To all these, however, Hatim paid not the least regard, for he kept in mind the advice of the stranger who had lately entertained him, and said to himself, “this is all enchantment.” The damsels then laid hold of Hatim and conveyed him to a splendid palace, which was entirely formed of precious stones and all sorts of jewels and pearls and also decorated with numberless paintings. When Hatim, was inside the palace, standing near a throne which he viewed with admiration, he thought within himself, “Now that I am in this palace, why should I not for once sit upon that throne?” He therefore advanced, and on laying his foot on the throne he heard a tremendous crash, he started back, thinking that the throne had been broken under his weight. He once more examined it, and seeing no ground for what he had imagined, he mounted the throne and sat down. He was no sooner upon the throne than the noise was repeated, and the beautiful damsel whom the stranger on the mountain had mentioned to him as likely to take his heart captive, approached him with smiles the most alluring. She was arrayed in gold and jewels of the highest price; and with a veil cast over her countenance, she advanced and stood at the foot of the throne. Hatim was com­pletely bewildered, and felt the strongest inclination to remove the veil from her face; but then he remembered the advice he had received, and said in his own mind, “It is only by seizing the hand of this damsel that I am to be delivered from this enchantments; however, ere I depart I must see further into the delusions of this place.” For three nights and days Hatim remained seated on the throne. The darkness of the night was dispelled by magic lamps which to him were invisible, and his ears were delighted with melodious sounds. Fantastic groups in endless variety danced along the scene, but all along the damsel of surpassing beauty stood by the throne, sweetly smiling in his face. They presented him with food and fruits of every description in costly dishes; but although Hatim ate most heartily, his hunger was not in the least appeased. Wondering in his mind, he said to himself, “Though I am constantly eating I am never satiated, how is this to be accounted for?” In this manner three days had elapsed, and on the fourth he said to himself, “Oh, Hatim! were you to look for a hundred years at these delusive appearances, still you would not have tired of them. At the same time you have left behind you a helpless youth, whose expectations are fixed on your exertions; if you waste the time, what will you have to answer before God?”

Hatim then seized the hand of the fair damsel, which he had no sooner done than a female form issued from the foot of the throne, and struck him a blow which felled him to the ground. He opened his eyes, and on looking round him saw not a trace of the garden, the palace, the throne, or the damsels. A dreary and bound­less wilderness presented itself to his view, which he knew to be the desert of Hãwaïda. He then commenced his search for the man in quest of whom he had travelled, and after he had wandered for some space, his ear was greeted by the welcome sound of “What I once saw, I long for a second time.” Hatim listened with attention, and three times did he distinctly hear this sound, after which all was silent. He proceeded in the direction in which the voice was heard, and for seven nights and days he thus advanced. On his way he often heard, the words repeated as it were before him, but never could he discover the person by whom they were uttered.

Hatim thus bewildered still advanced, when, lo! on the evening of the ninth day he saw an old man resting himself on the bare earth. Hatim approached and saluted the old man, who courteously returning his salutation, said to him, “Young stranger, whence came you, and what is your business here?” “Venerable Sir,” said Hatim, “my business here is to learn truly from you what is it that you have seen once, and long to behold a second time?” “Sit down by me,” said the aged man, “and I will tell you all.” Hatim set down, and in an instant two loaves and two flaggons full of pure water miraculously appeared before them. The old man handed to Hatim one of the loaves and one of the pitchers full of water, and reserved an equal quantity for himself, and both of them silently ate and drank. After their refreshment, Hatim addressed the old man, saying, “Venerable Sir, pray tell me the meaning of these words which you have so often repeated.” To this, the aged man replied, “I once upon a time arrived at the border of a lake, from the waters of which arose a damsel of angelic appearance, who, seizing me by the hand, hurried me into the midst of the deep. When I opened my eyes, I beheld to my astonishment a beauteous garden, from every quarter of which damsels fairest of form came in troops around me. At last they carried me into a palace, and left me standing beside a gorgeous throne, which I mounted, and then sat down, beholding with admiration the objects that presented themselves to my view. A beautiful damsel with a veil gracefully thrown over her face approached and stood before the throne. The instant I beheld her fairy form, I lost hold of the reins of my heart and became frantic. I removed the veil from her face; she smiled irresistibly, and my transport knew no bounds. I seized her hand in order to seat her upon the throne, when on a sudden another female form seemed to issue from the earth beneath us, and raising herself, she struck me a blow which hurled me into this desert. Here I wander restless and forlorn, and my thoughts are ever fixed on the image of that heart-ravishing angel.”

Thus spoke the aged man, and then sighing bitterly he shed a flood of tears, and like a maniac flew in every direction, crying aloud, “What I once saw, I long for a second time.” Hatim ran in pursuit of him, and seizing him by the arm, said to him, “Venerable Sir, will your mind be at ease if you should see that fairy form a second time?” “Assuredly, young man,” said he, “but the case is impossible.” “Follow me,” said Hatim, “and I will conduct you to her abode.” The old man joyfully accompanied Hatim; and after travelling for some days, they entered the shady groves on the banks of the lake already mentioned.

Hatim then addressed his aged companion saying, “Now, venerable Sir, when you again arrive in the enchanted place, if it be your wish to remain there admiring the angelic damsel, you must on no account seize her hand or remove her veil. If you lay hold of her hand, the same disaster from which you have now made your escape will again befall you, and your retracing your way back to that enchanted paradise will be impossible. That I have been enabled to do so, is owing to the kindness of a hermit of exemplary piety, who gave me proper directions when on my way hither. Do you now ascend into yonder tree on the border of the lake, and the naked nymph will arise out of the water as formerly.”

Here Hatim took leave of the old man, and the instant the latter ascended the tree that overhung the lake, the nymph gracefully arose out of the water, and seizing him by the hand hurried him into the midst of the deep. Hatim now began to retrace his steps towards Shahabad, and in a few days arrived at the abode of the hermit on the mountain, to whom he related his whole adventure. Hav­ing taken an affectionate leave of the hermit, he journeyed onwards till he arrived in the desert of the bears, where he spent a whole month enjoying the society of his beautiful wife, the bear’s daughter. That period having elapsed, he bade adieu to his wife and new kindred, and his next stage was the residence of the jackals. After parting with the latter, nothing occurred worth notice till his safe arrival in Shahabad, where he was recognized and conducted to the caravanserai by Husn Banu’s people. The Prince Munīr Shamī prostrated himself at Hatim’s feet, in order to give vent to his gratitude; but Hatim raised him to his bosom, and related to him all that he had seen.

Hatim, accompanied by the prince, waited upon Husn Banu, who having veiled herself, most courteously received them, and addressing Hatim, she said, “Tell me, brave youth, what news have you brought?” “An aged man,” replied Hatim, “in the desert of Hāwaïda once saw by the effect of magic a damsel of angelic form. She deprived him of his heart and of his senses, and since that time he has traversed the wilderness, crying aloud, ‘What I once saw I long for a second time.’” Hatim than gave a full account to Husn Banu of the nature of the enchanted paradise, and how he had conveyed the old man to the banks of the lake through which he might re-enter the magic scene. “In fine,” said Hatim, “those sounds shall be heard no more in the desert for I have conducted the old man to the abode of that Houri who had robbed him of his heart.

When Husn Banu heard the whole adventure, she expressed her admiration; and the nurse addressing her, said, “The youth speaks truly, for the case is really as he has related.” Food was then brought in, and Hatim was urged to take refreshment. This done, he said to Husn Banu, “The Supreme Creator has enabled me to explain one of your questions; let me now hear another, that I may endeavour to accomplish its solution.” “Rest yourself,” said Husn Banu, “for some days till you are recovered from your present fatigue.” Husn Banu at the same time was deeply though secretly enamoured of the prince Munir, but respect for her own dignity compelled her to abide by her decla­ration, and there was no resource except the solution of the seven questions.

Hatim and the prince Munīr rested for the night in the place of Husn Banu, and next day waited upon her for the purpose of taking of leave. Hatim requested to know her second question, which she told him, as follows: “I have heard,” said Husn Banu, “that a certain person has written above his door, ‘Do good and cast it upon the waters.’ What means this motto, and where lives the writer of it? Having investigated this mystery, return and tell me the result; that is, the good that he has done, and cast upon the waters.” Hatim then took leave of Husn Banu, and having soothed the anxiety of the prince Munīr, departed on his second adventure.

 
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