One thousand and one nig.., p.496
One Thousand and One Nights, page 496
When the king heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said, “Of a truth, destiny is forewritten to all creatures, and I will not accept aught that is said against my vizier the loyal counsellor.” And he bade him go to his house.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
The Twentieth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king let call his vizier and he presented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the hearing of the [promised] story. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king. that
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
STORY OF THE WEAVER WHO BECAME A PHYSICIAN BY HIS WIFE’S COMMANDMENT.
There was once, in the land of Fars, a man who took to wife a woman higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage, but she had no guardian to preserve her from want. It misliked her to marry one who was beneath her; nevertheless, she married him, because of need, and took of him a bond in writing to the effect that he would still be under her commandment and forbiddance and would nowise gainsay her in word or deed. Now the man was a weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife ten thousand dirhems, [in case he should make default in the condition aforesaid].
On this wise they abode a long while till one day the wife went out in quest of water, whereof she had need, and espied a physician who had spread a carpet in the Thereon he had set out great store of drugs and implements of medicine and he was speaking and muttering [charms], whilst the folk flocked to him and compassed him about on every side. The weaver’s wife marvelled at the largeness of the physician’s fortune and said in herself, ‘Were my husband thus, he would have an easy life of it and that wherein we are of straitness and misery would be enlarged unto him.’
Then she returned home, troubled and careful; and when her husband saw her on this wise, he questioned her of her case and she said to him, ‘Verily, my breast is straitened by reason of thee and of the simpleness of thine intent. Straitness liketh me not and thou in thy [present] craft gaiuest nought; so either do thou seek out a craft other than this or pay me my due and let me go my way.’ Her husband chid her for this and admonished her; but she would not be turned from her intent and said to him, ‘Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and leam from him what he saith.’ Quoth he, ‘Let not thy heart be troubled: I will go every day to the physician’s assembly.’
So he fell to resorting daily to the physician and committing to memory his sayings and that which he spoke of jargon, till he had gotten a great matter by heart, and all this he studied throughly and digested it. Then he returned to his wife and said to her, ‘I have committed the physician’s sayings to memory and have learned his fashion of muttering and prescribing and applying remedies and have gotten by heart the names of the remedies and of all the diseases, and there abideth nought [unaccomplished] of thy commandment. What wilt thou have me do now?’ Quoth she, ‘Leave weaving and open thyself a physician’s shop.’ But he answered, ‘The people of my city know me and this affair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so come, let us go out from this city and get us to a strange land and [there] live.’ And she said, ‘Do as thou wilt.’
So he arose and taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with the price drugs and simples and wrought himself a carpet, with which they set out and journeyed to a certain village, where they took up their abode. Then the man donned a physician’s habit and fell to going round about the hamlets and villages and country parts; and he began to earn his living and make gain. Their affairs prospered and their case was bettered; wherefore they praised God for their present ease and the village became to them a home.
[On this wise he abode a pretty while] and the days ceased not and the nights to transport him from country to country, till he came to the land of the Greeks and lighted down in a city of the cities thereof, wherein was Galen the Sage; but the weaver knew him not, nor was he ware who he was. So he went forth, according to his wont, in quest of a place where the folk might assemble together, and hired Galen’s courtyard. There he spread his carpet and setting out thereon his drugs and instruments of medicine, praised himself and his skill and vaunted himself of understanding such as none but he might claim.
Galen heard that which he avouched of his understanding and it was certified unto him and established in his mind that the man was a skilled physician of the physicians of the Persians and [he said in himself], ‘Except he had confidence in his knowledge and were minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not sought the door of my house neither spoken that which he hath spoken.’ And concern gat hold upon Galen and doubt. Then he looked out upon the weaver and addressed himself to see what he should do, whilst the folk began to flock to him and set out to him their ailments, and he would answer them thereof [and prescribe for them], hitting the mark one while and missing it another, so that there appeared unto Galen of his fashion nothing whereby his mind might be assured that he had formed a just opinion of his skill.
Presently, up came a woman with a phial of urine, and when the [mock] physician saw the phial afar off, he said to her, ‘This is the urine of a man, a stranger.’ ‘Yes,’ answered she; and he continued, ‘Is he not a Jew and is not his ailment indigestion?’ ‘Yes,’ replied the woman, and the folk marvelled at this; wherefore the man was magnified in Galen’s eyes, for that he heard speech such as was not of the usage of physicians, seeing that they know not urine but by shaking it and looking into it anear neither know they a man’s water from a woman’s water, nor a stranger’s [from a countryman’s], nor a Jew’s from a Sherifs. Then said the woman, ‘What is the remedy?’ Quoth the weaver, ‘Pay down the fee.’ So she paid him a dirhem and he gave her medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would aggravate the patient’s malady.
When Galen saw what appeared to him of the [mock] physician’s incapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them fetch the other, with all his gear and drugs. So they brought him into his presence on the speediest wise, and when Galen saw him before him, he said to him, ‘Knowest thou me?’ ‘ No,’ answered the other, ‘nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.’ Quoth the sage, ‘Dost thou know Galen?’ And the weaver said, ‘No.’ Then said Galen, ‘What prompted thee to that which thou dost?’ So he related to him his story and gave him to know of the dowry and the obligation by which he was bound with regard to his wife, whereat Galen marvelled and certified himself of the matter of the dower.
Then he bade lodge him near himself and was bountiful to him and took him apart and said to him, ‘Expound to me the story of the phial and whence then knewest that the water therein was that of a man, and he a stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was indigestion?’ ‘ It is well,’ answered the weaver. ‘ Thou must know that we people of Persia are skilled in physiognomy and I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and tall. Now these attributes belong to women who are enamoured of a man and are distraught for love of him; moreover, I saw her consumed [with anxiety]; wherefore I knew that the patient was her husband. As for his strangerhood, I observed that the woman’s attire differed from that of the people of the city, wherefore I knew that she was a stranger; and in the mouth of the phial I espied a yellow rag, whereby I knew that the patient was a Jew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to me on the first day [of the week]; and it is the Jews’ custom to take pottages and meats that have been dressed overnight and eat them on the Sabbath day, hot and cold, and they exceed in eating; wherefore indigestion betideth them. On this wise I was directed and guessed that which thou hast heard.’
When Galen heard this, he ordered the weaver the amount of his wife’s dowry and bade him pay it to her and divorce her. Moreover, he forbade him from returning to the practice of physic and warned him never again to take to wife a woman of better condition than himself; and he gave him his spending-money and bade him return to his [former] craft. Nor,” added the vizier, “is this more extraordinary or rarer than the story of the two sharpers who cozened each his fellow.”
When King Shah Bekht heard this, he said in himself, “How like is this story to my present case with this vizier, who hath not his like!” Then he bade him depart to his own house and come again at eventide.
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
The Twenty-First Night of the Month.
When came the night, the vizier presented himself before the king, who bade him relate the [promised] story. So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Know, Out
John Payne’s translation: detailed table of contents
STORY OF THE TWO SHARPERS WHO CHEATED EACH HIS FELLOW.
There was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man, [by name El Merouzi,] who was a sharper and plagued the folk with his knavish tricks, and he was renowned in all quarters [for roguery]. [He went out one day], carrying a load of sheep’s dung, and took an oath that he would not return to his lodging till he had sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in another city a second sharper, [by name Er Razi,] one of its people, who [went out the same day], bearing a load of goat’s dung, which he had sworn that he would not sell but at the price of dried figs.
So each of them fared on with that which was with him and gave not over going till they met in one of the inns and each complained to the other of that which he had abidden of travel [in quest of custom] and of the lack of demand for his wares. Now each of them had it in mind to cheat his fellow; so El Merouzi said to Er Razi, ‘Wilt thou sell me that?’ ‘Yes,’ answered he, and the other continued, ‘And wilt thou buy that which is with me?’ Er Razi assented; so they agreed upon this and each of them sold his fellow that which was with him [in exchange for the other’s ware]; after which they bade each other farewell and parted. As soon as they were out of each other’s sight, they examined their loads, to see what was therein, and one of them found that he had a load of sheep’s dung and the other that he had a load of goat’s dung; whereupon each of them turned back in quest of his fellow. They met in the inn aforesaid and laughed at each other and cancelling their bargain, agreed to enter into partnership and that all that they had of money and other good should be in common between them, share and share alike.
Then said Er Razi to El Merouzi, ‘Come with me to my city, for that it is nearer [than thine].’ So he went with him, and when he came to his lodging, he said to his wife and household and neighbours, ‘This is my brother, who hath been absent in the land of Khorassan and is come back.’ And he abode with him in all honour and worship three days’ space. On the fourth day, Er Razi said to him, ‘Know, O my brother, that I purpose to do somewhat’ ‘What is it?’ asked El Merouzi. Quoth the other, ‘I mean to feign myself dead and do thou go to the market and hire two porters and a bier. [Then come back and take me up and go round about the streets and markets with me and collect alms on my account.]
Accordingly El Merouzi repaired to the market and fetching that which he sought, returned to Er Razi’s house, where he found the latter cast down in the vestibule, with his beard tied and his eyes shut; and indeed, his colour was paled and his belly blown out and his limbs relaxed. So he deemed him in truth dead and shook him; but he spoke not; and he took a knife and pricked him in the legs, but he stirred not. Then said Er Razi, ‘What is this, O fool?’ And El Merouzi answered, ‘Methought thou wast dead in very sooth.’ Quoth Er Razi, ‘Get thee to seriousness and leave jesting.’ So he took him up and went with him to the market and collected [alms] for him that day till eventide, when he carried him back to his lodging and waited till the morrow.
Next morning, he again took up the bier and went round with it as before, in quest of alms. Presently, the master of police, who was of those who had given alms on account of the supposed dead man on the previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on the porters and beat them and took the [supposed] dead body, saying, ‘I will bury him and earn the reward [of God].’ So his men took him up and carrying him to the prefecture, fetched grave-diggers, who dug him a grave. Then they bought him a shroud and perfumes and fetched an old man of the quarter, to wash him. So he recited over him [the appointed prayers and portions of the Koran] and laying him on the bench, washed him and shrouded him. After he had shrouded him, he voided; so he renewed the washing and went away to make his ablutions, whilst all the folk departed, likewise, to make the [obligatory] ablution, previously to the funeral.
When the dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a Satan, and donning the washer’s clothes, took the bowls and water-can and wrapped them up in the napkins. Then be took his shroud under his arm and went out. The doorkeepers thought that he was the washer and said to him, ‘Hast thou made an end of the washing, so we may tell the Amir?’ ‘Yes,’ answered the sharper and made off to his lodging, where he found El Merouzi soliciting his wife and saying to her, ‘Nay, by thy life, thou wilt never again look upon his face; for that by this time he is buried. I myself escaped not from them but after travail and trouble, and if he speak, they will put him to death.’ Quoth she, ‘And what wilt thou have of me?’ ‘Accomplish my desire of thee,’ answered he, ‘and heal my disorder, for I am better than thy husband.’ And he fell a-toying with her.
When Er Razi heard this, he said, ‘Yonder wittol lusteth after my wife; but I will do him a mischief.’ Then he rushed in upon them, and when El Merouzi saw him, he marvelled at him and said to him, ‘How didst thou make thine escape?’ So he told him the trick he had played and they abode talking of that which they had collected from the folk [by way of alms], and indeed they had gotten great store of money. Then said El Merouzi, ‘Verily, mine absence hath been prolonged and fain would I return to my own country.’ Quoth Er Rasi,’ As thou wilt;’ and the other said, ‘Let us divide the money we have gotten and do thou go with me to my country, so I may show thee my tricks and my fashions.’ ‘Come to-morrow,’ replied Er Razi, ‘and we will divide the money.’
So El Merouzi went away and the other turned to his wife and said to her, ‘We have gotten us great plenty of money, and yonder dog would fain take the half of it; but this shall never be, for that my mind hath been changed against him, since I heard him solicit thee; wherefore I purpose to play him a trick and enjoy all the money; and do not thou cross me.’ ‘ It is well,’ answered she, and he said to her, ‘[To-morrow] at day-peep I will feign myself dead and do thou cry out and tear thy hair, whereupon the folk will flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me, and when the folk are gone away [from the burial-place], do thou dig down to me and take me; and have no fear for me, for I can abide two days in the tomb [without hurt].’ And she answered, ‘Do what thou wilt.’
So, when it was the foredawn hour, she tied his beard and spreading a veil over him, cried out, whereupon the people of the quarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came El Merouzi, for the division of the money, and hearing the crying [of the mourners], said, ‘What is to do?” Quoth they, ‘Thy brother is dead;’ and he said in himself, ‘The accursed fellow putteth a cheat on me, so he may get all the money for himself, but I will do with him what shall soon bring him to life again.’ Then he rent the bosom of his gown and uncovered his head, weeping and saying, ‘Alas, my brother! Alas, my chief! Alas, my lord!’ And he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him. Then he accosted Er Razi’s wife and said to her, ‘How came his death about?’ ‘I know not,’ answered she, ‘except that, when I arose in the morning, I found him dead.’ Moreover, he questioned her of the money and good that was with her, but she said, ‘I have no knowledge of this and no tidings.’
So he sat down at the sharper’s head, and said to him, ‘Know, O Razi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days and their nights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So arise and be not a fool.’ But he answered him not and El Merouzi [drew his knife and] fell to sticking it into the other’s hands and feet, thinking to make him move; but [he stirred not and] he presently grew weary of this and concluded that the sharper was dead in good earnest. [However, he still misdoubted of the case] and said in himself, ‘This fellow is dissembling, so he may enjoy all the money.’ Therewith he addressed himself to prepare him [for burial] and bought him perfumes and what [not else] was needed. Then they brought him to the washing-place and El Merouzi came to him and heating water till it boiled and bubbled and a third of it was wasted, fell to pouring it on his skin, so that it turned red and blue and blistered; but he abode still on one case [and stirred not].
So they wrapped him in the shroud and set him on the bier. Then they took up his bier and bearing him to the burial-place, laid him in the grave and threw the earth over him; after which the folk dispersed, but El Merouzi and the widow abode by the tomb, weeping, and gave not over sitting till sundown, when the woman said to him, ‘Come, let us go to the house, for this weeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.’ ‘By Allah,’ answered the sharper, ‘I will not budge hence till I have slept and waked by this tomb ten days, with their nights!’ When she heard this his speech, she feared lest he should keep his word and his oath, and so her husband perish; but she said in herself, ‘This fellow dissembleth: if I go away and return to my house, he will abide by him a little while and go away.’ And El Merouzi said to her, ‘Arise, thou, and go away.’
