The King said to the Bráhman, ‘I have heard the narrative of mutually-agreeing friends, and companions fitted for each other and sincere, and I have learned the result of their concord and unanimity, and have become acquainted with the fact that,
Now if you would be pleased to recount the story of an enemy, and how one ought not to be deceived by him, nor to rely on his pretended courtesy and submission. For the purport of the fourth precept is this, that it behoves a wise man, from motives of prudence, not to place any confidence in a foe; since friendship will never spring from an enemy.
Bídpáí said, ‘Of course a wise man will give no heed to the speech of a foe, nor will purchase the hypocritical wares of his deceit and imposture; for a sagacious enemy, for his own purposes, displays the utmost gentleness, and gives his outward conduct a specious appearance at variance with his inward feelings; and employs all the refinements of dissimulation and the arts of deceit, and under cover of them, disposes deep plans and surprising devices. Wherefore it behoves a man of sense and prudence, the more he observes a fawning and obliging demeanor on the part of his foe, to maintain the greater suspicion and watchfulness; and the more his enemy advances the foot of suavity, the closer to draw in the skirt of acceptance; for if he choose to be supine and leave a crevice open, his adversary, who is always on the watch for this state of things, will suddenly open his ambuscade and shoot the shaft of machination at the target of his wish. And in this case, the opportunity for applying a remedy being lost, his regret and repentance will be unavailing; and ‘if’ and ‘would that,’ will be in vain; and that will befall him which happened to the Owl from the Crow.’ Dábishlím inquired, ‘How was that?’
The Bráhman said, ‘They have related that somewhere in the country of China there was a mountain so high that the sense of vision, in order to reach its top, was wont to halt several times; and the watchman of thought had never scaled the platform of its summit save with the ladder of fancy.
And on that mountain, from whose exceeding loftiness and from the breadth of whose area,
the gardener of Divine Wisdom, purely by His omnipotence, had caused a tree to grow, such that its branches passed beyond the Pleiades, and its root had fastened themselves in the bowels of the earth.
And on that many-branched tree there were a thousand nests of crows, and these crows had a king, by name Pírúz [Fortunate], in allegiance to whom all continued, and showed submission to his commands and prohibitions in opening and contracting all matters. One night the king of the owls, whom they called Shabáhang [Moving-by-night], in consequence of the ancient enmity which exists between the crow and the owl, made a night-attack on the crows with an innumerable army and a blood-thirsty host, and destroyed a number of them.298c
In that dark night he consumed with the flames of war many of the black-actioned crows, and sketched on the collar of the condition of those gloomy-fortuned ones the writing, ‘Kill them wherever you find them,’299 and returned from that battle victorious and triumphant and strengthened and glad. The next day when the dark-pinioned crow of night turned its face towards its nest in the west; and the host of stars, like a flock of owls, were concealed in the corner of retirement,
Pírúz assembled his forces, and introduced the story of the onslaught of the army of the owls, and said, ‘Ye witnessed the night-attack of the owls, and saw with your own eyes their courage, and to-day some among you have been slain, and others stripped of their feathers, wounded and with their plumage ruffled. And worse than this is their hardihood and intrepidity, and their eagerness to harass and annoy us crows, and their discovery of our abode and residence, and their becoming acquainted with our resting-places and our nests; and there is no doubt that the success and victory which they have won over this division will embolden them, and next time they will return more quickly, and on the next occasion will obtain a more effectual advantage than at the first, and will cause those who are already sick of the disease of panic to drink of the same beverage, and it is probable that if they make a night-attack again in this manner, they will not leave one of our army alive. Deliberate on this matter, and having stated the nature of your advice, devise with one consent how to repel them.
When Pírúz had finished speaking, five crows from among the leaders of the forces approached the king, and offered the customary prayers and becoming praises. Now these were celebrated among the crows for the excellence of their judgment and their abundant good sense; and renowned for the soundness of their counsels and the justice of their plans. In all they were wont to pronounce, the secrets of victory and success were included, and in every way, which they pointed out, the tokens of prosperity and good were apparent.
The crows were used to rely in all affairs on their advice, and under their guidance undertook measures for repelling disasters; and the king looked upon their judgment as auspicious, and in the matter of counsel did not transgress their sentence. When the eyes of Pírúz fell upon them he honored each with his royal condescension, promised them robes of honor and gifts befitting their condition, and said, ‘To-day is the day of trying your intellect and eminent qualities; place on the string of explanation every jewel that you have treasured up in the casket of your mind and set it on the salver of representation; and every coin that you have struck in the mint of your lofty minds on the touchstone of credit you must bring forth from the coining-house of examination to the mart of manifestation.’ The crows loosed the tongue of eulogy, and said,
Thine own high judgment will be the most right-counseling, and that which passes through thy luminous mind will be best and most proper. What can we, thy slaves, utter that is not a thousand-fold more visible in the mirror of the imperial intellect? and what can we know that is not many times more inscribed on the tablet of the royal wisdom? However, in accordance with the saying, ‘He that is commanded is excusable,’ in whatever we may be interrogated, that, to the extent of our capacity, and the full limit of our ability and power, shall be set forth.
The king asked one of them, ‘What dost thou say on this head, and how dost thou propose to meet this difficulty?’ He replied, ‘O king! the wise who lived before us have pointed out to us the stratagem requisite for this kind of occurrence; and said that when any one is too weak to oppose a powerful enemy he must assuredly bid farewell to his property and effects, and birth-place and fatherland; and must avert his face from his wonted dwelling-place and well-known abode: since to wage war is very perilous, and to step into the plain of battle is a great calamity; especially when a defeat has been suffered from an enemy, and it has been reckoned a piece of good fortune to escape from him. And whoever—inconsiderately advancing to avenge himself, pretends to attack foes, the impression of whose arms and hostility he has experienced, is like one who slumbers in the bed of a torrent and who has built in the face of a flood; and to rely on one’s own strength, and to be intoxicated with one’s own prowess and valour, is far removed from prudence, since the sword has two edges, and the gale of victory can blow from both sides.
The King turned to another and said, ‘What have been thy reflections, and in what manner dost thou foresee a prosperous issue to this matter?’ He replied, ‘My sentiments do not accord with what the former minister has said with respect to flight and the desertion of our abodes. Nay, that counsel beseems not men of understanding, since, at the first onset and attack to suffer one’s self to be so abased, and to bid farewell to one’s home and fatherland, is a cause of disgrace and dishonor.
It is more advisable that we should make preparations for battle, and enter upon the war with all possible dignity, and on the most imposing scale.
The fortunate king may then fondle with the hand of enjoyment the chaste bride of empire, when the water301b of his fire-dropping scymitar has washed out the name of the malignant foe from the tablet of life; and the renowned emperor can at that time raise to the lip of his wishes the cup of blissful repose, when he has crushed with the stone of victory the goblet of the desire of the insolent-eyed foe. The advisable course at present is that we establish videttes and keep watch on every side whence danger can be expected, and if the foe assail us, meet him prepared and upon our guard, and keep our ground manfully in the battle until the face of victory shews itself to the eye of hope through the dust of the conflict, or our blood be mingled with the mire of the battle-ground in the field of honor and renown.
And it behoves kings on the day of battle, and at a crisis when their honor is concerned, not to regard consequences; and, in the time of war, to look upon life and property as valueless.
The King turned the face of attention towards another, asking, ‘What does thy judgment point out and what writing does thy counsel inscribe on the board of representation?’ He replied, ‘I will have nothing to do with what the others say. I think it will be best to despatch spies and employ clever emissaries, and having thoroughly reconnoitred the position of our enemies, to discover whether they show any inclination to make terms or not. If they are content to receive tribute and subsidy from us, and will meet our friendly advances with the favor of acceptance; we, too, will base our affairs on peace, and to the extent of our power and the limit of possibility, we will undertake to pay tribute, and thus relieved from the hardships of war and the affliction of their night-attacks, we will rest in our own country.
And one fitting policy and wholesome counsel for kings, is—that when the preponderant power of their enemy is apparent, and there is cause to dread that his injuries and influence will spread throughout the realm, and that the people will be exposed to destruction and fall into the vortex of perdition—to try the throw302 of stratagem and to meet the doubles302a of his foe with gentleness; and having released his subjects from the check302b of adversity, to make his wealth the shield of the state and realm—since to challenge the throw, though the cast302c of the enemy may be on the carpet302d of overbearing power and haughtiness, and to play the piece302e of opposition madly, in spite of the adversary’s superior strength, is far removed from the decrees of reason and diverse from the adornments of experience.
The King called up another vazír, and said, ‘Do thou, too, point out thy views and explain what enters thy mind.’ He said, ‘O King! in my opinion, to leave our country and undergo the pain of parting and the affliction of exile, is more to be commended than to break the thread of our hereditary honor, and condescend to a foe who can never be aught but our inferior.
If we place ourselves in a position to assent to give tribute, and supply provisions to the owls, they will not be satisfied with that, and will exert themselves to the utmost of their power to extirpate and cut us off. And they have said, ‘It is right so far to show deference to an enemy, as to enable us to obtain our object of him, and not to carry this feeling to such an excess as that our minds should be degraded and our enemy emboldened.’ And they will never be content with a trifling tribute from us; wherefore our remedy is patience and cautious procedure; and if the exigency arise there is nothing to render war inadmissible, inasmuch as the distresses of war are preferable to the obliteration of fame and honor.
The king then called forward the fifth vazír, whose name was Kárshinás [Experienced], and said, ‘I have much reliance on thy understanding, which is capable of solving difficulties—and infinite confidence in thy world-illuminating wisdom.
What opinion dost thou give in this matter; and of war, and peace and expatriation, which dost thou select?’ Kárshinás replied, ‘My counsel is, not to choose war with the owls save on compulsion, and so long as we can see some other issue for our affairs with them, not to base our proceeding on strife, because they are bold in fighting with us, and we feeble against them. They are both stronger and more terrible than we are, and to despise a foe occasions one to be elated with pride, and pride borders on a fall; and before this I was in dread of their attacks, and I have now witnessed with my eyes that which I feared; and they now will not give us trouble, because among them are cautious people, and a cautious man never feels himself safe from his foe, because when he is near, it is possible that he may make a sudden attack; and when the distance between them is great, it may be that he will turn back upon him; and when he takes to flight, an ambuscade may be expected; and when alone one may suppose that he has devised some stratagem and treason. And, according to this way of arguing, war is now in the knot of suspense on their part, and, supposing that they have the intention of making war, it is not advisable for us to engage them, for he is the wisest of creatures who abstains from war; for that which is lost in war is the coin of life, and there is no equivalent for that.
The king said, ‘If thou loathest war, then what dost thou propose?’ He replied, ‘Deliberation is requisite in this matter, and the heights and depths of it must be measured with the step of debate; for kings obtain by just counsels and right deliberation those objects which are not attainable with much treasure, and a countless band of ministers and attendants.
And the main thing in such matters is the luminous judgment of the king; and the counsel of judicious ministers is a cause of increasing the lustre of intellect, whence arises the perfection of light, as the water of the sea is augmented by the volume of the rivers; and, therefore, whoever does not seek assistance from the opinions of upright councillors whose words are worthy of approval, will, in a short time, lose all he may have gained from the assistance of fortune and the support of successful coincidence; while he who fortunately participates in the blessings of reason, and makes attention to the words of those in whom confidence can be placed his outer and inner garment, his happy destiny will be permanent and his fortune secure. And to-day—thanks be to God!—the king is adorned with perfect wisdom and arrayed with the beauty of right counsel.
But since the king has honored me by consulting me in this affair, and has bestowed on me the dignity of a counsellor, I wish to say some things in answer privately, while I will declare a part of my opinion in public. And just as I am averse to war, so I feel repugnant to yield unqualified submission and degrading compliance, and I will not bow my neck to tribute and the endurance of reproach to which our ancestors refused their consent.
A man of a lofty spirit desires a long life that his memory may survive, and his name be perpetuated, and if—which God forbid!—infamy should attach to him, he would prefer a brief career to that.
And I do not think it expedient for the king to make a declaration of his own weakness; for whoever yields to self-abasement, the doors of calamity are opened upon him, and the path of remedy closed against him.
And for the other segments of my discourse privacy is required in order that they may be represented to the view of the realm-adorning judgment of the king.’ One of the courtiers in the assembly said, ‘O Kárshinás! the advantage of consultation is this, that every one of those possessed of sagacity may say his say. Thus it may chance that the shaft of the thoughts of one of them may strike the target of the desired object; and the wise have said, ‘A counsel is an assembly of wise men, and wherever a body of men of sense enter upon an affair, the beginnings and issues thereof will be in the best possible way brought under their examination, and the issue of that matter will be combined with victory and success. Thus a sage has said,
Wherefore what can be the advantage of thy proposing to defer thy speech to a private audience?’ Kárshinás replied, ‘Not every one consulted is worthy of confidence, and state-secrets are not like affairs of ordinary occurrence and. common transactions on which advice may be asked from any one. And they have said, ‘King’s secrets are disclosed by those consulted, or by ambassadors and emissaries.’ And how knowest thou that there is no emissary present here at this time, who is listening to our words in order that he may with all speed transmit to the enemy intelligence of all he hears? So they after due consideration of the beginnings and endings thereof, will close up their dangerous apertures, and the arrow of our schemes will fail to reach the desired mark. And on the supposition that an enemy is present not being allowed; perhaps, each one of the bystanders may have a friend and companion, and it is possible that these friends may demand of them the particulars of this meeting, and a statement of what has been said, and in a very short time the exact nature of our deliberations will pass current in the mouths and on the tongues of all, and thus reach the ear of both friends and enemies; and hence it is that they have urged so strenuously the concealment of secrets.
And whoever divulges his secret to another who bears not the stamp of confidence, will repent in the end when regret is unavailing. And no person needs to conceal his secret with such strenuous care as a king, for if any one but he, who is truly a confidant of the king, becomes acquainted with his secrets, the greatest troubles may be expected to arise from it.
And there have been many, who have lost possession of realm and royalty, yea, of life and existence, through the disclosure of a secret, just as the King of Kashmír, through revealing his purpose to his vazír, fell in a short time from the pinnacle of princely power into the abyss of helplessness, and the sun of his existence set below the horizon of nonentity.’ Pírúz inquired, ‘How was that?’
Kárshinás said, ‘They have related that in the city of Kashmír there was a King, who had placed the reins of subjugation upon the head of the bay courser of the sky, and had cast the lasso of possession over the neck of refractory fortune. From fear of the gleam of his lightning-like scymitar, the wind had not the boldness to blow contrary to the straight direction, and through dread of his life-ravishing shafts, whose effects resembled those of the thunderbolt, water had not the power to flow tortuously on the earth.
And this potent King had in the unviolated sanctuary of his Ḥaram and behind the curtain of enjoyment,307a a beautiful mistress, whose dark ringlets lent assistance to the longest winter-night, and whose life-bestowing countenance outvied the full moon in perfect loveliness. If the vigil-keeping recluse had beheld in a dream the image of her beauty, he would—like the chaste-skirted morn—from attachment to her features, have rent the collar of his religious garb.
The king’s heart was bound to that delicate fair one, so that he regarded the survey of her beauty as the sum of existence, and counted gazing on her ringlets and mole as the principal of life. Every moment the attraction of the love of his mistress drew his soul towards herself, and the curl of her heart-delighting ringlets snatched away the coin of patience from the pocket of his heart.
And that playful and mischief-exciting fair one, when she saw the bird of the King’s heart prisoned in the snare of her fascinating locks, drew the bow of her eye-brow to behind her ear, and let fly the shaft of her glances at the target of his breast; and each hour, with her wily coquetry and sweet blandishments, she tried a new trip307b against the foot of his heart.
And through the capricious haughtiness inseparable from beauty, she was not content simply with the attentions of the King, but made other conquests in all directions, and cast the lasso of her fascinations over the neck of the unfortunate wanderers in the deserts of passion; and finally commenced operations with a youth of graceful form, who was one of the attendants on the king, and a stripling of kind disposition, one of the court favorites, whose tender beard had arrived, like Khiẓr, on the brink of the water of life, and the down of whose cheek shewed itself like a hyacinth of Paradise on the margin of the river Kauṯar.
And the youth too was overpowered by love, so that on the scroll of his feeling there remained not a character from the volume of patience, nor was there a breath of life’s impression left on the page of his fortunes.
The lover and the lady continually carried on question and answer with their eyes and brows, and conversed by gestures and nods. One day the King was seated on the cushion of enjoyment, and had fixed his heart on union with his fascinating mistress, and the youth was standing in attendance, and all the requisites for entertainment were at hand. The King gazed on the bewitching beauty of his fair one, and perused on the page of her cheek the writing, ‘In the most perfect symmetry.’ The lady, careless of the King’s regards, cast her eyes upon the youth, and displayed on her lips a smile which filled Time’s lap with sugar.
The youth too, from the corner of his enchanting eye, responded with a glance, which would have excited in the world a thousand troubles.
When the King observed that circumstance, the fire of jealousy began to blaze in his heart, and now that he had discovered their attachment, he at once withdrew his affections from association with his mistress.
He then thought to himself, ‘To be precipitate in this matter seems far from the path of reason, and to be over hasty in removing these two persons, who, in point of fact, are my enemies, is not agreeable to prudence, and a due regard for consequences.
He then passed over that thing as if he had not observed it, and finished his interview according to his established custom, and passed the night until day with the light of the taper of the beauty of his beloved, but his heart burned moth-like in the flame of the fire of inquietude.
In short, the next day, when the Jamshíd of the sun set up on the dome of the turquoise-coloured heaven the banner of victory and triumph, and the monarch of the planets removed from before the portico of the reclining place of the blue sky the curtain of darkness.
The king came forth [and seated himself] on the throne of his glory, and having proclaimed a summons to appellants, himself decided their suits.
And after he had finished transacting business and giving sentence on the suits, he held a private council with the vazír who was his prime minister. The executioner, Anger, importuned him to state to the vazír the occurrence of the night, and, with his advice, to make the offenders taste of the beverage of punishment; and the president, Reason, bade him conceal his secret, and put in execution the command which his heart required. In the end anger prevailed, and he imparted some hints of what lay hid in his heart to the vazír, and asked advice of him on that head. The vazír too gave sentence for putting them to death, and agreed with the opinion of the king, whereupon the destruction of those two persons was determined, and it was resolved to make each of them drink deadly poison, and so plunge them from the shore of existence into the whirlpool of annihilation, and in a way known only to the king and the vazír, carry the affair to its conclusion; so that the curtain of dishonor310 should not be rent, nor the thread of reputation severed.
The vazír came home from the presence of the king and found his daughter very sad and discomfited. On asking her the reason, he learned that his daughter had been that day in the seraglio of the king, and that she had been treated by the royal lady discourteously in a variety of ways, and had received from her much indignity in the midst of her equals and associates. The vazír was vexed at this circumstance, and said, to soothe his daughter,
Grieve not, for in these two or three days the lamp of her life will be extinct, and the flower of her existence will be withered.’ The girl in order to ascertain this circumstance, made inquiries into the facts of the case. The vazír recounted somewhat310a of what had passed between him and the king, and enjoined her most strictly to keep it secret. The girl, pleased at this good news, came out from her father’s presence, and shortly after, one of the attendants of the seraglio and servants of the Haram came to apologise to her and comfort her. When the preliminary excuses had been made, the vazír’s daughter said, ‘It matters not. If the king’s lady has for no reason given me pain, she will nevertheless soon get her punishment and reward.
The attendant, too, displayed much gratification and delight at this, and asked, ‘Whence dost thou say this? and when will it be that we shall be released from her tyranny and cruelty?’ The vazír’s daughter said, ‘If thou art able to keep my secret, I will disclose to thee this matter and will not conceal a particle from thee.’ The attendant swore an oath to her, and the vazír’s daughter detailed the whole affair exactly as it stood. Hereupon the attendant hurried back and acquainted the royal lady with the circumstance, and the latter sending for the youth to a private consultation, informed him of the secret, and they together induced others to become their accomplices; and before the King could hear of it, they came to his pillow and plunged the bark of his life into the whirlpool of destruction. Thus by disclosing his secret to the vazír, he fell from the post of successful fortune; nay, also from the place of existence, to the narrow strait of ruin and the prison of extinction.
And the moral of this story is, that if kings consult with vazírs, and reap the advantage of their experience and sagacity; nevertheless, it behoves them not to acquaint any one with the secret of their heart, since when they themselves—notwithstanding their divine rank and aid from heaven, and their lofty spirit and noble character—are unable to keep their secrets, how can others who are lower in position and inferior in reason and understanding, preserve it?
When Kárshinás had recounted this story and had perforated a gem of this beauty with the diamond of fascinating style, another of those present in the assembly, loosed the tongue of objection, saying, ‘According to what thou hast said, we must throw up the practice of taking advice, and content ourselves with our own plans and judgment; yet to abandon counsel is not approved by reason and wisdom, and the wise saying, ‘And consult them in the affair [of war]’311 proves that an affair ought not to be undertaken without consultation.
And the verse of God’s word which enjoins his own Chosen one, the Prophet, to take counsel with the attendants of the court of the prophetical office, is a proof that consultation is a divine command, nay, rather an absolute decree.
Kárshinás said, ‘God Most High commanded the Prophet (on whom be the divine blessing!) to consult with others—not that his judgment might be aided by theirs, since the luminous mind of the Lord of Prophecy, (may benedictions and peace be upon him!) which was assisted by the inspiration of God and was adorned with the help of the supreme favor, is a world-displaying mirror, such that the true state of things appears evident and distinct in it—but [the command was given] to attest the advantages of counsel, and to corroborate its benefits, in order that mankind might array themselves with this admirable quality, and turn from self-deceit and opinionatedness towards asking advice of others and sober deliberation; and support their own weak judgment with the aid of that of others; like the light of a lamp, which is augmented by the substance of grease; and the rays of fire, which are increased by the help of wood. Now my words did not imply that we ought to give up consultation, but the meaning which they developed was, that we must conceal the conclusion which we come to from consultation, and keep close our resolve. For the concealment of secrets and the withholding our intentions, contain two most important advantages:—the first is, that it has been proved by experience, that every affair which is kept concealed, is most quickly brought to a successful issue, and the direction, ‘Seek ye help in your momentous affairs,’ alludes to this. The second is, that if that plan should not be in accordance with destiny, and the mind should be unable to perform its purpose, at least the rejoicing of enemies and the mischief-making remarks of detractors will not follow.
Pírúz said, ‘O kind counsellor! I have perfect confidence in thy excessive attachment and loyalty, and of all the vazírs and ministers who wait at this court, I know thee to excel in ability and judgment; whatever then, enters thy mind, of the nature of advice and loyal recommendation, allow not thyself to fail in declaring it.’ Kárshinás made obeisance, and said,
It is incumbent on every servant, when he sees his master devising a measure, to declare that which he sees to approximate nearest to the right; and if he find the royal purpose associated with error, to display the way in which mischief will result from it; and to speak with respectful gentleness; and until he observes his plans and counsels to be thoroughly sound, not to desist. And every counsellor who neglects his benefactor and does not observe what is due from an adviser, nor discharge the requirements of uprightness and confidence, must be regarded as an enemy; and the custom of asking advice of him must be abandoned; and whenever a king thus values and conceals his secrets, and secures a competent minister and an upright counsellor in whom reliance can be placed; and considers the remuneration of those who are serviceable as an obligation according to the laws of princely rule; and recognizes the rebuking and chastisement of offenders as an intimate part of king-craft; it is most probable that his kingdom will remain permanent and his fortunes unshaken, and the hand of the vicissitudes of time will not quickly snatch from him the gifts of favorable destiny.
The King asked, ‘How must secrets be kept hid and from whom?’ Kárshinás replied, ‘The secrets of kings are of different degrees. Some are of such a nature that the king must keep them concealed—even from himself; that is to say, he must carry his concealment of them to such excess that, as one might say, he himself is not to be the confidant of them, how then could he give even a hint of them to others? And a sage has said, on this head,
And there are a few other secret matters in which the position of confidant may be imparted to two persons, and in others it may be extended to three, and it is allowable to go as far as four and five persons. But a secret which the mind may have conceived in the matter of the owls, admits not of being confided to more than four ears and two heads.’ After the King had heard these words he turned his face towards his cabinet, and having sent for his vazír Kárshinás, introduced the subject, and inquired, first, ‘What has been the cause of the hostility and what the reason of the enmity and spirit of rivalry between us and the owls?’ He replied, ‘In ancient times a crow uttered a speech, and the owls nourished a spite in their hearts on that account, and laid the foundation of hostility, and that quarrel and feud have continued to this day.’ The King asked, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that a flock of birds assembled and came to an agreement, saying, ‘We must have a chief and leader, to whom we can have recourse in troublous affairs, that if an enemy come to make war upon us, we may exert ourselves to repulse and get rid of him with this chief’s assistance.’ Hereupon each of them designated one of the birds as chief, and another exerted himself to bring proofs and arguments to make the nomination abortive, until the turn came to the owl. A party were unanimous to make him chief, and to give the reins of authority into the hand of his management. When they entered upon the consideration of this subject, and commenced arguing as to the acceptance or rejection of him, the fire of mischief blazed up between them, and the discussion passed from the limits of moderation to hostility and contention. Some, through partiality to the owl, set up the banner of prejudice, and others threw the stone of discord into the field of agreement. In brief, it was resolved that they should make another arbiter, who was not a member of that assembly, and that both parties should consent to whatever he directed, and that they should thus terminate their dispute. It befell that they saw at a distance a crow, and they said, ‘Lo! there is one who does not belong to this assembly, we will ask counsel of him; and another thing is, he is of our race; and until the nobles and grandees of every particular kind of birds are not agreed, unanimity is unattainable, and without unanimity, this plan that we propose is impracticable.’ Wherefore, when the crow had joined them, they told him the state of the case, and asked him for direction in the matter. The crow replied, ‘What vain thought and impossible longing is this? What has the ill-omened owl to do with the office of ruler and governor? and what business has that ill-favoured creature with the dignity of absolute power and authority?
What has happened to the high-soaring falcon, which boasts equality of place with the eagle of the sky? and what has befallen the beautiful peacock of graceful form, by the ornament of whose feathers and wings the garden of beauty and elegance is adorned? Where is the Humá of fortunate omen, the shadow of whose auspiciousness sets the crown of exaltation on the head of renowned kings? And the glorious eagle,314 at the clang of whose victorious pinions and triumphant wings the summits of the mountains quake, why is he absent? If all the birds of noble race were to perish, and the weak and feeble too were lost without a trace, it would be better that the birds should exist without a king, and not consent to the dishonor of being subjects to the owl, and the disgrace of being ruled by him. For he, together with314a his foul aspect, has a base intellect; and, at the same time that he is a slave to his angry passions, does not refrain from feelings of arrogance; and, besides all this, he is shut out from the beauty of the world-illuminating day, which, according to the sacred verse, ‘And destined the day to the gaining your livelihood,’315 is the stock of the market of subsistence; and he is excluded from the light of the creation-adorning sun, which, as declared315a by the text, ‘And placed therein a burning lamp,’315b is the universe-irradiating lamp and taper that gilds the earth. And what is still worse, passion and levity have got the better of him, and vehemence and absurdity are manifest in all his actions. Abandon this unwholesome project, and base your affairs on wisdom and ability, and control your transactions by the rules of wisdom, and consider it incumbent on you to manage every matter in accordance with sound views, so that ye may always live tranquil and free from anxiety. And your first care must be to appoint among yourselves a president, in whose intelligence and sagacity and good sense and ability you may have perfect confidence and complete reliance. So that whatever circumstances may arise, and whatever momentous affair or accident may take place, he may be equal to the management of it with his judicious mind, like that Hare which pretended to be an ambassador from the moon, and, by skilful management, averted a terrible calamity from his race.’ The birds inquired, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that one year, in the country of elephants, in one of the islands of Zírbád,315c it happened that no rain fell, and the mother-clouds, from the teat of maternal affection, did not distil a drop into the mouth of the thirsty-lipped ones of the cradle of the earth. The fire of drought made the fountains315d moistureless as the eye of the hard-hearted; and the springs of water became dry, like the mouth of the longing of the poor. The elephants, impatient of their sufferings from thirst, complained to their king, who commanded that they should hasten in all directions to procure water, and should carry on the search with a diligence that could not be exceeded. The elephants, having traversed all the coasts and borders of that country with the step of investigation, arrived at a fountain, which they called the fountain of the moon,315e and which by the Persians was named the ‘Chashmah-i-máh.’ It was a deep pool, and contained an inexhaustible supply of water. The elephant-king, with all his retinue and warriors, proceeded towards the fountain to drink water, and around it certain hares had located themselves, and of course some of them were injured by the elephants. Each one on whom an elephant set his foot, received such punishment316 that he was obliged to retire from the stage of life; and met with such chastisement as it is impossible to expound the result, except by referring to the area of non-existence.
By one visit of the elephants many of the hares were squeezed and trampled to death.
The next day they went together to their king and said, ‘A just king is the protection of the oppressed, and the aid of the destitute. Every one who occupies a throne sits there for the administration of justice, not to lead a life of pleasure.
Give us justice and exact satisfaction for us from the elephants, and graciously remedy the sufferings we experience from them; for every moment they may return and, this time, trample under their feet some poor wretches who escaped half dead from their tread.
The King said, ‘This is no trifling matter, that we should enter carelessly upon it. Let every one of you who is possessed of ability, attend, that we may hold a consultation; for the execution of a resolve before counsel has been taken, is not among the happy qualities of the wise.
Now among the hares there was one of sharp intellect, whom they called Bihrúz,316a and men relied on him for the abundance of his good sense, and his perfect understanding and clearness of mind and excellent judgment. When he perceived that the king was distressed by this matter, he advanced saying,
If the King think it advisable, let him send me on an embassy to the elephants, and having appointed a commissioner, despatch him with me, that he may see and hear what I do and say.’ The King said, ‘I have no doubt of thy rectitude and good-faith, and truth and honesty, nor shall I ever doubt of it; and I have oft witnessed and heard of thy speech and actions.
Go with good-fortune, and that which thou deemest to be advisable for the present crisis and adapted to the circumstances, do! And thou knowest that the messenger of a king is his tongue; and whoever wishes to know the title-page of the writing of any one’s mind and the interpretation317 of the secret of his heart, may learn it from the words and actions of his envoy. For if virtue and excellence be visible in the latter, and laudable impressions and praiseworthy conduct discernible in him; they may regard this as a proof of the worthy selection and perfect appreciation of character in the king: while as regards the messenger who is guilty of errors and remissness, the tongue of cavilers will be put in motion, and find occasion for reproach and disparagement. Moreover, the wise have given strict injunctions, and insisted beyond measure, that whoever sends an envoy to a place, must take care that he is the wisest of his tribe, the most eloquent of them in speech, and the most perfect in action. And former kings used for the most part, to send sages on embassies; and Iskandar Ẕú’l-ḳarnain317a went even beyond them in this, for he disguised himself, and used to go in his own person as ambassador, and say,
And an eminent person has said, with reference to the despatch of envoys,
Bihrúz said, ‘O king! although I have such share of the knowledge of the rules of an ambassador’s duty as I have, yet if the king, the asylum of the world would condescend to arrange on the string of favor, some precious jewels from the casket of wisdom, I will make them the ornament of my career; and regarding them as the decoration of my character and the capital upon which I am to draw, will never seek to swerve in all I do or engage in from that canon; and will carry out to the end, my transactions in accordance with that rule of procedure.’ The King said, ‘O Bihrúz! the best direction to an envoy and the most useful rule for the discharge of his functions, is this, that his tongue should be employed like a keen scymitar—vigorously and sharply, but the jewel of courtesy and gentleness should be manifest and displayed on his pages; and the light of benignity and politeness evident and conspicuous on all sides of him. Every speech from the exordium of which roughness is apparent, must be terminated at its close318 with softness and mildness, and if, at the commencement of his discourse, he enter upon his subject spiritedly, with words inspiring terror, he should finish his harangue kindly and soothingly, with amiable expressions and a bewitching suavity.
In short the words of an envoy should be based on the rule of courtesy and rigor, of anger and mildness, of love and violence, of equity and opposition; and he ought to observe the path of binding and loosing, of taking and giving, of rending and binding up, of making and burning,318a so that he may have a due regard to the honor of his king and the glory of his prince, and at the same time may discover the intention of his foes and their hidden mind. And the essence of all directions on the subject of an ambassador-ship is contained in this,
Then Bihrúz made his obeisance and came forth from the court of the king and tarried until Night, clothed in sable garb, drew down the curtain of darkness before the palace of the blue sky; and after a time the table-decker of omnipotence publicly displayed the silver salver of the moon on the table of heaven.
At the time when the centre of the moon had nearly reached the circle of the mid-sky and the beams of the lesser luminary were spread over the dusty surface of the earth, whose surface was illuminated by the world-adorning beauty of that taper of the cell of the destitute; Bihrúz set off for the isle of elephants, and having reached their abode, reflected, ‘In the vicinity of these oppressors, there is risk of losing my life, and danger of destruction; and, even though they should not assail me, yet foresight demands that one should not encounter the terrible and the oppressive; since they, from their excessive haughtiness and pride, care not for the poor and broken, and if a thousand helpless ones perish beneath the tramp of their power, the dust of that trampling would not reach the countenance of their pride.
The advisable course is for me to ascend an eminence, and deliver the message I have in charge, from a distance. If it be accepted, then my object is gained, and if my stratagem succeed not with them, at least I shall escape with life.’ He then ascended a height and called out to the king of the elephants, saying, ‘I am the envoy of the moon, and no fault attaches to a messenger whatever he may say or hear, ‘And the delivery of his message is all that is incumbent on one sent,’319a and although a speech may appear disrespectful and rough, it should nevertheless receive a hearing; for whatever message the moon has given, I cannot use my own discretion either in enlarging or contracting it. And thou knowest that the world-traversing moon presides over the bázár of the night, and is the deputy of the lord of day, and if any one imagine ought against him, and listen not to his message with the ear of attention, he will have struck an axe against his own foot, and striven with his own hand for his own destruction.’ The king of the elephants was startled at this address, and asked, ‘What is the purport of thy embassy?’ Bihrúz replied, ‘The moon says, ‘Whoever sees himself superior to the weak in power and majesty, and becomes inflated by his own might, and spirit, and strength, and prowess, and desires cruelly and tyrannically to overthrow the feeble, this circumstance betokens his own fall, and these feelings plunge him into the whirlpool of destruction.
And from this haughtiness, through which thou regardest thyself as excelling other animals, and valuest thyself on thy strength and terribleness, both of which are on the point of waning, things have come to this pass, and affairs have reached this climax, that thou hast invaded my fountain and marched thy army to that spot, and, from excess of blind hostility, hast troubled that water! What! dost thou not know that if the swift-winged eagle fly over my fountain, the lightning of my wrath consumes her offending pinions; and if the eye of Taurus,320 from the meadow of the sky, look thereon with the glance of appropriation, Arcturus, with his terrible javelin, will transfix that eye.320a
And I, from excess of compassion, have thought fit to warn thee by this embassy. If thou followest up thine own interests and repentest of this temerity, it is well! Else I will come in my own person and will slay thee terribly, and if thou doubtest of this message, come this moment and I will present myself in the fountain that thou mayest see me with thine own eyes, and henceforward forbear to dwell near this spring.’ The king of the elephants was astonished at this address, and having gone to the fountain, beheld the appearance of the moon in the water. Bihrúz said to him, ‘O king! take up a little water, and having washed thy face, prostrate thyself. Perchance the moon, feeling commiseration, will incline favourably to thee.’ The elephant stretched out its trunk, and when it struck the water and agitated it, it seemed to the elephant that the moon made a movement. Hereupon the elephant called out, ‘O envoy of the Moon! it was, perhaps, because of my putting my trunk in the water that the moon moved.’ Bihrúz exclaimed, ‘Heavens! on thy knees with speed! that he may be tranquilized.’ The elephant bent down and did homage, and promised that henceforward he would not come there, nor bring the elephants to the neighborhood of that fountain. Bihrúz conveyed this news to his king, and the hares reposed in peace; and by that stratagem he averted from them so terrible a calamity.
And I have used this story to show that a clever person is required among you to be your leader, in meeting emergencies and in exerting himself for the repulse of foes. And if at this time a clever and intelligent person had been consulted by you, he would never have suffered the title of king to be inscribed on the name of the owl, and would have put you on your guard against bringing on yourselves the disastrous disgrace of his leadership, for together with the numerous bad qualities that he has, fraud and artifice and deceit and craft are also bound up with his disposition. And there is no fault in kings so great as perfidy and bad faith and trickery and insincerity.
And kings are the shadow of the Creator—may His glory be magnified!—and without the sun of their justice, the world’s surface is not illuminated; and save under the shadows of their beneficence and equity, mankind cannot repose in the cradle of security and peace. Nay, the pavilion of heaven is supported only by the pillar of justice; as it is said, ‘By justice stand the heavens.’
Since the cord of the security of mankind is bound up with the existence of a just king, and the tent-cords of heaven, without the aid of justice and beneficence, the manifestors of which are the sovereigns of the age, would be rent asunder, and since the command of kings has free course with respect to the life and property of men; and their mandate, like descending fate, pervades and penetrates in the currents of the loosing and binding of affairs; it therefore behoves a king to be faithful and not tyrannical, and to make choice of tenderness towards his subjects and not violence; and to keep the mirror of his breast untarnished by malice; and not to admit on the tablet of his heart the writing of perfidy and deceit: for those unfortunates, who are afflicted by the tyranny of a perfidious king and the cruelty of a false ruler, meet with what befell that Partridge and Quail, from the cat that fasted.’ The birds asked, ‘How was that?’
The Crow said, ‘I had my nest on a tree in the skirt of a mountain, and in my neighborhood there was a Partridge. In consequence of our proximity, the feelings of friendship between us were strengthened to the utmost, and from constantly seeing him I had become familiar with him, and at our leisure-seasons a conversation would spring up between us. All of a sudden he disappeared, and the time of his absence was protracted, so that I began to suspect he had perished, and after a long interval a Quail came and took up his residence in the Partridge’s abode. Since, however, I was uncertain as to the fate of the Partridge, I did not quarrel with the Quail for what he did; and I said,
Some time elapsed after this circumstance, and the circling heavens made several revolutions, when the Partridge returned, and seeing another in his abode, began to quarrel, saying, ‘Give up my place and vacate my lodging.’ The Quail replied, ‘The house is now in my occupancy and I am the possessor; if thou hast the right to it, thou must exert thyself to prove it.’ The Partridge replied, ‘Thy possession is by violence and usurpation, and I hold proofs and documents as to this matter.’ In short, a downright quarrel arose between them, and the fire of mischief blazed higher every instant, and the flag of obstinacy and strife was each moment held more aloft; and however much I tried, by artifice, to reconcile them, it was all in vain, and it was decided that reference should be made to the judge, that he might hear what both parties had to say, and having issued his commands as justice should require, might terminate their dispute. The Partridge said, ‘Hard by there is a cat, pious and abstemious, devout and uninjurious. Always during the day he fasts, and passes the night-hours in devotion; and from the time when they beat the kettle-drum of the golden-throned Jamshíd of the sun, in the vestibule of the palace, ‘The heaven we have built,323 till the time when they spread the carpet of the sable-vested sovereign of the night in the expanse, ‘And we have stretched forth the earth,’323a he melts his precious soul into the crucible of abstemiousness with the fire of hunger. And from the hour when the calvacade of the stars and the host of the fixed stars come rushing into the plain of the sky; and the period when the chamberlains of omnipotence, with the candle of the world-beautifying dawn which gleams from the ascending-place of the horizon, display to the inhabitants of the regions of the earth the tokens of the outposts of the sun, (which warns the world that this ascetical cat stands taper-like on the foot of devotion and melting with the heat of religious fervor and the blaze of heavenly love, showers down tears,
the breaking of his fast is limited to water and herbs, and the injuring any living thing and spilling its blood is far removed from his habits. No ḳáẓí can be more just than he, nor can we secure any better arbiter to give a rightful decision between us. Let us go to him, that he may settle our case.’ Both parties consented, and proceeded to the house of the judge. I, too, following their footsteps, set out—being desirous of seeing this fast-keeping cat, (which, thought I, is surely one of the wonders of the world), and of observing his justice in deciding between the litigants. No sooner did that perpetual faster set eyes on them, than he stood upon his right foot and turned his face towards the sanctuary, and assuming the air of a pilgrim engaged in the performance of the ceremonies of devotion, entered upon a prayer of prodigious length, and with the most intense deliberation persevered in making genuflexions with the most scrupulous exactness.
The Quail was astonished at his demeanor, and the Partridge seriously contemplated his proceedings. They waited till he had finished his prayer, and having humbly offered their respectful salutation, requested that he would be judge between them, and settle their lawsuit about the house, according to the decrees of justice. The cat, after they had importuned him and pressed him excessively, bade them state their case. The Partridge and Quail then represented the circumstances. ‘Young people,’ quoth the Cat, ‘old age has made a great change in me, and my external senses have suffered a complete decline. The revolution of the mill-stone of the circling heavens has sprinkled the dust of decrepitude upon my head, and the wintry hand of the cruel autumn of life has taken away the moisture of freshness and vigor from the plant of the garden of existence; and the night324 of youth, which is the cause of all strength and energy, has been exchanged for the morning of hoary age, which is an accumulation of all defects.
Come nearer and speak louder, and tell me your pretensions again, in order that I may become acquainted with the claim of the plaintiff and the reply of the defendant, and may be able to pass sentence, and before I proceed to do so, I may favor you with some friendly advice, and may deliver some admonition comprising your welfare in the things of faith and of this world.
If you will listen to my words with the ear of the heart, and bring them into the place of acceptance, you will reap the fruits thereof, both in this world and in that which is to come; and if you are refractory and violate its tenor, at least, I am absolved as regards my own conscience and honor.
The best thing is, that both of you should seek the path of right and not choose to swerve from the way of uprightness, nor be deluded by the wealth and effects of the world, which incline towards the place of annihilation and decay. Nor, owing to the acquisition of some trifle from the rubbish of this transitory world by wrong appropriation, deprive yourselves of the final reward and enduring bliss.’ The Partridge said, ‘O righteous judge! if men restricted their endeavors to the pursuit of what is right, and if every one made the quality of conscientiousness and uprightness his habit, there would be no need of tribunals nor of troubling judges, and the custom of plea and rejoinder, and of swearing and giving evidence, would be erased from the surface of the book of Time. But when the eyes of each of the two—plaintiff and defendant—is afflicted with the ophthalmia of selfish motives, truth is not visible to them, and, consequently they stand in need of some one whose eyes are brightened with the jeweled collyrium of truth, and around the mirror of whose vision the dust of self-interest has not settled; in order that he may display to them the loveliness of what is right, and bring it beautifully forth to the eye of their heart; and this very subject has been elucidated in a metrical story by one of the eminent persons in the faith.’ The cat asked, ‘How was that?’
The Partridge said,
And, thanks be to God! the rust of interest has not darkened the mirror of thy pure heart, and the eye of thy conscience has not been dimmed by the rays of the fire of bribery; and for this reason it is thoroughly certain that thou wilt exhibit to our sight what is right, and wilt appoint the minister of punishment to act against him who draws back his neck from the law.
The cat said, ‘Thou hast spoken well, and truth demands that you both should pluck up the plant of interest from the ground of your heart, and know that he who has right on his side is in truth victor, though his claim be not to outward experience gained; while the wrongful appellant is spiritually baffled and defeated, though practically a decree be passed in accordance with his wish; for ‘Verily falsehood is of short continuance.’326 And how well it has been said,
And I say to you, Store up good actions as a treasure for the final state, and trust not in life, which is like a summer cloud; and, like, the rose-garden’s bloom, swiftly fleets away; and regarding mankind both high and low, far and near, as your own soul, suffer not yourselves to do anything to them that ye would not like for yourselves.
In this manner he breathed his spells upon them, until they became friendly with him, and advanced securely and unconcerned, without shunning him or putting themselves on their guard. Then with one spring he seized them both and supplied the kitchen of his stomach with the food of their delicious flesh; and such was the upshot of all his show of prayers and fasting and advice and abstinence, that is to say, it all ended in the gratification of his own foul appetites and impure passions.
And I have adduced this story in order that it may be known that one ought not to place confidence in an unprincipled and perfidious person. And the conduct of the deceitful and hypocritical owl bears this complexion, and his faults are infinite, and his vices innumerable, and this portion, which I have repeated, is but a drop from a boundless ocean, and a mere atom in comparison with the nine revolving heavens.
And God forbid! that you should choose to act thus, and place him on the throne of sovereignty: for as soon as the royal diadem rests on his ill-omened head, without doubt the stubborn heavens will smite it with the stone of calamity, and whenever the throne-step of dominion is pressed by his inauspicious foot, the etherial vault will wrathfully rain down the fire of disaster upon it; and inasmuch as his nature is impure and his essence imperfect, the effect of your encouragement of him will be lost.
After hearing these words, the birds at once desisted from the affair, and abandoned their intention of becoming the subjects of the owl; and that unhappy wretch, remaining stupified and sad in the corner of dejection, said to the Crow, ‘O black-faced, impudent one! after removing from before thyself the curtain of modesty, thou hast indulged in these insults against me, and by hurting my feelings, hast brought me to harbor resentment and hostility, and raised a dust of terror that the revolution of Time will not be able to remove in a hundred thousand centuries, and hast kindled a fire of mischief whose fire cannot be quenched with the water surrounding the heaven!
I know not whether the first advances came from my side, that thou hast displayed all this affection and friendship; or whether thou hast thought fit to come forward by way of commencement with so much courtesy and kindness! Learn, however, that if they fell a tree, a branch will spring from its root, and, increasing in vegetation, it will return to its former state; but when the plant of friendship has been severed by the saw of ill-treatment, the springing up of the shoot of sincere regard is altogether out of the question; and if a wound be inflicted with a sword, it may be healed, and admits of cure with a plaster, but the wound which words inflict can never be cured, and the gash they make no ointment can salve.
It is possible to extract the point of an arrow which is fixed in the breast, but the shaft which the tongue infixes in the heart can never be drawn out.
And everything from which injury can be anticipated finds an antidote in something else, except malice, which cannot be obviated by anything. For example fire,—which, though it burns, may be quenched with water; but the flame of rancor cannot be extinguished with the water of the seven seas. Poison, too, though deadly, may have its injurious effects removed from the body by theriaca; but no such antidote can expel the poison of malice from the heart. And from this time forth between my race and thine a tree of enmity has been planted, whose root reaches to the bottom of the earth, and whose boughs stretch out beyond the height of the Pleiades.
The Owl having uttered this speech, departed vexed and distressed; and the Crow, repenting what he had said, fell into a long train of thought, and said to himself, ‘It is a strange thing that I have entered upon, and stirred up against my tribe fierce enemies and cruel foes. What had I to do with advising the birds? and it did not become me to deliver these sentiments more than other parties, who are greater and stronger than I am. Surely these sagacious birds knew the faults of the owl better than I, and better understood what measures were advisable in this matter; but they wisely dreaded the termination of this matter and the issue of this debate; and acted in accordance with the purport of the saying, ‘He who holds his peace is safe.’ The tongue has been created in the shape of a sword that men may not use it in play; and sword-play is the practice of merry-andrews, while men of the sword exercise that weapon only in the ranks of war. Without absolute necessity, to bare the sword of the tongue from the sheath of the palate, is the same thing as cutting one’s throat and risking one’s life.
And worse than that,—these words were spoken in the owl’s very presence; and, doubtless, this increased his fury and resentment, and the hearing328 abusive words piles wrath on wrath. And they have said that a wise man, though he have perfect confidence in his own strength and might, must not allow himself to make belligerent advances, and to commence a quarrel; but, rely on his own preparations and majesty, and not stir up strife. For, whosoever has a tried antidote, and a variety of drugs collected in his possession, ought not, trusting therein, to volunteer to drink deadly poison.
And sages agree that the effect of deeds is preferable to that of words, and that acting is proved to excel speaking; and the effect of a good action is apparent in the issue of things, and associates the termination of matters with good. But he whose words preponderate over his deeds, and who employs himself in rhetorically setting off to advantage what ought to be done, and embellishes it in men’s eyes with fine talking and eloquence, the end of his proceedings will, in a short time, be disgrace and reproach. And the end of words without deeds can be nothing but regret and remorse. And I am that great talker and little doer that did not use salutary reflection as to consequences, nor deliberate sufficiently. And had the crown of prudence adorned the head of my affairs, and had I had a portion from the boundless treasures of wisdom, I should first have consulted some one; and after deciding as to what was to be said, I should have uttered a discourse innocent and unblameable, and in which there could have been nothing mischievous.
Since, however, I entered upon this subject without the direction of prudent advisers and the counsel of the perfectly sagacious, and uttered some words impromptu which caused disturbance and excited enmity, what wonder that I have been reckoned among the number of the depraved; and that fatuity, ignorance, and absurdity have been imputed to me? And it has become proverbial, that ‘the babbler is a dotard,’ in other words, that the great talker is also a foolish talker; and although, in externals, the power of speech is that which discriminates between men and brutes, still sages account the utterer of evil words as below brutes in rank, and regard the dumb as better than those who speak foolishly.
In short, the Crow vexed himself for a time,330 and gave vent to self-accusations, such as these and then flew away. Such was the commencement of the feud between us and the owls, which I have recounted.’
The King said, ‘O Kárshinás! I have heard thy words, and they contain much that is valuable; and to associate with the wise, and to make their words the guide of our actions and procedure is a presage of good fortune and success, and a token of arriving at perfection.
And now, after that the dwelling of my heart has been illuminated by the lamp of luminous language, which alone can be the taper of the cells of the recluses of the monasteries of friendship; explain in what way thou hast devised a remedy for the state of our soldiers, who, like moths, are consumed by the fire of the violence of the owls; and what counsel thou hast taken for removing the apprehensions of my subjects and tranquilizing the hearts of the soldiery?
Kárshinás unloosed the tongue of gratitude, and said,
As to what thy vazírs of luminous mind laid before thee in their statements, with respect to war and peace, and abiding and flight, and submitting to tax and tribute; my mind is satisfied with none of their proposals; and my hope is that, by some kind of stratagem, we shall obtain success and deliverance; for many persons have gained their wish by the practice of artifice and humble bearing; and have effected, by stratagem and deceit, what they could not have brought about by war and measures of that kind, as the thieves of the country of Gurgán330b got by artifice, a sheep from the hands of a holy man.’ The King asked, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that an abstemious devotee purchased a fat sheep331 for sacrifice, and having tied a string round its neck, was leading it towards his hermitage. On the way a party of thieves, observing the sheep, opened the eye of covetousness, and bound the loins331a of trickery331b and deceit, and stood in the recluse’s way. The Gurgání rogues felt their hungry appetites excited, but were unable to rush like tigers to clutch the prey; consequently, they had recourse to fox-like stratagem, and resolved to put the recluse in a hare’s sleep.331c After much consideration, the opinions of all were unanimously given for a particular kind of trick, and they agreed that they would, by that trick, deceive the simple-minded and innocent devotee, and so get possession of the sheep. One of them then advanced to the recluse, and said, ‘O shekẖ! whence bringest thou this dog?’ And another passed by and said, ‘Whither art thou taking this canine animal?’ A third met him in front and exclaimed, ‘O shekh! what, dost thou intend to go hunting, that thou hast got a dog in thy hand?’ Another accomplice came up behind and asked, ‘O shekh! for how much didst thou purchase this dog?’ In the same way one after another, from every quarter and direction,—they came up to the shekh, and all agreed in saying the same words. One said, ‘This is a shepherd-dog.’ Another, ‘This is a herdsman’s dog.’ Another sneeringly cried, ‘And this man is in a religious garb; why does he pollute his hands and clothes with this dog?’ And another rebuked him, saying, ‘The holy man is leading this dog to educate him and show him honor for the sake of God.’ In this manner all the rogues uttered their wily remarks and all harped on the same string.331d
From the multiplication of these speeches doubt was engendered in the heart of the pious man, and he said, ‘Heaven forbid that the seller of this animal was a sorcerer, and by magic made a dog appear to me like a sheep! My best course is to let this dog go, and run after the seller and get back the money which I gave him as the price of the sheep.’ The unfortunate recluse then, from excessive simplicity, let go the sheep and started off after the seller, and that gang seized it and carried it off to their house, and without loss of time, forthwith slaughtered it. Thus, by means of that trick, the poor recluse lost the sheep and did not recover his money.
And I have brought forward this story, to show that we, too, should employ stratagem, since it is only by deceit and artifice that we can get the better of them.
King Pírúz said, ‘Bring forward what thou hast to suggest.’ Kárshínás replied, ‘I will devote myself to this enterprise. And they have decided that the destruction of one individual, which secures the existence and survival of a large number, is in accordance with reason and precept.332 I think it advisable that the king, in the general assembly and meeting in which both high and low are convened, should be wroth with me and command them to pluck out my feathers and to cast me, smeared with blood and wounded, beneath that same tree, on the boughs of which are our nests. And let the king go with his whole army and encamp in such a place, and await my coming, in order that I may spread the net of deceit in their way, and having arranged my stratagem, may come and unfold whatever the crisis may require to be done.’ The king then issued from his cabinet, filled with wrath, and all his courtiers were in expectation as to what announcement would proceed from the private consultation of the king and the vazír, and to what initiatory measures their counsel and deliberation would give rise. When they found the king wrathful, they hung down their heads and pondered; and king Pírúz commanded that they should pluck out the feathers and tail of Kárshínás, and stain his head and feet with blood, and cast him underneath the tree. And the king himself with his army and retinue, set off for the place which had been appointed and agreed upon. By the time these things were done, the sun had set and the tire-woman of omni-potence had brought forward and displayed the brides of the stars upon the platform of the gem-ornamented heavens.
Shabáhang, the king of the owls, was all day consulting with his vazírs to the effect that, ‘Since we have become acquainted with the crows’ abode, and have wounded and overthrown many of them, if this night another night-attack be made upon them, the day of their existence will be exchanged for the evening of death, and we shall pass two or three days in the corner of our cots in peace.
But when night, which is the day of the market of the power and might of the owls, had robed itself with the garment of darkness and the apparel of sable hue, and had gained possession of the throne of dominion over the world, and the leader of the hosts of Zanzabár,333 set up his black banner with the purpose of making an onslaught, by night, on the horsemen and tribe of the Tátárs,
the king of the owls, with all his troops and followers, put to the vote the matter of the night-attack, and, as the assembly were unanimous for it, they marched towards the abode of the crows.
And when the army of the owls reached the abode of the crows, there was no trace to be found, nor intelligence got of them. The owls moved about in all directions in perplexity, and Kárshinás writhed beneath the tree, and uttered faint groans. An owl, hearing his voice, informed the king, and Shabáhang, with some owls who were his favorite courtiers, and the confidants of the secrets of the king, came to where he lay, and asked, ‘Who art thou? and what has befallen thee?’ Kárshinás declared his name, and that of his father,333b and announced his office as vazír, and the nature of his abilities. The King said, ‘I know and have often heard accounts of thee. Now inform us where the crows are?’ He replied, ‘My state is a proof that I cannot possibly be in their secrets.’ Shabáhang demanded, ‘Since thou wast the vazír of the king of the crows, and master of his secrets, and consulted and confided in by him, through what perfidy has this disgrace been inflicted on thee? and by what crime hast thou deserved this punishment?’ Kárshinás replied, ‘My master became suspicious of me, and the envious found an opportunity of slandering me, until that happened to me which has happened, and my former services and previous devotion passed all at once into the expanse of annihilation.
Shabáhang inquired, ‘What was the cause of the king’s suspicion?’ He answered, ‘King Pírúz, after your night-attack, summoned his ministers and demanded counsel of each one of them as to this event which had happened, and the turn came to me. He said, ‘Point out a remedy for these circumstances which have happened, and devise some stratagem for averting this misfortune.’ I replied, ‘We have not strength to encounter the owls, for their valor in war exceeds that of ourselves, and their might and terribleness is greater than our prowess and the awe which we inspire. Moreover the reins of the steed of fortune are in the hands of the will of the owl-king, and the step of the throne of success is adorned with the star-reaching foot of their monarch, and to grapple in war with the possessor of happy auspices betokens disaster; and to boast of encountering the lord of prosperity which daily augments, forebodes an approaching downfall.
The advisable course is to despatch an envoy. If they light the torch of war, we must consume our houses with the flames of dispersion, and wander scattered in the corners of the world; and if they make peaceful advances, we will agree to any tax or tribute they may claim from us, and be grateful to them.
Our king was troubled and said, ‘What word is this that thou speakest? and how dost thou display all this boldness? Thou wouldest frighten me from making war upon the owls, and thou representest my army as of no weight compared with his followers!
I again loosed the tongue of advice and loyally and faithfully urged my remonstrances, saying, ‘O king! swerve not from the right path, nor plunge inconsiderately and without reflection into an affair, led on by the passions of thine own heart. Adopt a spirit of conciliation, for a powerful enemy may be soothed by courtesy and submission, and a refractory quarry may be netted by suavity and gentleness.
And in accordance with this sentiment is the operation of a furious wind, from which the feeble grass escapes safely on account of its humility, while the tree of many branches, on account of its roughness and obstinacy is torn up by the roots.
The crows were incensed at my admonitions, and accused me of cherishing a partiality for the owls, and of deserting my own race. The king, led by the words of my enemies, turned aside from my counsel and wounded me in the manner ye behold, and I observed that their purpose was war, and in preparing a stratagem to repel you.’ When the king of the owls had heard the words of Kárshinás, he asked one of his vazírs, saying, ‘What thinkest thou should be done with this crow?’ He replied, ‘There is no occasion to think about it. We must clear the face of the earth as soon as possible from the foulness of his principles,335a and consider it a vast pleasure and complete gain, and we must not let slip the opportunity of slaying him, viewing it as a blessing than which we shall obtain no greater; and in these half-extinct embers I see a fire whose flame it would be impossible to quench.
And whoever lets slip an opportunity; after he has once lost the power, never recovers it again, and it is most probable that his regrets will be afterwards unavailing. And he who finds his enemy weak and alone, will do well to free himself of him; for if his foe escape from that peril, he will gather strength and provide means, and lie in wait for vengeance.
Forbid it Heaven! that the king should heed his words or listen to his soul-consuming spell, for the wise have said, ‘To rely on an untried friend is far removed from a rational procedure; what confidence, then, should be placed in a deceitful and malicious enemy?
Kárshinás having overheard somewhat of this discourse, wept sadly, and exclaimed,
These words made an impression on the heart of the owl-king, and he turned away his face from that vazír and demanded of another, ‘What sayest thou?’ He replied, ‘I cannot give my sentence for his execution, for a magnanimous man, when he finds his enemy weak and helpless, ought mercifully to alleviate his distress, and display to mankind his own virtues by the manifestation of pardon and beneficence; and quarter ought to be shown to a panic-stricken suppliant, and the hand reached out to a miserable and fallen being.
And there are certain things which soften a man towards his enemy, as the fear of the thief made the Merchant’s Wife kind to her husband.’ The king inquired, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that there was a merchant who was rich, but very bad-tempered and ill-favored, and withal old and infirm, and stingy and morose.
And this man of repulsive appearance had a wife of pure manners and pleasing form, such that the moon of the fourteenth night, by the help of borrowing the glow of her cheek, could make the dark night brighter than the shining day; and the world-illuminating lamp of the sun, which is the candle before the portico of the sky, could not have competed with the radiance of the taper of her heart-delighting countenance. The tongue of the age, in praise of that life of the world, warbled these words,
And the jewel-scattering pen was inscribing on the pages of description a particle of her fascinations in this manner,
Her husband, with a hundred thousand efforts,337 sought her favor, and she was flying from his approaches to a hundred thousand removes, and was not to be won by his coaxings, nor deceived by his cajolings. And, at every fresh instance of her cruelty, the man felt his attachment renewed, and every moment he evinced an accession of love in return for her dislike.
The hand of his desire did not reach the lasso of her locks without sore fatigue, nor did the flower of his wish bloom in the rose-garden of her beauty without the thorn-prickings of trouble.
One night a thief came to the house. It happened that the merchant was asleep, and the wife being awake, observed the entrance of the thief. Alarmed at this, she clasped her husband tightly to her breast; and the merchant, awaking from his slumbers, found his treasure in his arms, and, from excessive joy, uttered a shout, saying,
What compassion is this which has been shewn me from the unseen world? and by what service have I deserved this boon?
On looking well about him he perceived the thief, and exclaimed, ‘O my brave fellow of auspicious footstep! take what thou wilt of my goods, and carry it away; for, through the blessing of thy arrival, this cruel, faithless one has become kind and tender to me.’
And the moral of this fable is, that there are some emergencies, the sight of which renders nought proper save forgiveness and kindness to our enemy; and the condition of this crow is of the number.
The King asked the third vazír, saying, ‘What does thy judgment pronounce in this case?’ He replied, ‘It is best that the king should not strip him of the garment of existence, but rather invest him with the robe of security, and not withhold from him the tokens of encouragement and bene-volence, that he, too, in return may look upon the king’s service as a rich prize, and open the gates of sincere counsel and loyalty. Moreover, the wise have always labored to detach a party from their enemies; and having thrown the stone of discord among them, by every artifice they can think of, separate them into two bodies; since the disputing of enemies is a cause of encouragement to friends, and of assisting their operations. So the falling out of the Thief and the Demon proved the source of tranquillity to the recluse.’ The king asked him, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that a devotee of pure disposition, abstemious and virtuous, had made his cell in one of the environs of Baghdád, and passed his morning and evening hours in the worship of the all-wise King (May His name be magnified), and by these means had shaken his skirt clear from the dust of worldly affairs; and had perused, from the page of life, the description of its treachery and faithlessness, and had learned that the sweet draught of joy is unattainable without the sting of injury, and that the coin of the treasure of wealth cannot be gained without the pain of the burthen of toil.
He had bowed his head in the corner of contentment under the collar of freedom from care, and rested satisfied with the portion that was supplied to him from the invisible world.
In short, one of his sincere disciples got knowledge of the poverty and fastings of the holy man, and by way of offering, brought to the hermitage of the shekh, a she-buffalo, young and fat, with whose delicious milk the palate of desire was oiled and sweetened. A thief beheld the circumstance, and his hungry appetite was excited; and he set off for the cell of the recluse. A demon, too, joined him in the likeness of a man. The thief asked him, ‘Who art thou, and whither goest thou?’ He replied, ‘I am a demon, who have assumed this shape, and, putting on this guise, am going to the hermitage of the recluse; for many of the people of this country, through the blessing of his instruction, have began to repent and to be converted, and the market of our temptations has become flat. I wish to get an opportunity and kill him. This is my story which thou hast heard: now tell me, who art thou and what is thy story?’ The thief replied, ‘I am a man whose trade is roguery, and I am occupied night and day with thinking how to steal some one’s goods and impose the scar of affliction on his heart. I am now going, as the recluse has got a fat buffalo, to steal it and use it for my own wants.’ The demon said,
Praise be to God! that the bond of homogeneousness is strong between us; and this alone is sufficient to ally us, since the object of both is to assail him.’ They then proceeded on their way, and at night reached the cell of the recluse. The latter had finished the performance of his daily worship, and had gone to sleep, just as he was, on his prayer-carpet. The thief bethought himself, that if the demon attempted to kill him he would probably awake and make an outcry; and the other people who wcre his neighbors, would be alarmed, and in that case it would be impossible to steal the buffalo. The demon, too, reflected that if the thief carried off the buffalo339 from the house, he must of course open the door. Then the noise of the door would very likely awaken the recluse, and he should have to postpone killing him. He then said to the thief, ‘Do thou wait and give me time to kill the hermit, and then do thou steal339a the buffalo.’339b The thief rejoined, ‘Stop thou till I steal the buffalo,339c and then kill the hermit.’ This difference was prolonged between them, and at last the words of both came to wrangling. The thief was so annoyed that he called out to the recluse, ‘There is a demon here who wants to kill thee.’ The demon, too, shouted, ‘Here is a thief who wants to steal thy buffalo.’339d The hermit was roused by the uproar, and raised a cry, whereupon, the neighbors came, and both the thief and the demon ran away; and the life and property of the holy man remained safe and secure through the quarrel of his enemies.
When the third vazír had finished speaking, the first vazír was astonished, and said, ‘I see that this crow has bewitched you with his wiles and deceit. Beware that ye wake out of the sleep of supineness, and take the cotton of conceit out of the ear of vigilance, and see the necessity of pondering thoroughly on the consequences of this thing. For wise men base their actions especially in guarding against the stratagems of enemies on the rule of real advantage, and are not seduced by false speeches and inconclusive reasoning. While on the other hand the incautious, not heeding this truth, adopt a gentle behaviour on a trifling show of attachment; and, forgetting ancient grudges and hereditary feuds, are pleased to become reconciled, and are ignorant that though a foe shew himself in a thousand forms, the rust of hatred will still remain in the tablet of his heart.
And still more strange is it that through ignorance a Baṣrah fringe340 appears in your sight a precious work from Baghdád, and in your eyes a glass bead seems a royal gem. And your circumstances are like those of the Carpenter who was deceived by the words of his profligate wife.’ The king asked, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related340a that in the city of Sarándíp there was a Carpenter who had reached the uttermost limits of stolidity. He had a wife excessively beautiful and extremely lovely. She was a gazelle-eyed charmer who used to strike down the savage lion with her glance of coquetry, and imposed by her fox-like stratagems a hare’s sleep on the knowing ones of the world.
The carpenter was infatuated with her, and could never rest an instant without seeing her. The wife, compelled by necessity granted him her favors, but drank the cup of desire in the feast of pleasure with others who were his rivals. In the vicinity lived a youth, in stature like the cypress that grows in the garden of the living spirit, and in face like a fresh rose whose cheeks have been washed in the water of life.
The fair one’s eyes fell upon him, and her heart was bound to him in love and affection. Things between them proceeded from correspondence to intimacy, and from letters and messages to unintermitting enjoyment and intercourse, morning and evening. A party of envious people, with whom the very idea of the union of two lovers was wont to turn bright day into gloomy night, and whom the thought of ‘Why should the lamp of converse be kindled between two persons? would consume with the fire of envy and jealousy,
having got information of those circumstances, acquainted the Carpenter with them. The poor fellow, though he had not much jealousy, wished to learn the certainty of the matter, and take steps to remedy it. He said to his wife, ‘Get some food ready for a journey, for I am going to a village, and though the distance is not great, nevertheless my stay there will be for some days, and I do not know how I shall endure being without thee, nor how I can bear to be melted in the crucible of separation.
The wife too simulated affection, and, weeping for joy, let fall some tears from her eyes; and forthwith prepared the provisions, and dismissed her husband. The Carpenter as he was going gave her many injunctions, saying, ‘Thou must securely fasten the door, and take good care of the household stuffs, that during my absence thieves may not find an opportunity, and we suffer loss in our property and goods. The wife received these instructions with good will, and swore to observe them, and directly her spouse was gone, sent to tell her lover.
Her paramour promised, saying, ‘As soon as a watch of the night passes, expect the rising of the morn of union.’ The fair one, rejoicing at that promise, made preparations to entertain him.
The Carpenter returned at an unseasonable hour to his house by a secret way. It happened to be at the time when the sun and moon were in conjunction, and the lover and his mistress were in mutual raptures at the sight of one another. At one time the beautiful youth, with his ravishing glances, threw the fire of perturbation into the harvest of her patience. At another, the fair one, like a silver moon, with her fascinating coquetry, made havoc of the reason and senses of the youth.
The hapless Carpenter waited until they betook themselves to the bedchamber, and then very softly crept under the bed, that he might observe what they were doing in private. Suddenly his wife’s eyes fell on his foot, and she perceived that the departure of her spouse had been a mere pretext to discover the truth of this affair. Whispering to her lover, she said, ‘Ask of me in a loud voice whether I like thee or my husband best.’ The youth raised his voice, and said, ‘O pretty one! I want to know whether the love thou hast in thy heart for me is greater than thy attachment to thy husband?’ The woman replied, ‘How camest thou to ask this question, and what is the use of inquiring?’ The youth, in fear of his life, pressed her for an answer, and took her hand.342 The woman answered, ‘If I am to speak the truth, these accidents happen to women either from trifling and carelessness, or from wantonness and lust; and they take up with friends without caring about their worth or birth, or without laying stress on their vices or bad habits. And when their sensual wants are satisfied, and their passion begins to wane, they soon regard them as mere strangers.
But their husband resembles the life of their bosom, and is precious as the light of their eyes,
May she never reap the fruit of life and youth, and means and existence, who does not value her husband a thousand times above dear life itself, and who does not wish for the capital of vitality simply to increase his comfort and his happiness here and hereafter!
When the Carpenter heard this speech, tenderness and commiseration arose in his heart, and emotion and pity overpowered him, and he said, ‘It had very nearly happened that I had wronged this woman, and had become guilty and sinful in the sight of God. After all, what was this evil suspicion that I entertained of her, while the poor thing was all the time pining for me, and terribly in love with me; and, in the creed of friendship and path of love one ought not to attach much weight to it if, with all this attachment and friendship that she has for me, she make a little slip; nor ought one to reckon too strictly with her for follies like these which she may commit, for no creature can be pure from errors and failings.
And I, blockhead that I am! have given myself all this trouble, and plunged myself in such distress gratuitously. My best course is now not to embitter their enjoyments, and not to disgrace her before a strange man, since she acts so from mere playfulness and folly, and not intentionally and of set purpose. I ought to fix my eyes on her merits, and close my eyes to her failings.
He then remained sitting in silence in the same place under the bed, and did not utter a word until they had finished their toying, and the flag of gloomy night had been reversed.
the stranger departed, and the Carpenter’s wife pretended to be asleep on the bed. The Carpenter came gently out from under the bed, and sat down upon it courteously and kindly, and was wiping off the dust of dejection from his wife’s face with the sleeve of suavity, and stroked her limbs gently with his hand, until the wily woman opened her eyes, and fixing her eyes upon her husband as he sate at her pillow, started up and said,
She then asked, ‘When didst thou safely arrive?’ He replied, ‘At the time when thou wast pressing the hand of desire in the bosom of union with that stranger. However, as I knew that necessity was the cause of it, I preserved thy credit, and did nothing to annoy him. And as I am aware of thy kind feelings towards me, and know the friendship thou entertainest for me; and am quite sure that thou art anxious for life only for communion with me, and wishest for sight only to gaze on my beauty; if thou art guilty of these immoralities, it must, of course, be from frailty. Wherefore I felt it incumbent on me to be indulgent to thy friend, and to preserve thy honor. Be of good cheer, and do not give way to alarm or fear, and emancipate thyself from thy terrors, and pardon me for thinking ill of thee, and for entertaining a hundred kinds of bad suspicions of thee. Praise be to God! thou hast not turned out to be what I supposed thee.
The wife made use of deceitful words; and both sides, forgetting their anger, placed the arms of reconciliation round the neck of satisfaction; and the Carpenter, loosing the tongue of apology, was expressing this sentiment.
And I have introduced this story, that you too, like the carpenter, who was cajoled by the words of a profligate woman, may not be deceived by the talk of this deceitful crow, nor seduced by his hypocrisy and artifices, which smell of blood.
And every enemy who, by means of his distant position, cannot make an assault, advances closer by stratagem; and assuming the part of an adviser, brings himself, by hypocrisy and fawning, into the situation of confidential intercourse. As soon as he has learned the secrets [of his dupe] he looks out for an opportunity, and, with perfect insight, commences his undertaking; and not a blow that he strikes, but like the fire-raining thunderbolt, consumes the fire of life; and, like the arrow of fate, unerringly reaches the target of his wish and the mark of his desire.’ The crow (Kárshinás) said, ‘O cruel friend! what is the use of all this eloquence? and what results from this useless preamble which thou art linking together? After all, what connection has this cruelty, which has been practised upon me, and this tyranny which has befallen me, with deceit and stratagem? No sensible person is willing to suffer pain himself to give comfort to another, nor have I voluntarily taken upon myself this disgrace and suffering. And every one knows that these tortures were nothing but the requital of my opposition to the crows.’ The vazír said, ‘This thing that thou hast done is the spring of thy deceit, and thou hast willingly, nay, greedily, submitted to these sufferings; and the sweetuess of revenge which thou hast in mind has made the bitter draught of this pain pleasant to the palate of thy hope; and there have been many who have been willing to die in order to destroy their enemy, and who, to do their patrons and benefactors a service, have cast themselves into the vortex of annihilation, to leave inscribed on the page of their life the character of gratitude and loyalty. So that Monkey gave himself up to be killed, in order that he might avenge his friends.’ The king of the owls asked, ‘How was that?’
He said, ‘They have related that a troop of monkeys had their abode in an island where were fruits fresh and dry in abundance, and the climate agreed with them perfectly. One day a party of the elders of the tribe were sitting under the shade of a tree, and were talking on all sorts of subjects. At one time, with laughing lip like a pistachio, they discoursed of the impervious nut, and at another they would not open their eyes, which resembled fresh almonds, save to gaze on the beauty of the dry fig. On a sudden, a bear passed by them, and was excessively chagrined at their composure. He said to himself, ‘Is it to be borne that I should pass my time in the midst of stony mountains, with saddened heart; and with a hundred thousand efforts get possession of a thorn-top or a root of grass, while these monkeys in this pleasant spot and agreeable station, feast on fresh and juicy fruits and make their repasts on herbage softer than green silk.
He then resolved to enter among that crowd and overthrow with the axe of cruelty, the pedestal of their tranquillity. The monkeys, accepting battle, assembled to the number of nearly a thousand, and making a rush, overthrew345 and wounded the bear with their blows. The unhappy bear of vain schemes, had not as yet tasted the fruit of his wishes from the plant of desire, when he found the tree of his enjoyment withered, and the cell of his nature not being illuminated by the radiance of the taper of repose, the lamp of his strength went out.
In short, the bear escaped with the greatest trouble from among the monkeys, and having conveyed himself to the mountains, raised loud cries and a vast uproar. A great number of his species came round him, and seeing him in that state, asked him as to the circumstances of the battle and the manner of the contumely and blows inflicted on him. The bear recounted the affair as it had happened, and said, ‘Bravo, dishonor! that a powerful-framed bear should endure this disgrace from feeble monkeys! never in by-gone days did such a thing befall our ancestors and progenitors, and until the day of resurrection, this infamy will adhere to our race. Our advisable course is that we should join together, and by one united night-attack, change the day of existence for them into the night of extinction, and blind the eye of their hopes with the dust of battle.
The bears’ feeling of pride was roused, and kindling the flame of implacability, and loosing the tongue of boasting and vain-glory, they raised to heaven their fierce and martial shouts.
They then agreed that that night they would engage in kindling the flames of slaughter, and in the heat of battle and the fire of war, would cast an igneous shower into the harvest of the life of the monkeys; and at the time when the golden-clawed lion of the sun turned from the waste of heaven to that place of fountains [as it is written] ‘in a spring of black mud,346a and the Greater and Lesser Bear began to stalk towards the confines of the Northern Pole,
at once, the bears of that mountainous region set out for the island of the monkeys. It happened that the monkey-king with a number of his nobles and grandees, had made a party to hunt, and that night they remained in the waste, and the other monkeys, unprepared for the attack of their foes, were reposing each in his own place, when all at once,
Before the monkeys were aware, many of them were slain, and a few, crushed and wounded, escaped with life from that sanguinary struggle. When the bears saw that flourishing plain and populous island cleared of the enemy, they drew the foot of continuance under the skirt of residence in that very place, and made the bear that had been maltreated and injured, their commander; and stretching forth the hand of tyranny, they brought within the range of their own possession, every good thing which the monkeys in the lapse of time had stored up for themselves.
The next day, when the dark-hearted world became brilliant as the cheek of the beautiful, and the Jamshíd of the sun came forth upon the throne of the sky,
the king of the monkeys, unaware of what had happened, was returning to the island, and in the middle of his journey a number of fugitives who had brought themselves semi-animate from the whirlpool of calamity to the shore, came up, and began to call for redress. The king, when he had been informed of the nature of those events, began to bite the finger of amazement with the tooth of regret, and said, ‘Alas! for my hereditary kingdom, which has been torn from the grasp of my possession, and alack! for those rich treasures which have fallen into the hands of the enemy. At last, fortune has changed, and has rained down the dirt of adversity on my head, and, at length, she, fickle that she is, has averted her countenance.
The others, too, who attended in the cavalcade of the king, beginning to be disquieted, raised lamentations each for his own property and possessions, and wife, and family, and among them was one named Maimún,348 adorned with an excellent understanding, and distinguished from the rest by the abundance of his sagacity; and on this account they used to hold him in supreme honor, and king and people were in the habit of availing themselves of the benefits of his advice.
When Maimún beheld the king amazed and his subjects distressed, he loosed the tongue of advice and said,
To be stiff-necked in misfortunes excludes a creature from the rewards of eternity, and makes him notorious for impatience and levity, and in occurrences of this nature, there are but two things of any avail. The first is, to endure and to increase in patience and fortitude; for the tree of patience produces the fruit of desire, and in accordance with the saying, ‘Patience is the key of joy,’ to make choice of patience is the key of the portals of salvation.
The second is to make use of just judgment and right counsel; for when the lightning of the bright mind of the possessor of sagacity flashes in the night of incident, it can completely efface the darkness of cruelty from the page of the condition of the tyrannously oppressed; and in one night of thought accomplish things which have occupied a thousand years.
The king of the monkeys was comforted by the words of Maimún, and asked ‘How can this be remedied?’ Maimún requested a private audience and said, ‘O renowned king! my children and kinsmen have perished by the hands of this remorseless band; and, deprived of the sight of these dear ones life will afford me no delight, and existence no happiness.
And since in the end the goods of life must fall into the whirlpool of annihilation, I desire with all possible speed to transport myself from the narrow strait of worldly things to the expanse of the blissful regions of eternity; and, sacrificing my life, to avenge my friends and beloved ones on those blind and savage monsters.’ The King said, ‘O Maimún! the flavor of revenge appears sweet to the palate of existence, and the relish of triumphing over one’s enemy is necessary for the repose of life, but if thou art no more, [I care not] whether the world be populated or desolate. And wherever the heart is set, it matters not whether the place be tranquil or disturbed.
Maimún replied, ‘O king! in my present circumstances the preference may be given to death over life, and one might choose to perish rather than exist. For the light of the eyes is in gazing on the beauty of one’s children, and they have drawn over their countenances the veil of the earth; and the joy of the bosom is bound up in beholding one’s domestics and kinsfolk, and the harvest of their peace has been dispersed by the tempest of fate; and the chief pillar of one’s maintenance is wealth and property, and the hoardings of one’s whole life have been dissipated by the plundering of the enemy. I now wish to show my gratitude for the favors of the king, and to aid, with the ointment of cheerfulness, my brethren, whose hearts are sorrowful and whose minds are wounded; and having offered up the coin of life, to leave my name on the page of Time.
And the king must not mourn for my death, and when he sits with his friends at the mirthful banquet let him call to mind my faithful service.
The king said, ‘How wilt thou prosecute this undertaking, and by which of the doors of stratagem will thou enter upon it?’ Maimún answered, ‘I have thought of a plan by which I may consume them with the flame of the Samúm350 in the deserts of Mard-ázmáí;350a and it is most probably to be expected that my prognostications will not deviate from the line of truth. The advisable course is, that thou command them to tear out my ears with their teeth, and fracture my hands and feet, and cast me at night in a corner of that waste which was our former abode. And let the king, with his attendants and the party of fugitives, wander at will through all parts and directions of this desert until two days have passed, and on the morning of the third day let them come and settle, free from care, in their own home. For there will be no trace of their enemies, nor afterwards will any injury accrue from that race.’ The king, in accordance with the wishes of Maimún, commanded them to tear out his ears, and, after breaking his limbs, to cast him in a corner of that region. He then dispersed his forces, and sate awaiting the appointed time. Maimún, through the whole night, uttered plaintive wailings after a fashion that would have dissolved, in sympathy, a heart of stone. The mountains re-echoed the piteous sound of his cries; and the king of the bears going out for a circuit early in the morning, heard those lamentations; and following the sound, beheld Maimún in that plight. Although he was hard-hearted, he had compassion upon him, and in spite of his ferocity, pity arose in his heart. Busying himself with inquiry into his circumstances, and examining into his condition, he demanded of him a detailed explanation of what had happened. Maimún sagaciously discerned that he was the king of that race, and entered upon eulogiums of him; and after acquitting himself of the usual duties of panegyric, which is due to the position of kings, he said,
O king! I am the vazír of the monkey-king, and went out with him to hunt. On the night of the attack I was not present in the field of battle. The next day the fugitives reached us, and I received intelligence of the descent of your majesty in this place. The king of the monkeys, from the confidence which he had in my judgment, required of me an expedient to remedy this. I, from sincere regard to him, pointed out the service of your majesty, and said, ‘The recommendable course is, that we gird up the waist of attendance, and pass the rest of our lives in waiting on the king; and, under the shade of his good-fortune, in security from the reverses of fate, content ourselves with a corner and a crust.
The king was displeased at my words, and vented many unseemly reproaches on the parties who had become occupants of this region; and when a second time I rebuked him, he commanded that they should inflict all this contumely upon me; and he gave orders, saying, ‘Since he is one of the fautors of that monarch, and belongs to his army, the best thing is to cast him down near the island, so that I may see how they will protect him.’ Thus they brought me hither, and requited my former loyal services with these subsequent distresses.’ He said this, and wept so piteously that the tear-drops began to fall from the pitiless eyes of the king of the bears.
The king said, ‘Where are the monkeys now?’ He replied, ‘There is a forest, which they call Mard-ázmáí, where they have taken refuge, and are collecting forces from all sides, and every hour they may be expected to come with a fierce and numerous army to make a night-attack.’ The king of the bears started and said, ‘O Maimún! what is thy advice? and Heaven forfend! that a calamity fall upon us from them.’ Maimún replied, ‘Let the king be tranquil as to this, and had I but feet, I would conduct a force unexpectedly against them, and bring destruction on those perfidious ingrates.’ The king replied, ‘I know that thou hast complete acquaintance with their position, and if thou canst conduct us to them, thou wilt cast a chain of obligation on the neck of the condition of this people; and inasmuch, too, as they have wronged thee, thou wilt obtain thy own wish of revenge.’ Maimún said, ‘How can I do it? for it is impossible for me to go, and for me to move with such hands and feet presents insuperable difficulties.’ The king replied, ‘I know an expedient for this, and can convey thee by a contrivance.’ He then called aloud, so that the leaders of his army and the courtiers presented themselves; and having stated to them how matters stood, he said, ‘Be ready, for to-night we will march against the enemy.’ All agreed in this plan, and made ready the weapons of war, and, having tied Maimún on the back of a bear, they set off. Maimún guided them by signs, until they arrived at the waste Mard-ázmáí, which was a desert full of fierce heat and devoid of water, such that the spring-cloud was burnt up, in its expanse, from excess of heat; and the swift messenger of the moon, from the dread nature of that waste, lost its way in the heaven; and the world-measuring intellect was unable to emerge from its difficulties, and the creation-circling imagination knew not the way forth from its stages. A Samúm used to blow in that waste, such that every one who was reached by its effects, melted away; and it made the sand and soil burn like the furnace of iron-smiths; and on account of this fiery wind, no living thing abode in that desert, and no herbage sprang up in that salt and man-devouring wilderness.
Maimún said, ‘Make haste; and, before the white dawn lifts away the veil from the face of the transactions of the world, let us tear away the curtain of their tranquillity from the area of enjoyment; and, ere the king of the Turkish vestment352 can lift up his gold-embroidered flag, let us subvert the banner of the puissance of those wretches forsaken by fortune.’ The bears, with the utmost alacrity, pressed on into that waste, and with their own feet entered into the plain of death and space of destruction. The sun rose, and no trace of the monkeys was to be found; and Maimún still urged them on with speed, and with plausible inventions beguiled them, until the time when the sun rose high, and, with the warmth of his rays, lit up the quarters and districts of that region. The flame of his taper was then kindled to that degree, that whoever looked into the air was consumed like a moth, and whoever set foot on earth was melted like wax.
The rays of the sun, exerting their influence, smote the bears with destruction, and the fiery Samúm, beginning to blow, appeared like a smokeless flame. Then the king of the bears turned to Maimún [and said], ‘Here is a desert such that our hearts are consumed with the dread of it, and our livers are dried up; and what is this which, like a flame of fire, comes, fierce and hot, towards us?’ Maimún replied, ‘O cruel tyrant! this is the wilderness of death, and that which comes towards thee is the messenger of fate. Be at ease, for didst thou possess a hundred thousand lives, thou wouldst not save one. And now, soon as the Samúm reaches you, it will consume all to ashes, and thou wilt be burned in the fire of that injustice which thou didst inflict on the persons of the monkeys.’ They were talking thus, when the flame of the Samúm reached them, and consumed on the spot Maimún, together with all the retinue and soldiers of the bear-king, and not one of them emerged from that wilderness. On the third day, as had been agreed upon, the king of the monkeys, together with his army, came to the island, and found the region unoccupied, and beheld his dominions cleared of the gloomy presence of his foes.
And I have adduced this story in order that the king may understand that resentful persons, for the sake of vengeance, will relinquish their own lives, and, to gratify their friends, attach no weight to the sacrifice. And I understand the baseness of Kárshinás from his deceitful speeches, and I know the whole train of the story which has been related.353 And I have had experience of the crows before, and know the extent of their foresight and sagacity, and the greatness of their deceit and artfulness; and as soon as I beheld Kárshinás in this state, I felt convinced that their cleverness and prudence were allied to some useful end, and that their wisdom and penetration is beyond what were supposed.
The advisable course is, that before he can give us supper we should supply him with breakfast; and ere he can spill our blood, we should give the signal for his execution.’ When the king of the owls heard this speech he frowned and said, ‘What harshness and merciless procedure is this! that when a poor wretch has undergone a variety of sufferings and torments from his attachment to us, we should stand forth as his tormentors and destroyers, and melt again in the crucible of trial one who has already been wofully stricken. But, perhaps, thou hast not heard that they have said,
He then commanded, and they took Kárshinás with the utmost reverence respect, and bore him along with the owl-king. The vazír said, ‘O king! since thou hast not heeded my counsel, and hast averted the face of acceptance from my directions, which were essentially wise and purely beneficial; at least live with him as with thy foes, and be not off thy guard for the twinkling of an eye as to his artifices and treason. For his coming can have no other object save injury to the affairs of the owls and the promotion of the ends useful to the crows.’ The king refused to attend to this advice, and despised the words of that incomparable friend; and the Crow continued to live in his service with the utmost honor, and he omitted no particular of the homage due, nor of the respectful manners suited to the service of princes; and by conciliating each of the favorites and ministers of the king in some way or other, he attached them to himself. Hence his rank was each day advanced, and each day he made greater progress in the affections of the king and his subjects, until he became the depositary of the confidence, and the confidant of the secrets of the king. And when his thorough sincerity and complete probity had been noticed, he rose to be the State-referee and pivot of public affairs of that country. And in commencing affairs of importance, they used to consult with him, and they formed all sorts of schemes according to his opinion and counsel. One day, in the public assembly and general meeting, he said to high and low, ‘The king of the crows has causelessly injured me, and tortured me, though I am innocent. Until, then, I wreak my vengeance on him, and get the better of him like a man, how can I find rest or repose? and how relish sleep or food? And I have reflected long, and spent much time in meditating and considering how to obtain this object and compass this end. At last I have come to the firm conclusion that so long as I am in the guise of a crow, and retain their appearance, I cannot arrive at this my wish, nor attain my object. And I have heard from the wise, that when an oppressed and unfortunate person has suffered wrong from an unjust oppressor, and met with persecution from a haughty tyrant, and seeks death and consumes himself with fire, every prayer that he utters in that state meets with acceptance. If the king’s wisdom thinks it right, let him command them to burn me. Perhaps, at the moment when the heat reaches me, if I pray to God (may His name be magnified!) to make me an owl, I may, by that means get the advantage over the tyrant, and wreak my vengeance on him?’ Now, the owl that had been so urgent for the laceration of Kárshinás was present in that assembly, and said,
The king asked, ‘What sayest thou to this speech?’ The vazír replied, ‘This again is another artifice which is put forth, and a pretence colored with hypocrisy.
And should they burn again and again his foul person and impure body, and moisten355 the ashes with the water of the fountain of Salsabíl and the wine of purification, his unclean nature and base qualities would not be altered; and the malignity of his mind and obliquity of his moral principles cannot be cleansed by water or burnt out with fire.
And if (this impossible supposition being admitted), his impure person should put on the appearance of the peacock; or, for example, his unclean limbs should be arrayed in the garments of the Símurgh, he would remain just as before, attached to the society of the crows, and friendly with them. Like that Mouse, which, although it had obtained a human form, relapsed into the inclinations suited to its former state, and did not attach itself to the world-illuminating sun, and the bounteous cloud, and the exhilarating breeze, and the firm mountain.’ The king asked, ‘How was that?’
This chapter corresponds to the Third Book of the Hitopadesha, the Vigraha, where the story, however, is very differently told.
↩On this sidratu ’l-muntahạ, Lote-tree of Paradise, sits Gabriel perched. It is called al-muntahạ as being on the verge of Eden.
↩After much consideration of this difficult couplet I can make no other sense of it but what I have given. The roots were too deep and the branches too lofty for anything but the intellect to discover their whereabouts. Such an idea strictly accords with Persian taste.
↩Damár az rúzgár bar ávardan is a common phrase, but it is difficult to explain it. Literally it is ‘to bring out perdition from the life of any one.’
↩Ḳur’án, Fl. ii. 187; Mar. ii. 192; Sale, p. 21, 1. 4: ‘Therefore enter your houses by their doors; and fear God, that you may be happy. And fight for the religion of God against those who fight against you; but transgress not by attacking them first, for God loveth not the transgressors. And kill them wherever ye find them, and turn them out of that whereof they have dispossessed you; for temptation to idolatry is more grievous than slaughter: yet fight not against them in the holy temple, until they attack you therein; but if they attack you, slay them there. This shall be the reward of the infidels.’
↩Lit., ‘a lancet.’
↩I give this translation because of the equivocal meanings of nang and zabún, though it is more likely that the real signification is, ‘We shall ourselves shew the way to our dishonor, inasmuch as before the weak we shall play the recreant.’
↩The word áb signifies also ‘the lustre of steel,’ ‘the water of a sword.’ Hence its use here, when associated with the epithet ‘fire-dropping,’ it is exactly suited to the Persian taste, which is the farthest possible removed from that of Helicon.
↩It will be seen that all the terms that follow are taken from the game of backgammon.
↩It will be seen that all the terms that follow are taken from the game of backgammon.
↩It will be seen that all the terms that follow are taken from the game of backgammon.
↩It will be seen that all the terms that follow are taken from the game of backgammon.
↩Chess, dice, etc., are played by the Orientals on a carpet as by us on a board.
↩It will be seen that all the terms that follow are taken from the game of backgammon.
↩Lit., ‘thou mayst break an army’s back.’
↩Ráy signifies ‘the kindling of fire by the stick zand,’ as well as ‘wisdom,’ hence an equivoque here, no trace of which can be preserved in the translation.
↩Sirr signifies ‘a secret,’ and sar ‘the head.’ Hence arises an equivoque in the original unretainable in English.
↩He made the world so safe that there was no need to bare the sword. Sighs are said to be the arrows of the oppressed, and his justice was such that those who suffered, forgot to discharge them saḥar-gáh, ‘at dawn,’ that is, ‘at morning-prayer,’ which two words I have omitted.
↩A MS. in my possession has the infinitely better reading of pardah-i ’usmat ‘in the curtain of chastity,’ for the pardah-i ’ishrat of the editions, which should decidedly be expunged.
↩The band is here ‘a throw in wrestling.’
↩Or it may be kushí ‘slaying.’
↩A MS. in my possession reads dard parwarad ú muḥabbat-í yár bar na táft, which I prefer to that of the editions, of which I find it difficult to make sense.
↩Dam means both the ‘light brecze’ which arises at morn, and also the ‘breath of detraction.’ Sunrise is compared to a golden basin falling from a terrace. I shall be glad if any critic will throw more light on this strange expression.
↩I confess I should have preferred ník námí here, as it would have corresponded better than bad námí to námús; and besides, to rend the curtain of dishonor seems to give a false idea.
↩Lit.: ‘a whiff.’
↩Ḳur’án, Fl. iii. 153; Mar. iii. 160; Sale, p. 50, 1. 16: ‘Therefore forgive them and ask pardon for them: and consult them in the affair of war; and, after thou hast deliberated, trust in God; for God loveth those who trust in Him.’
↩Lit.: ‘Thou dischargest not the duties of the law, nor givest to reason its just claims.’
↩Ján is the name of a Pre-adamite race, according to Muslim tradition.
↩’Uḳáb is ‘an eagle,’ ’aḳabát ‘mountain-summits,’ whence arises a play on words by the figure called Tajnís, of which Orientals are passionately fond, and of which so many examples have already been cited.
↩The common meaning of bá wujúd ‘notwithstanding,’ will hardly apply here, for there is no reason why ugly men should not be foolish as well as hidcous. I have therefore taken the first original meaning of the words, ‘with the existence of’ ‘co-existent with,’ or ‘together with.’
↩Ḳur’an, Fl. lxxviii. 10; Mar. lxxviii. 11; Sale, p. 433, 1. 7: ‘Have we not made the earth for a bed, and the mountains for stakes to fix the same? And have we not created you of two sexes; and appointed your sleep for rest; and made the night a garment to cover you; and destined the day to the gaining your livelihood; and built over you seven solid heavens: and placed therein a burning lamp?’
↩An excellent MS. in my possession reads bih parwánah ‘by the decree’; which is infinitely preferable to the unmeaning píráyah-í of the editions, which is not only devoid of sense, but destroys the symmetry of the corresponding sentences.
↩Ḳur’án, ch. lxxviii., 12, as quoted in note 2, above.
↩The modern Burmah.
↩Chashmah ‘fountain,’ chashm ‘eye,’ the figure Tajnís again.
↩The words rendered ‘fountain of the moon,’ are Arabic, and the Persian translation of them, as will be seen, follows.
↩The figure Tajnís is here again employed; gúshmálí, lit. ‘rubbing of the ears,’ is followed by gúshah ‘corner:’ and málish ‘chastisement,’ by ma-ál ‘result.’
↩‘Fortunate day.’ To say that men relied on this hare seems absurd enough.
↩For tarjumán ‘interpreter,’ I would gladly read tarjumah ‘interpretation,’ did the MSS. allow it.
↩‘Alexander with the two horns,’ or the elder Alexander, of whom many fabulous stories are related by Orientals. The real Alexander is called in distinction, ‘Rúmí’ or ‘bin Filikús’ (son of Philip). The two horns are said to allude to the conquest of east and west; but, in my opinion, they owe their origin to a corruption of the tale of Alexander’s claiming descent from Jupiter Ammon, who appeared to him under the form of a ram. Horns in general are symbolical of strength, as in Daniel and the Psalms. For an account of this Alexander, see Sale, pp. 226, 227, and the note there marked ‘f.’
↩The maṭl’a is the beginning of a poem, the maḳṭ’a is the cæsura or pause in reading verses.
↩These words seem meaningless enough in English, and in Persian are only recommended by alliteration and similarity of sound.
↩Turá chih dárad is bad grammar, and, even in Persian, bad grammar is inadmissible. I was much pleased, therefore to find in a MS. I have recently purchased, falak chih dárad, for which the reading of the editions ought to make way.
↩Ḳur’án, xxix. 17; Sale, p. 298, l. 24: ‘If ye charge me with imposture, verily sundry nations before you likewise charged their prophets with imposture: but public preaching only is incumbent on an apostle.’ This sentence occurs in several other passages of the Ḳur’án, e.g. at ch. xxiv. 53. It will be seen that I have rendered the sentence more literally than Sale, as the context here requires, and as al-mubín is omitted in the present quotation.
↩Name of a very brilliant star.
↩‘Simáka’r-rámiḥ’ and ‘simáku’l-’ázal’ are the names of two stars called also ‘the feet of the lion.’ The former (‘simáka’r-rámiḥ’) is Arcturus, the latter (‘simáku’-l-’ázal’) is Spica Virginis; simák means ‘fish,’ rámiḥ means ‘armed with a spear,’ and ’ázal signifies ‘unarmed.’ Thus the name of Arcturus would be ‘The spear-armed fish.’ In speaking of the fountain (chashmah), therefore, there is that kind of equivoque in the name of Arcturus (viz., ‘the spear-armed fish’) which is so pleasing to Persian taste.
↩Ḳur’án, li., 47; Sale, p. 385, l. 9: ‘We have built the heaven with might: and we have given it a large extent: and we have stretched forth the earth beneath; and how evenly have we spread the same!’
↩Ḳur’án, li., 47; Sale, p. 385, l. 9: ‘We have built the heaven with might: and we have given it a large extent: and we have stretched forth the earth beneath; and how evenly have we spread the same!’
↩Youth is here compared to night, and old age to dawn, on account of the black locks of the young and the silver hair of the old. Otherwise, surely youth more resembles morning, and old age the declining day.
↩The literal translation of this feeble and obscure line is, ‘Ignorant art thou, but the light of the religious party.’
↩Ḳur’án, Fl. xvii. 83, Mar. 82; Sale, p. 216, l. 16: ‘And say, O Lord! cause me to enter with a favorable entry; and cause me to come forth with a favourable coming forth; and grant me from Thee an assisting power. And say, truth is come, and falsehood is vanished: for falsehood is of short continuance.’ Sale’s note on this passage is, ‘These words Muḥammad repeated when he entered the temple of Mecca, after the taking of that city, and cleansed it of the idols.’
↩That is: ‘If thou weariest thy steed to-day, how shalt thou escape my lasso to-morrow?’
↩My best MS. reads sál for ḳarn. As the reading stands in the edition the literal rendering is, ‘If I should praise for a hundred thousand centuries, without doubt, of a hundred thousand, only one would be mentioned.’
↩That is, ‘in propriû personû.’
↩There is a clever equivoque in the original here which cannot be preserved in English; gúyá bashar is ‘man has the power of speech,’ and the next line, gúyá basharr, is ‘speaking wickedly.’
↩I prefer the reading bárah-i, ‘for a time,’ which I find in one MS. to that of the editions párah-i, of which I cannot make any sense.
↩Lit. ‘having two steeds.’
↩I know nothing of this country. As gurgán signifies ‘wolves,’ and the story is about stealing a sheep it is, probably, a name given merely on that account.
↩Or ‘goat.’ In the Sanskrit original (the Hitopadesha) it is a goat that is purchased. But at the ’Id it is proper that a ram should be sacrificed, since a ram was the substitute brought by Gabriel for Ishmael.
↩Here is a play on words: kamar is ‘loins,’ and makar ‘deceit.’
↩Here is a play on words: kamar is ‘loins,’ and makar ‘deceit.’
↩That is, ‘in a state of carelessness.’ Hares are said to sleep with their eyes open. So the careless man is asleep, though his eyes be not shut.
↩Lit., ‘In the same arrangement uttered a letter.’
↩Naḳl is here used for its similarity of sound to ’aḳl. It means ‘tradition.’
↩That is, Zanzibar in Africa. Darkness is here compared to the sable sons of Abyssinia, and the day to the fair-faced Tátárs.
↩Night is compared to ambergris as being of an ash colour. Amber, on the contrary, is yellow and semi-pellucid.
↩Observe the idiom, az án-i pidar.
↩These lines are quoted from the 3rd Ode of Háfiz, p. 34, where for talaṭṭuf the lithographed edition reads muruwat, which is preferable, if only for the alliteration.
↩’Aḳídah does not seem to give a very good sense here. I should prefer ’aḳírah ‘wounded, maimed person,’ did the MSS. allow it.
↩I am ignorant of what is intended by the zágh-i gulkhan, ‘the crow of the stove,’ unless it be a tame crow or jackdaw kept near the fireside; or some noisy apparatus so called.
↩Lit., ‘with a hundred thousand hearts.’
↩In these four lines are, as usual, several untranslateable equivoques. Thus, in the third line, tígh is ‘a sword,’ and also ‘a sunbeam,’ answering to khúr, ‘the sun:’ and zard kunad is ‘to make yellow’; answering to zar, ‘gold.’
↩The printed edition here should read gáomísh for gáo, as is shown by what precedes, and by the reading of the best MSS.
↩ In the printed edition, for
The printed edition here should read gáomísh for gáo, as is shown by what precedes, and by the reading of the best MSS.
↩The printed edition here should read gáomísh for gáo, as is shown by what precedes, and by the reading of the best MSS.
↩The printed edition here should read gáomísh for gáo, as is shown by what precedes, and by the reading of the best MSS.
↩I follow a MS. in reading ṭíráz for the ṭarár and ṭarrár of the editions.
↩This is the 7th story in the 3rd book of the Hitopadesha.
↩The printed edition reads ilḥáḥ burd va dast girift, ‘importuned and took her hand.’ The lithographed edition has ilḥáḥ burd va dast-i zan girift, ‘importuned and took the woman’s hand;’ and the best MS. I have reads ilḥaḥ bar dast girift, ‘took in hand,’ or ‘commenced importuning her,’ which I much prefer.’
↩The MSS. supply the va between paráganda and majrúḥ, which the editions wrongly omit.
↩The printed edition has here by a typographical error—kamín for kín.
↩Ḳu’rán, Fl. xviii., 84; Mar. 87; Sale, p. 227, 1. 4: ‘And he (Dhu’l-karnein) followed his way, until he came to the place where the sun setteth; and he found it to set in a spring of black mud: and he found near the same a certain people.’
↩Durusht, lit., ‘rough,’ i.e., hard to be walked over, on account of the darkness.
↩That is, ‘one hoards, another spends.’
↩That is, ‘renounced allegiance to it.’
↩The Dictionary informs us this word, in Persian, means ‘monkey,’ in Arabic ‘fortunate.’
↩Saturn: and in the next line ’Aṭárid is Mercury.
↩Saturn: and in the next line ’Aṭárid is Mercury.
↩In the English dictionary ‘Simoom;’ but the first vowel should be a, according to the Arabic.
↩Lit., ‘man-trying;’ i.e., ‘perilous.’
↩That is, ‘in woe.’
↩The river Jaxartes.
↩A title of the sun.
↩For ḥílah mí shinásam my best MS. reads jumlah mi shinásam. The sentence is obscure, but probably means that he recognises in the story he has just told a parallel case to that of Kárshinás.
↩My best MS. reads ḥall sázand, ‘should loosen or moisten.’ The editions read gil sázand, ‘should make clay.’
↩