A Group of Eastern Romances - A Group of Eastern Romances and Stories

THE latter part of this story will at once remind the reader of the tale of Alí Khoja and the Merchant of Baghdád in our common English version of the Arabian Nights,⁵⁵⁶ in which Alí Khoja, before setting out on the pilgrimage to Makka, places a thousand gold pieces in a jar and fills it up with olives, and gives it into the custody of a merchant with whom he was intimate, as a jar of olives merely; and the merchant after the Khoja had prolonged his absence far beyond the usual time opened the jar to take out of it some olives for his wife, who had wished for that fruit, and finding the gold underneath abstracted it, and substituted fresh olives. The story is too well known to require the repetition of the subsequent details—how judgment was at first given in favour of the merchant, but was afterwards reversed, as in our story of the Kází, by the acuteness of a boy.

It seems to have been a favourite pastime from ancient times for Asiatic youngsters to play at “the King and his Ministers.” In the apocryphal Arabic gospel of the Saviour's Infancy we read: “In the month of Adar, Jesus, after the manner of a king, assembled the boys together. They spread their clothes on the ground and he sat down on them. Then they put on his head a crown made of flowers, and like chamber-servants stood in his presence, on the right and on the left, as if he was a king, and whoever passed that way was forcibly dragged by the boys, saying: ‘Come hither and adore the king; and then go away.’” This passage finds a very remarkable parallel in the Mongolian tales of Ardshi Bordshi—the second part of Miss Busk's Sagas from the Far East, derived from Jülg's Mongolische Märchen, as follows: “In the neighbourhood of his [i. e. Ardshi Bordshi's] residence was a hill where the boys who were tending the calves were wont to pass the time by running up and down. But they had also another custom, and it was that whichever of them won the race was king for the day—an ordinary game enough, only that when it was played in this place the boy-king thus constituted was at once endowed with such extraordinary importance and majesty that every one was constrained to treat him as a real king. He had not only ministers and dignitaries among his play-fellows, who prostrated themselves before him, and fulfilled all his behests, but whoever passed that way could not choose but pay him homage also.”

The Rev. J. Hinton Knowles, in a note to his Folk-Tales of Kashmír, thus describes the game of “Vazír Pádisháh,” also called “Suhul,” as it is played by the boys in Kashmír:

“It is generally played by four youngsters. Four little sticks are provided, of which the bark on one side is peeled off. Any of the four children throws first. If one should throw three sticks so that they all fall on the bark side, then he is appointed pádisháh, or king; but if not, they all try and throw till some one succeeds. The next thing is to find out the vazír. He who throws the sticks so that one of them falls with the bark side up, but the other three with the peeled sides up, is appointed to this office. Then an asúr, or thief, has to be fixed upon. He who throws so that two of his sticks fall with the bark side upwards is proclaimed the thief. Lastly a sayd, or honest man, has to be found. This part he has to play who throws the sticks so that three of them fall with the bark side upwards. If it should happen that all four of them fall with the bark sides up, that thrower has to try again.⁵⁵⁷

“Pádisháh, vazír, asúr, and sayd being known, the real play begins. The asúr, or thief, is brought before the king by the vazír, who says: ‘O king, peace and health to you; here is a thief.’ The king replies: ‘Whence has he come?’ Then the vazír tells him the whole case, and punishment has to be inflicted on the criminal. This is the most amusing part of the whole play. ‘Give him Bangálí cannon,’ says the king, and the vazír kicks the prisoner's buttocks; or the king says: ‘Bring a dog in his place from the Ladák,’ when the vazír takes the prisoner a short distance, and then holding him by the ear pulls him back, while the prisoner barks like a dog; or the king says: ‘Take out the spindle,’ when the vazír draws a line with his thumb-nail on the inside of the arm from the elbow-joint to the wrist, and then hits the arm over the line as hard as he can with the first and second fingers of his right hand. There are many other words of punishment too numerous to mention here.”

Not a few Eastern stories turn upon the wonderful acuteness of boys in solving difficult questions which have perplexed the profound minds of their “grave and reverend” seniors. The reader will find a number of examples cited in my Popular Tales and Fictions, vol. ii, pp. 10, 12-14, one of which, a Mongolian tale, is analogous to that of the Arabian story of Alí Khoja's “pot of olives.”

THE indirect source of this story is probably the following tale, from the Kathá Sarit Ságara, vol. i, p. 298, of Prof. C. H. Tawney's translation, published at Calcutta a few years ago:

There is a city named Srávastí, and in it there lived in old time a king of the name of Prasenajit, and one day a strange Bráhman arrived in that city. A merchant, thinking he was virtuous because he lived on rice in the husk, provided him a lodging there in the house of a Bráhman. There he was loaded by him every day with presents of unhusked rice and other gifts, and gradually by other great merchants also, who came to hear his story. In this way the miserly fellow gradually accumulated a thousand dínars, and going to the forest he dug a hole and buried it in the ground, and he went every day and examined the spot. Now one day he saw that the hole in which he had hidden his gold had been re-opened, and that all the gold was gone. When he saw that hole empty, his soul was smitten, and not only was there a void in his heart, but the whole universe seemed to be a void also. And then he came crying to the Bráhman in whose house he lived, and when questioned he told him his whole story; and he made up his mind to go to a holy bathing-place and starve himself to death. Then the merchant who supplied him with food, hearing of it, came there with others, and said to him: “Bráhman, why do you long to die for the loss of your wealth? Wealth, like an unseasonable cloud, suddenly comes and goes.” Though plied by him with these and similar arguments, he would not abandon his fixed determination to commit suicide, for wealth is dearer to the miser than life itself. But when the Bráhman was going to the holy place to commit suicide, the king Prasenajit himself, having heard of it, came and asked him: “Bráhman, do you know of any mark by which you can recognise the place where you buried your dínars?” When the Bráhman heard that, he said: “There is a small tree in the wood there; I buried that wealth at its foot.” When the king heard that he said: “I will find the wealth and give it back to you, or I will give it you from my own treasury; do not commit suicide, Bráhman.” After saying that, and so diverting the Bráhman from his intention of committing suicide, the king entrusted him to the care of the merchant, and retired to his palace. There he pretended to have a headache, and sending out the doorkeeper he summoned all the physicians in the city by proclamation with beat of drum. And he took aside every single one of them and questioned him privately in the following words: “What patients have you here, and how many, and what medicines have you prescribed for each?” And they thereupon, one by one, answered all the king's questions. Then one among the physicians, when his turn came to be questioned, said this: “The merchant Mátridatta has been out of sorts, O king, and this is the second day that I have prescribed for him nágabalá” [the plant Uraria Lagopodioides]. When the king heard that he sent for the merchant and said to him: “Tell me who fetched you the nágabalá?” The merchant said: “My servant, your highness.” When the king got this answer from the merchant he quickly summoned the servant and said to him: “Give up that treasure belonging to a Bráhman, consisting of a store of dínars, which you found when you were digging at the foot of a tree for nágabalá.” When the king said this to him the servant was frightened, and confessed immediately; and bringing those dínars, left them there. So the king for his part summoned the Bráhman, and gave him, who had been fasting in the meanwhile, his dínars, lost and found again, like a second soul external to his body. Thus the king by his wisdom recovered to the Bráhman his wealth, which had been taken away from the tree, knowing that that simple grew in such spots.

Many stories of hidden treasure being stolen and recovered by a clever device are current in Europe as well as in the East. For example, in No. 74 of the Cento Novelle Antiche, the oldest Italian collection of tales, a blind beggar conceals 100 florins under the floor of a church, and is observed by a sharper who next day takes the money away. When the blind man finds his treasure gone, he stands at the church-door at the time of service and bids his boy watch all who enter the church and let him know if any one should regard him (the beggar) as if with peculiar interest. The sharp-witted boy observes a man looking at his father and smiling, and when the beggar learns the name of the man, he scrapes acquaintance with him, tells him that he has 100 florins concealed under the floor of the church, and expects to receive 100 more in the course of a day or two, which he had lent out; and begs his new friend to meet him on such a day when they would lift the stone and deposit the additional money. The sharper, thinking to get this other sum as well, went privily and replaced the 100 florins he had stolen, and the blind man, anticipating he would do so, returned at night and took away his money, resolving to part with it no more.—The same story is found in the Breslau printed Arabic text of the ‘Thousand and one Nights’, and is translated by Mr. John Payne in his Tales from the Arabic, and also by Sir Richard F. Burton in the first volume of his Supplemental Nights, under the title of “The Melancholist and the Sharper.” A short version is given in Gladwin's Persian Moonshee; and another analogous story of buried treasure will be found in Roscoe's Spanish Novelists, ed. 1832, vol. iii, p. 215–234, entitled “A Prodigious Adventure,” by Isidro de Robles.

READERS who are not familiar with the Kurán may like to see in English the Muslim “Lord's Prayer,” called Al-Fátihá, which the Deaf Man recited in presence of his sick friend, so this is it, from Rodwell's translation, p. 11:

“IN THE NAME OF GOD, THE COMPASSIONATE, THE MERCIFUL!
Praise be to God, Lord of the worlds!
The compassionate, the merciful!
King on the day of reckoning!
Thee [only] do we worship, and to thee do we cry for help.
Guide thou us on the straight path!
The path of those to whom thou hast been gracious; with whom thou art not angry, and who go not astray.”

This sura is esteemed as the quintessence of the Kurán, and is recited several times in the course of each of the five daily prayers, and on many other occasions.

It is well known that men afflicted with partial deafness are generally unwilling to acknowledge their infirmity, and even resent being talked to in a loud tone of voice; though they often betray themselves by the answers they give to questions asked of them, much to the amusement of their questioners.—A story is told of a deaf Persian who was taking home a quantity of wheat, and, coming to a river which he must cross, he saw a horseman approach; so he said to himself: “When that horseman comes up he will first salute me, saying, ‘Peace be with thee!’ Next he will ask, ‘What is the depth of this river?’ and then he will ask, how many máns of wheat I have with me.” But the deaf man's surmises were sadly amiss, for when the horseman came up he cried: “Ho! my man, what is the depth of this river?” The deaf one replied: “Peace be with thee, and the mercy of Allah and his blessing!” At this the horseman laughed and said: “May they cut off thy beard!” to which the deaf one rejoined: “Up to my neck.” The horseman then said: “Dust be on thy mouth!” The deaf one placidly replied: “Eighty máns of it.”

Here we have a very close parallel to the story of the Deaf Man and his Sick Friend, and there is a curious Norwegian variant in Sir George W. Dasent's Tales from the Fjeld, under the title of “Goodman Axeshaft,” which is to this purpose:

The wife and daughter of an old ferryman, who was extremely deaf, by their extravagance plunge him into an ocean of debt and run away from home. The sheriff is to come and seize, and the old man wonders what he'll say to him. “Ah, I'll begin to cut an axeshaft, and the sheriff will ask me how long it is to be. I'll answer, ‘Up as far as that twig sticks out.’ Then he'll ask, ‘What's become of the ferry boat?’ and I'll say, ‘I'm going to tar her, and yonder she lies on the strand, split at both ends.’ Then he'll ask, ‘Where's your gray mare?’ and I'll say, ‘She's standing in the stable, big with foal.’ And then he'll ask, ‘Whereabouts is your sheepcote?’ and I'll answer, ‘Not far off; when you get a bit up the hill you'll soon see it.’” But when the sheriff comes up he says “Good day” to the old man, who answers: “Axeshaft.” Then he asks: “How far off to the river?” to which the ferryman replies: “Up to this twig,” pointing a little way up the piece of timber. The sheriff stares and shakes his head. “Where's your wife?” “I'm just going to tar her,” and so forth. “Where's your daughter?” “In the stable,” and so on. “To the deuce with you!” exclaims the sheriff, in a rage. “Very good,” says the old man; “not far off—when you get a bit up the hill you'll soon see it.” Upon this the sheriff goes off, in sheer despair.

IN mediæval times the ancient fable of the Fowler and the Little Bird was appropriated by several monkish compilers of exempla, designed for the use of preachers; but this version is unique, so far as my knowledge of other forms of the fable extends. It has, exclusively, the scene between the lapwing and the nightingale; the references to the Muslim legend of Solomon's receiving from a lapwing, or hoopoe, intelligence of the city of Sabá (or Sheba) and Queen Bilkís; and the allegation of the nightingale to the gardener that the fruit the bird had destroyed was poisonous. The fable is found in the spiritual romance of Barlaam and Joasaph (not Josaphat, as the name is commonly written), which is said to have been composed in the first half of the 7th century, by a Greek monk named John, of the convent of St. Sabá, at Jerusalem, and—according to M. Hermann Zotenberg—redacted by Johannes Damascenus, a Greek Father, of the 8th century, and included in his works. It is now certain that the substance of this work was derived from Indian sources: the incidents in the youth of Joasaph correspond with those in the early years of Gautama, the founder of Buddhism; while some of the parables contained in the romance are found in the Játakas, or Buddhist Birth-stories and others in Hindú books. This is how the fable is told in Barlaam and Joasaph:

They who worship idols are like the bird-catcher who caught one of the smallest birds, which they call the nightingale. As he was about to kill and eat it, articulate speech was given to the bird, and it said: “What will the killing of me profit thee, man? Thou canst not fill thy belly with me. But if thou set me free, I will give thee three injunctions, which, if thou observe, will benefit thee all thy life.” He was amazed to hear the bird speak, and promised. Then said the nightingale: “Never try to reach the unattainable. Rue not a thing that is past. Never believe a thing that is beyond belief.” Away flies the bird; but, to test the man's common sense, it cries to him: “How thoughtless thou art! Inside of my body is a pearl larger than the egg of an ostrich, and thou hast not obtained it!” Then he repented having let the bird go free, and tried to coax it back by fair offers. But the bird rebuked his folly in so soon forgetting all the three injunctions it had given him.

In this form the fable also occurs in the Disciplina Clericalis of Petrus Alphonsus, a Spanish Jew, who was converted to Christianity in 1106, and who avowedly derived the materials for his work from the Arabian fabulists, and from this collection it was taken into the Gesta Romanorum (see Swan's translation, ed. 1824, vol. ii, p. 87). John Lydgate, the monk of Bury, of the 15th century, turned the fable into English verse, under the title of “The Chorle and the Bird, from a pamflete in Frenche,” which is conjectured to have been the fabliau “Le Lai de l'Oiselet,” but this I think is rather doubtful. According to Lydgate's poem, a little bird takes up its abode in a laurel-tree in a churl's garden, and sings merrily all the livelong day. The churl sets a trap (pantere) to catch the bird.

It was a verray hevenly melodye,
Evyne and morowe to here the bryddis songe,
And the soote sugred armonye
Of uncouthe varblys and tunys drawen on longe,
That al the gardeyne of the noysè rong,
Til on a morwe, whan Tytan shone ful clere,
The birdd was trapped and kaute with a pantere.

The churl puts the little bird into a fine cage and orders it to sing, but says the bird:

“Song and prison have noon accordaunce,
Trowest thou I wolle syng in prisoun?
Song procedethe of joy and of plesaunce,
And prison causethe dethe and destruccioun;
Rynging of fetires makethe ne mery sounde,
Or how shuld he be gladde or jocounde
Agayne his wylle, that ligthe in chaynès bounde?”

“But let me out,” the bird goes on to say, “so that I may perch again on the laurel-tree, and then I will sing to thee, and moreover,

“I shal the yeve a notable gret gwerdoun,
Thre grete wysdoms according to resoun,
More of walewe, take hede what I do profre,
Thane al the golde that is shet in thi cofre.”

The three “great wisdoms” are the same as those in other versions, and then the little bird says that the churl by setting him free has missed gaining a rare treasure, for in his inside is a stone, fully an ounce in weight, which has many wonderful properties: making its possessor victorious in battle; he should suffer no poverty or indigence but have abundance of wealth; all should do him reverence; it would reconcile foes, comfort the sorrowful, and make heavy hearts light.⁵⁶⁵ The churl is beside himself with vexation, and the bird calls him a fool for believing such a rank impossibility.^565a

Husain Vá'iz has re-told the apologue in his Anvár-i Suhaylí, or Lights of Canopus, a Persian rendering, in prose and verse, of the celebrated Fables of Bidpaï with additions, of which this is one. Here, however, the nightingale—having been entrapped by the gardener, because it destroyed his roses—does not, when liberated, give the gardener three maxims, but tells him that beneath such a tree is a vessel full of gold. The villager digs and finds the treasure, and then asks the bird how it was that he could see a vessel full of gold under the earth, yet not discover the snare above ground; to which the nightingale replies, like a good Muslim: “Hast thou not heard that ‘when Fate descends caution is in vain’?”⁵⁶⁶

The fabliau version, “Le Lai de l'Oiselet,” as found in Méon's edition of Barbazan's collection, Paris, 1808, t. iii, 114, and (in modern French prose) in Le Grand, ed. 1784, t. iii, 430, can hardly have been the original of Lydgate's poem, as may be seen from the following free rendering of Le Grand's abridgment (in which, however, he omits the bird's statement about the wonderful stone in its body), including a few lines from Way's agreeable English metrical translation:

Once on a time there was a noble castle surrounded by a wide domain of field and forest, which was first owned by a worthy knight. His son and successor wasted his patrimony in riotous living—“ye know well,” quoth our poet, “that it needs but one spendthrift heir to bring great wealth to nought”; and now the fair castle and domain had become the property of a rich but sordid churl. This lofty and strong castle had been reared by magic art. A pebble-paved stream flowed round a beauteous orchard, where grew tall and shapely trees, flowers of every hue, and odorous plants; and such was the fragrance of the air that it might have arrested a man's parting breath. In the midst of this fair scene a gushing fountain sparkled in the sunlight, while near it a lofty pine tree's deathless verdure afforded grateful shade at noontide.

A marvellous bird had fixed his abode in this tufted pine, and ever he sat and sang his lay of love in such sweet and moving strains that, matched against his magic melody, the music of viol and full-toned harp were as nought. Such was the power of this wondrous feathered minstrel that his strains could create unutterable joy in the heart of the despairing lover; and should they cease, and the songster take his flight from this enchanted ground, then would all the goodly scene—castle, trees, flowers, forest— fade away and forever disappear.

“Listen, listen, to my lay
(Thus the merry note did chime),
All who mighty Love obey,
Sadly wasting in your prime,
Clerk and laic, grave and gay;
Yet do ye, before the rest,
Gentle maidens, mark me tell!
Store my lesson in your breast,
Trust me it shall profit well:
Hear and heed me, and be blest!”⁵⁶⁷

The little warbler had no sooner ended his lay of love when he discovered the churl, upon which the bird ordered the river to retire to its source, the flowers to fade, the fruit to wither, and the castle to sink into the earth; for a vile churl should not be suffered to dwell where the beautiful and the brave had once held sweet communion. The churl, having heard the melodious strains of the little bird, resolved to capture him and sell him for a large sum. Accordingly he set his snare and caught the feathered songster. “What injury have I done thee?” cried the little bird. “And why dost thou doom me to death?” “Fear not,” said the churl; “I only desire to hear thy song, and will get thee a fine cage and plenty of seeds and kernels to eat. But sing thou must, else I'll wring thy neck and pick thy bones.” “Alas,” sighed the pretty captive, “who can sing in prison? And even were I cooked, I could scarce furnish thee with one mouthful.” Finding that all entreaties failed to move the hard-hearted churl, the bird then promised that, if set free, he would tell him three rare and precious secrets. This offer the churl could not resist, so he freed the little bird, who straightway flew to the summit of the pine tree, and then proceeded to disclose the three precious secrets. “First then,” said the bird: “Yield not a ready faith to every tale.” “Is this all your secret?” quoth the fellow, in rising wrath. “I need it not.” “Yet,” said the bird, “you seemed but lately to have forgot it—but now you may hold it fast. My second secret is: What is lost, 'tis wise to bear with patience.” At this the churl chafed more and more. “My third secret,” continued the bird, “is by far the best: What good thou hast, do not cast lightly away.” So saying, the little bird fluttered his wings a moment, and then flew away; and immediately the castle sank into the ground; and the fountain flowed back to its source; and the fruits dropped withered from the trees; and the flowers faded—and all the beauteous scene was melted into thin air.

Page 206—Five hundred pons.—It is possible that pon, like hun, is another name of a pagoda, a gold coin of the value of 3 1/2 rupís, which has not been coined in the mints of India since the early part of this century.

Page 212—The Want of Children.—In the note on this subject I omitted to include Hannah, mother of Samuel, the illustrious Hebrew seer (First Book of Samuel, ch. i, v, 9-11, and 20).— Asiatics consider a son as the “light,” or the “lamp,” of the household; and so it is said of a king, in the opening of the Persian romance entitled Bahár-i Dánish, or Garden and Spring, by 'Ináyatu-'lláh: “In the house of his prosperity the light [i. e. a son], which is the hope of descending life, beamed not, as the blossoms of his house [i. e. his women] produced not the fruit of his wishes; for which he made grief his companion, and sat lonely, like a point in the centre of the circle of sorrow”—poor fellow!

Page 391—The Story of the Envious Vazír.—I cannot call to mind any close parallel to this, but the incident upon which it turns, that of the old hag's artifice in procuring the lady's dress, recalls the story of “The Burnt Veil” in the Book of Sindibád, where a youth, desperately in love with the virtuous wife of a merchant, employs a crone—who, like too many of her sex in Muslim countries, went about evil-doing, in the guise of a devotee—to cause the lady's husband to put her away on suspicion of her being unfaithful. But this slight resemblance is doubtless merely fortuitous. The tale of the Envious Vazír exhibits more art than is usually found in Eastern fictions, especially the dénouement, where the Khoja's wife cleverly causes the malignant Vazír to convict himself of gross falsehood.

Page 430—The sentiment expressed to Sultan Mahmúd by the Independent Man has its analogue in one of the countless traditions of Hatim Taï, which goes thus: They asked Hatim: “Hast thou ever seen in the world any one more noble-minded than thyself?” He replied: “One day I had offered a sacrifice of 40 camels, and had gone out with some other chiefs to a corner of the desert. I saw a thorn-cutter, who had gathered together a bundle of thorns. I said to him: ‘Why goest thou not to share the hospitality of Hatim Taï, when a crowd has assembled at his feast?’ He replied: ‘Whoever can eat of the bread of his own labour will not put himself under an obligation to Hatim Taï.’ This man, in mind and magnanimity, I consider greater than myself.”

Page 483—For the original of the story of the Two Merchants see Méon's edition of Barbazan's collection of Fabliaux, Paris, 1808, tome i, 52, “Des Deux Bons Amis Loiax,” and for the modern French prose version see Le Grand's Fabliaux, edition 1781, iii, 262.

Page 499—Mr. James Moir, Rector, Grammar School, Aberdeen, is the authority (after his mother) for a story in the Folk-Lore Journal, 1884, vol. ii, pp. 68-71, which presents an interesting parallel to the tale from Salsette, with a clever girl in place of Little John: Three young girls are abandoned in a wood by their poverty-stricken parents, because they have too many mouths to feed. The little maidens arrive at a giant's house and are granted shelter for the night. The giant resolves to kill them and have them cooked for his breakfast in the morning. In order to distinguish in the dark his own three daughters from the stranger girls, he places “strae rapes” round the necks of the latter and gold chains round his daughters' necks, with the result that he puts his own offspring to death. Mally Whuppie, the heroine, wakes her sisters softly and they all escape. They next come to a king's house, and Mally and her sisters are to be married to the three sons of the king, provided he should obtain possession of three wonderful things from the giant: (1) his sword from the back of his bed; (2) his purse from beneath his pillow; and (3) the ring from off the giant's finger. Mally is successful in her two first adventures, and though she is caught by the giant when drawing off his ring, she ultimately escapes by a clever ruse.

Page 510—The story of the King and his Falcon occurs in many collections, and perhaps one of the oldest versions of it is found in Capt. R. C. Temple's Legends of the Panjáb, vol. i, p. 467, in the story of “Princess Niwal Dai,” where a snake is seen by the falcon to drop poison into the cup.

Page 519—The Rose of Bakáwalí.—I find my conjectures regarding the construction of this romance are borne out by Garcin de Tassy (Histoire de la Littèrature Hindouie, second edition, Paris, 1870, tome i, p. 606), in his account of a version in the Hindústání Selections by the Sayyíd Husain, compiled by order of the Military Examiners' Committee, and published at Madras in the year 1849, in 2 vols. He says: “Le second volume offre la reproduction, en 64 p., des deux tiers du Gul-i Bakâwalî d'après la rédaction de Nihâl Chand, dont j'ai donné la traduction en français. Huçain s'arrête au mariage de Tâj ulmulûk et de Bakâwalî, où devrait en effet finir de récit, le reste étant un hors-d'œuvre tout à fait hindou.”

He describes a similar romance (tome ii, pp. 531, 532) by Rayhán ed-Dín, of Bengal, written in rhymed couplets (masnaví) and entitled Khiyabán-i Rayhán, or Parterres of the Divine Grace, A.H. 1212 (A.D. 1797-1798): “Cet ouvrage,” he says, “roule sur le même sujet que le Gul-i Bakâwalî; mais, outre qu'il est tout en vers, il est beaucoup plus long. Il se divise en quarante chapitres, intitulés chacun Gul-gaschnî (Abondance de roses)… Au surplus, il est bon de rappeler ici ce que j'ai dit ailleurs, que le Gul-i Bakâwalî est une légende indienne qui est reproduite dans plusieurs rédactions différentes et même dans le dialecte des Laskars du Bengale.”

Another tale, in Persian, entitled Kissa-i Fírúz Sháh, if not identical with our romance, seems to be on the same plan, judging from the all-too brief account given of it by Dr. H. H. Wilson in his Descriptive Catalogue of the Mackenzie Collection of Oriental MSS., vol. ii, p. 137: “The story of Firoz Shah, son of the king of Badakshan, who sought a marvellous flower to cure his father.”

Page 520—In the so-called Suite des Mille et Une Nuits, by Chavis and Cazotte (Story of Habíb, the Arabian Knight), the Amír Salamis weeps himself blind on hearing a false report of his son Habíb's death. The hero, when he comes to know of this sore affliction, is told that the only remedy is to be found among the treasures of Solomon, preserved in a cavern, and going there he finds two flat opals fixed as eyes into a visor, which he takes away, and with them restores his father's sight. And the Rabbins say that Jacob wept himself totally blind from grief at the reported death of his son Joseph, and he recovered his sight many years afterwards by applying to his eyes the garment of Joseph, which his brethren brought from Egypt.

Page 529—There can be no doubt that the Panjábí legend of Rasálú's game with Sirikap and the story of the Prince and Dilbar are cousins, so to say, not far removed. In the former Rasálú makes it one of the conditions of sparing the life of the vanquished Sirikap that he must consent to have his forehead branded with a red-hot iron, “in token of his vassalage,” and another condition is that he forgive his daughter whom he had imprisoned. In the latter the hero compels Dilbar to liberate his four brethren, but she insists on first branding them on their backs, “in token of the state of slavery to which they had been reduced.”—It seems to me that in the earlier part of the Panjábí legend something must have dropped out in connection with Rasálú's rescuing the ants and the hedgehog from the river (p. 525), since it is usual in folk-tales for “thankful animals” to requite their benefactor by rendering him signal services.

Abraham and Nimrod, 253.

Abú Síná (Avicenna), 242.

Afríts, 168.

Ahmed, 238.

Aino Folk-Tales, 503.

Ainsworth's Old Saint Paul's, 523.

Akhfash and his Goat, 177.

Akhlák-i Jalálí, 264.

Alakésa Kathá, xxix; a different Tamil story, xxx.

Alakésa, King, 193.

Albanian Tales, 539.

Alexander, Romance of, 167.

Al-Faraj ba'd al-Shiddah, 474, 493, 547.

Alf Laylawa Layla—see Thousand and One Nights.

Alfonsus, Peter, 482, 564.

Alí, Muhammed's son-in-law, 238.

Ali, Mrs. Meer Hasan, xxi, 175, 216, 351, 531.

Almsgiving enjoined by the Kurán, 430.

Amári, 284.

Antimony, Legends about, 292.

Anvar-í Suhaylí, 566.

Anvarí, The Persian poet, 175.

Apocryphal Gospel of the Saviour's Infancy, 556.

Apollonius Tyanæus, 541.

Arabian Nights—see Thousand and One Nights.

Arbuthnot, F. F., xxiii.

Archæological Review, 299.

Archery feats, 100.

Ashrafí, a gold coin, 43.

Asiatic Journal, 470, 513.

Astrologers' Predictions,xxxviii, 175.

Astrology, 8, 12, 175, 240, 313, 362.

Atkinson, James, 470.

Avaiyar, The Tamil poetess, xxx.

Babylonian magic, 324.

Backgammon, 250, 522.

Badakshán, 263.

Bagh o Bahár, 478, 495.

Bahá-ed-Dín Zuhayr, 164.

Bahár-i Dánish, 569.

Bahrám, 339.

Bakáwalí, Romance of: Persian and Urdú versions and translations, xxxv; its construction, 519, 571.

Bakhtyár Náma, xxxi, 8.

Balfour's Cyclopædia of India, 226, 292, 325, 492.

Bambú-rice, 231.

Banafshá, 343, 359.

Bandow, C. J., 545.

Barbary Tales, 498.

Barbazan's Fabliaux, 549, 565, 566, 570.

Baring-Gould's Lost and Hostile Gospels, 476, 542.

Barlaam and Joasaph, 563.

Basset's Contes Populaires Ber-bères, 498.

Bath, Eastern Ladies at the, 356.

Bazár-Master's Wife, 376, 548.

Beal, Dr. Samuel, 516.

Beggar, The Blind, 402.

Bebelianæ Facetiæ, 551.

Beggars, The Two, 492.

Benfey school of folk-lorists, xx.

Bengal, Folk-Tales of, 504.

Beryn, Tale of, 167.

Betel, 325.

Bhaváni, 197.

Bible, xxi, 27, 70, 140, 212, 218, 253, 310, 313, 320, 339, 340, 347, 368, 456, 464, 568.

Bilkís, Queen of Sheba, 367, 450, 473.

Billah, Al-Mu'tasim, 93.

Bird, The Gardener and the, 448, 563.

Bird-language, 299.

Bird-Maidens, 58, 476.

Birds, Transformation into, 298, 299, 346, 545.

Bismillah, etc., 259.

Bistán, 289, 303.

Biting the cheek, 314.

Blind Beggar, 402.

Blind Man's Story, 60, 464, 477.

Blind Man, The Ungrateful, 215, 516, 532.

Blind Men and Elephant, 195.

Boccaccio's Decameron, 483.

Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato, 167, 548.

Bráhman and Lion, 254, 518, 531.

Bráhman and Rescued Snake, 231, 518.

Bráhman's Wife and the Mungús, 211, 515.

Brandan, Voyage of St., 475.

Brown, John P., 472.

Brothers, Romance of Four, 530.

Brothers, The Ungrateful, 149, 152, 493.

Browne's (Sir Thomas) Vulgar Errors, 259, 540.

Buchan's Scottish Ballads, 545.

Buddhist works, 8, 297, 515, 563.

Búlbúl and Rose, 122, 345.

Burák, Muhammed's celestial steed, 238.

Burmese Tales, 545.

Burton, Sir R. F., xxxii, 277, 512, 550, 561.

Busk's (Miss) Sagas from the Far East, 500, 556.

Bustán of Sa'dí, 245, 257, 278,

Butler, Samuel, 121.

Calenders, 385.

Camel, The Lost, 194, 511.

Camel-driver's Story, 531.

Caylus' (Comte de) Contes Ori-entaux, 540.

Cazotte's Arabian Tales, 571.

Cento Novelle Antiche, 560.

Chamberlain, Basil Hall, 503.

Chapala, 325.

Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, Analogues of, xxxii, 166, 299, 439, 474.

Chaupúr, 526.

Chehár Darvesh, 478, 495.

Children, Want of, 212, 568.

Chitrasan, 322.

Chitrawat, 324.

Chodzko's Popular Poetry of Persia, 101.

Chosroes, 278.

Clarke's Sikandar Náma, 238.

Confessio Amantis, 492.

Conrad of Wartzburg, 521.

Contes pour Rire, 551.

Convivales Sermones, 551.

Cookery, Kings formerly skilled in, 108, 261.

Cowley's amatory poetry, 348.

Crore (or karor), in Indian and Persian numeration, 251.

Cypress, 265.

Damascenus, Johannes, 563.

Danae, Story of, xxxix.

Danish Ballads, 523, 545.

Darveshes, Dancing, 105.

Darveshes, often rogues, 67.

Darveshes, History of the Four, 478, 495.

Dasent's Popular Tales from the Norse, xxxix, 497, 562.

Day's Journey, 271.

Day's (Lal Behari) Folk Tales of Bengal, 504.

Deaf Man and his Sick Friend, 446, 561.

Decameron, 483.

Defoe on Fate, xxvi.

D'Herbelot's Bibliothèque Ori-entale, 238.

Délices de Verboquet, 551.

Demonologia, 241.

Dice-playing, 522.

Dilbar Lakhí, 244.

Dínar, a gold coin, 47.

Dirham, a silver coin, 360.

Disciplina Clericalis, 482, 564.

Dívs, 253.

Dog, The Faithful, 206, 509, 513.

Dog - worshipping Merchant, Story of the, 494.

Doménichi's (Lod.) Facetiæ, 551.

D'Ouville's (Sieur) Tales, 551.

Dowson's Hindú Mythology, 228.

Dozon's Contes Albanais, 539.

Dravidian Nights Entertainments, 544, 545.

Dubois' Tamil Panchatantra, 532.

Dunlop's History of Fiction, 167, 530.

Durga, 197.

Eastern Story-Tellers, xxi.

Eastwick, Edward B., 566.

Elephant, Four Blind Men and the, 195.

Errors, Browne's Vulgar, 259, 540.

European Romances—see Romances.

Eve, Milton's, 324.

Expeditions, The Three, 496.

Fabliaux, 483, 521, 549, 566.

Facetiæ: Bebelianæ, 551; Doménichi, 551.

Fagnan, Prof. E., 474.

Fairies, not immortal, 318.

Faithless Wife and Ungrateful Blind Man, 215, 516, 532.

Falcon, The Faithful, 510, 570.

Farhád and Shirín, 289.

Farídún, 69.

Farrukh, 274.

Farrukhrúz, History of, 147, 493.

Fars, or Farsistán, 69.

Fate, or Destiny, xxv, 121.

Fátihá, 447, 561.

Firdaus, 244, 304, 495.

Firdausí, 240, 414.

Fírúz Sháh, 295.

Fírúz Sháh, Story of, 571.

Flowers, etc., Magical, 242, 467, 520, 572.

Folk-Lore Journal, 479, 570.

Forbes, Dr. Duncan, 455.

Forbes' Oriental Memoirs, 215.

Fortune and Misfortune, xxv.

Forty, The number, 140, 155, 188, 300, 456.

Forty Vazírs, History of the, xxxi, xxxix, 3, 158, 306, 383.

Frazer, James G., 299.

Friends, The Two, 89, 480.

Friday, the Muslim Sabbath, 139.

Fruit, Magical, 220, 298, 507, 517.

Gambling maniacs, 522.

Game of Vazír Pádisháh, 557.

Ganas, xxxiv.

Ganesa, xxxiii.

Garcin de Tassy, xxxv, 256, 281, 290, 547, 569, 570.

Gardener and Little Bird, 448, 563.

Geldart's Folk-Lore of Modern Greece, 496.

Gems from Snakes, 232, 297, 341, 540.

Gems, Secreting, 299, 541.

Gems, The Nine, 313.

Genieand Solomon's Ring, 163.

Geomancy, 60.

German Popular Tales, 521.

Gesta Romanorum, xxxii, 482, 564.

Ghatika, 200.

Gibb, E. J. W., xxxi, 3, 303, 306, 383.

Gladwin's Persian Moonshee, 561.

God, the Merciful, etc., xxxiii, 259, 296.

Goldsmiths, rogues in stories, 224.

Gospels, Lost and Hostile, 476, 542.

Gower's Confessio Amantis, 492.

Greek Popular Tales, 496, 498, 540.

Grimm, The Brothers, 521.

Guerin de Monglave, 523.

Gueulette's Soirées Bretonnes, 511.

Gulistán of Sa'dí, xxiv, 101, 253, 311.

Gul-rukh, 347.

Gunadhya, xxii.

Hair of demon as a charm, 269.

Hahn's Greek Tales, 540.

Hammalá, 262.

Hardy's Eastern Monachism, 297.

Hartland, E. Sidney, 479.

Haste and Patience, 449.

Hatim and his enemy, 478; and the thorncutter, 569: his mother and brother, 455.

Hatim Taï, Story of, 46, 455, 520.

Hauda-amári, 284.

Hazár ú Yek Rúz, 474.

Head, Shaving the, 172.

Heavenly orbs, 264.

Henna, 11, 314.

Herklot's Qanoon-i Islam, 351.

Hermit, The Foolish, 112.

Herodias' Daughter, 319.

Herrtage's Gesta Rom., 483.

Hershon's Talmudic Miscellany, 512.

Hikáyát-i 'Ajíb ú Gharíb, 474, 546.

Hindústán—see India.

Historia Sept. Sap. Rom., 548.

Hitopadesa, 121, 464.

Hoopoe (or lapwing) and Solomon, 450.

Horoscope, 240.

Horse, The faithful, 507.

Hospitality, Three Days', 9.

Howdah, 284.

Hubbí's Persian Tales, 474, 546.

Humaï, 5.

Hunter and Dog, 206, 509, 513.

Hunter's Imperial Gazetteer of India, 199.

Húrís, 23.

Huon of Bordeaux, 264, 518, 521, 544.

Husain Vá'iz, 566.

Husn-árá, 308.

Hyperbole, Oriental, 339, 340, 348.

Iblís, 376.

Idols, Lovely women called, 291.

'Ifríts (Afríts), 168.

Imáms, 238.

Independent Man, Story of 425, 569.

India, Balfour's Cyclopædia of, 226, 292, 325, 492.

India: Dowson's Hindú Mythology, 228.

India, Hunter's Imperial Gazetteer of, 199.

India, Marriages in, 337, 351.

India, Observations on the Mus-sulmans of, xxi, 175, 216, 351, 531.

India, Past Days in, 493, 516.

Indian Antiquary, 489, 499, 541, 543.

Indian drama, 224.

Indian Notes and Queries, 197, 515.

Indian story-books: Alakésa Kathá, xxix, xxxii; Bengalí Folk Tales, 504: Dravidian Nights Entertainments (Madanakámarájankadai), 544, 545; Hitopadesa, 121, 464; Kashmírí Folk-Tales, 507, 524, 544, 557; Kathá Manjarí, 517; Kathá Sarit Ságara, xxi, 166, 287, 346, 516, 558; Panchatantra, 532; Panjábí Legends, 524, 526, 570; Sinhasana Dwatrinsati, 517; Vetála-panchavinsati, 500, 518; Vrihat Kathá, xxii.

Irán, 43.

Indra's Paradise, 316, 544.

Infernal Machines, 201.

Infancy, Apocryphal Gospel of the, 556.

Infidels, all who are not Muslims, 439.

Iram, Rose-Garden of, 304, 494.

Iskandar, 173.

Istikbál, 271.

Iswara, 492.

Italian story-books: Decameron, 483; Cento Novelle Antiche, 560.

'Itr-igul, 330.

Ivanhoe, 100.

Jacob's sorrow, 242.

Jamí, the Persian poet, 356.

Jamíla Khatún, 294.

Jamshíd, Cup of, 173.

Játakas, 8, 563.

Jeshu, Toldoth, 475, 542.

Jewellers, rogues in stories, 224.

Jews, Absurd charges against, 439.

Joseph, the son of Jacob, 244, 312; and Potiphar's Wife, 330.

Jülg's Mongolian Tales, 500, 556.

Káf, Mountains of, 303, 387.

Kalandars, 385.

Kálí, the Hindú goddess, 197.

Kasharkasha, Story of Prince, 69, 479.

Kashmír, Folk-Tales of, 507, 524, 544, 557.

Kathá Manjarí, 517.

Kází and Merchant's Wife, 414, 555.

Kází's Wife, 358, 548.

Kalmuk Tales, 500, 556.

Kashank, the Afrít, 173.

Kathá Sarit Ságara, xxi, 166, 287, 346, 516, 558.

Khil'at 99.

Khiyaban-i Rayhán, 571.

Khizar, 470, 521.

Khoja, 3.

King and his faithful Horse, 507; and his Falcon, 510, 570.

Kíng and his Four Ministers: plan of the frame-story, xxix; Bengalí oral version, 504; Kashmírí variant, 507; analogues of the tales, 511.

King who learned a trade, 434.

Kings abdicating the throne, 80.

Kings in Eastern stories, 123.

Kings going about in disguise, 128, 427,

Kings, Good Indian, 193.

Kings, Rapacious, 40.

Knowles, Rev. J. H., 507, 524, 544, 557.

Kokilan, 530.

Kurán, 187, 238, 253, 265, 312, 447, 450, 561.

Kurán, MS. copies of the, 134.

Kurroglú, the bandit-poet, 101.

Kutwál, 278.

Kutwal's Wife, 384, 549.

Kuvera, 464, 535.

Lady and her Suitors, 287.

Lady's Story, 64.

Lakh, 244.

Lamp-black as a collyrium, 266.

Lane's Modern Egyptians, xxi, 11, 60, 105, 238.

Language of Birds, etc., 299, 505, 510.

Laylá and Majnún, 122, 237.

Leaves of the palm used as dishes, 202.

Lee, Sidney L., 518, 544.

Leg, Standing on one, 254.

Le Grand's Fabliaux, 483, 521, 549, 565, 566, 570.

Legrand's Contes Populaires Grecs, 498.

Life, or heart, extraneous from the body, 30.

Life, Water of, 520, 521.

Lion and Bráhman, 254, 518, 531.

Llewellyn and his Dog, 515.

Longfellow, xxvi.

Love declarations in the East, 290.

Love, Ten Stages of, 324.

Love, Victims of, 323.

Lukman the Wise, 122.

Luminous Jewels, 540.

Lydgate, John, 483, 564.

Lytton, Lord, 523.

Mackenzie, Colonel Colin, 351.

Madanakamarajankadai, 544.

Maghrabí country, 6.

Magic, Babylonian, 324.

Magic Staff, 156.

Magicians, Egyptian, 27.

Magical Fruits, 220, 298, 507, 517.

Magical Flowers etc., 242, 467, 520, 572.

Magical Transformations, 158, 171, 299, 300, 301, 320, 346, 544, 545.

Mahábhárata, 108, 194, 290, 517, 518, 523, 534.

Mahamayi, 197.

Mahbúb ul-Kalúb, xxii, xl.

Mahfil-árá, xxiii.

Mahmúd of Ghazní, 414.

Mahmúda, 262.

Maina, 298.

Majnún and Laylá, 122, 237.

Malay version of the Mungús story, 516.

Malcolm's Sketches of Persia, 141.

Mally Whuppie, 570.

Mán, a Persian weight, 306.

Mango Fruit, The wonderful, 220, 507, 517.

Mangoes, 215.

Man's dignity, 310.

Marie de France, 545.

Marriages in India, 337, 351.

Mas'údí, 511.

Mehndi, 314.

Men smuggled into harams, 117.

Metempsychosis, 218, 223, 336.

Mihr ú Mah, Story of, 370, 546.

Miles Gloriosus, 548.

Mille et Un Jours, 474, 480, 547.

Milman, Dean, 517.

Milton's Eve, 324.

Moir, James, 570.

Money in Eastern Tales, 360.

Moon of Canaan, 312.

Moth and Candle, 245, 257.

Mu'allaka Poems, 313.

Muezzin, 104.

Muhammad, 9, 23, 67, 69, 106, 112, 187, 238, 312, 401.

Muir's (Sir Wm.) Life of Mahomet, 238.

Mukhlis, of Isfahán, 474.

Mulk-i Nighárín, 281, 340.

Mungús, The Faithful, 211, 515.

Muslim Sabbath, 139.

Mu'tasim Billah, the Octonary, 93.

Muzaffar Sháh, 304.

Nakhshabí, xxii. 464, 517.

Nala and Damayanti, 108, 290, 517, 518, 523.

Name, The Ineffable, 163, 476. 542.

Narkis, 386.

Nassar, History of, its motif, xxv.

Naubut, 273.

Nau Ratn, 313.

Netherlandish Ballad, 545.

Nightingale and Rose, 122, 345.

Nimrod and Abraham, 253.

Nirmalá, 325.

Nizamí, 173, 238.

Norse Tales, xxxix., 497, 562.

Nostradamus, 241.

Novel writers, xxii.

Nú Rúz, 173.

Nushírván, 278.

Octonary, The, 93.

Oriental hyperbole, 339, 340, 348.

Oriental sharpers, 411.

Orientaux, Contes, 540.

Orlando Innamorata, 167, 548.

Ouseley, Sir Wm., 345.

Oyster and Pearl, 257.

Paddy, or pádí, 536.

Pagoda, a gold coin, 196.

Painter and Woodcarver, Story of, 500.

Painter's Story, 53, 471.

Panchatantra, 532.

Panjáb, Legends of the, 524, 526, 570, 572.

Paradise, Expedition to, 183, 500.

Parasang, 430.

Parrot-Book, xvii, 464, 517.

Parvati, xxxiii, 197.

Patience and haste, 449.

Payne's (John) Tales from the Arabic, 561.

Pearls from rain-drops, 257.

Penha, G. F. D,' 499.

Perfumes, 330.

Persian amatory poetry, 348.

Persian and Hindústání Proverbs, 283.

Persian Portraits (Arbuthnot's), xxiii.

Persian pictures of women, 460.

Persian story-books: Anvar-i Suhaylí, 566; Bahár-i Dánish, 569; Bakhtyár láma, xxxi, xxxii, 8; Bustán, 245, 257, 278; Chehár Darvesh, 478, 495; Fírúz Sháh, 570; Gul-i Bakáwalí, xxxv; Gulistán, xxiv, 101, 253, 311; Hatim Taï, 455, 456; Hazar ú Yak Rúz (Thousand and One Days), 474, 479, 547; Hikáyát-i 'Ajíb ú Gharíb, 474, 546.

Persian writers' style, 250, 267, 348, 356.

Petis de la Croix, 474, 479, 547.

Plautus, 548.

Poisoned Food, 226, 518.

Pon, an Indian coin, 206, 568.

Popular Tales and Fictions (Clouston's), 30, 474, 476, 515, 530, 531, 548, 558.

Porter's Travels in Georgia, 357.

Potiphar's Wife, 330.

Predictions, of Astrologers, xxxviii, 175.

Presents to superiors, 340.

Princess and Dív, 279, 532.

Prior's Danish Ballads, 523, 545.

Proverbs: Roebuck's Pers. and Hind., 283; Sinhalese, about luck, xxvii, xxviii.

Qanoon-i Islám, 351.

Radloff's Siberian Tales, 512.

Ralston's Tibetan Tales, xxxix.

Rámáyana, 108.

Rasálú, Legend of Rájá, 524, 572.

Rayhán ed-Dín, 571.

Rehatsek, E., xxv, xl, 177.

Religious trickery, 229

Reyes, M. de los, 486.

Rieu, Dr. Chas., xxiii, 474, 475, 478, 546.

Ring, The, 355, 546.

Rings, Signet, 70.

Road to the Mosque, 547.

Robe of honour, 99.

Robinson's Persian Poetry, 257.

Robles, Isidro de, 551, 561.

Roebuck's Persian and Hindú-stání Proverbs, 283.

Romance writers, European, 264.

Romances, European: Alexander, 167; Agravain, etc., 530; Eglamour (Sir), xxxii; Guerin de Mon-glave, 523; Huon of Bordeaux, 264, 518, 521, 544; Isumbras (Sir), Oc-tavian, Torrent of Portugal, xxxii.

Roscoe's Spanish Novelists, 486, 552, 561.

Rose and Nightingale, 122, 345.

Roses, Otto of, 330.

Roy, Protap Chandra, 523, 539.

Rúh-afzá, 304.

Rukh (or roc), 306.

Rúm, Country of, 44.

Rupí, Value of, 244.

Rustam, 240.

Sa'dí, the Persian poet, 101, 245, 253, 257, 278, 311.

Sagas from the Far East, 500, 556.

Sakhr, the demon, and Solomon, 163.

Salamander, 259.

Saman-rú, 288.

Sambhavi, 197.

Sastras, The six, 228.

Sástrí, Pandit S. M. Natésa, xxix, 193, 195, 197, 229, 544, 545.

Satan, Artful women compared to, 376.

Satan, the stoned one, 277, 369.

Satanæ, Tela Ignea, 475.

Sayf ul-Mulúk, Story of, 370, 547.

Scottish Ballad, 545.

Scott's edition of the Arabian Nights, 275; his Tales from the Arabic and Persian, 455, 482.

Self-made men, 148.

Serpents, Fight between Two, 53, 471, 475.

Serpents, Gems in the heads of, 232, 297, 341, 540.

Setti caste, 207.

Seven Wise Masters, xxx, 515, 548.

Seven Wise Mistresses, 515.

Sexes, The Exchanged, 279, 532.

Shaddad's Paradise, 304.

Sháhábád, 459.

Shah Bakht and his Vazír, xxxii.

Shah Manssur, Story of, 12.

Shah-muhra, 466.

Sháh-Náma, 240, 414.

Sháh-záda, 250.

Shamsah the Witch, 357, 493, 546.

Shamsah ú Kahkahah, xxiii.

Shaving the head, 172.

Shi'ahs and Súnís, 238.

Shíráz, 69.

Shírín and Farhád, 289,

Shoayb, Story of, 118, 489.

Siberian Tales, 512.

Siddhí Kúr, Relations of, 500.

Signet Rings, 70.

Sikandar-Náma, 173, 238.

Simon Magus, 476.

Simurgh, 306, 387.

Sindibád, Book of (Clouston's), 5, 515, 518, 548, 569

Sinhalese proverbs about luck, xxvii, xxviii.

Sinhasana Dwatrinsati, 517.

Sirikop and Rasálú, 524.

Síva, xxxiii, 212.

Snake and Bráhman, 231, 518.

Snake-gems—see Serpents.

Solomon: as a fisherman, 119; his magic carpet, 164; his signet ring, 163, 261; and the simurgh, 306; and the Queen of Sheba, 367, 450; and the Water of Life, 520.

Somadeva, xxi, 216.

Spanish Novelists, 486, 552, 561.

Sparks, Capt. T. P., 545.

Spheres, Music of the, 264.

Stephenson. R. L., 123.

Story-Tellers, Eastern, xxi.

Súfís, 105.

Sumbul, 384.

Sun and Moon, Story of the, 370, 546.

Sunrise, Superstition regarding, 179, 404.

Surma, 292.

Swedish Tales, 497.

Swine's flesh, 373.

Swynnerton, Rev. Chas., 524.

Tabari, Chronique de, 512.

Táhir and the Witch Shamsah, 493.

Táj ul-Mulúk, 240.

Talmudic Miscellany, 512.

Tawney, Prof. C. H., 287, 558.

Taylor's Catalogue of Oriental MSS., xxx.

Tela Ignea Satanæ, 475.

Tell's feat eclipsed, 101.

Temple, Capt. R.C., 524, 526, 570.

Thackeray, W. M., 457.

Thigh, Jewels etc. concealed in, 299, 541.

Thirty-two Tales of a Throne, 517.

Thompson's Akhlak-i Jalali, 264.

Thorpe's Yule-Tide Stories, 497.

Thousand and One Days, 474, 480, 547.

Thousand and One Nights, xxxii, 9, 109, 141, 166, 182, 275, 314, 320, 323, 456, 475, 477, 511, 522, 542, 547, 549, 550, 556, 561.

Tibetan Tales, xxxix.

Tika, 349.

Toldoth Jeshu, 475, 542.

Tomán, a gold coin, 23.

Tongues in Trees, etc., 311.

Topes, or stupas, 226.

Transformations, Magical, 158, 171, 299, 300, 301, 320, 346, 544, 545.

Travel, Advantages of, 5.

Treasure guarded by dragons and serpents, 167, 232.

Treasure, The Hidden, 442, 558.

Treasure-trees, 166, 304.

Treasure-trove, 43, 123.

Turkish story-books: the Forty Vazírs, xxxi, xxxix, 3, 158, 306, 383; Turkish Evening Entertainments, 472, 512; Al-Faraj ba'd al-Shiddah, 474, 547.

Tútí Náma, xxii, 464, 517.

Unity, Court of, 112.

Vazír, The Envious, 390, 569.

Vazír, The Treacherous, 114.

Vazírs, The Forty, xxxi, xxxix, 3, 306, 383.

Vedas, The Four, 228.

Verboquet, Délices de, 551.

Vermieux' Indian Tales, 516.

Vetálapanchavinsati, 500, 518.

Vijanajara, 199.

Virtuous Devasmita and her Suitors, 287.

Visitors, Meeting, 271, 285.

Visvesvara, 212.

Vogelritter, Ballad of the, 545.

Voltaire's Zadig, 511.

Wadia, P. D.-H., 489, 543.

Wagenseil's Tela Ignea Satanæ, 475.

Walhouse, M. J., 541.

Washerman's Story, 58, 476.

Wasíf's amatory poetry, 348.

Water of Life, 520, 521.

Way's Fabliaux, 567.

Wilson, Dr. H. H., xxix, 571.

Wind as messenger of love, 164.

Wine forbidden to Muslims, 312.

Witch Shamsah, 357, 493, 546.

Witches and werwolves, 45.

Wives, Unfaithful, 19, 216.

Woman-nature, 350.

Woman, The perfect, 194.

Woman who knew the language of animals, 505, 510.

Woman's love scorned, 13.

Women, The Three Deceitful, 355, 546.

Women, addicted to Magic, 401.

Women's condition in the Muslim Paradise, 187, 248.

Woodcarver and Painter, Story of the, 500.

Wordsworth, xxvi.

Wrestling in Persia, 110.

Wright's Latin Stories, 492.

Yad-est, Game of, 383.

Yakshas, 535.

Yaman, 152.

Youth, Fountain of, 521.

Yule-Tide Stories, 497.

Zadig, 511.

Zanána, 206.

Zayn ul-Mulúk, 240.

Zeus and the new-born Dionysus concealed in his thigh, 543.

Zotenberg's Chronique de Tab-ari, 512; his Barlaam and Joasaph, 563.

Zulaykha, Potiphar's Wife, 330.