The prodigality of Arab princes to men of learning may be exemplified by the following anecdote.—Ḥammád, surnamed Er-Ráwiyeh, or the famous reciter, having attached himself to the Khaleefeh El-Weleed, the son of ´Abd-El-Melik, and shown a contrary feeling towards his brother Hishám, fled, on the accession of the latter, to El-Koofeh. While there, a letter arrived from Hishám, commanding his presence at Damascus: it was addressed to the governor, who, being ordered to treat him with honour, gave him a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold, and dispatched him with the Khaleefeh's messenger.

On his arrival at Damascus, he was conducted before Hishám, whom he found in a splendid saloon, seated under a pavilion of red silk surmounted by a dome of yellow brocade, attended by two female slaves of beauty unsurpassed, each holding a crystal ewer of wine. His admission during the presence of members of the king's ḥareem was a very unusual and high honour: the mention of the wine will be explained in the next chapter. After Ḥammád had given the salutation[136] and the Khaleefeh had returned it, the latter told him that he had sent for him to ask respecting a couplet of which he could only remember that it ended with the word "ibreeḳ," which signifies "a ewer." The reciter reflected awhile, and the lines occurred to his mind, and he repeated them. Hishám cried out in delight that the lines were those he meant; drank a cup of wine, and desired one of the female slaves to hand a cup to Ḥammád. She did so; and the draught, he says, deprived him of one-third of his reason. The Khaleefeh desired him to repeat the lines again, and drink a second cup; and Ḥammád was deprived of another third of his reason in the same manner; and said, "O Prince of the Faithful, two-thirds of my reason have departed from me." Hishám laughed, and desired him to ask what he would before the remaining third should have gone; and the reciter said, "One of these two female slaves." The Khaleefeh laughed again, and said, "Nay, but both of them are thine, and all that is upon them and all that they possess, and beside them fifty thousand pieces of gold."—"I kissed the ground before him," says Ḥammád, "and drank a third cup, and was unconscious of what happened after. I did not awake till the close of the night, when I found myself in a handsome house, surrounded by lighted candles, and the two female slaves were putting in order my clothes and other things. So I took possession of the property, and departed, the happiest of the creatures of God."[137]

In the beginning of the year of the Flight 305 (A.D. 917), two ambassadors from the Greek Emperor (Constantine VII., Porphyrogenitus) arrived in Baghdád on a mission to the Khaleefeh El-Muḳtedir, bringing an abundance of costly presents. They were first received by the Wezeer, who, at the audience which he granted to them in his garden palace, displayed a degree of magnificence that had never before been manifested by any of his rank. Pages, memlooks, and soldiers crowded the avenues and courts of his mansion, the apartments of which were hung with tapestry of the value of thirty thousand deenárs; and the Wezeer himself was surrounded by generals and other officers on his right and left and behind his seat, when the two ambassadors approached him, dazzled by the splendour that surrounded them, to beg for an interview with the Khaleefeh. El-Muḳtedir, having appointed a day on which he would receive them, ordered that the courts and passages and avenues of his palace should be filled with armed men, and that all the apartments should be furnished with the utmost magnificence. A hundred and sixty thousand armed soldiers were arranged in ranks in the approach to the palace; next to these were the pages of the closets and chief eunuchs, clad in silk and with belts set with jewels, in number seven thousand,—four thousand white and three thousand black,—besides seven hundred chamberlains; and beautifully ornamented boats of various kinds were seen floating upon the Tigris hard by.

The two ambassadors passed first by the palace of the chief chamberlain, and, astonished at the splendid ornaments and pages and arms which they there beheld, imagined that this was the palace of the Khaleefeh. But what they had seen here was eclipsed by what they beheld in the latter, where they were amazed by the sight of thirty-eight thousand pieces of tapestry of gold-embroidered silk brocade, and twenty-two thousand magnificent carpets. Here also were two menageries of beasts, by nature wild but tamed by art and eating from the hands of men: among them were a hundred lions, each with its keeper. They then entered the Palace of the Tree, enclosing a pond from which rose the Tree: this had eighteen branches, with artificial leaves of various colours and with birds of gold and silver (or gilt and silvered) of every variety of kind and size perched upon its branches, so constructed that each of them sang. Thence they passed into the garden, in which were furniture and utensils not to be enumerated; in the passages leading to it were suspended ten thousand gilt coats of mail. Being at length conducted before El-Muḳtedir, they found him seated on a couch of ebony inlaid with gold and silver, to the right of which were hung nine necklaces of jewels, and the like to the left, the jewels of which outshone the light of day. The two ambassadors paused at the distance of about a hundred cubits from the Khaleefeh, with the interpreter. Having left the presence, they were conducted through the palace, and were shown splendidly caparisoned elephants, a giraffe, lynxes, and other beasts. They were then clad with robes of honour, and to each of them was brought fifty thousand dirhems, together with dresses and other presents. It is added that the ambassadors approached the palace through a street called "the Street of the Menárehs," in which were a thousand menárehs or minarets. It was at the hour of noon; and as they passed, the muëddins from all these minarets chanted the call to prayer at the same time, so that the earth almost quaked at the sound, and the ambassadors were struck with fear.[138]

The Orientals well understand how to give the most striking effect to the jewels which they display on their dress and ornaments on occasions of state. Sir John Malcolm, describing his reception by the King of Persia, says, "His dress baffled all description. The ground of his robes was white; but he was so covered with jewels of an extraordinary size, and their splendour, from his being seated where the rays of the sun played upon them, was so dazzling, that it was impossible to distinguish the minute parts which combined to give such amazing brilliancy to his whole figure."

A whimsical story is told of a King who denied to poets those rewards to which usage had almost given them a claim. This King, whose name is not recorded, had the faculty of retaining in his memory an ode after having only once heard it; and he had a memlook who could repeat an ode that he had twice heard, and a female slave who could repeat one that she had heard thrice. Whenever a poet came to compliment him with a panegyrical ode, the King used to promise him that if he found his verses to be his original composition, he would give him a sum of money equal in weight to what they were written upon. The poet, consenting, would recite his ode; and the King would say, "It is not new, for I have known it some years;" and would repeat it as he had heard it. After which he would add, "And this memlook also retains it in his memory;" and would order the memlook to repeat it: which, having heard it twice, from the poet and the king, he would do. The King would then say to the poet, "I have also a female slave who can repeat it;" and on his ordering her to do so, stationed behind the curtains, she would repeat what she had thus thrice heard: so the poet would go away empty-handed. The famous poet, El Aṣma´ee, having heard of this proceeding, and guessing the trick, determined upon outwitting the King; and accordingly composed an ode made up of very difficult words. But this was not his only preparative measure, another will be presently explained, and a third was to assume the dress of a Bedawee, that he might not be known, covering his face, the eyes only excepted, with a lithám (a piece of drapery) in accordance with a custom of Arabs of the desert.

Thus disguised, he went to the palace, and having asked permission, entered, and saluted the King, who said to him, "Whence art thou, O brother of the Arabs, and what dost thou desire?"

The poet answered, "May God increase the power of the King! I am a poet of such a tribe, and have composed an ode in praise of our Lord the Sulṭán."

"O brother of the Arabs," said the King, "hast thou heard of our condition?"

"No," answered the poet; "and what is it, O King of the age?"