The vazír said, ‘I have heard that two Pigeons consorted together in one nest, and dwelt in amity with one another in one abode, neither were their minds disturbed by rivals nor their hearts panged by misfortune. They contented themselves with water and grain, and like solitarily dwelling hermits, consigned themselves to reliance on the Divine will. One was named Bázindah,43a and the other Nawázindah. And both of them, evening and morning, were wont to sing, in unison, harmonious strains, and at all times, with soul-enlivening melodies, to utter various cooings.
Fortune was envious of the agreement of those sympathising friends, and the malevolent eyes of time threw their baleful influence on those two happy companions.
The desire of travel developed itself in Bázindah, and he said to his friend, ‘How long shall we continue in one nest and spend our time in one abode? I feel a desire of wandering through different parts of the world for two or three days, and putting in practice the high command, ‘Say, go through the earth’44 since in travel many marvellous things are seen and many experiences are gained, and the venerable have said, ‘Travel is the means of triumph.’ Until the scymitar comes forth from the scabbard on the battle-field of the brave, honor is not gained; and until the pen moves in the path of perambulation from its point,44a the painting of beautiful styles is not manifested on the page of existence. The sky which is ever journeying, is the highest of all things; and the earth which is ever quiescent, is trampled down and kicked by all beings both high and low.
Nawázindah said, ‘O my heart’s friend! thou hast not undergone the toils of travel, nor experienced the hardship of absence from friends, nor has the maxim, ‘Travel is travail,’ reached thy soul’s ear, nor has the stormy blast, ‘Parting is burning,’ blown on the garden of thy heart. Travel is a tree which brings forth no fruit but that of separation, and absence is a cloud which lets fall no drops but the rain of disgrace.
Bázindah said, ‘Although the trouble of travel is wearing to the mind, still it enlivens by visiting new countries and seeing the wonders of the world; and, moreover, when the disposition has become accustomed to the inconveniences of the journey, it is no longer harassed by them, and the toil of the road ceases to make the same impression on the spirits, in consequence of the interest taken in the wonders of the strange country.
Nawázindah said, ‘O beloved friend! the recreation of seeing various parts of the world and viewing the gardens of Iram, delights us if in the society of true companions and intimate friends; and when one has been separated from the happiness of seeing those with whom one is accustomed to be, it follows45 that one’s grief finds no solace from that amusement, nor is one’s sorrow to any extent alleviated by those spectacles; and I am of opinion, that the pain of separation from friends and the grief of parting from those we love, is the hardest of all pains and the most cruel of all griefs.
Now that, Praise be to God Most High! we have a corner and supply of food, draw the foot of freedom from care under the garment of welfare, and yield not the collar of sense to the grasp of lust.
Bázindah said, ‘O friend and consort! speak not another word of parting and separation, for sympathising friends are not wanting in the world, and he who parts from his friend, suffers no grief when he has met with another. If here I fail to encounter my friend, I shall in a short time bring myself into the society of a new soother of the heart, and thyself hast heard this saying which they have uttered,
I expect that after this, thou will not rehearse to me the volume of the toils of travel, for the flame of the labour of travel makes a man ripe,45b and no person of raw mind and reared in repose, can put to its speed the horse of expectation in the plain of hope.
Nawázindah said, ‘Dear friend, at this time that thou removest thy heart from the society of thy friends, thou hast severed the string of ancient amity. Thou mayest unite with new comrades, and the precept of the wise man, that
thou mayst transgress. What impression then will my word have on thee? Nevertheless,
Having here cut short their dialogue, they took leave of each other, and Bázindah tearing his heart from the society of his companion, issued forth on the wing.
With real curiosity and perfect gratification he traversed the expanse of air, and passed over lofty mountains and Eden-like gardens. All of a sudden at the skirt of a mountain—which boasted equality with the elevation of the highest heaven, and from greatness regarded the whole terrestrial globe as a mere hillock beneath its foot,—he saw a meadow. Its emerald surface was more heart-expanding than the garden of heaven, and the northern46 breeze, as it passed over loaded with perfume, was more fragrant than a bag of Tátárian musk.
Bázindah was pleased with that delightful spot and heart-expanding tract, and as day was closing, he in that very place unloosed the baggage of travel. As yet he had not rested from the toils of the way, nor breathed a moment in ease and comfort, when suddenly, the swift-stepping carpet-spreader, the wind, raised up the canopy of the clouds in the court of the air, and made the tranquil earth a pattern of the tumult of the Resurrection, through the uproar of the heart-terrifying thunder, and the dread of the bosom-rending lightning. The fire of the thunderbolts on one side consumed the heart of the spotted tulips, and on the other, the shaft of the hail nailed the eye of the wakeful narcissus to the target of the earth.
In such a time as this Bázindah had no shelter to secure him from the arrows of the thunder-cloud, nor corner where he could rest in safety from the violence of the intensely cold wind. At one moment he hid himself under a branch and at another time he sought to shield himself in the leaves of the trees, and every moment the affliction of the hail and rain increased, and every instant the terrors of the thunderbolts and the lightning waxed greater.
In brief, with a thousand sufferings he passed the night until day, and having no remedy, he endured that ill-timed calamity, and every moment his thoughts recurred to the quiet corner of his nest, and the society of his prudent friend, and he heaved a cold sign of regret and pain from his inflamed heart.
But when the vanguard of approaching day had made an impression, that instant the writing of the gloom of the thunder-cloud was obliterated from the page of time, and by the warmth of the world-irradiating sun, the expanse of the earth, and the surface of the world, received brightness.
Bázindah again rose on the wing, hesitating whether he should return to his home, or, whether since he had formed the resolution, he should upon the whole wander for two or three days through the regions of the world. In the meantime, a swift-winged, hard-taloned royal white falcon, which descends to the earth on the head of its quarry swifter than the rays of the sun, and when soaring on high reaches heaven quicker than the sight;
marked out Bázindah. When the poor Pigeon beheld the pitiless falcon, its heart began to flutter, and all strength and power of motion which existed in its limbs and members inclined to the regions of non-existence.
When Bázindah saw himself again entangled in calamity, he remembered the advice of his faithful friend, and clearly understood the crudeness of his own project, and the unreasonableness of his thoughts.
that if he should escape from that dangerous place in safety, and emerge from that terrible position into tranquillity, he would not allow his mind to entertain another thought of travel, and he would regard as an invaluable prize the society of his cordial friend, which now seemed to him as impossible to realize, as the philosopher’s stone,48 and for the remainder of his life would not so much as pronounce with his tongue, the name of travel.
By the blessing of that excellence of intention, which includes an increase of security, an opening of the door [of release] was obtained. In the very moment that the claw of the falcon was about bringing him into the grasp of possession, from another quarter a hungry eagle—from the injury of whose talons the sign Aquila was not safe in the nest of the sky, and who, when hungry, carried off from the meadow of heaven, the signs Aries and Capricorn,
—had mounted on the wing in search of food. When it beheld the state of the falcon and Pigeon, it said to itself, ‘Although this Pigeon is but a small mouthful, and a trifling morsel, nevertheless, upon the whole, one may break one’s fast upon it, and somewhat allay one’s impatient appetite.’ It made an effort to carry off the Pigeon before the falcon. Although the animal vigour which is implanted in the nature of the falcon cannot be placed in the balance with that of the eagle, still, the former did not weigh its approach, but engaged with it in the place of strife and contest, having taken its seat in the balance with it.
The two were occupied in fighting with one another, and Bázindah eagerly catching at the opportunity, threw himself under a stone and made room for himself in a hole into which it would have been impossible for a sparrow to enter, though it had been at pains to try; and therefore passed another night distressfully. When in the morning the white-pinioned dove of the dawn began to fly from the nest of heaven, and the dark-coloured raven of night began, like the ’Anḳá, to be hid from sight,48c and when
Bázindah, though from hunger he had not power to fly, began by some means or other to flutter and move his wings. Fearful and affrighted, he looked to left and right, and observed the utmost caution before and behind. On a sudden he beheld a pigeon, with a little grain scattered in front of it, and a thousand other devices and stratagems of the same kind employed. With Bázindah the host of appetite prevailed over the region of the body; when he beheld his own species, without reflection he went forward, and the grain had not yet reached his craw when his foot was entangled in calamity.
Bázindah began to reproach that pigeon, saying, ‘O brother! we are of the same species, and this accident has befallen me by reason of my homogeneousness with thee. Wherefore didst thou not acquaint me with these circumstances, nor fulfil the duties of courtesy and hospitality in order that I might have practised caution, and not thus fallen into the snare?’ The pigeon replied, ‘Leave off these words, for caution is unavailing against destiny, nor is it of any use to struggle against fate.
Bázindah said, ‘Art thou at all able to point out to me the way of escape from this calamitous strait? and then thou wouldst cast on my neck, till the day of resurrection, the chain of obligation.’ The pigeon replied, ‘O simple of heart! had I known a stratagem for escaping, I would have liberated myself from the snare, nor would I have become in the manner thou hast seen, the cruel cause49 of the capture of birds; and thy state is exactly like that of the young camel, which after going a long way, grew tired and said, with lamentation and entreaty, to its mother, ‘O unkind; stop just so long that I may recover myself and rest a moment from my weariness.’ The mother replied, ‘O thou without sight! dost thou not see that the end of the nose-string is in the hand of another. Had I, in brief, the power to choose, I would release my back from the load and thy foot from the journey.’
When Bázindah was thus rendered desperate, he began to tremble, and with his utmost efforts endeavoured to fly. As the string of his impulse was strong, the cord of the net, which in the lapse of time had become worn, was broken, and Bázindah finding his throat clear of the throttle of the net, flew pleased away, and turned his face in the direction of his native place. From joy at having obtained a light delivery from that weighty bond, his heart forgot the pangs of hunger, and in the midst of his flight, he arrived at a deserted village, and rested on the corner of a wall which was near a field of corn. A village boy who was watching the field, in his customary beat, passed near that deserted place. When his eye fell on the pigeon, the burning desire of roast meat emitted its smoke from his heart. From the palm of his hand50 he slipped a shell into his bow and drew up the string.50a Bázindah was not on the alert against that trick, and was turning towards the field and the open space and meadow, when suddenly, from the juggling of the deceitful heavens, the impression of the blow of that shell reached the feathers of that discomfited one. From excess of fear and terror, he fell head downwards to the bottom of a well which was at the foot of that same wall, which was a well such that, from its exceeding depth, the circle of the heavens appeared like a wheel at the top, and had they woven together the black and white thread of day and night, it would not have reached its bottom.
When the young rustic saw that what he wished for was at the bottom of the well, and that the cord of counsel was too short to reach there, he went away disappointed, and left that half-killed one in his painful imprisonment. In short, Bázindah, for another night and day, passed his time with broken heart and ruffled feathers, at the bottom of the well, and in despairing accents according with his state,50d his thoughts recurring to Nawázindah, he made mention of his feelings, of his hapless and outcast condition, and described his weakness and helplessness, and said,
Bázindah, the next day, by trying every way possible and all the devices he knew, brought himself to the top of the well, and weeping and bemoaning himself, at the mid-hour between sunrise and noon,51a arrived near his own nest. Nawázindah heard the sound of the wings of her friend, and flying forth to meet him from the nest, said,
And when she had embraced Bázindah, she found him excessively weak and thin. She said, ‘O beloved friend! where hast thou been? and what is the state of thy circumstances?’ Bázindah said,
As for the toil and travail and affliction, which have passed over me,
The sum of the matter is this, that I had heard that in travel, much experience is obtained; at length I have gained thus much experience, that so long as I live I will not make another journey, and, until I am compelled, I will not go forth from the corner of my nest, and by my own choice I will not exchange the happiness of beholding my friends for the pain of the struggles of exile.
And I have introduced this apologue that his majesty, the ruler of the world, may not exchange the dignity of a settled abode for the degradation of travel, and not voluntarily choose separation from friends and country, which has no other fruit but wretched bewailing and tearful eyes.”
Dábishlím said, ‘O wise vazír! although the labour of travel is great, its advantages, too, are beyond computation. When any one has fallen, in traveling, into the whirlpool of hardship, he becomes improved and polished, and experiences are acquired by him, from which, throughout his life, he may derive advantage; and indubitably complete advancement appears in travel, both external and internal. Seest thou not that the pawn by traveling six stages, owing to the knowledge it thus acquires, obtains the rank of a queen; and the light-speeding moon by a journey of fourteen nights, progresses from the place of a thin crescent to the dignity of the full orb.
And if a person subside into the corner of his wretchedness, and step not beyond his miserable home, he remains deprived of seeing the marvels of various countries, and devoid of the honour of waiting on the great amongst mankind. The falcon secures a place on the wrist of kings, because it crouches not in its nest; and the owl, because it cannot turn its inclinations from solitude, remains behind the wall of disgrace.
And one of the great sages inspired the whole body of his disciples with the desire of travel, by this,
And if that hawking-falcon, which grew up with the young of a kite, had remained in their nest, and had not winged its flight through the air in travel, it would not have attained the honour of the notice of a king.’ The vazír besought, saying, ‘How were the circumstances of that affair?’
King Dábishlím said, “I have heard tell that once on a time two hawks, swift of wing, consorted together, and their nest was on the crest of a mountain, such that the celestial eagle could not, by the power of its wing, approach it, and the constellation Aquila, in spite of soaring so high, could not reach its vicinity.
And they passed their time happily in that nest, and lived delighted and content in beholding each other.
After a time, God Most High vouchsafed them a young one. By reason of the innate affection53 which they felt at the sight of their son, both of them went in search of food, and brought viands of every description for their hearts’ treasure, and in a short time his strength began to increase. One day, having left him alone—each had gone somewhither, and a delay took place in their return,—the young hawk felt the cravings of hunger. He began to search [for food], and turning himself on every side, came to the edge of the nest. Suddenly he fell thence, prone towards the bottom of the mountain. It chanced that in that spot a kite had issued from its nest in quest of food, which it sought for its young, and as it sate, expectant, on the side of the mountain, its sight fell on that young hawk, which was descending from the top of the mountain to the bottom; it entered its imagination that it was a mouse which had escaped from the talons of a kite.
Without reflection, it made haste, and before it could touch the ground, seized it in mid-air, and carried it to its own nest, and on carefully examining it, by the character of its claws and beak, perceived that it belonged to the kind of hunting-birds, and through homogeneousness, pity sprang up in its heart, and it thought to itself: ‘The mercy of God is visible in this matter, and has made me the instrument of its preservation; and had I not been present in that spot, and this young bird had fallen from the top of the mountain on the ground, undoubtedly all its limbs and members had been parted from one another, and its bones would have been pulverised by dashing against the stone of misfortune, and would have been scattered like dust on the wind of annihilation; and since the divine decree has so required that I should be the means of its preservation, it is most right that it should participate in education with my sons, nay, that I should bring it up as a son, and that it should be ranged in the series of my other children.’ Then the kite, through pity, undertook the rearing of the young hawk, and treated it in the very same way as that in which it behaved towards its own young, until it grew up; and the original instincts which were innate in it, according to the saying ‘Mankind are mines like mines of gold and silver,’ began to develope and reveal themselves. Although it imagined that it was one of the sons of that kite, yet it saw that its aspect and courage, and the terror it inspired, was different from theirs. Often it wondered, saying, ‘If I do not belong to them, why am I in this nest? and if I am of this family, why am I opposed to them in form and qualities?
One day the kite said to the hawk, ‘O son, dear to my heart! I see that thou art very sad, and the cause of thy dejection is hid from me. If thou hast any wish in thy heart, disclose it to me that I may occupy myself in obtaining it; and if any desire passes through thy mind, make it known unhesitatingly, that to the extent of my power I may exert myself in accomplishing it.’ The hawk replied, ‘I, too, find in myself a feeling of dejection, and I do not know the cause of it, and if I know it I cannot tell it.
I now see it to be advisable that thou shouldest favour me with the honor of leave, that I may journey in various parts of the world for two or three days. Perchance, by the fortunate influence of movement, the dust of grief may be effaced from the page of my heart, and when my mind is occupied with the wonders and marvels of great cities and districts, it is possible that the form of cheerfulness may be manifested in the mirror of my mind.’ When the kite heard the mention of parting, anguish arose in his heart,54 and he said,
Then complaining, he added, ‘O son! what plan is this thou hast formed? and what thought is this thou hast entertained? speak not of travel, for it is a man-devouring sea, and a dragon which carries off human beings.
The cause, in general, why men make choice of traveling, is to procure the means of subsistence, or because they find it difficult to remain in their own country; and neither of these two things has happened to thee. Thanks be to God that our abode is a corner free from care, and that there is food procurable, sufficient for us to live upon, and thou hast exaltation above my other sons, and all those older55 than thee bow before thee. Notwithstanding all this, to choose to travel and abandon the pleasure of a settled abode, appears to be far from the path of good sense; and long ago they have said,
The hawk said, ‘What thou hast been pleased to say, is kindly and tenderly spoken; but whenever I meditate with myself, this corner and this food appear unworthy of my condition, and things pass through my mind which I am unable to express.’ The kite perceiving that the saying ‘Everything turns back to its original nature,’ was here made evident, stepped beyond the limits of this argument, and said, ‘That which I say is on the ground of contentment, and what thou sayest proceeds from greediness, and the greedy person is always disappointed; and as long as one is not contented, he finds no repose, and as thou art not thankful for the blessings of contentment, and knowest not the value of freedom from ease, I fear that that will befall thee which befell that greedy cat.’ The hawk asked ‘How was that?’
The kite said, ‘In former times there was an old woman in a state of extreme debility. She possessed a cot more narrow than the heart of the ignorant, and darker than the miser’s grave; and a cat was her companion, which had never seen even in the mirror of imagination, the face of a loaf, nor had heard from friend or stranger the name of meat. It was content if occasionally it smelt the odour of a mouse from its hole, or saw the print of the foot of one on the surface of a board, and if, on some rare occasion, by the aid of good-fortune and the assistance of happy destiny, one fell into its claws,
its cheek lighted up with joy, and it consumed its past sorrow with the flame of its natural heat, and a whole week, more or less, it subsisted on that amount of food, and used to say,
And inasmuch as the house of the old woman was the famine-year of that cat, it was always miserable and thin, and from a distance appeared like an idea. One day, through excessive weakness, it had, with the utmost difficulty, mounted on the top of the roof; thence it beheld a cat which walked proudly on the wall of a neighbouring house, and after the fashion of a destroying lion, advanced with measured steps, and from excessive fat, lifted its feet slowly. When the cat of the old woman, saw one of its own species in that state of freshness and fat, it was astonished, and cried out, saying,
Thou, whose state is thus pleasant, whence art thou? and since it appears that thou comest from the banquet-chamber of the Khán of Khaṭá,56 whence is this sleekness of thine, and from what cause this thy grandeur and strength?’ The neighbour-cat replied, ‘I am the crumb-eater of the tray of the sulṭán. Every morning I attend on the court of the king, and when they spread the tray of invitation, I display boldness and daring, and in general I snatch off some morsels of fat meats, and of loaves made of the finest flour; and I pass my time happy and satisfied till the next day.’ The cat of the old woman, inquired ‘What sort of a thing may fat meat be? and what kind of relish has bread, made of fine flour? I, during my whole life, have never seen nor tasted aught save the old woman’s broths, and mouse’s flesh.’ The neighbour-cat laughed, and said, ‘Therefore it is, that one cannot distinguish thee from a spider, and this form and appearance that thou hast, is a reproach to our whole race; and the shape and character which thou hast brought from the house to the desert, is an eternal56a disgrace.
And if thou shouldst see the court of the sulṭán, and smell the odour of those delicious viands and agreeable meats, it is probable that the mystery, ‘Who shall restore bones to life when they are rotten,’56b may come forth from the curtain of what is hidden, to the plain of manifestation, and thou mayst acquire a fresh form.’
The cat of the old woman, said, most beseechingly, ‘O brother! thou art bound to me by the rights of neighbourship and the link of homogeneousness, why not perform what is due to courtesy and fraternity, and this time, when thou goest, take me with thee; perchance, by thy good fortune, I may obtain food, and by the blessing of thy society, I may acquire a place.
The heart of the neighbour-cat melted at his lamentable position, and he resolved that he would not attend the feast without him. The cat of the old woman, from the happy tidings of this promise, felt new life, and descending from the roof, stated the case to her. The old dame began to advise the cat, saying, ‘O kind companion, be not deceived by the words of worldly people, and abandon not the corner of content, for the vessel of covetousness is not filled save with the dust of the grave; and the eye of lust is not stitched but with the needle of annihilation and the thread of death.’
The cat had not taken into its head a longing for the table of the delicacies of the sulṭán, to such an extent only as that the medicine of advice could be profitable to it.
In short the next day, along with its neighbour, the old woman’s cat, with tottering steps conveyed itself to the court of the sulṭán, and before that helpless one could arrive57b there, ill-fortune had poured the water of disappointment on the fire of its crude wish, and the reason was as follows:—The day before, the cats had made a general onslaught on the table, and raised a clamour and uproar beyond bounds, and had annoyed, to the last degree, the guests and their host. Wherefore, on this day, the sulṭán had commanded that a band of archers, with swiftly impelling notches, standing in ambush,57c should watch, so that for every cat, who holding before its face the buckler of impudence, should enter the plain of audacity, the very first morsel that it ate, should be a liver-piercing shaft. The old woman’s cat, ignorant of this circumstance, as soon as it smelt the odour of the viands, without the power of checking itself, turned its face like a falcon, to the hunting-ground of the table, and the scale of the balance of appetite had not yet been weighted by heavy mouthfuls, when the heart-piercing arrow quivered in its breast.
‘And I have introduced this apologue, that thou, too, mayest regard the secluded corner of my nest as a blessing, and mayest understand the value of the food and morsels, which reach thee, untoiled for by thee; and showing thyself contented with a little, mayest not seek for more, lest, God forbid! thou arrive not at the condition thou seekest, and this place, too, depart from thy hand.’ The hawk said, ‘What thou hast been pleased to say, is the essence of good advice and kindness, nevertheless, to stoop to trifles is the business of the mean, and to show content with mere eating and drinking, is the disposition of brutes. Every one who would sit on the throne of greatness must rise up in pursuit of high things, and he who wishes to put on his head the crown of exaltation, must belt himself with the girdle of search. A lofty spirit is not satisfied with low things, and a noble intellect approves not of base positions.
The kite said, ‘This idea that thou hast taken into thy head, will not be realised by mere imagining; and this cauldron of desire, will not reach the boiling point by vain longing. No affair makes progress, unless the means are ready; and no result manifests itself, unless men first take order for the pre-requisites.
The hawk said, ‘The strength of my claws is the best means of procuring the blessings of fortune, and the power of my beak the best way of obtaining the grades of high rank. But, perhaps, thou hast not heard the story of that swordsman who sought kingship and rule by the help of the arm of courage, and, finally, the robe of his noble spirit was adorned with the fringe of sovereignty?’ The kite inquired ‘How was this matter?’
The hawk said, ‘In ancient times there was a poor mechanic at his wit’s end to maintain his family, and who, from extreme distress, had never read a single letter from the page of pleasure, and the gains of whose craft sufficed not for more than the expenses of his family, and the emoluments of whose profession went not beyond providing bread and raiment. The favour of God, (May his glory be magnified!) bestowed on him a dear son, on whose front the tokens of greatness were manifest; and on whose countenance the signs of high fortune were apparent.
By the blessing of his footsteps, the state of his father became one of cheerfulness,59 and, by his happy auspices, the income from his craft began to exceed his expenses. The father, regarding his footsteps as auspicious, caused him, to the extent of his power at the time, to be educated; and the boy, in his childhood, was wont to speak of nothing but archery, and continually played with shield and sabre. When they conveyed him to school, he would suddenly make off and appear in the midst of the plain; and whenever they instructed him in writing, his thoughts darted away to the straight spear.59a He was always reading the inscription of conquest from the lines of the sabre, and ever perusing, from the ornaments of the shield,59b the sketch of ennoblement.
When from the stage of childhood he arrived at the boundaries of puberty, his father said, ‘O son, my mind is entirely bent on thy state, and the period of manhood has no relation to the season of boyhood. The marks of audacity and hardihood are very manifest on the pages of thy condition. I wish that before evil dispositions cast thee into the perils of lust, I may make the strong fortress, ‘Whoever marries, verily he perfects half his religion,’60 thy mansion; and now I have arranged the hand of promise, fitting thy condition, in order that I may draw into the bands of marriage with thee, a lady from a tribe which may be equal to ours. What dost thou think adviseable herein?’ The son said, ‘O father! I have already given the hand of promise to the high person on whom my heart is set, and have deposited in cash for her, the marriage portion due in case of divorce. I will not trouble you in this affair, nor do I expect aid or assistance therein.’ The father said, ‘O son! I have perfect cognizance of all thy affairs. Thou hast not sufficient means of assistance that thou couldest rightly perform thy betrothal. What thou sayest thou hast prepared, whence is it? and what sort of bride is it that thou wooest?’ The son went into the house, and brought out a sword a hundred times more sanguinary than the glance of the beautiful, and a thousand degrees more lustrous than the teeth of the carnelian-lipped fair. Then he said, ‘O father! know that I will plight my troth to the bride of empire, and will unite myself, in the nuptial knot, with the chaste virgin of sovereignty; and for her there is no better plighted troth than a sharp sword, and no fairer portion than a blood-shedding poniard.’
And since the spirit of that young man was restricted to [the acquisition of] empire, in a short space of time he took possession of an extensive kingdom, and by the stroke of the world-subduing blade, he conquered various countries of the world: and hence they have said,
‘And I have introduced this story in order that thou mayest know, that, whatever can be mentioned as belonging to fortune, I already possess, and the Divine providence has opened the gates of happiness before the face of my condition, and I, too, am in hopes that I shall shortly arrive at my desire, and reach the hand of my desire to the neck of its object. And now by no charming of any one, will I give up this condition or abandon this idea.
The kite perceived that that high-spirited bird would not be brought into the net by the string of wiliness, nor be caught by the grain of deceit and artifice. It was, therefore, compelled to suffer it to travel, and applied to its own wounded breast, the cautery of separation. The hawk, having taken leave of the kite and its young ones, flew from the nest and soared on high; and after it was tired, descended on the top of a mountain, and opened the eye of observation in every direction. All at once, it saw a mountain-partridge, which had begun to walk proudly along in perfect beauty, while the sound of its jocund cry reverberated through all parts of the mountain. The hawk found in its nature an eager desire to hunt the partridge, and in one pounce, filled its crop with the flesh of its breast, which was agreeable to its appetite. It found the flesh of such a sort that the deliciousness of its flavour, equalled the water of life, and the delicacy of its taste boasted an equality with the relish of the most surpassing dainties, [according to the saying] ‘And the flesh of birds of the kind which they shall desire,’61 and as during the whole period of his life it had never tasted flesh of such delicacy, it exclaimed,
It then reflected, ‘This, of itself, among the advantages of travel, suffices me, that thus early I have escaped from coarse food, and have obtained the flavour of viands which are agreeable to my mind, and have been elevated from a dark and narrow nest and low and mean-spirited companions, to exalted places and lofty situations.
[Let us wait to see] what happy fortune will next advance from the corner of the unknown future to the area of visibility.’
Then the hawk, swift of flight, passed some days in flying about at pleasure, and merrily chased the partridge and quail, till one day it was perched on the top of a mountain, at the skirt of which it beheld a number of horsemen who had formed line in hunting, while their falcons swooped in pursuit of the quarries.
Now this was the king of the country who had come out with his attendants for his accustomed sport of hawking, and the place where the game fed happened to be the skirt of that mountain. Meanwhile the hawk which was on the King’s wrist flew and made a stoop at a quarry, and this high-couraged hawk also stooping at the same prey, presently carried it off before the other. When the King’s glance fell on its swiftness of flight, and rapid seizure, his heart was set upon it, and the high mandate went forth, so that dexterous fowlers, by ingenious stratagems, cast a snare round its neck, and by the guidance of fortune, it attained the honor of serving the monarch. The gracious regard of the King became confirmed with reference to its natural aptitude and innate merit, and after a short time its post was fixed by the favouring aid of fortune, on the wrist of the Prince, and by means of its lofty spirit it rose from the abyss of degradation and abasement, to the pinnacle of honor and prosperity, and if it had been content with the society of crows and kites, in the same spot where it first abode, and for the sake of travel, had not measured the regions of the desert and the tract of the wilderness, its attaining this rank, and its promotion to this dignity, would have been of the number of impossibilities, and I have cited this apologue that it may be understood, that in travel the most complete exaltation is attained, and that it conducts a man from the most utter meanness of baseness and obscurity, to the loftiest place of approval and splendour.’
And when the discourse of Dábishlím was ended, the other vazír advanced and performed the customary ceremonies of prayerful salutation, and said, ‘That which his imperial Majesty, the shadow of God, has been pleased to say in explanation of travel and its advantages, does not belong to such a class of things that the suspicion of doubt can approach it, nevertheless it occurs to the mind of your slave, that for the angelically-gifted62c person of the King, on whose safety the happiness of the world is dependent, to voluntarily undertake the toil of travel, and to migrate from the exhilarating garden of pleasure into the heart-afflicting desert of sorrow and labour, appears distant from the ways of wisdom.’ Dábishlím said, ‘The undertaking toil is the part of men of courage, and the business of the lions of the forest of war; and indubitably until the skirt of the pleasant life of kings is impinged on the thorn of trouble, the flower of tranquillity does not blossom for their weak subjects in the garden of freedom from care, and so long as the foot of high-spirit of monarchs has not traversed the wilderness of calamity, the head of the indigent poor does not touch the pillow of repose.’
And know that there are two classes of mankind, one, kings, to whom has been given the dignity of ruling over states, and imperial sway: and the other, subjects, on whom is bestowed the favour of security and repose. These two kinds do not admit of combination, but it is necessary either to choose ease and abandon the reigns of dominion, or to be contented with the honor of kingly power, and draw back the hand from delight and leisure.
And the wise have said, ‘Labour is the way to wealth,’ and exertion elevates the seeker on the post of success, and to traverse the wastes of struggling with the step of constancy, brings the beauty of the desired object under the gaze of inspection. The acquirement of things wished for depends on attempting things perilous.
Every one who raises the banner of exertion in the plain of courage, and puts away the qualities of indulgence and listlessness in undertaking toils, has taken the shortest path to his object, and has looked on the countenance of his wish with the eye of hope, like that Tiger who entertained a desire to rule over the joy-expanding wilderness, and by the blessing of toil and exertion which he employed, and by the auspicious influence of patient endurance of severe sufferings and disagreeables which he displayed, in a short time the veil of hindrance fell off from the face of his wish, and he advanced the hand of hope to the skirt of his object.’ The vazír inquired ‘In what manner was this affair?’
King Dábishlím said, ‘In the environs of Baṣrah64 there was an island of an excessively pleasant climate, and a desert of surpassing beauty and frcshness, where limpid waters flow on every side, and a life-bestowing zephyr breathes around.
And from its excessive exquisiteness they called it the ‘Joy-expanding Wilderness,’ and a Tiger bore sway there, such that from dread of him fierce lions could not set foot in that retreat, and from awe of him the wild beasts and savage animals could not allow the thought of that solitude to encircle their minds.
He had lived much time in that wild, according to his wish, and had never seen the form of disappointment in the mirror of existence. He had a young one whose countenance made the world seem bright to him, and in meeting which lustre of his eyes, his vision was enlightened. His intention was that when that young one came to years, and stained his teeth and claws in the gore of wild beasts, he would commit that solitude to his charge, and pass the rest of his life at ease in the corner of retirement. The blossom of his wish had not yet expanded on the stem of desire, when the autumn of death gave the fruit of the garden of his existence to the wind of destruction.
And when this Tiger was seized by the claw of the lion, Death, several wild beasts who for a long time entertained a desire for that wilderness, made a unanimous movement, and set about appropriating it. The young tiger saw that he possessed not the strength to resist. He went voluntarily into exile, and amongst the wild beasts a huge contest arose. A blood-spilling, tumult-causing lion, overcame all the others, and brought by conquest that joy-expanding wilderness which resembled Paradise, into the area of his own possession, and the young Tiger having for some time endured distress in the mountains and wastes, conveyed himself to another haunt, and disclosed the affliction of his heart to the wild beasts of that district, and asked their aid to remedy this interruption [of his happiness]. They, having received intelligence of the victory of the predaceous lion and of the overpowering might of that martial king of beasts, rejected with aversion [the request for] help and assistance, and said, ‘O unfortunate! thy place is now in the possession of a lion such that from terror of him the birds will not fly over that wilderness, and from fear of him the elephant will not approach that desert. We have not strength to fight with him, nor to sustain his teeth and claws, and thou too art not able to enter with him the arena of strife and encounter. Our opinion demands that thou shouldst betake thyself to his court, and with perfect loyalty enter his service.’
These words seemed reasonable to the young Tiger, and he looked upon his best course to be this, that he should voluntarily enter the service of the lion, and to the extent of his ability, offer the duties of attendance. He, therefore, put in practice the maxim ‘Returning is best,’ and through the intervention of one of the nobles, he obtained the honor of waiting on the lion, and having become the object of the imperial regard, was appointed to an office suited to his spirit. The tiger having tightly fastened the belt of obedience on the waist of affection, displayed the marks of prudence and dutiful service in such a manner as every moment to cause an increase of nearness to the king’s presence, and an augmentation of the royal favour to such an extent, that he became an object of envy to the nobles and ministers of his majesty; in spite of which every instant his painstaking and zeal in the service waxed greater, and he incessantly displayed increased exertion, in the affairs of the state.
Once upon a time an important and necessary affair arose which called the lion away to a distant jungle; and at that time the heat of the oven of the sky, was unmitigated,66 and the expanse of waste and mountain, like a furnace of glass, fiercely inflamed. From the excessive heat of the air, the brain of animals was boiled in their cranium, and the crabs in the water were fried like fish in the frying-pan.
The lion reflected, ‘At such a time, when the shell at the bottom of the deep, like a fowl on a spit, is roasting; and the ocean, from fear of the sun’s heat, steps not in the midst66a of the fire to the shore, an affair of this importance has occurred. Who may there be among my attendants, who would not be affected by the labour? and who, undeterred by the heat of the atmosphere, would approach this undertaking?’ In the midst of this reflection, the Tiger came in with the line of attendants, and observed that the king was thoughtful. On the ground of his abundant affection and complete tact, he advanced near the throne of royalty, and was emboldened to ask the causes of that thoughtfulness, and having learned how the case stood, he took upon himself to accomplish the matter, and having been honored with permission, he set off with a body of attendants, and arriving at that place at noon, he betook himself to the accomplishment of the affair, and the instant that the business was settled to his satisfaction, he changed his reins to return. The officers and counsellors, who had been appointed to attend upon him, unanimously represented as follows: ‘In such heat as this, all this distance has been traversed by the steps of completion, and now that the affair has been settled and that there is not the slightest cause for uneasiness; and the confidence placed in you by his high majesty, has been demonstrated to the extent that it has, it will certainly not be removed from advisability, if you should repose a short time under the shade of a tree, and allay the fiery tongue of thirst by drinking cool water.’
The Tiger smiled and said, ‘My intimacy and rank with his majesty the king, is a banner that I have by toil and effort set up. It would not be well to level it with the ground by indulgence and sloth. Without supporting trouble it is impossible to arrive at the carrying off treasure, and unaccompanied by the heart-afflicting thorn, we cannot reap the enjoyment of surveying the rose-garden.
The informers furnished intelligence of this to the lion, and recited the book of this affair, from the preface to67 the conclusion. The lion nodded the head of approval, and said, ‘Such a person is fit for sway and chieftainship, who can raise up his head from the collar of toil;67a and the people may be at peace in the just reign of that ruler who does not place his head on the pillow of repose.’
He then sent for the Tiger, and having distinguished him with special honors, committed that jungle to him, and having bestowed on him the place of his sire, conferred on him, in addition, the dignity of being his heir. And the use of this apologue is, that thou mayest learn that to no one does the sun of his wish rise from the eastern quarter of hope, without the diligent use of great exertion; nor, without complete and searching labour, does the preamble of hope yield the issue of the acquirement of the desired object.
And since in this journey the object is the quest of knowledge, I have formed a firm resolution, and have placed the foot of endeavour in the stirrup of intention. From the mere thought of the labour which may accrue in going67b and returning, the page of my purpose shall not receive the inscription of abrogation, and the cavalier of lofty spirit, will not turn back from this path, ‘This is a matter that is absolutely determined.’67c
When the vazírs perceived that the prohibitions of advice could not prevent the king’s purpose, they conformed to his opinion, and employed themselves in preparing the necessary articles for the march; and having paid the congratulations usual on commencing a journey, repeating this couplet, they sent up shouts to the revolving vault of heaven:
Then the King Dábishlím committed the reins of public affairs to the hand of the good sense of one of the pillars of the state in whom he reposed confidence, and repeated in the ear of his intelligence, with reference to the tender treatment of his subjects and protection of his people, certain words of advice which might serve as the fringe of the robe of kingly power: and among them the following,
And when his mind was relieved from the cares of state, he turned his face with a retinue of chosen attendants and servants, towards Sarándíp, and, like the moon, advanced stage by stage, and, like the sun, proceeded from city67e to city,67f and at every halting-place he made the acquisition of new experiences, and from every caravan he gained fresh advantages, until after traversing the stages of land and sea, and enduring the hardships of cold and heat, the shores of Sarándíp appeared to him, and the fragrant breezes of that country reached the nostrils of the king.
And after he had rested from the fatigues of his journey for two or three days in the city of Sarándíp, and had left his superfluous baggage there, he turned his face with two or three of his confidential attendants towards the mountain, and when he had ascended its heights, he beheld an elevation which cast the shadow of its skirt on the sun, and the glitter of whose peak69 threw its radiance on the beams of the planet Mars.
On every side were meadows adorned with a variety of fragrant herbs, and in all directions flower-gardens, which resembled the abundant delights of Paradise.
Dábishlím perambulated it on every side, and made the devotional circuit of its holy places. In the midst of this going to and fro, his eyes fell on a cave, the darkness of which matched the light of the eye,69b and the mysterious saying, ‘Light in darkness,’ was illuminated by its gloom. By searching inquiry of those who lived near those places, he learned that it was the abode of a sage whom they called Bídpáí, that is to say, ‘the kind physician,’69c and that from certain of the great men of Hind, it had been heard that his name was Pílpáí, which, in Hindí they call Hastí-pát, and that he was a man who had ascended the steps of learning, and had adorned, with the ornaments of excellent qualities, the jewel of reason: and at that period had abandoned the society of men, and contenting himself with a small pittance, had sewed up his eyes from things connected with the world, and consumed with the flame of the fire of abstinence, the rubbish of unholy dispositions. The eye of his wakefulness, from the excess of his vigils, beheld not the countenance of sleep, and the ear of his senses, from the extent of his abstinence, heard nought but the summons, ‘God inviteth unto the dwelling of peace.’69d
Dábishlím, in the desire of meeting him, stood some time without the cave, and, by the language of gesture, asked of the inward [soul] of that perfect saint, permission to come as a pilgrim to him. The clear-minded sage—by secret inspiration and intelligence, free from doubt—obtained information of the meaning of the world-conquering king, and uttered the cry, ‘Enter ye therein in peace and security.’69f
He looked and beheld a Bráhman, who had stepped with the foot of abrogation into the world of retirement, and had unfurled the pennon69i of truth in the plain of subtlety. Angelic mind revealed itself in his human countenance, and the cleanliness of his body was a manifest demonstration of the purity of his spirit. The king sagaciously discerned that he should obtain from him his wish, and by the auspicious influence of his spirit, would arrive at his object. With all respect he advanced towards him, and when he drew near the Bráhman, he performed due salutation and fulfilled the requisite homage. The Bráhman after receiving and replying to the salute, and performing the conventional compliments, signed [to the king] to sit; and having inquired of him as to the fatigues of the road, asked the reason of his taking on himself the trouble of the journey and abandoning the pleasure of a fixed residence. Dábishlím repeated, from beginning to end, the story of his dream, and of the treasure and the testament, and the consignment of its completion to Sarándíp. The Bráhman smiled and said, ‘Honor to the high spirit of the king! that in the pursuit of wisdom he takes upon himself all this toil, and, on account of the repose of his oppressed subjects and the peace of the poor among his people, accepts various kinds of labour and trial.
Then the Bráhman having opened the lid of the casket of secret knowledge, filled the shell of the king’s ear with the jewels of wisdom, and putting aside his own avocations for some days, employed himself in instructing the monarch, and in the midst of their converse, mention was made of the testament of Húshang. The king recounted to the sage, the precepts, one by one; and the Bráhman addressed the great monarch on the subject: and Dábishlím indited his words, with the pen of understanding, on the tablet of memory; and the book ‘Kalílah and Damnah,’ is composed of the questions and answers of the King and Bráhman; and we have arranged it in fourteen chapters, after the manner set forth in the catalogue of the book, and, ‘Aid is from God from whom help is supplicated; He is sufficient for us, and in Him is our trust.’
The great king Dábishlím said to the Bráhman Pílpáí, ‘The purport of the first precept was, that when one is exalted by being honored with the confidence of kings, he will assuredly be envied by his peers, and those who envy him, endeavouring to destroy the pedestal of his honor, will, by deceitful words, work a change in the king’s disposition towards him. Wherefore it behoves a king to ponder well on the speech of interested persons; and, on discovering that it is not devoid of an admixture of falsehood and corruption, not to conduct it to the confines of acceptance.
And I make my request to the Bráhman, that he may be pleased to relate a story suitable to this case, and may detail the history of some one who was the intimate counsellor of a king, and the basis of whose dignity was injured by the interested words of an envious person, and with whom friendship terminated in enmity, and concord in contention.’ The Bráhman said, ‘The centre of the basis of dominion, rests on this precept, and if a king does not deter interested persons from mischief and injurious acts, they will bring the majority of the nobles, to misery and disgrace; and hence complete disorder will find its way into the empire, and spread even to the prince; and when a mischief-maker has found the means of coming between two friends, the conclusion of their affairs will assuredly draw towards a terrible and disastrous catastrophe, as befell between the Lion and the Ox.’ The king asked, ‘How was that?’
The Bráhman said, ‘They have related, that there was a trader who had compassed land and sea, and traversed the regions of east and west, and experienced the chills and heats of fortune, and tested the sweets and bitters of many72 days.
When the van of Death’s array—for so the infirmity of age is termed—began to make inroads into the realm of his constitution, and the advanced guard of fate, by which white hairs are implied, took possession of the outworks of the fortress of his existence,
The merchant knew that every moment they were about to beat the drum of departure, and would demand back the stock of life which they had deposited in the tabernacle of the body. He assembled his sons, three youths, intelligent and learned, but who, from the pride of riches, and the inpetuosity of youth, had overstepped the path of moderation, and extended the hand of expenditure to the property of their father; and having averted their faces from business and professional employment, passed their precious time in vanity and sloth. Their kind father, from excess of that affection and tenderness which fits the character of the paternal relation, began to admonish them, and opened to them the gates of disinterested advice, which comprehended all the topics of fear and hope: and said, ‘O youths! if ye understand not the value of the property, in the acquisition of which ye have suffered no toil, ye are excusable in the judgment of men of wisdom, but ye ought to know that wealth may be made the source of happiness in this world and in that which is to come, and whatever men seek of every degree in the two worlds may be secured by means of wealth, and all people seek for one of three conditions. The first is abundance of worldly goods and an ample supply of effects and chattels, and this is desired by the class whose mind is limited to drinking and dress, and labouring for the fulfilment of sensual gratifications. The second condition is exalted rank and elevation in dignity, and the class whose object this is, is that of the nobility and men of office; and it is impossible to attain these two conditions save by wealth. The third condition is the obtaining the reward of a future state, and the arriving at the grades of religious excellence; and the class who look to this object are the people of salvation and pious eminence; and the acquisition of this dignity may be through lawful wealth, [according to the saying,] ‘Good is pure wealth to the man that is pure,’73 and the Great Doctor of Mysticism has said in his Poem.73a
Wherefore it is plain that by the blessing of wealth, most objects of pursuit are attained, and to get wealth without a profession, and the due quest of it, appears impossible, and if a person, as is rarely the case, obtains it without toil, inasmuch as he has not undergone labour in acquiring it, he will assuredly, through not knowing its worth and value, quickly pass it from his hands. Therefore, having averted your faces from sloth, incline towards the acquisition of money, and employ yourselves in the same profession of traffic in which ye have for many years seen me engaged.’ The eldest son said, ‘O Father! thou enjoinest us to acquire money, and this is repugnant to dependence on God, and I feel assured that whatever is predestined to me by fate will accrue to me although I employ no labour or exertion for it, and as to that which is not my destiny, however much I may exert myself in pursuit of it, it will be all in vain.
And I have heard that a sage has said, ‘That which was my destiny, though I have fled from it, has adhered to me; and that which was not fated for me, however much I have stuck to it, has fled from me.’ Wherefore, whether we undertake a profession or not, it is all the same.
Accordingly, the story of those Two Princes is a proof of this, since one of them gained the treasure of his father without toil, and the other—in the hope of that treasure—lost his country and the sovereignty.’ The father asked, ‘How was that?’
The son said, ‘In the country of Ḥalab,74 there was a king of prosperous fortune, and a sovereign of extensive sway, who had experienced many vicissitudes, and seen many revolutions of night and day: and he had two sons who were immersed in the whirlpool of the vanity of youth, and intoxicated with the inebriation of the wine of prosperity, inclined to gaiety and mirth, and employed in pleasure and amusement, while they listened to the melody of this song from the voice of harp and bell.74a
The king was a wise and experienced man; and he possessed an abundant supply of jewels, and immense treasures in money. After considering the habits of his sons, he feared, lest, after he was gone, they should cast those hoards that he had acquired into the place of dissipation, and give them, on the occasion of their requirement, to the wind of destruction. And in the neighbourhood of that city, there was a holy man, who had turned his back on worldly things, and was looking to prepare a store for the final state.
The monarch had a strong attachment to him, and reposed exceeding confidence in him. He commanded all his treasures to be collected, (and in such a way that no one heard of it), buried them in the abode of the holy man, and left this parting injunction to the saint, that, when fickle fortune and unstable rank, should avert their faces from his sons, and the fount of prosperity, which, like the mirage, possesses nought but a semblance of reality, should be filled up with the mire of adversity, and his sons should become poor and necessitous, he should inform them of that treasure; since, perchance, after seeing ill-fortune and experiencing trouble, they might be schooled, and expend it in a right way; and having turned from profusion and dissipation, might observe the path of moderation. The holy man accepted the king’s bequest; and the latter with a view to his present object, prepared a deep pit in one of his palaces, and made it appear as though he was burying his treasures there, and caused his sons to be informed, that when necessity shewed itself, a sufficient store, which would amply supply their wants, was there treasured, and after these circumstances, in a short time, both the king and the holy man accepted the divine invitation, and became insensible from the cup of ‘Every soul shall taste of death.’75
And that hoard which was buried in the cell of the devotee, remained hidden and concealed; nor did any one obtain information of it. The brothers, after the death of their father, fell to strife and contention, with regard to the division of his dominions and treasure, and the elder brother, by strength and valour, having got the mastery, took possession of all the effects, and left his younger brother afflicted and destitute. The hapless [prince] deprived of all share in the office of government, and of all part of his patrimony, thought to himself that as the sun of good fortune and power had set its face towards the western region of decline, and Heaven, exercising cruelty, had displayed the quality of insincerity and alienation; to turn the face a second time in search of worldly things, and to attempt again the once-attempted could effect no useful result.
‘There is nothing better,’ thought he, ‘than that, as the collar of fortune has escaped from the grasp of choice, I should take hold of the skirt of reliance on God and contentment, and not let go the dignity of the Darvesh, which is a sovereignty without decay.
With this resolution he issued from the city, and said to himself, ‘Such a one, the devotee, was the friend of my father; my advisable course is to turn my face towards his cell, and at his feet commit the conduct of my devotions to the direction of abstinence.’ When he reached the abode of the holy man, he found that the parrot of his soul had taken flight from the cage of the body, towards the Paradise of ‘In a lofty garden,’76 and that the cell of that luminous mind remained empty. For a time grief and dejection at the circumstance overcame him. At length he chose that very spot for his abode, and by way of discipleship he became the occupant and attendant76a of that cell, and near the hermitage was a water-course, and they had dug a well outside the edifice, and made a way from it to the water-course, whence water flowed continually into the well, and the people of the hermitage76b made use of it, and bathed and performed their ablutions with it. One day the prince let down a bucket into the well. There was no sound of water, and on his examining it carefully, there was no water at the bottom of the well. He reflected, saying, ‘Alas! what accident has happened that no water comes into this well, and if a complete stoppage has found its way to the well, and the water-course, and it is altogether worn out, it will be impossible to continue longer in this abode.’ Then in order to learn the certainty of the matter, he descended into the well, and minutely inspected the sides and all parts of it, and the channel by which the water came.76c All of a sudden an excavation met his view, from which a portion [of masonry] had fallen into the channel of the water and prevented it from flowing into the well. He reflected, ‘Ah! whither does this excavation go? And where does this cavity issue?’ He then made the cavity larger, and he no sooner stepped into it than he came upon the treasure of his father. When the Prince beheld that wealth and immense sum of money, he prostrated himself in thanks to God, and said, ‘Although this wealth is vast, and these gems beyond calculation, still I must not swerve from the path of reliance on God, and the highway of contentment, and I must limit my expenses to my wants.
On the other side, the elder brother being firmly established in his dominions took no thought for his subjects, and his army, and in hope of the imaginary treasure which he fancied to be in the palace of his father, expended all that he could lay his hands upon, and from excess of haughtiness and pride, made no enquiries after his brother, and was ashamed of showing attachment to him. Suddenly an enemy arose against him, and with a numerous and warlike army advanced into his country. The Prince found his treasury empty, and his army unprovided and distressed. He went to the place where his father had pointed out the treasury, in order that with that abundant wealth he might prepare a numerous host, [according to the saying,], ‘There is no king without men, and no men without money.’ The more he exerted himself the less could he find any trace of the treasure, and the more he toiled and laboured the farther was he excluded from obtaining his object.
And when he had altogether lost all hope of finding the treasure by a variety of devices, after issuing bonds,77 he contrived to get together a force, and directing his course to repel the enemy, issued from the city. After the lines of battle had been drawn up on both sides, and the fire of slaughter had been kindled, an arrow from the ranks of the enemy’s force struck the elder Prince in a mortal place, and he fell dead on the spot; and from this side also, they discharged a shaft, and the strange king too was slain, and both armies were left disordered and leaderless. It almost came to pass that the fire of revolt blazed up, and that the people of both kingdoms had been consumed by the flame of confusion. At last the chiefs of both armies assembled and made search, with mutual consent, from the royal families and the imperial stock, for a king of beneficent disposition and good qualities, in order that they might consign to him the duties of the empire and the conduct of state affairs. The general opinion agreed in this conclusion, that the fortunate chief the head of whose auspiciousness would be worthy of a diadem of exaltation, and the finger of whose happiness would befit the signet-ring of dominion, was that same devout Prince. The officers of state went to the door of his cell, and with all possible respect and reverence brought him from the corner of obscurity to the court of acceptance, and from the nook of retirement to the high-place of the throne of fortune; and by the blessings of reliance on the divine favour, he obtained the treasures of his father and was established in his kingdom. And I have introduced this example in order to prove that the attainment of fortune is not dependent on exertion and labour, and that it is better to place trust in reliance on God, than to pillow oneself on one’s own efforts.
When the son had concluded this story, the father said, ‘What thou hast uttered is pure truth and justice, but this world is a world of means and causes, and the divine command has been issued accordingly, that, on causes, the happening of events in general in this world should depend; and the profit of working for a livelihood is greater than the reliance on Providence, because the advantage of such reliance accrues to him that so relies, and no more; and the benefit of working circulates to others from the worker, and to convey benefit to others is a proof of goodness, for, ‘The best of men is he who benefits mankind,’ and when any one has the ability to benefit others, it is a shame if he chooses to be idle and receive benefits from them: but perhaps thou hast never heard the story of that man who after witnessing what befell the Hawk and the Raven, neglected causation, and hence the divine wrath fell upon him. The son asked ‘How was that?’
The father said, ‘They relate that a darvesh was passing through a waste, and was meditating on the tokens of [God’s] mercy, and on the instances of divine power, when suddenly he beheld a swift royal falcon, which, holding a piece of flesh in its claw, was hovering round a tree, and in the most extreme agitation circled near a nest. The man was astonished at this circumstance, and stood for a time gazing at it. He saw a Raven without feathers and unfledged lying in the nest, and the Hawk divided the flesh piece by piece, and in proportion to what the callow raven could swallow, placed the pieces in its mouth. The man exclaimed, ‘Glory to God! behold His kingly favor and infinite compassion, that in the corner of this nest a raven unfledged and that has neither power to fly, nor vigor to attack, is not left by Him without support.
Wherefore it must assuredly be from weakness of faith and dulness of belief, that I, ever occupied in quest of daily subsistence, remain afoot and unseated, and having plunged into the wilderness of greediness, by every sort of artifice procure my daily bread.
The best course is for me henceforth to place the head of freedom from care on the knee of retirement, and draw the line of abrogation on the page of employment and business.
He then washed his hands of worldly concerns and sate down in a corner, and fixed his heart sincerely on the gratuitous79 beneficence of the Causer of Causes.
For three days and nights he remained quiet in the corner of retirement, but no gratuitous supply reached him from any channel, and every moment he became more attenuated and weak. At last his infirmities79a came strongly79b upon him and the recluse became mighty feeble, and was unable to perform the usual duties of worship and devotion. Then God Most High sent to him the prophet of that age, and gave him a message, severely rebuking him, saying, ‘O creature of mine! I have placed the pivot of the world on causes and means, and, though my omnipotent power can perform a thing without a cause, nevertheless my wisdom has made this requisite, that things in general should be effected and brought about by causes, and hence the rule of an interchange of benefits is established. Wherefore if thou canst be the means of imparting advantage to another, it is better than to be obliged to be succoured by others.
And I have introduced this story in order that thou mayest know that it is not practicable for every one to put aside the veil of secondary causes, and that commendable reliance on God is that which, with a due regard to means, maintains a firm faith, so as to participate in that gracious promise, ‘The industrious man is the friend of God,’79c and a great authority has said, ‘Work lest thou become sick; and own that thy food is from God, lest thou be an infidel.’
The next son then began to say, ‘O Father! we have not power to rely implicitly on God, wherefore there is no alternative but to practice a profession; and when we engage in a profession, and God Most High, from the treasure of his bounties, provides us with wealth and property,79e what must we do with it?’ The father said, ‘To amass wealth is easy, but to keep it and derive advantage from it, is difficult, and when any one acquires wealth, he must know two necessary things: the one, to take care of it in such a manner that it may be safe from inroads and consumption, and that the hand of the thief and the robber and the cut-purse, may be kept back from it, since gold has many friends and the possessor of it many a foe.
The second thing is, that he should reap the benefit of the profits, but not squander the principal, for if men spend everything from their capital, and are not contented with the interest, in a short time the dust of annihilation will rise up from it.
Whoever is without income, and continually expends money, or whose expenses are greater than his income, will eventually fall into the vortex of want, and it is probable that his affairs will terminate in destruction, like that wasteful Rat which destroyed itself from grief.’ The son asked ‘How was that?’
The father said, ‘They have related that a farmer had placed in a barn a quantity of corn for a store, and had closed up the doors of expenditure there, in order that in the day when excessive want and extreme necessity should arrive,80 he might be able to derive advantage from it. By chance, a Rat—who from exceeding greediness, desired to steal grain from the granary of the moon,80a and to snatch, with the claw of rapacity, the cluster of the Pleiades from the corn-field of the sky—had its abode in the vicinity of that spot, and its nest in the neighbourhood of that barn. He was continually burrowing under-ground in every direction, and with his stone-rending teeth he everywhere made excavations. All at once, his mining operations terminated in the midst of the grain, and from the roof of his house, grains of wheat, like bright-falling stars from the sky, came pouring down. The rat saw that the promise, ’Your sustenance is in the heaven,80b was fulfilled; and that the dark saying, ‘Seek ye your food in the recesses of the earth,’ was cleared up. He then performed the duties of thanksgiving for the display of those blessings, and, by the acquisition of those precious jewels, having obtained great opulence, he began to assume the proud demeanour of Ḳárún81 and the arrogant pretensions of Pharaoh; and in a short space of time the rats in that quarter became acquainted with the circumstances, and girt the waist of service in attendance upon him.
Friends of the trencher and companions of the cup assembled near him, and—as their custom is—adopting a course of flattery, uttered not a word, save such as would suit his inclination and gratify his humor; nor loosed their tongue except in his eulogy and praise, and in thanking and blessing him. He too, like one demented, opened his mouth in boasting and vain-glorious talk, and his hand in ruinous expenditure; in the idea that the grain of that building would not come to an end, and that wheat would continuously be showered down and descend from that orifice. Every day he expended a large portion of it on his companions, and having no regard to the final issue, turned not from the thought of to-day, to the anxious care for the morrow.
And at the season that the rats were engrossed with pleasure in that retired corner, the cold hand of famine and dearth had cast down the people, and the fire of hunger was kindled in the breast of the afflicted poor. On every side they offered a loved object for bread, and no one listened to them, and in all directions they desired to sell their household goods for a dish of meat, and no one would buy.
The arrogant Rat having spread out the carpet of luxurious delight, had no intelligence of the famine, nor was acquainted with the scarcity of the season, When some days had passed, the occasion became one of life and death to the farmer, and the knife reached the bone. He opened the door of the building and saw that extensive damage had accrued to the grain. Then heaving a cold sigh from his heart inflamed [with grief], and, suffering much sorrow for that loss, he said to himself, ‘It is not the proceeding of a wise man to lament in a matter the remedy of which is beyond the limits of possibility. Now it appears best to collect the remaining grain that is left in this building, and to convey it to another place. Then the farmer busied himself with carrying out the small portion that remained; and in that place the Rat, who imagined himself the owner of the house and lord of the edifice, was asleep; and the other rats, from their excessive greediness and cupidity, did not hear the sound of the farmer’s feet, and the noise of the coming and going, above their heads. But one among them, an acute rat, having guessed how matters stood, ascended the roof to ascertain [what was going on] and, from a crevice, observed the real state of the case. He came down forthwith, and having told his friends the substance of the story, flung out of the hole, and they too went out, each to a corner, and left their patron alone.
The next day when the Rat lifted his head from the pillow of repose, however much he looked to the left and right, he saw none of his friends, and the more he scrutinised, both before and behind, the less he discovered any traces of his companions. He began to bewail himself, and said,
When, in order to ascertain what they were about, he—after a long interval, during which he had chosen to live retired—issued from the corner of his dwelling, and got intelligence of the calamitous dearth and the miserable distress and scarcity—in the utmost perturbation, he hastened home that he might exert himself to the utmost in taking care of the store he possessed. When he reached his house, he saw not a trace of the grain, and he then mounted through that hole into the granary, and there was not as much there for him to eat, as would suffice for one night’s food. Thereupon his endu-rance being folded up,82 he began to rend the collar of his life with the hand of affliction, and struck the head of insanity so often on the ground, that his brains were scattered, and by the ill-fortune of his wasteful living, he fell into the vortex of destruction and ruin. And the moral of this story is, that a man’s expenses ought to be in proportion to his income, and he should enjoy himself with the interest of the principal he possesses, and should be careful of it in such a manner that no detriment may accrue to his capital stock.
And when the father had concluded this tale, the younger son arose and adorned the preamble of his discourse with benedictions and praise of his father, and said, ‘O father! after one has taken care of his property according to rule, and has obtained full interest from it, how should he expend that interest?’ The father said, ‘The mean in everything is to be commended, espccially as regards the mode of living. Wherefore it behoves the possessor of wealth, after obtaining his profit, to pay regard to two other rules. First, let him shun incongruous expenses and outlays, lest these bring forth repentance, and he loose the tongue of sarcasm against him; and, in point of fact, the squandering one’s resources, and profuse expenditure are a temptation of the devil [as it is said,] ‘For the profuse are brethren of the devils.’83
Secondly: It is necessary that he should avoid the disgrace of stinginess, and the stigma of miserly conduct, since the miser has an ill name, both in spiritual and worldly things, and a worldly avaricious man is at all times the object of reproach and as wretched as his foes could wish;83a and the hoards of the miser become, in the end, the butt of the shaft of ruinous expenditure and waste. Thus, for example, when water is continually flowing into a large reservoir from sundry channels, and has not an outlet proportioned to the influx, it of necessity seeks a passage in every direction, and bursts out from every corner. So the walls of the reservoir are cracked, and in the end it is ruined and destroyed, and the waters are dispersed abroad on all sides and in all directions. ‘Warn the miser of a casualty or an heir,’83b
When the sons had heard the admonitions of their father, and had fully recognised the advantages of his words, each made choice of a profession, and engaged in business; and the oldest of them84 betook himself to commerce, and embarked on a distant journey; and he had with him two baggage oxen, such that the bull of heaven did not possess the power of contending with them in strength; and the celestial lion from their fierceness and the awe they inspired, hid, like a cat keeping a fast, the claw of terror in the paw of helplessness.
The name of one was Shanzabah,84a and of the other, Mandabah; and the worthy merchant always managed them and attended to their condition himself. As, however, the time of the journey waxed long and they traversed great distances, debility made inroads into their condition, and the mark of weakness was displayed on the aspect of their state. By chance, in the midst of the way a vast slough intervened, and Shanzabah stuck therein. The merchant commanded, so that by every device they brought him out, and as he had not power to move, [his owner] hired a man and appointed him to the charge of the ox; and it was fixed that as soon as he gained strength he should bring him to the caravan. The hireling abode one or two days in the jungle, and became dispirited by being alone, and abandoning Shanzabah, carried the news of his death to the merchant; and in that stage, Mandabah, from excess of fatigue and through parting from Shanzabah, died. But Shanzabah, in a short space of time, having regained his strength, wandered in every direction in search of a meadow for grazing, until he reached a mead adorned with a variety of fragrant herbs, and clothed with plants of different kinds. Paradise, from envy of that garden, bit the finger of jealousy; and heaven opened the eye of admiration in surveying it.
Shanzabah was pleased with that spot, and deposited the furniture of residence in the expanse of that meadow; and when he had for a time grazed in that pasture, without any bond of constraint or troublesome fetter,84c and had lived, according to the wish of his heart, in that exhilarating air and heart-expanding plain, he became excessively robust and stout. The delight of ease and enjoyment of repose, carried him so far, that from the abundance of his gaiety, he uttered loud bellowings. And in the neighbourhood of that meadow lived a Lion, who inspired great awe from his savage and ferocious nature. Many wild animals85 had girded themselves in his service, and countless beasts of prey had placed the head of obedience on the line85a of his commandment, and the Lion from the pride of youth and the arrogance of dominion and success and the multitude of his servants and the number of his retinue, fancied no one superior to himself; and despised the swift-charging tiger and the huge-bodied elephant; but he had never seen an ox nor heard the voice of one. When the bellowing of Shanzabah reached him, he was much dismayed, and from fear that the beasts should discover that alarm had found the way to him, he moved nowhere, and remained quiet in one spot. And in his train were two subtle jackals, one named Kalílah, and the other Damnah, and both of them were famed for sagacity and acuteness. Damnah, however, was the cleverer, and more eager in pursuit of rank and fame. He, by his quickness of perception, discovered that fear had overcome the lion, and that he was intent on something which was passing through his mind. He said to Kalílah, ‘What sayest thou as to the state of the king, in that he has abandoned the pleasureableness of exercise, and has fixed himself in one place?
Kalílah replied, ‘What business hast thou with this question? and what is thy concern with the uttering of this speech?
And we in the court of this King obtain our food and pass our time tranquilly under the shade of his fortunes. Be satisfied with this and refrain from inquisitiveness into the secrets of kings, and scanning too narrowly their affairs, for we are not of the degree to be honored with the confidence of monarchs, or that with princes there should be room for attention to our words; wherefore it is idle and superfluous to talk of them, and whoever superfluously meddles with what does not befit him, meets with what the Ape met with.’ Damnah inquired, ‘How was that?’
Kalílah said, ‘They have related that a Monkey saw a Carpenter sitting upon a piece of timber, which he was cutting, and he had two wedges, one of which he hammered into the cleft of the wood, so that the cutting was facilitated, and the passage for the going and returning of the saw was widened, and when the fissure passed a certain limit he knocked in the other wedge and drew out the former one, and in this manner he continued working. The Monkey amused himself with looking on: suddenly the Carpenter, in the middle of his work, on some urgent occasion, got up and went away, and when the Monkey saw the coast clear he immediately seated himself in the piece of wood, and in that portion where it was cut asunder, the lower parts of his body went down into the cleft. The Ape drew out of the cleft of the timber the wedge that was in front, before hammering in the other, and as soon as it was extracted the two divisions of the wood closed and the hinder parts of the monkey were firmly fixed in the midst of the log. The wretched Ape, agonized by the pain, screamed out and said,
My business is to pluck fruit, not to handle a saw, and my profession is to look about me in the jungle, not to chop with hatchet and adze.
The Ape was thus soliloquizing, when the carpenter returned and handled him as he deserved; and the affairs of the Monkey terminated through that officiousness in his destruction, and hence they have said,
And I have introduced this example that thou mayest know that every one should do his own business, and not step beyond his due limits, and ‘For every business there are men.’ And how finely have they said,
Give up this affair which is no business of thine, and regard the small provision and food which reaches us, as a piece of good fortune.’ Damnah said, ‘Every one who seeks to be about the persons of kings, ought not to do so for the sake of food and provision, since the stomach is filled in all places and with all things. But the advantage of attendance on princes is the obtaining of high office, in order that in that position one may, by favor, gratify his friends and deal rigorously with his enemies. And every one, whose spirit can stoop to the consideration of mere food, is to be reckoned with brutes, like a hungry dog who is pleased with a bone, and a mean-spirited cat that is content with a crumb of bread; and I have observed, that if a lion is chasing a hare, should he see a wild ass, he discontinues [chasing his first quarry] and turns to pursue the wild ass.
And whoever has attained a lofty station, though his life should be short as that of a flower, still, on account of his fair fame, the wise attribute to him long life; and he who bows the head to servility and meanness of soul, though he may abide for a long time like the leaf of the pine, yet, in the opinion of men of eminence, he finds no esteem, and they make no account of him.’
Kalílah said, ‘The pursuit of dignities and high offices beseems that class, who by the nobleness of their descent and the grace of their manners and high birth, possess a fitness and capacity for such things; and we are not of this order so as to be suited to lofty stations, or that we should advance the step of exertion in pursuit of them.
Damnah said, ‘The source of greatness is intellect and accomplishments, not race and descent. Every one who possesses a clear understanding and a perfect judgment, raises himself from a low origin to an exalted rank; and whoever has a weak mind and a mean intellect, brings himself down from a lofty position to a low rank.
And the ancients have said that elevation to exalted rank is attainable only by great trouble; and descent from an honorable station is brought about with little pains; as one can lift on one’s shoulder from the ground a heavy stone only with great exertion, and must by the slightest movement, drop it to the earth; and hence it is that no one is able to relish the pursuit of lofty things, save a man of high spirit who possesses the ability of undergoing labour.
Every one who seeks the indulgence, ‘Obscurity is ease,’ having washed his hands of honor, will, to all time, remain a recluse in the corner of abasement and unfulfilment of his wishes, and he who dreads not the thorny ground of ‘Notoriety is a misfortune,’ will in a short time pluck the rose of his wish, and sit in the flower-garden of honor on the cushion of pleasure.
But perhaps thou hast never heard the story of those two companions, one of whom by the endurance of toil and hardship, reached the pinnacle of regal dignity, and the other, through indolence and self-indulgence, remained in the abyss of want and distress.’ Kalílah said ‘How was that?’
Damnah said, ‘Two friends, one of whom was named Sálim, and the other Ghánim,88a were journeying on a road, and, in company with one another, traversed the halting-places and stages. It happened that they passed along the skirt of a mountain, whose peak kept rein-and-rein with the bay courser of the sky, and whose waist was girt so as to keep stirrup-to-stirrup with the surface of the celestial girdle;88b and at the foot of the mountain there was a fountain of water, in clearness like the cheek of fresh-faced, rosy-cheeked [beauties], and in sweetness like the speech of sugar-lipped, sweet-spoken [fair ones]. In front of this fountain a large reservoir had been made, and around it umbrageous trees interlaced their tops.
In short those two comrades arrived from the terrible wilderness at that termination of their day’s journey, and seeing it to be a pleasant spot, and an exhilarating resting-place, stopped there for their accustomed repose; and after resting themselves, passed along in every direction on all sides of the reservoir and fountain and looked about them on every side. All at once they saw—on the margin of the reservoir, on the side whence the water came—a white stone, and on it written, in emerald characters—such that, save with the pen of omnipotence and on the page of wisdom characters like them could not be traced—these words, ‘O traveler! who89 hast honored this spot by alighting here, know that we have provided entertainment for our guests after the best manner, and prepared the tables of advantage in the most excellent fashion; but the condition is that thou shouldst plunge over-head into this fountain, and without dread of the danger of the eddy, or of the terrors of the vortex, get to shore as best thou canst; and at the foot of the mountain we have placed a lion carved out of stone, which thou must raise on thy shoulder, and without hesitation or delay, must convey thyself in one run to the top of the mountain, nor desist from thy undertaking from fear of the ravenous beasts that may cross thy path, nor of the sharpness of the heart-transfixing thorns which may lay hold of thy skirt; for when the course is finished the tree of desire will bear fruit.’
After acquainting himself with the purport of this inscription, Ghánim turned to Sálim with these words, ‘O brother! come on, in order that we may traverse this arena of danger with the steps of toil, and may display every endeavour that is possible to learn the particulars89a of this talisman.’
Sálim said, ‘O friend beloved, from a mere legend, whose writer is unknown, and of the truth of which we are ignorant, to embark in a prodigious peril; and on the idea of an imaginary advantage and a supposed benefit, to precipitate oneself into a great danger is a proof of fatuity. No sensible man takes certain poison along with a questionable antidote, nor does any reasonable person willingly undergo ready-money labour for pleasure on credit.
Ghánim replied, ‘O kind friend! the love of ease is the forerunner of ignominy and disgrace, and the undertaking of danger the token of fortune and honor.
The will of the high-spirited man stoops not to a corner and an allowance of food, nor, till he obtains a lofty situation, does he desist from the pursuit. One cannot gather the rose of pleasure without the thorn of toil, nor open the door of one’s wish without the key of labour, and as for me, resolution will seize the reins and carry me to the top of the mountain, and I shall have no dread of the whiripool of calamity, nor of the endurance of the load of hardship.
Sálim rejoined, ‘Granted that for the perfume of the spring of good-fortune one may put up with the disorder of the autumn of adversity, nevertheless to advance in a path which has no end, and to float on in an ocean whose shore is not visible, is far removed from the path of discretion; and it behoves every one who commences an undertaking, to examine its issue as well as he knows its beginning; and, casting his glance from the commencement of the affair to the end, to weigh the loss and gain of it, in order that he may not undergo vain toil, and not give to the wind of annihilation the ready money of his precious life.
It may be that they have written this inscription for a joke, and inscribed these characters for mockery and sport, and this fountain may be a whirlpool, such that it is impossible to reach the bank by swimming; and, if escape from it be attained, it is probable that the weight of the stone lion may be so great that one cannot lift it on one’s shoulder, and were that, too, effected, it is possible that one could not reach the top of the mountain in a single run, and if all this be accomplished, it is quite unknown what the result may be, In fine, I go not along with thee in this business, and, moreover, dissuade thee from advancing farther in the matter.’ Ghánim said, ‘Cease these words, since I will not turn back from my intention for any man’s words, nor will break the resolution I have formed, for all the doubts that the ‘imps of men or genii’ can suggest; and I know that thou hast not the strength to accompany me, and will not agree to bear me company. Well, then, look on at the spectacle, and aid with thy prayers and good wishes.
Sálim perceived that he was a man of an unchangeable impulse in his undertakings, and said, ‘O brother! I see that thou wilt not be restrained by my advice, and that thou wilt not abandon this thing which ought not to be done; and I cannot bear to look on at this affair, nor can I find amusement in a thing which does not suit my feelings and is not approved by my heart. I see my best course to be this—
He then placed the baggage he had, on his beast, and bade his friend farewell, and set forward on his journey. Ghánim, having washed his heart of his life, came to the brink of the fountain, and said,
Then binding firmly round his waist the skirt of resolution, he stepped into the fountain.
Ghánim saw that that fountain was a dangerous whirlpool, but keeping a stout heart, by swimming boldly, reached the shore of delivery; and having come to the edge of the water and recovered himself, he by strength and might, lifted the stone lion on his back, and voluntarily submitting to a thousand kinds of labour, brought himself in one run to the top of the mountain, and on that side of the mountain he saw a great city with an agreeable climate and a heart-expanding country.
Ghánim having halted on the summit of the mountain, was looking towards the city, when suddenly, from that lion of stone, a terrible sound issued, such that the mountain and plain shook, and that noise having reached the city, many persons came out from the right and left, and turning their faces towards the mountain, advanced towards Ghánim. Ghánim looked on with a wondering gaze, and was astonished at the multitudes of people, when, all of a sudden, a company of grandees and nobles came and performed the ceremonies of salutation, and offered the praises due to him, and having seated him, with the greatest respect, on a fleet courser, conveyed him towards the city, and after washing his head and body with rose-water and camphor, arrayed him in royal robes, and, with all honor and reverence, delivered into his able hands the rein of the sovereignty of that country. Upon Ghánim’s inquiring into the nature of these circumstances, he was answered in the following manner, ‘In the fountain that thou sawest, wise men have framed a talisman and fashioned that stone lion with every kind of care and consideration with regard to the rising of the degrees and the aspects of the fixed stars and planets, and whensoever a respected person resolves to cross the fountain, and lift up the lion and ascend to the summit of the mountain, this circumstance will undoubtedly coincide with the decease of the monarch of this city. Thereupon the lion utters a sound, and the noise thereof having reached the city, the people come forth, and having raised this man to the sovereignty, pass their lives tranquilly under the shelter of his justice until the time when his turn, too, arrives.
And when, by command of God, the sun of the existence of the ruler of this country sets in the horizon of death, simultaneously therewith, the star of the grandeur of that fortunate person exhibits its ascension from the summit of this mountain: and long ages have passed since this rule has been established after this same custom that has been mentioned; and thou art to-day the king of this city and the ruler of this age.
Ghánim perceived that the endurance of all those toils was through the requirement of fortune.
And I have introduced this example in order that thou mayest know that the draught of delight and enjoyment is not without the sting of annoyance and trouble; and to whomsoever the desire of exaltation arises, he will not be trampled down by any base person, nor be content with a low rank or a mean station; and I, until I obtain the dignity of the Lion’s confidence, and am admitted into the number of those who stand nearest to his presence, will not lay my head on the pillow of repose, nor stretch out my feet on the couch of relaxation.’ Kalílah said, ‘Whence hast thou been able to grasp the key of this door? and how hast thou conceived the idea of entering into this affair?’ Damnah said, ‘At this crisis, when alarm and uncertainty has found way to the Lion, I mean to put myself in his way, and it is probable that, by imbibing the cordial of my advice, he may recover his cheerfulness, and by this means my propinquity and rank in his presence will be increased.’ Kalílah said, ‘How will thou obtain propinquity and access to the Lion? and even should it be so, thou hast not been used to the services of kings, and knowest not the customs and ceremonies [to be observed] in their attendance. In a short time, therefore, thou wilt lose what thou hast acquired, and thou wilt not again be able to apply any remedy for this.’ Damnah rejoined, ‘When a man is wise and able, the undertaking matters of importance has nothing injurious for him, and any one who has confidence in his own abilities, will acquit himself satisfactorily of every business upon which he enters. And another thing is this, if fortune manifests herself, she will shew the way to all that is required: as it has come down to us in history that the sum of the prosperity of a tradesman having been exalted, he obtained the royal dignity, and his renown and fame spread throughout the world. One of the ancient kings wrote him a letter to this effect, ‘Thy craft was carpentry, and thou knowest the business of a carpenter well—from whom hast thou learned government and judgment in the transaction of affairs?’ He wrote for answer, ‘He who bestowed fortune upon me, has not omitted a single particle of instruction in the management of the world.’
Kalílah said, ‘Kings do not distinguish all men of merit by their favours, but mark by their especial and royal notice their own near connections who have obtained propinquity in their service by inheritance or desert, and since thou hast neither hereditary claims upon the lion, nor self-acquired pretentions, it is probable that thou wilt remain excluded from his notice, and it may be the cause of something that will accord with the wishes of thy foes.’ Damnah said, ‘Every one who has obtained a lofty rank in the service of the king has done so by degrees, and that station has not shewed itself without their toil and exertion and the influence of the King’s favorable notice; and I too seek the same thing, and go about for the same end, and have reconciled to myself the endurance of many fatigues, and the tasting of many unpalatable draughts, and I know that whoever attends the court of princes must choose five things. First, he must quench the flame of anger with the water of mildness. Secondly, he must cautiously avoid the suggestions of the tempter, lust. Thirdly, he must not allow deceitful greediness, and mischief-exciting covetousness, to get the better of the guide, reason. Fourthly, he must base his actions on truth and moderation. Fifthly, the accidents and contingencies that may occur, these he must encounter with gentleness and courteous bearing: and whoever is endowed with these qualities, undoubtedly his wish will be accomplished most successfully.’ Kalílah replied, ‘Supposing that thou gainest access to the King; by what means art thou to obtain his approbation? and by what art will thou arrive at rank and promotion?’ Damnah said, ‘If close intercourse with his majesty be attained, I will adopt five qualities. First, I will perform his service in perfect sincerity. Secondly, I will shape my spirit in conformity to him. Thirdly, I will represent all his actions and words to advantage. Fourthly, when he commences an affair, which is allied to good policy, and in which I discover the weal of the realm, I will exhibit it to his eyes and feelings in the most attractive light, and bring under his observation its utilities and advantages, that his exultation at the goodness of his judgment, and the soundness of his plans, may be increased. Fifthly, if he should embark in a matter which might have a disastrous issue, and an unpleasant termination, so that injurious consequences may result to the kingdom, I will unfold to him, in eloquent language, and with great gentleness, the mischief of it, and make him aware of the evils that will issue from it, and as soon as the king perceives my merits, he will distinguish me by his approbation and favor, and will be ever inclined to my society, and eager for my advice, since no talent can be hid, and no man of talent will fail to participate in the marks of encouragement of support.
Kalílah said, ‘Since it appears that thy mind is bent on this, and that thy resolution with regard to the accomplishment of this matter is firmly fixed, be well on thy guard, for attendance on kings is a thing full of danger, and an affair replete with difficulties: and the wise have said that there are three things on which none would venture save a blockhead who has never inhaled the fragrance of reason. First, the service of a king; secondly, the tasting [what may be] poison with doubt94 [as to the result]; thirdly, the divulging one’s secrets to women. And sages have compared kings to a lofty mountain; since, although mines of precious jewels are there, still there also is the abode of tigers and snakes and other noxious animals, and both the ascent is difficult, and the abiding there arduous; and they have also said that the society of a monarch resembles the sea, and the trader who chooses to travel by sea, either acquires much gain, or is overtaken in the whirlpool of destruction.’
Damnah said, ‘All that thou hast said has been well-intentioned, and I know that a king is like a consuming fire; the danger of a person increases in proportion to his proximity to it.
However, whoso dreads danger will not arrive at a high station.
And there are three things which no one without high spirit can undertake—the public service of a king; a voyage by sea; and the encountering foes; and I do not find myself to be mean-spirited, why then should I dread the king’s service?’
Kalílah said, ‘Although I am opposed to this project, and deprecate this intention, nevertheless, since thy judgment is so decided in this matter, and thy mind so set on this scheme—may it be fortunate!
Damnah departed and made his salutation to the Lion. The Lion inquired, ‘What person is this?’ They replied, ‘The son of such an one, who for a long time was an attendant at the royal court.’ The Lion exclaimed, ‘Aye! I recollect him.’ He then called him before him and said, ‘Where dost thou live?’ Damnah answered, ‘After the custom of my father, I have now become an attendant in the heaven-resembling court, and have made it the shrine of my wants, and the K’abah95b of my wishes, and am in waiting that if an affair of importance should occur, and the august order should be issued, I may satisfactorily accomplish it by my sagacity, and may engage in it with clear discernment. And as in the management of various matters of weight, there is occasion for the Pillars of the state, and the ministers of his Majesty, so it is probable that at the courts of princes an event may occur, which may be brought to a close by the aid of those of inferior degree.
In a matter which may be effected by the weak needle, the proud96 javelin may prove inefficacious, and an affair which a poor penknife may accomplish, in that, the highly-tempered scymitar may prove at a loss. And no servant, though he may be of little estimation and mean position, is devoid of use for removing detriment and eliciting good, since even the dry stick which lies despised in the road, may possibly, some day, become serviceable; and though it be good for nothing else, yet it may chance that they may make a tooth-pick of it, or by means of it, may cleanse the ear of wax.’
When the Lion heard the speech of Damnah, he was astonished at his eloquence and fluency of speech, and turning to his courtiers, said, ‘Though a wise man should be of small reputation, yet his understanding and wisdom will, involuntarily, make his talents known to the nation, like the flame of fire, which, though he that kindles it may wish should burn downwards, will, to a certainty, raise its head aloft.
Damnah was pleased at these words, and perceived that his fascinations had made an impression on the Lion, and that his artifice was completely successful. He loosed the tongue of advice, and said, ‘It is incumbent on all the royal attendants and household, according to their understanding and knowledge, to ponder well every matter which may befall the king, and to represent whatever may occur to the mind of each, nor ever abandon the path of good advice, in order that the sovereign may thoroughly know his followers and dependants, and having become acquainted with the extent of the judgment and prudence and sincerity and discretion of each, may both derive advantage from their respective services, and may also reward each in proportion to his deserts; for so long as the grain lies hidden by the curtain of the earth, no one takes trouble in cultivating it, and when it draws back the veil of mould from its face, and raises its head in its gay robe of green, from the collar of the ground, and is perceived to be a fruit-bearing tree and a useful plant; then assuredly [men] will foster it and profit by its fruits: and in all matters, the source [of advancement] is the encouragement of kings. Whomsoever, among men of merit, they distinguish by their favorable notice, from him they will derive benefit in proportion to the encouragement they bestow.
The Lion asked, ‘How must men of understanding be encouraged? and by what means can one reap fruit from them?’ Damnah replied, ‘The main point in this matter is that the king should look to worth, not birth; and if a party of incapables should allege the services of their ancestors and progenitors, that he should pay no regard to them, for a man should make good his pedigree by his abilities, not by his father.
Though a rat be a partner in the same abode with men, yet by reason of the annoyance and injury which results from it, they think it right to exert themselves for its destruction; while the hawk, which is wild and strange—since advantage may be anticipated from it—they allure with every sort of kindness, and bring him up on the wrist of favor, indulgently and proudly.97 Wherefore it behoves a king not to distinguish between friends and strangers, but to seek out men of ability and learning, and not to suffer precedence to be given to men who are remiss in business and wanting in talent, over persons of eminence and merit; since to bestow the office of wise men on fools, is like fastening ornaments for the head on the feet, and placing that which ought to deck the feet on the head; and wherever men of talent are depressed and ignorant, and fatuous persons get possession of the reins of power, the utmost confusion will find its way into the affairs of that country, and the disgrace of that circumstance will attach to the fortune of the king and his subjects.
When Damnah had finished speaking, the Lion showed him the utmost favor, and admitted him into the number of his particular favorites, and having taken a liking to his conversation, based his most important actions upon his counsel and advice. Damnah, too, taking the path of good sense, and intelligence and understanding and sagacity, became, in a short time, the confidante of the royal cabinet, and the man relied upon and referred to for advice and suggestions of improvement in the affairs of state. One day, having found a fortunate occasion and a convenient time, he asked for a private audience, and said, ‘A long time has now passed during which the king has remained stationary in one place, and has relinquished the gratification of exercise and the pleasures of the chace. I wish to know the cause of this and to speak on this matter to the best of my ability.’ The Lion wished to conceal from him the alarm he felt, when, meantime, Shanzabah bellowed aloud, and his voice agitated the Lion so much, that the reins of self-possession passed from his grasp. He was compelled to disclose his secret to Damnah, and said, ‘The cause of my fear is this sound that thou hearest, and I know not whose voice it is, but I suspect that his strength and build is in proportion to his voice. If his form be such,98 it is no good for me to remain in this place.’ Damnah replied, ‘Has the king any other thing upon his mind besides this voice?’—‘No!’ said the Lion. ‘Then,’ rejoined Damnah, ‘it is not right, for such a trifle, to expatriate yourself and to depart from your own familiar residence. What dependence is there [to be placed] in a voice? and what weight [ought to be attached] to a cry that any one should remove for that? and it beseems a king to be firmly planted like a rock, so as not to be shaken by every wind nor to be dislodged by every outcry.
And the ancients have said that regard should not be paid to every loud noise and powerful body; for not every external form furnishes sure information of the internal meaning, nor is every outward semblance a token of what lies within. A reed, though it be thick, is broken with a slender stick, and a heron, though of large stature, is overcome by the talons of a hawk of comparatively slim build; and whoever makes account of largeness of bulk, meets with what that Fox met with. The Lion asked; ‘How was that?’
Damnah said, ‘They have related that a Fox was prowling over a moor, and was roaming in every direction in hopes of scenting food. Presently he came to the foot of a tree, at the side of which they had suspended a drum, and whenever a gust of wind came, a branch of the tree was put in motion, and struck the surface of the drum, and a terrible noise arose from it. The Fox, seeing a domestic fowl under the tree who was pecking the ground with her beak, and searching for food, planted himself in ambush, and wished to make her his prey, when all of a sudden the sound of the drum reached his ear. He looked and saw a very fat form, and a prodigious sound from it reached his hearing. The appetite of the Fox was excited, and he thought to himself ‘Assuredly its flesh and skin will be proportioned to its voice.’ He issued from his-lurking place, and turned towards the tree. The fowl, being put on its guard by that circumstance, fled, and the fox, by a hundred exertions ascended the tree. Much did he labour till he had torn the drum, and then he found nought save a skin and a piece of wood. The fire of regret descended into his heart, and the water of contrition began to run from his eyes, and he said, ‘Alas! that by reason of this huge bulk which is all wind, that lawful prey has escaped from my hand, and from this empty form no advantage has resulted to me.’
And I have adduced this example in order that the King may not relinquish the pleasures of the chase, and his personal exercise, for a frightful noise and a huge form. If he will carefully observe, nothing will result from that voice and figure, and if the King will issue his command, I will approach him, and will acquaint the King with the state of the case, and the real truth of the matter. The Lion was pleased with the words of Damnah, and the latter, in accordance with the orders of the Lion, set off in the direction of that sound. As soon however as he got out of sight of the Lion, the latter began to reflect, and regretted that he had despatched Damnah, and said to himself, ‘I have committed a great fault, and an ill-weighed action has proceeded from me: and the ancients, have said, that it behoves a King in the disclosure of his secrets, to have no reliance on ten classes of persons, and not to reveal to them the secret nature of any of his private affairs which he is extremely anxious to conceal. The first is, whoever has experienced oppression and vexation at his court, and for a long time endured trouble and distress without fault or crime on his part. The second is, he whose property and honor have gone to the winds in attendance on the King, and whose means have been straitened. The third is, he who has been degraded from his office, and has no hope of recovering it again. The fourth is a wicked, mischievous person, who is on the look out for mischief, and is disinclined to peace and repose. The fifth is the criminal, whose comrades have tasted the sweets of pardon, while he has experienced the bitterness of punishment. The sixth is the offender, whose fellows have been reproved, while a greater and extreme degree of severity has been shewn towards him. The seventh, is he who, while doing acceptable services, remains disappointed; while others, without the antecedents of service, receive greater encouragement than he. The eighth, is he whose station an enemy has sought, and has got the lead of him, and has reached that rank, and the prince has taken part with him. The ninth, he who conceives his own advantage to be associated with the injury of the king. The tenth is he who has met with no favor at the King’s court, and who can make himself acceptable to the king’s enemy. Kings ought not to entrust their secrets to these ten classes, and the first principle is this, that until they have repeatedly made trial of the religious principles, and good faith, and kindness, and worth of a man, they should not put him in possession of their secrets.
Therefore in accordance with these promises, before making trial of Damnah, it was improper to be precipitate, and to send him to an enemy was far from a prudent and far-sighted line of conduct, and this Damnah appears to be a shrewd person, and he remained for a long time at my court distressed and disappointed. If, which God forbid!100 the thorn of vexation is rankling in his heart, he may, on this occasion, contrive perfidy, and stir up mischief; or it may be that he may find the enemy superior to me in strength and majesty; and, becoming eager to enter his service may acquaint him with what he knows of my secrets; and undoubtedly the remedy of that would exceed the measure of my counsels. Why did I not apply the purport of the saying, ‘Caution is suspicion,’ to my conduct? and why have the directions of the wise couplet
been transgressed by me? If calamity arise from this embassy, I am deserving of a hundred times as much.’ In this anxious meditation, the Lion, through excessive agitation, continued getting up and anon reseating himself, and kept the eyes of expectation fixed on the road, when all at once, Damnah appeared. The Lion was somewhat tranquillized, and remained quiet in the same spot, while Damnah, after performing the customary obeisance, said,
O world-possessing prince! he whose voice reached the august ear is an Ox, engaged in grazing in the environs of this forest, and, save feeding and sleeping, other business he has none, and his ambition does not travel beyond his throat and his belly.’ The Lion asked, ‘What is the extent of his might?’ Damnah replied, ‘I observed no pomp or grandeur about him, that I could thence infer his power; and I did not discover, in my own mind, any awe in him, whence I should suppose any extraordinary respect due to him.’ The Lion said, ‘Weakness is not therefore to be imputed to him, nor is one to be thereby deceived, for the strong wind, though it does not overthrow the weak herbage, nevertheless, tears up the strong trees by the root; and so long as the great and mighty do not encounter a foeman worthy of them, no display of their might and prowess is manifested.
Damnah said, ‘The king ought not to think so gravely of him, nor make so much account of the proceedings, for I have acuteness enough to discern the extent of his power,101 and I have informed myself of the exact state of his circumstances; and if the lofty judgment [of your majesty] require it, and the august command honors me by being issued, I will bring him, so that, having placed the hand of willingness on the line of obedience, he may cast the saddle-cloth of servitude on the shoulder of attachment.’ The Lion was pleased with these words, and signed to bring him. Damnah went to Shanzabah, and, with a stout heart, without hesitation or backwardness, entered into discourse with him.
And how didst thou come here? and what may be the cause of thy coming to this place? and of thy commencing to abide here?’ Shanzabah began to recount with truth the state of the matter, and Damnah, having learned his story, said, ‘A Lion who is the king of the wild beasts and the ruler of these regions, gave me orders and sent me to bring thee to him, and instructed me that, shouldest thou use despatch, he will forgive the crime which has taken place in his service up to this point, but if thou shouldest delay, I am to return with haste and report the circumstances.’ Shanzabah when he heard the name of the Lion and wild beasts, feared, and said, ‘If thou wilt make me stout-hearted and secure me from his chastisement, I will come with thee, and by means of thy companionship obtain the honor of his service.’ Damnah swore an oath to him, and gave him a promise and compact so as to tranquillize his mind, and both set off together to the Lion. Damnah went before and acquainted the Lion with his coming; and a short time after, the Ox arrived and performed the homage due. The Lion made warm inquiries [after his welfare], and said, ‘When didst thou arrive in this neighbourhood? and what may be the cause of thy coming?’ The Ox made a full recital of his story. The Lion then said, ‘Abide here still that thou mayest reap a full portion of kindness and honor and compassion and bounty from us; for we have opened the gates of favor on the faces of the votaries102 of our districts, and have spread the overflowing table of encouragement for the attendants of our court.
The Ox, having paid the dues of blessing and praise, bound the girdle of obedience on his loins with willingness and zeal: and the Lion, too, having brought him nearer to his person, and shewed excessive and lavish honors and respect to him,102a and, under cover thereof, employed himself in examining his character and investigating his conduct, and learned the measure of his judgment and understanding and the extent of his discernment and experience. He found him to be a person distinguished by perfect sagacity and endowed with intellect and penetration: the more he tested his qualities, the more his reliance on the abundance of his wisdom increased.
The Lion, after reflection and deliberation and anxious thought and prayer for guidance, made the Ox the confidante of his secrets; and every hour his place in the royal favor and his good fortune rose higher; and his elevation in the exercise of authority and in command became more exalted, until he outstripped all the pillars of the state and the ministers of the king. When Damnah perceived that the Lion carried his respect for the Ox to the last verge of excess, and that, having pushed his profuseness in rewarding and honoring him beyond the limits of moderation, he neither carried into effect his (Damnah’s) advice, nor applied to him for counsel in any matter—the hand of envy drew the collyrium of aversion over the eyes of his heart, aud the fire of anger cast the torch of jealousy into the cell of his brain.
Sleep and rest departed from him, and peace and repose removed their gear from the area of his breast. He went with his complaint to Kalílah, and said, ‘O brother! behold the weakness of my judgment and the slackness of my prudence, that I have expended all my energies in freeing the Lion from anxiety,103 and have introduced the Ox into his service, so that having obtained close access [to the king] and high place with him, he has got precedence over all the courtiers, while I have fallen from my station and position.’ Kalílah replied,
This axe thou hast thyself struck on thine own foot, and this dust of mischief thou hast thyself stirred up in thine own path, and the same thing has befallen thee which befell the Devotee. Damnah inquired, ‘How was that?’
Bázindah, ‘playful,’ said in the dictionary to be ‘a kind of pigeon!’ Nawázindah, in the dictionary, nawázandah, ‘caressing.’
↩Ḳur’án, ch. vi, 11; Fl., and Mar.; Sale, p. 82, 1, 29: ‘Say, go through the earth, and behold what hath been the end of those who accused our prophets of imposture. Say, unto whom belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and in earth? Say, unto God. He hath prescribed unto himself mercy.’
↩I do not think the az sar makes good sense. It is probably only inserted to make a jingle with sair, which precedes.
↩Lit., ‘It arises that what amount of relief does his grief receive from that amusement.’
↩Troubles, or lit. ‘revolutions, vicissitudes.’
↩In Persian, pukhtah means ‘cooked,’ and also ‘shrewd;’ in vulgar language ‘wide-awake.’ The pun cannot be preserved in English.
↩Some MSS. read báshand, which would refer to the ‘new friends,’ who could be said to be ‘not good.’
↩The Dictionary renders nasím-i shimál ‘Boreas,’ but here it evidently means ‘a cool breeze,’ a zephyr probably as coming from the cold northern hills.
↩Freely rendered, metri causâ. Lit., ‘Hundreds of thousands of roses blossomed in it.’
↩Atish-nishán ‘fiery,’ seems a strange epithet for the wind, unless it should be taken as referring to the Samúm. I confess I cannot see its applicability. The wind might indeed be compared to fire in its rapidity, and the epithet may here be introduced to correspond to átish.
↩Lit., ‘Which—like the philosopher’s stone—seemed to admit of being pointed out only in the sphere of non-existence.’
↩The planet Mars.
↩Lit., ‘He, by a hundred tricks, escaped from between them.’
↩The fabulous ’Anḳa, as not existing, is said to be hid from sight.
↩Mazlimat dár, the word in the printed and lithographed editions, is not in the Dictionary. One MS. reads mazlimah dárí, and explains it by khwárí. I must confess I would rather read mazlimah kár, did the manuscripts allow it.
↩Rúí-dast in the Dictionary is said to mean ‘back of the hand,’ a sense here clearly impossible.
↩Paiwast. I suppose the weapon in which the shell was placed to have been a cross-bow. Paiwastan would then mean, ‘to draw the string up, and place it in the notch ready for discharging the bow.’
↩One MS. reads khirad, which is perhaps better than falak.
↩Lit., ‘Would not go round the measurement.’
↩Zabán-i ḥál is said in the Dictionary to be ‘language expressed by one’s condition, in contra-distinction to language of the tongue.’ I hardly know whether the words can bear this meaning. It is evident that Bázindah actually uttered words, and did not merely gesticulate his grief.
↩Sar-i kúí signifies ‘end of the street.’
↩I have thought it better thus to translate cháshtgáh, as breakfast-time may vary through the twelve hours.
↩Lit., ‘Helpful and cherishing.’
↩Lit., ‘My dwellings are brimful of thy tears.’
↩There is a very good equivoque in the Persian between Kai-khusrau ‘Chosroes,’ and kai khúshrú ‘when fair?’ In order to preserve it I have changed Chosroes into Pharaoh, who serves equally well for the illustration.
↩There is a very good equivoque in the Persian between Kai-khusrau ‘Chosroes,’ and kai khúshrú ‘when fair?’ In order to preserve it I have changed Chosroes into Pharaoh, who serves equally well for the illustration.
↩Lit., ‘In the fullness of excellence he becomes the light of every eye.’
↩Lit., ‘There is not a thing purer than water, if it abides in one place, it becomes fetid.’
↩One MS. reads shafḳatí for shaghfí, and I am inclined to prefer it. The Dictionary gives no suitable meaning for the latter.
↩The lithographed edition and MSS. read hamán khiyál for the hamah khiyál of the printed edition.
↩Lit., ‘Smoke arose from his heart.’
↩Lit., ‘The form of travel and hell,’ there being an equivoque on safar ‘travel,’ and saḳar ‘hell.’ To keep the play on words I have translated the second word, ‘travail.’
↩One MS. reads hamah buzurgán for hamah buzurgí.
↩Lit.: ‘It is not the act of wise men to abandon good days.’
↩There is a mistake in the printed edition here, bas for pas.
↩Kha á, Northern China, the Cathay of Milton. This word has been omitted in the new edition of Johnson’s Persian Dictionary.
↩The MSS. and lithographed edition read bar dawám for the bar dáram of the printed edition, which I conclude to be a typographical error.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. xxxvi., 78; Sale, p. 333, last line, ‘He saith, who shall restore bones to life when they are rotten? Answer,—He shall restore them to life who produced them the first time; for He is skilled in every kind of creation; who giveth you fire out of the green tree, and behold ye kindle your fuel from thence.’ See also Sale, p. 198, note e: ‘Obba Ebn Khalf came to Muḥammad with a rotten bone, and asked him whether it were possible for God to restore it to life.’
↩I have put the verb in the past tense, metri causâ. Literally, it is: ‘If the scent should pass.’
↩Lit.: ‘Take not thy hand from the waist of the prosperous, (or) of those approaching.’ I should prefer the latter sense of muḳbil, since the old woman’s cat could hardly be said to be prosperous, but perhaps that epithet refers to her neighbour.
↩In the printed edition, the words ba-rasad and naṣṣ are run together so closely as to make them look like one word, which might occasion difficulty to the student.
↩One MS. reads dar goshah, which I much prefer to the unmeaning (unmeaning even for a Persian epithet) goshah ṭayyár or goshah ṭiyár.
↩One MS. reads shádmání which I prefer to sámaní. Other MSS. omit the ḥál before pidar.
↩There is an equivoque which I have been unable to retain in English. Khaṭṭ signifies ‘writing’ and naizah-i khaṭṭí ‘a straight spear.’
↩Nírang signifies ‘spell,’ as well as ‘sketch.’ Eligat lector.
↩In ‘Be’ the boy found the shape of a bow, in ‘Alif’ that of an arrow. There is more difficulty in tracing the resemblance between ‘Há’ and a shield, and between ‘Mím’ and a casque.
↩This is a tradition handed down by Anas-bin Málik, who was the last of the Sahabah, or companons of Muḥammad, and who died at Baṣrah, A.H. 91, aged 103. See the Mishkátu-’l-Maṣábíḥ translated by Matthews, Calc. edition, 1810, p. 79. ‘When a servant marries, verily he perfects half his religion; then let him practise abstinence before God, for the remaining half.’
↩Ḳu’rán, Fl., ch. lvi, 21; Mar., lvi, 23, Sale, p. 395, l. 2: ‘These are they who shall approach near unto God… Youths which shall continue in their bloom for ever, shall go round about to attend them, with goblets and beakers, and a cup of flowing wine: their heads shall not ache by drinking the same, neither shall their reason be disturbed; and with fruits of the sorts which they shall choose, and the flesh of birds of the kind which they shall desire.’
↩I am not aware that hawks are flown at a signal given by a drum, as would appear from this passage, Ṭabl-báz, or, Ṭablak-báz is said to be a little drum hung from the saddle; or the player of such a drum.
↩The Dictionary does not distinguish the hawks scientifically. The jurrah is said to be a male falcon.
↩Lit.: ‘Whets its claws?’
↩Ḳur’án, ch. lxvii, 15; Sale, p. 416, l. 28. ‘It is He who hath leveled the earth for you, therefore walk through the region thereof, and eat of his provision; unto Him shall be the resurrection.’
↩The lithographed edition reads ṣifát for malakát.
↩Baṣrah, a city on the Tigris, about one and a half day’s journey from where the river enters the Persian Gulf. It was built by command of the Khalífah ’Umar, A.H, 15, A.D., 636. It is situated in a sandy soil, but has a small stream flowing near it, which is said to make of the valleys it waters a terrestial Paradise.
↩The tree of Paradise, See Sale’s Prel. Disc., p. 69, l. 11: ‘Concerning this tree, they fable that it stands in the palace of Muḥammad, though a branch of it will reach to the house of every true believer; that it will be laden with pomegranates, grapes, dates, and other fruits of surprising bigness, and of tastes unknown to mortals. So that if a man desire to eat of any particular kind of fruit, it will immediately be presented him; or if he choose flesh, birds ready-dressed, will be set before him according to his wish. They add that the boughs of this tree will spontaneously bend down to the hand of the person who would gather of its fruits; and that it will supply the blessed not only with food, but also with silken garments, and beasts to ride on ready saddled and bridled, and adorned with rich trappings, which will burst forth from its fruits; and that this tree is so large, that any person mounted on the fleetest horse, would not be able to gallop from one end of its shade to the other in a hundred years.’ See page 20, line 2.
↩Lit.: ‘With a person that thou canst not move from his place, thou shouldst not plant thy foot in strife.’ I have transposed the lines for the English order.
↩In the margin of one MS. aṯír is explained by kháliṣ, ‘pure,’ ‘unadulterated.’
↩Az miyán here seems to be used for dar miyán.
↩Lit.: ‘Ungird thyself.’
↩The printed edition by a typographical error omits tá before khátimah.
↩This sentence and the following one appear to me rather obscure: I suppose sar az giríbán-í mushaḳḳat bar áwardan means ‘To put on toil like a garment, drawing the head through the collar.’ The employment of sar-afrází by itself, for ‘an exalted person’ is very unusual.
↩Zaháb wa iyáb, two not very common words, explained in the margin of one MS. by kúshish and báz gashtan.
↩Ḳur’án, Fl. ch. iii. 187; Mar. iii. 183; Sale, p. 53, l. 14: “Ye shall be proved in your possessions and in your persons; and ye shall hear from those unto whom the Scripture was delivered before you, and from the idolaters, much hurt; but if ye be patient and fear God, this is a matter that is absolutely determined.’
↩Alexander the Great is said to have had a glass which shewed him the whole world and all things done in it.
↩Shahr may also mean mean ‘month’ as well as ‘city,’ and an equivoque is of course intended here, alludlng to the sun’s progress.
↩Shahr may also mean mean ‘month’ as well as ‘city,’ and an equivoque is of course intended here, alludlng to the sun’s progress.
↩Tígh, ‘peak,’ signifies also and more usually ‘sword,’ and khanjar which here means ‘ray,’ commonly signifies ‘dagger.’
↩Khing-i falak, ‘the sun.’ It is barely possible to exceed the extravagance of this metaphor, in which the mountain is said to race in height with the sun, and to win by a neck.
↩Light exists in the black pupil of the eye, hence the saying ‘Light in darkness.’
↩The dictionary explains Bídpáí as a corruption of Vidyá-priyá or Veda-priya, ‘dear to science,’ or ‘a lover of the Veda.’ But here the derivation seems to be from vaidyah priyah, ‘dear physician.’
↩Kur’án, ch, x. 26; Sale, p. 156, l. 34: ‘God inviteth unto the dwelling of peace, and directeth whom he pleaseth into the right way.’ The ‘dwelling of peace’ is, Sale tells us in his note, ‘Paradise’ as is shewn by ch. ii. 221 of the Ḳur’án, where the same expression is used with jannat, ‘Paradise’ for dáru-s salám ‘dwelling of peace.’
↩Votaries who rise early to perform their devotions. The expression is also used of thieves who rise up with the dawn to rob honest sleepers.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. xv. 46; Sale, p. 176, l. 6: ‘But those who fear God shall dwell in gardens amidst fountains. The angels shall say unto them, ‘Enter ye therein in peace and security.’
↩Hihmat-áyín cannot here mean ‘Mirror of wisdom,’ the only signification given in the Dictionary.
↩He adorned the cave by his presence, and made it like that of Mání, who is said to have filled a cave in Chinese Tartary with strange and beautiful paintings. Mání was the founder of the sect of the Manicheans, and was burnt by order of Bahrám.
↩Shuḳḳah-i’alam ‘strip’—or ‘long shred’—‘of a banner.’
↩ There is an equivoque intended in the use of the word
Bisyár may very well be taken with chashídah. I have made it depend on ayyám, because that construction is not so common, and because, taken by itself, chashídah corres-ponds better to paimúdah and ṭayy kardah, which are used simply, without an adverb.
↩Keene makes kús-i dard the nominative to zanad, which it may very well be. Old age is compared to a watch which is relieving guard and beats a drum, or, as Keene takes it, the drum of pain beats the signal for old age to relieve guard.
↩I have not found this in the Ḥadíṯ, but there is something like it in the Mishkáṭu-’l-Maṣábíḥ, vol. 2, p. 2, l. 3.
↩This couplet is from the Maṯnavi, or poem of Jalálu’ddín Muḥammadu-’l-Balkhi, or ’l-Konoví, more commonly called Maulaví Rúmí, who composed about A. H. 600. He founded a celebrated sect of darveshes at Cogni in Natolia, and his work is regarded by them as of equal authority with the Ḳur’án.
↩Aleppo.
↩The chaghánah, says the Dictionary, is a little staff with bells, which, when moved, rings out an accompaniment to other instruments.
↩Ḳu’rán, Fl., ch. iii. 182; Mar. 186; Sale p. 53, l. 8: ‘Every soul shall taste of death, and ye shall have your reward on the day of resurrection; and he who shall be far removed from hell-fire, and shall be admitted into Paradise, shall be happy; but the present life is only a deceitful provision.’ Death is, in the text, compared to a banquet, as, in the Parables of the New Testament, the future world is compared to a feast; Matthew xxii. 10.
↩Ḳur’án, lv. 26; Sale, p. 392, l. 23: ‘Every creature which liveth on the earth is subject to decay; but the glorious and honourable countenance of thy Lord shall remain for ever.’ The lines are, lit.: ‘Every one that is born, to him it is necessary without remedy to drink, from the cup of fate, the wine, ‘Every soul shall taste of death.’
↩Lit.: ‘The darvesh who has the corner of contentment secured to him.’ Keene reads ganj for kunj.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. lxix, 22; Sale p. 420, l. 22: ‘On that day ye shall be presented before the judgment-seat of God; and none of your secret actions shall be hidden. And he who shall have his book delivered into his right hand shall say, ‘Take ye, read this my book; verily I thought that I should be brought to this my account: he shall lead a pleasing life in a lofty garden, the fruits whereof shall be near to gather.’
↩I do not know a word that exactly translates mujáwir. It signifies ‘the religious attendant of a shrine.’ Keene translates az sar-i irádat, ‘in the warmth of his attachment.’
↩A hermitage can hardly be inhabited by more than one person; we might therefore translate ṣaum’aah ‘monastery,’ but Keene renders it ‘hermitage’ and justly, for ahl no doubt refers to a number of hermits who had successively occupied the cell.
↩As there was no water we must take áb wa ráh-rá for the figure hendiadys.
↩So I have ventured to render tamassuk namúdah, but it perhaps implies ‘scraping forces together.’
↩Keene translates bí-’illat ‘faultless,’ but I am convinced that a play upon words is intended, and that the meaning is ‘the causeless (gratuitous) beneficence of the Causer of causes.’
↩There is here an oxymoron in ẓ’uf rúi ba-ḳuwat and in ḳawiy ẓ’aíf, which is lost in Keene’s translation.
↩There is here an oxymoron in ẓ’uf rúi ba-ḳuwat and in ḳawiy ẓ’aíf, which is lost in Keene’s translation.
↩From this Arabic proverb probably is derived the old monkish one ‘Laborare est orare,’ and our clever rendering thereof ‘Work is worship.’
↩From this Arabic proverb probably is derived the old monkish one ‘Laborare est orare,’ and our clever rendering thereof ‘Work is worship.’
↩For manál the only meanings given in the Dictionary are ‘Mode, manner, way, disposition.’ The word is probably chosen here to chime with mál, but it must mean ‘wealth, opulence.’
↩Lit. ‘When want should reach excess, and need, extremity.’
↩Khirman-i máh ‘the halo round the moon,’ but khirman by itself means ‘harvest, granary.’ An equivoque is therefore intended here, and continued in khúshah, which means ‘ear of corn,’ ‘cluster of fruit,’ as well as ‘cluster of stars.’ It is impossible to preserve the pun in English.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. li. 22; Sale p. 384, l. 15: ‘There are signs of the divine power and goodness in the earth to men of sound understanding, and also in your ownselves: wíll ye not also consider? ‘Your true sustenance is in the heaven,’ and also that which ye are promised.’
↩Korah, who, as the Muḥammadans say, was the cousin of Moses, and quarreled with him on being advised to consecrate a portion of his immense riches to God. Keene renders the word Ḳárún ‘Crœsus’!
↩There is here a very sorry but not uncommon attempt at a witticism. A round loaf of bread is compared to the round orb of the sun.
↩Ṭáḳ is here used for the jingle with ṭaḳat; ták shudan, according to the Dictionary, signifies ‘to be folded.’ So his patience resembled clothes folded up, and ready to be put away.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. xvii. 29; Sale, p. 212, l. 16: ‘And waste not thy substance profusely, for the profuse are brethren of the devils; and the devil was ungrateful to his Lord.’
↩Keene reads dushman-i kám, and translates ‘the enemy of joy.’
↩ I have taken the reading of the lithographed edition, which is bashshiri ’l-bakhíla bi
ḥádiṯin au wáriṯiṉ. The printed edition reads nashir mál, which I take to be a typographical
error, but if not, it must be nushara málu, ‘The wealth of the miser is scattered,’
etc. One MS. reads bashshiri málu, and another,
Here the story for the first time coincides with the Hitopadesha. The tale of Shanzabah corresponds with the story of Sanjívaka, Hitopadesha, book 2. (‘The separation of Friends.’)
↩All the MSS. I have seen, and the lithographed edition, read ‘Shatrabah,’ but the Dictionary explains ‘Shatrabah’ as being a corrupted form of Shanzabah. I have therefore retained the latter.
↩Orientals fancy that the evil eye affects everything beautiful, so the poet would repel its influence from the Paradise he is describing.
↩Lit.: ‘Fetter of annoyance.’
↩Keene translates wuḥúsh ‘gentle animals,’ but I am ignorant of any authority for such a meaning to the word.
↩I am inclined to think khaṭṭ here means ‘line’ in the sense of ‘writing’ rather than in that of ‘edge;’ as it is usual to express reverence for a command contained in a letter, by raising the paper to the head.
↩This form of expression is a common mode of indicating discrepancy between two things. So in Hindústání, ‘Where Rájá Bhoj! and where the oilman Gangá!’
↩That is—attains the highest dignities.
↩The Orientals have a notion that a stone gradually hardens into, and assumes the hue of a ruby. So Sa’dí, Gulistán (page 286 of the author’s translation).
Sálim, i.e., ‘safe.’ Ghánim, i.e., ‘loaded with spoil.’
↩Keene’s version of this passage seems scarcely intelligible: ‘Whose waist might bind the vault, whose girdle is the zodiac, stirrup to stirrup.’ There is, as is too often the case in high-flown Persian, a confusion of metaphors. The mountain is said to be girt with the zodiac and to race with it on such equal terms as to keep stirrup to stirrup. I take kamarash as the nominative to bastí, and supply, khúd-rá.
↩The printed and lithographed editions omit the kih, which, as the MSS. shew, should precede ín maẓnil-rá. The former has a typographical error directly after, muṯarraf for musharraf.
↩Kamá hiyá, ‘as things are,’ ‘as the affair stands.’ Perhaps a play upon words is intended with kumáhah, which signifies ‘binding an amulet on the arm.’
↩Lit.: ‘A thousand years of enjoyment.’
↩Keene renders this line, ‘That I should carry forth my own baggage from this pathless wilderness.’ I cannot think that warṭah can refer to anything but the whirlpool, here.
↩Keene translates zihr ba-gumán, ‘poison upon an uncertainty.’ The words may either mean that it is uncertain whether it be poison; or it being certainly poison, it is uncertain whether it could be counteracted. I incline to the latter meaning.
↩In the Gulistán, ch. i., story xvi., p. 63 of my translation, these lines occur.
↩Ṣad yak is one per cent. and dah chihal of course 400 per cent, or forty for ten.
↩The K’abah is the square temple at Makkah, built, as the Muḥammadans pretend, by Abraham and his son Ishmael, on the site of a still more ancient temple, erected by Seth, and destroyed at the Deluge. It is termed bait-u ’lláh, ‘the House of God,’ and al-ḥaram, ‘the sacred,’ as that at Medinah is styled musjid-u’n-nabí, ‘the mosque of the Prophet.’ The two together were termed ḥaramain, ‘the two sacred edifices,’ and they are both the objects of pilgrimage, a mere sight of the K’abah being reckoned as meritorious as a year’s devotion in any other temple.
↩Sar-afráz, lit., ‘head-exalting.’
↩The MSS. I have consulted, omit the sentence after mí-árand, which is found in the printed and lithographed editions. Keene translates ba-ihtizáz ‘to exercise.’ It may bear that sense, or mean, ‘with exultation.’ The word is no doubt chosen on account of its ambiguity, which is such a source of delight to the Persian author, and of despair to the translator.
↩Keene translates agar chunín ṣúrati báshad by ‘if such should be the fact,’ but I think this would be rather agar chunín báshad.
↩Lit.: ‘Draw thy feet under thy skirt.’
↩Lit.: ‘Be not elated by the form, for in that is nothing.’
↩Lit.: ‘By flying for refuge to God.’
↩Keene translates this, ‘For I, with great penetration, have found out his business.’ I incline to make niháyat a substantive, thus niháyat-i kár, ‘the extent of his business.’ The MSS. omit the ba-firásat niháyat, and rightly as it appears to me.
↩Mujáwirán has two senses, ‘neighbours,’ and ‘the attendants at a shrine.’ Either sense will suit this passage. I have chosen the latter.
↩Keene translates mubálaghah wa iṭnáb ‘great force and length of speech.’ There is not however here, I imagine, any reference to words but to deeds.
↩I have translated these lines somewhat freely and diffusely.
↩Keene translates this sentence. ‘I had built all my projects on the carelessness of the Lion,’ where he seems to me to have missed the sense, and to have assigned a wrong meaning to farághat, which I believe never means ‘carelessness,’ but ‘freedom from care,’ i.e., ‘leisure.’
↩