister if possible. Accordingly he began at one end of the town and asked all whom he met where he would be most likely to find his sister.
“Surely, in her own home,” each replied. “No one has ever seen her elsewhere.”
Receiving only answers like this, he reached his own home and knocked at the gate.
“Why, it is my brother!” exclaimed the sister, as she looked through the lattice. Then, flying down the stairs, she greeted him joyfully and escorted him up the staircase, asking eagerly where her father was.
The boy, seeing that the mother was not in, answered: “He is on the way. Come, let us go to meet him!” [[188]]
They hastened out. The youth led the way to a mountain, where he said: “My sister, I have sad news to tell you. A letter was sent to our father by the priest in whose charge he left you, saying that you were constantly running about the streets and had become a disgrace to the place. Upon hearing this he was made into another man. His grief and disappointment put the heart out of his body. He sent me here to kill you. And, to assure himself of my obedience, he commanded that I should dip your white garment in your blood and bring it to him with all speed. This—O, sister of mine!—is the reason for my coming.”
The girl was speechless when she heard these words, and even did not think to contradict the report. The boy hastened to kill a young lamb, which he found in a flock near-by, dipped the garment of his sister in the warm blood, and then said to her:
“Ai! my sister, this is our day of parting. It will be necessary for you to go into a strange land. And may Allah be with you! May he be your helper!”
They embraced each other and separated. The desolate girl wandered, weeping, from mountain to mountain, while the boy took the garment that had been dipped in lamb’s blood, and returned all the [[189]]long way to the Hejaz and gave it to his father, saying:
“Here, my father! Receive the bloody garment of your daughter, which I have brought in fulfillment of your command.”
“Now shall my house be saved from the tongue of slanderers!” were the only words of the father as he received the token which meant, to him, the death of his only daughter.
Let these remain here while we return to the wandering girl.
After walking and walking from one mountain to another, she came upon a spring, beside which grew a tree. She drank of the delicious water, then sat down in the shade of the tree to rest. But it was evident that wild animals were upon the mountain, and with the coming of evening the helpless girl wondered what she should do. As she looked about her, the tree seemed to lean down its branches as if in invitation. Taking this as a sign, she climbed near to its top and remained there that night.
Now, it so happened that the son of the king of that country had been hunting for ten days and nights. Upon the morning he came to the spring, dismounted, and led his horse down to drink. The horse was about to touch his lips to the water when [[190]]he saw the reflection of the young girl upon the surface, drew back suddenly, and would not be persuaded to drink. All the urging of his master was of no avail, although the prince knew that the poor creature was much in need of water.
The surprised young man glanced about him in wonder at the strange occurrence, when he caught sight of the girl, sitting in breathless fear of being discovered.
“Are you a maiden or a fairy?” he asked, his heart beating.
“I am only a maiden.”
“That is much better. May it please you to descend. And if you will do me the honor to accompany me to my father’s palace, this will be my ‘bag’ for to-day.”
After assisting the affrighted girl to the ground he took her upon the horse behind him, and together they rode to the home of the prince.
Strange as it may seem, the king was not angry when his son told the story of his rescue of the maiden, and asked permission to marry her.
“Let me see this strange game which you bring home after ten days of hunting, my son,” he asked, smiling. And the maiden, when brought into his presence, was so gentle and modest that he gave his consent to the wedding. [[191]]
Therefore, according to the will of Allah and the law of the Prophet, these two young people were married, and their wedding feast lasted forty days and forty nights.
In due course of time three children were born to them. This increased the happiness of the prince and his gratitude to Allah at having been led to the tree beside the spring upon the mountain.
We will leave these children while we attend to their mother, who had been made princess.
One day the memory of her own mother—who had so cherished her—came to her so strongly that tears, like drops of rain, began to flow from her eyes. The prince, coming in, saw her sorrow, and asked, with concern:
“Why do you grieve thus, my princess! Are you not happy with all I have done to make you so?”
“My lord, as I sat sewing to-day, I thought of my own mother. Desire to see her again wrings my heart.”
“Is your mother yet alive?” He asked this because he had respected the silence of his wife about her family, and had not questioned her before—feeling almost certain that some sad tragedy had come into her life. Therefore he asked, “Is your mother yet alive?” [[192]]
“Ai, my lord! I trust so; though it is long since we parted.”
Then the prince exclaimed: “Why have you not spoken of it until this moment? The desire of your heart shall be granted. Either we will bring your mother here or you shall go to her. Choose, my princess! We will do whichever your soul prefers.”
“My lord,” was the answer, “may Allah prolong your life and give you health and happiness! If you will grant permission, let me go to-morrow, with my children, and see her face once more, with my own eyes, and at the same time show her my three little sons.”
“It shall be so!” returned the prince. “I will send my vizier, with a number of soldiers, to conduct you and the children to your own mother.”
Morning came, and the prince, true to his promise, called his vizier and intrusted the princess to his care. Soon they were ready to set off—the mother, with her three children, in a carriage, the vizier on horseback, and a battalion of soldiers as escort.
But the princess was to meet other sorrows. They had not journeyed far when the vizier—who had not spoken a word—put his head in at the carriage window and asked, “Will you marry me, or shall I kill the children?” [[193]]
The princess was amazed beyond the power of speaking.
Then the vizier said: “Yes; certainly you will marry me. We will not return to the prince. I have suborned these soldiers. They will obey my commands. I have gold. We can go into another country. There is no reason why this should not be.”
But the princess refused. Then the vizier seized one of the children, killed it, and threw it beside the road.
After some time he repeated his question, received the same answer, and, notwithstanding the entreaties of the princess, took the second child, and, later on, the third. The poor woman was in despair.
Then the vizier said to her, “Verily, I will kill you, too, unless you will become my wife.”
“I pray you to give me half an hour’s grace in which to perform my ablutions and say my prayers. There must be a spring by that tree yonder.”
“Very well, it is granted,” said the vizier.
He ordered the carriage to halt, tied a rope around her waist—so that she could not escape—and permitted her to go as she had requested.
The princess went to the spring, untied the rope, fastened it about the tree, and fled around to the other side of the mountain. [[194]]
After some time the vizier pulled the rope; but, as it did not yield, he thought the princess was saying her prayers, and waited. After a while he said to himself: “It has been more than a half hour. What an interminable prayer she is saying! I will go and see about this.”
As he went over the little knoll, which had hid the princess from him, he discovered that his prey had escaped. Wild with anger, he turned about and made all haste to the palace, where he said to the prince:
“My lord, as we were resting by the way, Her Royal Highness, the princess, took her sons and stole away from the carriage. Is it not true, O, my prince! that no good thing can be expected from a wild mountain girl? That which comes from the mountains will return to them.”
When the prince received this news his mind took leave of his body and he fell down in a faint. Upon recovering he went into mourning, as if for the death of his wife and children.
Let these stay here while we inquire into the fate of the second-time wanderer.
Again did she go on and on, from mountain to mountain, weeping bitterly over the loss of her beloved children. She felt in her heart that a return [[195]]to her husband would be futile, because the cruel vizier would have filled his mind with falsehoods. After long wandering she came into her own country, where she disguised herself, and, entering the market place, came upon a shop that was almost in ruins. It belonged to an aged maker of sweets.
After greeting him courteously she asked, “Father, will you take me as an apprentice lad?”
“Ai, my son!” was the sad answer, “look about you and see! I cannot earn sufficient for myself. How can I give wages to another? Besides, with my other woes, I have forgotten how to make the sweets!”
Then the young woman answered gently: “Father, I ask no wages from you. If you will permit, I will work as best I can, and whatever Allah kindly sends to us we will live upon together.”
When the aged vendor of sweets heard these pious words, his heart was touched. “Surely this lad has felt affliction,” he said to himself. Then unto her: “Very well, my son. Come with me, if thou wilt.”
The new apprentice kissed her master’s hand and entered the shop. After a little, she rolled up her sleeves, went to the stove, and began to make candy, as she had done when a little girl in her own [[196]]home. This labor brought such sad thoughts that it was with great difficulty she could refrain from weeping aloud.
When the candy was finished she placed a portion before her master. He tasted a bit and said, in surprise: “Ai, my son! these sweets are very good. Peace be to your hands! May Allah keep you from further harm!”
After this commendation of her work, the apprentice washed off the stone, which served as a counter for the display of the goods, and arranged the sweets upon it. Customers who were passing, paused to note the beauty of the candy-maker’s lad, and, although they had no thought of buying, were impelled to do so. They found the sweets so delicious that all who purchased once were sure to come again. In short, the fame of the candy-maker’s apprentice and of the sweets which she compounded was spread abroad, by those who traveled that way, until it reached all lands.
Let her stay here, engaged in her new work, while we return to the prince.
One day, while thinking of his wife and children, he began—as at other times—to sigh; and the tears fell, like rain, from his eyes. Arousing himself, he sent for his vizier, to whom he said: “My heart [[197]]is breaking for Her Highness, the princess. Surely I must find her or kill myself!”
The wicked vizier was alarmed at this and answered: “My prince, the woman did not care for you. She left you and ran to the mountains. All those tears for her mother were only a part of the plot to run away. How, then, can you desire her?”
But, however much the vizier said—and he added much more—it made no impression upon the intentions of his master; who commanded that preparations should be made, with all speed, and that they should enter upon the search without delay.
Accordingly they started toward the mountains. The vizier did not lead the way past the spot where the princess escaped; but went on and on, in order to save himself. Thus it was that they entered the country from which the girl had fled, at first, when her father would have had her killed.
Being very hungry, they asked a child if there were not some cook’s shop in the neighborhood.
“No, my lords!” answered the child. “There is no cook’s shop near. But a little farther on is a candy-maker, whose apprentice makes such sweets that no one is able to equal them.”
“Let us go there!” commanded the prince; and, accordingly, they went on until they reached the shop. [[198]]
When the princess saw her husband and the vizier coming, she recognized them at once; but, pulling her cap over her eyes, she hid herself from them.
The prince addressed her: “Candy-maker, I pray you, give us a few cents’ worth of sweets!”
To which the princess made answer: “My masters, if you will deign to become our guests for the night, I will make you such a batch of sweets as you have never tasted, and will tell you an amusing story besides.”
When the prince heard these kind words, from one in a strange land, he was gratified and answered: “That will do very well. We will stay.”
Thereupon the prince and the vizier gave their horses to the groom, entered the candy shop, and sat down.
Let them stay there while we come to the people in the town.
Now, it seems that the evening of this very day had been chosen by the people, upon which to have a grand candy festival. They were wondering who should make the necessary sweets, when some one suggested that they try to persuade the candy-maker’s apprentice to put aside the regular customers of the shop and work for them during that evening. [[199]]
Accordingly, several of the men went to the shop and asked the apprentice if she would go with them to their quarters and prepare candy for the people, who had sent out invitations for a grand festival that evening.
“I am your servants, gentlemen,” replied the apprentice, “but we have guests this evening. It is not fitting that I should leave them.”
To which the men answered pleadingly: “O, master candy-maker, let us persuade your guests to accompany you. There is room, over our heads, for all.”
Whereupon the apprentice, turning to the guests, said: “My masters, we are invited to a candy festival. If you like, we will go. These gentlemen promise that you will be amused.”
The prince was pleased with anything that might lead him to forget his grief for a little, and readily agreed to the proposal. The aged candy-maker expressed willingness to look after the shop alone; and the prince, the vizier, and the apprentice accompanied the men to the place of the festival.
Upon reaching it, the prince and the vizier were conducted up the stairs into the grand reception room; while the apprentice remained below to attend to her duties.
When the sweets were finished she gave portions [[200]]to all guests, who were in the rooms leading from the garden, and then went up the stairs with her brazier of coals and kettle of candy.
She had barely entered the great upper room when she discovered, not only the prince and his vizier, but men from her native quarter of the town assembled there; among them were her father, her brother, and the priest who had wrought her so much evil.
She hid her consternation under assumed activity, placed the pot of coals in the middle of the room, and busied herself with preparing the candy. Presently she said:
“My masters, why do you sit silent? It was promised me that there would be amusement here. Let everyone relate any anecdote that comes to him; thus may you be enabled to find enjoyment and rid me of the embarrassment of having so many eyes fixed upon my work.”
The restraint, which had been upon all the guests, was removed by this hint from the apprentice. They immediately began to relate stories from the outside world—everyone telling that which first occurred to his memory. After they had amused themselves in this way for some time, one of them cried out:
“Ai, you apprentice! Since you are the one who [[201]]set us to talking, now, yourself, tell us a story and let us listen!”
“My masters,” answered she, “I have one habit. Whenever I tell a story I do not permit anyone to leave the room. So if anyone here wishes to go without, let him do so before I begin.”
At this they all cried out that no one wished to leave. So the apprentice sat down directly in front of the door and began.
First she related the story of the bath house, and all the while the priest was listening. As he became assured that he was about to be discovered, he made believe that he was ill and arose to go, crying out:
“My head! O, my head!”
“Keep your seat, fellow!” commanded the narratress. At which all the others said the same.
Then she told the story of the vizier to whom was intrusted a princess and her three children. The prince, listening but not knowing that it was the story of his own wife and children, felt his eyes grow full.
The people were all touched by the two stories; and when the teller felt assured that they were aroused to the necessary pitch, she arose and said:
“O, my people! Be it known that I am that twice-wronged one. My enemies are this priest and this vizier. This is my father; this, my brother; and [[202]]this”—here she fell upon her knees before him—“O! this is my prince and husband!”
When she had said this she went forward, and the prince covered her with his mantle; while the rest of the company sat quiet, biting their fingers to learn whether, indeed, they were waking.
When the prince could command himself, and the people had become assured of the truth of these stories, they took the priest and the vizier away and put them to death.
The princess kissed the hands of her father and brother, embraced her mother, who, hearing of the matter, had come, trembling, to learn if it were true; and, after a few days, returned to the palace with her beloved, true prince.
They were married over again, with festivities which lasted forty days and forty nights. They also had their hearts’ desire in the gift of children, to take the place of those who had been lost. Salaam! [[203]]