That knowing man sat down for the space of ten days in the school of meditation; but after turning over the leaves of the volume of his mind from the preface to the epilogue he could devise no plan. On the tenth day they met in the street, and he said to Zayn al-Arab: “Although the diver of my mind has plunged and searched most diligently into this deep sea, he has been unable to take hold of the precious pearl of a wise plan of operation. May God recompense you from the stores of his hidden treasury!” They were conversing in this way when a lunatic met them and asked: “Well, my boys, what is all your secret-mongering about?” The learned man said to Zayn al-Arab: “Come, let us relate our case to this crazy fellow, and see whether some flower will bloom in his mind.” Zayn al-Arab replied: “Dear friend, when you with all your knowledge have failed to devise aught during ten days’ cogitation, how can we expect to obtain any information from this unfortunate, who does not know whether it is day or night?” Quoth the learned man: “There is no telling what he might say to us; but you are aware that the most foolish as well as the wisest have ideas, and a remark, uttered perhaps at random, often furnishes a clue by which the desired end is attained.” Meanwhile a little boy had approached, and seeing the crazy fellow stopped to observe his antics.
The two friends explained their case to the lunatic, who, after being apparently immersed in thought for some time, remarked: “He who took the root of that tree for a medicine also took the gold,” and then turning his back to them went his way. They consulted with each other as to the meaning of the crazy man’s observation, when the little boy asked what kind of a tree it was. Zayn al-Arab replied that it was a jujube-tree. Then said the boy: “This is a simple affair. You ought to inquire of all the doctors in the city for whom a medicine compounded of the roots of that tree has been prescribed.” The learned man greatly approved of the boy’s acuteness and also of the crazy man’s lucky thought; and being very well acquainted with all the physicians of the city, he made his inquiries till he was informed by one of them that about twenty days before he had prescribed for a merchant named Khoja Samander, who suffered from asthma, and that one of the remedies was the root of that jujube-tree. The learned man soon discovered the merchant’s house, found him enjoying perfect health, and thus addressed him: “Ah, Khoja, all the goods of this world ought to be given up to purchase health. By the blessing of God, you have recovered your health, and you ought to restore what you found at the foot of the jujube-tree, because the owner of it is a worthy man, and it was his only possession.” The honest merchant replied: “It is true, I have found it, and it is with me. If you will tell me the amount of the gold I shall deliver it into your hands;” and when Zayn al-Arab stated the exact sum he obtained his lost money.
THE DEAF MAN AND HIS SICK FRIEND.
A deaf man had a friend, the garden of whose health became withered by the autumnal breeze of sickness, and by it he was laid prostrate on the bed of infirmity, and once went on a visit of condolence to him. On the road he said to himself: “When I meet the sick man I shall ask him how he is. And he will certainly reply: ‘I feel a little better.’ Then I will say: ‘God be praised!’ After that I will inquire who his physician is, and he will give me the name of the doctor. Then I will say: ‘He is very skilful, and he will soon free you from your disease.’ After that I will ask what food and medicine he takes. He will tell me, and then I will say: ‘Both of them are very appropriate for your distemper;’ and having recited the Fátiha,[258] I shall depart.”
He exercised himself in these questions and answers till he reached the house of his sick friend, who happened at the time to labour under great nausea and depression of spirits. The deaf man asked him: “How do you feel, my friend?” Said the sick man, in peevish tones: “Do not ask me—I am ready to give up the ghost.” The deaf man smiled and said: “God be praised! My prayer has been heard.” After that he asked: “Who is your physician, my friend?” Quoth the sick man: “The angel of death.” This puzzled the deaf man a little, but he answered: “That is well. I also had him in view, because he is so skilful, and cures every patient he treats.” Then he asked what his food and medicine were. The sick man replied: “Pain and distress.” Said the deaf man: “May they redound to your welfare; both are very proper for your disease.” Then he began to recite the Fátiha, and the sick man said: “May God forgive you,” and the deaf man took his leave.
THE GARDENER AND THE LITTLE BIRD.
It is related that a rich man in the city of Balkh possessed a garden pleasant to behold as the roses on the cheeks of fairies, adorned with various fragrant plants, blossoming flowers, and fruit-bearing trees. In that garden a little bird took up its abode and amused itself by casting the fruits, whether they were ripe or not, on the ground. Whenever the gardener entered and beheld the damage thus occasioned, the bottom of his heart was stung with the thorn of grief, and the blooming verdure of the spring of his joy became withered by the cold blasts of the autumn of that event. Though he rubbed the hands of regret much on each other, he could not remedy the evil until he had spread a net in the haunts of the bird, which was soon made a prisoner. When the gardener discovered his good fortune he joyfully leaped from his ambush, caught hold of the little bird, intending to despatch it to the regions of non-existence. In its extremity the feathered captive thus spoke to the gardener: “Ornament of the world of intelligence! may the paradise of your good wishes always be the recipient of various divine favours! Consider that if you destroy me, your loss cannot be repaired, and that he who dies is saved from all the troubles of this world. But as I am to be killed for acts which you deem improper, the love of life impels me to make a statement, if you will permit me, after which you may do as you choose; but remember that patience is a virtue of the high-minded, and hastiness a failing of foolish men.”[259] The gardener, whose wrath had somewhat abated during the address of the little bird, replied: “Before the whirlwind of death blows in the field of your life, you are at liberty to say what you desire to say.”
The little bird then said: “Wise gardener, be aware that in the west there is an oasis which my tribe inhabits, but I left my relatives and came to this spot. The pleasantness of this garden attracted me, and for some time I reposed myself on the branch of a tree. A nightingale and a lapwing were sitting together on the top of a date-tree, and a locust was flying towards them which both of them wished to catch. The nightingale was fortunate enough to seize it, but the lapwing snatched it from its captor’s beak. Hereon the nightingale said: ‘O lapwing, are you not ashamed to possess yourself of my prey? If you are able, why do you not catch your own game?’ The lapwing replied: ‘Silence! To get the prey is no honour, but it is so to deprive the hunter of his prey.’ Said the nightingale: ‘This may be true; so I give it up. But, lapwing, I have heard the other birds speak a great deal about you, and now that we have met, and as your species has in the service of the Lord Sulayman (salutation to our Prophet and to him!) enjoyed greater proximity to him than has been the lot of any other kind of birds, I wish to know what gifts or rewards you have obtained from him for the account which you furnished him of the city of Sabá and your help in other matters.’[260] The lapwing replied: ‘King Sulayman bestowed on our species three gifts: (1) Whenever the earth is being dug up for water, we are able to tell at what depth it may be found; (2) our heads have been adorned with the crest of nobility; and (3) we are acquainted with the qualities of fruits, and know that this year the garden in which we are at present has been subjected to a visitation of God, so that whosoever should eat of any of its fruits must immediately die.’ Then the lapwing asked: ‘Has your species been favoured with any other gifts?’ And the nightingale answered: ‘We have also been granted three favours: (1) a very melodious voice, which is pleasing to all hearers; (2) we possess the property of being awake during the night, which we enjoy in common with ascetics and pious men; and (3) we have been invested with the gaudy robes of love, and roses have been assigned for our spouses, whose society we enjoy without let or hindrance, and in the aspect of whose heart-ravishing cheeks we perpetually delight.’