THE THIRTY-THIRD ASSEMBLY, CALLED
“OF TIFLIS.”

In this Assembly Abû Zayd presents himself in the guise of a mendicant, afflicted with a paralytical contortion of the face, before a congregation in Tiflis, whom Ḥârith had joined in the performance of the appointed prayers, and he obtains by an eloquent appeal to their commiseration, in rhymed prose and verse, a liberal supply of alms from the captivated audience. Ḥârith follows him, when he departs with his prey, and after having reached a secluded spot, Abû Zayd laughingly throws off his palsy and reveals his identity, anticipating the rebukes of his indignant friend with his usual frank avowal, that his necessity makes for him the law, if lawful means will not provide for his necessity. Yielding to the spell of his fascinating personality, Ḥârith accompanies him in his travels during two years, after the lapse of which he regrets that circumstances enforced their separation.

I had covenanted with Allah, be He exalted, since I was of the age of about a score, that I would not delay prayer as far as it was in my power, so that with my roaming in deserts, and in spite of the sport of leisure-hours, I kept the stated times of prayer and guarded myself from the sin of letting them slip by, and when I joined in a journey, and alighted in any place, I welcomed the summoner to it, and took pattern from him, who observed it religiously. Now it happened at a time when I had come to Tiflis, that I prayed together with a number of poorly-off people, and when we had finished prayer, and were about to go, there sallied forth an old man, with a face plainly contorted by palsy, worn of garments and strength, who said: “I conjure him, who has been made of the clay of liberality, and suckled of the milk of good fellowship, that he but spare me a moment’s hurrying, and listen to a few words from me, whereafter the choice belongs to him, and it rests with his hand to spend or refuse.” Then the people fastened their hoops to him [locked their knees together to him], and sat still like the hillocks. Now when he perceived how nicely they kept silent and how considerate they showed themselves in their demeanour [deportment] he said: “O ye, endowed with eyes clear of sight, and visions bright of percep­tion, does not eye-witnessing dispense with hearsay? and does not the smoke tell of the fire? Hoariness is apparent, and weakness oppressive, and disease manifest, and the inward state thus laid bare. Yet erewhile I was one of those who possess and bestow, who exercise authority and rule, who grant help and gifts, who assist and assault. But calamities ceased not to subvert, nor vicissitudes to take away scrap by scrap, till the nest was despoiled and the palm empty, privation became my raiment and bitterness my life-stay, my little ones whined from hunger and craved for the sucking of a date-stone. Yet withal I came not to stand in this place of ignominy and to disclose to you things [to be] hidden, but after I had suffered and was palsy-stricken, and had waxed grey from all I met with, and, oh! would that I had not been spared!” Then he sighed the sigh of the sorrowful, and indited with a feeble voice:

“I cry to the Compassionate, be praise to Him, for fortune’s fickle­ness and hostile rancour

And for calamities that have shattered my rock, and overthrown my frame and its foundations,

Have broken down my stem, and woe to him, whose boughs adversities pull down and break.

My dwelling they have wasted even as to banish from the wasted spot the rats themselves;

They left me bewildered and dazed, to bear the brunt of poverty and all its pangs,

While heretofore I was a lord of wealth, who trailed his sleeves along in luxury,

Whose leaves the supplicants beat freely down, whose hospitable fires night-farers praised;

But who is now, as though the world, that casts the evil eye on him, had never smiled on him,

From whom he turns who was his visitor, and whom he scorns to know who sought his gift.

So if a good man mourns the evil plight he sees an old man in, betrayed by fortune,

Then let him ease the sorrow that afflicts him, and mend the state that puts him thus to shame.”

Said the narrator: Now the company inclined to ascertain his condition, so as to find out what he might have concealed, and to sift the truth of his affair. So they said to him: “We know by this time the ex­cellence of thy degree, and the abundance of thy rain-cloud, but make now known to us the tree of thy branch, and withdraw the veil from thy descent.” Then he showed himself averse with the reluctancy of one whom misfortunes have befallen or to whom the tidings of daughters [born to him] have been brought, and he indited with emphatic utterance, although in a low voice:

“By thy life, I assure thee, not showeth the branch by the zest of its fruit from what root it has sprung,

So eat what is sweet, when it cometh to hand, and ask not the honey where swarmeth the bee!

And learn to discern, when thou pressest thy grapes, the must of thy press from the acid it yields,

That by testing thou value the costly and cheap, to buy and to sell all things by their likes;

For blame would accrue to the witty, the wise, if error of judgment were fastened on him.”

Then the people were roused by his sagacity and subtleness, and beguiled by the beauty of his delivery, along with his disease, so that they collected for him the hidden treasures of their belts and whatever was secreted in their breast-pockets, saying to him: “Thou hast drifted to a shallow well and repaired to an empty hive; so take this trifle [pittance] and reckon it neither a miss nor a hit.” Then he made much of their little, and accompanied its acceptance with thanks, whereupon he turned away, dragging half his body, and made off, stumbling on his road. Said the narrator of this tale: Now the fancy struck me, that he had disguised his appearance, and shammed in his gait, so I rose to thread his path and to track his traces, while he glanced at me askance and gave me a wide berth, until, when the road was clear and identification [the disclosure of the truth] became possible, he looked at me with the look of him who is friendly and glad of the meeting, and shows his true colours, after he had dissembled, saying to me: “I imagine thou art a brother of pere­grination, and looking out for companionship. Wouldst thou then fain have a mate who is kind to thee and helps thee, and is indulgent with thee and shares in thy expenses?” Said I to him: “If such a mate came forward, providence, indeed, would favour me.” He replied: “Thou hast found, so rejoice, and hast en­countered the generous, so cleave to him.” Then he had a long laugh, and stood before me, a sound man, when lo! it was our Shaykh of Serûj, with no ailment in his body, and nothing doubtful in his outward tokens. Then I rejoiced at meeting with him, and at the feignedness of his palsy, and bethought me of rebuking him for the evilness of his ways, but he opened his mouth and indited before I could chide him:

“I show me in rags, so that people may say, a wretch that for­bears with the hardships of times.

I feign to the world to be palsied of face, for often my heart thus obtaineth its wish;

Ay, but for my raggedness find I compassion, and but for the palsy I meet with my wants.”

Thereupon he said: “No pasture is left me in these parts, nor anything to be hoped for from their people, and if thou wilt be my mate, on our way with us, on our way!” So we fared forth from the place, we twain by ourselves, and I kept company with him for full two years, nay, I would fain have associated with him while my life lasts, but time, the disperser, forbade me.