“To his Majesty, also, I told the whole truth. When the king heard me to an end, he freely forgave me my crime, and gave strict orders that none should thenceforth upbraid me on that subject. ‘This man,’ added his Highness, ‘has all along adhered to the truth, and therefore he deserves my forgiveness. I have never yet seen or heard of so daring a thief as he is, that would have the manliness to confess his guilt as he has done.’ The king not only left me in possession of what I had stolen, but also gave me gold to such amount that it is not even yet expended. On that day, as soon as I returned from the royal presence, I wrote on my door, ‘He who speaks the truth is always at ease,’ as an admonition to every one who might see it.”
When the man of truth had finished his history, he said to Hatim, “Now, generous Arab, you have heard my tale; and I am truly happy in having had the power thus far to serve you. Besides yourself, noble Hatim, there lives not on earth the man who would encounter the dangers and fatigues of the journey from here to Arabia.” A few days after, Hatim took leave of his aged host, and began to retrace his way to Shahabad. In the course of his journey, the thoughts of Zarinposh, his lovely bride, constantly occupied his mind. In vain did he try to think of his friend Munir, and of Husn Banu’s seven questions; he therefore resolved, ere he returned to Shahabad, to visit his bride in his paternal halls.
One day, as he arrived at the borders of Yemen, to his great joy he came to a fountain of pure water. On his nearer approach to the spring, he observed a brace of the fowls called būtīmar[4]; and as he knew the languages of all creatures, he attentively listened to the following conversation of the birds: “My dear mate,” said the female butimar, “you shall not thus depart; I pray you abandon all thoughts of this undertaking.”—“Cease thy foolish prating,” returned the male; “what I am about to do is a service acceptable to the Creator, to whom all beings are responsible; and seekest thou to prevent me, merely to suit thine own whim? When did a wise man ever regard the advice of a woman? Are you not all false; and why, then, should I be guided by you? Have you not heard the story of the king, who was heartily ashamed of his folly in being misled by a woman?”
The female butimar having expressed great curiosity to hear the story of the king, the male thus began: “Once upon a time a certain king went out on a hunting excursion, and after toiling the whole day caught nothing. As it drew towards evening he lost his way, and wandering through the desert apart from his attendants, he came to a beautiful garden. He entered, and after walking about for some time he came to a palace, close to which was an artificial pond of water. The king, greatly fatigued, sat down on the brink of the pond, and as he was performing his ablutions, his hand caught hold of an iron chain. This he began to pull towards him, but found strong resistance, as if some great weight were attached to it.
“The king took hold with both his hands, and pulling with his whole force at last succeeded in bringing to land a chest to which the chain was fastened. His curiosity made him open the chest, for the key was tied to it. To his immense astonishment, on opening it, he beheld inside a woman of surpassing beauty. He stood for some minutes completely lost in admiration of her charms, without the power of moving a muscle.
“Soon the woman broke silence, saying, ‘Noble sir, be not thus bewildered, I am made of flesh and blood as you are.’ Hereupon she came out of the chest, and having taken out with her a bottle and goblet, she offered the prince a draught, which he drained to the bottom. They both sat down on the green bank, and conversed together. At length the king remembered his situation, and the anxiety which his attendants must feel on his account. He rose to take his departure. Pulling a valuable ring from his finger, he offered it to the lady, saying, ‘Accept this as a remembrance of me, for I must now take my leave of you. I hope, however, we may meet again, and on your showing me this ring I shall know her with whom I have passed the most pleasant moments of my life.’
“The lady, on hearing this declaration of the prince, laughed aloud, and drew from her bosom a whole string of rings, saying, ‘Noble sir, you must know that my husband is extremely jealous of me, and cannot even endure my residing in a place inhabited by mankind. He has, therefore, conveyed me to this solitary garden in the midst of the desert. Every night he comes and lives with me in this palace. When he departs in the morning, he shuts me up in this heavy chest, with a sufficient allowance of food and drink, and then casts chest and all into the lake where you found me. Many princes and nobles have lost their way when hunting in the neighborhood, as you have done, and on coming hither, discovered my prison. These also released me for a time from my durance, enjoyed my society, and gave me rings at their departure, of which here is ample proof. I keep the rings, indeed, by me, but their number is so great, that I really cannot recollect which is which; therefore, brave sir, I shall willingly accept and preserve your ring, but I cannot take upon me to remember the giver.’ The prince, on hearing this impudent confession, shut the woman in the chest as she requested, and having consigned her to her watery dungeon, he made the best of his way home. On his arrival at the royal residence, his attendants observed that his brow was clouded and his heart ill at ease. At length, the ministers of state ventured to approach him, and humbly represented their sorrow for his sadness, hoping that they themselves were not the cause.
[“His Majesty related the whole adventure as it had happened, and expressed the most thorough contempt for womankind in general. The prime minister, on hearing the king’s adventure, assured him that the fact was notorious throughout every city in his dominions, and that it was in vain to be disheartened for the inconstancy of women. The king at length banished the subject from his thoughts, and resumed his wonted cheerfulness and affability towards his faithful servants.”[5]
Thus ended the story of the butimar; after which he said to his mate, “In like manner, I doubt not, you are as faithless to me, and why should I be guided by your advice, and prevented thereby from doing what I consider right? Do you think I am to be like Hatim Taï here, who undertook to serve Munir the Assyrian prince, and has now withdrawn his hand from his noble task, owing to the charms of a woman, such is the power of the female sex over the wisest of men?”
When Hatim heard the edifying discourse of the butimar, he felt ashamed of himself, and thanked his Creator that had thus warned him of his backsliding in due time. Instead therefore of continuing his course to Yemen as he intended, he turned aside, and took the road to Shahabad. On his arrival there, the people of Husn Banu joyfully received him; and having conducted him to the caravanseraï, they gave intelligence to their mistress of his safe return. Husn Banu invited him to her palace, and after hospitably entertaining him, she received a full account of his adventure. Hatim then returned to the caravanseraï, where he passed the night in the society of his friend the prince of Assyria. Next day he revisited Husn Banu, in order to be informed of the nature of the fifth question. The lady most courteously received him in her palace, and said to him, “Brave Hatim! the fifth task which I have to impose on you is, ‘To bring me an account of the mountain called Nida.’” Hatim then took his leave of Husn Banu; and ere his departure, he once more had an interview with the Assyrian prince, and said to him at parting, “My dear friend, be of good cheer. I am now about to proceed on my fifth expedition, which, I trust, God will render propitious; meanwhile, farewell!”]