The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, vol 8 - Sir Richard Francis Burton (best e reader for epub .TXT) 📗

class="calibre1">traitress! What ailed thee to leave the faith of thy fathers and forefathers and the safeguard of the Messiah, on whom is our reliance, and follow after the faith of the Vagrants,[FN#543] to wit, the faith of Al-Islam, the which arose with the sword against the Cross and the Images?” Replied Miriam, “I am not at fault, I went out by night to the church, to visit the Lady Mary and seek a blessing of her, when there fell upon me unawares a band of Moslem robbers, who gagged me and bound me fast and carrying me on board the barque, set sail with me for their own country. However, I beguiled them and talked with them of their religion, till they loosed my bonds; and ere I knew it thy men overtook me and delivered me. And by the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar and the Cross and the Crucified thereon, I rejoiced with joy exceeding in my release from them and my bosom broadened and I was glad for my deliverance from the bondage of the Moslems!” Rejoined the King, “Thou liest, O whore!

O adultress! By the virtue of that which is revealed of prohibition and permission in the manifest Evangel,[FN#544] I will assuredly do thee die by the foulest of deaths and make thee the vilest of examples! Did it not suffice thee to do as thou didst the first time and put off thy lies upon us, but thou must return upon us with thy deceitful inventions?” Thereupon the King bade kill her and crucify her over the palace gate; but, at that moment the one-eyed Wazir, who had long been enamoured of the Princess, came in to him and said, “Ho King! saly her not, but give her to me to wife, and I will watch over her with the utmost warding, nor will I go in unto her, till I have built her a palace of solid stone, exceeding high of foundation, so no thieves may avail to climb up to its terrace-roof; and when I have made an end of building it, I will sacrifice thirty Moslems before the gate thereof, as an expiatory offering to the Messiah for myself and for her.” The King granted his request and bade the priests and monks and patriarchs marry the Princess to him; so they did his bidding, whereupon he bade set about building a strong and lofty palace, befitting her rank and the workmen fell to work upon it. On this wise it betided the Princess Miriam and her sire and the one-eyed Wazir; but as regards Nur al-Din, when he came back with the petticoat-trousers and mantilla and walking boots and all the attire of Alexandrian women which he had borrowed of the druggist’s wife, he “found the air void and the fane afar[FN#545]”;—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

 

When it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-sixth Night, She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur al-Din, “found the aire void[FN#546] and the fane afar,” his heart sank within him and he wept floods of tears and recited these verses,[FN#547]

 

“The phantom of Soada came by nigh to wake me towards morning while my companions were sleeping in the desert: But when we awoke to behold the nightly phantom, I saw the air vacant, and the place of visitation distant.”

 

Then Nur al-Din walked on along the seashore and turned right and left, till he saw folk gathered together on the beach and heard them say, “O Moslems, there remaineth no honour to Alexandria-city, since the Franks enter it and snatch away those who are therein and return to their own land, at their leisure[FN#548] nor pursued of any of the Moslems or fighters for the Faith!” Quoth Nur al-Din to them, “What is to do?”; and quoth they, “O my son, one of the ships of the Franks, full of armed men, came down but now upon the port and carried off a ship which was moored here, with her that was therein, and made unmolested for their own land.” Nur al-Din fell down a-swoon, on hearing these words; and when he recovered they questioned him of his case and he told them all that had befallen him first and last; whereupon they all took to reviling him and railing at him, saying, “Why couldst thou not bring her up into the town without mantilla and muffler?” And all and each of the folk gave him some grievous word, berating him with sharp speech, and shooting at him some shaft or reproach, albeit one said, “Let him be; that which hath befallen him sufficeth him,” till he again fell down in a fainting-fit. And behold, at this moment, up came the old druggist, who, seeing the folk gathered together, drew near to learn what was the matter and found Nur al-Din lying a-swoon in their midst. So he sat down at his head and arousing him, said to him as soon as he recovered, “O my son, what is this case in which I see thee?” Nur al-Din said, “O uncle, I had brought back in a barque my lost slavegirl from her father’s city, suffering patiently all I suffered of perils and hardships; and when I came with her to this port, I made the vessel fast to the shore and leaving her therein, repaired to thy dwelling and took of thy consort what was needful for her, that I might bring her up into the town; but the Franks came and capturing barque and damsel made off unhindered, and returned to their own land.” Now when the Shaykh, the druggist, heard this, the light in his eyes became night and he grieved with sore grieving for Nur al-Din and said to him, “O my son, why didst thou not bring her out of the ship into the city without mantilla? But speech availeth not at this season; so rise, O my son, and come up with me to the city; haply Allah will vouchsafe thee a girl fairer than she, who shall console thee for her. Alhamdolillah-praised be Allah-who hath not made thee lose aught by her! Nay, thou hast gained by her. And bethink thee, O my son, that Union and Disunion are in the hands of the Most High King..” Replied Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O uncle, I can never be consoled for her loss nor will I ever leave seeking her, though on her account I drink the cup of death!”

Rejoined the druggist, “O my son, and what art thou minded to do?” Quoth Nur al-Din, “I am minded to return to the land of the Franks[FN#549] and enter the city of France and emperil myself there; come what may, loss of life or gain of life.” Quoth the druggist, “O my son, there is an old saw, ‘Not always doth the crock escape the shock’; and if they did thee no hurt the first time, belike they will slay thee this time, more by token that they know thee now with full knowledge.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “O my uncle, let me set out and be slain for the love of her straightway and not die of despair for her loss by slow torments.” Now as Fate determined there was then a ship in port ready to sail, for its passengers had made an end of their affairs[FN#550] and the sailors had pulled up the mooring-stakes, when Nur al-Din embarked in her. So they shook out their canvas and relying on the Compassionate, put out to sea and sailed many days, with fair wind and weather, till behold, they fell in with certain of the Frank cruisers, which were scouring those waters and seizing upon all ships they saw, in their fear for the King’s daughter from the Moslem corsairs: and as often as they made prize of a Moslem ship, they carried all her people to the King of France, who put them to death in fulfilment of the vow he had vowed on account of his daughter Miriam. So, seeing the ship wherein was Nur al-Din they boarded her and taking him and the rest of the company prisoners, to the number of an hundred Moslems, carried them to the King and set them between his hands.

He bade cut their throats. Accordingly they slaughtered them all forthwith, one after another, till there was none left but Nur al-Din, whom the headsman had left to the last, in pity of his tender age and slender shape. When the King saw him, he knew him right well and said to him, “Art thou not Nur al-Din, who was with us before?” Said he, “I was never with thee: and my name is not Nur al-Din, but Ibrahim.” Rejoined the King; “Thou liest, thou art Nur al-Din, he whom I gave to the ancient dame the Prioress, to help her in the service of the church.” But Nur al-Din replied, “O my lord, my name is Ibrahim.” Quoth the King, “Wait a while,” and bade his knights fetch the old woman forthright, saying, “When she cometh and seeth thee, she will know an thou be Nur al-Din or not.” At this juncture, behold, in came the one-eyed Wazir who had married the Princess and kissing the earth before the King said to him, “Know, O King, that the palace is finished; and thou knowest how I vowed to the Messiah that, when I had made an end of building it, I would cut thirty Moslems’ throats before its doors; wherefore I am come to take them of thee, that I may sacrifice them and so fulfil my vow to the Messiah. They shall be at my charge, by way of loan, and whenas there come prisoners to my hands, I will give thee other thirty in lieu of them.” Replied the King, ‘By the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, I have but this one captive left!” And he pointed to Nur al-Din, saying, “Take him and slaughter him at this very moment and the rest I will send thee when there come to my hands other prisoners of the Moslems.”

Thereupon the one-eyed Wazir arose and took Nur al-Din and carried him to his palace, thinking to slaughter him on the threshold of the gate; but the painters said to him, “O my lord, we have two days’ painting yet to do: so bear with us and delay to cut the throat of this captive, till we have made an end of our work; haply by that time the rest of the thirty will come, so thou mayst despatch them all at one bout and accomplish thy vow in a single day.” Thereupon the Wazir bade imprison Nur al-Din.—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

 

When it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-seventh Night, She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Wazir bade imprison Nur al-Din, they carried him to the stables and left him there in chains, hungering and thirsting and making moan for himself; for indeed he saw death face to face. Now it fortuned, by the ordinance of Destiny and foreordained Fate, that the King had two stallions, own brothers,[FN#551] such as the Chosroe Kings might sigh in vain to possess themselves of one of them; they were called S�bik and L�hik[FN#552] and one of them was pure silvern white while the other was black as the darksome night. And all the Kings of the isles had said, “Whoso stealeth us one of these stallions, we will give him all he seeketh of red gold and pearls and gems;” but none could avail to steal them.

Now one of them fell sick of a jaundice and there came a whiteness over his eyes;[FN#553]