Story of Shah Manssur.
Once upon a time there was a man called Shah Manssur, from the neighbourhood of Nishapúr, who lived in affluence, but deceitful fortune had spread the chess-board of hypocrisy, had mated and abandoned him in the desert of affliction. After he lost all his property, he sat down in the lap of misery, and finding all his efforts to better his condition fruitless, he set out for India. When he arrived in Kabúl he was equally disappointed, so he went one day into the bazár, hoping to find employment as a porter. There he waited till evening, and every man found occupation excepting himself. He began involuntarily to shed tears, and one of the principal merchants, who was returning home from the palace of the Amír, saw him, and, concluding that he was suffering from some wrong done to him, asked him the cause of his distress. Manssur informed him of his circumstances, upon which the merchant took him to his house, and next morning told him that as he was in need of an attendant he might stay until he could find something more to his advantage. Shah Manssur accordingly entered into the merchant’s service, and gained by his diligence the approbation of his master, but raised the envy of his fellow servants and incurred the ill-will of his mistress. One day he felt somewhat indisposed, and the merchant’s wife sent him some poison as a medicine,[16] but as his distemper was slight he made no use of the remedy, and kept it in his pocket. Now the merchant had a little son whom Shah Manssur was wont to carry about, and who was so much accustomed to him that whenever he cried Manssur only could quiet him. It so happened that this day the child would not cease weeping, and Shah Manssur was obliged to take him into the street, hoping to divert him by looking at the passers-by. Having a little business to despatch, he set the child for a moment against a wall, which unfortunately fell and covered him. Shah Manssur was in despair and made a great outcry, whereupon the merchant came out and asked him why he made such a noise. He told his master of the accident, at which the merchant was disconsolate, and the people flocked from all directions wishing to kill Shah Manssur. Meanwhile the ruins of the wall were removed, and on the child being extricated he was found alive and perfectly uninjured. The father and mother of the child were in an ecstasy of joy at his fortunate escape, and all the people wondered. Shah Manssur fell on his knees and thanked the Most High, and everybody rejoiced. A man in the crowd proposed that a medicine be administered to the child, and Shah Manssur immediately produced from his pocket that sent to him by the merchant’s wife, and handed it to his master, but as soon as the child had swallowed it he fell into convulsions and expired. The child’s parents were in despair, especially the mother, who threatened to commit suicide if Shah Manssur were suffered to live, because, as she said, he had poisoned her son. Hereupon the merchant’s servants tied Manssur to a post, and ill-treated him so much that he fainted, and was abandoned for dead.
In the evening he began to revive and moaned piteously. The merchant was an intelligent man and could hardly believe Shah Manssur to have been so ungrateful as to kill his child deliberately with poison, so he approached the supposed culprit and besought him to speak the truth. Manssur said that as he was deeply grateful for the kindness he had received from his master and greatly attached to the child, the thought of committing such a crime could not have entered his mind; and that he had only given to the child a remedy which had been sent to himself by his mistress when he was slightly indisposed. The merchant at once perceived his wife’s treachery and was convinced of Shah Manssur’s innocence; but nevertheless he told him that he could no longer retain him in his service; so he loosed his bonds and dismissed him. Naked and wounded, as he was, Shah Manssur walked away and took refuge in the outskirts of the city with an old woman, at whose house he used to stay in better times when on his commercial journeys. Having explained to her his case, she received him kindly and set about curing his wounds. This old woman had a son who was carrying on an amorous intrigue with a neighbour’s wife. He happened to be absent on that night at a friend’s house, but his paramour was ignorant of this, and having waited till her husband was asleep she hastened to her lover’s house, which she found in darkness, and mistaking Shah Manssur for him she approached his couch. The wounded man thought it was his old landlady, and began to thank her for her kind solicitude. In the meantime the husband of the adulterous woman had missed her and made his appearance in the old woman’s house. She had just got up to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, and on perceiving a man standing with a naked sword at the door, she concluded he was a thief, and at once ran up to the roof of her house and raised an alarm, which caused all the people of the district to sally forth with sticks and swords; but the adulterous woman ran off by way of the river, which was the shortest, to her house and went instantly to bed. In the confusion her husband was struck by many stones thrown at him when making his escape, but at last he arrived home and overwhelmed his wife with reproaches; she, however, yawned, pretended to awake from sleep, turned from one side to the other, and asked what was the hour of the night. But the infuriated husband would not be deceived by this subterfuge, but vehemently accused her of being unfaithful, and even drew his sword. Upon this the woman cried aloud: “O Muslims! my husband is killing me!” and the police officers, who were at that moment returning from the alarm that had been raised by the old woman, caught the words and ran to the house, when the husband violently struck one of them with his sword, and after a brief struggle was taken into custody.
After the woman had thus got rid of her husband the wasps of lust again stung her, and being anxious to know whether her lover was sick she once more approached Shah Manssur’s couch, awoke him and began her overtures. The old woman’s son, who had been at a neighbour’s, hearing of the disturbance in his mother’s house, went home. On his way, however, when passing near the dwelling of his paramour, he went in, and finding the house empty he concluded that she had gone in search of himself. He was not aware, of course, of Shah Manssur being the guest of his mother, and when he reached home he lit a candle and went into his room, where beholding his paramour with a strange man, he exclaimed: “I have got a curious substitute to-night!” The woman fled in terror, but Shah Manssur fell into the grasp of the young man. The noise of the struggle again awoke the old woman, who, as before, thought that thieves had broken into the house, and ran to the roof of the house and screamed loudly. Her son, supposing Shah Manssur to be the thief, told her that he had taken him. The old woman tried in vain to undeceive him; but he, incited by his jealousy and rage, struck her, on which she raised a great noise, accusing him of wishing to kill her, till some neighbours came and dragged him off to prison.
Notwithstanding all that had taken place the adulterous woman could not rest and again repaired to Shah Manssur, who was this time frightened at her re-appearance, ascribing to her all the mischief that had happened during the night, and believing her to be an evil spirit was considering how he might get rid of her. The old woman’s sister, overhearing the conversation, approached the door to listen. Meanwhile the imprisoned husband had bribed his jailor, escaped from custody, and made his appearance at the old woman’s house, where mistaking her sister for his own wife he wounded her with his sword. The noise again made the landlady get up, and in the tumult the faithless wife took to her heels, as did also her husband, who believed that he had grievously wounded her and chuckled in his heart at the deed. She was, however, very swift-footed, and when he reached home he found her again in bed and to all appearance asleep. Pretending to be just awaking, she asked what he wanted, and he told her he was greatly astonished to behold her safe and sound after he had killed her at the old woman’s house. The wife sarcastically remarked that men are once a-year subject to lunatic influences which affect their minds. Quoth the man: “Possibly this may be the case with me, as I have been greatly disturbed in my mind during the last two days; you have done well to inform me of this.”
When the old woman came out from her house she saw no one except her sister, who was severely wounded. She was amazed, and said to herself: “All the tumult and mischief of this night occurred on account of the presence of this man.” So when it was morning she spoke to Shah Manssur, saying: “Dear sir, as these misfortunes have happened, my son has been thrown into prison, and my sister will perchance die of her wound; and as, moreover, my son is very self-willed and incensed against you, it will be best for you to remove from this house.” Shah Manssur accordingly left the place and began with great pains to travel towards Gaznín, bearing the load of misery on the back of sorrow, and reading the threnody of his misfortunes.[17]
After some time he was overtaken by a man riding on a camel, who accosted him and had compassion for his wretched condition. The man informed him that his name was Baba Fys, that his camel was laden with silk belonging to Khoja Fyra, the vazír of the Amír of Gaznín, who was of a very benevolent disposition and would no doubt assist him. He then took Shah Manssur on his camel, and, dreading the dangers of the night, he proceeded with great speed. The swift motion and his wounds so distressed Shah Manssur that he earnestly desired Baba Fys to set him down again, in order that he might pass the night in tranquility and thus be able to continue his journey in the morning. But his companion told him that to stop at such a place was by no means advisable, since in the vicinity there was a mountain pass to which many animals resorted under the leadership of a monkey named Paykar, who had plundered many caravans. By the prayers of the Lord Sulayman, they could now do mischief only during the night, and therefore they kept the pass obstructed all day, so that travellers must necessarily hasten through it in the night, but after that the road was quite safe, and then he might rest himself. Shah Manssur, however, was in such great distress, and so determined to alight, that Baba Fys, unwilling to abandon him to his fate, was obliged to comply with his request. They agreed to sleep and relieve each other by turns, but had rested only a short time when they perceived a camel approaching them, ridden by a monkey and guided by a bear. Many other animals of dreadful aspect also came running and attacked the camel. Hereupon Baba Fys began to lament, and accused Shah Manssur of having brought him into all this trouble. This attracted the attention of the monkey, who made a sign to the wild beasts, which immediately pulled Baba Fys to the ground, bit off his ears and then retired. This incident so disconcerted Baba Fys that he was ashamed to continue his journey to Gaznín, and, after bitterly upbraiding his companion for being the cause of his mishap, he returned to Kabúl.
Shah Manssur, though wretched and on foot, resumed his journey, and at last reached Gaznín. As it was winter and the city noted for its coldness, he strolled about till he came to a bath-house, when he said to himself: “This is a warm place, so I will spend the night in it.” Accordingly, saluting the keeper, he walked in. The keeper said: “Young man, you appear to be a stranger; where do you come from? where are you travelling to? and what is your occupation?” Manssur replied: “I am a traveller, and the caravan of misfortunes has brought me to this country.” The bath-keeper then asked him: “Did you happen to meet on your way a camel-rider named Baba Fys?” He replied: “We were companions, but in the desert we were attacked by wild beasts, who bit off his ears, and therefore he has returned to Kabúl.” On hearing this the heart of the bath-keeper became hot as a blacksmith’s furnace, seething from the flames of grief, and he exclaimed: “What more distressing news could you tell me? He is my brother; the camel was my property; and I borrowed the price of the silk. I must of necessity go home to-night and consult my relatives on this affair; and as the vazír, who is the owner of this bath and is at present sick, intends to come here in the morning, I was ordered to warm the bath well. Do you therefore put fire into it, and to-morrow I will pay you for your trouble. Take care, however, to stir up the fuel from time to time, so that the bath may become properly heated.” After giving these instructions to Manssur, he departed to his house. But as Manssur was fatigued and glad to be in a warm place, he soon fell asleep; and on awaking he found the fire was extinguished, so he got up, and in his anxiety and inexpertness he stirred the fire so as to break part of the floor above it, in consequence of which the water in the reservoir rushed down and completely put out the fire again, at the same time scalding Manssur, who fled from the place in great fear. When the vazír arrived at the bath in the morning he began to tremble from the cold, and his malady so increased that he fainted. His attendants immediately seized the bath-keeper, who asserted, in excuse, that it was all the fault of the fireman, who had run away. But the vazír suddenly dying in consequence of having caught cold, his son gave orders that both the bath-keeper and the fireman should be put to death.
Manssur, however, had made good his escape from Gaznín, and was journeying towards Lahore when he fell in with a caravan, of which one of the merchants engaged him as his servant. As Manssur was well acquainted with his duties, he diligently guarded his master’s goods, and soon gained his confidence. When the caravan had entered into one of the pargannas of Lahore, as all the provisions were exhausted, each merchant gave his servant a quantity of goods to exchange for victuals. Manssur bartered the goods he had received from his master very profitably, and returned with various kinds of provisions before any of his companions, at which his master was so well pleased that he said to him: “I hear that there are many wealthy persons in this parganna. Take therefore some goods of high price and dispose of them, and I will give you half the profits.” Accordingly, Manssur selected merchandise of nearly the value of five hundred tománs,[18] which he sold for a thousand and returned. His master gave him three hundred tománs, saying: “Let this sum be the capital of your business, which you will in a short time increase and be thus enabled to return to your own country.” Shah Manssur gratefully received the merchant’s generous gift, and, having bought suitable goods, again repaired to the parganna, and hawked them about till he arrived at the gate of an elegant and magnificent mansion, which he concluded to be the property of some noble or grandee, and thought the owner might possibly buy all his stock of merchandise. So he deposited his wares in the shade of a wall and leaned against it, watching the door of the house. Presently a maiden resembling a húrí[19] in stature, with the serenity of the moon in her countenance, and with bewitching eyes, came out of the house with a pitcher in her hand for the purpose of taking water from the river; and Shah Manssur thus addressed her: “I am at your service—
The glances of your eyes are wonderful;