One thousand and one nig.., p.115
One Thousand and One Nights, page 115
The merchant, who had expected that Ali Khaujeh would come with such a complaint, had meditated an answer. “Friend Ali Khaujeh,” said he, “when you brought your jar to me did I touch it? did not I give you the key of my warehouse, did not you carry it there yourself, and did not you find it in the same place, covered in the same manner as when you left it? And if you had put gold in it, you must have found it. You told me it contained olives, and I believed you. This is all I know of the matter: you may disbelieve me if you please; but I never touched them.”
Ali Khaujeh used all the mild methods he could think of to oblige the merchant to restore his property. “I love peace and quietness,” said he to him, “and shall be sorry to come to those extremities which will bring the greatest disgrace upon you; consider, that merchants, as we are, ought to abandon all interest to preserve a good reputation. Once again I tell you, I shall be greatly concerned if your obstinacy oblige me to force you to do me justice; for I would rather almost lose what is my right than have recourse to law.”
“Ali Khaujeh,” replied the merchant, “you agree that you left a jar of olives with me; and now you have taken it away, you come and ask me for a thousand pieces of gold. Did you ever tell me that such a sum was in the jar? I did not even know that they were olives, for you never showed them to me. I wonder you do not ask me for diamonds and pearls instead of gold; be gone about your business, and do not raise a mob about my warehouse;” for some persons had already collected. These words were pronounced in such great heat and passion, as not only made those who stood about the warehouse already stay longer, and create a greater mob, but the neighbouring merchants came out of their shops to learn what the dispute was between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant, and endeavoured to reconcile them; but when Ali Khaujeh had informed them of his grievance, they asked the merchant what he had to say.
The merchant owned that he had kept the jar for Ali Khaujeh in his warehouse, but denied that ever he had meddled with it; swore that he knew it contained olives, only because Ali Khaujeh told him so, and requested them all to bear witness of the insult and affront offered him. “You bring it upon yourself,” said Ali Khaujeh taking him by the arm; “but since you use me so basely, I cite you to the law of God: let us see whether you will have the assurance to say the same thing before the cauzee.”
The merchant could not refuse the summons, which every Mussulmaun is bound to observe, or be declared a rebel against religion; but said, “With all my heart; we shall soon see who is in the wrong.”
Ali Khaujeh carried the merchant before the magistrate, where he accused him of having, by breach of trust, defrauded him of a thousand pieces of gold, which he had left with him. The cauzee demanded if he had any witnesses; to which he replied, that he had not taken that precaution, because he had believed the person he trusted his money with to be his friend, and always took him for an honest man.
The merchant made the same defence he had done before the merchants his neighbours, offering to make oath that he never had the money he was accused of, and that he did not so much as know there was such a sum; upon which the cauzee took his oath, and dismissed him acquitted for want of evidence.
Ali Khaujeh, extremely mortified to find that he must sit down with so considerable a loss, protested against the sentence, declaring to the cauzee that he would appeal to the caliph, who would do him justice; which protestation the magistrate regarded as the effect of the common resentment of those who lose their cause; and thought he had done his duty in acquitting a person who had been accused without witnesses.
While the merchant returned home triumphing over Ali Khaujeh and overjoyed at his good fortune, the latter went and drew up a petition; and the next day observing the time when the caliph came from noon tide prayers, placed himself in the street he was to pass through; and holding out his hand with the petition, an officer appointed for that purpose, who always goes before the caliph, came and took it to present it.
As Ali Khaujeh knew that it was the caliph’s custom to read the petitions at his return to the palace, he went into the court, and waited till the officer who had taken the petition came out of the caliph’s apartment, who told him that the caliph had appointed an hour to hear him next day; and then asking him where the merchant lived, he sent to notify to him to attend at the same time.
That same evening, the caliph, accompanied by the grand vizier Jaaffier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs, went disguised through the town, as it was his custom occasionally to do; when, on passing through a street, the caliph heard a noise, and mending his pace, came to a gateway, which led into a little court, in which he perceived ten or twelve children playing by moonlight.
The caliph, who was curious to know at what play the children were engaged, sat down on a stone bench just by; and heard one of the liveliest of the children say, “Let us play at the cauzee I will be the magistrate; bring Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who cheated him of the thousand pieces of gold before me.”
These words of the child put the caliph in mind of the petition Ali Khaujeh had given him that day, and made him redouble his attention to see the issue of the trial.
As the affair of Ali Khaujeh and the merchant had made a great noise in Bagdad, it had not escaped the children, who all accepted the proposition with joy, and agreed on the part each was to act: not one of them refused him who made the proposal to be cauzee: and when he had taken his seat, which he did with all the seeming gravity of a judge, another, as an officer of the court, presented two boys before him; one as Ali Khaujeh, and the other as the merchant against whom he complained.
The pretended cauzee then directing his discourse to the feigned Ali Khaujeh, asked him what he had to lay to that merchant’s charge?
Ali Khaujeh after a low obeisance, informed the young cauzee of the fact, related every particular, and afterwards begged that he would use his authority, that he might not lose so considerable a sum of money.
The feigned cauzee, turning about to the merchant, then asked him why he did not return the money which Ali Khaujeh demanded of him?
The feigned merchant alleged the same reasons as the real merchant had done before the cauzee himself, and offered to confirm by oath that what he had said was truth.
“Not so fast,” replied the pretended cauzee; “before you come to your oath, I should be glad to see the jar of olives. Ali Khaujeh,” said he, addressing himself to the boy who acted that part, “have you brought the jar?” “No,” replied he. “Then go and fetch it immediately,” said the other.
The pretended Ali Khaujeh went immediately, and returning, feigned to set a jar before the cauzee, telling him that it was the same he had left with the accused person, and received from him again. But to omit no part of the formality, the supposed cauzee asked the merchant if it was the same; and as by his silence he seemed not to deny it, he ordered it to be opened. He that represented Ali Khaujeh seemed to take off the cover, and the pretended cauzee made as if he looked into it. “They are fine olives,” said he, “let me taste them;” and then pretending to eat some, added, “They are excellent: but,” continued he, “I cannot think that olives will keep seven years, and be so good, therefore send for some olive-merchants, and let me hear what is their opinion.” Two boys, as olive-merchants, then presented themselves. “Are you olive-merchants?” said the sham cauzee. “Tell me how long olives will keep fit to eat.”
“Sir,” replied the two merchants, “let us take what care we can, they will hardly be worth any thing the third year; for then they have neither taste nor colour.” “If it be so,” answered the cauzee, “look into that jar, and tell me how long it is since those olives were put into it?”
The two merchants pretended to examine and to taste the olives, and told the cauzee they were new and good. “You are mistaken,” said the young cauzee; “Ali Khaujeh says he put them into the jar seven years ago.”
“Sir,” replied the merchants, “we can assure you they are of this year’s growth: and we will maintain there is not a merchant in Bagdad but will say the same.”
The feigned merchant who was accused would have objected against the evidence of the olive-merchants; but the pretended cauzee would not suffer him. “Hold your tongue,” said he, “you are a rogue; let him be impaled.” The children then concluded their play, clapping their hands with great joy, and seizing the feigned criminal to carry him to execution.
Words cannot express how much the caliph Haroon al Rusheed admired the sagacity and sense of the boy who had passed so just a sentence, in an affair which was to be pleaded before himself the next day. He withdrew, and rising off the bench, asked the grand vizier, who heard all that had passed, what he thought of it. “Indeed, commander of the true believers,” answered the grand vizier Jaaffier, “I am surprised to find so much sagacity in one so young.”
“But,” answered the caliph, “do you know one thing? I am to pronounce sentence in this very cause to-morrow; the true Ali Khaujeh presented his petition to me to-day; and do you think,” continued he, “that I can give a better sentence?” “I think not,” answered the vizier, “if the case is as the children represented it.” “Take notice then of this house,” said the caliph, “and bring the boy to me to-morrow, that he may try this cause in my presence; and also order the cauzee, who acquitted the merchant, to attend to learn his duty from a child. Take care likewise to bid Ali Khaujeh bring his jar of olives with him, and let two olive-merchants attend.” After this charge he pursued his rounds, without meeting with any thing worth his attention.
The next day the vizier went to the house where the caliph had been a witness of the children’s play, and asked for the master; but he being abroad, his wife appeared thickly veiled. He asked her if she had any children. To which she answered, she had three; and called them. “My brave boys,” said the vizier, “which of you was the cauzee when you played together last night?” The eldest made answer, it was he: but, not knowing why he asked the question, coloured. “Come along with me, my lad,” said the grand vizier; “the commander of the faithful wants to see you.”
The mother was alarmed when she saw the grand vizier would take her son with him, and asked, upon what account the caliph wanted him? The grand vizier encouraged her, and promised that he should return again in less than an hour’s time, when she would know it from himself. “If it be so, sir,” said the mother, “give me leave to dress him first, that he may be fit to appear before the commander of the faithful:” which the vizier readily complied with.
As soon as the child was dressed, the vizier carried him away and presented him to the caliph, at the time he had appointed to hear Ali Khaujeh and the merchant.
The caliph, who saw that the boy was much abashed, in order to encourage him, said, “Come to me, child, and tell me if it was you that determined the affair between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who had cheated him of his money? I saw and heard the decision, and am very well pleased with you.” The boy answered modestly, that it was he. “Well, my son,” replied the caliph, “come and sit down by me, and you shall see the true Ali Khaujeh, and the true merchant.”
The caliph then took him by the hand, seated him on the throne by him, and asked for the two parties. When they were introduced, they prostrated themselves before the throne, bowing their heads quite down to the carpet that covered it. Afterwards the caliph said to them, “Plead each of you your causes before this child, who will hear and do you justice: and if he should be at a loss I will assist him.”
Ali Khaujeh and the merchant pleaded one after the other; but when the merchant proposed his oath as before, the child said, “It is too soon; it is proper that we should see the jar of olives.”
At these words Ali Khaujeh presented the jar, placed it at the caliph’s feet, and opened it. The caliph looked at the olives, took one and tasted it, giving another to the boy. Afterwards the merchants were called, who examined the olives, and reported that they were good, and of that year. The boy told them, that Ali Khaujeh affirmed that it was seven years since he had put them up; when they returned the same answer as the children, who had represented them the night before.
Though the wretch who was accused saw plainly that these merchants’ opinion must convict him, yet he would say something in his own justification. But the child, instead of ordering him to be impaled, looked at the caliph, and said “Commander of the faithful, this is no jesting matter; it is your majesty that must condemn him to death, and not I, though I did it yesterday in play.”
The caliph, fully satisfied of the merchant’s villany, delivered him into the hands of the ministers of justice to be impaled. The sentence was executed upon him, after he had confessed where he had concealed the thousand pieces of gold, which were restored to Ali Khaujeh. The monarch, most just and equitable, then turning to the cauzee, bade him learn of that child to acquit himself more exactly of his duty; and embracing the boy, sent him home with a purse of a hundred pieces of gold as a token of his liberality and admiration of his acuteness.
VOLUME 4
THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED HORSE.
The Nooroze, or the new day, which is the first of the year and spring, is observed as a solemn festival throughout all Persia, which has been continued from the time of idolatry; and our prophet’s religion, pure as it is, and true as we hold it, has not been able to abolish that heathenish custom, and the superstitious ceremonies which are observed, not only in the great cities, but celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings in every little town, village, and hamlet.
But the rejoicings are the most splendid at the court, for the variety of new and surprising spectacles, insomuch that strangers are invited from the neighbouring states, and the most remote parts, by the rewards and liberality of the sovereign, towards those who are the most excellent in their invention and contrivance. In short, nothing in the rest of the world can compare with the magnificence of this festival.
One of these festival days, after the most ingenious artists of the country had repaired to Sheerauz, where the court then resided, had entertained the king and all the court with their productions, and had been bountifully and liberally rewarded according to their merit and to their satisfaction by the monarch; when the assembly was just breaking up, a Hindoo appeared at the foot of the throne, with an artificial horse richly caparisoned, and so naturally imitated, that at first sight he was taken for a living animal.
The Hindoo prostrated himself before the throne; and pointing to the horse, said to the emperor, “Though I present myself the last before your majesty, yet I can assure you that nothing shewn to-day is so wonderful as this horse, on which I beg your majesty would be pleased to cast your eyes.” “I see nothing more in the horse,” said the emperor, “than the natural resemblance the workman has given him; which the skill of another workman may possibly execute as well or better.”
“Sir,” replied the Hindoo, “it is not for his outward form and appearance that I recommend my horse to your majesty’s examination as wonderful, but the use to which I can apply him, and which, when I have communicated the secret to them, any other persons may make of him. Whenever I mount him, be it where it may, if I wish to transport myself through the air to the most distant part of the world, I can do it in a very short time. This, sir, is the wonder of my horse; a wonder which nobody ever heard speak of, and which I offer to shew your majesty, if you command me.”
The emperor of Persia, who was fond of every thing that was curious, and notwithstanding the many prodigies of art he had seen had never beheld or heard of anything that came up to this, told the Hindoo, that nothing but the experience of what he asserted could convince him: and that he was ready to see him perform what he had promised.
The Hindoo instantly put his foot into the stirrup, mounted his horse with admirable agility, and when he had fixed himself in the saddle, asked the emperor whither he pleased to command him.
About three leagues from Sheerauz there was a lofty mountain discernible from the large square before the palace, where the emperor, his court, and a great concourse of people, then were. “Do you see that mountain?” said the emperor, pointing to it; “it is not a great distance from hence, but it is far enough to judge of the speed you can make in going and returning. But because it is not possible for the eye to follow you so far, as a proof that you have been there, I expect that you will bring me a branch of a palm-tree that grows at the bottom of the hill.”
The emperor of Persia had no sooner declared his will than the Hindoo turned a peg, which was in the hollow of the horse’s neck, just by the pummel of the saddle; and in an instant the horse rose off the ground and carried his rider into the air with the rapidity of lightning to such a height, that those who had the strongest sight could not discern him, to the admiration of the emperor and all the spectators. Within less than a quarter of an hour they saw him returning with the palm branch in his hand; but before he descended, he took two or three turns in the air over the spot, amid the acclamations of all the people; then alighted on the spot whence he had set off, without receiving the least shock from the horse to disorder him. He dismounted, and going up to the throne, prostrated himself, and laid the branch of the palm-tree at the feet of the emperor.
The emperor, who had viewed with no less admiration than astonishment this unheard-of sight which the Hindoo had exhibited, conceived a great desire to have the horse; and as he persuaded himself that he should not find it a difficult matter to treat with the Hindoo, for whatever sum of money he should value it at, began to regard it as the most valuable thing in his treasury. “Judging of thy horse by his outward appearance,” said he to the Hindoo, “I did not think him so much worth my consideration. As you have shewn me his merits, I am obliged to you for undeceiving me; and to prove to you how much I esteem it, I will purchase him of you, if he is to be sold.”
