Qiṣṣa-i Ḥātim Ta'i (=Qiṣṣa-i Haft Sayr (su'al)-i Ḥātim Ta'i) - The Adventures of Ḥātim Tai

WHEN I was attending the school in my ’teens, about twice twenty years ago, I came across a book called HATIM TAI, very clumsily printed lithographically with various quaint drawings to illustrate the book. It was a Gujerati translation of the Persian version of the Adventures of Hatim bin Tai. Years rolled on and I had forgotten all about it. Some time ago, however, I came across an old book of the same title in English, a cursory perusal of which recalled to my memory the old pictures of the deeds of Hatim, whose name is a synonym for generosity and selflessness among Asiatic nations. It is a record of mysterious deeds, indeed.

As there is now so much enthusiasm for novels, adventures, and love-stories, I think this book might supply a want of almost all classes of people; but to the student of Theosophy, it will be a book which will help in more than one respect. He might see underneath seeming absurdities, numerous occult truths. Read in the light of theosophy the book will yield many a mine of superphysical and occult experiences, interspersed with noble ethics.

The English translation from the Persian was done by Duncan Forbes, A. M. The first edition of it was published in London in 1830; and a second edition of the same was “reprinted at the General Printing Office, by Francisco do Rozario for Ignacio Mendonca,” in Bombay, in 1836. I do not know whether any other edition of this book has been published during the intervening seventy-five years. If not, this edition will, it is hoped, serve as a treasure, unearthed after three quarters of a century, from the realm of Occult literature.

THE following translation of the Adventures of HATIM TAI may not perhaps merit from the English reader that interest which the original holds among the natives of the East. In Europe the last three centuries have wrought mighty changes in the state of society, while Asia remains, comparatively speaking, unaltered. Among the natives of Persia and Hindustan, the belief in demons, fairies, magicians with their enchanted palaces, and talismans and charms, is as prevalent as it was in Europe in the chivalrous ages that succeeded the crusades. Hence the most celebrated works of fiction in the East abound with the incredible, the wild, and the marvellous, like the productions of the bards and story-tellers of Provence and their imitators, which enchanted Europe from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries.

The Seven Tales which form the present volume have in them a due portion of the supernatural; but it would be unfair to condemn them on that account, as they are thereby the more adapted to the taste of the people, for whom the original was composed. One merit they certainly possess, and that is, their humane and heroic tendency. The eminent personage who figures as the hero was in his time a pattern of wisdom, bravery, and generosity. He has been therefore chosen as a proper theme by the writer of romance, who, spurning the bounds of reality, has created an ideal world of his own, with that wildness and extravagance of fancy which characterise an eastern imagination.

The Adventures of Hatim Tai have long obtained the highest popularity in those regions of Asia where the language of Persia is spoken or studied. Among those who speak the language of the original, the work is read with admiration and listened to with delight. In India it is extremely popular, and is generally selected as a book well adapted for beginners in the study of Persian, now the court language of that wide empire. This circumstance has induced me, under the auspices of the High and Illustrious Personages who contribute to the Oriental Translation Fund, to offer to the public the following English version, as a specimen of the romance of a nation that has long ranked as the most refined in Asia.

Should it be said that I might have applied my time to better purpose in translating some work of a graver cast, I may quote in my defence the words of the illustrious Dr. Blair: “Any kind of writing,” he says, “how trifling soever in appearance, that obtains a general currency, and especially that early pre-occupies the imagination of the youth of both sexes, must demand particular attention. Its influence is likely to be considerable both on the morals and taste of a nation.”

I am not sanguine enough to hope that my performance is faultless; nor do I imagine that I have transfused into the English version the ease and elegance of the Persian original. The difficulty of such a task is known only to those who are conversant with the different idioms of the two languages. I have endeavoured, however, to give in my translation the ideas of the Persian author, and for the most part in his own words; but it often happens that a phrase which makes good sense in Persian may be unintelligible in English, and in that case I gave the meaning, and not the words, of the original.

The manuscript from which the present translation is made, was procured in the East in 1824. It gives no notice as to the place and time of writing; but from the beauty of penmanship and general accuracy of expression, I am inclined to think that it was executed in Persia and not Hindustan; and from its appearance, I should consider it at least a century old. In the course of the translating of the work I had access to three other MSS., one in the India-House, and two in the possession of an Oriental bookseller in town, who liberally allowed me the use of them when requisite. Of these resources I freely availed myself whenever I felt at a loss with my own. The four MSS. agree as a whole, though in every page may be found some small verbal discrepancies.

The few notes occasionally appended to the following pages, are taken chiefly from Oriental sources, such as the Farhang-i-Mashnavi, the Borhan-i-Kati, the Muntakhab-ul-Loghat, and the Rozat-ul-Sufa, which are works of standard value, and in all fairness, better authorities than European works of the kind.

Two editions of the Persian text of Hatim Tai have been printed at Calcutta since the establishment of Fort-William College. This work, however, differs widely from all the MSS. which I have yet seen; and in fact, the name is almost the only resemblance left. The Calcutta copy is greatly abridged, the adventures and scenes that remain are altered, and the language rendered more flowery and artificial. All this may have been done with the view of improvement, by the munshis who superintended the publishing of the work. I am warranted in this conclusion from the circumstance that eight MSS., five of which I have seen in London and three in Calcutta, though written at distant periods of time and in places remote from each other, agree with the one I possess, whereas I have never seen a MS. resembling the Calcutta printed copy.

Be this as it may, I merely mention the circumstance in order to obviate a mistake that may have arisen from the appearance of a translation of the Calcutta copy in the Asiatic Journals of last spring. By comparing that work with mine, it will be found that we have not been translating from the same original; and it will be seen further, that the Calcutta copy is only an abridgment of the common MSS.

I may be allowed to express my hope here that those illustrious patrons of Oriental literature, under whose protection the present translation has been brought before the public, will on some future day publish the original. It may be presuptuous in me to express an opinion of the kind before such competent judges; but, as a teacher of the Persian language, I feel much the want of an easy and useful elementary work. At present, the only good Persian author that is at all procurable is the Gulistan of Saadi, which I know from experience to be too difficult for beginners. It holds the same rank in Persian literature that the compositions of Dr. Johnson do in English; and I believe any person beginning the study of our language, would find the Rambler a difficult book.

As a precursor to the Gulistan, Hatim Tai seems to me the easiest and most useful of Persian authors. The style of the work (I mean, of course, the MSS.) is plain and unadorned. It abounds with commonplace dialogue, the main thing to be attended to in living language. The subject is in general sufficiently interesting to arrest the attention of youth and its size and moderate price would be an additional recommendation. If the work were printed in a neat octavo size, like the last edition of the Gulistan, I am confident that the produce of its sale would soon repay the expense of printing.

It remains for me now to say something of the illustrious personage whose perilous adventures are so faithfully recorded in the following work. Hatim ben Ubaid ben Sa’id, chief of the tribe of Tai, lived in the latter half of the sixth century of the Christian æra. His native country was Yemen, or Arabia Felix, but it is uncertain what were the extent and resources of his domains. As Arabia was then divided into numerous tribes, it is most probable that Hatim’s sway extended only over a few thousands of hardy Arabs, who bore his family name of Tai, and acknowledged him as their chief. At all events, he possessed in the highest degree the virtues most admired in that age and country. Meidani, an Arabian author of the twelfth century, says of him, “Hatim was liberal, brave, wise, and victorious; when he fought, he conquered; when he plundered, he carried off; when he was asked, he gave; when he shot his arrow, he hit the mark; and whomsoever he took captive, he liberated.”

No wonder that the chief who merited such encomiums from the historian, should become the favourite theme of poetry and romance. In the East the name of Hatim is synonymous with liberality. One of the highest compliments that can be paid to a generous man is to call him the Hatim of the day. But it would be endless to quote the numerous allusions made to his name by the authors of Arabia and Persia; we shall therefore content ourselves with the following anecdote from D’Herbelot:—

“The Greek Emperor of the time sent an ambassador to Yemen to demand on the part of his master a favourite horse which Hatim possessed. The generous Arab had received no intimation either of the embassy or of its object; when the ambassador therefore arrived Hatim was quite unprepared for his reception. In order to prepare a suitable entertainment for his illustrious guest and his attendants he had no other resource than to cause his favourite horse to be killed and roasted on the occasion. This was accordingly done; and after the feast the ambassador stated his master’s wish. ‘It is too late,’ replied Hatim; ‘the horse has been killed for our repast. When you arrived, I knew not the object of your journey, and I had no other food to offer you.’”

Hatim’s hand was ever ready to assist the poor and to feed the hungry, and it is said that he often bestowed the flesh of his camels, to the amount of forty at a time, on the poor Arabs that inhabited the neighbourhood. His extraordinary liberality, added to his success in war, endeared him to his countrymen, and the age in which he lived was most favourable to his fame. Arabian poetry was then in its zenith, and an annual competition of the bards was held at Mecca, in the temple of which were suspended in letters of gold, the compositions of those who were successful. Of these, seven only have come down to us, but it is highly probable, had we the whole of them, that Hatim would in some instances be found to constitute the theme.

In the Rozat-ul-Sufa we have the following brief notice of Hatim’s death: “In the eighth year after the birth of his eminence the Prophet, died Noushirwan the Just, and Hatim Tai the generous, both famous for their virtues.” We are further told, in the same work, that towards the latter years of Mahommed’s life, the host of the Faithful in the pious duty of propagating the religion of the prophet, ravaged and laid waste the whole territory of the tribe of Tai. Adi, the son of Hatim, fled to Syria, but his sister and such of his people as were spared, were brought as prisoners to Medina. The prophet gave them the choce of embracing the true faith, or of having their heads cut off, when the daughter of Hatim stood forth and pleaded the cause of her distressed tribe. On hearing the revered name of Hatim, Mahomed issued a free pardon to the whole tribe of Tai.

This was good policy in the prophet; for it is likely that the general prepossession in favour of the tribe of Tai, might militate greatly against his own interests had he proceeded to extremes. As it was, the Taians became converts soon after this act of mercy; and Adi, the son of Hatim, on his return from Syria, was enrolled among the champions of the faith.

According to D’Herbelot, Hatim’s tomb is to be seen in a small village called Aovaredh in Arabia. The spot consecrated by his ashes is still visited with that reverence which is due to the memory of the generous and brave.

AFTER the expressing of praise and eulogy, be it known that the historians of events and narrators of facts have given us the following account of genealogy^† of Taiben-Kahlān-ben-Rasn-ben-Nakhshab (ben-Nazrab) ben-Kahtan ben-Hūd. They have related that in the days of paganism Hūd was a man who obtained regal power in the territory of Yemen.^‡ His father was chief of a village, and in course of time, when he died, the chieftainship of the village devolved on Hūd. Some time had thus passed when the reflection occupied his mind, “that to remain like the homely mouse in a situation such as this, and like the spider to live in obscurity, is unbecoming a youth of spirit.” Having assembled in council his clansmen and friends, he thus addressed them: “My dear friends, it is my intention to wrest my head from the servitude of our prince and to measure strength with him; and should God the Supreme aid me, I will possess myself of the tyrant’s throne, and will bestow such happiness on this country that my conduct will be approved of by every nation on earth.” The whole assembly, delighted, expressed their approbation in return, stating at the same time that (ample) funds were necessary or the enterprize.

Hūd therefore occupied himself for seven years in the collecting of stores, and at the end of the seven years he began to levy troops. Meanwhile, intelligence reached the King of Yemen that Hūd was employed in raising an army, and that it was uncertain what plans he had in view. The King of Yemen (on hearing this) got his troops in readiness, and when Hūd was informed of it, he took the field with an army of fifty thousand horse and foot, that he had levied and furnished with arms during the preceding seven years, with which force he was now resolved on resistance. He also bestowed most liberally the treasures that he had amassed; and all the men of the different districts flocked around him, and he received them into his service and gave them gold in profusion.

When (as it happened) the King of Yemen’s troops defeated and dispersed in the field of battle, gave intelligence and shewed evidence of the occurrence to their sovereign, the King in person, with the whole of his forces marched against Hūd; but as fortune had now withdrawn, her countenance from the King’s household, he also was vanquished, and taken prisoner by Hūd. The ruler of Yemen shortly alter died of grief, when Hūd succeeded him, and occupied the regal throne. For the space of a hundred years Hūd reigned over the kingdom of Yemen with equity and moderation, such as had never previously existed; and at the end of the century he died, when his son Kahtān ascended the throne. He also promoted the prosperity and happiness of the country. He had a son whom he called Nakhshab,^* and whom he caused to be carefully brought up; but when the youth arrived at the goal of puberty, he rebelled against his father and spread sedition through the whole kingdom, thus setting his face on disobedience. Sometime after, his father died, and thence Nakhshab succeeded as King of Yemen. To Nakhshab was born a son, whom they called by name Rasn. The youth becoming disaffected towards his father Naskshab in his capacity of sovereign, he was kept apart from the latter by his mother. Nakhshab (ignorant of the circumstance) became anxious for his son Rasn, and desired to have him brought to his presence; but the object of his wish was nowhere to be found. Shortly after, Nakhshab was deprived of reason (on discovering) that Rasn was bringing the country to ruin. Rasn had a son Kahlan, who caused his father to be seized and sent into confinement; nor would he never release him lest by so doing the kingdom should become a prey to calamity. At length the father died in confinement, and the crown was settled on Kahlan. To him was born a son whose name was Taï, and who on his father’s death became sovereign of Yemen. So strictly did Taï promote equity and administer justice throughout his dominions, that he gained the approbation and received the gratitude of all his subjects. To such extent did he increase his countless troops, that he soon reduced the whole empire of Arabia into his own possession. He further afforded his protection to the grandees of Yemen and the neighbouring provinces.

Shortly after this period, those who sat in court with him happened to mention the amiable qualities of Husn Banu, the daughter of Aden, by which the affection of Taï the king towards her was increased. This lady, the daughter of his uncle, he took in marriage, and by her he had a son whose name was called Hatim, and (at whose birth) the philosophers and astrologers were in attendance. These discovered from Hatim’s horoscope that he should be sovereign of the seven regions; and that he should gird his loins in the service of God the Supreme, so that for his good qualities his name would last till the day of judgment. On hearing this, Tai was exceedingly delighted, and bestowed gifts on the philosophers and astrologers, and made (public) rejoicing.

Now (it happened that) on the very day on which Hatim was born, six^* thousand male children were born in the city. Taï gave orders, and issued a proclamation that every male child born on such a day should be brought to his court. His servants accordingly collected the six thousand infants, and Taï having procured as many nurses, took upon himself the care of bringing them up. He also appointed four youthful nurses, fair of countenance, to wait on Hatim, who (it was observed) would not suck milk. The father was informed of this circumstance, and having assembled the philosophers and astrologers, he said to them, “what is the reason that Hatim does not suck milk?” They replied, “this child is destined to become famous in the world for his liberality, and unless he be suckled along with others (and thus share the milk with them), he will not otherwise accept of any.” This plan they adopted, and Hatim began to suck milk in company with the other children. He never used to cry, nor suck milk if alone, nor listlessly indulge in sleep. After he had been weaned, and began to live on (ordinary) food, if at any time he was taken out and saw a poor person, he used to make signs with his hands, (imploring) his attendants to give him alms. When they presented him with food, he used to sit down at table and eat it in company with six thousand boys who were brought up with him. For the whole day his sports and occupations were such that his hand never ceased from giving;^* and till he was twelve years of age, his avocation consisted in liberality. His father had amassed boundless treasure, and the son gave it away with liberality, and was the stranger’s friend.

When he used to go a hunting, he never wounded a living creature with an arrow or any other deadly weapon; on the country, he used to catch them in nets and again set them at liberty. He never uttered violent (or abusive) language; but expressed his sentiments in the mildest strain. Beauty he possessed in the extreme, so that all men and women admired him. When any one approached him with a complaint, and laid hold of his horse’s bridle, he used in the most consoling language to examine the grievances of such, and afford his protection, for tyranny and oppression he countenanced not.

In this same manner some time elapsed, when the flowers of youth began (to blossom) on the rosebud of his cheeks and his beauty was daily on the increase; and notwithstanding the multitude of men and women who used to come for the purpose of beholding the beauty of Hatim, he never prevented them from seeing his person. He would say to them, “my subjects, why behold a fellow-creature? You ought to contemplate and praise that Creator who has made both me and you, and to occupy yourselves in deeds of humanity and bravery.”

Thus the renown of Hatim’s beauty and bravery and liberality and affabillity reached the extremities of the earth, and all the world admired him and came to see him.

One day Hatim went to the desert, where on a sudden a lion met him: he said in his heart, “If I attack this lion with my weapon it will be remote from humanity, and if I smite him not the lion will devour me; perhaps by the divine favour I may soothe the lion’s heart.”^* In mild language he addressed the lion, saying, “Creature of God, if thou hungerest for my flesh, it is at thy service; and if thy longing be for flesh wherewith to fill thy belly, here is my horse— eat and appease thy hunger: but if thou hast a wish for my own flesh, for the sake of God I will give it thee; devour me, and be not sad-hearted.” At these mild expressions the lion crouched, and Hatim removed his armour from his person, and took down the saddle from his horse and with clasped hands came before the lion and said, “of the two, whichsoever be thy choice, eat, and depart not sad in heart.” At these words the lion lowered his head and fell at the feet of Hatim, and began to wipe his eyes against them. Hatim said, “Creature of God, far be it from Hatim that thou shouldst depart hungry; for God the Supreme has created the horse for the benefit of his creatures, therefore eat; and if thou hast a desire for my own flesh, as a divine duty I bestow it on thee; but go not away hungry and distressed in heart. Of my own free will I give (up myself), and if thou eat me not, thou wilt distress me.” The lion laid his face in the dust, and then departed to his haunt. Thus did Hatim practise beneficence and kindness, which he extended towards his fellow-creatures. He never gave way to selfish repining or regret, and in the way (which is pleasing) to God, he devoted his life and person to the service of humanity.

Containing the History of Husn Banu, the daughter of Burzakh the merchant— Her expulsion from the King of Khorasan’s capital, and her removal from her country— Her finding in the desert the treasures of seven Kings, and her beneficence towards mankind— Her becoming celebrated in the world, and her being beloved by Muneer, the Assyrian prince— Hatim hears of the circumstance— His visit to Husn Banu on account of her seven remarkable sayings, of which he undertakes an explanation.

THEY say that in the kingdom of Khorasan there lived a monarch by name Kurdan Shah, who supported in his train five laks of horsemen and ten thousand courtiers, also musketeers and archers. Each of his nobles he entrusted with the care of a province; and his justice and equity were such that he made the lion and the lamb drink water from the same fountain, and he never oppressed his subjects. In his reign there lived a merchant, by name Burzakh, who possessed much wealth and dignity, and whose agents travelled in all directions in pursuit of commerce. He himself was on intimate terms with the king, and the monarch’s regard for him was extreme. After some time, when his hour arrived, he died, and left no heir except an only daughter, by name Husn Banu, on whom was settled the whole of her father’s wealth and property. At this period Husn Banu was twelve years old, and Burzakh on his death-bed left his daughter to the king’s care, who with great kindness said, “She is my own daughter;” and he accordingly made over to Husn Banu all the wealth and property left by her father.

Shortly after, the daughter, who was possessed of wisdom, and looked on wordly wealth as sand, began to bestow her treasures and effects in charity, and she used to remark, “that we ought not to entangle ourselves amidst the contaminations of the world.” Having sent for her nurse, she consulted her, saying, “My dear mother, it is not my intention to marry, pray tell me by what means can I keep myself secure from the hands of wordly men? some sort of plan we must form.” The nurse replied, “I have seven questions^* which you shall put to every man who desires to become your husband: whosoever shall answer them properly, and shall agree to the terms (which they embrace), him you shall accept. The seven questions are the following.

Husn Banu highly approved of these questions; and one day shortly after, when seated in her balcony, and viewing the surrounding prospect, a dervise attended by forty slaves passed by, and his feet touched not the earth. When Husn Banu saw the pious man, she said to her nurse, “Oh, mother, who is this high personage that travels so magnificently, and whose foot treads not the ground, except it be paved with bricks of gold and silver?” The nurse replied, “Life of thy mother, this dervise is the king’s spiritual guide; and Kurdan Shah every month goes and waits upon this holy man, submits himself to him, and acts according to his advice; in short, he is devout and in communion with the Creator.” Husn Banu said, “My dear nurse, I have a desire to invite him to this house to an entertainment, and shew him every mark of respect;” to which proposal the nurse gave her approbation. She then called one of her attendants, and said to him, “Go to the presence of that illustrious man, and convey to his eminence my desire and request, stating, that a certain lady invites his Holiness to an entertainment; if out of condescension becoming the great, and benevolence becoming the pious, he should deign to visit the said humble lady, she will be most happy on the occasion.” When the attendant of Husn Banu waited on the dervise, and stated to him her representation, the pious man consented, and said, “To-morrow I will assuredly come.” The servant brought the intelligence to Husn Banu that the dervise would come next day, at which she was highly delighted, and gave orders to prepare all sorts of viands for the pious man. She also prepared for an offering to him nine suits of silken garments embroidered with gold, and seven trays of pure brilliant gold, along with several baskets full of fruit.

On the following morning the dervise with his forty attendants proceeded to the house of Husn Banu. Now although this dervise was a man in appearance, yet he possessed the nature of Shaitan the fiend, and when going on his way he would not deign to tread the earth: for his slave paved his path with bricks of gold and silver, and on these alone be placed his feet and walked: and in this mode of marching he came to Husn Banu’s house. When the latter was informed that the dervise was arrived, she ordered them to cover the space extending from the outer gate to the interior of the house with carpets embroidered with gold and silver, on which the pious man might walk. After the dervise of high dignity stepped upon carpet, he entered the house, and was seated on a throne befitting a king.

Husn Banu in the first place brought for the acceptance of the dervise the trays full of gold and silver, which he accepted not, saying, “These sculptured pieces of worldly dross are of no service to me.” When they saw that the dervise would not accept the money, they then brought him the baskets filled with sweet fruits, and laid them on the table. All the trays and other dishes, and also the dish-covers, were of gold and silver, as were likewise the ewers and goglets, and the whole display was princely. The couches and screens were richly embroidered with gold, and they placed before the dervise food of every kind and variety and sweetmeats of every description; and they waited upon him for washing his hands, with ewers and goglets of gold. The arrangements of the table being finished the dervise began to eat; but ever and anon his eye wandered to the gold and the various utensils, and he said in his heart, “Gracious heaven! what a wealthy man Burzakh the merchant must have been; who possessed in his house treasures and stores to such an extent that it seems almost the wealth of a crowned head!” He at the same time considered in his heart, “This very night we must come into the house of Burzakh’s daughter and seize this treasure and furniture— we must have recourse to theft.” When the dervise had finished eating, they presented him with perfumes; but he all along had his eyes on the various moveables.

After some time, as evening approached, the dervise took leave of Husn Banu. Her waiting men and other servants who had been in attendance on the dervise went to sleep. When about a watch of the night had passed, the dervise with his forty satellites, who were complete thieves, entered the house of Husn Banu, and having killed such of her people as attempted to give the alarm, securely carried off the whole property. Husn Banu with her nurse having absconded themselves in the lattice, were observing the thieves, and knew them. After the latter had gone and the morning advanced, Husn Banu having taken with her a few of her domestics, who had survived from the hands of that treacherous villain, came to the king’s court, and represented her grievance. The king asked, “Who is this, and against whom does she demand justice?” The attendants replied, “Sire, this is the daughter of Burzakh the merchant; she says, if it please the king, she will come to his presence and represent her own case.” The king summoned Husn Banu to his presence; she stated, “Long live the king! Yesterday, as a sacred duty, I gave an entertainment to a dervise, and bestowed on him my food, and this last night he has committed murder in my house. He with his forty attendants privately entered my dwelling and carried off that whole amount of my money and property and my people lie slain and wounded; thus has the darkminded dervise acted towards me.” The king on hearing this accusation was enraged, and said, “Foolish woman, bringest thou accusations against the most eminent of the age? he covets nothing earthly.” Husn Banu replied, “Oh, upright prince! he deserves not to be called the eminent but rather the fiend of the age.” At this reply the king grew furious, and ordered that both herself and her attendants should be stoned to death, in order that others might take warning, and not utter such calumnies respecting his Majesty’s ghostly confessor and pious counsellor. Here the prime minister stood up and said, “Sire, this is the daughter of Burzakh the merchant, and you have been pleased already to shew her kindness; but now when her father is no more, if you cause the daughter to be thus put to death, then will perish from the hearts of your subjects all confidence in the king’s protection towards their surviving children; and instead thereof, they will be filled with distrust; for this reason, Sir, I have deemed it proper to warn you.” To this the king replied, “Well, for the sake of Burzakh, we shall spare her life; but you shall expel her from the city and confiscate her house; this instant she must be sent without the gates.” The people executed the order, and Husn Banu with her nurse turned their faces to the desert with weeping and lament ation; and the attendants of that helpless lady, reduced to ruin, wandered through the streets of the city. Husn Banu frequently said, “Oh, mother! this dervise has been a grievous curse to us; and yet, oh, God! what crime have we committed that we should be involved in such calamities?” The nurse endeavoured to console her, saying, “My child, what remedy can be applied against the revolutions of fortune.”