The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol 16 - Sir Richard Francis Burton (uplifting books for women txt) 📗
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Cazotte, after a well-spent and honourable life, had reason to expect with calmness “the evening and ending of a fine day.” But this was not to be; the Great Revolution had burst like a hurricane over the land, and he was doomed to die a hero’s death.
His character was too candid, and his disposition too honest, for times which suggested concealment. He had become one of the Illuminati, and La Harpe ascribed to him the celebrated prophecy which described the minutest events of the Great Revolution. A Royalist pur sang, he freely expressed his sentiments to his old friend Ponteau, then Secretary of the Civil List. His letters came to light shortly after the terrible day, August IO, 1792: he was summarily arrested at Pierry and brought to Paris, where he was thrown into prison. On Sept. 3, when violence again waxed rampant, he was attacked by the patriot-assassins, and was saved only by the devotion of his daughter Elizabeth, who threw herself upon the old man crying, “You shall not reach my father’s heart before piercing mine.” The courage of the noble pair commanded the admiration of the ruffians, and they were carried home in triumph.
For a few weeks the family remained unmolested, but in those days “Providence” slept and Fortune did not favour the brave. The Municipality presently decreed a second arrest, and the venerable litt�rateur, aged seventy two, was sent before the revolutionary tribunal appointed to deal with the pretended offences of August 10. He was subjected to an interrogatory of thirty-six hours, during which his serenity and presence of mind never abandoned him and impressed even his accusers. But he was condemned to die for the all-sufficient reason:—“It is not enough to be a good son, a good husband, a good father, one must also prove oneself a good citizen.” He spent his last hours wit’. his confessor, wrote to his wife and children, praying his family not to beweep him, not to forget him, and never to offend against their God; and this missive, with a lock of his hair for his beloved daughter, he finally entrusted to the ghostly father. Upon the scaffold he turned to the crowd and cried, “I die as I have lived, truthful and faithful to my God and my King.” His venerable head, crowned with the white honours of age, fell on Sept. 25, 1792.
Cazotte printed many works, some of great length, as the �uvres Morales, which filled 7 vols. 8vo in the complete edition of 1817; and the biographers give a long list of publications, besides those above-mentioned, romantic, ethical, and spiritual, in verse and in prose. But he wrote mainly for his own pleasure, he never sought fame, and consequently his reputation never equalled his merit. His name, however, still smells sweet, passing sweet, amid the corruption and the frantic fury of his day, and the memory of the witty, genial, and virtuous litt�rateur still blossoms in the dust.
During my visit to Paris in early 1887, M. Hermann Zotenberg was kind enough to show me the MS., No. 1723, containing the original tales of the “New Arabian Nights.” As my health did not allow me sufficient length of stay to complete my translation, Professor Houdas kindly consented to copy the excerpts required, and to explain the words and phrases which a deficiency of dictionaries and vocabularies at an outlandish port-town rendered unintelligible to me.
In translating a MS., which has never been collated or corrected and which abounds in errors of omission and commission, I have been guided by one consideration only, which is, that my first and chiefest duty to the reader is to make my book readable at the same time that it lays before him the whole matter which the text offered or ought to have offered. Hence I have not hesitated when necessary to change the order of the sentences, to delete tautological words and phrases, to suppress descriptions which are needlessly reiterated, and in places to supply the connecting links without which the chain of narrative is weakened or broken.
These are liberties which must be allowed, unless the translator’s object be to produce a mutilated version of a mutilation.
Here also I must express my cordial gratitude to Mr. Alexander J.
Cotheal, Consul-General for Nicaragua, in New York. This distinguished Arabist not only sent to me across the seas his MS.
containing, inter alia, “The Tale of Attaf,” he also under took to translate it for my collection upon my distinct assurance that its many novelties of treatment deserved an especial version. Mr.
W. F. Kirby has again conferred upon my readers an important service by his storiological notes. Lastly, Dr. Steingass has lent me, as before, his valuable aid in concluding as he did in commencing this series, and on putting the colophon to The Sixteenth Volume of
The Thousand Nights and a Night.
RICHARD F. BURTON
United Service Club, August 1st, 1888.
Supplemental Nights
To The Book Of The
Thousand Nights And A Night
The Say of Haykar the Sage.[FN#6]
In the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the Compassionate, the Eternal One, the Termless, the Timeless, and of Him aidance we await. And here we begin (with the assistance of Allah Almighty and his fair furtherance) to invite the Story of Haykar the Sage, the Philosopher, the Wazir of Sankharib[FN#7] the Sovran, and of the son of the wise man’s sister Nadan[FN#8] the Fool.
They relate that during the days of Sankh�r�b the King, lord of As�r[FN#9] and Naynawah,[FN#10] there was a Sage, Hayk�r hight, Grand Wazir of that Sovran and his chief secretary, and he was a grandee of abundant opulence and ampliest livelihood: ware was he and wise, a philosopher, and endowed with lore and rede and experience. Now he had interwedded with threescore wives, for each and every of which he had builded in his palace her own bower; natheless he had not a boy to tend, and was he sore of sorrow therefor. So one day he gathered together the experts, astrologers and wizards, and related to them his case and complained of the condition caused by his barrenness. They made answer to him, “Get thee within and do sacrifice to the Godheads and enquire of them and implore their favour when haply shall they vouchsafe unto thee boon of babe.” He did whatso they bade and set corbans and victims before the images and craved their assistance, humbling himself with prayer and petition; withal they vouchsafed to him never a word of reply. So he fared forth in distress and disappointment and went his ways all disheartened. Then he returned in his humiliation to Almighty Allah[FN#11] and confided his secret unto Him and called for succour in the burning of his heart, and cried with a loud voice saying, “O God of Heaven and Earth, O Creator of all creatures, I beg Thee to vouchsafe unto me a son wherewith I may console my old age and who may become my heir, after being present at my death and closing my eyes and burying my body.” Hereat came a Voice from Heaven which said, “Inasmuch as at first thou trustedst in graven images and offeredst to them victims, so shalt thou remain childless, lacking sons and daughters.
However, get thee up and take to thee N�d�n, thy sister’s child; and, after taking this nephew to son, do thou inform him with thy learning and thy good breeding and thy sagesse, and demise to him that he inherit of thee after thy decease.” Hereupon the Sage adopted his nephew Nadan, who was then young in years and a suckling, that he might teach him and train him; so he entrusted him to eight wet-nurses and dry-nurses for feeding and rearing, and they brought him up on diet the choicest with delicatest nurture and clothed him with sendal and escarlate[FN#12] and dresses dyed with Alkermes,[FN#13] and his sitting was upon shag-piled rugs of silk. But when Nadan grew great and walked and shot up even as the lofty Cedar[FN#14] of Lebanon, his uncle taught him deportment and writing and reading[FN#15] and philosophy and the omne scibile. Now after a few days Sankharib the King looked upon Haykar and saw how that he had waxed an old old man, so quoth he to him, “Ho thou excellent companion,[FN#16]
the generous, the ingenious, the judicious, the sagacious, the Sage, my Secretary and my Minister and the Concealer of my secrets and the Councillor of my kingdom, seeing how so it be that thou art aged and well shotten in years and nigh unto thy death and decease, so tell me[FN#17] who shall stand in my service after thy demise?” Made answer Haykar, “O my lord the King, may thy head live for ever and aye! that same shall be this Nadan, son to my sister, whom I have taken to myself as mine own child and have reared him and have taught him my learning and my experience, all thereof.” “Bring him to the presence,” quoth the King, “and set him between my hands, that I look upon him; and, if I find him fitting, I will stablish him in thy stead. Then do thou wend thy ways and off-go from office that thou take thy rest and tend thine old age, living the lave of thy life in the fairest of honour.” Hereupon Haykar hied him home and carried his nephew Nadan before the King, who considered him and was pleased with the highmost of pleasure and, rejoicing in him, presently asked the uncle, “Be this thine adopted son, O Haykar? I pray Allah preserve him; and, even as thou servedst my sire Sarh�d�n[FN#18] before me, even so shall this thy son do me suite and service and fulfil my affairs and my needs and my works, to the end that I may honour him and advance him for the sake of thee.” Thereat Haykar prostrated himself before the presence and said, “May thy head live, O my lord, for evermore! I desire of thee to extend the wings of thy spirit over him for that he is my son, and do thou be clement to his errings, so that he may serve thee as besitteth.” The King forthwith made oath that he would stablish the youth amongst the highmost of his friends and the most worshipful of his familiars and that he should abide with him in all respect and reverence. So Haykar kissed the royal hands and blessed his lord; then, taking with him Nadan his nephew, he seated him in privacy and fell to teaching him by night as well as by day, that he might fill him with wisdom and learning rather than with meat and drink; and he would address him in these terms.[FN#19] “O dear my son,[FN#20] if a word come to thine ears, suffer it to die within thy heart nor ever disclose it unto other, lest haply it become a live coal[FN#21]
to burn up thy tongue and breed pain in thy body and clothe thee in shame and gar thee despised of God and man. O dear my son, an thou hear a report reveal it not, and if thou behold a thing relate it not. O dear my son, make easy thine address
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