One thousand and one nig.., p.1323
One Thousand and One Nights, page 1323
The two friends agreed therefore to give a hundred doubloons to the poor of the great mosque. Then with the rest of their treasure they purchased a beautiful country house not far from the sea, on the coast of Punta Pescada. There they lived happily for many long years, always admired and esteemed for their mutual affection, and for the goodness of their hearts; for, strange to say, their sudden and unexpected change of fortune never served to render them callous to the poor, nor indifferent to the wants and troubles of their fellow-creatures.
VII.
THE STORY OF THE TREASURES OF BASRA.
All historians agree that the caliph Haroun-al-Raschid would have been the most perfect prince of his time, as he was also the most powerful, if he had not so often given way both to anger and to an insupportable vanity. He was always saying that no prince in the world was so generous as himself. Giafar, his chief vizir, being at last quite disgusted with his boasting, took the liberty to say to him one day, “Oh, my sovereign lord, monarch of the world, pardon your slave if he dares to represent to you that you ought not thus to praise yourself. Leave that to your subjects and the crowds of strangers who frequent your court. Content yourself with the knowledge that the former thank heaven for being born in your dominions, and that the latter congratulate themselves on having quitted their country to come and live under your laws.” Haroun was very angry at these words; he looked sternly at his vizir, and asked him if he knew any one who could be compared to himself in generosity.
“Yes, my lord,” answered Giafar, “there is in the town of Basra a young man named Aboulcassem, who, though a private individual, lives in more magnificence than kings, and without excepting even your majesty, no prince is more generous than this man.”
The caliph reddened at these words, his eyes flashed with anger. “Do you know,” he said, “that a subject who has the audacity to lie to his master merits death?”
“I have said nothing but the truth,” replied the vizir. “During my last visit to Basra I saw this Aboulcassem; I stayed at his house; my eyes, though accustomed to your treasures, were surprised at his riches, and I was charmed with the generosity of his manners.”
At these words the impetuous Haroun could no longer contain his anger. “You are most insolent,” he cried, “to place a private individual on an equality with myself! Your imprudence shall not remain unpunished.”
So saying, he made a sign for the captain of his guards to approach, and commanded him to arrest the vizir Giafar. He then went to the apartment of the princess Zobeide his wife, who grew pale with fear on seeing his irritated countenance.
“What is the matter, my lord?” said she; “what causes you to be thus agitated?”
Haroun told her all that had passed, and complained of his vizir in terms that soon made Zobeide comprehend how enraged he was with the minister. This wise princess advised him to suspend his resentment, and send some one to Basra to ascertain the truth of Giafar’s assertion; if it was false, she argued, the vizir should be punished; on the contrary, if it proved true, which she could not believe, it was not just to treat him as a criminal. This discourse calmed the fury of the caliph.
“I approve of this counsel, madam,” said he, “and will acknowledge that I owe this justice to such a minister as Giafar. I will do still more; as any other person I charged with this office might, from an aversion to my vizir, give me a false statement, I will myself go to Basra and judge of the truth of this report. I will make acquaintance with this young man, whose generosity is thus extolled; if Giafar has told me true, I will load him with benefits instead of punishing him for his frankness; but I swear he shall forfeit his life if I find he has told me a falsehood.”
As soon as Haroun had formed this resolution he thought of nothing but how to execute it. One night he secretly left the palace, mounted his horse, and left the city, not wishing any one to follow him, though Zobeide entreated him not to go alone. Arriving at Basra, he dismounted at the first caravansary he found on entering the city, the landlord of which seemed a good old man.
“Father,” said Haroun, “is it true that there is in this city a young man called Aboulcassem, who surpasses even kings in magnificence and generosity?”
“Yes, my lord,” answered the landlord; “and if I had a hundred mouths, and in each mouth a hundred tongues, I could not relate to you all his generous actions.” As the caliph had now need of some repose, he retired to rest after partaking of a slight refreshment. He was up very early in the morning, and walked about until sunrise. Then he approached a tailor’s shop and asked for the dwelling of Aboulcassem. “From what country do you come?” said the tailor; “most certainly you have never been at Basra before, or you would have heard where the lord Aboulcassem lives; why, his house is better known than the palace of the king.”
The caliph answered, “I am a stranger; I know no one in this city, and I shall be obliged if you will conduct me to this lord’s house.”
Upon that the tailor ordered one of his boys to show the caliph the way to the residence of Aboulcassem. It was a large house built of stone, with a doorway of marble and jasper. The prince entered the court, where there was a crowd of servants and liberated slaves who were amusing themselves in different ways while they awaited the orders of their master. He approached one of them and said, “Friend, I wish you would take the trouble to go to the lord Aboulcassem and tell him a stranger wishes to see him.” The domestic judged from the appearance of Haroun that he was no common man. He ran to apprise his master, who coming into the court took the stranger by the hand and conducted him to a very beautiful saloon. The caliph then told the young man, that having heard him mentioned in terms of praise, he had become desirous of seeing him, and had travelled to Basra for that purpose. Aboulcassem modestly replied to this compliment, and seating his guest on a sofa, asked of what country and profession he was, and where he lodged at Basra.
“I am a merchant of Bagdad,” replied the caliph, “and I have taken a lodging at the first caravansary I found on my arrival.”
After they had conversed for a short time there entered twelve pages bearing vases of agate and rock crystal, enriched with precious stones, and full of the most exquisite beverages. They were followed by twelve very beautiful female slaves, some carrying china bowls filled with fruit and flowers, and others golden caskets containing conserves of an exquisite flavour. The pages presented their beverages to the caliph; the prince tasted them, and though accustomed to the most delicious that could be obtained in the East, he acknowledged that he had never tasted better. As it was now near the hour for dinner, Aboulcassem conducted his guest to another room, where they found a table covered with the choicest delicacies served on dishes of massive gold. The repast finished, the young man took the caliph by the hand and led him to a third room more richly furnished than the two others. Here the slaves brought a prodigious quantity of gold vases, enriched with rubies, filled with all sorts of rare wines, and china plates containing dried sweetmeats. While the host and his guest were partaking of these delicious wines there entered singers and musicians, who commenced a concert, with which Haroun was enchanted. “I have,” he said to himself, “the most admirable voices in my palace, but I must confess they cannot bear comparison with these. I do not understand how a private individual can live in such magnificence.”
Amongst the voices there was one in particular the extraordinary sweetness of which attracted the attention of the prince, and whilst he was absorbed in listening to it Aboulcassem left the room and returned a moment after holding in one hand a wand, and in the other a little tree whose stem was of silver, the branches and leaves emeralds, and the fruit rubies. On the top of this tree was a golden peacock beautifully executed, the body of which was filled with amber, essence of aloes, and other perfumes. He placed this tree at the caliph’s feet; then striking the head of the peacock with his wand, the bird extended its wings and tail, and moved itself quickly to the right and left, whilst at each movement of its body the most odoriferous perfumes filled the apartment. The caliph was so astonished and delighted that he could not take his eyes off the tree and the peacock, and he was just going to express his admiration when Aboulcassem suddenly took them away. Haroun was offended at this, and said to himself, “What does all this mean? It appears to me this young man does not merit so much praise. He takes away the tree and the peacock when he sees me occupied in looking at them more than he likes. Is he afraid I want him to make me a present? I fear Giafar is mistaken in calling him a generous man.” He was thus thinking when Aboulcassem returned accompanied by a little page as beautiful as the sun. This lovely child was dressed in gold brocade covered with pearls and diamonds. He held in his hand a cup made of one single ruby, and filled with wine of a purple colour. He approached the caliph, and prostrating himself to the ground, presented the cup. The prince extended his hand to receive it, but, wonderful to relate, he perceived on giving back the cup to the page, that though he had emptied the cup, it was still quite full. He put it again to his lips and emptied it to the very last drop. He then placed it again in the hands of the page, and at the same moment saw it filling without any one approaching it. The surprise of Haroun was extreme at this wonderful circumstance, which made him forget the tree and the peacock. He asked how it was accomplished. “My lord,” said Aboulcassem, “it is the work of an ancient sage who was acquainted with most of the secrets of nature;” and then, taking the page by the hand, he precipitately left the apartment. The caliph was indignant at this behaviour. “I see how it is,” said he, “this young man has lost his senses. He brings me all these curiosities of his own accord, he presents them to my view, and when he perceives my admiration, he instantly removes his treasures. I never experienced treatment so ridiculous or uncourteous. Ah, Giafar! I thought you a better judge of men.”
In this manner they continued amusing themselves till sunset. Then Haroun said to the young man, “Oh, generous Aboulcassem, I am confused with the reception you have given me; permit me now to retire and leave you to repose.” The young lord of Basra not wishing to inconvenience his guest, politely saluted him, and conducted him to the door of the house, apologizing for not having received him in a more magnificent style. “I quite acknowledge,” said the caliph on returning to his caravansary, “that for magnificence Aboulcassem surpasses kings, but for generosity, there my vizir was wrong in placing him in comparison with myself; for what present has he made me during my visit? I was lavish in my praises of the tree, the cup, and the page, and I should have thought my admiration would have induced him to offer me, at least, one of these things. No, this man is ostentatious; he feels a pleasure in displaying his riches to the eyes of strangers. And why? Only to satisfy his pride and vanity. In reality he is a miser, and I ought not to pardon Giafar for thus deceiving me.” Whilst making these disagreeable reflections on his minister, he arrived at the caravansary. But what was his astonishment on finding there silken carpets, magnificent tents, a great number of servants, slaves, horses, mules, camels, and besides all these, the tree and the peacock, and the page with his cup? The domestics prostrated themselves before him, and presented a roll of silk paper, on which were written these words, “Dear and amiable guest, I have not, perhaps, shown you the respect which is your due; I pray you to forget any appearance of neglect in my manner of receiving you, and do not distress me by refusing the little presents I have sent you. As to the tree, the peacock, the page, and the cup, since they please you, they are yours already, for any thing that delights my guests ceases to be mine from that instant.” When the caliph had finished reading this letter, he was astounded at the liberality of Aboulcassem, and remembered how wrongly he had judged the young man. “A thousand blessings,” cried he, “on my vizir Giafar! He has caused me to be undeceived. Ah, Haroun, never again boast of being the most magnificent and generous of men! one of your subjects surpasses you. But how is a private individual able to make such presents? I ought to have asked where he amassed such riches; I was wrong not to have questioned him on this point: I must not return to Bagdad without investigating this affair. Besides, it concerns me to know why there is a man in my dominions who leads a more princely life than myself. I must see him again, and try to discover by what means he has acquired such an immense fortune.”
Impatient to satisfy his curiosity, he left his new servants in the caravansary, and returned immediately to the young man’s residence. When he found himself in his presence he said, “Oh, too amiable Aboulcassem, the presents you have made me are so valuable, that I fear I cannot accept them without abusing your generosity. Permit me to send them back before I return to Bagdad, and publish to the world your magnificence and generous hospitality.” “My lord,” answered the young man with a mortified air, “you certainly must have had reason to complain of the unhappy Aboulcassem; I fear some of his actions have displeased you, since you reject his presents; you would not have done me this injury, if you were satisfied with me.”
“No,” replied the prince, “heaven is my witness that I am enchanted with your politeness; but your presents are too costly; they surpass those of kings, and if I dared tell you what I think, you would be less prodigal with your riches, and remember that they may soon be exhausted.”
Aboulcassem smiled at these words and said to the caliph, “My lord, I am very glad to learn that it is not to punish me for having committed any fault against yourself that you wished to refuse my presents; and now to oblige you to accept them, I will tell you that every day I can make the same and even more magnificent ones without inconveniencing myself. I see,” added he, “that this astonishes you, but you will cease to be surprised when I have told you all the adventures which have happened to me. It is necessary that I should thus confide in you.”
Upon this he conducted Haroun to a room a thousand times richer and more ornamented than any of the others. The most exquisite essences perfumed this apartment, in which was a throne of gold placed on the richest carpets. Haroun could not believe he was in the house of a subject; he imagined he must be in the abode of a prince infinitely more powerful than himself. The young man made him mount the throne, and placing himself by his side, commenced the history of his life.
HISTORY OF ABOULCASSEM.
I am the son of a jeweller of Cairo, named Abdelaziz. He possessed such immense riches, that fearing to draw upon himself the envy or avarice of the sultan of Egypt, he quitted his native country and established himself at Basra, where he married the only daughter of the richest merchant in that city. I am the only child of that marriage, so that inheriting the estates of both my parents I became possessed on their death of a very splendid fortune. But I was young, I liked extravagance, and having wherewith to exercise my liberal propensities, or rather my prodigality, I lived with so much profusion, that in less than three years my fortune was dissipated. Then, like all who repent of their foolish conduct, I made the most promising resolutions for the future.
After the life I had led at Basra, I thought it better to leave that place, for it seemed to me my misery would be more supportable among strangers. Accordingly I sold my house, and left the city before daybreak. When it was light I perceived a caravan of merchants who had encamped on a spot of ground near me. I joined them, and as they were on their road to Bagdad, where I also wished to go, I departed with them; I arrived there without accident, but soon found myself in a very miserable situation. I was without money, and of all my large fortune there remained but one gold sequin. In order to do something for a living I changed my sequin into aspres, and purchased some preserved apples, sweetmeats, balms, and roses. With these I went every day to the house of a merchant where many persons of rank and others were accustomed to assemble and converse together. I presented to them in a basket what I had to sell. Each took what he liked, and never failed to remunerate me, so that by this little commerce I contrived to live very comfortably. One day as I was as usual selling flowers at the merchant’s house, there was seated in a corner of the room an old man, of whom I took no notice, and on perceiving that I did not address him, he called me and said, “My friend, how comes it that you do not offer your merchandise to me as well as the others? Do you take me for a dishonest man, or imagine that my purse is empty?”
“My lord,” answered I, “I pray you pardon me. All that I have is at your service, I ask nothing for it.” At the same time I offered him my basket; he took some perfume, and told me to sit down by him. I did so, and he asked me a number of questions, who I was, and what was my name.
“Excuse me satisfying your curiosity,” said I, sighing; “I cannot do so without reopening wounds which time is beginning to heal.”
These words, or the tone in which I uttered them, prevented the old man from questioning me further. He changed the discourse, and after a long conversation, on rising to depart he took out his purse and gave me ten gold sequins. I was greatly surprised at this liberality. The wealthiest lords to whom I had been accustomed to present my basket had never given me even one sequin, and I could not tell what to make of this man.
On the morrow, when I returned to the merchants, I again found my old friend; and for many days he continued to attract my attention. At length, one day, as I was addressing him after he had taken a little balm from my basket, he made me again sit by him, and pressed me so earnestly to relate my history, that I could not refuse him. I informed him of all that had happened to me; after this confidence he said:
