The Bakhtyār Nāma 24Notes and Illustrations (part 2)
18
Literature · Romance
The Bakhtyār Nāma 24
Notes and Illustrations (part 2)
OuseleyEnglish
Page 24. “Most of the houses were washed away.”—Probably owing to the non-adhesive qualities of the mortar generally employed in the construction of Persian houses: a mixture, half of mud, one fourth of lime, and the rest ashes of burnt straw and rubbish.
Page 25. “Trees and running streams.”—The dryness of the Persian climate and the deficiency of rivers have exercised in ancient (Polybius, lib. 10, 25) as in modern times the ingenuity of the natives in the discovery of springs.—In the Story of Abū Temām (page 98) a city is also described as “adorned with gardens and running streams.” It was a saying of Muhammad that “three things fortify the sight: looking at verdure, at running water, and at a handsome face.”
Page 25. Dihkān is a compound word, from dih, a village, and khān, lord, or chief.
Page 25. “Erected a summer-house”—the text adds, “and on it a lofty watch-tower.”
Page 25. “The stranger was entertained with politeness and hospitality.”—The Kur’ān (iv, 40) enjoins the believer to “serve God ... and show kindness unto ... your neighbour who is a stranger ... and the traveller” (ibnu-’s sabīl: son of the road). The practice of hospitality among the pre-Islamite Arabs is too well known to require more than passing mention, and reference to Professor Lee’s note on Job xxi, 16.
Page 25. “A suit of his clothes”; his own jubba and dastār. The jubba is a vest with cotton quilted between the outside and the lining; the dastār is the sash, or fine muslin cloth, wrapped round the turban.
Page 25. “Account of his property” &c.—signet, chattels, and ledger—“and said, ‘you must manifest your zeal in the seasons of sowing and of harvest, and become the mushrif of my property.’” A mushrif is an officer of the treasury, who authenticates accounts and writings. The dihkān gave him his signet, in order that he might transact his business with full authority. “Seals, or signets,” says Dr H. H. Wilson, “were from the earliest periods commonly used in the East. Ahasuerus takes his signet off his hand and gives it, first to Haman, and again to Mordecai; and Herodotus notices that each of the Babylonians wore a seal-ring. The Greeks and Romans had their rings curiously engraved with devices, and that cast by Polycrates into the sea was the work of an engraver whose name the historian has thought not unworthy of commemoration. The use of the seal amongst the Orientals at the present day is not, as with us, to secure an envelope, but to verify letters and documents in place of a written signature. Amongst the natives of Hindūstān, both Muhammadan and Hindū, the seal is engraved with the name of the wearer, and the surface being smeared superficially only with ink, the application of the seal to the paper leaves the letters which are cut in the stone white on a black ground. Such also was the manner in which the seals of the Greeks and Romans were applied.” Lane, in his Modern Egyptians, says: “On the little finger of the right hand is worn a seal-ring (Khātim), which is generally of silver, with a cornelian, or other stone, upon which is engraved the wearer’s name; the name is accompanied by the words ‘his servant’—signifying the servant, or worshipper, of God—and often by other words expressive of the person’s trust in God, &c. (see St. John’s Gospel iii, 33, and Exodus xxxix, 30). The Prophet disapproved of gold; therefore few Muslims wear gold rings; but the women have various ornaments (rings, bracelets &c.) of that precious metal. The impression of the seal-ring is considered as more valid than the sign-manual. Therefore giving the ring to another person is the utmost mark of confidence.—See Genesis xli, 42.”
Page 27. “Bit the finger of amazement.”—Biting the hand or finger is a common mode in the East of manifesting surprise, grief, or anger. Thus in the Kur’ān, xxv, 29: “On that day the unjust person shall bite his hands for anguish;” and iii, 119: “When they assemble together privately they bite their fingers’-ends out of wrath against you.” In the Gulistān of Sa`dī, i, 4: “The King seized the hand of amazement with his teeth;” again, v, 19: “Thine enemy bites the back of his hand through vexation;” and again, vii, 19: “The fingers of astonishment were between their teeth.” In one of the beautiful poems of Bahāu-’d-Dīn Zuhayr, of Egypt (A.D. 1186–1258), elegantly translated by Professor E. H. Palmer:
When she passed me without speaking, I declare,
I could almost bite my hand off with despair.
And in the Turkish poem of Khusrev and Shīrīn, by Shayki, ob. A.D. 1426 (Mr Gibb’s Ottoman Poems, p. 6):
No power was left him, neither sport nor pleasure,
He bit his finger, wildered beyond measure.
Page 27. “Driven forth from the village”; the text adds; “and they deprived him of whatever they had given.”
Page 27. “For the sake of God:” a common phrase among Muslims. A rather humorous example of its use occurs in the Gulistān (chap, iv, tale 14): A harsh-voiced man was reading the Kur’ān in a loud tone. A pious man passed by him, and said: “What is thy monthly stipend?”—“Nothing,” he replied.—“Why then,” he inquired, “dost thou give thyself all this trouble?”—“I read for the sake of God,” he replied.—“For God sake, then, don’t read,” said he.
Page 27. “A pearl of such exquisite beauty,” &c.—In the East it is popularly believed that the pearl is formed in the oyster from a rain-drop: Sa’dī, in the fourth book of his Bustān, has some beautiful verses on this notion, in which he inculcates the practice of humility. Pearls are called marvārīd, “production of light,” and, usually when they are unpierced, lū’lū’, “luminous,” “brilliant.” They are divided into twelve classes, each having a distinctive name, according to their “water” or lustre; the first class being called shahvār, “the regal,” the clearest, purest, and most lustrous. Pearls are also divided into twelve classes, according to shape. They are further divided, in respect of size, into fifteen classes, according to the number of holes in the different sieves through which they are passed, from the smallest, of which twelve hundred weigh a miskal, up to the largest, of which forty weigh a miskal. The best pearl-fisheries are at Ceylon, and in the Persian Gulf, at Bahrayn, Kīsh, and Sharak; but the Arabian pearls are less prized than the Indian. Their colour and quality are said to depend on the bottom of the sea where they are produced: in black slime they are dark; in shallow waters, yellowish.—Tavernier mentions a remarkable pearl found at Katifa, in Arabia, the fishery probably alluded to by Pliny (Nat. Hist. b. ix, c. 54), which he purchased for £10,000 of our money! It is said to be now in the possession of the Shah of Persia.
Page 28. “He put three of the pearls into his mouth and the other three among his clothes.”—It is customary for travellers and others in the East to conceal their money and valuables about their clothes and in the folds of their turbans. Many Oriental stories illustrate this practice. For example, in the tale of the Poor Ropemaker (Arabian Nights—vol. vi, of Jonathan Scott’s edition), he receives a sum of money from a benevolent stranger, and having laid out a moiety of it in material for his trade, he places the remainder within the folds of his turban-cloth, but unluckily a bird snatches it off his head and flies away with it. And in the Talmud there is a story of a poor Hebrew, named Joseph, who paid great respect to the Sabbath. This man had a wealthy neighbour, who was a firm believer in judicial astrology, and having been told by a sagacious professor of the science that all his riches should one day become the property of the Sabbath-observing Joseph, he straightway sold his estate and invested the proceeds in a large diamond, which he secretly sewed within his turban, and departed in a vessel for some distant country—thus preventing, as he fondly imagined, the verification of the astrologer’s prediction. But his precautions were of no avail, for while standing on the deck of the vessel, a sudden gust of wind carried his turban, with all his wealth, into the sea. What became of the ruined man after this misfortune we are not informed. But we are told that, some time after this accident, the pious Joseph went to the market and bought a fish to furnish his table on the Sabbath eve. On opening the fish, the diamond which his old neighbour had lost with his turban was found in its stomach—and thus was the good man’s strict observance of the Sabbath rewarded, and the astrologer’s prediction fulfilled to the letter.
Page 28. The unlucky Merchant’s adventure with the covetous and dishonest jeweller finds a curious parallel in an incident in the “Story of the Jackal, the Barber, and the Brāhman,” one of the charming fairy tales in Miss Frere’s Old Deccan Days. The poor Brāhman, however, though robbed of the precious stones he offers to the jeweller for sale, escapes home all safe, unlike the Merchant of our story. Possibly the incident in both tales had a common origin;—yet the “roguery of villanous man” (to employ honest Jack Falstaff’s phrase) is pretty much alike in all ages and countries!
Page 29. “They distributed some money among those who were confined.”—Alms are recommended in many passages of the Kur’ān: “Pay your legal alms,” ii, 43; “alms are to be distributed to the poor and the needy ... for the redemption of captives, insolvent debtors, and, for religion’s sake, unto the traveller,” ix, 53, 60. Alms are of two kinds: (1) obligatory (or zakāt), ii, 172; and (2) voluntary (or sadakāt), as in the present instance. In scripture we find a trace of the same doctrine: see Daniel iv, 27. The Khalif `Omar Ibn `Abdu-’l-`Azīz used to say: “Prayer carries us half-way to God; Fasting brings us to the door of the palace; and Alms procure us admission.” And assuredly no Eastern moralist has more frequently or more impressively and beautifully inculcated the duty of alms-giving and of liberality than Sa`dī. He tells us in the Gulistān, ii, 49, that on the monument of Bahrām Gūr, a famous Persian King, was written: “The liberal hand is better than the strong arm;” and adds: “Distribute in alms the tithe of thy wealth; for the more the husbandman loppeth off the exuberance of the vine, the more it will yield of grapes.” And in his Bustān, or Fruit-Garden, b. ii, he says: “Bestow thy gold and thy wealth while they are thine; for when thou art gone they will be no longer in thy power.... Distribute thy treasure readily to-day, for to-morrow the key may no longer be in thy hand.... Exert thyself to cast a covering over the poor, that God’s own veil may be a covering for thee.”
Page 30. “When he had related the story of the Merchant and of the pearls which they had given him”—the text adds, “and the other five divers had confirmed what he said.”
Page 30. “He was then led away to execution; and the King caused to be proclaimed throughout the city,” &c. So, too, in the Thousand and One Nights, the Barber relates how his Fourth Brother was punished with a hundred lashes, “after which they mounted him upon a camel, and proclaimed before him: ‘This is the recompense of him who breaketh into men’s houses.’” Morier, in his Second Journey, gives a graphic description of the punishment of Muhammad Zamān Khān, governor of Astrābād, who, in 1814, “entered into a league with the Turkmāns, disavowed the King’s authority, and even made pretensions to the royal power and prerogative.” The King offered a reward for his capture; and the people of Astrābād surrounded the traitor’s palace, forced their way into the room where he was seated, seized and bound him, and carried him before the King. “When he had reached the camp, the King ordered the chief of his camel-artillery to put a mock-crown upon the rebel’s head, armlets on his arms, a sword by his side; to mount him upon an ass, with his face towards the tail and the tail in his hand; then to parade him throughout the camp, and to proclaim: ‘This is he who wished to be King!’ After this was over, and the people had mocked and insulted him, he was brought before the King, who called for the looties and ordered them to turn him into ridicule by making him dance and perform antics against his will. He then ordered that whoever chose might spit in his face. After this he received the bastinado on the soles of his feet, which was administered by the chiefs of his own tribe; and some time after he had his eyes put out.—The strong coincidence,” adds Morier, “between these details and the most awfully affecting part of our own scripture history is a striking illustration of the permanence of Eastern manners.”
Page 30. “Appointed him keeper of the treasury.”—The sudden elevation of persons from a humble and even distressed condition to places of great dignity and wealth has ever been a characteristic of the absolute monarchs of Eastern countries, as well as the degradation and ruin, frequently from mere caprice, and seldom with any justification, of men of the highest rank. The most remarkable instance of the many which Oriental history presents is the execrable conduct of the Khalif Hārūnu-’r-Rāshīd, so undeservedly celebrated in the Thousand and One Nights, in murdering his principal Vizier Ja`far and utterly ruining the other members of the noble house of Barmak (the Barmecides of our common translation of the Arabian Nights), all of whom were as famed for their unbounded liberality as for their brilliant abilities. An interesting account of the Barmakis and their ruin is given in Dr Jonathan Scott’s Tales, Anecdotes, &c., from the Arabic and Persian.
Page 32. “Put out the Merchant’s eyes.”—A too common and barbarous punishment in the East. In Turkey a needle was used for this purpose in the case of state prisoners. The Arabian poet-hero `Antar is said to have blinded his implacable and treacherous enemy Wezār by passing a red-hot sword-blade close before his eyes. Years afterwards the blinded chief executed poetical justice by slaying `Antar with a poisoned arrow, which he shot at him on the bank of the Euphrates.
In Cazotte’s version this story is entitled “The Obstinate Man,” perhaps more appropriately than our “Ill-fated Merchant,” since his own wrong-headedness was the main cause of his misfortunes. His place of abode is Bagdād, not Basra. The divers give him ten pearls. The jeweller, having been lately robbed of some pearls, believes Kaskas (such is the man’s name) to be the thief, and accordingly he accuses him; and when the latter is proved to be innocent, the jeweller is punished with two hundred blows of the bastinado. The catastrophe is very differently related: One day he observed in the apartment which had been assigned to him, a door walled-up and concealed by a slight covering of mastic, which was now so much wasted by the effects of time that it crumbled into dust on the slightest touch. Without any exertion of strength, he opened this door and entered unthinkingly into a rich apartment entirely unknown to him, but which he found to be in the interior of the palace. Hardly had he advanced two or three steps when he was perceived by the chief of the eunuchs, who instantly reported what he had seen to the King. The monarch came immediately to the spot. The fragments of the mastic remained upon the ground to show that the door had been forced open, and the stupid amazement of Kaskas completed the appearance of his guilt. “Wretch!” said the King, “dost thou thus repay my favours? My justice saved thee, when I believed thee innocent; now thou art guilty, and I condemn thee to lose thy sight.” The imprudent Kaskas durst not even attempt to justify himself, but was immediately delivered into the hands of the executioner, of whom the only favour he asked was, that he would give him his eyes when he had torn them from their sockets. He went groping through the streets of the capital with them in his hands, crying: “Behold, all ye good people who hear me, what the unfortunate Kaskas has gained by striving against the decrees of Destiny, and despising the advice of his friends!”
NOTES ON CHAPTER III.
Page 33. “Expressed many apprehensions.”—The text gives the address of the Third Vizier as follows: “I am apprehensive lest the affair of Bakhtyār should be known in the out-lying provinces of the world [kingdom], and reaching the ears of sovereigns, occasion scandal, an evil repute arise therefrom. Before this story of Bakhtyār become the common talk, it is expedient to put him to death.”
Page 33. “He petitioned for mercy:” he cried, al-amān!—quarter!—pardon! Byron’s couplet in the Giaour has rendered this word familiar to English readers:
Resigned carbine or ataghān,
Nor ever raised the craven cry, Amaun!
Page 33. “If a king punish without due investigation.”—A Hindū dramatist says:
Though the commands of royalty pervade
The world, yet sovereigns should remember,
The light of justice must direct their path.
And Sa`di, in his Bustān, b. I, regarding the duties of a king, says: “If thou sheddest blood, it must not be done without a decree.” But there is too much reason to believe that Eastern monarchs have seldom been guided by the law in administering punishment. Many of the Muslim princes of Northern Africa, in particular, have slain even favourite attendants, from sheer wantonness and love of bloodshed.
Page 34. Aleppo.—The Berica of the Greeks; Aleppo is the Italian form of Hālab, the native name. On the fall of Palmyra, Hālabu-’s-Shabha (Hālab the ash-coloured) became the grand emporium for the productions of Persia and India, conveyed by caravans from Bagdād and Basra to be shipped at Iskenderūn, or Latakia, for the different ports of Europe. Under the Greek sovereigns of Syria, Aleppo acquired great wealth and consequence, and flourished still more under the Roman Emperors. An aqueduct, constructed before the time of Constantine, conveys a plentiful supply of water from the springs; and the mosques Jāmī, Zacharī, and Halawé, originally Christian churches, are fine specimens of the ancient Roman style, the latter built by the Empress Helena. To the peculiar quality of the water of the Kuwayk (ancient Chalus), which irrigates its far-famed gardens, is ascribed the ring-worm (hābala-’s-sina), which attacks the natives once in their lives, and leaves an indelible scar, which distinguishes an Aleppine throughout the East. In 1797 Aleppo was the victim of the plague, and of earthquakes in 1822 and 1830.
Page 34. “Protected strangers.”—The text reads: “A friend of the stranger; who never at any time injured any person, deemed all injustice improper, and never deprived any one of aught.”
Page 34. “A son named Bih-zād,” meaning “well-born,” “legitimate.”
Page 35. “A magnificent litter”—the text adds, “and the curtains of the litter were thrown back;”—thus the youth was able to obtain a view of the lady’s beauty.
Page 35. “When the young man had advanced thus far in his narrative;” the lithographed text says, “when the boon companion had described the lady.”—Readers familiar with Oriental fictions will probably recollect many instances of princes and others becoming enamoured, not only at sight of the portrait of a beautiful woman, but at the mere description of her charms: in such celebrated collections of tales as the Arabian Nights, the Persian Tales ascribed to the Dervish Mokles of Isfahān, and the Bahār-i-Danish (Spring of Knowledge) of `Ināyatu-’llah of Dihli. In the Bedawī Romance of `Antar, a noble `Absian named Amara, “a conceited coxcomb, very particular in his dress, fond of perfumes, and always keeping company with women and young girls,” having heard of the beauty of Abla, sends a female slave to the tents of her family to discover whether the damsel was as beautiful as was reported of her; and the girl returning with a glowing account of Abla’s charms, the Bedawī exquisite immediately conceives a violent passion for her—“his ears fell in love before his eyes.”—There is at least one instance on record of a European becoming enamoured from imagination; in the case of Geoffrey Rudel, the gallant troubadour, who fell desperately in love with the Countess of Tripoli, from a description of her beauty and accomplishments: but see the story in Warton’s History of English Poetry.
Page 35. “The city of Rūm, the capital and residence of the Kaisar, or Greek Emperor”: Constantinople.—The signification of “Rūm” is very vague, as it may denote Rome, the Turkish Empire, Greece, or Rumelia (Rūm Eyli). The Persians called the chief of the Seljukī dynasty at Konia (i.e. Iconium), Kaisar-i-Rūm. D’Herbelot defines the term Rūm as applicable to the countries which the Romans, and afterwards the Greeks and Turks, subdued under their domination. “Roumy [Rūmī],” observes Burckhardt, “is a word applied by the Arabs to the Greeks of the Lower Empire, and afterwards to all Christians.” (Travels in Nubia, App. n. iii.) The Persian proverb, Ez Rūm ta Shām, “from Rūm to Syria,” is quoted to indicate an extent of territory. Kaisar (Cæsar, whence Czar) was the general title of the sovereigns of the Lower Empire, as Khusrū was that of the Persian Kings of the Sassanian dynasty.
Page 36. “Prince Bihzād immediately arose, and hastened to the house of the Vizier, and said,” &c.—The following is a close translation of this passage as given in the lithographed text:
“You must go this moment and tell my father, Bihzād says thus: ‘Thou dost not turn thine eye upon me and hast not any care for me. There is no mortal in the world to whom a wife should not be given; if thou carest for me, you would bestow on me a help-mate.’” The Vizier replied: “Your order I obey;” then rose up and went to the King’s palace, asked for an audience, and reported to the King all that Bihzād had said. The King said: “Bihzād has fallen in love; say to him, ‘This wish is in my thoughts; but I have paused until I could discover some companion for thy sake; but if there be a longing for any one, speak out that I may give it my attention—that I may effect a settlement, and bring this thy desire within thy embrace.’”—The Vizier returned, and repeated to Bihzād what the King had said, to which Bihzād replied: “Go and tell my father that the Kaisar of Rūm has a daughter, Nigārīn by name; he must send ambassadors and demand the daughter on my behalf.” The Vizier returned and told the King, who became unhappy.
Page 37. “The Vizier returned to Bihzād, and delivered him this message from his father.”—The lithographed text says:
When Bihzād perceived that the King showed no eagerness in asking for the lady, he said to the Vizier: “If the King will not demand the daughter for me, I will leave the country.” The Vizier said: “I will go and speak to the King to that effect.” He went, and repeated according to Bihzād’s words. The King loved his son to excess, and seeing no resource, sent ambassadors to the Kaisar of Rūm. When the ambassadors arrived at the capital of Rūm, and the news reached the King, he commanded an istikbāl, and that they should enter the city with all due honours and respect. The next day the Kaisar invited the ambassadors to a durbar. When they came before the King and had bowed their faces to the ground, they delivered the message of the Shāh of Aleppo. The King said: “Maybe the wealth [dominion, power?] of the Kaisar does not enter into your [mind’s] eye;—you must be brief and laconic, and utter this reply: ‘One hundred lacs of dīnars is the covenant of my daughter’s hand; whoever will give one hundred lacs of dīnars, to him will I give my daughter.’ Thus he spake; then rising up, dismissed the ambassadors.”
Page 37. “One hundred lacs of dīnars.”—The value of the dīnar (originally din-ār, “brought into circulation by the law”) varied considerably at different periods, but the average value is about ten shillings. As a lac is one hundred thousand, and the Kaisar demanded a hundred lacs; taking the value of the dīnar at ten shillings, this would amount to five million pounds of our money: but Oriental romancers are fond of dealing with immense sums of money—on paper! “The Persians,” says Chardin, “express silver money by the term dirhem, or dragme, and that of gold by that of dīnar, or denier. They reckon by dīnar-bisty and tomāns, although they have not any pieces of money so called. There is the common dīnar, and the legal dīnar (or chemy) and the dīnar-chemy signify the weight and the value of a dīnar of gold, or of a gold crown. A bisty makes ten dīnars, or deniers, and a tomān ten thousand dīnars.” (Voyage en Perse, &c., ii, 91–2.)
Page 38. “They produced twenty lacs.”—Bihzād said: “Make a forced contribution throughout the land, and [demand] one-eighth of the garden [produce].” The Pādishāh replied: “This I will never do, for the city is small and the people have not the means; every one would take flight and be ruined.” Bihzād said: “A portion of the sum [required] exact by a forced contribution; after that, about the remainder let us not concern ourselves” [lit. eat anxiety]. The Pādishāh was incapable [of further opposition]; he commanded that the land [owners] should make a present of twenty lacs of dīnars.
Page 40. “Set out upon his journey.”—For what purpose? Surely not to go and demand the Kaisar’s daughter in marriage, without payment of the balance of the stipulated hundred lacs? Sir William Ouseley has omitted to add that loot was the object of Bihzād’s expedition. The text says that, with two confidential attendants Bihzād set out upon his journey, “until he should fall in with a caravan, and make up the total sum required.” The “good old rule” of our own famous Scottish freebooter Rob Roy—
the simple plan,
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep, who can—
was very commonly put into practice in former times by Arabian lovers in order to procure the dowry. Thus, in the Romance of `Antar, which Von Hammer says presents true pictures of Arabian life about the age of Nushirvān the Just, King of Persia (sixth century), Malik, the father of the beauteous Abla, requires `Antar to procure for her dowry a thousand Asafīr camels by plundering the owner, Mundzir, King of Hīra; and when Khalid demands his cousin Jaida in marriage of her father, the heroic damsel consents, on condition that he provide for slaughter at her wedding-feast a thousand camels belonging to the “Brandisher of Spears,” which he does by plundering the tribe of `Āmir; and when Malik the perfidious father of Abla betrothes her to the Bedawī exquisite Amara (mentioned in a previous note), he collects a party of his followers and sets out on a looting expedition to procure her dowry.—Prince Bihzād, however, appears to have “caught a Tartar” in attacking the caravan which he and his comrades overtook—“in the morning,” according to our translation—“at the hour of mid-day prayer,” says the lithographed text. The old Arabs always made their attacks on the tents of a hostile tribe, and on caravans, in the early morning—on the first gray streaks of dawn appearing, and this is frequently alluded to in their poetry. Thus in the Mu`allaqa of Hareth: “They assembled their forces at night, and as soon as the dawn appeared, there was nothing heard among them but a tumultuous noise, of those who called and those who answered; the neighing of horses, and, among the rest, the lowing of camels.” In the Romance of `Antar, the heroic Prince Malik is represented as being slain in one of those morning raids, when his bridal party were attacked by Hadifa and his tribesmen: “by morning their joys were converted into sorrows, and shots were precipitated at them from arrows for which there is no surgeon.” To wish peace in the morning was therefore among the Arabs a most appropriate salutation. So `Antar, in his famous Mu`allaqa (verse 2), exclaims: “O bower of Abla, in the valley of Jiwā, give me tidings of my love! O bower of Abla, may the morning rise on thee with prosperity and health!” And Zuhayr, also author of a Mu`allaqa, on viewing the traces of his mistress’ former abode: “Hail, sweet bower! may thy morning be fair and auspicious!”
This story is the fourth in Cazotte’s version, in which it presents so few points of resemblance to the tale as given in the Persian work that we must conclude it has been thus altered by the Arabian translator. Bihzād is the son of King Cyrus, founder of the Syrian empire; and the beautiful lady with whom he falls in love from the description of her charms is the daughter of one of his father’s vassals. He avows his passion to the King his father, who immediately sends messengers to his vassal, demanding his daughter in marriage to his son. The dowry of three hundred thousand pieces of gold is agreed upon, but the lady’s father stipulates that the marriage should be delayed for the space of nine months. This seemed an eternity to the impatient Prince, so he mounts his best horse, and sets out to claim his bride at once. On the way he falls into the hands of a gang of robbers and is compelled to join them. They attack a caravan and are defeated, the Prince, among others, being taken prisoner. The merchants present Bihzād to their King, who recognises him from the description of his person in a circular letter which he had received from King Cyrus. This King despatches some troops along with Bihzād to the young lady’s father. On his arrival preparations are made for the celebration of the marriage: only three days have now to pass; but Bihzād, impatient to behold his bride, looks through a small grated window in her pavilion; and a eunuch, placed there on guard, not knowing the Prince, struck him with the point of his scimitar, which ran through both his eyes.
NOTES ON CHAPTER IV.
Page 45. According to the lithographed text: “The Fourth Vizier presented himself before the King and said: ‘Of all the admirable qualities [becoming] a King forbearance is the most praiseworthy, and occasions general tranquillity; but inasmuch as the forbearance [towards] Bakhtyār exceeds all bounds, it brings evil repute to the King and kingdom, just as the [moderate] tasting of meat is legitimate, but to eat to excess produces violent fever.’”
Page 45. “Let him not be precipitate in putting me to death.”—The text goes on to say: “For precipitation in the end leads only to repentance. Through impatience a man falls from sovereignty, but whoever practises patience obtains it, and is free from calamity. If the King would permit, just as his servant has described [the career of] the Impatient Bihzād, he would also, at the service of the King, make known Abū Saber’s patience, and thus shed light on the illumined mind of the King, [showing] how by patience extensive dominion accrues to a human being.” The King said: “Abū Saber, who was he? And practising what degree of patience, and in what manner, did he acquire dominion and sovereignty? Relate.”
Page 46. Abū Saber (Sabr), literally, “Father of Patience.”—This story offers a striking example of the practice of patience, a virtue enjoined by the Kur’ān (ii, 148): “O true believers, beg assistance with patience (bi-’s-sabri) and prayer, for God is with the patient (inna-’llāha ma`a-’s-sabirīn).”—Travellers in the East are daily reminded of this text: you engage camels; at the time appointed, they are not ready; you seek, and find the owner smoking in a coffee-shop; to your remonstrances he replies: “Have patience, Efendī—inna-’llāha ma`a-’s-sabirīn.” An Egyptian friend visits you while you are still agitated, and his only words are: Sabr kun—inna-’llāha ma`a-’s-sabirīn: Have patience—God is with the patient. In a flutter of indignation you bring your complaint before my Lord Judge (Māvlāna Kazī), who summons and expostulates with the offender, and then, with a smile, assures you, inna-’llāha ma`a-’s-sabirīn!—Persian authors are profuse in their praise of patience. Sa`dī (Gulistān, i, 27) illustrates the double meaning of Sabr, which signifies the “aloe” as well as “patience:”
Rest not sour because of the turns of Fortune, for Patience [or the
Aloe],
Although it is bitter, bringeth forth sweet fruit.
And in the same excellent work (iii, 1) he says: “The treasure chosen by Lukmān was patience; without patience there is no such thing as wisdom.”
Page 46. “A tax-gatherer”—`Amil—is inferior to an Amīn, who regulates the revenues of a district, and to a Zamin-dār, a landed proprietor.
Page 46. “Extorted (Kharāj) tribute from the poor peasants.”—Kharāj-guzār, “a tribute-paying subject,” differs from dhimī (zimmiy), who pays an annual tribute, and is entitled to the protection of the Muslims and to most of the civil rights which they enjoy; but he has also—in Egypt, at least—to pay the income-tax in common with Muslims. (See Lane’s Modern Egyptians.)
Page 46. “With cruelty and injustice,” &c.—“Most of the governors of provinces and districts,” says Lane (Modern Egypt.), “carry their oppression far beyond the limits to which they are authorised to proceed by the Pasha; and even the Shaikh of a village, in executing the commands of his superiors, abuses his lawful power: bribes and the ties of relationship and marriage influence him and them; and by lessening the oppression of some, who are more able to bear it, greatly increase that of others.” The peasants of Egypt only pay taxes after a severe bastinading: “the more easily the peasant pays, the more he is made to pay;” they are “proud of the stripes they receive for withholding their contributions; and are often heard to boast of the number of blows which were inflicted upon them before they would give up their money.... It may be hardly necessary to add, that few of them engage with assiduity in the labours of agriculture, unless compelled to do so by their superiors.”
Page 47. “He replied, that patience was his only remedy.”—The lithographed text thus proceeds:
The peasants retired void of hope, and remained [quiet] in the village until the day when the King of the territory came in that direction for the chase. The peasants hastened out of the village, and raised a cry [of lamentation], saying: “We are peasants, the tributaries and well-wishers of his Majesty. At the time when the collector, entering this village, executed his duties cruelly towards us, and had no mercy upon us poor people, a party of evil-doers slew the tax-gatherer and fled. This news reaching the ears of the King, he commanded the village to be laid waste, and we, the guiltless, were set aside. After this we were in misery and affliction, and could do but little seed-sowing and harvest. Three years afterwards a lion formed his lair in the neighbouring district of the village, and he killed many children and camels; and from dread of the lion we were unable to go out of doors, and were reduced to [a state of] starvation and nakedness.” Thus did they speak, and, with lamentations and groans, shed tears. Pity for them came over [the mind of] the King, who asked: “Why, at the time of the murder of the collector, did you not come before me, and represent your own state of affairs, and beg me to forbear from the command to lay your village waste?” The peasants replied: “In the village there is a man who is our chief; whatever affair we undertake, we confer with him, [that] he may devise the proper course [to pursue]. We told him of this state of affairs, and he was not one with us, and he did not think it advisable we should come into the presence of the King.” At these words the King became angry, and commanded they should expel this man from the village.
Page 48.—“Abū Saber recommended patience.”—According to the lithographed text: Have patience (sabr kun); since by patience that which was obscure becomes manifest, [even as] a lamp lights up [darkness].
Page 48. “She contrived to write upon the ground with blood.”—Of what service blood could be in tracing letters in the sand is not very obvious: the lithographed text simply says, that “when she perceived there was no remedy, she wrote on the ground: ‘A robber has carried me off!’”
Page 49. “Every stranger ... was by his command seized and compelled to work,” &c.—No doubt many of the magnificent palaces and other edifices in Eastern countries, like the famous Pyramids near Cairo, were thus raised by forced labour. Mūlī Isma`īl, emperor of Morocco, who died, after a long reign, in 1714, was a great lover of architecture and employed many people on his buildings; if he did not approve of the plan or the performance, it was usual for him to show the delicacy of his taste by demolishing the whole structure and putting to death all who had a hand in it.
Page 50. “Providence would relieve him from the oppression under which he suffered.”—Abū Saber said: “Be patient, since the Almighty (may He be honoured and glorified!) is a friend of the patient, and quickly will release thee from this oppression.”—Here, it will be observed, Abū Saber refers to the text from the Kur’ān quoted in the third note to this chapter, as above, “God is with the patient.”
Page 51. “Supporting his head on the knees of patience, implored the protection of the Almighty.”—Abū Saber may be supposed to have assumed an attitude of prayer (reka), by an inclination of the body, so that the hands rested on the knees, saying (tawakkal bar Khudā), “put thy trust in God,” Kur’ān xxxvii, 3; and recalling to mind: “whoso ... persevereth with patience shall at length find relief.”—Kur’ān xii, 90.
Page 51. “It was resolved that they should go to the prison, and propose three questions to the criminals confined there; and that whoever gave the best answers should be chosen King.”—This will probably strike most readers as a rather curious, not to say hap-hazard, mode of electing a King; yet it goes, I think, to prove the antiquity of the original story; and, moreover, if the “questions” were of such a subtle nature as to require superior sagacity for their solution, it may have been perhaps as good a way of choosing a sovereign as many that have been adopted either in ancient or modern times. The circumstance that the test-questions were proposed to prisoners may seem still more absurd; but the late King is represented as very tyrannical and impious, “one who did not fear God, an infidel;” and the chiefs of the city were doubtless aware that the prisoners were not really criminals, but the innocent victims of a wicked tyrant. It is very tantalising that neither in the lithographed text nor in those texts which Lescallier made use of for his French translation, nor in Sir William Ouseley’s, are the questions and Abū Saber’s answers given. One is naturally curious to know whether they were of the nature of ingenious riddles or subtle questions involving profound moral truths. The practice (apparently a very ancient one) of proposing to certain kinds of candidates and accused persons, riddles or “hard questions” to expound or answer is common to the popular fictions of Europe as well as of Asia. In more than one of the Arabian Tales a lady chooses for her husband him who answers her “questions.” In the Scottish ballad of “Roslin’s Daughter” the lady proposes a number of riddles or questions to her lover, which he must answer before she will “gang to his bed.” In Mr Ralston’s extremely entertaining and valuable Russian Folk-Tales, on the other hand, a Princess makes it her rule, that “any one whose riddles she cannot guess, him must she marry; but any one whose riddles she can guess, him she may put to death.”
In Chapter 70 of Swan’s translation of the Gesta Romanorum, a collection of Latin stories, largely derived from Eastern sources, very popular in the Middle Ages, a King’s daughter vows that she will never marry except the man who answers three questions. In the old English version of the Gesta, edited by Sir Frederick Madden, Chapter 19, a certain good and righteous knight is falsely accused of some crime, and the Emperor gives him the option of answering six questions or forfeiting his life. The same story, with variations of local colouring, &c., is found in the 4th novel of Sacchetti, one of the early Italian novelists; in Tyl Eulenspiegel, the celebrated German folk-book; and in our old English ballad of “King John and the Abbot of Canterbury.” In an Indian work of fiction, said to have been written in the 7th century, Dasa Kumara Charita (Adventures of Ten Princes), Mitragupta meets with a terrible Rakshasa—a species of demon in human form—who threatens to devour him if he cannot answer four questions. These, with Mitragupta’s answers, are as follows: (1) What is cruel? Ans. A wicked woman’s heart. (2) What is most to the advantage of a householder? Ans. Good qualities in a wife. (3) What is love? Ans. Imagination. (4) What best accomplishes difficult things? Ans. Cunning. Mitragupta then relates four stories in illustration of his answers. In the Persian romance of Hatim Ta`ī—the author of which has been greatly indebted to Hindū fiction for his materials—a young lady, named Husn Bānū, makes it the condition of her bestowing her hand on any of her numerous suitors, that he shall answer seven questions—or rather, perform seven difficult and dangerous tasks in order to solve her questions.—In the 14th of Mr Ralston’s Tibetan Tales, the Dumb Cripple, who does not wish to succeed to the throne, is permitted to renounce the world on condition of his answering three questions.—And Voltaire, in his Zadig—imitating this feature of Oriental romance, as he did others—represents a contention for the throne of Babylon, first by a tournament, and finally by the champions attempting to solve a number of enigmas.
Whether it was ever a custom in any Eastern land to choose a King from among prisoners to whom certain difficult questions were proposed, is itself a “difficult question.” But it is remarkable that in legendary Indian stories, both those preserved in writing and by oral tradition, mention is frequently made of the election of a King by the elephant of the deceased monarch. For instance: in Sivandhi Sthala Purana, a legendary account of the famous temple at Trinchinopoli, of which a palm-leaf manuscript is described by Dr H. H. Wilson, in his Catalogue of the Mackenzie Collection, it is related that a certain King having mortally offended a holy Muni, his capital and all the inhabitants were, in consequence of an imprecation pronounced on him by the enraged saint, buried beneath a shower of dust. “Only the Queen escaped, and in her flight she was delivered of a male child. After some interval, the chiefs of the Chola kingdom, proceeding to elect a King, determined, by advice of the Muni [the same whose curse had worked the mischief aforesaid], to crown whomsoever the late monarch’s elephant should pitch upon. Being turned loose for that purpose, the elephant discovered and brought to Trisira-mālī the child of his former master, who accordingly became the Chola King.”—And in the Manipuri Story of the Two Brothers, Turi and Basanta (translated by G. H. Damant, in the Indian Antiquary, 1875), Turi, in the course of his wanderings, is chosen King in a similar manner by an elephant, who meets the youth in the forest, takes him up, and brings him to the palace, where he is immediately set upon the throne.—A very singular custom in the election of a Khān seems to have been once observed by the Kalmuks, if we may credit the Relations of Ssidi Kür, a Tartar version of the Sanskrit Vetála Panchavinsati, or 25 Tales of a Demon: A sacred figure, of dough or paste, usually in the shape of a pyramid, called a baling, was thrown high into the air, and the person upon whose head it fell was proclaimed Khān.
—Still more curious, and savouring somewhat of the supernatural;—in Mr Ralston’s Tibetan Tales, a king called Ananda, being attacked by illness, considered which of his five sons he should invest with the sovereign power. His four elder sons were rash, rude, and hot-tempered; his youngest, Prince Adarsamukha, was the most suitable; but Ananda’s kinsmen would probably reproach him should he pass over the elder sons, and give his crown to the youngest. Then said he to his ministers: “Give ear, O chieftains! After my death ye are to test each of the princes in turn. Him among them whom the jewel-shoes fit when they are tried on; under whom the throne remains steadfast when he is upon it; on whom the diadem rests unshaken when it is placed upon his head; whom the women recognise; and who guesses the six objects to be divined by his insight, namely: the inner treasure, the outer treasure, the inner and outer treasure, the treasure of the tree-top, the treasure of the hill-top, and the treasure of the river-shore: him by whom all these conditions are fulfilled shall ye invest with the sovereign power.” As is almost invariably the case in the folk-tales of all countries, the youngest son is the successful competitor.—In the good old times, when kings and chiefs were chosen for their physical strength and prowess in battle, one can see some propriety in rival candidates for the supreme power settling their claims by a hand-to-hand contest; but surely only in such countries as China and Japan could we conceive it possible for a dispute of this kind to be settled by proxy. Mr Mitford, in his Tales of Old Japan (vol. i, 203, 204), tells us: “In the year 858 the throne of Japan was wrestled for. The Emperor Buntoker had two sons, called Koréshito and Korétaka, both of whom aspired to the throne. Their claims were decided in a wrestling match, in which one Yoshirô was the champion of Koréshito, and Natora the champion of Korétaka. Natora having been defeated, Koréshito ascended his father’s throne, under the style of Siewa.”
Page 52. “The robber he immediately recognised, but was silent.”—In keeping with the Persian saying: sina pur jūsh o lab khamūsh, “troubled breast and silent lip.”
Page 52. “We are freeborn, we are the sons of a Mussulmān—Slaves, among the Muslims, are either captives in war (saqāyā) or by purchase (mavālāt).” One of the fundamental points of the Muhammadan religion consists in the ransom of slaves: “Alms should buy the freedom of slaves”—Kurān ix, 60.
Page 53. “The merchant’s money to be deposited in the public treasury.”—This, if correctly rendered, would have been an act of gross injustice, not at all in accordance with the character of Abū Saber; since the merchant had been guilty of nothing unlawful in purchasing the boys, whom he did not know were freeborn and the sons of a Muslim. The lithographed text says: “He sent the robber to prison, and re-imbursed the merchant from the public treasury;”—and Lescallier (p. 96): “Il ordonna au voleur de restituer au marchand l’argent qu’il en avait reçu, et le fit arrêter et jeter en prison.”
Page 53. “Because she wore a veil (sitr).”—Muslim women are prescribed by their religion to conceal from all men whatever may be attractive in their appearance, and the men are not permitted to see any unveiled women save their wives, or slaves, and those women with whom they are prohibited by law from marrying—see Kur’ān xxiv, 31. “The curse of God,” said the Prophet, “is on the seer and the seen.” Lane, in his Modern Egyptians, gives a very minute description, with numerous engravings, of the veils worn by Muslim women, and remarks that “the veil is of very remote antiquity”—see Genesis xxiv, 65, and Isaiah iii, 23.
Page 53. “Would not consent to perform the duties of a wife.”—When a wife disobeys her husband’s lawful commands, he may take her (or two Muslim witnesses) before the Kāzī. Should the complaint preferred be just and proved, a certificate is written, declaring her nashiza, rebellious, and the husband is then quite free from the obligation of lodging, clothing, and maintaining her.
Page 53. “This man was not her husband.”—The 4th sura of the Kur’ān (v. 20 et seq.) treats of lawful and unlawful marriages. “Ye are all forbidden to take to wife free women who are married” (v. 22); that is, says Sale, whether they be Muslim women or not, unless they be legally divorced from their husbands.—This incident, if the story be fictitious (but it probably had some foundation in fact), is very ingeniously conceived: Abū Saber’s happiness is rendered complete by the recovery of his wife, with such a credential of her purity!
The Arabian version of this story, according to Cazotte’s French rendering (and Habicht’s German translation agrees with it in this respect), gives a very different account of the circumstances of Abū Saber’s elevation to the supreme power. Abū Saber, it seems, had been cast by the wicked King into a deep, dry well in the palace-yard. Now it happened that this impious and cruel King “had a brother whom he had always concealed from every eye, in a secret part of the palace; but suspicion and uneasiness made him afraid lest he should one day be carried off and placed upon the throne. Some time before he had privately let him down into this well. This unhappy victim of politics soon sank under so many distresses: he died; but this event was not known, although the other parts of the secret had transpired. The grandees of the realm, and the whole nation, shocked at a capricious cruelty which exposed them all to the same danger, rose, with one accord, against the tyrant, and assassinated him. The adventure of Abū Saber had been long since forgotten. One of the officers of the palace reported that the King went every day to carry bread to a man who was in the well, and to converse with him. This idea led their thoughts to the brother who had been so cruelly used by the tyrant. They ran to the well, went down into it, and found there Abū Saber, whom they took for the presumptive heir to the crown. Without giving him time to speak, or to make himself known, they conducted him to a bath; and he was soon clothed in the royal purple, and placed upon the throne.”
NOTES ON CHAPTER V.
Page 56. “The King of Yemen.”—As the Kings of Egypt were named Pharaoh, those of the Sassanian dynasty of Persia, Khusrū, those of Abyssinia, Negashi, so were the Kings of Yemen distinguished by the title of Tobba, from being the paramount sovereign of a number of tribes or followers (tābi`īn). Some of the ancient Kings, having considerably enlarged their dominions by conquest, became proverbial for great power.
