To conclude: I am disposed to believe that the Turkī translation was made from the Arabic, because the story of “King Dādīn and his Two Viziers,” given in pages [189]–194, corresponds with Habicht’s text and with Cazotte’s translation, but varies materially from the Persian text, in which the cameleer, who discovers the pious daughter of the murdered Vizier, is represented as being in the service of King Dādīn, who, when informed of the lady’s wonderful sanctity, visits her at the cameleer’s house and becomes reconciled to her; while in the Turkī version, in Habicht’s text, and in Cazotte (who probably knew nothing of the Turkī translation) the cameleer is in the service of the King of Persia, who visits the maiden, marries her, and punishes King Dādīn and the wicked Vizier. If, then, the Turkī version, which dates as far back as A.D. 1434, was made from the Arabic, and if the latter was translated, or adapted, from the Persian, it is not unlikely that the History of the Ten Viziers in its Arabian dress existed some time before the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night was composed in its present form; and therefore the Persian version may be, as Lescallier conjectured, “very ancient.” And since we have discovered that two of the stories exist in a work which is of Sanskrit origin (see pp. [xliii] and [xliv]—and in line 6 of the latter for “King of Abyssinia” read “King Dādīn,”), we may go a step farther, and suppose the other stories in the Romance of Bakhtyār to have been also derived from Indian sources.
THE BAKHTYĀR NĀMA.
THE BAKHTYĀR NĀMA.
CHAPTER I.
HISTORY OF KING ĀZĀDBAKHT AND THE VIZIER’S DAUGHTER.
Thus it is recorded by the authors of remarkable histories, and the narrators of delightful tales, that there was once in the country of Sīstān, a certain King, possessing a crown and a throne, whose name was Āzādbakht; and he had a Vizier entitled Sipahsālār, a person of such bravery and skill that the moon concealed herself among the clouds from fear of his scimitar. This Vizier had a daughter endowed with such exquisite beauty that the rose of the garden and the moon of the heavenly spheres were confounded at the superior lustre of her cheeks. Sipahsālār loved this daughter with excessive fondness, so that he could scarcely exist an hour without her. Having gone on an expedition to inspect the state of the country, it happened that he found himself under a necessity of passing some time from home. He immediately despatched confidential persons with orders to bring his daughter to him from the capital. These persons, having arrived at the Vizier’s palace, paid their obeisance to the damsel, who ordered her attendants to prepare for the journey to her father. The horses were instantly caparisoned, and a litter provided with magnificence suitable to a princely traveller. The damsel, seated in this, commenced her journey, and went forth from the city.
It happened that the King, who had gone on a hunting-party, was at that moment returning from the chase. He beheld the litter with its ornaments and splendid decorations; and, whilst he gazed, it was borne quite out of the town. He sent to inquire about it; and the attendants said that it belonged to the daughter of Sipahsālār, who was going to her father. When the King’s servants returned and reported to him this intelligence, he rode up to the litter that he might send his compliments to Sipahsālār. On his approach the attendants alighted from their horses, and kissed the ground of respectful obedience. The King, having desired that they would bear his salutations to the Vizier, and they having promised punctually to do so, was preparing to turn back, when suddenly, the wind lifting up a corner of the hangings which covered the litter, his eyes were fixed by the fascinating beauty of the damsel; and he who in the chase had sought for game became now the captive prey of this lovely maid, and fell into the snares of love. At length he ordered the attendants to despatch a messenger to the north, where Sipahsālār was, and to inform him that the King would accept his daughter as a wife, hoping that he might not be esteemed an unworthy son-in-law.
When the attendants heard this, they kissed the ground of obedience, saying: “Long be the King’s life!—the sovereign of the earth and of the age, and the ruler of the world! If Sipahsālār could even dream of this honour, he would be supreme in happiness. But, if the King permit, we will proceed with the damsel to her father, and inform him of what has happened, that he may prepare everything necessary for the occasion, and then send her back to the city.” When the servant of the damsel had thus spoken, the King, who was displeased with his discourse, exclaimed: “How darest thou presume to counsel or advise me?” He would have punished the servant on the spot, but he feared lest the tender heart of his fair mistress should be distressed thereby. He accordingly remitted the punishment; and taking the reins into his own hands, he conducted the litter back towards the city, which he entered at the time when the shades of evening began to fall.
The next day he assembled the magistrates and chief men; and, having asked the damsel’s consent to the marriage, he caused the necessary ceremonies to be performed. The secretaries were employed in writing letters of congratulation; and Sipahsālār was informed of the insult offered to him during his absence, which caused the tears to flow from his eyes whilst he perused the letters of congratulation. He dissembled, however; and, concealing his vexation, wrote letters to the King, and addressed him in language of the strongest gratitude, declaring himself at a loss for words whereby to express his sense of the honour conferred upon him.