2021-05-22
Nghìn
Lẻ Một Đêm (đêm 1-3)
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Tiếng Việt: Phan Quang dịch từ bản dịch tiếng Pháp của
Antoine Galland;
Tiếng Anh: Edward William Lane dịch từ tiếng Ả-rập ra
tiếng Anh cổ;
Bản tiếng Anh được lấy từ “The Project Gutenberg EBook
of The Thousand and One Nights”
~
ĐÊM ĐẦU TIÊN NHÀ BUÔN VÀ THẦN LINH
ĐÊM THỨ HAI
ĐÊM THỨ BA
CHUYỆN CỤ GIÀ THỨ NHẤT VÀ CON HƯƠU CÁI
CHUYỆN CỤ GIÀ THỨ HAI VÀ HAI CON CHÓ ĐEN
~~~
ĐÊM
ĐẦU TIÊN NHÀ BUÔN VÀ THẦN LINH
Tâu
bệ hạ, ngày xưa có một thương gia rất giàu có. Đất đai, hàng hóa cũng như tiền
bạc của ông nhiều vô số. Nhà ông có nhiều người làm thuê ở mướn. Thỉnh thoảng
ông buộc phải có những chuyến đi xa để bàn tính chuyện làm ăn với bạn hàng. Một
hôm công việc quan trọng khiến ông phải đi xa nhà. Ông lên ngựa, mang theo một
chiếc hòm con đặt sau yên, trong đựng một ít bánh khô và trái chà là làm thức
ăn đường. Vì ông sẽ phải đi ngang qua một sa mạc, ở đấy chẳng có gì mà mua bán.
Ông tới nơi cần tới mà không gặp trở ngại dọc đường. Giải quyết xong công việc,
ông lên ngựa trở về.
Ngày
đi đường thứ tư, ông cảm thấy quá mệt mỏi vì trời nắng chang chang, đất bị hun
nóng. Trông thấy một lùm cây không xa đường cái, ông rẽ cương ghé lại đó, định
nương bóng cây nghỉ ngơi chốc lát. Dưới gốc một cây hồ đào, có một cái giếng
thơi nước trong leo lẻo. Ông xuống ngựa, buộc ngựa vào một cành cây rồi ngồi
nghỉ dưới gốc cây hồ đào. Ông mở chiếc hòm, lấy bánh khô và quả chà là ra, vừa
ăn vừa ném hạt chà là sang hai bên. Dùng xong bữa đạm bạc ấy, ông rửa mặt mũi
chân tay rồi đọc kinh cầu nguyện.
Ông
cầu kinh xong, người còn đang quỳ gối, chợt thấy hiện lên trước mắt một thần
linh cao lớn dị thường, râu tóc trắng như cước, một thanh gươm cầm ở tay. Thần
tiến đến gần và dữ tợn thét:
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Hãy đứng lên, để cho tao dùng thanh gươm này giết chết mày, như mày đã giết chết
con trai tao!
Nói
xong, thần gầm lên. Khiếp đảm vì bộ mặt gớm ghiếc cũng như tiếng thét của thần,
thương gia run rẩy đáp:
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Hỡi ôi, chẳng hay tôi đã phạm tội gì đối với ngài đến nỗi phải chịu tội chết,
kính thưa ngài?
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Tao muốn giết mày như mày đã giết con trai tao! -Thần linh nói.
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Lạy Thượng đế, làm sao tôi có thể giết chết con trai ngài? Nào tôi có biết cậu
đâu, thậm chí chưa hề trông thấy cậu bao giờ?
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Có phải mày vừa đến ngồi ở đây không? – Thần hỏi, – Có phải mày đã mở hòm ra lấy
bánh khô và quả chà là ăn rồi tung hạt sang hai bên không?
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Quả đúng như lời ngài nói, tôi không dám chối cãi.
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Chính vì làm như vậy đấy, mày đã giết chết con trai tao. – Thần nói. – Sự việc
là thế này: trong khi mày ném hạt, con trai tao đi ngang qua, một hạt đã bắn
vào mắt làm con trai tao chết. Vì vậy tao phải giết mày!
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Ôi lạy ngài, xin ngài tha thứ cho! – Nhà buôn kêu.
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Không có tha thứ gì sất, không thương xót gì sất. Sát nhân giả tử, chẳng đúng
hay sao?
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Tôi đồng ý như vậy, – thương gia cãi – nhưng quả là tôi không có giết con trai
ngài. Và giả dụ việc đó có xảy ra thật đi nữa thì cũng bởi vô tình mà thôi. Bởi
vậy tôi van ngài hãy tha tội và cho tôi được sống!
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Không, không! – Thần linh vẫn khăng khăng. – Tao phải giết mày bởi vì mày đã hại
con trai tao.
Nói
đến đây, thần linh túm lấy cánh tay nhà buôn, giúi sấp xuống đất và giơ cao
thanh gươm, chực chặt đầu.
Thương
gia nước mắt đầm đìa vì thương vợ nhớ con, vừa kêu van mình vô tội, vừa lạy lục
hết sức thảm thiết. Tuy đã giơ cao gươm, thần linh vẫn kiên nhẫn lắng nghe
thương gia nói hết câu nhưng vẫn không động lòng chút nào.
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Vô ích thôi! – Thần linh quát. – cho dù mày có khóc chảy máu mắt ra, tao cũng cứ
giết mày, vì mày đã giết con trai tao.
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Thế nào, chẳng còn có gì làm động được lòng ngài sao? Ngài vẫn cứ khăng khăng
muốn giết một con người vô tội sao? – Nhà buôn hỏi.
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Đúng thế, tao đã nhất quyết. – Thần linh đáp. Nói xong câu ấy…
Nàng
Sêhêrazát kể đến đây thì nhìn ra ngoài thấy trời đã sáng tỏ. Biết hoàng đế cần
dậy sớm để đọc kinh rồi đi thiết triều, nàng thôi không kể tiếp nữa.
Vừa
lúc ấy, Đináczát cất lời:
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Lạy Thượng đế, chuyện chị kể mới tuyệt vời làm sao, thưa chị!
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Đoạn tiếp theo còn kỳ thú hơn. – Sêhêrazát đáp lời em. – Và em hẳn sẽ đồng ý với
chị nếu như hoàng đế rủ lòng thương cho chị sống nốt ngày hôm nay để sáng mai
cho phép chị kể nốt cho em nghe đoạn cuối.
Vua
Saria từ nãy đến giờ cũng chăm chú nghe Sêhêrazát kể một cách thích thú, nghĩ
thầm: “Ư, ta đợi đến ngày mai, để nghe nốt câu chuyện này rồi hãy sai giết chết
con bé cũng không muộn.”
Thế
là vua quyết định chưa cho đưa Sêhêrazát đi treo cổ ngay trong ngày hôm đó. Vua
dậy đọc kinh rồi đi lo việc triều đình.
Trong
thời gian ấy, tể tướng hết sức lo âu khắc khoải. Suốt đêm ông không hề chợp mắt,
mà cứ thở vắn than dài, thương cho số phận con gái mà chính ông sẽ phải làm tên
đao phủ. Lòng sầu não, khi vào chầu ông không dám nhìn thẳng vào mặt vua. Ông hết
sức ngạc nhiên sung sướng khi thấy vua bước thẳng vào triều mà không đưa ra cái
lệnh tử hình như ông đang chờ đợi.
Theo
lệ thường, suốt ngày hoàng đế chăm lo việc triều chính.
Đến
tối vua lại ngủ cùng nàng Sêhêrazát. Sáng hôm sau, trước khi mặt trời mọc,
Đináczát không quên thưa với chị:
-
Chị thân yêu ơi, em van chị, nếu chị không ngủ thì trong khi chờ mặt trời sắp mọc
tới nơi, chị hãy kể nốt cho em nghe phần cuối câu chuyện hôm qua!
Không
chờ cho Sêhêrazát kịp ngỏ lời xin phép, hoàng đế nói: “Hãy kể nốt câu chuyện về
thần linh và thương gia đi! Ta cũng tò mò muốn biết kết cục ra sao.”
Được
lệnh, nàng Sêhêrazát liền cất lời và kể tiếp như sau:
~
ĐÊM
THỨ HAI
Tâu
bệ hạ, nhà buôn nhìn thấy hung thần sắp chặt đầu mình, liền kêu lên: “Làm ơn
xin hãy ngừng tay, cho tôi được nói thêm một lời này. Xin ngài hãy gia hạn cho
tôi được phép về vĩnh biệt vợ con và phân chia gia sản. Bởi vì tôi chưa kịp làm
di chúc, để sau khi tôi qua đời khỏi xảy ra chuyện tranh giành kiện tụng lôi
thôi. Xong đâu đấy, tôi xin trở lại nơi này chịu tội với ngài.”
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Nhưng ta sợ rằng nếu ta gia hạn cho mày, rồi mày sẽ không trở lại đây nữa. – Thần
linh nói.
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Nếu ngài tin lời thề độc của tôi thì tôi xin thề có trời cao đất dày chứng giám
rằng tôi sẽ trở lại đây không lỗi hẹn.
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Vậy mày cần bao nhiêu lâu? – Thần hỏi.
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Xin ngài cho một năm, có như vậy thì mới đủ thời gian cho tôi thu xếp mọi công
việc, và cũng để khi chết tôi khỏi hối tiếc là mình chưa kịp hưởng hết mọi lạc
thú trên đời này. Vậy tôi xin hứa là sang năm đúng vào ngày này, tôi sẽ xin trở
lại dưới gốc cây này phó thân cho ngài muốn làm gì thì làm.
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Mày có dám xin Thượng đế chứng giám lời thề của mày hay không? – Thần linh hỏi.
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Có, tôi xin thề một lần nữa, và xin ngài hãy tin lời thề của tôi.
Đến
đây, thần linh biến mất, để lại thương gia một mình bên bờ giếng.
Hoàn
hồn, nhà buôn lên ngựa trở về. Lòng nửa mừng vì vừa thoát cơn hoạn nạn, nửa lo
đứt ruột xé gan khi nghĩ tới lời thề của mình. Ông về tới nhà, cả nhà hết sức mừng
vui ra nghênh đón. Nhưng ông không ôm hôn vợ con như thường lệ, mà lại òa khóc
như gió như mưa. Cả nhà hiểu ngay, ông đang có việc gì lo lắng buồn phiền lắm
đây. Bà vợ hỏi chồng can cớ gì buồn đau khóc lóc như vậy: “Cả gia đình đang hết
sức mừng vui vì bố trở về nhưng cũng hết sức lo âu khi thấy thế này. Xin hãy
nói cho biết, tại sao chàng buồn?”
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Hỡi ôi! Làm sao tôi có thể không đau buồn? Tôi chỉ còn có thể sống một năm nữa
thôi.
Thế
rồi ông thuật lại cho cả nhà nghe việc vừa xảy ra. Ông nói cho họ rõ là ông đã
thề đúng một năm sau sẽ trở lại với thần linh để chịu tội chết.
Biết
chuyện, cả nhà hết sức buồn bã. Bà vợ đập đầu bứt tóc, lớn tiếng kêu gào. Lũ
con cũng kêu khóc ầm ĩ, làm cho nhà buôn động lòng cũng khóc theo luôn. Tóm lại
không có cảnh tượng nào buồn thảm hơn cảnh tượng ấy.
Ngay
từ hôm sau, thương gia lo thu xếp công việc làm ăn. Ông quan tâm đầu tiên tới
việc trang trải các khoản nợ nần. Rồi ông mang của cải ra chia tặng bạn bè, bố
thí cho kẻ nghèo, trả tự do cho những nô lệ, nam cũng như nữ, chia gia sản cho
con cái. Đứa nào còn nhỏ tuổi thì cử người đỡ đầu. Trả lại đầy đủ của hồi môn
cho vợ, lại còn cho thêm bà nhiều tài sản khác. Mọi việc làm đúng như luật định.
Một
năm trôi qua, đã đến lúc phải lên đường. Nhà buôn thu xếp hành lý, mang theo cả
tấm vải sẽ liệm mình, rồi vĩnh biệt vợ con. Thật không có cảnh tượng nào xúc động
hơn. Cả nhà không ai nỡ để ông đi chết một mình. Tất cả mọi người đều muốn đi
theo để được cùng chết với ông. Tuy nhiên, ông gắng gượng được và nói với gia
đình: “Các con thân yêu ơi, bố phải vĩnh biệt các con vì tuân lệnh Thượng đế.
Các con hãy noi gương bố, hãy tuân theo định mệnh. Hãy nghĩ rằng con người sinh
ra ai chẳng một lần chết.”
Nói
xong, mặc cho cả nhà than khóc, ông rứt áo ra đi. Ông đến đúng nơi ông đã gặp
thần linh một năm trước vào đúng ngày hẹn. Ông xuống ngựa, đến bên bờ giếng ngồi
chờ vị thần, lòng buồn bã không thể nào tả xiết.
Trong
khi ông đang buồn rầu chờ đợi, chợt có một cụ già cầm sợi dây buộc dắt một con
hươu cái đến gần. Hai người chào nhau.
Cụ
già cất tiếng hỏi:
-
Người anh em, chẳng hay vì đâu người anh em tìm đến chốn hoang vắng, nơi chỉ có
ma quái lảng vảng, còn người thì không được an toàn? Trông cây cối đẹp đẽ thế
kia, người ta ngỡ là có người ở. Nhưng thật ra ở đây rất hoang vắng. Dừng chân ở
đây lâu là nguy hiểm đấy, người anh em à.
Thương
gia thỏa mãn sự hiếu kỳ của cụ già, nói cho cụ rõ đầu đuôi câu chuyện vì sao
ông phải tới đây. Cụ già rất lấy làm kinh ngạc. Nghe xong, cụ cất lời:
-
Thật là chuyện lạ kỳ! Ông đã bị ràng buộc bởi một lời thề với thần linh. Tôi muốn
được chứng kiến cảnh hội ngộ giữa ông với vị thần ấy.
Nói
xong, cụ ngồi xuống bên cạnh thương gia và hai người đàm đạo…
-
Nhưng trời đã sáng tỏ rồi, – Sêhêrazát chợt ngừng lời kể và nói – thế mà đoạn
còn tiếp mới thật là phần hay nhất của câu chuyện này.
Hoàng
đế muốn nghe cho hết câu chuyện, liền cho nàng Sêhêrazát sống thêm một ngày nữa.
~
ĐÊM
THỨ BA
Đêm
tiếp sau, Đináczát cất lời thưa với chị giống như hai đêm trước:
-
Chị thân yêu ơi, em van chị, nếu chị không ngủ thì hãy kể cho em một trong những
câu chuyện hay hay mà chị biết!
Nhưng
hoàng đế nói Người muốn nghe tiếp câu chuyện về thương gia và thần linh. Bởi vậy
nàng Sêhêrazát kể tiếp như sau①:
-
Tâu bệ hạ, trong khi nhà buôn và cụ già dắt con hươu cái đang đàm đạo thì chợt
có một cụ già khác đi tới, theo sau là hai con chó đen. Cụ đến gần chào hai người
và hỏi họ làm gì ở chốn này. Cụ già dắt con hươu cái thuật lại câu chuyện giữa
thương nhân và thần linh cùng lời thề của ông. Cụ nói thêm, hôm nay là ngày hẹn,
nên cụ muốn ở lại đây chờ xem việc gì xảy ra.
Cụ
già kia, thấy câu chuyện cũng đáng được biết lắm, liền quyết định cũng nán lại
chờ xem. Cụ ngồi xuống cạnh hai người. Họ vừa nối lại chuyện trò, thì xuất hiện
một cụ già thứ ba.
Ngỏ
lời với hai cụ kia, cụ hỏi vì sao vị thương gia ngồi cùng với họ trông có vẻ buồn
bã đến vậy. Được biết rõ đầu đuôi, cụ già mới tới cũng thấy câu chuyện thật quá
kỳ lạ, và cũng muốn được chứng kiến việc gì sẽ xảy ra giữa thần linh và thương
gia. Vì vậy cụ ngồi xuống cạnh những người khác.
Chẳng
bao lâu, họ trông thấy giữa đồng hoang nổi lên một làn hơi mù mịt, như thể một
cơn lốc cát đang bị gió cuốn lên. Làn hơi ấy tiến đến gần họ, tan đi và hiện ra
vị thần. Không chào hỏi ai, vị thần cầm gươm tiến tới cạnh thương gia, túm tay
ông và bảo:
-
Hãy đứng lên, tao phải giết mày như mày đã giết con tao!
Hoảng
sợ, thương gia cũng như ba cụ già đều cất tiếng khóc than.
Khi
cụ già dắt con hươu cái trông thấy hung thần tóm lấy nhà buôn và sắp sửa giết
chết ông ta không chút thương xót, cụ phục xuống dưới chân con quái vật ấy, hôn
chân hắn và nói:
-
Thưa vị đứng đầu các thần linh, tôi khẩn thiết van xin ngài hãy dịu bớt cơn thịnh
nộ! Xin hãy vui lòng nghe tôi nói đây! Tôi sẽ kể hầu ngài câu chuyện của tôi và
con hươu cái ngài trông thấy. Nếu ngài cho là câu chuyện ấy diệu kỳ và đáng ngạc
nhiên hơn chuyện vị thương gia mà ngài đang định giết chết này, thì chẳng hay
tôi có dám hy vọng rằng ngài sẽ giảm bớt một phần ba tội cho ông ta hay chăng?
Hung
thần suy nghĩ một lát, cuối cùng đáp:
-
Được, ta chấp thuận.
~
CHUYỆN
CỤ GIÀ THỨ NHẤT VÀ CON HƯƠU CÁI
Cụ
già kể:
Tôi
xin bắt đầu câu chuyện, mong các vị chú ý lắng nghe cho. Con hươu cái mà các vị
trông thấy kia vốn là em họ xa của tôi, hơn nữa vốn là vợ của tôi. Tôi cưới
nàng khi nàng mới mười hai tuổi. Bởi vậy tôi có thể nói rằng lẽ ra nàng phải
coi tôi như bố đẻ chứ không chỉ là người anh họ và người chồng mà thôi.
Chúng
tôi chung sống với nhau ba mươi năm mà không có con. Mặc dù nàng không sinh nở,
tôi vẫn hết mực thương yêu chiều chuộng, chỉ vì muốn có con mà tôi phải mua về
một nữ nô lệ. Nó sinh cho tôi một đứa con trai, cháu kháu khỉnh vô cùng. Vì
ganh tị, vợ tôi đâm ghét cả mẹ lẫn con người nô lệ ấy. Tiếc rằng khi tôi nhận
ra điều đó thì đã quá muộn rồi.
Con
tôi lớn lên, cháu được mười tuổi thì tôi có việc phải đi xa. Trước khi lên đường,
tôi ký thác cả hai mẹ con cho vợ tôi mà tôi vẫn tin tưởng, nhờ nàng trông nom hộ
trong thời gian tôi vắng nhà, chừng một năm. Thế mà ả đã thừa lúc tôi vắng nhà
để thỏa mãn nỗi hằn học của mình, ả học phép phù thủy. Và khi nắm được đủ bùa
phép để thực hiện mưu đồ ghê tởm của mình, ả dẫn con tôi đến một nơi vắng vẻ.
Sau khi dùng phép yêu biến cháu thành một con bê, ả dắt về giao cho người trông
nom trại chăn nuôi của tôi và ra lệnh phải nuôi cháu như nuôi bò. Chưa hả cơn
điên, ả còn hóa thân người nữ nô lệ thành một con bò cái và cũng giao luôn cho
người trông nom trại gia súc.
Sau
chuyến đi trở về, tôi hỏi hai mẹ con cháu đâu, thì ả đáp như sau:
-
Người nữ nô lệ đã qua đời, còn con trai ông thì đã hai tháng nay tôi không
trông thấy, chả biết nó ra sao.
Tôi
xúc động lắm trước cái chết của người nữ nô lệ. Còn về phần cháu thì chỉ mới biệt
tích thôi, vì vậy vẫn còn hy vọng có thể tìm thấy nay mai. Thế nhưng tám tháng
đã qua kể từ khi cháu bỏ ra đi mà vẫn không thấy cháu trở về nhà. Tết Bairam
② cũng
vừa đến. Tôi bảo người trông trại chăn nuôi chọn mang đến cho tôi con bò cái
béo nhất để mổ thịt dâng lễ và ăn tết. Anh ta vâng lời. Con bò cái anh ta dắt đến
chính là nữ nô lệ, người mẹ đáng thương con trai tôi. Tôi cho trói con bò cái lại,
nhưng khi tôi chuẩn bị đập chết thì nó rống lên những tiếng thảm thiết và tôi để
ý thấy nước mắt nó chảy ròng ròng. Tôi cho là chuyện kỳ lạ và không hiểu sao
trong lòng tôi lúc đó cũng đâm thương hại. Tôi không nỡ giết chết nó. Tôi sai
giao trả cho người trông trại và bảo đưa tới một con bò khác.
Lúc
ấy vợ tôi cũng có mặt. Ả run lên khi thấy tôi tỏ lòng thương hại. Không muốn để
thất bại mưu mô của mình, ả nói: “Ông ơi, ông làm sao thế? Hãy mổ thịt con bò
cái này đi. Trong chuồng không có con bò nào tốt hơn cũng như sạch sẽ hơn để
làm đồ dâng lễ đâu.” Nể lời vợ, tôi liền tiến đến gần con bò cái, cố nén lòng
thương. Tôi đã định đập chết thì con vật lại rống càng to hơn và nước mắt càng
chảy nhiều hơn, khiến cho tôi một lần nữa lại chùn tay. Thế là tôi giao chiếc vồ
cho người chăn nuôi và bảo: “Hãy cầm lấy và đập chết nó đi; tiếng be và nước mắt
của nó làm ta xé gan xé ruột.”
Người
chăn trại, không hề thương xót như tôi, đập chết con bò cái, nhưng khi mổ thịt,
thấy chỉ toàn xương, mặc dù hồi nãy ai cũng thấy con vật rất béo tốt.
Việc
ấy làm cho tôi buồn phiền thật sự. Tôi bảo người chăn nuôi: “cho anh cả con đấy.
Hãy mang đi, anh muốn ăn hoặc bố thí ai tùy ý. Thay vào đó, nếu anh có một con
bê nào thật béo, hãy dắt đến cho ta.”
Tôi
không hỏi xem anh ta định làm gì với con bò cái. Sau khi anh ta mang đi được một
chốc, anh ta trở lại dắt theo một con bê khá mập mạp. Mặc dù không biết đó
chính là con trai mình, lòng tôi chọt xốn xang khi trông thấy con vật. Về phần
con bê, vừa trông thấy tôi, nó đã lao bổ tới, đến nỗi giật đứt cả sợi dây. Nó
phục xuống dưới chân tôi, rập đầu xuống đất, như thể nó muốn làm động lòng trắc
ẩn của tôi, van xin chớ có giết nó hoặc muốn báo cho tôi biết nó chính là con
tôi đẻ ra.
Lòng
tôi xúc động khôn xiết và hết sức ngạc nhiên trước cảnh tượng ấy, còn xúc động
hơn cả khi thấy những dòng nước mắt của con bò cái. Tôi cảm thấy thương xót vô
cùng, hay đúng hơn có lẽ tình phụ tử đã trỗi dậy trong tôi chăng, tôi bảo người
chăn bò:
-
Hãy mang con bê này về, nhớ chăm nom nó cẩn thận và đưa đến cho tôi ngay tức khắc
một con bê khác!
Nghe
tôi nói vậy, vợ tôi lại kêu lên:
-
Mình làm sao thế, hở mình? Hãy nghe lời em, hãy giết thịt con bê này, chứ không
phải con nào khác!
-
Bà nó ơi, – tôi đáp – tôi sẽ không giết con bê ấy đâu. Tôi muốn tha cho nó, xin
bà chớ có cản trở tôi!
Nhưng
con mụ độc ác ấy có chịu nghe lời tôi đâu, ả thù ghét con trai tôi quá, đời nào
lại chịu để tôi cứu sống cháu. Ả khăng khăng đòi tôi phải giết nó, đến nỗi rốt
cuộc tôi buộc phải chiều lòng. Tôi trói chặt con bê lại và cầm con dao…
Kể
đến đây, nàng Sêhêrazát ngừng lại… Đêm hôm sau, nàng kể tiếp:
-
Vậy là, tâu bệ hạ, cụ già dắt con hươu cái đang kể chuyện mình cho hung thần,
hai cụ già kia và thương gia cùng nghe. Tôi đã cầm con dao, cụ già nói, định thọc
vào cổ chọc tiết con trai tôi, thì nó quay bộ mặt đầm đìa nước mắt nhìn tôi thảm
thiết tới mức không làm sao tôi đưa dao lên nổi. Tôi đánh rơi con dao xuống đất
và nói với vợ rằng tôi nhất quyết muốn giết một con bê khác chứ không phải con
này. Ả cố tìm mọi lời lẽ khiến tôi đổi ý. Nhưng mặc cho ả muốn nói gì thì nói,
tôi vẫn không lay chuyển. Tuy nhiên, để làm yên lòng ả, tôi hứa sẽ dành con bê
này mổ vào dịp tết Bairam sau.
Sáng
hôm sau, người trông nom trại chăn nuôi đến tìm tôi, xin được nói chuyện riêng:
-
Tôi mang đến cho ông một tin mà tôi hy vọng rồi ông sẽ biết ơn tôi. Tôi có một
đứa con gái, cháu cũng có học được ít nhiều phép tiên. Hôm qua khi tôi dắt con
bê mà ông không muốn giết thịt trở về chuồng, tôi để ý thấy cháu nhìn con bê mà
cười, lát sau lại khóc. Tôi hỏi cháu tại sao cùng một lúc vừa khóc vừa cười.
Cháu đáp: “Thưa cha, con bê cha vừa dắt về ấy là cậu con trai ông chủ nhà ta đấy.
Con cười vì thấy cậu hãy còn sống. Con khóc bởi vì nghĩ tới mẹ cậu ta hôm qua
đã bị giết – bà cũng đã bị hóa thân thành một con bò cái. Những việc hóa thân
đó là do phù phép của bà vợ ông chủ. Bà ấy ghét cay ghét đắng hai mẹ con cậu.”
– Đấy, cháu đã nói với tôi như vậy, và tôi xin đến để trình bày ông hay.
-
Hỡi thần linh, – cụ già nói tiếp – ngài hãy tưởng tượng xem, sau khi nghe những
lời ấy, tôi ngạc nhiên biết dường nào! Ngay lập tức tôi đi cùng người trông nom
trại chăn nuôi đến gặp con gái anh ta để tự mình hỏi chuyện. Đến nơi, thoạt
tiên tôi vào chuồng có nhốt con trai tôi. Nó không thể đáp lại sự vuốt ve của
tôi, nhưng trông vẻ nó trước những cử chỉ ấy, tôi tin chắc nó đúng là con trai
tôi rồi.
Khi
con gái người chăn nuôi đến, tôi hỏi:
-
Cháu ơi, cháu có thể làm cho cậu con trai bác trở lại nguyên hình như trước hay
không?
-
Cháu có thể làm được. – Cô đáp.
-
Nếu cháu làm được điều đó, bác sẽ cho cháu tất cả tài sản của bác.
Cô
gái đáp:
-
Bác là ông chủ của gia đình cháu, cháu biết gia đình cháu chịu ơn bác nhiều.
Nhưng cháu xin thưa trước với bác rằng cháu chỉ có thể làm được việc đó với hai
điều kiện: một là, xin cho phép cháu được lấy cậu làm chồng, hai là, cho phép
cháu được trừng trị kẻ đã hóa thân cậu thành con bê.
-
Về điều kiện thứ nhất, – tôi đáp – bác rất vui lòng chấp thuận. Hơn nữa bác còn
hứa là sẽ cho cháu rất nhiều tài sản làm của riêng, ngoài phần bác dành cho con
trai bác. Tóm lại cháu sẽ thấy bác đền ơn cháu hậu hĩnh đến thế nào. Còn về điều
kiện liên quan đến vợ bác, bác cũng muốn chấp thuận lắm. Một người đã đang tâm
làm một tội ác tày trời như vậy thật đáng bị trừng trị. Bác giao cho cháu đấy,
cháu muốn làm gì ả thì làm, bác chỉ xin cháu chớ có giết chết ả.
-
Vậy cháu sẽ đối xử với mụ như mụ đã đối xử với con trai bác nhé?
Tôi
nói:
-
Bác đồng ý, nhưng trước hết cháu hãy trả lại nguyên hình cho con trai bác đã.
Thế
là cô gái lấy một lọ nước đầy, đọc mấy câu thần chú gì đấy mà tôi nghe không
rõ, rồi nói với con bê: “Này bê kia, nếu đấng Tạo hóa chúa tể của trời đất tạo
ra mày dưới dạng hiện nay, thì mày hãy giữ nguyên dạng ấy! Nhược bằng mày vốn
là người mà phải trở thành thế kia bởi bùa phép yêu ma, thì xin Thượng đế cho
phép mày được trở lại nguyên hình.”
Nói
xong, cô hắt nước vào thân con bê. Lập tức nó trở thành người.
-
Con ơi, con trai yêu quý của bố ơi! – Tôi ôm choàng lấy cháu và thốt lên trong
nỗi mừng vui không thể nào kiềm chế nổi. – chính Thượng đế đã cho cô thiếu nữ
này đến để giải bùa yêu cho con, trả thù cho con và cho mẹ đẻ của con. Bố tin rằng
vì mối ơn ấy, con sẽ ưng thuận lấy cô làm vợ, như bố đã từng hứa với cô.
Con
trai tôi vui mừng chấp thuận. Trước khi hai cháu thành gia thất, cô gái đã hóa
thân vợ tôi thành con hươu cái, chính con vật mà các ngài nhìn thấy ở đây. Tôi
đã xin cho ả được mang hình này chứ không phải hình một con vật xấu xí, để gia
đình đỡ khổ khi phải nhìn thấy hằng ngày. Nhưng rồi con tôi trở thành góa vợ,
nó bỏ nhà đi chơi xa. Vì nhiều năm nay không được tin tức của cháu, tôi muốn đi
tìm, may ra có ai biết được tăm hơi gì của cháu chăng. Không muốn giao phó vợ
tôi cho ai trông nom khi tôi vắng nhà, tôi đành dắt ả đi theo, đi đâu tôi cũng
dắt theo. Đó là chuyện của tôi và của con hươu cái này.
Có
phải đó là một câu chuyện lạ lùng nhất, kỳ diệu nhất hay không? - Ta đồng ý với
ông, – thần linh đáp – và vì vậy ta bằng lòng giảm nhẹ một phần ba tội cho
thương gia này.
-
Tâu bệ hạ, – lời nàng Sêhêrazát – khi cụ già dắt con hươu cái kể xong câu chuyện
của cụ thì cụ già có hai con chó đen nói với vị thần như sau: “Tôi xin kể hầu
ngài câu chuyện đã xảy ra với tôi và hai con chó đen này. Tôi tin chắc rằng câu
chuyện của tôi còn đáng ngạc nhiên hơn câu chuyện ngài vừa nghe kể. Nhưng sau
khi tôi kể xong, chẳng hiểu ngài có vui lòng giảm bớt một phần ba tội nữa cho
người buôn kia hay không?”
-
Có. – Thần đáp. – Miễn là câu chuyện của cụ kỳ lạ hơn chuyện về con hươu cái.
Được
lời, cụ già thứ hai hướng vào vị thần, bắt đầu kể như sau:
~
CHUYỆN
CỤ GIÀ THỨ HAI VÀ HAI CON CHÓ ĐEN
Thưa
vị thần đứng đầu các đấng thần linh, xin ngài biết cho rằng hai con chó đen mà
ngài trông thấy kia và tôi là ba anh em trai. Tôi là em út. Cha chúng tôi qua đời
để lại cho anh em chúng tôi mỗi người một nghìn đồng xơcanh ③. Với số vốn ấy,
ba anh em tôi bắt tay làm cùng một nghề như nhau: buôn bán. Sau khi mở cửa hiệu
được ít lâu, người anh cả của tôi, tức là một trong hai con chó đen mà ngài
trông thấy kia, quyết định lên đường đi buôn ở nước ngoài. Với ý định ấy, anh
bán hết tài sản của mình để mua những hàng hóa hợp với sở thích người nước
ngoài.
Anh
ra đi và vắng nhà một năm tròn. Vừa lúc ấy, có một người rách rưới đến trước cửa
hiệu của tôi. Tôi ngỡ anh ta là người hành khất.
-
Cầu Thượng đế giúp đỡ bạn! – Tôi nói.
-
Cầu Thượng đế phù hộ cho cả bạn! – Người ấy đáp. – Lẽ nào bạn không nhận ra
tôi?
Tôi
nhìn anh ta và nhận ra:
-
Ôi anh cả! – Tôi thốt lên và ôm choàng lấy anh. -Làm sao em có thể nhận ra anh
trong tình cảnh này?
Tôi
mời anh vào nhà, hỏi thăm sức khỏe và kết quả chuyến đi của anh.
-
Chú hỏi chuyện đó làm gì! – Anh đáp. – Nhìn anh đây hẳn chú đã rõ. Thuật lại
chi tiết những nông nỗi đã xảy ra cho anh một năm vừa qua và đưa anh đến tình cảnh
này thì chỉ làm cho anh thêm buồn bã mà thôi.
Tôi
đóng cửa hiệu ngay, rồi dẫn anh đi tắm và đưa cho anh những bộ quần áo đẹp nhất
mà tôi có.
Kiểm
tra sổ sách thu nhập, thấy vốn liếng mình đã tăng gấp đôi, có nghĩa là tôi có
những hai nghìn xơcanh, tôi liền chia cho anh tôi một nửa: “Anh ạ, với số
vốn này, anh có thể không cần nghĩ tới số tiền mà anh đã thua lỗ vừa qua.”
Anh
tôi vui mừng nhận một nghìn đồng xơcanh, khôi phục việc làm ăn. Và chúng
tôi lại sống cùng nhau thân thiết như ngày trước.
Ít
lâu sau, ông anh thứ hai của tôi, tức là một trong hai con chó kia, cũng muốn
bán tài sản của mình để đi buôn xa. Ông anh cả tôi và tôi đều hết sức khuyên
can anh nên bỏ ý định ấy đi nhưng vô ích. Anh bán hết cơ ngơi, mua hàng hóa đưa
ra nước ngoài. Anh nhập bọn cùng với một đoàn nhà buôn, rồi cùng lên đường. Một
năm sau, anh trở về trong tình cảnh giống y như anh cả tôi lần trước. Tôi lại
may mặc cho anh hai. Và bởi trong thời gian ấy tôi đã làm sinh lợi thêm được một
nghìn xơcanh nữa, tôi biếu anh luôn số tiền ấy.
Anh
mở lại cửa hiệu và tiếp tục nghề buôn bán của mình như trước.
Một
hôm, hai anh tôi đến tìm tôi rủ cùng với họ làm một chuyến đi buôn xa. Thoạt
tiên tôi khước từ gợi ý ấy. Tôi nói: “Các anh đã đi buôn xa, các anh được cái
gì nào? Ai bảo đảm rằng tôi sẽ may mắn hơn hai anh?”
Hai
anh viện ra đủ mọi điều hấp dẫn để lôi kéo tôi, tôi vẫn không nghe theo ý định
của họ. Nhưng họ nhiều lần rủ rê đến nỗi sau năm năm từ chối những lời nài nỉ
cuối cùng tôi đành chịu thua. Nhưng đến khi chuẩn bị lên đường, bàn tới chuyện
mua sắm hàng hóa, tôi mới vỡ nhẽ ra rằng hai ông anh tôi đã tiêu pha hết gia sản;
cả món tiền một nghìn xơcanh mà tôi đã biếu mỗi người cũng không còn gì.
Tôi tuyệt nhiên không trách móc lấy một lời. Ngược lại, vì lúc này vốn liếng của
tôi đã lên tới sáu nghìn xơcanh, tôi chia món tiền ấy ra làm đôi, đưa
cho họ một nửa, và bảo: “Ta chỉ nên bỏ ra ba nghìn đồng thôi, còn ba nghìn ta
giấu vào chỗ nào đó kín đáo, nhỡ ra chuyến đi này không may mắn hơn hai chuyến
trước của hai anh, thì ta còn có đồng vốn để trở về theo đuổi nghề cũ của chúng
mình.”
Vậy
là ba anh em tôi chia nhau ba nghìn xơcanh, riêng tôi giữ lại chừng ấy nữa
mang chôn vào góc nhà. Sau khi mua hàng hóa, chúng tôi thuê một chiếc tàu rồi
giương buồm thuận gió lên đường. Sau hai tháng đi biển, chúng tôi đến một hải cảng.
chúng tôi ghé vào đấy, bán được hàng với giá rất hời. Nhất là tôi, tôi bán được
giá đến nỗi một đồng lãi thành mười đồng. Chúng tôi mua hàng hóa địa phương, định
mang về trong nước bán. Vào lúc sẵn sàng lên tàu để nhổ neo trở về nước, thì
tôi gặp trên bờ biển một người đàn bà rất xinh đẹp song ăn mặc thì khá tồi tàn.
Nàng đến gần, hôn tay tôi, khẩn khoản xin tôi hãy lấy nàng làm vợ và cho nàng
được cùng xuống tàu theo về nước. Tôi không muốn nghe theo lời cầu xin của
nàng. Nhưng nàng khéo nói quá, nào là tôi chớ nên quan tâm đến vẻ nghèo túng
bên ngoài, nào là rồi đây tôi sẽ hài lòng về đức hạnh của nàng, đến nỗi cuối
cùng tôi đành chịu thua. Tôi đặt may cho nàng những áo quần tươm tất. Rồi sau
khi cưới nàng với giấy tờ hôn thú hợp lệ tôi cho nàng lên tàu và chúng tôi nhổ
neo.
Trong
cuộc hành trình, tôi nhận ra người phụ nữ mà tôi lấy làm vợ có nhiều phẩm chất
tốt đẹp đến nỗi mỗi ngày tôi mỗi yêu nàng hơn. Trong khi đó hai ông anh tôi,
không buôn bán hời được hơn tôi, ganh tị sự làm ăn phát đạt của em và sinh lòng
ghen ghét, đố kỵ tới mức âm mưu hãm hại tôi. Một hôm, trong khi hai vợ chồng
tôi đang ngủ say, họ đang tâm ném chúng tôi xuống biển.
Vợ
tôi là một tiên nữ, và do đó có phép tiên. Các ngài hiểu là nàng không thể chết
đuối. Về phần tôi, chắc chắn tôi đã bỏ mình nếu không được ai cứu giúp. Nhưng
tôi vừa rơi xuống nước, nàng đã nâng tôi lên và đưa tôi tới một hòn đảo. Khi trời
sáng, nàng bảo tôi: “Chàng ơi, chàng thấy đấy, em cứu chàng chính là để tạ ơn
chàng đã đối xử tốt với em. Xin chàng biết cho: em vốn là tiên nữ. Hôm thoạt gặp
chàng trên bờ biển lúc chàng sửa soạn xuống tàu, không hiểu sao em đã đem lòng
ái mộ. Để thử lòng chàng, em đã hóa trang ăn mặc tồi tàn như chàng đã từng
trông thấy. Chàng đã xử sự với em một cách hào phóng. Em hài lòng là nay có dịp
để đền đáp ơn chàng. Nhưng em rất giận hai ông anh của chàng. Em không hài lòng
chừng nào chưa giết chết họ.”
Tôi
nghe tiên nữ nói với lòng khâm phục, và hết lời cảm tạ nàng. “Nhưng, thưa phu
nhân, – tôi nói thêm – về chuyện hai ông anh của tôi, xin phu nhân hãy tha thứ
cho họ. Cho dù họ rất có lỗi đối với tôi, nhưng tôi không tàn nhẫn tới mức muốn
cho họ chết.” Tôi thuật lại cho nàng nghe tất cả những gì tôi đã làm cho hai
ông anh, điều đó càng làm cho nàng thêm căm phẫn họ. Nàng thốt lên: “Nhất định
tôi phải bay ngay tới chỗ hai tên phản trắc ấy và trả thù ngay tức khắc. Tôi sẽ
nhấn chìm tàu của chúng và dìm chúng xuống tận đáy biển sâu.”
-
Chớ chớ, phu nhân xinh đẹp ơi, xin phu nhân chớ làm như vậy. Xin nàng nguôi bớt
cơn thịnh nộ. Xin phu nhân hãy nhớ rằng đó là hai ông anh tôi, tôi luôn luôn phải
làm điều tốt lành cho họ.
Những
lời nói ấy làm tiên nữ nguôi bớt cơn giận. Tôi vừa nói xong thì nàng đã hóa
phép đưa tôi trở về nhà, đặt tôi xuống trên nóc mái bằng, rồi nàng biến mất.
Tôi tụt xuống mở cửa vào nhà, và đào lấy ba nghìn xơcanh cất giấu. Tôi đến
cửa hiệu cũ của mình, mở cửa hiệu và tiếp đãi bạn bè hàng xóm vốn cũng là những
nhà buôn đến chúc mừng tôi trở về. Khi tôi trở lại nhà riêng, thì trông thấy
hai con chó đen. chúng chạy ra đón tôi với vẻ chịu lỗi. Tôi không hiểu điều đó
có ý nghĩa gì nên rất lấy làm lạ. Nhưng tiên nữ xuất hiện ngay và nói cho tôi
rõ: “chàng ơi, xin chàng chớ ngạc nhiên, khi thấy hai con chó này trong nhà.
Chính là hai ông anh trai của chàng đó.”
Tôi
run bắn người khi nghe lời đó, và hỏi nàng bởi phép thần nào mà họ nên nông nỗi
ấy. Nàng đáp: “Chính em làm đấy, hay đúng hơn một bạn tiên của em, mà em đã nhờ
ra tay. Em cũng đã nhờ chị ấy nhấn chìm chiếc tàu. Chàng đã mất số hàng hóa
trên tàu, nhưng rồi em sẽ đền bù cho. Về phần hai ông anh của chàng, em sẽ bắt
họ phải sống mười năm dưới hình dạng này, lòng dạ họ quá chó má cho nên làm chó
là đáng tội.” Sau khi cho tôi biết nơi để tìm đến nàng khi cần, nàng biến mất.
Đến
nay, mười năm đã trôi qua. Tôi đang đi tìm tiên nữ. Đi ngang qua đây, trông thấy
thương gia ngồi cùng cụ già dắt con hươu cái, tôi dừng lại với họ. Đấy, câu
chuyện của tôi là như vậy đấy, thưa đấng cai quản các vị thần linh! Ngài có thật
đồng ý là nó lạ lùng không nào?
-
Ta đồng ý. – Thần đáp. – Và vì vậy ta chấp thuận tha cho nhà buôn này một phần
ba nữa tội của anh ta.
Cụ
già thứ hai vừa dứt lời thuật chuyện, thì cụ thứ ba cất tiếng. Cụ cũng có một lời
cầu xin thần y như hai cụ trước, rằng nếu câu chuyện của cụ sẽ kể ra đây kỳ lạ
hơn hai câu chuyện vừa rồi, thì mong thần tha thêm cho thương gia một phần ba tội
nữa của ông ta. Vị thần cũng đồng ý và hứa như hai lần trước.
Cụ
già thứ ba thuật chuyện của mình cho thần linh nghe. Tôi xin không thuật lại,
vì chính tôi cũng không rõ. Nhưng tôi biết chắc chuyện này hay hơn hai chuyện
trước rất nhiều bởi những tình tiết phong phú và diệu kỳ của nó, khiến cho thần
linh cũng rất đỗi ngạc nhiên. Cụ vừa dứt lời kể, thì vị thần đã bảo với thương
gia: “Ta đồng ý giảm nhẹ cho anh một phần ba tội nữa. Anh phải cảm ơn ba cụ đây
rất nhiều, bởi không có ba cụ cứu giúp anh bằng những câu chuyện của các cụ,
thì mạng sống của anh đã không còn.”
Nói
xong, thần biến mất, điều làm cho ai nấy đều hài lòng.
Thương
gia hết lời cảm tạ ba cụ già. Ba cụ cũng mừng cho ông tai qua nạn khỏi. Sau đó
họ từ biệt nhau, mỗi người đi về một ngả. Thương gia trở về với vợ con, và sống
cuộc sống bình yên cho tới lúc qua đời.
-
Nhưng tâu bệ hạ, – nàng Sêhêrazát nói thêm – những chuyện em kể hầu bệ hạ từ
trước tới nay dù cho hay ho đến bao nhiêu, cũng không thể so sánh với câu chuyện
người đánh cá.
Thấy
Sêhêrazát ngừng lời, Đináczát vội nói:
-
Chị ơi, hãy còn thì giờ, xin chị kể chuyện ông lão đánh cá đi, em chắc hoàng đế
cho phép.
Vua
Saria đồng ý. Thế là nàng Sêhêrazát tiếp tục kể như sau:
Chú
thích:
① Từ đây tác phẩm thôi phân thành từng
đêm, và xin được lược bớt những lời đưa chuyện giữa Sêhêrazát và cô em gái,
tương tự những lần trước (ND).
② Tết của đạo Hồi, mỗi năm 2 lần; lần sau
cách lần trước 70 ngày (ND).
③ Xơcanh: đơn vị tiền cổ đúc bằng
vàng.
➖➖➖
The
Thousand and One Nights
ARABIAN
NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS
TRANSLATED
FROM THE ARABIC, WITH COPIOUS NOTES, BY
EDWARD
WILLIAM LANE
~
COMMENCING
WITH THE FIRST NIGHT, AND ENDING WITH PART OF THE THIRD:
Story
of the Merchant and the Jinnee
Story
of the First Sheykh and the Gazelle
Story
of the Third Sheykh and the Mule
~
THE
STORY OF THE MERCHANT AND THE JINNEE.
It
has been related to me, O happy King, said Shahrazád, that there was a certain
merchant who had great wealth, and traded extensively with surrounding
countries; and one day he mounted his horse, and journeyed to a neighbouring
country to collect what was due to him, and, the heat oppressing him, he sat
under a tree, in a garden, ① and put his hand into his
saddle-bag, ②
and ate a morsel of bread and a date which were among his provisions. Having
eaten the date, he threw aside the stone, ③ and immediately there
appeared before him an 'Efreet, of enormous height, who, holding a drawn sword
in his hand, approached him, and said, Rise, that I may kill thee, as thou hast
killed my son. The merchant asked him, How have I killed thy son? He answered,
When thou atest the date, and threwest aside the stone, it struck my son upon
the chest, ④
and, as fate had decreed against him, he instantly died. ⑤
The
merchant, on hearing these words, ⑥ exclaimed, Verily to God we belong,
and verily to Him we must return! There is no strength nor power but in God,
the High, the Great! If I killed him, I did it not intentionally, but without
knowing it; and I trust in thee that thou wilt pardon me.—The Jinnee answered,
Thy death is indispensable, as thou hast killed my son:—and so saying, he
dragged him, and threw him on the ground, and raised his arm to strike him with
the sword. The merchant, upon this, wept bitterly, and said to the Jinnee, I
commit my affair unto God, for no one can avoid what He hath decreed:—and he
continued his lamentation, repeating the following verses:—
~
Time
consists of two days; this, bright; and that, gloomy: and life, of two
moieties; this, safe; and that, fearful.
Say
to him who hath taunted us on account of misfortunes, Doth fortune oppose any
but the eminent?
Dost
thou not observe that corpses float upon the sea, while the precious pearls
remain in its furthest depths?
When
the hands of time play with us, misfortune is imparted to us by its protracted
kiss.
In
the heaven are stars that cannot be numbered; but none is eclipsed save the sun
and the moon.
How
many green and dry trees are on the earth; but none is assailed with stones
save that which beareth fruit!
Thou
thoughtest well of the days when they went well with thee, and fearedst not the
evil that destiny was bringing.
~
—When
he had finished reciting these verses, the Jinnee said to him, Spare thy words,
for thy death is unavoidable.
Then
said the merchant, Know, O 'Efreet, that I have debts to pay, and I have much
property, and children, and a wife, and I have pledges also in my possession:
let me, therefore, go back to my house, and give to every one his due, and then
I will return to thee: I bind myself by a vow and covenant that I will return
to thee, and thou shalt do what thou wilt; and God is witness of what I
say.—Upon this, the Jinnee accepted his covenant, and liberated him; granting
him a respite until the expiration of the year.
The
merchant, therefore, returned to his town, accomplished all that was upon his
mind to do, paid every one what he owed him, and informed his wife and children
of the event which had befallen him; upon hearing which, they and all his
family and women wept. He appointed a guardian over his children, and remained
with his family until the end of the year; when he took his grave-clothes under
his arm, ⑦
bade farewell to his household and neighbours, and all his relations, and went
forth, in spite of himself; his family raising cries of lamentation, and
shrieking. ⑧
He
proceeded until he arrived at the garden before mentioned; and it was the first
day of the new year; and as he sat, weeping for the calamity which he expected
soon to befall him, a sheykh, ⑨ advanced in years, approached him,
leading a gazelle with a chain attached to its neck. This sheykh saluted the
merchant, wishing him a long life, and said to him, What is the reason of thy
sitting alone in this place, seeing that it is a resort of the Jinn? The
merchant therefore informed him of what had befallen him with the 'Efreet, and
of the cause of his sitting there; at which the sheykh, the owner of the
gazelle, was astonished, and said, By Allah, O my brother, thy faithfulness is
great, and thy story is wonderful! if it were engraved upon the intellect, it would
be a lesson to him who would be admonished!—And he sat down by his side, and
said, By Allah, O my brother, I will not quit this place until I see what will
happen unto thee with this 'Efreet. So he sat down, and conversed with him. And
the merchant became almost senseless; fear entered him, and terror, and violent
grief, and excessive anxiety. And as the owner of the gazelle sat by his side,
lo, a second sheykh approached them, with two black hounds, and inquired of
them, after saluting them, the reason of their sitting in that place, seeing
that it was a resort of the Jánn: ⑩ and they told him the story from
beginning to end. And he had hardly sat down when there approached them a third
sheykh, with a dapple mule; and he asked them the same question, which was
answered in the same manner.
Immediately
after, the dust was agitated, and became an enormous revolving pillar,
approaching them from the midst of the desert; and this dust subsided, and
behold, the Jinnee, with a drawn sword in his hand; his eyes casting forth
sparks of fire. He came to them, and dragged from them the merchant, and said
to him, Rise, that I may kill thee, as thou killedst my son, the vital spirit
of my heart. And the merchant wailed and wept; and the three sheykhs also
manifested their sorrow by weeping and crying aloud and wailing: but the first
sheykh, who was the owner of the gazelle, recovering his self-possession,
kissed the hand of the 'Efreet, and said to him, O thou Jinnee, and crown of
the kings of the Jánn, if I relate to thee the story of myself and this gazelle,
and thou find it to be wonderful, and more so than the adventure of this
merchant, wilt thou give up to me a third of thy claim to his blood? He
answered, Yes, O sheykh; if thou relate to me the story, and I find it to be as
thou hast said, I will give up to thee a third of my claim to his blood.
~
THE
STORY OF THE FIRST SHEYKH AND THE GAZELLE.
Then
said the sheykh, Know, O 'Efreet, that this gazelle is the daughter of my
paternal uncle, ⑪
and she is of my flesh and my blood. I took her as my wife when she was young, ⑫
and lived with her about thirty years; but I was not blessed with a child by
her; so I took to me a concubine slave, ⑬ and by her I was blessed
with a male child, like the rising full moon, with beautiful eyes, and
delicately-shaped eyebrows, and perfectly-formed limbs; and he grew up by
little and little until he attained the age of fifteen years. At this period, I
unexpectedly had occasion to journey to a certain city, and went thither with a
great stock of merchandise.
Now
my cousin, ⑭
this gazelle, had studied enchantment and divination from her early years; and
during my absence, she transformed the youth above mentioned into a calf; and
his mother, into a cow; ⑮ and committed them to the care of the
herdsman: and when I returned, after a long time, from my journey, I asked
after my son and his mother, and she said, Thy slave is dead, and thy son hath
fled, and I know not whither he is gone. After hearing this, I remained for the
space of a year with mourning heart and weeping eye, until the Festival of the
Sacrifice; ⑯
when I sent to the herdsman, and ordered him to choose for me a fat cow; and he
brought me one, and it was my concubine, whom this gazelle had enchanted. I
tucked up my skirts and sleeves, and took the knife⑰
in my hand, and prepared myself to slaughter her; upon which she moaned and
cried so violently that I left her, and ordered the herdsman to kill and skin
her: and he did so, but found in her neither fat nor flesh, nor anything but
skin and bone; and I repented of slaughtering her, when repentance was of no
avail. I therefore gave her to the herdsman, and said to him, Bring me a fat
calf: and he brought me my son, who was transformed into a calf. And when the
calf saw me, he broke his rope, and came to me, and fawned upon me, and wailed
and cried, so that I was moved with pity for him; and I said to the herdsman,
Bring me a cow, and let this—
Here
Shahrazád perceived the light of morning, and discontinued the recitation with
which she had been allowed thus far to proceed. Her sister said to her, How
excellent is thy story! and how pretty! and how pleasant! and how sweet!—but
she answered, What is this in comparison with that which I will relate to thee
in the next night, if I live, and the King spare me! And the King said, By
Allah, I will not kill her until I hear the remainder of her story. Thus they
pleasantly passed the night until the morning, when the King went forth to his
hall of judgment, and the Wezeer went thither with the grave-clothes under his
arm: and the King gave judgment, and invested and displaced, until the close of
the day, without informing the Wezeer of that which had happened; and the
minister was greatly astonished. The court was then dissolved; and the King
returned to the privacy of his palace.
[On
the second and each succeeding night, Shahrazád continued so to interest King
Shahriyár by her stories as to induce him to defer putting her to death, in
expectation that her fund of amusing tales would soon be exhausted; and as this
is expressed in the original work in nearly the same words at the close of
every night, such repetitions will in the present translation be omitted. ⑱]
When
the sheykh, continued Shahrazád, observed the tears of the calf, his heart
sympathized with him, and he said to the herdsman, Let this calf remain with
the cattle.—Meanwhile, the Jinnee wondered at this strange story; and the owner
of the gazelle thus proceeded.
O
lord of the kings of the Jánn, while this happened, my cousin, this gazelle,
looked on, and said, Slaughter this calf; for he is fat: but I could not do it;
so I ordered the herdsman to take him back; and he took him and went away. And
as I was sitting, on the following day, he came to me, and said, O my master, I
have to tell thee something that thou wilt be rejoiced to hear; and a reward is
due to me for bringing good news. ⑲ I answered, Well:—and he said, O
merchant, I have a daughter who learned enchantment in her youth from an old
woman in our family; and yesterday, when thou gavest me the calf, I took him to
her, and she looked at him, and covered her face, and wept, and then laughed,
and said, O my father, hath my condition become so degraded in thy opinion that
thou bringest before me strange men? ⑳—Where, said I, are any strange men?
and wherefore didst thou weep and laugh? She answered, This calf that is with
thee is the son of our master, the merchant, and the wife of our master hath
enchanted both him and his mother; and this was the reason of my laughter; but
as to the reason of my weeping, it was on account of his mother, because his
father had slaughtered her.—And I was excessively astonished at this; and
scarcely was I certain that the light of morning had appeared when I hastened
to inform thee.
When
I heard, O Jinnee, the words of the herdsman, I went forth with him,
intoxicated without wine, from the excessive joy and happiness that I received,
and arrived at his house, where his daughter welcomed me, and kissed my hand;
and the calf came to me, and fawned upon me. And I said to the herdsman's
daughter, Is that true which thou hast said respecting this calf? She answered,
Yes, O my master; he is verily thy son, and the vital spirit of thy heart.—O
maiden, said I, if thou wilt restore him, all the cattle and other property of
mine that thy father hath under his care shall be thine. Upon this, she smiled,
and said, O my master, I have no desire for the property unless on two
conditions: the first is, that thou shalt marry me to him; and the second, that
I shall enchant her who enchanted him, and so restrain her; otherwise, I shall
not be secure from her artifice. On hearing, O Jinnee, these her words, I said,
And thou shalt have all the property that is under the care of thy father
besides; and as to my cousin, even her blood shall be lawful to thee. So, when
she heard this, she took a cup, and filled it with water, and repeated a spell
over it, and sprinkled with it the calf, saying to him, If God created thee a
calf, remain in this form, and be not changed; but if thou be enchanted, return
to thy original form, by permission of God, whose name be exalted!—upon which
he shook, and became a man; and I threw myself upon him, and said, I conjure
thee by Allah that thou relate to me all that my cousin did to thee and to thy
mother. So he related to me all that had happened to them both; and I said to
him, O my son, God hath given thee one to liberate thee, and to avenge
thee:—and I married to him, O Jinnee, the herdsman's daughter; after which, she
transformed my cousin into this gazelle. And as I happened to pass this way, I
saw this merchant, and asked him what had happened to him; and when he had
informed me, I sat down to see the result.—This is my story. The Jinnee said,
This is a wonderful tale; and I give up to thee a third of my claim to his
blood.
The
second sheykh, the owner of the two hounds, then advanced, and said to the
Jinnee, If I relate to thee the story of myself and these hounds, and thou find
it to be in like manner wonderful, wilt thou remit to me, also, a third of thy
claim to the blood of this merchant? The Jinnee answered, Yes.
~
THE
STORY OF THE SECOND SHEYKH AND THE TWO BLACK HOUNDS.
Then
said the sheykh, Know, O lord of the kings of the Jánn, that these two hounds
are my brothers. My father died, and left to us three thousand pieces of gold; ㉑ and I opened a shop㉒ to sell and buy. But one of my brothers
made a journey, with a stock of merchandise, and was absent from us for the
space of a year with the caravans; after which, he returned destitute. I said
to him, Did I not advise thee to abstain from travelling? But he wept, and
said, O my brother, God, to whom be ascribed all might and glory, decreed this
event; and there is no longer any profit in these words: I have nothing left.
So I took him up into the shop, and then went with him to the bath, and clad
him in a costly suit of my own clothing; after which, we sat down together to
eat; and I said to him, O my brother, I will calculate the gain of my shop
during the year, and divide it, exclusive of the principal, between me and
thee. Accordingly, I made the calculation, and found my gain to amount to two
thousand pieces of gold; and I praised God, to whom be ascribed all might and
glory, and rejoiced exceedingly, and divided the gain in two equal parts
between myself and him.—My other brother then set forth on a journey; and after
a year, returned in the like condition; and I did unto him as I had done to the
former.
After
this, when we had lived together for some time, my brothers again wished to
travel, and were desirous that I should accompany them; but I would not. What,
said I, have ye gained in your travels, that I should expect to gain? They
importuned me; but I would not comply with their request; and we remained
selling and buying in our shops a whole year. Still, however, they persevered
in proposing that we should travel, and I still refused, until after the lapse
of six entire years, when at last I consented, and said to them, O my brothers,
let us calculate what property we possess. We did so, and found it to be six
thousand pieces of gold: and I then said to them, We will bury half of it in
the earth, that it may be of service to us if any misfortune befall us, in
which case each of us shall take a thousand pieces, with which to traffic. ㉓ Excellent is thy advice, said they. So I
took the money and divided it into two equal portions, and buried three
thousand pieces of gold; and of the other half, I gave to each of them a
thousand pieces. We then prepared merchandise, and hired a ship, and embarked
our goods, and proceeded on our voyage for the space of a whole month, at the
expiration of which we arrived at a city, where we sold our merchandise; and
for every piece of gold we gained ten.
And
when we were about to set sail again, we found, on the shore of the sea, a
maiden clad in tattered garments, who kissed my hand, and said to me, O my
master, art thou possessed of charity and kindness? If so, I will requite thee
for them. I answered, Yes, I have those qualities, though thou requite me not.
Then said she, O my master, accept me as thy wife, and take me to thy country;
for I give myself to thee: ㉔
act kindly towards me; for I am one who requires to be treated with kindness
and charity, and who will requite thee for so doing; and let not my present
condition at all deceive thee. When I heard these words, my heart was moved
with tenderness towards her, in order to the accomplishment of a purpose of
God, to whom be ascribed all might and glory; and I took her, and clothed her,
and furnished for her a place in the ship in a handsome manner, and regarded
her with kind and respectful attention.
We
then set sail; and I became most cordially attached to my wife, so that, on her
account, I neglected the society of my brothers, who, in consequence, became
jealous of me, and likewise envied me my wealth, and the abundance of my
merchandise; casting the eyes of covetousness upon the whole of the property.
They therefore consulted together to kill me, and take my wealth; saying, Let
us kill our brother, and all the property shall be ours:—and the devil made
these actions to seem fair in their eyes; so they came to me while I was
sleeping by the side of my wife, and took both of us up, and threw us into the
sea. But as soon as my wife awoke, she shook herself, and became transformed
into a Jinneeyeh. ㉕
She immediately bore me away, and placed me upon an island, and, for a while,
disappeared. In the morning, however, she returned, and said to me, I am thy
wife, who carried thee, and rescued thee from death, by permission of God,
whose name be exalted. Know that I am a Jinneeyeh: I saw thee, and my heart
loved thee for the sake of God; for I am a believer in God and his Apostle, God
bless and save him! ㉖
I came to thee in the condition in which thou sawest me, and thou didst marry
me; and see, I have rescued thee from drowning. But I am incensed against thy
brothers, and I must kill them.—When I heard her tale, I was astonished, and
thanked her for what she had done;—But, said I, as to the destruction of my
brothers, it is not what I desire. I then related to her all that had happened
between myself and them from first to last; and when she had heard it, she
said, I will, this next night, fly to them, and sink their ship, and destroy
them. But I said, I conjure thee by Allah that thou do it not; for the author
of the proverb saith, O thou benefactor of him who hath done evil, the action
that he hath done is sufficient for him:
㉗—besides, they are at all events my brothers. She
still, however, said, They must be killed;—and I continued to propitiate her
towards them: and at last she lifted me up, and soared through the air, and
placed me on the roof of my house. ㉘
Having
opened the doors, I dug up what I had hidden in the earth; and after I had
saluted my neighbours, and bought merchandise, I opened my shop. And in the
following night, when I entered my house, I found these two dogs tied up in it;
and as soon as they saw me, they came to me, and wept, and clung to me; but I
knew not what had happened until immediately my wife appeared before me, and
said, These are thy brothers. And who, said I, hath done this unto them? She
answered, I sent to my sister and she did it; and they shall not be restored
until after the lapse of ten years. And I was now on my way to her, that she
might restore them, as they have been in this state ten years, when I saw this
man, and, being informed of what had befallen him, I determined not to quit the
place until I should have seen what would happen between thee and him.—This is
my story.—Verily, said the Jinnee, it is a wonderful tale; and I give up to
thee a third of the claim that I had to his blood on account of his offence.
Upon
this, the third sheykh, the owner of the mule, said to the Jinnee, ㉙ As to me, break not my heart if I relate
to thee nothing more than this:—
~
THE
STORY OF THE THIRD SHEYKH AND THE MULE.
The
mule that thou seest was my wife: she became enamoured of a black slave; and
when I discovered her with him, she took a mug of water, and, having uttered a
spell over it, sprinkled me, and transformed me into a dog. In this state, I
ran to the shop of a butcher, whose daughter saw me, and, being skilled in
enchantment, restored me to my original form, and instructed me to enchant my
wife in the manner thou beholdest.—And now I hope that thou wilt remit to me
also a third of the merchant's offence. Divinely was he gifted who said,
Sow
good, even on an unworthy soil; for it will not be lost wherever it is sown.
When
the sheykh had thus finished his story, the Jinnee shook with delight, and
remitted the remaining third of his claim to the merchant's blood. The merchant
then approached the sheykhs, and thanked them, and they congratulated him on
his safety; and each went his way.
~
But
this, said Shahrazád, is not more wonderful than the story of the fisherman.
The King asked her, And what is the story of the fisherman? And she related it
as follows:—
---------------
NOTES
TO CHAPTER FIRST.
Note
①.
The words "in a garden" are omitted in my original; but they are
required by the sequel. I may here remark, that, in future, when I find
trifling insertions of this kind to be requisite in my translation, I shall not
deem it necessary to mention them in a note.
Note
②.
An Eastern traveller often makes a long journey with no other encumbrance than
a well-filled pair of saddle-bags: in one bag he puts his provisions; and in
the other, such articles of clothing as he may require in addition to those in
which he sets out, including a spare shirt, and perhaps no other clean linen:
for he is as indifferent with regard to this comfort as he is careful
respecting his personal cleanliness.
Note
③.
Perhaps no reader of this work will require to be told that the date has not a
shell. I only make this remark on account of an error in the old
translation.—As dates are very nutritious, and are preserved by being merely
dried in the sun, they are an excellent article of provision for travellers.
Note
④.
The merchant was culpably careless: before throwing aside the date-stone with
sufficient force to kill a Jinnee who happened to be near him (though at the
time invisible), he should have asked permission by the exclamation
"Destoor!" as explained in a note appended to the Introduction.
Note
⑤.
—On Fate and Destiny. The belief in fate and destiny ("el-ḳaḍà
wa-l-ḳadar") exercises a most powerful influence upon the actions and
character of the Muslims; and it is therefore highly important that the reader
of the present work should be acquainted with the notions which these people
entertain respecting such matters of faith. I use two words (perhaps the best
that our language affords) to express corresponding Arabic terms, which some
persons regard as synonymous, but others distinguish by different shades of
meaning. On what I consider the best authority, the word which I render
"fate" respects the decrees of God in a general sense; while that
which I translate "destiny" relates to the particular applications of
those decrees. In such senses these terms are here to be understood when
separately employed.
Many
Muslims hold that fate is, in some respects, absolute and unchangeable; in
others, admitting of alteration; and almost all of them act, in many of the
affairs of life, as if this were their belief. In the former case, it is called
"el-ḳaḍà el-Moḥkam:" in the latter, "el-ḳaḍà el-Mubram"
(which term, without the explanation here given, might be regarded as exactly
synonymous with the former). Hence, the Prophet, it is said, prayed to be
preserved from the latter, as knowing that it might be changed; and in allusion
to this changeable fate, God, we are told, says, "God will cancel what He
pleaseth, and confirm;" while, on the contrary, the fate which is termed
"Moḥkam" is appointed "destiny" decreed by God.
Many
doctors have argued, that destiny respects only the final state of a certain
portion of men (believers and unbelievers); and that, in general, man is
endowed with free will, which he should exercise according to the laws of God
and his own conscience and judgment, praying to God for a blessing on his
endeavours, or imploring the intercession of the Prophet, or of any of the
saints, in his favour, and propitiating them by offering alms or sacrifices in
their names; relying upon God for the result, which he may then, and then only,
attribute to fate or destiny. They hold, therefore, that it is criminal to
attempt resistance to the will when its dictates are conformable with the laws
of God and our natural consciences and prudence, and so passively to await the
fulfilment of God's decrees.—The doctrine of the Ḳur-án and the Traditions
respecting the decrees of God, or fate and destiny, appears, however, to be,
that they are altogether absolute and unchangeable,—written, in the beginning
of the creation, on the "Preserved Tablet," in heaven; that God hath
predestined every event and action, evil as well as good; at the same time
commanding and approving good, and forbidding and hating evil; and that the
"cancelling" mentioned in the preceding paragraph relates (as the
context seems to shew) to the abrogation of former scriptures, or revelations;
not of fate. But still it must be held that He hath not predestined the will;
though He sometimes inclines it to good, and the Devil sometimes inclines it to
evil. It is asked, then, If we have the power to will, but not the power to
perform otherwise than as God hath predetermined, how can we be regarded as
responsible beings? The answer to this is, that our actions are judged good or
evil according to our intentions, if we have faith: good actions or intentions,
it should be added, only increase, and do not cause, our happiness, if we are
believers; and evil actions or intentions only increase our misery if we are
unbelievers or irreligious: for the Muslim holds that he is to be admitted into
heaven only by the mercy of God, on account of his faith; and to be rewarded in
proportion to his good works.
The
Prophet's assertions on the subject of God's decrees are considered of the
highest importance as explanatory of the Ḳur-án.—"Whatever is in the
universe," said he, "is by the order of God."—"God hath
pre-ordained five things on his servants; the duration of life, their actions,
their dwelling-places, their travels, and their portions."—"There is
not one among you whose sitting-place is not written by God, whether in the
fire or in paradise."—Some of the Companions of the Prophet, on hearing
the last-quoted saying, asked him, "O Prophet, since God hath appointed
our places, may we confide in this, and abandon our religious and moral
duties?" He answered, "No: because the happy will do good works, and
those who are of the miserable will do bad works."—The following of his
sayings further illustrate this subject.—"When God hath ordered a creature
to die in any particular place, He causeth his wants to direct him to that
place."—A Companion asked, "O Prophet of God, inform me respecting
charms, and the medicines which I swallow, and shields which I make use of for
protection, whether they prevent any of the orders of God." Moḥammad
answered, "These also are by the order of God." "There is a
medicine for every pain: then, when the medicine reaches the pain, it is cured
by the order of God."—When a Muslim, therefore, feels an inclination to
make use of medicine for the cure of a disease, he should do so, in the hope of
its being predestined that he shall be so cured.
On
the predestination of diseases, I find the following curious quotation and
remark in a manuscript work, by Es-Suyooṭee, in my possession.—"El-Ḥaleemee
says, 'Communicable or contagious diseases are six: small-pox, measles, itch or
scab, foul breath or putridity, melancholy, and pestilential maladies; and
diseases engendered are also six: leprosy, hectic, epilepsy, gout,
elephantiasis, and phthisis.' But this does not contradict the saying of the
Prophet, 'There is no transition of diseases by contagion or infection, nor any
omen that brings evil:' for the transition here meant is one occasioned by the
disease itself; whereas the effect is of God, who causes pestilence to spread
when there is intercourse with the diseased."—A Bedawee asked the Prophet,
"What is the condition of camels which stay in the deserts? verily, you
might say, they are deer, in health and in cleanness of skin; then they mix
with mangy camels, and they become mangy also." Moḥammad said, "What
made the first camel mangy?"
Notwithstanding,
however, the arguments which have been here adduced, and many others that might
be added, declaring or implying the unchangeable nature of all God's decrees, I
have found it to be the opinion of my own Muslim friends, that God may be induced,
by supplication, to change certain of his decrees; at least, those regarding
degrees of happiness or misery in this world and the next; and that such is the
general opinion, appears from a form of prayer which is repeated in the mosques
on the eve of the middle (or fifteenth day) of the month of Shaạbán; when it is
believed that such portions of God's decrees as constitute the destinies of all
living creatures for the ensuing year, are confirmed and fixed. In this prayer
it is said, "O God, if Thou hast recorded me in thine abode, upon 'the Original
of the Book' [the Preserved Tablet], miserable, or unfortunate, or scanted in
my sustenance, cancel, O God, of thy goodness, my misery, and misfortune, and
scanty allowance of sustenance, and confirm me, in thine abode, upon the
Original of the Book, as happy, and provided for, and directed to good,"
&c.
The
Arabs in general constantly have recourse both to charms and medicines, not
only for the cure, but also for the prevention of diseases. They have, indeed,
a strange passion for medicine, which shows that they do not consider fate as
altogether unconditional. Nothing can exceed the earnestness with which they
often press a European traveller for a dose; and the more violent the remedy,
the better are they pleased. The following case will serve as an example:—Three
donkey-drivers, conveying the luggage of two British travellers from Booláḳ to
Cairo, opened a bottle which they observed in a basket, and finding it to
contain, as they had suspected, brandy, emptied it down their throats: but he
who had the last, on turning up the bottle, got the tail of a scorpion into his
mouth; and, looking through the bottle, to his great horror, saw that it
contained a number of these reptiles, with tarantulas, vipers, and beetles.
Thinking that they had poisoned themselves, but not liking to rely upon fate,
they persuaded a man to come to me for medicine. He introduced the subject by
saying, "O Efendee, do an act of kindness: there are three men poisoned;
in your mercy give them medicine, and save their lives:" and then he
related the whole affair, without concealing the theft. I replied, that they
did not deserve medicine; but he urged that, by giving it, I should obtain an
immense reward. "Yes," said I; "'he who saveth a soul alive
shall be as if he had saved the lives of all mankind.'" I said this to try
the feeling of the applicant, who, expressing admiration of my knowledge, urged
me to be quick, lest the men should die; thus showing himself to be no
unconditional fatalist. I gave him three strong doses of tartar emetic; and he
soon came back to thank me, saying that the medicine was most admirable, for
the men had hardly swallowed it, when they almost vomited their hearts and
livers, and everything else in their bodies.
From
a distrust in faith, some Muslims even shut themselves up during the prevalence
of plague; but this practice is generally condemned. A Syrian friend of mine,
who did so, nearly had his door broken open by his neighbours. Another of my
friends, one of the most distinguished of the 'Ulamà, confessed to me his
conviction of the lawfulness of quarantine, and argued well in favour of it;
but said that he dared not openly avow such an opinion. "The Apostle of
God," said he, "God bless and save him! hath commanded that we should
not enter a city where there is pestilence, nor go out from it. Why did he say,
'Enter it not?'—because, by so doing, we should expose ourselves to the
disease. Why did he say, 'Go not out from it?'—because, by so doing, we should
carry the disease to others. The Prophet was tenderly considerate of our
welfare: but the present Muslims in general are like bulls [brute beasts]; and
they hold the meaning of this command to be, Go not into a city where there is
pestilence, because this would be rashness; and go not out from it, because
this would be distrusting God's power to save you from it."
Many
of the vulgar and ignorant among modern Muslims, believe that the unchangeable
destinies of every man are written upon his head, in what are termed the
sutures of the skull.
Note
⑥.
The paragraph thus commencing, and the verses comprised in it, are translated
from the Calcutta edition of the first two hundred nights.
Note
⑦.
It is a common custom for a Muslim, on a military expedition, or during a long
journey, especially in the desert, to carry his grave-linen with him; for he is
extremely careful that he may be buried according to the law. It seems to be
implied in our tale, that the merchant hoped that the Jinnee, or some passing
traveller, would wash, shroud, and bury him.
Note
⑧.
It is thus that the Arab women generally do on the occasion of a funeral.
Note
⑨.
—On the title of Sheykh. "Sheykh" is an appellation which
literally signifies "an elder," or "an aged person," and in
this sense it is here used; but it is also commonly employed as synonymous with
our appellation of "Mister;" and particularly applied to a learned
man, or a reputed saint. In every case, it is a title of respect, and never
given to any but a Muslim.
Note
⑩.
"Jánn" is here used as synonymous with "Jinn."
Note
⑪.
A cousin (the daughter of a paternal uncle) is often chosen as a wife, on
account of the tie of blood, which is likely to attach her more strongly to her
husband; or on account of an affection conceived in early years. The various
customs relating to marriage, I shall describe on a future occasion.
Note
⑫.
A bride is called young, by the Arabs, when she is about twelve years of age.
In the Calcutta edition of the first two hundred nights, the wife in this tale
is said to have been of this age when she was first married.
Note
⑬.
—On Slaves. A slave, among Muslims, is either a person taken captive in
war, or carried off by force, and being at the time of capture an infidel; or
the offspring of a female slave by another slave, or by any man who is not her
owner, or by her owner, if he does not acknowledge himself to be the father:
but the offspring of a male slave by a free woman is free. A person who
embraces the Mohammadan faith after having been made a slave, does not by this
act become free, unless he flees from a foreign infidel master to a Muslim
country, and there becomes a Mohammadan. A person cannot have as a slave one
whom he acknowledges to be within the prohibited degrees of marriage.—The
slaves of the Arabs are mostly from Abyssinia and the Negro countries: a few,
mostly in the houses of wealthy individuals, are from Georgia and Circassia.
Slaves
have no civil liberty; but are entirely under the authority of their owners,
whatever may be the religion, sex, or age, of the latter; and can possess no
property, unless by the owner's permission. The owner is entire master, while
he pleases, of the person and goods of his slave; and of the offspring of his
female slave, which, if begotten by him or presumed to be so, he may recognise
as his own legitimate child, or not: the child, if recognised by him, enjoys
the same privileges as the offspring of a free wife; and if not recognised by
him, is his slave. The master may even kill his own slave with impunity for any
offence; and he incurs but a slight punishment (as imprisonment for a period at
the discretion of the judge) if he kills him wantonly. He may give away or sell
his slaves, excepting in some cases which will be mentioned; and may marry them
to whom he will, but not separate them when married. A slave, however,
according to most of the doctors, cannot have more than two wives at the same time.
Unemancipated slaves, at the death of their master, become the property of his
heirs; and when an emancipated slave dies, leaving no male descendants or
collateral relations, the former master is the heir; or, if he be dead, his
heirs inherit the slave's property. As a slave enjoys less advantages than a
free person, the law, in some cases, ordains that his punishment for an offence
shall be half of that to which the free is liable to the same offence, or even
less than half: if it be a fine, or pecuniary compensation, it must be paid by
the owner, to the amount, if necessary, of the value of the slave, or the slave
must be given in compensation.
The
owner, but not the part-owner, may cohabit with any of his female slaves who is
a Mohammadan, a Christian, or a Jewess, if he has not married her to another
man; but not with two or more who are sisters, or who are related to each other
in any of the degrees which would prevent their both being his wives at the
same time if they were free: after having so lived with one, he must entirely
relinquish such intercourse with her before he can do the same with another who
is so related to her. He cannot have this intercourse with a pagan slave. A
Christian or Jew may have slaves, but not enjoy the privilege above mentioned
with one who is a Mohammadan. The master must wait a certain period (generally
from a month to three months) after the acquisition of a female slave, before
he can have such intercourse with her. If he find any fault in her within three
days, he is usually allowed to return her.
When
a man, from being the husband, becomes the master, of a slave, the marriage is
dissolved, and he cannot continue to live with her but as her master, enjoying,
however, all a master's privileges; unless he emancipates her; in which case he
may again take her as his wife with her consent. In like manner, when a woman,
from being the wife, becomes the possessor, of a slave, the marriage is
dissolved, and cannot be renewed unless she emancipates him, and he consents to
the re-union.
Complete
and immediate emancipation is sometimes granted to a slave gratuitously, or for
a future pecuniary compensation. It is conferred by means of a written
document, or by a verbal declaration (expressed in the words, "Thou art
free," or some similar phrase) in the presence of two witnesses, or by
returning the certificate of sale obtained from the former owner. Future
emancipation is sometimes covenanted to be granted on the fulfilment of certain
conditions; and more frequently, to be conferred on the occasion of the owner's
death. In the latter case, the owner cannot sell the slave to whom he has made
this promise: and, as he cannot alienate by will more than one-third of the
whole property that he leaves, the law ordains that, if the value of the said
slave exceeds that portion, the slave must obtain and pay the additional sum.
When a female slave has borne a child to her master, and he acknowledges the
child to be his own, he cannot sell this slave, and she becomes free on his
death.
Abyssinian
and white female slaves are kept by many men of the middle and higher classes,
and often instead of wives, as requiring less expense, and being more
subservient; but they are generally indulged with the same luxuries as free
ladies; their vanity is gratified by costly dresses and ornaments, and they
rank high above free servants; as do also the male slaves. Those called
Abyssinians appear to be a mixed race between negroes and whites; and are from
the territories of the Gallas. They are mostly kidnapped and sold by their own
countrymen. The negro female slaves, as few of them have considerable personal
attractions (which is not the case with the Abyssinians, many of whom are very
beautiful), are usually employed only in cooking, and other menial offices. The
female slaves of the higher classes are often instructed in plain needlework
and embroidery, and sometimes in music and dancing. Formerly, many of them
possessed sufficient literary accomplishments to quote largely from esteemed
poems, or even to compose extemporary verses, which they would often accompany
with the lute. The condition of many concubine slaves is happy; and that of
many, quite the contrary. These, and all other slaves of either sex, are
generally treated with kindness; but at first they are usually importuned, and
not unfrequently used with much harshness, to induce them to embrace the
Mohammadan faith; which almost all of them do. Their services are commonly
light: the usual office of the male white slave, who is called "memlook,"
is that of a page, or a military guard. Eunuchs are employed as guardians of
the women; but only in the houses of men of high rank, or of great wealth: on
account of the important and confidential office which they fill, they are
generally treated in public with especial consideration. I used to remark, in
Cairo, that few persons saluted me with a more dignified and consequential air
than these pitiable but self-conceited beings. Most of them are Abyssinians or
Negroes. Indeed, the slaves in general take too much advantage of the
countenance of their masters, especially when they belong to men in power. The
master is bound to afford his slaves proper food and clothing, or to let them
work for their own support, or to sell, give away, or liberate them. It is,
however, considered disgraceful for him to sell a slave who has been long in
his possession; and it seldom happens that a master emancipates a female slave,
without marrying her to some man able to support her, or otherwise providing
for her.
The
Prophet strongly enjoined the duty of kindness to slaves. "Feed your
memlooks," said he, "with food of that which ye eat, and clothe them
with such clothing as ye wear; and command them not to do that which they are
unable."—These precepts are generally attended to, either entirely or in a
great degree. Some other sayings of the Prophet on this subject well deserve to
be mentioned; as the following:—"He who beats his slave without fault, or
slaps him on the face, his atonement for this is freeing him."—"A man
who behaves ill to his slave will not enter into paradise."—"Whoever
is the cause of separation between mother and child, by selling or giving, God
will separate him from his friends on the day of resurrection."—"When
a slave wishes well to his master, and worships God well, for him are double
rewards."—It is related of 'Othmán, "that he twisted the ear of a
memlook belonging to him, on account of disobedience, and afterwards, repenting
of it, ordered him to twist his ear in like manner: but he would not. 'Othmán
urged him, and the memlook advanced, and began to wring it by little and
little. He said to him, 'Wring it hard; for I cannot endure the punishment of
the day of judgment [on account of this act].' The memlook answered, 'O my
master, the day that thou fearest, I also fear.'"—"It is related also
of Zeyn-el-'Ábideen, that he had a memlook who seized a sheep, and broke its
leg; and he said to him, 'Why didst thou this?' He answered, 'To provoke thee
to anger.' 'And I,' said he, 'will provoke to anger him who taught thee; and he
is Iblees: go, and be free, for the sake of God.'"—Many similar anecdotes
might be added; but the general assertions of travellers in the East are more
satisfactory evidence in favour of the humane conduct of most Muslims to their
slaves.
It
sometimes happens, though rarely, that free girls are sold as slaves. A
remarkable instance is related in the "Mir-át ez-Zemán."—Fáṭimeh,
surnamed Ghareeb, a slave of the Khaleefeh El-Moạtaṣim, the son of Hároon, was
a poetess, accomplished in singing and calligraphy, and extremely beautiful.
Her mother was an orphan; and Jaạfar, the famous Wezeer of Hároon Er-Rasheed,
took her as his wife; but his father, Yaḥyà, reproached him for marrying a
woman whose father and mother were unknown, and he therefore removed her from
his own residence to a neighbouring house, where he frequently visited her; and
she bore him a daughter, the above-mentioned Ghareeb, and died. Jaạfar
committed her infant to the care of a Christian woman, to nurse; and, on the
overthrow of his family, this woman sold her young charge as a slave. El-Emeen,
the successor of Er-Rasheed, bought her of a man named Sumbul, but never paid
her price; and when he was killed, she returned to her former master; but on
the arrival of El-Ma-moon at Baghdád, she was described to him, and he
compelled Sumbul to sell her to him. This Sumbul loved her so passionately,
that he died of grief at her loss. On the death of El-Ma-moon, his successor,
El-Moạtaṣim, bought her for a hundred thousand dirhems, and emancipated her.
The historian adds, that she composed several well-known airs and verses.
Note
⑭.
An Arab who is married to his cousin generally calls her by this appellation
rather than that of wife, as the tie of blood is, to him, in every respect,
stronger than that of matrimony.
Note
⑮.
—On Magic. The Arabs and other Mohammadans enjoy a remarkable advantage
over us in the composition of works of fiction: in the invention of incidents
which we should regard as absurd in the extreme, they cannot be accused by
their countrymen of exceeding the bounds of probability. A case similar to that
here described was related to me as a fact, in Cairo. A person in that city, I
was told, was suddenly surprised by the disappearance of his brother, and by
finding, in his place, an ass: but this animal increased his astonishment, and
that of every person who beheld him, by manifesting a sagacity singularly
opposed to the proverbial dulness of the generality of his species. Yet,
strange as it may seem, it was not imagined that this brute was the lost man in
a transformed state, till, one day, an old woman, seeing him, quickly covered
her face, and declared the fact. She discovered this by her knowledge of magic;
and, by her skill in this art, she agreed to restore the enchanted person to
his proper shape. Having collected a number of herbs, she boiled them in a
large vessel; and when the decoction had cooled, she took the vessel, and,
muttering a certain spell, threw its contents over the animal, endeavouring to
do so in such a manner that every part of it should be wetted. Every part of it
was wetted, excepting one hind-foot; and, accordingly, it was restored to the
original human form, with the exception of one foot, which remained like that
of an ass.
An
implicit belief in magic is entertained by almost all Muslims; and he, among
them, who denies its truth, they regard as a freethinker, or an infidel. Some
are of opinion that it ceased on the mission of Moḥammad; but these are
comparatively few. Many of the most learned Muslims, to the present age, have
deeply studied it; and a much greater number of persons of inferior education
(particularly school-masters) have, more or less, devoted their time and talents
to the pursuit of this knowledge. Recourse is had to it for the discovery of
hidden treasures, for alchymical purposes, for the acquisition of the knowledge
of futurity, to procure offspring, to obtain the affection of a beloved object,
to effect cures, to guard against the influence of the evil eye, to afflict or
kill an enemy or a rival, and to attain various other objects of desire.
There
are two descriptions of magic; one is spiritual, and regarded by all but
freethinkers as true; the other, natural, and denounced by the more religious
and enlightened as deceptive.
I.
Spiritual magic, which is termed "er-Rooḥánee" (vulgo "Rowḥánee"),
chiefly depends upon the virtues of certain names of God, and passages from the
Ḳur-án, and the agency of Angels and Jinn, or Genii. It is of two kinds: High
and Low ("'Ilwee" and "Suflee"), or Divine and Satanic
("Raḥmánee," i. e. relating to "the Compassionate" [who is
God], and "Sheyṭánee").
1.
Divine magic is regarded as a sublime science, and is studied only by good men,
and practised only for good purposes. Perfection in this branch of magic
consists in the knowledge of "the most great name" of God
("el-Ism el Aạẓam"); but this knowledge is imparted to none but the
peculiar favourites of Heaven. By virtue of this name, which was engraved on
his seal-ring, Suleymán (or Solomon) subjected to his dominion the Jinn and the
birds and the winds, as mentioned in a former note. By pronouncing it, his
minister Áṣaf, also, transported, in an instant, to the presence of his
sovereign, in Jerusalem, the throne of the Queen of Sheba. But this was a small
miracle to effect by such means; for, by uttering this name, a man may even
raise the dead. Other names of the Deity, commonly known, are believed to have
particular efficacies when uttered or written; as also are the names of the
Prophet; and Angels and good Jinn are said to be rendered subservient to the
purposes of divine magic by means of certain invocations. Of such names and
invocations, together with words unintelligible to the uninitiated in this
science, passages from the Ḳur-án, mysterious combinations of numbers, and
peculiar diagrams and figures, are chiefly composed written charms employed for
good purposes. Enchantment, when used for benevolent purposes, is regarded by
the vulgar as a branch of lawful or divine magic; but not so by the learned;
and the same remark applies to the science of divination.
2.
Satanic magic, as its name implies, is a science depending on the agency of the
Devil and the inferior evil Jinn, whose services are obtained by means similar
to those which propitiate, or render subservient, the good Jinn. It is
condemned by the Prophet and all good Muslims, and only practised for bad
purposes.—Enchantment, which is termed "es-Seḥr," is almost
universally acknowledged to be a branch of satanic magic; but some few persons
assert (agreeably with several tales in this work), that it may be, and by some
has been, studied with good intentions, and practised by the aid of good Jinn;
consequently, that there is such a science as good enchantment, which is to be
regarded as a branch of divine or lawful magic. The metamorphoses are said to
be generally effected by means of spells, or invocations to Jinn, accompanied
by the sprinkling of water or dust, &c., on the object to be transformed.
Persons are said to be enchanted in various ways: some, paralyzed, or even
deprived of life; others, affected with irresistible passion for certain
objects; others, again, rendered demoniacs; and some, transformed into brutes,
birds, &c. The evil eye is believed to enchant in a very powerful and
distressing manner. This was acknowledged even by the Prophet. Diseases and
death are often attributed to its influence. Amulets, which are mostly written
charms, of the kind above described, are worn by many Muslims with the view of
counteracting, or preserving from, enchantment; and for the same purpose, many
ridiculous ceremonies are practised.—Divination, which is termed
"el-Kiháneh," is pronounced, on the highest authority, to be a branch
of satanic magic; though not believed to be so by all Muslims. According to an
assertion of the Prophet, what a fortune-teller says may sometimes be true;
because one of the Jinn steals away the truth, and carries it to the magician's
ear: for the Angels come down to the region next the earth (the lowest heaven),
and mention the works that have been pre-ordained in heaven; and the Devils (or
evil Jinn) listen to what the Angels say, and hear the orders predestined in
heaven, and carry them to the fortune-tellers. It is on such occasions that
shooting-stars are hurled at the Devils. It is said that "the diviner
obtains the services of the Sheyṭán by magic arts, and by names [invoked], and
by the burning of perfumes, and he informs him of secret things: for the
Devils, before the mission of the Apostle of God," it is added, "used
to ascend to heaven, and hear words by stealth." That the evil Jinn are
believed still to ascend sufficiently near to the lowest heaven to hear the
conversation of the Angels, and so to assist magicians, appears from the former
quotation, and is asserted by all Muslims. The discovery of hidden treasures,
before alluded to, is one of the objects for which divination is most
studied.—The mode of divination called "Ḍarb el-Mendel" is by some
supposed to be effected by the aid of evil Jinn; but the more enlightened of
the Muslims regard it as a branch of natural magic. Some curious performances
of this kind, by means of a fluid mirror of ink, have been described in my
"Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians," and in
No. 117 of the "Quarterly Review."
There
are certain modes of divination which cannot properly be classed under the head
of spiritual magic, but require a place between the account of this science and
that of natural magic.—The most important of these branches of Kiháneh is
Astrology, which is called "'Ilm en-Nujoom." This is studied by many
Muslims in the present day; and its professors are often employed by the Arabs
to determine a fortunate period for laying the foundation of a building,
commencing a journey, &c.; but more frequently by the Persians and Turks.
The Prophet pronounced astrology to be a branch of magic.—Another branch of
Kiháneh is Geomancy, called "Ḍarb er-Raml;" a mode of divination from
certain marks made on sand (whence its appellation), or on paper; and said to
be chiefly founded on astrology.—The science called "ez-Zijr," or
"el-'Eyáfeh," is a third branch of Kiháneh; being divination or
auguration chiefly from the motions and positions, or postures, of birds, or of
gazelles and other beasts of the chase. Thus, what was termed a "Sáneḥ,"
that is, such an animal standing or passing with its right side towards the
spectator, was esteemed among the Arabs as of good omen; and a "Báreḥ,"
or an animal of this kind with its left side towards the spectator, was held as
inauspicious.—"El-Ḳiyáfeh," under which term are included Chiromancy
and its kindred sciences, is a fourth branch of
Kiháneh.—"Et·Tefá-ul," or the taking an omen, particularly a good
one, from a name or words accidentally heard or seen, or chosen from a book,
belongs to the same science. The taking a "fál," or omen, from the Ḳur-án
is generally held to be lawful.—Various trifling events are considered as
ominous. For instance, a Sulṭán quitting his palace with his troops, a standard
happened to strike a "thureiyà" (a cluster of lamps, so called from
resembling the Pleiades), and broke them: he drew from this an evil omen, and
would have relinquished the expedition; but one of his chief officers said to
him, "O our lord, thy standards have reached the Pleiades;"—and, being
relieved by this remark, he proceeded, and returned victorious.—The
interpretation of dreams, "Taạbeer el-Menámát," must also be classed
among the branches of this science. According to the Prophet, it is the only
branch of divination worthy of dependance. "Good dreams," said he,
"are one of the parts of prophecy," and "nothing else of
prophecy remains." "Good dreams are from God; and false dreams, from
the Devil." "When any one of you has a bad dream, spit three times
over your left shoulder, and seek protection with God from the Devil thrice;
and turn from the side on which the dream was, to the other." This rule is
observed by many Muslims. Dreams are generally so fully relied upon by them as
to be sometimes the means of deciding contested points in history and science.
The sight, in a dream, of anything green or white, or of water, is considered
auspicious; anything black or red, or fire, inauspicious.—The distinction of
fortunate and unfortunate days should also here be mentioned. Thursday and
Friday, especially the latter, are considered fortunate; Monday and Wednesday,
doubtful; Sunday, Tuesday, and Saturday, especially the last, unfortunate. It
is said that there are seven evil days in every [lunar] month; namely, the
third, on which Ḳábeel (or Cain) killed Hábeel (Abel); the fifth, on which God
cast down Adam from paradise, and afflicted the people of Yoonus (Jonas), and
on which Yoosuf (or Joseph) was cast into the well; the thirteenth, on which
God took away the wealth of Eiyoob (or Job), and afflicted him, and took away
the kingdom from Suleymán (or Solomon), and on which the Jews killed the
prophets; the sixteenth, on which God exterminated and buried the people of Looṭ
(or Lot), and transformed three hundred Christians into swine, and Jews into
apes, and on which the Jews sawed asunder Zekereeyà (or Zachariah); the
twenty-first, on which Pharaoh was born, and on which he was drowned, and on
which his nation was afflicted with the plagues; the twenty-fourth, on which
Numrood (or Nimrod) killed seventy women, and cast El-Khaleel (or Abraham) into
the fire, and on which was slaughtered the camel of Ṣáleḥ; and the
twenty-fifth, on which the suffocating wind was sent upon the people of Hood.
II.
Natural magic, which is called "es-Seemiyà," is regarded by most
persons of the more enlightened classes of Muslims as altogether a deceptive
art, no more worthy of respect than legerdemain; but it seems to be nearly
allied to enchantment; for it is said to effect, in appearance, the most
wonderful transformations, and to cause the most extraordinary visions;
affecting the senses and imagination in a manner similar to opium. This and
other drugs are supposed, by some persons, to be the chief means by which such
illusions are caused; and perfumes, which are generally burnt in these
performances, may operate in a similar manner. As such things are employed in
performances of the kind called "Ḍarb el-Mendel," before mentioned,
these feats are regarded by many as effected by natural magic, notwithstanding
what has been said above respecting the services of evil Jinn being procured by
means of perfumes.—Alchymy ("el-Keemiyà") is a branch of natural
magic. It is studied by many Muslims of the present day, and by some of
considerable talents and attainments.
The
most celebrated of the magicians who have gained notoriety in Egypt during the
course of the last hundred years, was the sheykh Aḥmad Ṣádoomeh, who flourished
somewhat more than sixty years ago—I write in 1837. Several persons of Cairo,
men of intelligence and of good education, have related to me various most
marvellous stories of his performances, on the authority of eye-witnesses whom
they considered veracious; but a more credible account of this magician I have
found in the work of an excellent historian of Modern Egypt. This author
mentions the sheykh Ṣádoomeh as an aged man, of venerable appearance, who
derived his origin from the town of Semennood, in the Delta, and who acquired a
very great and extensive celebrity for his attainments in spiritual and natural
magic, and for holding converse, face to face, with Jinn, and causing them to
appear to other persons, even to the blind, as men acquainted with him informed
the historian. His contemporaries, says this writer, entertained various
opinions respecting him; but, among them, a famous grammarian and general
scholar, the sheykh Ḥasan El-Kafráwee, regarded him as a first-rate saint, who
performed evident miracles; this learned man pronouncing as such the effects of
"his legerdemain and natural magic." His fame he describes as having
increased until he was induced to try an unlucky experiment. A Memlook chief,
Yoosuf Bey, saw some magic characters written on the body of one of his female
slaves, and, exasperated by jealousy, commanded her, with a threat of instant
death, to tell him who had done this. She confessed that a woman had taken her
to the sheykh Ṣádoomeh, and that he had written this charm to attract to her
the Bey's love. Upon hearing this, he instantly sent some attendants to seize
the magician, and to put him to death, and throw him into the Nile; which was
done. But the manner in which the seizure was made, as related to me by one of
my friends, deserves to be mentioned. Several persons, one after another,
endeavoured to lay hold upon him; but every arm that was stretched forth for
this purpose was instantly paralyzed, through a spell muttered by the magician;
until a man behind him thrust a gag into his mouth, and so stopped his
enchantments.
Of
the stories related to me of Ṣádoomeh's miracles, the following will serve as a
specimen:—In order to give one of his friends a treat, he took him to the
distance of about half an hour's walk into the desert on the north of Cairo;
here they both sat down, upon the pebbly and sandy plain, and, the magician
having uttered a spell, they suddenly found themselves in the midst of a
garden, like one of the gardens of paradise, abounding with flowers and
fruit-trees of every kind, springing up from a soil clothed with verdure
brilliant as the emerald, and irrigated by numerous streamlets of the clearest
water. A repast of the most delicious viands and fruits and wines was spread
before them by invisible hands; and they both ate to satiety, taking copious
draughts of the various wines. At length, the magician's guest sank into a deep
sleep; and when he awoke, he found himself again in the pebbly and sandy plain,
with Ṣádoomeh still by his side.—The reader will probably attribute this vision
to a dose of opium or some similar drug; and such I suppose to have been the
means employed; for I cannot doubt the integrity of the narrator, though he
would not admit such an explanation; regarding the whole as an affair of magic,
effected by the operation of Jinn, like similar relations in the present work.
It
may be remarked that most of the enchantments described in this work are said
to be performed by women; and reputed witches appear to have been much more
numerous in all countries than wizards. This fact the Muslims readily explain
by a saying of their Prophet:—That women are deficient in sense and
religion:—whence they argue that they are more inclined than men to practise
what is unlawful.
Note
⑯.
—On the Two Grand Festivals. The Muslims observe two grand 'Eeds, or
Festivals, in every year. The first of these immediately follows Ramaḍán, the
month of abstinence, and lasts three days: it is called the Minor Festival. The
other, which is called the Great Festival, commences on the tenth of Zu-l-Ḥejjeh,
the day when the pilgrims, halting on their return from Mount 'Arafát to
Mekkeh, in the Valley of Minè (vulgarly called Munà), perform their sacrifice:
the observance of this festival also continues three days, or four.
Early
in the first morning, on each of these festivals, the Muslim is required to
perform a lustration of his whole person, as on the mornings of Friday; and on
the first morning of the Minor Festival, he should break his fast with a few
dates or some other light food; but on the Great Festival, he abstains from
food until he has acquitted himself of the religious duties now to be
mentioned. Soon after sunrise, on the first day of each festival, the men,
dressed in new or in their best clothes, repair to the mosque, or to a
particular place appointed for the performance of the prayers of the 'Eed. On
going thither, they should repeat, frequently, "God is most
great!"—this, on the Minor Festival, they should do inaudibly: on the
other, aloud. The congregation, having assembled, repeat the prayers of two
rek'ahs; after which, the Khaṭeeb recites a khuṭbeh; i. e. an exhortation and a
prayer. On each of these festivals, in the mosque, or place of prayer, and in
the street, and at each other's houses, friends congratulate and embrace one
another; generally paying visits for this purpose; and the great receive visits
from their dependants. The young, on these occasions, kiss the right hand of
the aged; and servants or dependants do the same to their masters or superiors,
unless the latter be of high rank, in which case they kiss the end of the
hanging sleeve, or the skirt of the outer garment. Most of the shops are
closed, excepting those at which eatables and sweet drinks are sold; but the
streets are filled with people in their holiday clothes.
On
the Minor Festival, which, as it terminates an arduous fast, is celebrated with
more rejoicing than the other, servants and other dependants receive presents
of new articles of clothing from their masters or patrons; and the servant
receives presents of small sums of money from his master's friends, whom, if
they do not visit his master, he goes to congratulate; as well as from any
former master, to whom he often takes a plateful of kaḥks. These are sweet
cakes, or biscuits, of an annular form, composed of flour and butter, with a
little 'ajameeyeh (which is a thick paste consisting of butter, honey, a little
flour, and some spices) inside. They are also often sent as presents on this
occasion by other people. Another custom required of the faithful on this
festival is the giving of alms.
On
the Great Festival, after the prayers of the congregation, every one who can
afford it performs, with his own hand, or by that of a deputy, a sacrifice of a
ram, he-goat, cow or buffalo, or she-camel; part of the meat of which he eats,
and part he gives to the poor, or to his friends or dependants. The ram or goat
should be at least one year old; the cow or buffalo, two years; and the camel,
five years; and the victim should not have any considerable mutilation or
infirmity. A cow or buffalo, or a camel, is a sufficient sacrifice for seven
persons. The clothes which were put on new at the former festival are generally
worn on this occasion; and the presents which are given to servants and others
are usually somewhat less.
On
each of the two festivals it is also customary, especially with the women, to
visit the tombs of relations. The party generally take with them a palm-branch,
and place it, broken in several pieces, or merely its leaves, upon the tomb or
monument; or some, instead of this, place sweet basil or other flowers. They
also usually provide themselves with sweet cakes, bread, dates, or some other
kind of food, to distribute to the poor. But their first duty, on arriving at
the tomb, is to recite the Fáteḥah (the opening Chapter of the Ḳur-án), or to
employ a person to recite previously a longer chapter; generally the
thirty-sixth (or Soorat Yá-Seen); or even the whole of the book: or sometimes
the visiters recite the Fáteḥah, and, after having hired a person to perform a
longer recitation, go away before he commences. The women often stay all the
days of the festival in the cemeteries, either in tents, or in houses of their
own, erected there for their reception on these and other occasions. The tent
of each party surrounds the tomb which is the object of their visit. In the
outskirts of the cemeteries, swings and whirligigs are erected; and
story-tellers, dancers, and jugglers, amuse the populace.
Note
⑰.
—On the Mode of Slaughtering of Animals for Food. In the old
translation, the sheykh is described as preparing to slaughter the cow with a
mallet. This is a mistake of a serious nature; as the flesh of the victim, if
so killed, would be legally unclean. The Muslims are required to slaughter
animals for food in a particular manner. Sheep, goats, cows or bulls, and
buffaloes, must be killed by cutting the throat, at the part next the head, or
any other part; dividing the windpipe, gullet, and carotid arteries. The camel
is to be slaughtered by stabbing the throat at the part next the breast.
Poultry, also, must be killed by cutting the throat; and so must every tame
animal of which the flesh is lawful food. The slaughterer, in every case, must
be a Muslim, a Christian, or a Jew; of either sex. On commencing the operation,
he must say, "In the name of God! God is most great!"—or at least,
"In the name of God!"—but not add, "the Compassionate, the
Merciful"—for an obvious reason. Birds or beasts of the chase may be
killed by an arrow, a dog, a hawk, &c.; but the name of God must be uttered
at the time of discharging the arrow, or slipping the dog, &c. When the
beast or bird is not killed at once by the arrow, &c., it must be
slaughtered as soon as possible, in the same manner as sheep and poultry: the
law, as well as humanity, requires this.
Note
⑱.
—On the Influence of Eloquence and Tales upon the Arabs. The main
incident upon which this work is founded, the triumph of the fascination of the
tongue over a cruel and unjust determination which nothing else could annul,
might be regarded, by persons unacquainted with the character and literature of
the Arabs, as a contrivance too improbable in its nature; but such is not the
case. Perhaps there are no other people in the world who are such enthusiastic
admirers of literature, and so excited by romantic tales, as those above named.
Eloquence, with them, is lawful magic: it exercises over their minds an
irresistible influence. "I swear by God," said their Prophet,
"verily abuse of infidels in verse is worse to them than arrows."
This, of course, alludes to Arab unbelievers.
In
the purest, or Heroic Age of Arabic literature, which was anterior to the
triumph of the Mohammadan religion, the conquest which the love of eloquence
could achieve over the sanguinary and vindictive feelings of the Arabs was most
remarkably exemplified in the annual twenty days' fair of 'Okáẓ, or 'Okáḍh.
Respecting this fair, I shall here insert a few particulars borrowed from an
author who is at present devoting talents of the very highest order to the
study and illustration of the history and literature of the early Arabs, and to
whose conversation and writings I must acknowledge myself indebted for most
valuable information, which will often be of great utility to me in this
undertaking, as well as in every branch of my Arabic studies.
The
fair of 'Okáẓ "was not only a great mart opened annually to all the tribes
of Arabia; but it was also a literary congress, or rather a general concourse
of virtues, of glory and of poetry, whither the hero-poets resorted to
celebrate their exploits in rhyming verse, and peacefully to contend for every
kind of honour. This fair was held in the district of Mekkeh, between Eṭ-Ṭáïf
and Nakhleh, and was opened at the new moon of Zu-l-Ḳaạdeh; that is to say, at
the commencement of a period of three sacred months, during which all war was
suspended, and homicide interdicted.... How is it possible to conceive that men
whose wounds were always bleeding, who had always acts of vengeance to execute,
vengeances to dread, could at a certain epoch impose silence upon their
animosities, so as tranquilly to sit by a mortal enemy? How could the brave who
required the blood of a father, a brother, or a son, according to the
phraseology of the desert and of the Bible, who long, perhaps, had pursued in
vain the murderer,—meet him, accost him peacefully at 'Okáẓ, and only assault
with cadences and rhymes him whose presence alone seemed to accuse him of
impotence or cowardice,—him whom he was bound to slay, under pain of infamy,
after the expiration of the truce? In fine, how could he hear a panegyric
celebrating a glory acquired at his own expense, and sustain the fire of a
thousand looks, and yet appear unmoved? Had the Arabs no longer any blood in
their veins during the continuance of the fair?—These questions, so embarrassing,
... were determined [to a great degree], during the age of Arab paganism, in a
manner the most simple and most refined.—At the fair of 'Okáẓ, the heroes were
masked [or veiled].—In the recitations and improvisations, the voice of the
orator was aided by that of a rhapsodist or crier, who was stationed near him,
and repeated his words. There is a similar office in the public prayers: it is
that of the muballigh (transmitter), who is employed to repeat in a loud voice
what is said in a lower tone by the Imám. These two facts have been revealed to
me by the same manuscript which I am translating, and upon which I am
commenting. The use of the mask [or veil] might, however, be either adopted or
dispensed with, ad libitum; as is proved by the narratives of a great number of
quarrels begun and ended at 'Okáẓ.... It was in this congress of the Arab poets
(and almost every warriour was a poet at the age which I am considering) that
the dialects of Arabia became fused into a magic language, the language of the Ḥejáz,
which Moḥammad made use of to subvert the world; for the triumph of Moḥammad is
nothing else than the triumph of speech."—The Ḳur-án is regarded by the
Arabs as an everlasting miracle, surpassing all others, appealing to the
understanding of every generation by its inimitable eloquence. A stronger proof
of the power of language over their minds could hardly be adduced; unless it be
their being capable of receiving as a credible fact the tradition that both
genii and men were attracted by the eloquent reading of David, when he recited
the Psalms; that the wild beasts and the birds were alike fascinated; and that
sometimes there were borne out from his assembly as many as four hundred
corpses of men who died from the excessive delight with which he thus inspired
them. It may be added that the recitation, or chanting, of the Ḳur-án is a
favourite means of amusing the guests at modern private festivities.
In
what may be termed the Middle Age of Arabic literature, commencing from the
triumph of the Mohammadan religion, and extending to the foundation of the
Empire of Baghdád, the power of eloquence over the educated classes of the
Arabs probably increased in proportion as it became less familiar to them: for,
early in this age, they began to simplify their spoken language in consequence
of their intercourse with strangers, who could not generally acquire the
difficult, old dialect of their conquerors: this, therefore, then began to be
confined to literary compositions. That such a change took place at this period
appears from several anecdotes interspersed in Arabic works. The Khaleefeh
El-Weleed (who reigned near the close of the first century of the Flight), the
son of 'Abd-El-Melik, spoke so corrupt a dialect that he often could not make
himself understood by the Arabs of the desert. A ridiculous instance of the
mistakes occasioned by his use of the simplified language which is now current
is related by Abu-l-Fidà. The same author adds, that the father and predecessor
of this prince was a man of eloquence, and that he was grieved by the corrupt
speech of his son, which he considered as a defect that incapacitated him to be
a future ruler of the Arabs, as they were still great admirers of purity of
speech, though so large a proportion of them spoke a corrupt dialect;
wherefore, he sent him to a house to be instructed by a grammarian; but after
the youth had remained there a long time, he returned to his father more
ignorant than before. Vulgarisms, however, would sometimes escape from the
mouth of 'Abd-El-Melik himself; yet, so sensible was he to eloquence, that,
when a learned man, with whom he was conversing, elegantly informed him of an
error of this kind, he ordered his mouth to be filled with jewels.
"These," said his courteous admonisher, "are things to be
treasured up; not to be expended:"—and for this delicate hint, he was
further rewarded with thirty thousand pieces of silver, and several costly
articles of apparel.—It may be aptly added, that this Khaleefeh was, in the
beginning of his reign, an unjust monarch; and as he thus bore some slight
resemblance to our Shahriyár, so was he reclaimed to a sense of his duty by
means somewhat similar. Being, one night, unable to sleep, he called for a
person to tell him a story for his amusement. "O Prince of the
Faithful," said the man thus bidden, "there was an owl in El-Móṣil,
and an owl in El-Baṣrah; and the owl of El-Móṣil demanded in marriage, for her
son, the daughter of the owl of El-Baṣrah: but the owl of El-Baṣrah said, 'I
will not, unless thou give me, as her dowry, a hundred desolate farms.' 'That I
cannot do,' said the owl of El-Móṣil, 'at present; but if our sovereign (may
God, whose name be exalted, preserve him!) live one year, I will give thee what
thou desirest.'"—This simple fable sufficed to rouse the prince from his
apathy, and he thenceforward applied himself to fulfil the duties of his
station.
In
the most flourishing age of Arabic poetry and general literature and science,
commencing from the foundation of the Empire of Baghdád, and extending to the
conquest of Egypt by the 'Osmánlee Turks, the influence of eloquent and
entertaining language upon the character of the Arab sovereigns was
particularly exemplified. A few illustrative anecdotes may here be inserted.
It
is related by El-Aṣma'ee, that Hároon Er-Rasheed, at a grand fête which he was
giving, ordered the poet Abu-l-'Atáhiyeh to depict, in verse, the voluptuous
enjoyments of his sovereign. The poet began thus:—
"Live
long in safe enjoyment of thy desires, under the shadow of lofty palaces!"
"Well
said!" exclaimed Er-Rasheed: "and what next?"
"May
thy wishes be abundantly fulfilled, whether at eventide or in the
morning!"
"Well!"
again said the Khaleefeh: "then what next?"
"But
when the rattling breath struggles in the dark cavity of the chest.
Then
shalt thou know surely, that thou hast been only in the midst of
illusions."—Er-Rasheed wept; and Faḍl, the son of Yaḥyà, said, "The
Prince of the Faithful sent for thee to divert him, and thou hast plunged him
into grief." "Suffer him," said the prince; "for he hath
beheld us in blindness, and it displeased him to increase it."
The
family of the Barmekees (one of the most brilliant ornaments of which was the
Wezeer Jaạfar, who has been rendered agreeably familiar to us by the many
scenes in which he is introduced in the present work) earned a noble and
enduring reputation by their attachment to literature, and the magnificent
rewards they conferred on learned men. It was peculiarly hard, therefore, that
literature contributed to their melancholy overthrow. Poets were employed by
their enemies to compose songs artfully pointed against them, to be sung before
the prince to whom they owed their power. Of one of these songs, the following
lines formed a part:—
"Would
that Hind had fulfilled the promises she made us, and healed the disease under
which we suffer!
That
she had once, at least, acted for herself! for imbecile, indeed, is he who doth
not so."
"Yea!
By Allah! Imbecile!" exclaimed the Khaleefeh, on hearing these verses: his
jealousy was roused; and his vengeance soon after fell heavily upon his former
favourites.
One
of the Khaleefehs having invited the poets of his day to his palace, a Bedawee,
carrying a water-jar to fill at the river, followed them, and entered with
them. The Khaleefeh, seeing this poor man with the jar on his shoulder, asked
him what brought him thither. He returned for answer these words:—
"Seeing
that this company had girded on the saddles
To
repair to thy overflowing river, I came with my jar."
The
Khaleefeh, delighted with his answer, gave orders to fill his jar with gold.
In
the present declining age of Arabian learning (which may be said to have
commenced about the period of the conquest of Egypt by the 'Osmánlees),
literary recreations still exert a magic influence upon the Arabs. Compositions
of a similar nature to the tales of a Thousand and One Nights (though regarded
by the learned as idle stories unworthy of being classed with their literature)
enable numbers of professional story-tellers to attract crowds of delighted
listeners to the coffee-shops of the East; and now that the original of the
present work is printed, and to be purchased at a moderate price, it will
probably soon, in a great measure, supersede the romances of Aboo-Zeyd, Eẓ-Ẓáhir,
and 'Antar. As a proof of the powerful fascinations with which the tales of a
Thousand and One Nights affect the mind of a highly-enlightened Muslim, it may
be mentioned that the latest native historian of Modern Egypt, the sheykh
'Abd-Er-Raḥmán El-Jabartee, so delighted in their perusal that he took the
trouble of refining the language of a copy of them which he possessed,
expunging or altering whatever was grossly offensive to morality without the
somewhat redeeming quality of wit, and adding many facetiæ of his own, and of
other literati. What has become of this copy, I have been unable, though
acquainted with several of his friends, to discover.
Note
⑲.
It is a common custom among the Muslims to give a present to a person who
brings good tidings. The word (bishárah) which I render "a reward for
bringing good news," literally signifies merely "good news;" but
it is often used, as in this case, in the former sense.
Note
⑳.
A Mohammadan woman is not allowed to show her face to any men excepting certain
near relations and others whom the law prohibits her from marrying. Who these
are will be mentioned in a future note, descriptive of the general laws and
ceremonies of marriage. Respectable females consider it a great disgrace to be
seen unveiled by any men but those above alluded to.
Note
㉑.
—On the Deenár and Dirhem. The standards of gold and silver coin, among
the Arabs, were the deenár and the dirhem: therefore, in this work, I call the
former "a piece of gold," and the latter "a piece of
silver." Their values have varied considerably at different periods; but
in the present work, we shall sufficiently approximate to the truth, if we
understand the average value of the former to be about ten shillings or half a
guinea; and that of the latter, about sixpence.
Note
㉒.
—Description of Shops. In Eastern cities, most of the great
thoroughfare-streets, and many others, have a row of shops along each side, not
communicating with the superstructures; which latter are divided into separate
lodgings, inhabited by different families, and seldom by the persons who rent
the shops beneath. These streets are called, in Arabic, "Sooḳs;" and
are generally termed by us, "Bázárs." A whole street of this
description, or a portion of such a street, commonly contains only or chiefly
shops appropriated to a particular trade; and is called the Sooḳ of that trade.
In general, the shop is a small recess or cell, about six or seven feet high,
and between three and four feet wide, the floor of which is even with the top
of a raised seat of stone or brick, called "maṣṭabah," between two
and three feet high, and about the same in breadth; upon which the shopkeeper
usually sits. The front of the shop is furnished with shutters; which, when
closed, at night, are secured by a wooden lock. Several of the engravings in
this work will convey a better notion of shops of different kinds than a more
detailed description.
Note
㉓.
Distrust in his governors and relations and acquaintance often induces an Arab
to hide his money under the paved floor of a room, or in some other place, in
his house.
Note
㉔.
These words, "I give myself to thee," uttered by a woman to a man,
even without the presence of witnesses, if they cannot be easily procured,
render her his lawful wife, if he replies that he accepts her, and gives her a
dowry.
Note
㉕.
I have substituted "Jinneeyeh" (agreeably with the Calcutta edition
of the first two hundred nights, and because the context requires it) for
"'Efreeteh," which signifies a powerful and evil female genie.—The
tale to which this note refers may be illustrated by the following anecdote,
which was related to me by a Persian with whom I was acquainted in Cairo, named
Abu-l-Ḳásim, a native of Geelán, then superintendent of the Báshà's
Printing-office at Booláḳ.
One
of this person's countrymen, whom he asserted to be a man of indubitable
veracity, was sitting on the roof of a house which he had hired, overlooking
the Ganges, and was passing the closing hour of the day, according to his usual
custom, smoking his Persian pipe, and feasting his eyes by gazing at the
beautiful forms of Indian maidens bathing in the river, when he beheld among
them one so lovely that his heart was overpowered with desire to have her for
his wife. At nightfall she came to him, and told him that she had observed his
emotion, and would consent to become his wife; but on the condition that he
should never admit another female to take or share her place, and that she
should only be with him in the night-time. They took the marriage-vow to each
other, with none for their witness but God; and great was his happiness, till,
one evening, he saw again, among a group of girls in the river, another who
excited in him still more powerful emotions. To his surprise, this very form
stood before him at the approach of night. He withstood the temptation, mindful
of his marriage-vow: she used every allurement; but he was resolute. His fair
visiter then told him that she was his wife; that she was a Jinneeyeh; and that
she would always thenceforward visit him in the form of any female whom he
might chance to prefer.
Note
㉖.
This form of benediction is almost always added when the Prophet is mentioned
in a book by any of his followers, and often also in conversation.
Note
㉗.
Perhaps it is needless to explain this proverb by the words of the
Bible—"Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." (Romans,
xii. 19.) For the honour of the Muslims I must say that this maxim is often
observed by them, excepting in cases to which the law of retaliation applies.
Note
㉘.
The houses in Arabian countries generally have flat roofs, upon which, in the
summer, some of the inhabitants often sleep: the interior, therefore, is as
accessible from the roof as from the common entrance.
Note
㉙.
I here steer a middle course between my usual standard copy—which gives the
story of the third sheykh more fully than I have done—and the Calcutta edition
of the first two hundred nights, which omits it altogether, as does also the
copy from which the old translation was made, perhaps on account of its
uninteresting nature.
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