THE SLEEPER AWAKENED.
DURING the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Baghdad a very rich merchant, whose wife was far advanced in years. They had an only son, called Abou Hassan, who had been in every respect brought up with great strictness.
“The merchant died when this son was thirty years old; and Abou Hassan, who was his sole heir, took possession of the vast wealth which his father had amassed, by great parsimony and a constant industry in business. The son, whose views and inclinations were very different from those of his father, very soon began to dissipate his fortune. As his father had not allowed him in his youth more than was barely sufficient for his maintenance, and as Abou Hassan had always envied young men of his own age who had been more liberally supplied, and who never denied themselves any of those pleasures in which young men too readily indulge, he determined in his turn to distinguish himself by making an appearance consistent with the great wealth with which fortune had favoured him. Accordingly, he divided his fortune into two parts. With the one he purchased estates in the country and houses in the city, and, although these would produce a revenue sufficient to enable him to live at his ease, he resolved to let the sums arising from them accumulate; the other half, which consisted of a considerable sum of ready money, was to be spent in enjoyment, to compensate him for the time he thought he had lost under the severe restraint in which he had been kept during his father’s lifetime: but he laid it down as a primary rule, which he determined inviolably to keep, not to expand more than this sum in the jovial life he proposed to lead.
“Abou Hassan soon brought together a company of young men, nearly of his own age and rank in life; and he thought only how he should make their time pass agreeably. To accomplish this he was not content with entertaining them day and night, and giving the most splendid feasts, at which the most delicious viands, and wines of the most exquisite flavour were served in abundance; he added music to all this, engaging the best singers of both sexes. His young friends, on their part, while they indulged in the pleasures of the table, often joined their voices to those of the musicians, and, accompanied by soft instruments, formed a concert of delightful harmony. These feasts were generally followed by balls, to which the best dancers in the city of Baghdad were invited. All these amusements, which were daily varied by new pleasures, were so extremely expensive to Abou Hassan, that he could not continue his profuse style of living beyond one year. The large sum of money which he had devoted to this prodigality ended with the year. So soon as he ceased giving these entertainments his friends disappeared; he never even met them in any place he frequented. In short, they shunned him whenever they saw him; and if by accident he encountered any one of them, and wished to detain him in conversation, the false friend excused himself under various pretences.
“Abou Hassan was more distressed at the strange conduct of his friends, who abandoned him with so much faithlessness and ingratitude after all the vows and protestations of friendship they had made him, than at the loss of all the money he had so foolishly expended on them. Melancholy and thoughtful, with his head sunk upon his breast, and a countenance full of bitter emotion, he entered his mother’s apartment and seated himself at the end of a sofa at some distance from her.
“ ‘What is the matter, my son?’ asked his mother, when she saw him in this desponding state. ‘Why are you so moody, so cast down, and so different from your former self? Had you lost everything you possessed in the world you could not appear more miserable. I know at what an enormous outlay you have lived; and ever since you engaged in that course of dissipation I thought you would soon have very little money left. Your fortune was at your own disposal, and I did not endeavour to oppose your irregular proceedings, because I knew the prudent precaution you had taken of leaving half of your means untouched; while this half remains I do not see why you should be plunged into this deep melancholy.’ Abou Hassan burst into tears at these words, and in the midst of his grief exclaimed, ‘Oh, my dear mother, I know from woeful experience how insupportable poverty is. Yes, I feel very sensibly that as the setting of the sun deprives us of the splendour of that luminary, so poverty deprives us of every sort of enjoyment. Poverty buries in oblivion all the praises that have been bestowed on us, and all the good that has been said of us, before we fell into its grasp. It reduces us at every step to take measures to avoid observation, and to pass whole nights in shedding the bitterest tears. He who is poor is regarded but as a stranger, even by his relations and his friends. You know, my mother,’ continued Abou Hassan, ‘how liberally I have conducted myself towards my friends for a year past. I have exhausted my means in entertaining them in the most sumptuous manner; and now that I cannot continue to do so, I find myself abandoned by them all. When I say that I have it no longer in my power to entertain them as I have done, I mean that the money I had set apart to be employed for that purpose is entirely exhausted. I thank Heaven for having inspired me with the idea of reserving what I call my income, under the rule and oath I made not to touch it for any foolish dissipation. I will strictly observe this oath, and I have resolved to make a good use of what happily remains; but first I wish to see to what extremity my friends, if indeed I can still call them so, will carry their ingratitude. I will see them all, one after another; and when I represent to them the lengths to which I have gone from my regard to them, I will solicit them to raise amongst themselves a sufficient sum of money in some measure to relieve me in the unhappy situation to which I am reduced by contributing to their amusement. But I mean to take this step, as I have already said, only to see whether I shall find in these friends the least sentiment of gratitude.’
“ ‘My son,’ replied the mother of Abou Hassan, ‘I will not take upon myself to dissuade you from executing your plan; but I can tell you beforehand that your hope is unfounded. Believe me, it is useless to attempt this trial; you will receive no assistance but from the property you have yourself reserved. I plainly see you do not yet know those men who, among people of your description, are commonly styled friends; but you will soon know them: and I pray Heaven it may be in the way I wish—that is, for your good.’ ‘My dear mother,’ cried Abou Hassan, ‘I am convinced of the truth of what you tell me: but it will be a more convincing proof to me of those men’s baseness and want of feeling if I learn it by my own experience. ’
“Abou Hassan set out immediately; and he timed his visits so well that he found all his friends at home. He represented to them the great distress he was in, and besought them to lend him such a sum of money as would be of effectual assistance to him; he even promised to enter into a bond to every one individually to return the sums each should lend him, so soon as his affairs were re-established; but he still avoided letting them know that his distresses were in a great measure arising from them; for he wished to give them every opportunity of displaying their generosity. And he did not forget to hold out to them the hope that he might one day be again in a position to entertain them as he had done.
“Not one of his convivial companions was the least affected by Abou Hassan’s distresses and afflictions, though he represented his embarrassments in the most lively colours, hoping he should persuade his friends to relieve him. He had even the mortification to find that many of them pretended not to know him, and did not even remember ever to have seen him. He returned home, his heart filled with grief and indignation. ‘Alas! my mother,’ cried he, as he entered her apartment, ‘you have told me the truth; instead of friends I have found only perfidious, ungrateful men, unworthy of my friendship. I renounce them for ever, and I promise you I will never see them again.
“Abou Hassan kept firmly to the resolution he had made, and took every prudent precaution to avoid being tempted to break it. He bound himself by an oath never to ask any man who was an inhabitant of Baghdad to eat with him. He then took the strong box which contained the money arising from his rents from the spot where he had laid it by, and put it in the place of the coffers he had just emptied. He resolved to take from it for the expenses of each day a regular sum that should be sufficient to enable him to invite one person to sup with him; and he took a second oath, declaring that the person he entertained should not be an inhabitant of Baghdad, but a stranger who had only tarried in the city one day; and determined that he would send him away the next morning, after giving him only one night’s lodging.
“In carrying out his design Abou Hassan took care every morning to make the necessary provision for this limited hospitality; and towards the close of each day he went and sat at the end of the bridge of Baghdad, and as soon as he saw a stranger, whatever the appearance of the wayfarer, he accosted him with great civility, and invited him to sup and lodge at his house on that, the night of his arrival. He at once informed his guest of the rule he had laid down, and the bounds he had set to his hospitality; and thereupon conducted him to his house.
Abou Hassan and the stranger.
“The repast which Abou Hassan set before his guest was not sumptuous; but it was such as might well satisfy a man, especially as there was no want of good wine. They remained at table till almost midnight; and instead of discoursing to his guest, as is customary, on affairs of state, family matters, or business, he used, on the contrary, to talk gaily and agreeably of indifferent things: he was naturally pleasant, good-humoured, and amusing, and whatever the subject was he knew how to give such a turn to his conversation as would enliven the most melancholy of his visitors.
“When he took leave next morning of his guest, Abou Hassan always said: ‘To whatever place you go, may Allah preserve you from every sort of calamity. When I invited you to sup with me yesterday, I informed you of the rule I had laid down for myself: for which reason you must not take it ill if I tell you that we shall never drink together again, nor shall we ever meet each other any more at my house, or any other place. I have my reasons for this course of conduct, which I need not explain to you. May Allah guard you!’
“Abou Hassan observed this rule with great exactness; he never again noticed or addressed the strangers whom he had once received in his house: when he met them in the streets, the squares, or public assemblies, he appeared not to see them, and even turned from them if they accosted him. In short, he avoided the slightest intercourse with them. And for a long time he continued this course of life. But one day, a little before sunset, as he was seated in his usual manner at the end of the bridge, the caliph Haroun Alraschid appeared; but so completely disguised that none of his subjects could know him.
“Although this monarch had ministers and officers of justice, who performed their duty with great exactness, he wished, nevertheless, to look into the working of everything himself. With this design, as we have already seen, he often went in different disguises through the city of Baghdad. He was even accustomed to visit the high environs; and on this account he made it a custom to go on the first day of every month into the high roads which lead to the city, sometimes choosing one road, and sometimes another. That day, the first of the month, he appeared disguised as a merchant from Moussoul, just landed on the other side of the bridge, and was followed by a strong and sturdy slave.
“As the caliph looked in his disguise like a grave and respectable man, Abou Hassan, who believed him to be a merchant from Moussoul, rose from the place on which he was seated. He saluted the stranger with a bland and courteous air, and addressed him thus: ‘O my master, I congratulate you on your happy arrival; I entreat you will do me the honour to sup with me, and pass the night at my house, that you may rest yourself after the fatigue of your journey.’ And to induce the supposed merchant to comply with his request, he told him, in a few words, the rule he had laid down to himself—of every day receiving, for one night only, the first stranger who presented himself.
“The caliph found something so singular in the whimsical taste of Abou Hassan, that he felt an inclination to know something further of him. Therefore, preserving the character of a merchant, he assured Abou Hassan he could not better reply to so great and unexpected a civility, on his arrival at Baghdad, than by accepting the obliging invitation; and accordingly begged his entertainer to lead the way, declaring himself ready to follow him.
“Abou Hassan, who was ignorant of the high rank of the guest whom chance had just presented to him, treated the caliph as if he had been his equal. He took him to his house, showed him into an apartment very neatly furnished, where he seated him on a sofa in the most honourable place. Supper was ready, and the cloth was spread. Abou Hassan’s mother, who was an adept in the culinary art, sent in three dishes. One was a fine capon, garnished with four fat pullets; the other two dishes were a fat goose and a ragout of pigeons. This was the whole provision; but the dishes were well chosen, and excellent of their kind.
“Abou Hassan placed himself at table opposite his guest; and the caliph and he began eating with a good appetite, helping themselves to what they liked best, without speaking and without drinking, according to the custom of their country. When they had done, the slave of the caliph brought them water to wash their hands, while the mother of Abou Hassan took away the dishes, and brought the dessert, which consisted of a variety of the fruits then in season, such as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, and several kinds of cakes made of dried almonds. As the evening closed in they lighted the candles; and then Abou Hassan brought out bottles and glasses, and took care that his mother provided supper for the caliph’s slave.
“When the pretended merchant of Moussoul and Abou Hassan were again seated at table, the latter, before he touched the fruit, took a cup, and filling it for himself, held it out in his hand, ‘O my master,’ said he to the caliph, whom he took to be only a merchant, ‘you know as well as I do that the cock never drinks till he has called his hens about him to come and drink with him; therefore I invite you to follow my example. I know not what your sentiments may be; but, for my own part, it seems to me that a man who hates wine, and would fain be thought wise, is certainly foolish. Let such men deem themselves wise with their stupid and melancholy disposition, but let us enjoy ourselves; I see pleasure sparkling in the cup, and it will assuredly yield much pleasure to those who empty it.’
“While Abou Hassan was drinking, the caliph took hold of the cup that was intended for him, and replied: ‘I agree with you. You are what may be called a jolly fellow. I love you for your humour, and I expect you will fill my cup to the brim as you have filled yours.’
“When Abou Hassan had drunk, he accordingly filled the cup which the caliph held out; ‘Taste it, my friend,’ said he, ‘you will find it excellent. ’ ‘I have no doubt of that,’ returned the caliph, laughing; ‘no doubt a man of discernment like you knows how to procure the best of everything. ’
“While the caliph was drinking, Abou Hassan observed, ‘any man who looks at you may observe at first sight that you are one of those who have seen the world, and know how to enjoy it. If my house,’ added he, quoting some lines of Arabian poetry, ‘were capable of any feeling, and could be alive to the pleasure of receiving you within its walls, it would loudly express its joy, and throwing itself at your feet, would cry out, “Ah! what delight, what happiness is it, to see myself honoured with the presence of a person so respectable, and at the same time so condescending, as the man who now deigns to come under my roof!” In short, my master, my joy is complete, and I count the day fortunate on which I have met with a man of your merit.’
“These sallies of Abou Hassan very much diverted the caliph, who was naturally of a merry disposition, and took pleasure in inducing him to drink, that by means of the gaiety which wine would excite, he might become better acquainted with him. To engage him in conversation he asked him his name, and what was his employment, and how he passed his time. ‘O stranger,’ replied his host, ‘my name is Abou Hassan; I have lost my father, who was a merchant, not indeed a very rich man, but one of those who, at Baghdad, manage to live very much at their ease. At his death he left me an inheritance sufficient to support me creditably in the rank I held. As he had kept me very strictly during his lifetime, and at the time of his death I had passed the best part of my youth under great restraint, I wished to try to make up for all the time I considered I had lost.
“ ‘Nevertheless,’ continued Abou Hassan, ‘I regulated my proceedings with more prudence than is practised by young people in general. They usually give themselves up to intemperance in a very thoughtless way; they indulge in every dissipation till, reduced to their last sequin, they exercise a forced abstinence during the remainder of their life. In order to avoid future distress, I divided my property into two parts; the one consisted of rents, the other of ready money. I devoted the ready money to the enjoyments I purposed indulging in; and made a firm resolution not to touch my rents. I brought together a company of people I knew, men nearly of my own age; and, with the ready money which I freely lavished, I every day gave the most splendid entertainments, living with my friends in luxury which pleased us all well. But this did not last long; at the end of a year I found my purse empty, and at once all my convivial friends disappeared. I made it my business to call upon each of them in turn; I represented to each the wretched state to which I was reduced, but not one of them would give me any assistance. I therefore renounced their friendship; and, reducing my expenses within the limits of my income, I determined that in future I would entertain no one at all, except every day one stranger whom I should meet on his arrival at Baghdad; and I made it a condition that I entertained him for that day only. I have told you the rest, and I thank my good fortune which to day has thrown in my way a stranger of so much merit.’
“Very well, satisfied with this explanation, the caliph said to Abou Hassan, ‘I cannot sufficiently commend the step you took, and the caution with which you acted, when you entered upon your free course of life. You conducted yourself very differently from young men in general; and I respect you still more for keeping your resolution with so much steadiness as you have shown. You walked in a very slippery path; and I cannot sufficiently wonder, after you had spent all your ready money, that you had the moderation to confine yourself within the income arising from your rents; and that you do not mortgage your estate. To tell you what I think of the matter, I firmly believe you are the only man of pleasure that ever did, or ever will, conduct himself in such a manner. In short, I declare that I envy your good fortune. You are the happiest man on earth, thus to have every day the company of a respectable person, with whom you can converse agreeably, and to whom you give an opportunity of telling the world the good reception you have afforded him. But we forget ourselves. Neither you nor I perceive how long we have been talking without drinking; come, drink, and I will pledge you.’ The caliph and Abou Hassan continued drinking a long time, and conversing most agreeably together.
“The night was now far advanced; and the caliph, pretending to be much fatigued with his day’s journey, said to Abou Hassan that he was much inclined to go to rest. ‘I should be loth,’ added he, ‘that, on my account, you should lose any of your sleep. Before we part—for perhaps I shall be gone to-morrow from your house before you are awake—let me have the satisfaction of saying how sensible I am of the civility, the good cheer, and the hospitality with which you have treated me in so obliging a manner. I am only anxious to know in what way I can best prove my gratitude. I entreat you to inform me, and you shall find that I am not an ungrateful man. It is hardly possible that a person like you should not have some business that might be done, some want that should be supplied, some wish that is yet ungratified. Open your heart to me, and speak freely. Though I am but a merchant as you see, I am in a position, either alone, or with the help of my friends, to serve my friends.’
“At these offers of the caliph, whom Abou Hassan all along supposed to be a merchant, he replied, ‘My good friend, I am thoroughly convinced that is not out of mere compliment you address me in this generous manner. But, upon the word of a man of honour, I can assure you that I have no distress, no business, no want; that I have nothing to ask of any one. I have not the smallest degree of ambition, as I have already told you, and am perfectly contented with my lot; so that I have only to thank you, as well for your kind offers as for the kindness you have shown in conferring upon me the honour of taking a poor refreshment at my house.
“ ‘I will say, nevertheless,’ continued Abou Hassan, ‘that one thing gives me some concern, though it does not very materially disturb my repose. You know the city of Baghdad has several divisions, and that in every division there is a mosque. Each mosque has an Iman, who assembles all the people of the division at the accustomed hours to join with him in prayer. The Iman of this division is a very old man, of an austere countenance; he is a complete hypocrite, if ever there was one in the world. He assembles in council four other dotards, my neighbours, very much of the same character with himself, and they meet regularly every day at his house. When they get together there is no sort of slander, calumny, and mischief which they do not raise and propagate against me, and against the whole quarter; they disturb our quiet, and stir up dissen sions among us. They make themselves formidable to some, and threaten others. They wish, in short, to be our masters, and desire that each of us should behave himself according to their caprice, while, at the same time, they cannot govern themselves. To say the truth, I cannot bear to see them busying themselves with everything except the Koran, and it angers me that they cannot let their neighbours live in peace.’
“ ‘So then,’ replied the caliph, ‘you seem desirous of finding means to check this abuse?’ ‘I am, indeed,’ returned Abou Hassan; ‘and the only thing I would beg of Heaven for this purpose is, that I might for one day be caliph in the room of the Commander of the Faithful, our sovereign lord and master, Haroun Alraschid.’ ‘What would you do,’ demanded the caliph, ‘if that should happen?’ ‘One very important thing would I do,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘which would give satisfaction to all good people. I would order that one hundred strokes on the soles of the feet be given to each of the four old men, and four hundred to the Iman himself, to teach them that it is not their business to disturb and vex their neighbours.’
“The caliph was much amused by the conceit of Abou Hassan; and, as he had naturally a turn for adventures, it suggested to him a desire to divert himself at his host’s expense in a very extraordinary manner. ‘Your wish pleases me the more,’ said the caliph, ‘because I see it springs from an upright heart, and is the sentiment of a person who cannot bear that the malice of wicked men should go unpunished. I should have great pleasure in procuring its fulfilment, and perhaps it is not impossible that what you have imagined may come to pass. I feel certain that the caliph would readily trust his power in your hands for twenty-four hours if he only knew of your good intention, and the excellent use you would make of the opportunity. Although I am but a merchant, and a stranger, I am nevertheless not without a degree of interest which may possibly forward this business.’
Abou Hassan falls asleep.
“ ‘I see plainly,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘that you are diverting yourself with my foolish fancy—and the caliph would laugh at it also if he came to hear of such a ridiculous whim. Still, it might have the effect of inducing him to inquire into the conduct of the Iman and his counsellors, and order them to be punished.’
“ ‘I am by no means laughing at you,’ replied the caliph; ‘Heaven forbid that I should cherish so unbecoming a thought towards a person like you, who have entertained me so handsomely, though I was quite a stranger to you; and I can assure you the caliph himself would not laugh at you. But let us make an end of this conversation; it is near midnight, and time to go to bed.’
“ ‘Then,’ said Abou Hassan, ‘we will cut short our discourse, and I will not prevent you from taking your repose: but, as there is a little wine still left in the bottle, I pray you let us finish that, and then we will retire. The only thing I have to recommend is, when you leave the house to-morrow morning, if I should not have risen, that you would not leave the door open, but that you would trouble yourself to shut it after you.’ This the caliph faithfully promised to do.
“While Abou Hassan was speaking, the caliph laid hands on the bottle and the two cups. He helped himself first, and made Abou Hassan understand that he drank to him a cup of thanks. When he had done so, he slily threw into Abou Hassan’s cup a little powder, which he had with him, and poured upon it the remainder of the wine from the bottle. Presenting it to Abou Hassan, he said, ‘you have had the trouble of helping me throughout the evening; the least I can do, in return, is to spare you that trouble now at our parting cup: I beg you will take this from my hand, and drink this time for my sake.’
“Abou Hassan took the cup; and the better to prove to his guest with how much pleasure he accepted the honour done him, he swallowed the whole contents at a draught. But scarcely had he set down the cup on the table, when the powder began to take effect. He instantly fell so soundly asleep, and his head dropped almost upon his knees so suddenly, that the caliph could not help laughing. The slave who attended the caliph had returned as soon as he had supped, and had been for some time on the spot, ready to obey his master’s orders. ‘Take this man upon your shoulders,’ said the caliph to him, ‘but be careful to notice the spot where this house stands, that you may bring him back hither when I shall bid you.’
“The caliph, followed by his slave, who bore Abou Hassan on his shoulders, went out of the house; but he did not close the door as Abou Hassan had requested him to do. Indeed, he left it open on purpose. When he arrived at the palace he entered by a private door, and ordered the slave to carry Abou Hassan to his own apartment, where all the officers of the bed-chamber were in waiting. ‘Undress this man,’ said he to them, ‘and lay him in my bed; I will afterwards tell you my intention.’
“The officers undressed Abou Hassan, clothed him in the caliph’s night dress, and put him to bed, as they were ordered. No one in the palace had yet retired to rest. The caliph ordered that all the ladies, and all the other officers of the court should be summoned; and when they were all in his presence, he said; ‘I desire that all those who usually come to me when I rise shall not fail in their attendance here to-morrow morning upon this man, whom you see asleep in my bed; and that upon his waking each shall perform the same services for him which are usually performed for me. I desire also that the same respect be observed towards him that is shown to my own person; and that he be obeyed in all that he shall command. He shall be refused nothing he may demand. All his orders are to be fulfilled, nor is he to be contradicted in any desire he shall express. On every occasion, where it shall be proper to speak to him or to answer him, let him be always treated as the Commander of the Faithful. In one word, I require that no more attention be paid to me by any one all the time you are about him than if he were really what I am, caliph and Commander of the Faithful. Above all, let the utmost care be taken that the deception is carried through, even to the most trifling circumstance. ’
“The officers and ladies, who soon perceived the caliph had some jest in hand, answered only by a low obeisance; and from that moment all of them prepared to contribute everything in their power, each in his or her peculiar function, to support the deception with exactness.
“On his return to the palace the caliph had sent the first officer in waiting to summon the grand vizier Giafar, and the vizier had just arrived. The caliph said to him: ‘Giafar, I sent to you to warn you not to seem astonished when, at the audience to-morrow morning, you shall see the man who is now asleep on my bed seated upon my throne, and dressed in my robes of state. Address him in the same form you employ towards me, and pay him the same respect you are in the habit of paying to me; treat him exactly as if he were the Commander of the Faithful. Wait upon him, and execute punctually all his orders, just as if they were mine. He will most probably make large presents, and you will be entrusted with the distribution of them: fulfil all his commands in this matter, even to the hazard of exhausting my treasury. Remember also to warn my emirs, my ushers, and all the officers not within the palace, that to-morrow at the public audience they shall pay him the same honours they accord to my person, and bid them act their parts so well that he shall be thoroughly deceived, and that the amusement I propose to give myself may not in the smallest particular be broken. You may now retire; I have nothing further to order; but be careful to give me in this matter all the satisfaction which I demand.’
“After the grand vizier had retired, the caliph passed on to another apartment; and as he went to bed he imparted to Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, the orders which were to be executed, so that everything might succeed in the manner intended; for the caliph wished both to fulfil the wish of Abou Hassan, and to see the use he would make of the royal power and authority during the short time he would possess them. Above all, he enjoined Mesrour not to fail in coming to call him at the usual hour, and before Abou Hassan should be awake, because he wished to be present at all that might take place.
“Mesrour awakened the caliph punctually at the time he was ordered. As soon as Haroun Alraschid had entered the room where Abou Hassan slept, he placed himself in an adjoining closet, whence he could see through a lattice all that took place, without being himself seen. All the officers and all the ladies who were to be present when Abou Hassan rose came in at the same time, and were posted in their accustomed places, according to their rank, and in profound silence, just as if the caliph himself had been about to rise, and they were waiting ready to perform the duties of their various offices.
“As the day already began to break, and it was time to get up for early prayer before sunrise, the officer who was nearest Abou Hassan’s pillow applied to the sleeper’s nose a small piece of sponge dipped in vinegar.
“Abou Hassan sneezed and turned his head, without opening his eyes. Thereupon his head sank back on the pillow. Presently he opened his eyes; and, as far as the dim light permitted him, he saw himself in a large and magnificent chamber, superbly furnished, the ceiling painted with various figures, and elegant borders, and ornamented throughout with vases of massive gold, and with tapestry and carpets of the richest kind. He found himself surrounded by young ladies of enchanting beauty, many of whom had different musical instruments, which they were preparing to play upon; and by black eunuchs richly dressed, and standing ranged in attitudes of deep humility and respect. As he cast his eyes upon the coverlid of the bed, he saw it was of crimson and gold brocade, ornamented with pearls and diamonds; by the bed side lay a dress of the same materials, ornamented in similar style; and near it, on a cushion, a caliph’s cap.
“At the sight of all this splendour Abou Hassan was inexpressibly astonished and bewildered. He looked upon the whole as a dream—but a dream of so charming a nature that he hoped it might prove a reality. ‘Truly,’ said he to himself, ‘it seems I am caliph; but,’ added he, after a pause, on recovering himself, ‘I must not deceive myself, this is a dream, merely an effect of the wish I formed in conversation with my guest—’ so he shut his eyes again as if he intended to go to sleep.
“But at that moment an eunuch drew near. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ said he, respectfully, ‘your majesty will be pleased not to sleep again. It is time to rise for early prayer. The day begins to break.’ Abou Hassan, very much astonished at this address, said again to himself, ‘Am I awake, or do I sleep? No, I am certainly asleep—’ continued he, keeping his eyes still closed—‘I must not doubt it.’
“O Commander of the Faithful,’ resumed the eunuch, who observed that Abou Hassan gave no answer, and showed no signs of intending to rouse himself, ‘your majesty will allow me to repeat that it is time to rise, unless your majesty means to disregard the hour of morning prayer, which you are accustomed to attend; and the sun is even now appearing.’
“ ‘I was deceiving myself,’ said Abou Hassan, ‘I am not asleep, I am awake. Those who sleep never hear anything; and I certainly hear that I am spoken to.’ Then he opened his eyes again. It was now daylight, and he saw distinctly what he had before only imperfectly beheld. He sat up in his bed with a cheerful countenance, like a man much rejoicing at finding himself in a situation very far above his rank; and the caliph, who watched him without being himself seen, penetrated his thoughts with great satisfaction.
“Then the beautiful ladies of the palace bowed down before Abou Hassan, with their faces towards the ground; and those among them who had instruments of music saluted him on his awaking with a concert of soft-toned flutes, hautbois, lutes, and various other instruments. This so enchanted him, and raised him to such an excess of delight, that he knew not where he was, and almost lost consciousness. He recurred, nevertheless, to his first thought, and again doubted whether what he saw and heard was a dream or reality. He covered his eyes with his hands, and bending his head repeated to himself, ‘What does all this mean? Where am I? What has happened to me? What is this palace? Whence come these eunuchs, these gallant handsome officers, these beauteous damsels, and these enchanting musicians? Is it possible that I should not be able to distinguish whether I am dreaming, or whether I have all my senses about me!’ At last he took his hands from his face; and opening his eyes to look up, he saw the sun darting its first rays through the window of the chamber in which he lay.
“At this moment Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, came in. He bowed down, with his face to the ground, before Abou Hassan, and as he rose said, ‘Commander of the Faithful, your majesty will permit me to represent that you have not been accustomed to rise so late, nor have you ever suffered the hour of morning prayer to pass unregarded. Unless your majesty has had a bad night, or is otherwise indisposed, you will now be pleased to mount your throne, to hold your council, and to give audience as usual. The generals of your armies, the governors of your provinces, and the other great officers of your court, await the moment when the door of the council chamber shall be opened.
“At this address of Mesrour, Abou Hassan was, as it were, convinced against his own judgment that he was not asleep, and that the splendours which he saw around him were not a dream. He was much perplexed; he felt bewildered at the position he was in, and uncertain what part he should take. At length he fixed his eyes upon Mesrour, and, in a serious tone, demanded of him, ‘Whom are you addressing? Who is it that you call Commander of the Faithful? I know you not; you must certainly take me for some other person.’
Abou Hassan as caliph.
“Any man but Mesrour would have been disconcerted at Abou Hassan’s questions; but, instructed by the caliph, he played his part wonderfully well. ‘O my most honoured lord and master,’ cried he, ‘your majesty surely talks thus to me to-day in order to try me! Is not your majesty the Commander of the Faithful, the monarch of the world from the east to the west? and upon earth vicar of the prophet sent from Allah, who is master of all, both in Heaven and in earth? Your poor slave Mesrour has not forgotten all this, after the many years during which he has had the honour and happiness of paying his duty and services to your majesty! He would think himself the most miserable of men if he were to lose your good opinion. He most humbly entreats your majesty to have the goodness to restore him to your favour, and humbly ventures to think some disagreeable dream has disturbed your majesty’s repose.’
“Abou Hassan burst into such a violent fit of laughter at this speech of Mesrour’s that he fell back on his pillow, to the great amusement of the real caliph, who would have laughed as loudly as did the pretended one, but for the fear of putting an end to the pleasant scene which he had determined to have exhibited before him.
“After he had laughed till he was out of breath, Abou Hassan sat up again in his bed, and speaking to a little eunuch as black as Mesrour, cried, ‘Hark ye, tell me who I am.’ ‘O mighty sovereign,’ said the little eunuch, in a very humble manner, ‘your majesty is the Commander of the Faithful, and vicar upon earth of the Lord of both worlds.’ ‘Thou art a little liar, thou sooty-face!’ replied Abou Hassan.
“He then called one of the ladies who was nearer to him than the rest. ‘Come hither,’ said he, as he held out his hand towards her, ‘take the end of my finger and bite it, O thou fair one, that I may feel whether I am asleep or awake.’
“The damsel, who knew the caliph from his hiding place saw all that was going on, was delighted with an opportunity of showing how well she could play her part where the business was to afford her master amusement. She came towards Abou Hassan with the most serious air imaginable, and closing her teeth upon the end of his finger, which he had held out to her, she bit it pretty sharply.
“Abou Hassan drew back his hand in a hurry. ‘I am not asleep,’ he cried, I am most assuredly not asleep. By what miracle have I become caliph in one night? This is the most surprising, the most marvellous thing in the world.’ Speaking again to the same damsel he resumed, ‘Now, in the name of Allah, in whom you put your trust, as I also do, I beseech you tell me exactly the truth. Am I really and truly the Commander of the Faithful?’ ‘Your majesty,’ replied she, ‘is in truth and actually the Commander of the Faithful; and we, who are your slaves, are all amazed to think what can make your majesty doubt the fact.’ ‘You lie.’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘I know very well who I am.’
“As the chief of the eunuchs perceived that Abou Hassan meant to rise, he offered his hand to assist him in getting out of bed. As soon as the pretended caliph stood up, the whole chamber resounded with the salutation which all the officers and ladies pronounced with acclamation in these words: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, in the name of Allah, we wish your majesty good morning.’
“ ‘Oh, Heavens!’ cried Abou Hassan, ‘what miracle is this! Last night was I Abou Hassan, and this morning I am the Commander of the Faithful! I cannot at all understand this very sudden and surprising change.’ The officers whose business it was to dress the caliph speedily performed their office. When this was accomplished, as the other officers, the eunuchs, and the ladies, had ranged themselves in two lines, extending to the door through which he was to go into the council chamber, Mesrour led the way, and Abou Hassan followed. The arras was drawn back, and the door opened by an usher. Mesrour entered the council chamber, and went on before Abou Hassan quite to the foot of the throne, where he stopped to assist him in ascending it. He supported the caliph by placing his hand under his shoulder on one side, while another officer, who followed, assisted him in the same way on the other.
“Thus Abou Hassan sat on the royal throne amidst the acclamations of the attendants, who wished him all kinds of happiness and prosperity; and looking to the right and left he saw the officers of the guards ranged in two rows in exact military order.
“Directly Abou Hassan entered the council chamber, the caliph quitted the closet in which he had been concealed, and passed to another closet from whence he could see and hear all that took place in the council when the grand vizier presided there instead of him, if at any time it was inconvenient for him to be there in person. He was not a little diverted to see Abou Hassan representing him upon the throne, and presiding with as much gravity as he could himself have shown.
“When Abou Hassan had taken his seat, the grand vizier, who was present, prostrated himself at the foot of the throne, and, as he rose, said in a solemn voice: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, may Allah pour upon your majesty all the blessings of this life, and receive you into paradise in the next, and cast your enemies into the flames of hell!’
“After all that had happened to him since he awoke, and what he had just heard from the mouth of the grand vizier, Abou Hassan no longer doubted that his wish had been fulfilled, and that he was really the caliph. So without examining how, or by what means this unexpected transformation had been brought about, he immediately began to exercise his power. Looking at the grand vizier with profound gravity, he asked him whether he had anything to report.
“O Commander of the Faithful, replied the grand vizier, ‘the emirs, the viziers, and the other officers who belong to your majesty’s council, are at the door, anxiously waiting till you shall give them permission that they may enter, and pay their accustomed respects.’ Abou Hassan immediately gave the word to open the door, and the grand vizier, turning round, said to the chief usher who stood expectant, ‘O chief usher, the Commander of the Faithful enjoins you to do your duty.’
“The door was opened; and at once the viziers, the emirs, and the principal officers of the court, all in their magnificent habits of ceremony, entered in exact order. They came forward to the foot of the throne, and paid their respects to Abou Hassan, each according to his rank, bending the knee, and prostrating themselves with their faces to the ground, just as they would have done in presence of the caliph himself. They saluted him by the name of Commander of the Faithful, according to the instructions given by the grand vizier. They then took their places in turn when each had gone through this ceremony. When this was ended, and they had all returned to their places, there was a profound silence.
“Then the grand vizier, standing before the throne, began to make his report of various matters from a number of papers which he held in his hand. This report was a matter of routine, and of little consequence. Nevertheless the caliph was in constant admiration of Abou Hassan’s conduct; for the new caliph never was at a loss, nor appeared at all embarrassed. He gave just decisions upon the questions which came before him; for his good sense suggested whether he was to grant or refuse the demands that were made.
“Before the vizier had finished his report, Abou Hassan caught sight of the chief officer of the police, whom he had often seen sitting in his place. ‘Stay a moment,’ said he, interrupting the grand vizier, ‘I have an order of importance to give immediately to the officer of the police.’
“This officer, who had his eyes fixed upon Abou Hassan, and who perceived that he looked at him in particular, hearing his name mentioned, rose immediately from his place, and gravely approached the throne, at the foot of which he prostrated himself with his face towards the ground. ‘O officer,’ said Abou Hassan to him, when he had raised himself, ‘go immediately, without loss of time, to such a street in such a quarter of the town,’ and he mentioned the name of his own street. ‘In this street is a mosque, where you will find the Iman and four old grey-beards. Seize their persons, and let the four old men have each a hundred strokes on the feet, and let the Iman have four hundred. Thereupon you shall cause all the five to be clothed in rags and mounted each on a camel, with their faces turned towards the tail. Thus equipped, you shall have them led through the different quarters of the town preceded by a crier, who shall proclaim with a loud voice, “This is the punishment for those who meddle with affairs which do not concern them, and who make it their business to sow dissension among neighbouring families, and to cause strife and mischief.” I command you, moreover, that you enjoin them to leave the part of the town in which they now live, and forbid them ever to set foot again in the place whence they are driven. While your deputy is leading them in the procession I have just ordered, you must return to report to me the execution of my commands.’
“The officer of police placed his hand upon his head, to signify that he was ready to execute the order he had received, and should expect to lose his head if he failed in any point. He prostrated himself a second time before the throne, then rose and went away.
“The order thus judiciously given gave the caliph great satisfaction; for he was now convinced that Abou Hassan had been in earnest in wishing to punish the Iman and his four old counsellors, when he declared that was the original motive for his wishing that he might have the caliph’s power for a single day.
“The grand vizier went on with his report, which he had very nearly ended, when the officer of the police presented himself to give an account of what he had done. He approached the throne, and, after the usual ceremony of prostration, said to Abou Hassan: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I found the Iman and the four old men in the mosque of which your majesty spoke, and to prove that I have duly executed the orders I received from your majesty, I bring a written account of the proceeding, signed by many principal people of that part of the town who were witnesses. ’ So saying, he took from his bosom a paper, and gave it to the pretended caliph.
“Abou Hassan took the paper and read it from beginning to end, even to the names of the witnesses, all of whom were people whom he knew; and when he had finished, he said with a smile to the officer of the police: ‘You have done well; I am satisfied and pleased; resume your place.’ And he added to himself, with an air of satisfaction, ‘Hypocrites who undertake to comment upon my actions, and think it wrong that I should receive and entertain respectable people at my house, richly deserve this disgrace and punishment.’ The caliph, who watched him, saw into his mind and highly approved of the proceedings of his substitute.
“After that Abou Hassan addressed the grand vizier: ‘Let the grand treasurer,’ said he, ‘make up a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and go with it into the quarter of the city whither I sent the officer of the police, and give it to the mother of one Abou Hassan, called the Reveller. The man is well known throughout that quarter by that name; any man will show you his house. Go, and return quickly.’
“The grand vizier Giafar put his hand to his head to mark his readiness to obey; and after prostrating himself before the throne, departed, and went to the grand treasurer, who gave him the purse. He ordered one of the slaves who attended him to take it, and proceed to convey it to Abou Hassan’s mother. On coming to her house, he said the caliph had sent her this present, and departed without explaining himself farther. Abou Hassan’s mother was much surprised at receiving the purse, as she could not conceive what should induce the caliph to make her so handsome a present; for she knew not what was passing at the palace.
“During the absence of the grand vizier, the officer of the police made a report of many matters in his department; and this lasted until the vizier returned. As soon as Giafar reached the council-chamber, and had assured Abou Hassan that he had executed his commission, Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, who, after he had conducted Abou Hassan to the throne had passed into the inner apartments of the palace, came back and made a sign to the viziers, emirs, and all the officers, that the council was ended, and that every one might retire. They accordingly withdrew, after taking their leave by making a profound reverence at the foot of the throne, in the same order as they observed upon their entrance. There then remained with Abou Hassan only the officers of the caliph’s guard and the grand vizier.
“Abou Hassan did not continue long on the throne of the caliph. He descended from it as he had mounted it, with the assistance of Mesrour and of another officer of the eunuchs. Each of his companions took him by an arm and attended him to the apartment in which he was at first. Then Mesrour, walking before him to show him the way, led him into an inner room, where a table was set out. The door of the apartment was open, and a great many eunuchs ran to tell the female musicians that the pretended caliph was coming. They immediately began a very harmonious concert of vocal and instrumental music, which delighted Abou Hassan to such a degree that he was transported with satisfaction and joy, and was quite at a loss what to think of all he saw and heard. ‘If this is a dream,’ said he to himself, ‘it is a dream of a long continuance. But it cannot be a dream,’ continued he, ‘I am perfectly sensible, I make use of my understanding—I see—I walk—I hear. Be it what it may, I am in the hands of Heaven, and must be content. Still, I cannot possibly believe that I am not the Commander of the Faithful; for none but the Commander of the Faithful could be surrounded with the magnificence I find here. The honours and respect which have been, and are still paid to me, and the rapid execution of my orders, are clear proofs of it.’
“Abou Hassan was at last convinced that he was the caliph and the Commander of the Faithful; and this conviction was confirmed in him when he found himself in a very large and richly furnished saloon. Gold shone on all sides, intermixed with the most vivid colours. Seven bands of female musicians, all women of the most exquisite beauty, were posted around this saloon. Seven golden lustres, with the same number of branches, hung from different parts of the ceiling, which was painted in a beautiful pattern—a skilful mixture of gold and azure. In the midst was a table on which gleamed seven large dishes of massive gold, which perfumed the room with the odour of the richest spices used in seasoning the several delicacies. Seven young and very beautiful damsels, dressed in habits of the richest stuffs and most brilliant colours, stood round the table. Each held a fan in her hand, which was for the purpose of refreshing their lord the caliph while he sat at table.
“If ever mortal was delighted, that mortal was Abou Hassan when he entered this magnificent saloon. At every step he paused to look about him, and contemplate at his leisure all the wonderful things which were presented to his view. Each moment he turned from side to side in sheer amazement, to the high delight of the caliph, who watched him with the utmost attention. At length he walked forward towards the middle of the room and took his place at the table. Immediately the seven beautiful damsels began agitating the air with their fans to refresh the new caliph. He looked at them all in succession; and after admiring the graceful ease with which they performed their office, he said to them, with a gracious smile, that he supposed one of them at a time would be able to give him all the air he wanted; and he desired that the other six should place themselves at the table with him, three on his right and three on his left, and give him their company. The table was round; and Abou Hassan placed these fair companions in such a manner at it that whichever way he looked his eyes rested on objects of beauty and delight.
Abou Hassan and the seven damsels.
“At his behest the six damsels placed themselves round the table. But Abou Hassan perceived that out of respect to him they forbore to eat. This induced him to help them himself, inviting and pressing them to eat in the most obliging manner. He desired to know their names, and each in turn replied to his questions.
“Their names were Neck-of-Alabaster, Lip-of-Coral, Fair-as-Moonlight, Bright-as-Sunshine, Eye’s-desire, Heart’s-delight. He put the same question to the seventh, who held the fan, and she answered that her name was Sugar-Cane. The agreeable things he said to each of them on the subject of their names showed that he had abundance of wit; and this display of his powers greatly heightened the esteem which the caliph had already entertained for him.
“When the damsels saw that Abou Hassan had ceased eating, one of them said to the eunuchs who were in waiting: ‘The Commander of the Faithful desires to walk into the saloon where the dessert is prepared; let water be brought.’ They all rose from the table at the same time; and one took from the hands of the eunuchs a golden basin, another a pitcher of the same metal, the third a napkin, and these they presented on their knees to Abou Hassan, who was still sitting, that he might have an opportunity of washing his hands. Thereupon he rose; and at the same moment an eunuch drew back the arras, and opened the door of another saloon into which he was to go.
“Mesrour, who had not quitted Abou Hassan, walked before him, and conducted him into a saloon as large as that he had left, but adorned with a variety of splendid pictures, and ornamented in quite a different manner, with vases of gold and silver. The carpets and other furniture were of the most costly kind. In this saloon there were also seven other bands of female musicians, different from the former, and these seven choirs of music began a new concert the moment Abou Hassan appeared. This saloon was furnished with seven other large lustres; and on the table in the middle stood seven large golden basins, in which every sort of fruit in season, the finest, best chosen, and most exquisite was piled up in pyramids; and round the table stood seven other young women more beautiful than the first, each with a fan in her hand.
“These new splendours raised in Abou Hassan’s mind a still greater admiration than he had felt before; and he paused for a moment manifesting the deepest surprise and astonishment. At length he reached the table, and when he was seated at it and had surveyed the seven damsels very leisurely one after another, with a sort of embarrassment which showed he could not tell to whom among them to give the preference, he ordered them all to lay aside their fans and to sit down and eat with him, saying, ‘that the heat was not so troublesome to him as to make him require their services.’
“When the damsels had taken their places on either side of Abou Hassan, he at once proceeded to inquire their names; and he found that they had different names from those of the seven in the former saloon, but that their names also marked some excellence of mind or body by which they were distinguished from each other. This amused him extremely; and he showed his wit in the lively and appropriate speeches he used when he offered to each, in turn, some fruit of the different sorts before him. To her who was called Heart’s-chain he gave a fig, saying: ‘Eat this for my sake, and make the chains lighter which I have worn from the moment I first saw you.’ And giving some grapes to Soul’s-grief, he said, ‘Take these grapes upon condition that you ease the grief I endure from the love with which you have inspired me;’ and he addressed a similar compliment to each of the other damsels. By his behaviour on this occasion Abou Hassan made the caliph, who was much pleased with all he did and all he said, more and more delighted; for Haroun Alraschid rejoiced greatly at having found in Abou Hassan a man who could so agreeably amuse him, and at the same time furnish him with the means of knowing his character more thoroughly.
When Abou Hassan had eaten of those sorts of fruit on the table which he liked best, he rose; and immediately Mesrour, who never quitted him, again walked before him, and led him into a third saloon, furnished, decorated, and enriched in the same magnificent manner as the two former.
“There Abou Hassan found seven other bands of music, and seven other damsels, waiting round a table, set out with seven golden basins containing liquid sweetmeats of various sorts and colours. After stopping to look at the multitude of new objects for admiration he encountered on all sides, he walked up to the table amidst the loud harmony of the seven bands of music, which ceased when he had taken his seat. At his command these seven damsels also took their places at the table with him. And as he could not dispense these liquids with the same grace, and with the same polite attention he had shown in distributing the fruits, he begged that the ladies would themselves make choice of such as they liked best. He asked their names too; and he was not less pleased with these than with those of the former damsels; for the variety of their appellations furnished him with new matter for conversing with the ladies, and addressing them with tender expressions, which gave them as much pleasure as this new proof of Abou Hassan’s wit gave the caliph, who did not lose a word that he said.
“The day was drawing towards a close when Abou Hassan was conducted into a fourth saloon. This apartment was decorated like the rest with the most costly and most magnificent furniture. Here, too, were seven grand lustres of gold with lighted tapers; and the whole room was illuminated by a vast number of other lights, which had a novel and wonderful effect. Abou Hassan found in this last saloon, as he had found in all the others, seven bands of female musicians. These began to play a strain of a gayer cast than had been performed in the other saloons, and one which seemed intended to inspire cheerfulness and mirth. Here, too, he saw seven other damsels, who stood in waiting round a table. On this table glittered seven basins of gold, filled with cakes and pastry, with all sorts of dry sweetmeats, and with a number of other compounds, provocative of drinking. But Abou Hassan observed here what he had not seen in the other saloons; this was a side-board, upon which were seven large flagons of silver filled with the most exquisite wines; and seven glasses of the finest rock crystal, of excellent workmanship, stood near each of these flagons.
In the three first saloons Abou Hassan had drunk only water, in compliance with the custom observed at Baghdad, equally by the common people, by the upper ranks, and by the court of the caliph, namely, to drink wine only at night. All those who drink it before evening are looked upon as dissipated persons; and they dare not appear in the day time. This custom is the more to be commended, as during the day a man requires a clear head to transact business; and, again, as wine is not taken till night at Baghdad, drunken people are never seen making disturbances in open day in the streets of that city.
“Abou Hassan entered this fourth saloon and walked up to the table. When he was seated he remained a long time in a kind of ecstasy of admiration at the seven damsels who stood about him, and whom he thought still more lovely than those he had seen in the other saloons. He had great desire to know the name of each of them, but as the loud sound of the music, and especially of the cymbals, which were used in all the bands, did not allow his voice to be heard, he clapped his hands to put an end to the performance; and instantly there was a profound silence.
“Thereupon he took the hand of the damsel who was nearest him on the right. He made her sit down, and after presenting her with a rich cake, he asked her name. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ answered the damsel, ‘I am called Cluster-of-Pearls.’ ‘You could not have a better name,’ cried Abou Hassan, ‘or one more expressive of your charms. Without prejudice to those who gave you this name, I must think your beautiful teeth, certainly surpass the finest-coloured pearls in the world. Cluster-of-Pearls,’ added he, ‘since that is your name, do me the favour take a glass, fill it, and let me drink it from your fair hand.’
“The damsel went instantly to the side-board, and came back with a glass of wine, which she presented to Abou Hassan with all imaginable grace. He took it with pleasure, and looking at her tenderly said, in a voice of admiration, ‘Cluster-of-Pearls, I drink your health; I desire you would fill the glass for yourself and pledge me in return.’ She quickly ran to the side-board and returned with a glass in her hand; but before she drank Cluster-of-Pearls sung a song, which delighted her hearer not less from its novelty than by the charm of her voice, which was still more fascinating.
When Abou Hassan had drunk he took from the basins a supply of what he liked best, and presented it to another damsel, whom he desired to come and sit near him. He enquired her name also. She answered, that her name was Morning-Star. ‘Your fine eyes,’ resumed he, ‘are brighter and more brilliant than the star whose name you bear. Go, and do me the favour to bring me a glass of wine;’ she complied in a moment, with the best grace possible. He paid a similar compliment to the third damsel who was called Light-of-Day, as well as to all the rest, who each presented him wine which he drank, to the high delight of the caliph.
“When Abou Hassan had emptied as many glasses as there were damsels, Cluster-of-Pearls, to whom he had first spoken, went to the side-board and took a glass which she filled with wine, after having thrown into it a little of the powder which the caliph had made use of the day before. Presently she came and presented it to him with these words: ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ I entreat your majesty, by my anxiety for the preservation of your health, to take this glass of wine, and before you drink it to hear a song which I dare flatter myself will not be disagreeable to you. I composed it only this morning, and no one has yet heard me sing it.’ ‘I grant your request with pleasure,’ said Abou Hassan, as he took the glass which she presented to him; ‘and as Commander of the Faithful I lay my injunctions upon you to sing, as I feel assured that so charming a person as you can say nothing but what is most agreeable and very lively.’
“The damsel took her lute and sang a song, accompanying herself on this instrument with so much accuracy, grace, and expression, that she kept Abou Hassan entranced from beginning to end. He thought her song so charming that he called for it a second time, and was no less pleased with it than he had been before.
“When she had finished singing, Abou Hassan, who was desirous of praising her as she deserved, drank off at a draught the glass of wine she had filled for him. Then turning his head towards the damsel to speak to her, he was suddenly overcome by the effect of the powder which he had taken, and could only open his mouth without uttering a single word distinctly. Presently his eyes closed; and letting his head fall upon the table, like a man thoroughly overcome with sleep, he became as completely forgetful of all outward things as he had been the day before, about the same time when the caliph had administered the powder to him, and one of the damsels near him caught the glass which he let fall from his hand. The caliph, who had derived an amount of amusement beyond his expectation from the events of the day, and who saw what happened now as well as whatever Abou Hassan had done before, came out of his closet and appeared in the saloon, quite delighted at having succeeded so well in his design. He first ordered that the caliph’s habit in which Abou Hassan had been dressed in the morning, should be taken from him; and that he should be clothed again in the garments which he had worn twenty-four hours before, at the time the slave, who accompanied the caliph, had brought him to the palace. He ordered the same slave to be called; and upon his appearing he said, ‘Take charge once more of this man,’ and carry him back to his own bed as silently as you can; and when you come away be careful to leave the door open.’
“The slave took up Abou Hassan, carried him off by the secret door of the palace, and placed him in his own house as the caliph had ordered him. Then he returned in haste to give an account of what he had done. Then the caliph said: ‘Abou Hassan wished to be in my place for one day only that he might punish the Iman of the mosque in his neighbourhood, and the four scheiks, or old men, whose conduct had displeased him; I have procured him the means of doing what he wished. Therefore he ought to be satisfied.’
“Abou Hassan, who had been deposited on his sofa by the slave, slept till very late the next day. He did not awake until the effect of the powder which had been put into the last glass he drank had passed away. Then, upon opening his eyes, he was very much surprised to find himself at his own house. ‘Cluster-of-Pearls! Morning-Star! Break-of-day! Coral-lips! Moonshine!’ cried he, calling the damsels of the palace who had been sitting with him each by their name as he could recollect them, ‘Where are you? Come to me!’
“Abou Hassan called as loudly as he could. His mother, who heard him from her apartment, came running up at the noise he made; ‘What’s the matter with you, my son?’ she asked. ‘What has befallen you?’ At these words Abou Hassan raised his head, and looking at his mother with an air of haughtiness and disdain, replied, ‘Good woman, who is the person you call your son?’ ‘You are he,’ answered the mother, with much tenderness, ‘are not you my son, Abou Hassan? It would be the most extraordinary thing in the world if, in so short a time, you should have forgotten it.’ ‘I your son, you execrable old woman!’ cried Abou Hassan, ‘you know not what you are saying. You are a liar. I am not the Abou Hassan you speak of: I am the Commander of the Faithful.’
Abou Hassan and his mother.
“ ‘Be silent, my son,’ rejoined the mother, ‘you do not consider what you say: to hear you talk men would take you for a madman.’ ‘You are yourself a mad old woman,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘I am not out of my senses, as you suppose; I tell you again I am Commander of the Faithful, and vicar upon earth of the Lord of both worlds.’ ‘Ah, my son!’ cried the mother, ‘how comes it that I now hear you utter words which clearly prove that you are not in your right mind? What evil genius possesses you that you hold such language. The blessing of Allah be upon you, and may he deliver you from the malice of Satan! You are my son, Abou Hassan, and I am your mother.’
“After having given him all the proofs she could think of to convince him of his error in order to bring him to himself, she continued to expostulate in these words: ‘Do you not see that the chamber you are now in is your own, and not the chamber of a palace fit for the Commander of the Faithful; and that living constantly with me you have dwelt in this house ever since you were born! Reflect upon all I have been saying to you, and do not let your mind be troubled with thoughts which are not, and cannot be true; once more, my son, consider the matter seriously.’
“Abou Hassan heard these remonstrances of his mother with composure. He sat with his eyes cast down, and resting his head upon his hand, like a man who was recollecting himself and trying to discover the truth of what he saw and heard: ‘I believe you are right,’ said he, to his mother, a few moments afterwards, looking up as if he had been awakened from a deep sleep, but without altering his posture. ‘It seems,’ said he, ‘that I am Abou Hassan, that you are my mother, and that I am in my own chamber. Once more,’ added he, throwing his eyes around the chamber, and attentively contemplating the furniture it contained, ‘I am Abou Hassan; I cannot doubt it, nor can I conceive how I could take this fancy into my head.’
“His mother thought in good earnest that her son was cured of the malady which disturbed his mind, and which she attributed to a dream. She was preparing to laugh with him, and question him about his dream, when on a sudden he sat up, and looking at her with an angry glance, cried: ‘Thou old witch, thou old sorceress, thou knowest not what thou art saying; I am not thy son, nor art thou my mother. Thou deceivest thyself, and thou dost endeavour to impose upon me. I tell thee I am Commander of the Faithful, and thou shalt not make me believe otherwise.’ ‘For Heaven’s sake, my son, put your trust in Allah, and refrain from holding this kind of language, lest some mischief befall you. Let us rather talk of something else. Allow me to tell you what happened yesterday to the Iman of our mosque, and to the four scheiks of our neighbourhood. The officer of the police caused them to be apprehended, and after having given them each in turn I know not how many strokes on the feet, he ordered it to be proclaimed by the crier, that this was the punishment of men who meddled with affairs that did not concern them, and who made it their business to sow dissension among the families of their neighbours. Then he caused them to be led through all parts of the town, while the same proclamation was repeated before them, and he forbade them ever to set foot again in our neighbourhood.’
“Abou Hassan’s mother, who could not imagine her son had any concern in the event she was relating, had purposely turned the conversation, and supposed that the narration of this affair would be a likely mode of effacing the whimsical delusion under which he laboured of being the Commander of the Faithful.
“But the effect proved quite otherwise, and the recital of this story, far from effacing the notion which he now entertained, that he was the Commander of the Faithful, served only to recall it to his mind, and to impress still more deeply on his imagination the firm conviction that it was not a delusion, but a real fact. Thus, the moment his mother had finished her story, Abou Hassan exclaimed, ‘I am no longer your son, nor Abou Hassan, I am assuredly the Commander of the Faithful, and it is not possible for me to have any furthur doubt after what you yourself have just told me. Know then, that it was by my orders that the Iman and the four scheiks were punished in the manner you have related; I tell you, in good truth, I am the Commander of the Faithful; say therefore no longer that it is a dream. I am not now asleep, nor was I dreaming at the time I am telling you of. You have greatly pleased me by confirming what the officer of the police, to whom I gave the orders for the punishment you described, had already reported to me; that is to say, that my commands were punctually executed; and I am the more pleased at this because this Iman and these four scheiks were consummate hypocrites. I should be glad to know who it was that brought me here. Allah be praised for everything. The truth is this, that I am most assuredly the Commander of the Faithful, and all your reasoning will never persuade me to the contrary.’
“His mother, who could not guess or even imagine why her son maintained with so much obstinacy and so much confidence that he was the Commander of the Faithful, felt quite assured that he had lost his senses when she heard him assert things which in her mind were so entirely beyond all belief, though in that of Abou Hassan they had a good foundation. Under this persuasion she said, ‘My son, I pray Heaven to pity and have mercy upon you. Cease, my son, from talking a language so utterly devoid of common sense. Look up to Allah, and entreat him to pardon you, and give you grace to converse like a man in his senses. What would be said of you if you should be heard talking in this manner. Do you not know that walls have ears?’
“These remonstrances, far from softening Abou Hassan’s anger, served only to irritate him still more. He inveighed against his mother with greater violence than ever. ‘O old woman,’ said he, ‘I have already cautioned thee to be quiet. If thou continuest to talk any longer I will rise and chastise thee in a manner thou wilt remember all the rest of thy life. I am the caliph, the Commander of the Faithful, and thou art bound to believe me when I tell thee so.’ Then the poor mother, seeing that Abou Hassan was wandering still farther and farther from his right mind, instead of returning to the subject gave way to tears and lamentations. She bent her face and bosom; she uttered exclamations, which testified her astonishment and deep sorrow at seeing her son in such a dreadful position—lunatic and deprived of understanding.
“Abou Hassan, instead of being calm, and suffering himself to be affected by his mother’s tears, on the contrary, forgot himself so far as to lose all sort of natural respect for her. He rose and suddenly seizing a stick he came towards her with his uplifted hand, raging like a madman. ‘Thou cursed old woman,’ said he, in his fury, and in a tone of voice sufficient to terrify any other than an affectionate mother, ‘tell me this moment who I am!’ ‘My son,’ answered his mother, looking most kindly at him, and far from being afraid, ‘I do not believe you so far abandoned by Allah as not to know the woman who brought you into the world, or to know who you yourself are. I am perfectly sincere in telling you that you are my son Abou Hassan, and that you are quite wrong in claiming for yourself a title, which belongs only to the caliph Haroun Alraschid, your sovereign lord and mine; and this is the more culpable, at a time when our monarch has been heaping benefits upon both you and me, by the present he sent me yesterday. In fact, I have to tell you that the grand vizier Giafar took the trouble yesterday to come hither to me, and putting into my hands a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, he bade me pray to Allah to bless the Commander of the Faithful, who made me this present; and does not this liberality concern you more than me, seeing I have but a few days to live?’
“At these last words Abou Hassan lost all command over himself. The circumstances of the caliph’s liberality, which his mother had just related, assured him he did not deceive himself, and convinced him more firmly than ever that he himself was the caliph, because the vizier had carried the purse by his own order. ‘What! thou old sorceress!’ cried he, ‘wilt thou not be convinced when I tell thee that I am the person who sent these thousand pieces of gold by my grand vizier Giafar, who merely executed the order which I gave him as Commander of the Faithful? Nevertheless, instead of believing me thou art seeking to make me lose my senses by thy contradictions, maintaining, with wicked obstinacy, that I am thy son. But I will not suffer thy insolence to be long unpunished.’ Upon this, in the height of his frenzy, he was so unnatural as to beat her most unmercifully with the stick he held in his hand.
“When his poor mother, who had not supposed her son would so quickly put his threats in execution, found herself beaten, she began to cry out for help as loudly as she could; and as the neighbours came crowding round, Abou Hassan never ceased striking her, calling out at every stroke, ‘Am I the Commander of the Faithful?’ And each time the mother affectionately returned, ‘You are my son.’
“Abou Hassan’s rage began to abate a little when the neighbours came into his chamber. The first who appeared at once threw himself between his mother and him; and snatching the stick from his hand cried out, ‘What are you doing, Abou Hassan? have you lost all sense of duty, or are you mad? Never did a son of your condition in life dare to lift his hand against his mother! And are not you ashamed thus to ill-treat her who so tenderly loves you?’
“Abou Hassan, still raging with fury, looked at the person who spoke without giving him any answer. Then casting his wild eyes on each of the others who had come in, he demanded, ‘Who is this Abou Hassan you are speaking of? Is it me you call by that name?’ This question somewhat disconcerted the neighbours. ‘How!’ replied the man who had just spoken, ‘do not you acknowledge this woman for the person who brought you up, and with whom we have always seen you living? in one word, do not you acknowledge her for your mother?’ ‘You are very impertinent,’ replied Abou Hassan; ‘I know neither her nor you; and I do not wish to know her. I am not Abou Hassan, I am the Commander of the Faithful; and if you do not know it yet, I will make you know it to your cost.’
“At this speech the neighbours were all convinced that he had lost his senses. And to prevent his repeating towards others the outrageous conduct he had been guilty of towards his mother, they seized him, and, in spite of his resistance, bound him hand and foot, and deprived him of the power of doing any mischief. But though he was thus bound, and apparently unable to hurt anybody, they did not think it right to leave him alone with his mother. Two of the company hastened immediately to the hospital for lunatics, to inform the keeper of what had happened. That officer came directly, with some of the neighbours, followed by a considerable number of his people, who brought with them chains, handcuffs, and a whip made of thongs of leather for the purpose of restraining the supposed lunatic.
“On their arrival, Abou Hassan, who did not in the least expect such vigorous proceedings, made great efforts to free himself; but the keeper, who was prepared to use his whip, soon quieted him by two or three strokes well applied to his shoulders. This treatment had such an effect upon Abou Hassan that he soon lay motionless, and the keeper and his assistants did with him what they pleased. They chained him, and put handcuffs and fetters on him; and when they had thus secured him they carried him out of his house, and took him to the hospital for lunatics.
“Abou Hassan was no sooner in the street than he found himself surrounded by a great crowd of people. One gave him a blow with the fist, another struck him in the face; and others reproached him in the most abusive language, treating him as a fool and a madman.
“While he was suffering all this bad treatment he said to himself: ‘There is no greatness and strength but in Allah, the lofty and omnipotent. It is determined that I am a madman, although I am certainly in my senses: I bear these injuries and suffer all this indignity, resigned to the will of Heaven.
“Thus Abou Hassan was conveyed to the hospital appropriated to madmen. There he was bound and shut up in an iron cage. But before he was left to himself the keeper, who had become hardened in the exercise of his office, belaboured his back and shoulders most unmercifully with fifty strokes of his whip; and for more than three weeks he continued to give him every day the same number of blows, always repeating these words: ‘Recover your senses, and tell me whether you are still Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘I have no need of your correction,’ answered Abou Hassan, ‘I am no madman; but if I were likely to go mad, nothing would so quickly bring that misfortune upon me as the blows you give me.’
“Abou Hassan’s mother came constantly to see her son; and she could not refrain from tears when she saw him daily losing his flesh and strength, and heard his sighs and lamentations at the sufferings he endured. In fact, his shoulders, his back, and sides were black and bruised; nor could he procure any rest, try how he would. His skin came off more than once during his abode in that dreadful mansion. His mother was desirous of conversing with him, endeavouring to console him, and to find out whether he continued uniformly in the same state of mind on the subject of his pretended dignity of caliph and Commander of the Faithful. But every time she opened her mouth to touch upon this point, he contradicted what she said with so much rage and fury, that she was forced to yield and quit the subject, inconsolable at seeing him so obstinate in his opinion.
“The strong and lively recollections which were impressed upon the mind of Abou Hassan, of having been dressed in the caliph’s robes, of having actually discharged the office of the caliph, of having exerted his authority, of having been obeyed and treated in all respects as the caliph—all these facts which had persuaded him, upon his awaking from sleep, that he actually was Commander of the Faithful, and had made him persevere so long in his error, began now insensibly to wear out. ‘If I were caliph and Commander of the Faithful,’ said he sometimes to himself, ‘why should I have found myself after my sleep at my own house, and dressed in my own clothes? Why should I not have seen myself surrounded by the chief eunuch and his fellows, and by the very large assembly of damsels? Why should the grand vizier Giafar, whom I have seen at my feet, and all those emirs, governors of provinces, and other officers by whom I have seen myself surrounded—why should they all have deserted me? They would certainly long since have delivered me from the wretched situation in which I am now if I still retained any authority over them. All this has been only a dream, and I ought to acknowledge it as such. I certainly ordered an officer of the police to punish the Iman and the four old men his counsellors; and I ordered the grand vizier Giafar to carry a thousand pieces of gold to my mother, and my orders were obeyed. This makes me hesitate, and I cannot understand these things. But how many things more are there which I cannot comprehend, and never shall be able to understand? I refer all to Allah, who knows and who can guide everything.’
Abou Hassan trying to avoid the merchant.
“Abou Hassan was one day absorbed in these thoughts and reflections when his mother came in. She saw him so emaciated and so weak that her tears fell more abundantly than ever. In the midst of her sobs she addressed him in the usual way, and Abou Hassan returned her salutation with a humility he had never shown since his arrival at the hospital. She thought this a good omen. ‘Well, my son,’ said she, wiping away her tears, ‘how do I find you to-day? In what state of mind are you? Have you given up all those fancies and that language which the evil spirit suggested to you’ ‘O my dear mother,’ answered Abou Hassan, with a settled and composed voice, and in a tone that marked the concern he felt for the violence of which he had been guilty towards her; ‘I acknowledge my error, and I entreat you to forgive the horrid treatment to which I have subjected you, and of which I sincerely repent. I also crave pardon of our neighbours for the offence which I have given them. I have been deceived by a dream; but this dream was so extraordinary and so like reality, that I would engage that any other person who happened to dream it would be as much deluded by it as I was, and would fall into greater extravagances, perhaps, than you have seen me commit. I am still so much disturbed while I am speaking to you, that I can scarcely persuade myself that what I have experienced is a dream; so much did it resemble a real event, and so fully awake did I appear to be.’
“ ‘Be this, however, as it may, I must acknowledge my error, and cannot but continue to think it a dream, or an illusion. I am even convinced that I am not that phantom of a caliph and Commander of the Faithful, but your son Abou Hassan. O my mother, whom I have always honoured till that fatal day, the recollection of which covers me with confusion; I honour you now, and ever will honour you in a manner worthy of myself as long as I live.’
“At these coherent and sensible words, the tears of grief, of compassion, and distress, which Abou Hassan’s mother had been shedding during a long time, were changed into tears of joy, of comfort, and of tender affection for her dear son, whom she thus recovered. ‘O my son,’ cried she, in a transport of delight, ‘I am as joyful and happy to hear you talk so rationally as if I had just now brought you into the world a second time. I must tell you my opinion of your adventure, and call your attention to a circumstance which, perhaps, you have overlooked. The stranger whom you brought home to supper with you one night, went away without, as you desired him, shutting your chamber door; and that, I believe, gave an opportunity to the evil spirit to come in and throw you into that dreadful illusion under which you have laboured. Therefore, my son, you are bound to thank Heaven for having given you this deliverance, and to pray that you may be preserved from again falling into the snares of this demon.’
“ ‘You have discovered the source of my misfortune,’ answered Abou Hassan; ‘and it was on that very night that I had the dream which has so turned my head. I had, however, expressly cautioned the merchant to shut the door after him; and I am now certain that he did not do so. Therefore I think with you, that the devil found the door open, entered, and put all these imaginations into my head. At Moussoul, surely, from whence this merchant came, they cannot be aware of what we know only too well at Baghdad, that the devil comes in to occasion all those sad dreams which disturb our night’s rest when the chambers in which we sleep are left open. In the name of Allah, my mother, since through His mercy I am perfectly restored to my senses, I entreat you, as earnestly as it is possible for a son to entreat so good a mother as you are, to deliver me as soon as may be out of this place of torment, and rescue me from the hand of the barbarous keeper who will infallibly shorten my days if I remain here any longer.’
“Perfectly comforted and much affected at seeing her son entirely recovered from the mad fancy of being caliph, Abou Hassan’s mother went immediately to seek the keeper who had brought him to the madhouse, and who had till then the management of him; and when she had assured him that her son was perfectly restored to his reason, he came and examined him; and, finding she spoke the truth, released him then and there.
“Abou Hassan returned to his house, and remained there many days to recover his health, and recruit his strength with better food than he had received in the hospital for madmen. But as soon as he had a little recovered his spirits, and no longer felt the bad effects of the hard usage he had experienced during his confinement, he began to think it tiresome to pass his evenings without company. For this reason he soon returned to his usual way of life; and presently began again to provide a banquet every day to entertain a new guest at night.
“The day on which he renewed his custom of going towards sunset to the foot of the bridge of Baghdad in order to stop the first stranger who should approach, and invite him to do him the honour of coming to sup at his house, was the first of the month; and it has been already mentioned that this was the day on which the caliph amused himself with passing through one of the gates of the city in disguise that he might himself see whether anything was done contrary to the established laws. This he did in pursuance of a determination made in the beginning of his reign.
“Abou Hassan had not long taken his seat on a bench placed against the parapet when, casting his eyes towards the other end of the bridge, he saw the caliph coming towards him in his old disguise of a merchant of Moussoul, and attended by the same slave who had once accompanied him to Abou Hassan’s house. Convinced that all the misery he had suffered arose only from the circumstance that the caliph, whom he thought to be only a merchant from Moussoul, had left the door open when he went out of his chamber on the former occasion, Abou Hassan trembled at the sight of him. ‘Allah preserve me!’ said he to himself, ‘if I am not mistaken this is the very sorcerer who laid his spell upon me.’ He immediately turned his head and looked stedfastly into the stream, leaning over the parapet that the supposed merchant might not see him as he passed by.
“The caliph, who wished for a renewal of the amusement he had derived from Abou Hassan, had taken great care to be informed of all that he had said and done the day after he awoke and was carried back to his house, and had been told of everything that had happened to the unfortunate man. He felt fresh pleasure at each new particular that was told him, and was amused even at the ill treatment which Abou Hassan had undergone at the hospital for madmen. But as this monarch was very just and generous, and as he discovered in Abou Hassan a turn of mind likely to afford him still further amusement, and as he also doubted whether, after having given up his assumed dignity of caliph, Abou Hassan would return to his usual way of life, he thought fit to bring the young man again near his person; and to effect this purpose he considered it best to disguise himself on the first day of the month like a merchant of Moussoul, as he had done before. He perceived Abou Hassan almost as soon as he was himself seen by the latter; and from Abou Hassan’s turning away, he found immediately how dissatisfied his former host was with him, and that he meant to avoid him. This induced him to walk on that side of the bridge where Abou Hassan was, and to approach him as closely as possible. When he came up to him he stooped down and looked in his face. ‘It is you, brother Abou Hassan?’ said he. ‘I salute you; suffer me, I beseech you, to embrace you.’
“ ‘For my part,’ answered Abou Hassan, bluntly, without looking at the pretended merchant of Moussoul, ‘I am not desirous of saluting you. I want neither your salutation nor your embraces; go your way.’ ‘What,’ resumed the caliph, ‘do not you know me? Do not you recollect the evening we passed together a month ago this day at your house, when you did me the honour to entertain me so hospitably?’ ‘No,’ replied Abou Hassan, in his former rough tone of voice, ‘I know you not, nor can I guess what you are talking of. Therefore, I say again, go about your business.’
“The caliph did not resent Abou Hassan’s rough answer. He knew that one of the rules Abou Hassan had laid down for himself was to have no farther acquaintance with a person whom he had once entertained. Abou Hassan had told him this, but he chose to pretend ignorance of it. ‘I cannot believe that you do not recollect me,’ he said. ‘It is not a great while since we have seen each other; and it is scarcely possible that you should have so easily forgotten me. Surely some misfortune must have befallen you, that you should speak to me thus strangely. You must remember, nevertheless, that I showed my gratitude by my good wishes; and that upon one point, which you held near your heart, I made an offer of my services, which are not to be slighted.’ ‘I know not,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘what may be your influence, nor am I desirous of putting it to the proof. This I know, that your wishes had only the effect of driving me mad. Therefore, I say once again, go your way, and plague me no more.’
The caliph looking through the lattice.
“ ‘Ah, brother Abou Hassan,’ replied the caliph, embracing him, ‘I do not mean to part from you in this manner. Since I have been so fortunate as to meet with you a second time, you must again extend to me the same hospitality you showed me a month ago, and I must have the honour of drinking with you again.’ For that very reason Abou Hassan protested he would be upon his guard. ‘I have sufficient power over myself,’ he cried, ‘to prevent myself from again associating with a man who carries mischief about him as you do. You know the proverb, which says, “Take up your drum and march;” apply it to yourself. Why should I repeat what I have so many times said? May Heaven direct you! You have done me much harm, and I would not willingly expose myself to more at your hands.’
“ ‘My good friend Abou Hassan,’ returned the caliph, embracing him once more, ‘you treat me with a harshness I did not expect. I beseech you not to hold so unpleasant a language towards me, but, on the contrary, to be convinced of my friendship. Do me the favour to relate to me what has befallen you; confide in me who have ever wished you well, who still wish you well, and who would be glad of an opportunity to do you any service in order to make amends for any misfortune you may have suffered through me, if, indeed, you have suffered through my fault.’ Abou Hassan gave way to the entreaty of the caliph; and, after having made him take a seat near him, he said, ‘Your earnestness, and your importunity towards me, have overcome my resistance; but you shall judge from what I am about to tell you whether I complain of you without reason.’
The caliph seated himself close to Abou Hassan, who gave him an account of all the adventures that had befallen him from the time of his waking at the palace to the moment of his second waking at his own chamber; and he told everything as if it were really a dream, not omitting a multitude of circumstances which the caliph knew as well as he did himself, and the recital of which gave his hearer fresh pleasure. He then dwelt fervently on the impression which this dream had left upon his mind of his being caliph and Commander of the Faithful. ‘This delusion,’ added he, ‘led me into the wildest extravagances; until at last my neighbours were obliged to bind me like a madman, and have me conveyed to the hospital for lunatics, where I was treated in a manner which all must allow to have been cruel, barbarous, and inhuman; but what will surprise you, and what, without doubt, you do not expect to be told is, that all these misfortunes have come upon me entirely through your fault. You must remember how earnestly I requested you to shut the door of my chamber when you left me after supper. This request you utterly disregarded, for you left the door open, and the devil entered and filled my head with this dream which, agreeable as it then appeared to me, has nevertheless occasioned all the evils of which I have so much reason to complain. You, therefore, by your negligence are the cause of all, which makes you responsible for the crime, the dreadful and horrid crime which I have committed, not only of lifting my hand against my mother, but of almost killing her and committing matricide! And all this for a reason, which makes me blush for shame whenever I think of it—because she called me her son, as in truth I am, and would not acknowledge me to be the Commandor of the Faithful, as I maintained, and actually believed myself to be. You, too, are the cause of that offence I gave my neighbours, when running to our house at the cries of my poor mother, they found me so exasperated against her that I beat her violently, which would not have happened if you had been careful to shut my chamber door when you left me, as I had entreated you to do. The neighbours could not have come into my house without my permission, and they would not have been witnesses of my extravagances, for it is this exposure which mortifies me most of all. I should not have thought it necessary to strike them in defending myself, and they would not have ill-treated me and bound me hand and foot, and caused me to be conveyed to the lunatics’ hospital and shut up there, where I can assure you every day during my imprisonment in that infernal place I had to submit to be beaten most severely with a whip of thongs.’
“Abou Hassan related to the caliph all these grievances with much warmth and vehemence. The caliph knew better than he all that had occurred, and was delighted within himself at having succeeded so well, and having contrived to bring Abou Hassan into that state of illusion in which he still saw him; but he could not hear this narrative detailed in so artless a manner without bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Abou Hassan, who thought his story would excite compassion, and that all the world must sympathise with him, was highly offended at this violent laughter of the pretended merchant of Moussoul. ‘Are you making a jest of me,’ said he, ‘by thus laughing in my face, or do you think I am bantering you when I am talking to you very seriously? Do you wish for actual proof of what I advance? Here, look and see yourself, and tell me if this is a jest.’ As he said this he bent forward, and baring his breast and shoulders he let the caliph see the scars and bruises occasioned by the beatings he had received.
“The caliph was shocked at the sight. He felt compassion for poor Abou Hassan, and was extremely sorry the jest had been carried so far. He ceased laughing, and cordially embracing Abou Hassan he said, with a very serious air, ‘Rise, my dear brother, I beseech you let us go to your house, I wish to have again the pleasure of being your guest this evening; to-morrow, if it please Heaven, all will be found to have turned out for the best.’
“Notwithstanding his resolution, and in opposition to the oath he had taken not to entertain a stranger a second time at his house, Abou Hassan could not withstand the flattering importunities of the caliph, whom he all along supposed to be a merchant from Moussoul. ‘I consent,’ said he, to the pretended merchant, ‘but only upon a condition which you shall bind yourself by an oath to observe. It is this: that you do me the favour to shut my chamber door when you leave my house that the devil may not come to turn my brain as he did before.’ The pretended merchant gave his promise. Thereupon the two men rose and walked towards the town. The better to engage Abou Hassan, the caliph said to him, ‘Put confidence in me, and I promise you, as a man of honour, that I will not fail of my word. After this you will not hesitate to rely upon a person like me, who wishes you all kinds of prosperity and happiness.’
“ ‘I do not require this,’ rejoined Abou Hassan, suddenly stopping short—‘I give way with all my heart to your importunity, but I can dispense with your good wishes, and I beg for Heaven’s sake that you will not invoke any blessings upon me. All the ills that have befallen me to the present time have no other source than those wishes of yours.’ ‘Good,’ replied the caliph, smiling within himself at the still disordered imagination of Abou Hassan, ‘since you will have it so, you shall be obliged. I promise to express no more good wishes for you.’ ‘I am heartily rejoiced to hear you say so,’ said Abou Hassan, ‘and I have nothing else to ask. And if you keep your word in this, I will lay no further conditions upon you.’
“Abou Hassan and the caliph, followed by the caliph’s slave, walked on conversing in this manner: the day began to close when they reached Abou Hassan’s house. He immediately called his mother, and ordered a light to be brought. He requested the caliph to take a seat on the sofa, and he seated himself near his guest. In a short time supper was served on a table that was placed before them. They fell to without ceremony. When they had finished Abou Hassan’s mother came to clear the table, and placed the fruit upon it, near her son, with the wine and glasses; she then retired and appeared no more.
“Abou Hassan first poured out wine for himself, and then for the caliph. They drank six or seven glasses each, conversing on indifferent matters. When the caliph saw Abou Hassan beginning to grow merry, he led him to a more interesting subject, and asked him if he had ever been in love.
“ ‘Brother,’ replied Abou Hassan, in a very familiar manner, for he thought he was talking with a guest of his own rank, ‘I have never considered either love or marriage but as a slavery to which I have always felt a reluctance to submit; and to this moment I will confess to you I have never loved anything but the pleasures of the table, and especially good wine; my idea of enjoyment, in a word, is to amuse myself and converse agreeably with my friends. I will not go so far as to say that I should be indifferent to marriage, or incapable of attachment if I could meet with a woman as beautiful and as agreeable in disposition as one of the many whom I saw in my dream on that fatal night when I received you here the first time, and when, to my misfortune, you left my chamber door open; one who would pass the evenings feasting with me, who could sing and play on the lute and converse agreeably with me, and who had no other wish but to please and amuse me. On the contrary, I believe all my indifference would be changed into the warmest attachment to such a person, and I could live very happily with her. But where shall a man meet with such a woman as I have described, except in the palace of the Commander of the Faithful; at the house of the grand vizier; or of those very powerful lords of the court with whom there is no want of silver and gold. I would rather, therefore, confine myself to my bottle, which is a pleasure I have at little expense, and which I can enjoy as well as they.’ As he said this, he took a glass and filled it with wine. ‘Do you take a glass also, which I will fill for you,’ said he to the caliph, ‘and let us prolong the enjoyment of this delightful evening.’
“When the caliph and Abou Hassan had emptied their glasses, the former resumed: ‘ ’Tis a great pity that so gallant a man as you are, and one who is not indifferent to love, should lead such a retired and solitary life.’ ‘I infinitely prefer,’ said Abou Hassan, ‘the composed kind of life you see me leading, to the company of a woman who perhaps, in respect of beauty, might not hit my taste, and who besides might plague me in a thousand ways by her faults and her ill temper.
“They continued their conversation on this subject to a great length; and the caliph, who saw Abou Hassan had quite reached the point he wished, then said; ‘Leave the matter to me, and since you have a good taste and are an honest fellow, I will find a lady to your mind without causing you either expense or trouble. So saying, he took the bottle and Abou Hassan’s glass, into which he dexterously put a small quantity of the powder he had made use of before, filled a bumper for his host, and, presenting the glass to him, merrily observed: ‘Take this, and drink beforehand to the health of the beauty who is to make your life happy; depend upon it you shall be pleased with her.’
“Abou Hassan took the glass with a smile, and shook his head. ‘Happy be the event,’ said he, ‘since you will have it so; I cannot bear to be guilty of an incivility toward you, nor will I disoblige so agreeable a guest as you are for a thing of so little importance; I will then drink to the health of this beauty you promise me, although I am content with my present situation, and do not greatly reckon upon gaining any new happiness.’
“So soon as Abou Hassan had swallowed the drugged wine a deep sleep overpowered his senses, as it had done twice before, and the caliph was again enabled to deal with him as he pleased. He immediately ordered the slave who attended him to take Abou Hassan and carry him to the palace. The slave accordingly carried him off; and the caliph, who had no design of sending Abou Hassan back, shut the chamber door when he quitted it.
“The slave followed with his burden; and when the caliph reached the palace he ordered Abou Hassan to be laid on a sofa in the fourth saloon, whence he had been carried back to his own house, fast asleep, on the former occasion. Before Abou Hassan was left alone to finish his sleep, the caliph ordered the same dress to be put upon him in which he had been clad on the day when he supported the character of the caliph; and the royal garments were put upon Abou Hassan in the caliph’s presence. Then the latter bade all in the palace go to bed; and also ordered the officers of the eunuchs, the officers of the bed-chamber, the female musicians, and the same damsels who had been in this saloon when Abou Hassan drank the last glass of wine which brought on his sleep to be ready without fail the next day at sunrise when Abou Hassan should awake; and charged all of them to play their parts exactly.
“The caliph went to bed, after having told Mesrour to come and rouse him early, that he might go into the closet where he had before been concealed.
“Mesrour did not fail to wake the caliph exactly at the appointed hour. The caliph immediately dressed, and went out towards the chamber where Abou Hassan was still asleep. He found the officers of the eunuchs, those of the bed-chamber, the damsels, and the female musicians, at the door waiting his arrival. He told them in a few words what his intention was; then he went in and proceeded to place himself in the closet, whose lattices concealed him. Mesrour, all the other officers, the damsels, and the female musicians, came in after him, and stood round the sofa on which Abou Hassan was sleeping, ranging themselves in such a way as not to prevent the caliph from seeing and observing whatever the sleeper might do.
“When everything was thus arranged, and Abou Hassan had slept off the effects of the caliph’s powder, he awoke, but without opening his eyes. Directly he stirred in the bed the seven choirs of female singers raised their delightful voices, mingled with the sound of hautbois, soft flutes, and other instruments, so as to make a most agreeable concert.
“Abou Hassan was very much astonished when he heard such sweet harmony. He opened his eyes, and his astonishment increased beyond measure when he perceived the damsels and the officers who stood round him, and who he thought he recollected. The saloon where he now lay seemed the same as that which he had seen in his first dream; for he recognised the lights, the furniture, and the ornaments.
“The concert presently ceased, for the performers wished to give the caliph an opportunity of observing the countenance of his new guest, and hearing all that Abou Hassan should say in his astonishment. The damsels, Mesrour, and all the officers of the bed-chamber remained in their places, standing in profound silence, with every mark of respect. ‘Alas!’ cried Abou Hassan, biting his fingers, and speaking in a loud voice, to the delight of the caliph, ‘here am I again fallen into the same dream and the same illusion which I experienced a month ago; and what have I to expect but the same scourging, the hospital for madmen, and the iron cage? O Allah the merciful! I resign myself into the hands of Thy divine providence. He whom I received yesterday evening at my house is a most wicked rascal to bring upon me this delusion, and all the misery I shall suffer in consequence of it. Perfidious traitor! He had promised with an oath that he would shut my chamber door after him when he left my house; but he has not done so, and the evil spirit has entered, and is now again turning my brain with this cursed dream about the Commander of the Faithful, and all the other fancies by which he fascinates my eyes. May Allah confound thee, Satan, and heap a mountain of stones upon thy head!’
“When he had spoken these words Abou Hassan shut his eyes, and remained sunk in deep thought, with a mind thoroughly confused. A moment afterwards he opened them, and looking by turns on all the objects around him he cried again, but with rather less astonishment, and with a smile, ‘I resign myself into the hands of Thy providence; O Allah, preserve me from the temptation of Satan!’ Then closing his eyes again, he continued, ‘I know what I will do—I will sleep till Satan leaves me, and goes back to the place whence he came; I will sleep though I should stay here till noon.’
“But the bystanders would not give him time to sleep again, as he proposed. Heart’s-Delight, one of the damsels whom he had seen at his first visit to the palace, came up to him and seated herself at the end of the sofa. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ said she, in a very respectful manner, ‘I beseech your majesty to pardon me, if I take the liberty of advising you not to sleep again, but to endeavour to rouse yourself and get up; the day is beginning to appear.’ ‘Get thee from me, Satan,’ said Abou Hassan, when he heard this voice; then looking up at Heart’s-Delight he asked, ‘Do you call me Commander of the Faithful? You certainly take me for another person.’
“But Heart’s-Delight resumed: ‘I am addressing your majesty by the title which belongs to you as sovereign of all the mussulman world; I address you, whose most humble slave I am, and to whom I have now the honour to speak. Your majesty is doubtless pleased to jest,’ added she, ‘in thus affecting not to know who you are; or perhaps you have been troubled by some unpleasant dream; but if your majesty will be pleased to open your eyes, the cloud, which perhaps hangs over your imagination, will be dissipated, and you will see that you are in your palace, surrounded by your officers, and by us, the humblest of your slaves, ready to render you our accustomed services. Nor ought your majesty to be surprised at finding yourself in this saloon, and not in your bed; you yesterday fell asleep so suddenly that we were unwilling to wake you, even to conduct you to your bed-chamber, and we were accordingly content with placing you that you might sleep conveniently on this sofa.’
“Heart’s-Delight said so many other things to Abou Hassan which appeared quite probable to him, that at length he rose and sat up. He opened his eyes and recognised her, and likewise Cluster-of-Pearls, and the other damsels whom he had seen before. Then they all approached him at once, and Heart’s-Delight resuming her discourse: ‘Commander of the Faithful, and vicar of the prophet upon earth,’ said she, ‘your majesty will allow us to remind you again that it is time to rise; you see it is day-light.’
The caliph’s laughter.
“ ‘You are very troublesome and impertinent,’ retorted Abou Hassan, rubbing his eyes; ‘I am not Commander of the Faithful, I am Abou Hassan, as I very well know; and you shall not persuade me to the contrary.’ ‘We know nothing of Abou Hassan, of whom your majesty speaks,’ replied Heart’s-Delight; ‘we have no desire to know him; we know your majesty to be Commander of the Faithful, and you will never persuade us that you are any other person.’
“Abou Hassan cast his eyes around him, and felt as if he were bewitched, when he saw himself in the saloon in which he knew he had been before; but he attributed this appearance to a dream, like that he had already experienced, and he dreaded the consequences that were to come. ‘Heaven have mercy upon me,’ cried he, lifting up his hands and eyes, ‘into its hands I resign myself. From what I now see I cannot doubt but that the devil who entered my chamber besets and disturbs my imagination with all these visions.’ The caliph, who was observing him, and had just heard all his exclamations, felt so strong a disposition to laugh that he had some difficulty to avoid betraying himself.
“Abou Hassan was by this time once more lying down, and had shut his eyes again. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ immediately said Heart’s-Delight, ‘since your majesty does not rise after being told it is day-light, a fact we are bound to announce to you, and that it is necessary your majesty should pay attention to the business of the empire which is entrusted to your government, we shall make use of the permission you have given us for such occasions.’ As she said this she took Abou Hassan by one arm, and called the other damsels to assist her in making him rise from the place where he lay; and they carried him, almost by force, into the midst of the saloon, where they placed him on a seat. Then they took each other by the hand and danced and skipped about him to the sound of the cymbals and all the other instruments, which they rattled about his head as loud as possible.
“Abou Hassan found himself perplexed beyond expression: ‘Can I be really caliph and Commander of the Faithful?’ said he to himself. At last, uncertain what to think, he tried to call out, but the loud sounds of the instruments prevented his being heard. He beckoned to Cluster-of-Pearls and Morning-Star, who were dancing about him, holding each other by the hand, and signified that he wished to speak. Morning-Star immediately put a stop to the dance, and silenced the noise of the instruments, and came near him. ‘Now speak out honestly,’ said he, with great simplicity, ‘and tell me truly who I am.’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Morning-Star, ‘your majesty is pleased to astonish us by putting this question, as if you did not yourself know that you are the Commander of the Faithful, and the vicar upon earth of the Prophet of Allah, who is Lord both of this world and the other; of the world in which we now are, and of that which is to come after death. If this is not the case, some extraordinary dream must have made your majesty forget who you are. Something of this sort may well have happened when we consider that your majesty has slept to-night a much longer time than usual. Nevertheless, if your majesty gives permission, I will bring to your recollection everything you did yesterday through the whole day.’ She then reminded him of his coming into the council, of the punishment of the Iman and the four old men by the officer of the police. She told him of the present of a purse of gold sent by his vizier to the mother of a person called Abou Hassan. She related what was done in the interior of the palace, and what passed at the three refreshment tables which were served in the three saloons. And when she came to speak of the last she said: ‘Your majesty, after having made us sit near you at the table, did us the honour of listening to our songs, and taking wine from our hands, till the moment when your majesty fell fast asleep in the manner just related by Heart’s-Delight. Since then your majesty, contrary to your usual habit, has remained sunk in a deep sleep till the beginning of this day. Cluster-of-Pearls, all the rest of the slaves, and all the officers present will prove the same thing—and will it please your majesty to prepare to go to prayers, for it is now time.’
“ ‘Well, well,’ returned Abou Hassan, shaking his head, ‘you would fain impose upon me if I would hearken to you. For my part,’ he went on, ‘I say you are all mad, and have all lost your senses. ’Tis a great pity, however, since you are all so handsome. But let me tell you, that since I saw you I have been at my own house, have treated my mother very ill, and have been thrown into the lunatics’ hospital, where I remained much against my will more than three weeks, during which time the keeper never failed to treat me every day with fifty lashes—and would you have all this to be nothing but a dream? Surely you are jesting.’ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Morning-Star, ‘we are all ready, all that are here present, to swear by whatever your majesty holds most dear, that what you tell us is only a dream. You have not left this room since yesterday, and you have slept through the whole night till this moment.’
“The confidence with which this damsel assured Abou Hassan that all she said was true, and that he had not left the saloon since he first entered it, plunged him into the greatest bewilderment. He knew not and could not tell what to believe—who he was, or what he saw. He remained some time quite lost in thought. ‘O Heaven!’ said he to himself, ‘am I Abou Hassan? Am I Commander of the Faithful? May Allah enlighten my understanding, and cause me to distinguish the truth that I may know what to believe.’ He then uncovered his shoulders, still black with the strokes he had received, and showing them to the damsels he cried out, ‘look for yourselves and judge whether such scars could come from a dream when a man is sleeping. I can assure you I think them real; and the pain I still feel from them is so sure a proof of their reality that I can have no doubt. If all this has befallen me in my sleep, it is the most extraordinary and the most astonishing thing in the world; I must confess it passes my comprehension. ’
“In his bewilderment of mind Abou Hassan called one of the officers who stood near him: ‘Come hither,’ said he, ‘and bite the tip of my ear that I may determine whether I am asleep or awake.’ The officer stepped up to Abou Hassan, took the top of his ear between his teeth, and bit so hard that Abou Hassan set up a yell of pain.
“When he thus cried out all the instruments began to play at the same time, and the damsels and the officers began to dance, to sing, and skip about Abou Hassan with so much noise, that he fell into a sort of frenzy, which made him commit a thousand extravagances. He began to sing with the rest. He stripped off the fine dress of the caliph which they had put upon him. He threw upon the floor the cap he had on his head; and with only his shirt and trowsers on, he sprang off his couch and threw himself between the two damsels, whom he took by the hand, and began to skip and dance with them so actively, so violently, and with so many droll and ridiculous twistings of his body, that the caliph in his hiding place could no longer restrain himself. This sudden outburst of Abou Hassan made him laugh so violently that he fell backwards, and his laughter was heard above all the noise of the musical instruments and cymbals. For a long time he was quite unable to master his merriment. At length he rose up and opened the lattice. Then putting out his hand he cried, still laughing: ‘Abou Hassan, Abou Hassan, are you determined to make me die with laughter?’
“When the caliph spoke every one was silent, and the loud music ceased. Abou Hassan paused with the rest, and turned his head towards the place whence the voice came. He knew the caliph, and discovered that it was he who had personated the merchant of Moussoul. He was not disconcerted at this; he knew in a moment that he was quite awake, and that everything which had befallen him was perfectly real and no dream. He fell in with the humour and design of the caliph: ‘Ah, ha!’ cried he, looking at him with an air of confidence, ‘you are there, you merchant of Moussoul! How can you complain that I make you die with laughing; you who are the cause of my bad behaviour towards my mother, and of all I myself suffered during my long confinement in the hospital for lunatics—you who have so ill-treated the Iman of the mosque in our part of the town, and our four scheiks, my neighbours—for I had nothing to do with it, I wash my hands of it—you who have occasioned so much distress and so many cross accidents. I ask you, are not you the aggressor, and am not I the sufferer?’ ‘You are in the right, Abou Hassan,’ replied the caliph, who was still laughing, ‘but for your comfort and to make amends for all your sufferings, I am ready—and I call Heaven to witness it—to recompense you in any way you wish, and to grant all you shall think proper to demand.’
“As soon as he had said this, the caliph came down from his closet and entered the saloon. He caused one of his best habits to be brought, and bade the damsels and the officers of the chamber employ themselves, according to their duty, in dressing Abou Hassan in it. When they had done so the caliph embraced him, and said, ‘You are my brother, ask of me whatever will best please you and I will grant it.’ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘I beseech your majesty to have the goodness to inform me what you did to turn my brain, and what was your design; at present this is of more importance to me than anything else, to bring my mind back again to its former state.’
“The caliph was ready to give Abou Hassan this satisfaction. ‘You must in the first place understand then,’ said he, ‘that I very often disguise myself, and especially by night, that I may find out whether proper order is preserved in all respects in the city of Baghdad; andaIam also glad to learn what happens in the neighbourhood, I set apart a certain day, the first of every month, to make a circuit beyond the walls, sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other; and I always return by the bridge. I was returning from my round on the evening when you invited me to sup with you. In the course of our conversation, you observed that your greatest wish was to be caliph and Commander of the Faithful only for twenty-four hours, that you might punish the Iman of the mosque in your neighbourhood, and the four scheiks, his counsellors. From this wish of yours I thought I might derive great amusement; and with that view I at once devised means to procure you the satisfaction you desired. I had about me a powder which brings on a deep sleep the moment it is taken, and keeps the person who has taken it asleep during a certain time. Without your perceiving it, I put a dose of that powder into the last glass which I presented to you, and you swallowed it. You were immediately overcome by sleep, and I ordered you to be taken away and carried to my palace by the slave who waited upon me: and when I went away I left your chamber door open. I need not tell you what happened to you at my palace after your waking, and during the whole of that day you spent here; at night, after you had been well entertained by my order, one of my female slaves who waited upon you put another dose of the same powder into the last glass which she presented to you, and which you drank. A sound sleep immediately seized you, and I caused you to be carried back to your own house by the same slave who had brought you, with an order to leave again the chamber door open when he came out of it. You had yourself told me all that befell you on the next day and immediately after. I did not imagine you would have to undergo so much as you suffered on this occasion; but I have given you my word I will do everything to console you, and will, if possible, make you forget all your sufferings. Consider, therefore, what I can do for your satisfaction, and freely ask me to give you whatever you wish.’
“ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ returned Abou Hassan, ‘great as have been the ills I have suffered, they are effaced from my memory now that I know they were occasioned by my sovereign lord and master. With regard to the generosity with which your majesty offers to shower benefits upon me, I can have no doubt, after your irrevocable word has passed, that it will be fulfilled; but as self-interest had never much power over me, since your majesty gives me this liberty, the favour I shall presume to ask is that you allow me free access to your person, that I may have the happiness of admiring your greatness all my life long.’
“This last proof of Abou Hassan’s disinterestedness completely gained the caliph’s esteem. ‘I most readily comply with your request,’ said he; ‘I grant you free access to me in my palace at all hours, and in whatever part of it I may be:’—and he immediately assigned to Abou Hassan an apartment in the palace. He chose rather that his new retainer should be about his person, than that Abou Hassan have any particular office in his treasury, and upon the spot ordered a thousand pieces of gold to be paid him from the privy purse. Abou Hassan made the humblest acknowledgements to the caliph, who then left him in order to hold his usual council.
“Abou Hassan took this opportunity of going immediately to his mother to inform her of all that had occurred, and to acquaint her with his good fortune. He made her understand that all which had befallen him was by no means a dream; that he had really been caliph; that he had actually discharged all the royal functions, and received all the honours paid to the caliph during the space of twenty-four hours; and assured her that she need not doubt the truth of what he was telling her, since he had it confirmed to him by the caliph’s own mouth.
“The news of Abou Hassan’s adventure soon spread throughout the city of Baghdad; it passed even into the neighbouring provinces, and thence into the most distant regions, and was repeated with all the singular and amusing circumstances which accompanied it.
Abou Hassan paying the cook.
“This newly acquired distinction of Abou Hassan brought him constantly about the caliph’s person. As he was naturally of a good temper, and diffused much cheerfulness wherever he came by his wit and pleasantry, the caliph scarcely knew how to do without him, and never engaged in any scheme of amusement but he made Abou Hassan one of the party. He sometimes brought him even to his wife Zobeidè, to whom he had related his history, which entertained her much. Princess Zobeidè was very well pleased with Abou Hassan; but she observed that whenever he attended the caliph in his visits to her, he had always his eye upon Nouzhatoul Aouadat, one of her slaves. This circumstance she determined, therefore, to communicate to the caliph; and said to him one day, ‘Commander of the Faithful, you do not observe, perhaps, as I do, that every time Abou Hassan comes hither with you he constantly fixes his eyes upon Nouzhatoul Aouadat, and that she never fails to blush and cast down her eyes. You will hardly doubt that this is a sure sign she does not dislike him. If, therefore, you will take my advice, we will arrange a marriage between them.’ ‘Lady,’ returned the caliph, ‘you bring to my recollection a thing I ought not to have forgotten. Abou Hassan has told me his opinion on the subject of marriage, and I have always promised to give him a wife, with whom he shall have every reason to be satisfied. I am glad you have spoken to me about it, and I cannot conceive how the thing could have escaped my memory. But it is better that Abou Hassan should follow his own inclination in the choice he is to make for himself. Besides, since Nouzhatoul Aouadat does not seem averse to the match, we should not hesitate about this marriage. Here they are both; they have nothing to do but to declare their consent.’
“Abou Hassan threw himself at the feet of the caliph and of Princess Zobeidè, to testify his gratitude at their kindness towards him. ‘I cannot,’ said he, as he rose, ‘receive a bride from better hands; but I dare not hope that Nouzhatoul Aouadat will give me her hand as cordially as I am ready to give her mine.’ As he said this he looked at the slave of the princess, who, on her part, by a respectful silence and by the colour which rose into her cheeks, plainly showed that she was entirely disposed to follow the advice of the caliph and of the Princess Zobeidè her mistress.
“The marriage presently took place. The nuptials were celebrated in the palace with great demonstrations of joy, which lasted many days. Princess Zobeidè considered it a point of honour to make her slave rich presents to please the caliph; and the caliph, on his part, out of regard for the Princess Zobeidè, was equally generous towards Abou Hassan.
“The bride was conducted to the apartments which the caliph had assigned to Abou Hassan her husband, who awaited her coming with impatience. He received her with the sound of all sorts of musical instruments, mingled with the voices of singers of both sexes belonging to the palace, raised together in a loud and harmonious concert.
“Many days passed in the festivities and rejoicings usual upon such occasions. At length the newly married pair were left to each other’s society. Abou Hassan and his new wife were charmed with each other. They were so perfectly united in affection that, except the time employed in attendance, one on the caliph, the other on the Princess Zobeidè, they lived entirely together. Nouzhatoul Aouadat had all the qualities that would inspire love and attachment in a man like Abou Hassan; for she corresponded to those wishes he had expressed so plainly to the caliph, and was especially fitted to be his companion at table. With such dispositions they could not fail to pass their time together most agreeably. Their table was constantly covered at every meal with the most delicious and the rarest dishes that cooks, with the utmost care, could prepare and furnish. Their sideboard was always provided with the most exquisite wine, which was so disposed as to be conveniently within the reach of either as they sat at table. There they enjoyed themselves to their heart’s content in private, and entertained each other with a thousand pleasantries, which made them laugh more or less, according to the degree of the wit and humour which they contained. Their evening repast was more peculiarly devoted to pleasure. At that time were served only the best sorts of fruits, almond cakes, and the most exquisite confectionery. At every glass they drank, their spirits were raised by new songs, often composed at the moment, and suggested by the subject of their conversation. These songs were sometimes accompanied by a lute, or some other instrument, on which both of them were able to perform.
“Abou Hassan and Nouzhatoul Aouadat passed a long time in the enjoyment of mirth and jollity. They took no thought about the expense of their way of living. The cook whom they had chosen had hitherto furnished everything without demanding payment. It was but right that he should receive some money. He therefore presented his account to them. The amount was found to be very considerable. There was, moreover, a demand made for marriage garments of the richest stuffs for the use of both, and for jewels of high value for the bride; and so very large was the sum that they perceived, but too late, that of all the money they had received from the liberality of the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè when they were married, there remained no more than was sufficient to discharge the debt. This made them reflect seriously on their past conduct; but their reflections brought no remedy for the present evil. Abou Hassan was inclined to pay the cook, and his wife had no objection. They sent for the cook accordingly, and paid him his demand, without showing the least sign of the embarrassment they knew must immediately follow upon the payment of this money.
“The cook went away quite rejoiced at being paid in such new and very excellent coin; for none of an inferior sort was ever seen at the caliph’s palace. Abou Hassan and Nouzhatoul Aouadat had thought their purse would never be empty. They sat in profound silence, with downcast eyes, and much confounded at finding themselves reduced to a penniless condition the very first year after their marriage.
“Abou Hassan remembered that the caliph on receiving him at his palace promised that he should never want for anything. But when he reflected that he had squandered in a little time the bounty he had so liberally received from the hand of Haroun Alraschid, he felt no disposition to make a request; nor could he bear to expose himself to the shame of avowing to the caliph the use he had made of his bounty, and the necessity he was under of receiving a fresh supply of money. He had given up all his own property to his mother, as the caliph had retained him near his person; and he was very unwilling to have recourse to her for assistance; for she would know from such a step that he had again fallen into the state of distress he had been in soon after the death of his father.
“In the same way Nouzhatoul Aouadat, who regarded the generosity of the Princess Zobeidè, and the liberty she had given her of marrying, as more than a sufficient recompense for her services and attachment, did not think she had any claim to request farther favours.
“At last Abou Hassan broke silence; and looking at Nouzhatoul Aouadat with an open countenance, he said: ‘I plainly see that you are in the same embarrassment I myself feel, and that you are considering what we are to do in our deplorable situation, when our money fails us all at once before we had made provision for such a failure. I know not what you may think of the matter; for my part, whatever may be the consequence, I am determined not to retrench in the smallest degree from my usual expenses, and I believe you are not disposed to give up yours. The point is, to find means to provide for our wants without our having the meanness to apply either to the caliph or to the Princess Zobeidè; and I think I have discovered a way to get over this difficulty. But in this matter we must resolve to assist each other.’
“This speech of Abou Hassan’s gave Nouzhatoul Aouadat much satisfaction and some degree of hope. ‘I was thinking upon this very matter,’ said she; ‘and if I did not speak out it was because I could see no remedy. I must confess that the declaration you have just made gives me the greatest satisfaction possible. But since you say you have discovered the means of relief for us both; and since my assistance is necessary to our success, you have only to tell me what I am to do, and you shall see that I will exert myself to the utmost.’ ‘I entirely expected,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘that you would not fail me in a matter which concerns you equally with myself. I have devised a scheme to procure money in our necessity, at least for some time to come. It consists in a little piece of deceit which we must practise towards the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè, and which I am assured will cause them amusement, and not be unprofitable to us. The deceit which I propose is that we should both of us die.’
“ ‘That we should both of us die!’ repeated Nouzhatoul Aouadat in astonishment. ‘You may die, if you please; but, for my part, I am not yet tired of life, and without wishing to give you offence, I must say I have no intention of dying quite so soon. If you have no better scheme to propose you may execute that one yourself; for I can assure you I will have nothing to do with it.’ ‘You are a woman,’ replied Abou Hassan—‘I mean you are surprisingly ready and quick with your reply. You give me no time to explain myself. Hear me for a moment patiently, and you shall find that you will have no objection to dying in the way I mean to die. You must understand that I do not mean to talk of a real, but a feigned death.’
“ ‘Ah! good!’ said Nouzhatoul Aouadat briskly: ‘since you speak of nothing more than a feigned death, I am at your service: you may depend upon my assistance. You shall see with what zeal I will second you in this sort of death; but, to tell you the truth, I have a most unconquerable aversion to the thoughts of dying so soon in the way I first understood you to mean.’ ‘Very well,’ said Abou Hassan, ‘you may be satisfied. This is what I mean: in order to carry out my scheme I am going to play the dead man. You shall immediately take a sheet, and you must put me in a coffin as if I were actually dead. You shall lay me out in the middle of the chamber in the usual way, with a turban on my face, and my feet turned towards Mecca, and with every preparation made for carrying me to the grave. When all this has been done, you are to begin weeping and lamenting, as is usual upon such occasions, rending your garments and tearing your hair; and in this state of grief, and with dishevelled locks, you shall go and present yourself to the Princess Zobeidè. Your mistress will wish to know the reason of your tears; and when you have informed her of my death, in broken words mingled with sobs, she will not fail to pity you, and to make you a present of a sum of money to assist you in defraying the expenses of my funeral, and to purchase a piece of brocade to serve for a pall and to give a splendour to my obsequies, as well as to purchase a new dress for yourself, as a substitute for that which she will see you have torn. As soon as you have returned with this money and this piece of brocade, I will rise from the ground where I have been lying, and you shall take my place. You shall pretend to be dead; and, after you have been put into a coffin, I will go in my turn to the caliph, and tell him the same tale you tell to the Princess Zobeidè; and I dare promise myself that the caliph will not be less liberal to me than the Princess Zobeidè will have been to you.’
“When Abou Hassan had sufficiently explained himself concerning his intended project, Nouzhatoul Aouadat replied: ‘I believe the trick will be very amusing, and am mistaken if the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè will not think themselves much obliged to us for it. But we must take care to manage it properly. So far as my part is concerned, you may be sure it shall be well performed—at least, as well as I suppose you will perform yours; and we shall both act with zeal and attention in proportion as we expect to derive benefit from the scheme. Let us lose no time. Whilst I am getting a sheet, do you take off your upper garments. I know how to manage funerals as well as anybody; for whilst I was in the service of the Princess Zobeidè, if any slave died among my companions I was always appointed to superintend the burial.’
“Abou Hassan was not long in carrying out the recommendations of Nouzhatoul Aouadat. He lay down on his back on the sheet which had been spread upon the carpet in the middle of the chamber, crossed his arms, and suffered himself to be wrapped up in a manner which made him look as if he were only waiting to be placed on the bier and to be carried out for burial. His wife turned his feet towards Mecca, covered his face with the finest muslin, and then placed his turban over it in such a manner as not to interfere with his breathing. She then pulled off her head-dress, and with tears in her eyes, and her hair hanging loose and dishevelled, while she pretended to pull it with great outcries, she struck her cheeks, beat her breast violently, and showed every other sign of the most passionate grief. In this manner she went out and crossed a spacious court, intending to go to the apartment of the Princess Zobeidè.
“Nouzhatoul Aouadat shrieked and lamented so loudly that the Princess Zobeidè heard her from her apartment. Princess Zobeidè ordered her female slaves who were then in waiting to inquire whence the cries and lamentations which she heard proceeded. They instantly ran to the lattice, and came back to tell the Princess Zobeidè that Nouzhatoul Aouadat was coming that way apparently in very great distress. Thereupon the princess, impatient to know what had befallen her favourite, rose, and went to meet her as far as the door of her antechamber.
“Nouzhatoul Aouadat played her part to perfection. The moment she perceived the Princess Zobeidè, who herself held back the tapestry and kept the door of the antechamber half open, waiting for her, she redoubled her lamentations, and as she advanced tore off her hair by handfuls, struck her cheeks and breast more violently, and threw herself at her mistress’s feet, bathing them with her tears. Princess Zobeidè, astonished to see her slave in such terrible grief, asked her what was the matter, and what misfortune had befallen her.
The trick successful.
“Instead of answering her, Nouzhatoul Aouadat continued sobbing for some time, apparently taking the utmost pains to suppress her grief. ‘Alas! my ever-honoured lady and mistress,’ she cried at last, her voice much broken with sobs, ‘what greater, what more fatal evil could befall me, than the dreadful calamity which obliges me to come and throw myself at the feet of your majesty in the extreme distress to which I am reduced! May Heaven grant you long life and the most perfect health, my most honoured mistress, and bestow upon you many and happy years! Abou Hassan—the poor Abou Hassan, whom you have honoured with your bounty, and whom you and the Commander of the Faithful gave me for a husband—is dead!’
“So saying, Nouzhatoul Aouadat redoubled her tears and sobs, and threw herself again at the feet of her mistress. Princess Zobeidè was extremely surprised at this news. ‘Is Abou Hassan dead?’ cried she: ‘a man who appeared in such good health, who was so agreeable and amusing; I did not expect to hear so soon of the death of such a man, who promised to live to a great age, and so well deserved to do so.’ She could not help expressing her concern by her tears. The female slaves who were in waiting, and who had often enjoyed the pleasantries of Abou Hassan when he was admitted to familiar conversation with the Princess Zobeidè and the caliph, testified by their weeping the regret they felt at her loss and their sympathy in her distress.
“Princess Zobeidè, her female slaves, and Nouzhatoul Aouadat remained a long time with their handkerchiefs at their eyes, weeping and sobbing at this fancied calamity. At length the princess broke silence: ‘Wretch!’ cried she, speaking to the supposed widow, ‘perhaps thou hast caused his death. Thou hast plagued him so much by thy sad temper, that thou hast at last brought him to the grave.’
“Nouzhatoul Aouadat appeared greatly mortified at this reproach of the Princess Zobeidè. ‘Ah, honoured lady,’ cried she, ‘I did not believe I had ever, during the whole time I had the honour of being your slave, given your majesty the smallest reason for entertaining so disadvantageous an opinion of my behaviour towards a husband so dear to me. I should think myself the most unhappy of women if you were really convinced of its truth. I have paid every fond attention to Abou Hassan which a wife can pay to a husband whom she dotes upon; and I can say without vanity that I have felt for him all the tenderness which he deserved for his ready compliance with my moderate wishes, and which indeed showed that his affection was sincerely given to me. I am convinced he would fully justify me on that subject in your majesty’s opinion if he were still living. But madam,’ added she, her tears flowing afresh, ‘his hour was come: that alone was the cause of his death.’
“In truth, Princess Zobeidè had always observed in her slave a kind and even temper, much unaffected sweetness, a great degree of docility, and a zeal in everything she undertook in her service, which arose more from inclination than duty. She therefore did not hesitate to believe her on her word, and ordered the superintendent of her treasury to bring a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade. The superintendent returned immediately with the purse and the piece of brocade, which, at the Princess Zobeidè’s order, she delivered to Nouzhatoul Aouadat.
“Upon receiving this handsome present the pretended widow threw herself at the Princess Zobeidè’s feet, and made her the most humble acknowledgments, with great secret satisfaction that she had succeeded so well. ‘Go,’ said the Princess Zobeidè, ‘let the piece of brocade be used to spread over your husband on his bier, and spend the money in defraying the expense of a funeral that shall do him the honour he is worthy of. And, as soon as you can control yourself, moderate the excess of your affliction: I will take care of you.’
“As soon as Nouzhatoul Aouadat was safely out of the presence of the Princess Zobeidè, she joyfully dried up her tears, and returned as soon as possible to give Abou Hassan an account of the success she had met with in playing her part. As she entered, Nouzhatoul Aouadat burst into a violent fit of laughing at finding Abou Hassan lying in the same position in which she had left him in the middle of the room, and ready prepared for his funeral. ‘Get up,’ said she, still laughing, ‘and behold the fruits of my visit to the Princess Zobeidè. We shall not die of hunger to-day.’ Abou Hassan quickly got up, and rejoiced with his wife when he saw the purse and the piece of brocade.
“Nouzhatoul Aouadat was so pleased at the happy success of the artifice she had just practised upon her mistress, that she could not contain her joy. ‘This is not enough,’ said she to her husband, laughing; ‘I must pretend to die in my turn; and you shall see whether you will be clever enough to get as much from the caliph as I have from the Princess Zobeidè.’ ‘This is exactly the humour of women,’ replied Abou Hassan; ‘it is very justly said they have always the vanity to think they are superior to men, although they seldom do anything well but by the men’s advice. It is hardly likely that I should not succeed with the caliph as well as you have done, considering it was I who contrived the scheme. But let us lose no time in idle chat; do you now pretend to be dead, and you shall soon see whether I do not manage as well as you have done.’
“Abou Hassan laid out his wife in the same place and in the same manner as he himself had been laid, turned her feet towards Mecca, and went out of his chamber in great disorder, with his turban awry, like a man in great affliction. Thus he went to the caliph, who was then holding a particular council with the grand vizier Giafar and the other viziers in whom he placed the most confidence. Abou Hassan presented himself at the door, and the usher, who knew that he always had free access, opened it to him. He entered, with one hand holding a handkerchief before his eyes to conceal the tears which he feigned to be shedding in abundance, and with the other violently beating his breast, while he uttered exclamations expressive of the greatest grief.
“The caliph, who was accustomed to see Abou Hassan with a cheerful countenance, and considered him as a man who always inspired others with joy, was surprised at seeing him appear in so melancholy a condition. He broke off the business they were then transacting in the council, in order to ask him the occasion of his grief.
“O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Abou Hassan, with repeated sighs and sobs, ‘a greater misfortune could not possibly happen to me than that for which you now see me immersed in grief. May Allah grant a long life to your majesty, and preserve you on that throne which you fill with so much glory. Nouzhatoul Aouadat, whom in your goodness you were pleased to bestow upon me, that I might pass the remainder of my life with her, is, alas——!’ After this exclamation Abou Hassan pretended that his heart was so oppressed that he could not utter another word, but he shed tears abundantly.
“The caliph, who now understood that Abou Hassan came to inform him of the death of his wife, appeared extremely affected at it. ‘Heaven have mercy upon her!’ said he, with an air that showed how much he regretted her. ‘She was a good slave, and the Princess Zobeidè and I gave her to you with the design of making you happy: she was worthy of a longer life.’ The tears trickled from his eyes, and he was forced to take his handkerchief to wipe them away.
“The grief of Abou Hassan and the tears of the caliph drew tears from the grand vizier Giafar and the other viziers. They all lamented the death of Nouzhatoul Aouadat, who, in the meantime, was becoming extremely impatient to know how Abou Hassan had succeeded.
“The caliph for a moment entertained the same opinion of the husband that the Princess Zobeidè had held of the wife, and imagined he had been the cause of her death. He said, in an angry tone of voice, ‘Wretch! hast thou not destroyed thy wife by thy ill-treatment of her? Alas! I have no doubt of it. Thou shouldst at least have had some regard for the Princess Zobeidè my wife, who loved her more than any of her slaves, and who only parted with her in order to give her to thee. Is it thus thou hast shown thy gratitude?’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Abou Hassan, pretending to weep more bitterly than ever, ‘can your majesty for a moment entertain the thought that Abou Hassan, whom you have loaded with your bounty and favours, and on whom you have conferred honours to which he presumed not to aspire, could be capable of so much ingratitude? I loved Nouzhatoul Aouadat my wife as much on account of the generosity that had given her to me, as because she possessed so many excellent qualities that I could not withhold from her all the attachment, all the tenderness, and all the love she deserved. But, alas! your majesty, she was to die, and Heaven has chosen to take away from me the happiness which I held from the bounty of your majesty and that of the Princess Zobeidè your beloved wife.’
“In short, Abou Hassan found means to counterfeit grief so perfectly, with all the outward marks of a true affliction, that the caliph, who indeed had never heard that he had behaved ill to his wife, gave credit to all he said, and never doubted his sincerity. The treasurer of the palace was present, and the caliph ordered him to go to the treasury and give Abou Hassan a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, together with a fine piece of brocade. Abou Hassan immediately threw himself at the feet of the caliph, in token of his gratitude. ‘Follow the treasurer,’ said the caliph; ‘the piece of brocade will serve you to lay over your dead wife, and the money to provide a funeral worthy of her: I have no doubt you will give her this last proof of your love.’
“Abou Hassan made no answer to these kind words of the caliph’s, but bowed profoundly as he retired. He went with the treasurer, and when the purse and the piece of brocade had been delivered to him, he returned to his house perfectly satisfied, and thoroughly happy in himself at having so readily and so easily found means to supply his present necessities, which had occasioned him much anxiety.
“Nouzhatoul Aouadat, tired at the length of time she was kept in imprisonment, did not wait till Abou Hassan should bid her quit her uncomfortable position. As soon as she heard the door open she ran towards him. ‘Tell me,’ said she, ‘has the caliph been as easily imposed upon as the Princess Zobeidè was?’ ‘You see,’ replied Abou Hassan, laughing, and showing her the purse and the piece of brocade, ‘that I know how to counterfeit affliction for the death of a wife who is alive and hearty, as well as you do to mourn for a husband who is not yet dead.’
“Abou Hassan was very sure that this twofold artifice must have its consequences, therefore he cautioned his wife as well as he could upon all that was likely to happen, in order that they might act in concert; and he added, ‘The better we succeed in placing the caliph and Princess Zobeidè in some sort of embarrassment, the more pleased they will at last be, and perhaps they will testify their satisfaction by some fresh marks of their kindness.’ This last consideration induced them to carry on their artifice to the greatest possible length.
“Although there were affairs of importance to settle in the council which was then sitting, the caliph, impatient to go to the Princess Zobeidè to condole with her on the death of her slave, rose very soon after Abou Hassan’s departure, and adjourned the council to another day. The grand vizier and the other viziers took their leave and retired.
“As soon as they were gone, the caliph said to Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs of the palace, who was almost always near his person, and who besides was acquainted with all his designs, ‘Come with me, and sympathise in the grief of the princess for the death of her slave Nouzhatoul Aouadat.’
“They went together to Princess Zobeidè’s apartment. When the caliph was at the door he put back the tapestry a little way, and perceived his wife sitting upon her sofa in great affliction, with her eyes still bathed in tears.
“The caliph entered, and walked up towards Princess Zobeidè. ‘Lady,’ said he, ‘it is unnecessary to tell you how completely I share your affliction, since you are well aware I sympathise in all that gives you pain and in all that gives you pleasure; but we are all mortal, and we must give back to Allah that life which He hath given us whenever He requires it. Nouzhatoul Aouadat your slave had in truth qualities which deservedly gained your esteem, and I think it quite right that you give proofs of it even after her death. Consider, however, that your sorrow will never bring her back again to life. Therefore, if you will follow my advice, you will take comfort upon this loss, and be more careful of your own life, which you know to be very precious to me, and which constitutes the whole happiness of mine.’
Mesrour’s visit to the house of Abou Hassan.
“If Princess Zobeidè was, on the one hand, charmed with the tender sentiments which accompanied the caliph’s compliment, she was, on the other, much surprised to hear of the death of Nouzhatoul Aouadat, which she did not expect. This intelligence threw her into such a state of astonishment that she remained for some time unable to reply. Her surprise was so much increased to hear an account so entirely different from what she had just been told, that it deprived her of speech; at length, upon recovering herself and regaining her voice, she said, with an air and tone still expressive of her astonishment, ‘Commander of the Faithful, I am very grateful for all the tender sentiments which you express towards me; but allow me to say that I do not at all understand the intelligence you give me of the death of my slave. She is in perfect health. Heaven preserve us both, my lord; but you see me afflicted at the death of Abou Hassan her husband, your favourite, whom I esteem as much for the regard I know that you have for him, as because you have had the goodness to introduce him to my acquaintance, and he has sometimes very agreeably entertained me. But, my lord, the indifference which I see you manifest at his death, and the forgetfulness you show in so very little time after the proofs you have given me of the pleasure you derived from having him near you, fill me with surprise and astonishment. And this insensibility appears to me the more strange from the confusion you seem disposed to make by telling me of the death of my slave, instead of speaking of his death.’
“The caliph, who supposed he was perfectly well informed of the death of the slave, and who had reason to feel certain from what he had seen and heard, began to laugh when he heard Princess Zobeidè talk in this manner. ‘Mesrour,’ said he, turning towards the chief of the eunuchs, ‘what say you to this speech? Is it not true that ladies have sometimes strange wanderings of the understanding that one can scarcely believe? For you have both heard and seen the particulars of this affair as well as myself.’ And turning again to Princess Zobeidè he resumed: ‘Lady, shed no more tears for Abou Hassan, for he is perfectly well. Weep rather for the death of your dear slave. It is scarcely a moment since her husband came into my council hall in tears, and so much afflicted as to give me pain, to announce to me the death of his wife. I ordered a purse of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade to be given him towards defraying the funeral expenses of his dead wife. Mesrour here was witness of all that happened, and can tell you the same thing.’
“Princess Zobeidè could not believe the caliph was serious when he spoke thus. She thought he only meant to impose upon her. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ replied she, ‘although it be your custom to jest, I must say that this is not a proper time to do so. What I have been telling you is quite a serious matter. It is not my slave who is dead, but her husband, Abou Hassan, whose fate I lament, and which you ought to lament with me.’
“ ‘And I,’ replied the caliph, becoming now much more serious, ‘tell you without jesting that you are mistaken. It is Nouzhatoul Aouadat who is dead, and it is Abou Hassan who is alive and in perfect health.’
“Princess Zobeidè was piqued at the caliph’s direct contradiction. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ she resumed in an earnest tone, ‘may Heaven keep you from remaining long under this mistake. You would make me suppose that you are not in your right mind. Allow me to repeat once more that it is Abou Hassan who is dead, and that Nouzhatoul Aouadat my slave, widow of the deceased, is certainly alive. It is not an hour since she left me. She came hither quite in despair, and in a state of affliction the very sight of which would have drawn tears from me, even though she had not, amidst continual sobs, told me the real cause of her grief. All my women have been weeping with me, and they can give you the most convincing proofs of the truth of what I say. They will tell you also that I made Nouzhatoul Aouadat a present of a purse of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade; and the grief you observed in my countenance when you entered was as much caused by the death of her husband as by the distress in which I had just seen her. I was even going to send you the expression of my sympathy at the time you made your appearance. ’
“ ‘My good lady,’ cried the caliph, with a loud laugh at these words of Princess Zobeidè, ‘this is a very strange obstinacy of yours; and for my part I must tell you,’ he continued, resuming his serious tone, ‘that it is Nouzhatoul Aouadat who is dead.’ ‘No, I tell you!’ replied Princess Zobeidè, instantly and earnestly, ‘it is Abou Hassan who is dead, you shall never make me believe otherwise.’
“The caliph’s eyes sparkled with anger. He sat down on the sofa, but at a great distance from Princess Zobeidè, and, speaking to Mesrour, said, ‘Go this moment and see which of the two is dead, and instantly bring me word. Although I am quite certain that Nouzhatoul Aouadat is dead, I would rather take this step than be any longer obstinate in a matter of which I am nevertheless perfectly convinced.’
“The caliph had hardly finished speaking before Mesrour was gone. ‘You will see in a moment,’ continued he, speaking to Princess Zobeidè, ‘who is right, you or I.’ ‘For my part,’ replied Princess Zobeidè, ‘I very well know that I am right, and you will yourself see that it is Abou Hassan who is dead, as I told you.’ ‘And I,’ retorted the caliph, ‘am so assured that it is Nouzhatoul Aouadat that I will bet you any wager you please that she is dead, and that Abou Hassan is very well.’ ‘Do not think to carry your point so,’ replied Princess Zobeidè: ‘I accept your wager. I am so convinced of the death of Abou Hassan that I am ready to stake whatever I hold most precious against what you please, be it of never so little value. You very well know my tastes and likings, and, therefore, what I love best; you have only to choose and propose. I will abide by your word, be the consequence what it may.’ ‘Since this is the case,’ said the caliph, ‘I stake my garden of delights against your palace of pictures. One is as good as the other.’ Princess Zobeidè replied, ‘Whether your garden is better than my palace is not at present the question between us. The business is for you to select whatever you please of mine to set against what you may bet on your part. I will consent to it, and the wager is settled. I shall not be the first to retract, I declare to Heaven.’ The caliph, on his part, replied just as positively, and they waited in expectation of Mesrour’s return.
“While the caliph and Princess Zobeidè were contending so earnestly and with so much warmth whether it was Abou Hassan or Nouzhatoul Aouadat who was dead, Abou Hassan, who had foreseen that altercation would ensue upon this point, was on the alert to be prepared for whatever might happen. When he saw Mesrour at a distance through the lattice near which he sat conversing with his wife, and observed that the chief of the eunuchs was coming straight to their apartments, he immediately understood for what purpose he had been sent. He told his wife to pretend to be dead once more, as they had before agreed, and to make her preparations quickly.
“In fact there was no time to lose, and it was as much as he could do before Mesrour arrived to place his wife upon the ground again, and to spread over her the piece of brocade which the caliph had ordered to be given to him. He then opened the door of his apartment, and with a melancholy and dejected countenance, holding his handkerchief before his eyes, seated himself at the head of the pretended corpse.
“Scarcely was he ready when Mesrour entered the chamber. The fu nereal preparations which met the eyes of the chief of the eunuchs gave him secret pleasure as far as it regarded the commission with which he was entrusted by the caliph. As soon as Abou Hassan saw him he rose to meet him, and respectfully kissing his hand said, sighing and lamenting, ‘O my friend, you see me in the greatest affliction possible for the death of my dear wife Nouzhatoul Aouadat, whom you honoured with your kindness.’
“Mesrour was much affected at this address, and could not refuse the tribute of a few tears to the memory of the dead lady. He lifted up the cloth which covered the body that he might look at her face; and letting it fall again, after he had glanced at her countenance, he said, with a deep sigh: ‘There is no other God but Allah: we must all submit to His will, and every creature must return to Him. Nouzhatoul Aouadat, my good sister! ’ added he, sighing again, ‘your destiny has been very quickly fulfilled. May Heaven have mercy upon you!’ He then turned towards Abou Hassan, who was bathed in tears, and observed: ‘The saying is true which tells us that women sometimes know not what they say, which cannot be excused. Princess Zobeidè, my most excellent mistress, is now in this predicament. She persisted in maintaining to the caliph that it was you who were dead, and not your wife. And, let the caliph say what he will to the contrary, to convince her by the strongest and most serious assurances, he cannot succeed in altering her conviction. He even called me as a witness to vouch for the truth of his assertion, since you well know I was present when you came to tell him this afflicting news; but all was to no purpose. They were so earnest and obstinate in their altercation, that it would never have ended if the caliph, in order to convince the Princess Zobeidè, had not determined to send me hither to ascertain the truth. But I am afraid it will be in vain; for try your very utmost with women to make them understand a matter, and you will find them unconquerably obstinate when once they have taken a thing into their heads.’
“ ‘Heaven preserve the Commander of the Faithful in the possession and good use of his excellent understanding,’ replied Abou Hassan, the tears still in his eyes, and his words interrupted by sobs. ‘You see the state of the case, and that I have not imposed upon his majesty; and would to Heaven,’ cried the deceiver, the better to carry on the cheat, ‘that I had never had occasion to go to him with such melancholy, such heart-rending information. Alas! I cannot find words to express the irreparable loss I have this day sustained.’ ‘You speak truth,’ replied Mesrour; ‘and I can assure you I sympathise very sincerely in your affliction. However, you must be comforted, and not thus entirely give way to your grief. I must now reluctantly leave you to return to the caliph; but I beg as a favour,’ continued he, ‘that you will not let the body be carried away until I return; for I am desirous of being present at my poor friend’s interment, and wish to follow her with my prayers.’
“Mesrour was going away to give the caliph an account of his commission, when Abou Hassan, who accompanied him to the door, observed that he had no claim to the honour the chief of the eunuchs intended him. Lest Mesrour should turn back immediately to say something else, he followed him with his eyes for some time; and when he saw him at a considerable distance, he came back to his chamber and freed Nouzhatoul Aouadat from the covering under which she lay. ‘This is a new scene in our play,’ said he; ‘but I suppose it will not be the last. The Princess Zobeidè will certainly not pay any regard to Mesrour’s report, but, on the contrary, will laugh at him: she has every reason to disbelieve him; so that we must expect some new event.’ While Abou Hassan was saying this, Nouzhatoul Aouadat had time to put on her dress again. Then they resumed their seats near the lattice, and waited to see what would happen next.
“In the meantime Mesrour reached the Princess Zobeidè’s apartment. He entered her cabinet, laughing and clapping his hands as a man would do who had something agreeable to communicate. The caliph was naturally of an impatient temper. He wished to have the matter instantly cleared up; besides, he was urged on to it by his wife’s challenge. As soon, therefore, as he saw Mesrour, he cried out: ‘Thou wicked slave, this is no time for laughing. What hast thou to say? Speak out boldly: who is dead—the husband or the wife?’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ immediately answered Mesrour, putting on a serious countenance, ‘it is Nouzhatoul Aouadat who is dead; and Abou Hassan is still as much overwhelmed with grief as when he lately appeared before your majesty.’
“Without giving Mesrour time to say more, the caliph broke out into a loud fit of laughter. ‘Good news!’ cried he; ‘only a moment since, the Princess Zobeidè, your mistress, was the owner of the palace of pictures; it is now mine. It was betted against my garden of delights since you left us; so that you could not have given me greater pleasure than by the news you bring. I will take care to reward you. But no more of this: tell me every particular of what you have seen.’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ Mesrour went on, ‘when I reached Abou Hassan’s apartments I went into his chamber, which was open. I found him still weeping, and in deep grief at the death of his wife Nouzhatoul Aouadat. He was seated near the head of the dead lady, who was lying in the middle of the room, with her feet turned towards Mecca. The corpse was covered with the piece of brocade which your majesty lately presented to Abou Hassan. After expressing my sympathy with his grief, I drew near; and, lifting the covering from the face of the deceased, I knew Nouzhatoul Aouadat, whose face was already swollen and much changed. I very earnestly exhorted Abou Hassan to be comforted; and, when I came away, I expressed my wish to be present at the interment of his wife, and requested that he would not suffer the corpse to be carried to the grave till I should come. This is all I have to tell your majesty with regard to the fulfilment of the order which you gave me.’
“When Mesrour had finished his report, the caliph laughed very heartily, and said, ‘I will ask you no more questions; I am perfectly satisfied with your exactness.’ And, addressing the Princess Zobeidè, he continued: ‘Now, lady, have you anything still to say in opposition to such evidence as this? Do you continue to think that Nouzhatoul Aouadat is still living, and that Abou Hassan is dead? and do you not confess that you have lost your wager?’
“Princess Zobeidè was by no means satisfied that Mesrour had made a true report. ‘How, my lord, can you think that I shall believe this slave?’ she retorted; ‘he is an impertinent fellow, who knows not what he says. I am neither blind nor deprived of my reason. I have seen with my own eyes Nouzhatoul Aouadat in the greatest affliction. I have myself spoken to her, and I heard perfectly what she told me concerning the death of her husband.’
“ ‘Lady,’ returned Mesrour, ‘I swear by your life, and by the life of the Commander of the Faithful (the most precious things in the world to me), that Nouzhatoul is dead, and that Abou Hassan is alive.’ ‘Thou liest, vile and contemptible slave!’ cried the Princess Zobeidè, in a violent passion; ‘and I will confound thee in a moment.’ She immediately called her women by clapping her hands. They instantly entered at her summons. ‘Come hither,’ said the princess to them; ‘tell me the truth: who was it that came to me a short time before the Commander of the Faithful made his visit here?’ The women all answered that it was the poor wretched Nouzhatoul Aouadat. And, speaking to her treasuress, the Princess Zobeidè demanded: ‘What was it I ordered you to give her when she went away?’ ‘O lady,’ replied the treasuress, ‘I gave to Nouzhatoul Aouadat, by your majesty’s order, a purse with a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade, which she took away with her.’ ‘Well, then, thou wretch! thou unworthy slave!’ said the Princess Zobeidè to Mesrour, in great indignation, ‘what canst thou say to all thou hast now heard? Whom thinkest thou I am now to believe; thee, or my treasuress, my women, and my own eyes?’
Altercation between the nurse and Mesrour.
“Mesrour might easily have answered his mistress to some purpose; but, as he was afraid of irritating her still more, he chose to play a prudent part, and remain silent, thoroughly convinced all the while by the proofs he had seen that Nouzhatoul Aouadat was dead, and not Abou Hassan.
“During this altercation between the Princess Zobeidè and Mesrour, the caliph, who had heard the proofs brought on both sides, and which each party thought convincing, and who felt assured, as well by what had passed in his own conversation with Abou Hassan as by what Mesrour had just reported, that the Princess Zobeidè was wrong, laughed heartily at seeing the Princess Zobeidè in such a rage with Mesrour. ‘Lady, let me observe once more,’ said he to her, ‘that I know not who it was that said women are sometimes beside themselves; allow me to say that you make the truth of that saying very apparent. Mesrour is but just returned from Abou Hassan’s apartments: he tells you he has seen with his own eyes Nouzhatoul Aouadat lying dead in the middle of her chamber, and Abou Hassan sitting near the corpse; and notwithstanding this testimony, which cannot reasonably be doubted, you persist in your former opinion. It is a matter I cannot understand.’
“Princess Zobeidè seemed not to attend to this remonstrance of the caliph. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ returned she, ‘pardon me if I have a little suspicion of you. I see plainly that you are leagued with Mesrour in a design to thwart me, and to try my patience to the utmost. And as I perceive that the report which Mesrour has made was arranged between you, I beg you will allow me to send a person on my part to Abou Hassan’s apartments, that I may know whether I am really in error.’
“The caliph gave his consent, and his wife sent her nurse upon this important errand. This nurse was a woman far advanced in life. She had always remained with the Princess Zobeidè from her infancy, and was now present with the other women. ‘Nurse,’ said the lady, ‘attend to what I say. Go to Abou Hassan’s house, or rather to that of Nouzhatoul Aouadat, since Abou Hassan is dead. You hear the discussion I have had with the Commander of the Faithful and with Mesrour. I need not say any more to you. Clear up the whole matter to me; and if you bring me back a good account a valuable present shall be made to you. Go quickly, and return without delay.’
“The nurse departed, to the great joy of the caliph, who was delighted to see the Princess Zobeidè in this embarrassment; but Mesrour, extremely mortified at seeing his mistress so angry with him, was pondering by what means he should appease her, and contrive that the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè should both be satisfied with him. For this reason he was delighted when he saw the Princess Zobeidè determined to send her nurse to Abou Hassan’s, because he felt convinced that the report the nurse would make would correspond entirely with his own, and would serve to justify him and restore him again to her favour.
“Meanwhile Abou Hassan, who had been keeping watch at the lattice, perceived the nurse at some distance. He immediately conjectured what must be the errand on which the Princess Zobeidè had sent her. He called his wife, and without a moment’s hesitation as to what was to be done, said: ‘Here comes your lady’s nurse to inquire into the truth. I must again play the dead man in my turn.’
“Everything was soon ready. Nouzhatoul Aouadat placed Abou Hassan upon the ground, threw over him the piece of brocade which the Princess Zobeidè had given her, and placed the turban on his face. The nurse, in her eagerness to execute her commission, was meanwhile approaching as quickly as she could. Entering the chamber, she perceived Nouzhatoul Aouadat, all in tears, with her hair dishevelled, beating her breast and cheeks, and uttering loud lamentations.
“She drew near this pretended widow, and said in a very melancholy tone of voice: ‘O my dear Nouzhatoul Aouadat, I am not come to disturb your grief, nor to prevent your shedding tears for a husband who loved you so tenderly.’ ‘Ah, my good mother,’ instantly replied the disconsolate widow, in a tone that seemed to speak the deepest grief, ‘you see to what a wretched situation I am reduced, overwhelmed as I am with distress at the loss of my dear Abou Hassan, whom the Princess Zobeidè, my dear mistress and yours, and the Commander of the Faithful had given me for a husband. Abou Hassan, my beloved husband,’ cried she again, ‘what have I done that you should so soon abandon me? Have I not always followed your inclination rather than my own? Alas! what will become of the poor Nouzhatoul Aouadat?’
“The nurse was in utter astonishment at seeing a state of things entirely opposite to what the chief of the eunuchs had reported to the caliph. ‘The curse of Allah be upon this black-faced Mesrour!’ exclaimed she earnestly, raising her hands on high, ‘for having been the occasion of so great a quarrel between my good mistress and the Commander of the Faithful by the notorious lies he has told them!’ Then addressing herself to Nouzhatoul Aouadat, she continued: ‘My dear child, I must tell you the wickedness and falsehood of this wretch Mesrour, who has maintained with inconceivable impudence to our good mistress that you were dead, and that Abou Hassan was living.’ ‘Alas! my good mother,’ cried Nouzhatoul Aouadat, ‘would to Heaven he had spoken the truth! I should not be overwhelmed with affliction as you see me now, nor be lamenting a husband who was so dear to me.’ At these last words she melted into tears, and bewailed her forlorn state with renewed cries and lamentations.
“The nurse was much affected by the tears of Nouzhatoul Aouadat. She seated herself near the supposed widow, and shed many tears. Then she silently approached the head of Abou Hassan, raised his turban a little, and uncovered his face, to see whether she would know him. ‘Ah, poor Abou Hassan,’ said she, covering him again almost directly, ‘I pray Heaven to have mercy upon you! Farewell, my child,’ she continued, turning to the mourner; ‘if I could stay with you a longer time I should be glad to do so. But I must not stop a moment; my duty urges me to go instantly, and deliver my good mistress from the distressful state of anxiety into which that black villain has thrown her by his impudent falsehood, in assuring her with an oath that you were dead.’
“Princess Zobeidè’s nurse had scarcely closed the door upon leaving them when Nouzhatoul Aouadat, who was well satisfied the visitor would not come back, as she was in such haste to return to the princess, wiped her eyes and took off the things in which Abou Hassan was wrapped. Then they returned together to their places on the sofa, patiently waiting for the event of their artifice, and prepared to get out of the difficulty whatever turn the matter should take.
“Princess Zobeidè’s nurse in the meantime, notwithstanding her great age, returned even more quickly than she had gone. The pleasure of bringing the princess a good account, and still more the hope of a reward for herself, winged her steps. She entered the cabinet of the princess almost out of breath, and gave an account of her commission, relating in an artless manner all she had seen.
“Princess Zobeidè heard the nurse’s report with a satisfaction she could not conceal. The moment her messenger had ceased speaking, she said to the nurse, in a tone of triumph at having gained her point: ‘Repeat what you have told me to the Commander of the Faithful, who looks upon us as deprived of our senses, and who besides would have it thought that we have no sentiment of religion—that we have no fear of Allah! And speak to this wicked black slave, who has the insolence to maintain to my face what is not true in a matter which I understand better than he does.’
“Mesrour, who expected that the nurse’s expedition and the report she was to make would prove favourable, was excessively mortified to find that all had turned out quite differently. Besides, he was very much chagrined at the great displeasure which the Princess Zobeidè showed towards him about a matter which appeared to him the simplest thing in the world. For this reason he was much pleased at having an opportunity of explaining himself freely to the nurse rather than to the princess, whom he did not presume to answer, for fear of being thought guilty of disrespect. ‘Thou toothless old woman,’ said he to the nurse, ‘I tell thee plainly thou art a liar: there is not a word of truth in what thou sayest. I saw with my own eyes Nouzhatoul Aouadat lying dead in the middle of her chamber. ’ ‘Thou art a liar, a notorious liar, thyself!’ replied the nurse, with a furious air, ‘to dare to maintain such a falsehood to me, who am just returned from Abou Hassan’s house. I saw him lying dead; and I left his wife in great grief, but perfectly alive.’
“ ‘I am not an impostor,’ replied Mesrour; ‘it is thou who art trying to mislead us.’ ‘What a gross piece of impudence,’ retorted the nurse, ‘to presume thus to charge me with a falsehood in the presence of their majesties, when I am just returned from seeing with my own eyes the truth of what I have the honour of reporting!’ ‘Nurse,’ rejoined Mesrour, ‘thou hadst better say no more; thou art doting.’
“Princess Zobeidè could no longer bear this want of respect in Mesrour, who was treating her nurse so contemptuously in her presence. Without, therefore, giving her nurse time to make answer to this atrocious reproach, she cried out to the caliph: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I appeal to your justice respecting this insolent behaviour, which concerns you as much as myself.’ She could say no more. Her vexation overcame her, and she burst into tears.
“The caliph, who had heard all this altercation, was very much embarrassed. It was to no purpose that he silently gave all possible attention to the matter. He knew not what to think of so much contradiction. The princess, for her part, as well as Mesrour, the nurse, and the female slaves who were present, knew not what to think of it, and were all silent. The caliph at last spoke. ‘Lady,’ said he, addressing himself to the Princess Zobeidè, ‘I see clearly we are all liars; I first, you next, then Mesrour, and then the nurse; at least it appears that no one of us is more worthy of credit than the rest. So let us rise and go ourselves, that we may see with our own eyes on which side the truth lies. I see no other way of clearing up our doubts and quieting our minds.’
“Saying this, the caliph rose. The Princess Zobeidè followed him, and Mesrour walked before to open the door. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ said he, ‘I am much rejoiced your majesty has taken this step; and I shall be still more glad when I have convinced the nurse, not that she is doting, because that expression has had the misfortune to offend my good mistress, but that the report she made is not true.’ The nurse replied angrily: ‘Hold thy tongue, blackface! there is no dotard here but thyself.’
“Princess Zobeidè, who was ususually angry with Mesrour, could not bear that he should again attack her nurse. She took her follower’s part. ‘Thou vile slave!’ said she, ‘whatever thou mayest say, I still maintain that my nurse has spoken the truth; thee I can only regard as a liar.’ ‘O my gracious mistress,’ answered Mesrour, ‘if the nurse is so truly assured that Nouzhatoul Aouadat is alive, and that Abou Hassan is dead, let her lay some wager with me: she would not dare.’ The nurse was ready with an answer. ‘I will readily dare,’ said she, ‘and take thee at thy word. Let us see whether thou wilt stand to it.’ Mesrour kept his word. The nurse and he made a wager, in the presence of the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè, of a piece of gold brocade with silver flowers, the pattern to be chosen by the winner.
“The apartment which the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè left, although at some distance from those in which Abou Hassan and Nouzhatoul Aouadat lived, was directly opposite to them. Abou Hassan, who saw them coming, preceded by Mesrour and followed by the nurse with a great number of the Princess Zobeidè’s women, immediately apprised his wife of this circumstance, telling her that he was greatly mistaken if they were not to be soon honoured by a royal visit. Nouzhatoul Aouadat looked through the lattice, and saw the procession coming. Although her husband had told her beforehand what was likely to happen, she was nevertheless surprised. ‘What shall we do?’ cried she; ‘we are ruined!’ ‘Not at all; don’t be afraid,’ returned Abou Hassan, very coolly; ‘have you already forgotten what we have said upon this subject? Let us both pretend to be dead, as we have each of us pretended before, and as we have agreed we would do, and you shall see that all will turn out well. At the rate at which they are coming we shall be ready before they reach the door.’
“In fact, Abou Hassan and his wife determined to cover themselves as well as they could; and, after they had placed themselves one beside the other in the middle of the chamber, each under a piece of brocade, they waited quietly for the arrival of the company who were coming to visit them.
“The illustrious visitors presently appeared. Mesrour opened the door, and the caliph and the Princess Zobeidè entered the chamber, followed by all their attendants. They were much surprised, and stood silent for a time, looking at the dismal spectacle which presented itself to their view. No one knew what to think of the matter. Princess Zobeidè at last broke silence. ‘Alas!’ said she to the caliph, ‘both are dead! This is your doing,’ she went on, looking at the caliph and Mesrour. ‘Why did you obstinately endeavour to impose upon me that my dear slave was dead? Indeed she is dead now, doubtless for grief at having lost her husband.’ ‘Say rather,’ replied the caliph, with a contrary prejudice, ‘that Nouzhatoul Aouadat died first, and that the poor Abou Hassan expired under the affliction of seeing his wife, your dear slave, die. So you must allow that you have lost your wager, and that the palace of pictures is now fairly mine.’ ‘And I,’ replied the Princess Zobeidè, with a spirit excited by the contradiction of the caliph, ‘maintain that you have lost, and that your favourite garden belongs to me. Abou Hassan died first; did not my nurse tell you, as well as I, that she saw his wife alive, and lamenting her husband’s death?’
Abou Hassan winning the thousand pieces of gold.
“This altercation of the caliph with Princess Zobeidè brought on another debate. Mesrour and the nurse were as unconvinced as their superiors. They too had betted, and each claimed to be the winner. The dispute was extremely warm between the chief eunuch and the nurse, who were proceeding to abuse each other roundly.
“At last the caliph, reflecting upon all that had happened, agreed that the Princess Zobeidè had as much reason as himself to maintain that she was the winner. Mortified at not being able to come at the truth in this matter, he drew near the two dead bodies, and seated himself near their heads, endeavouring to think of some method which should determine the wager in his own favour and against the Princess Zobeidè. ‘Yes,’ cried he, a moment after, ‘I swear by the holy name of Allah that I will give a thousand pieces of my own money to the person who shall ascertain for me which of the two died first.’
“The caliph had scarcely said these last words when he heard a voice from under the brocade which covered Abou Hassan cry out, ‘Comman der of the Faithful, it was I who died first: give me the thousand pieces of gold.’ And at the same time Abou Hassan freed himself from the brocade which covered him, and threw himself at the caliph’s feet. His wife rose up in the same manner, and ran to throw herself at the feet of Zobeidè; but out of decency she wrapped herself in the brocade. Princess Zobeidè set up a loud cry, which increased the terror of all those who were present. The princess at last recovered from her fright, and was overjoyed at seeing her dear slave living again, for she had felt inconsolable at having seen her dead. ‘Ah, you wicked one!’ cried she, ‘you have made me suffer much for your sake in more ways than one! I pardon you, however, from the bottom of my heart, since I find that you are not really dead.’
“The caliph on his part had not taken the thing so much to heart. Far from being afraid when he heard Abou Hassan’s voice, he was nearly bursting with laughter when he saw the pair of corpses freeing themselves from their coverings, and heard Abou Hassan very seriously demanding the thousand pieces of gold which he had promised to the person who should ascertain which died first. ‘So, then, Abou Hassan,’ said the caliph, laughing very heartily, ‘have you determined to make me die with laughter? How came it into your head thus to surprise both the Princess Zobeidè and I, in a way against which we could not possibly guard?’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Abou Hassan, ‘I will tell you the whole truth without disguise. Your majesty very well knows that I always had a love for good living. The wife you gave me has not taught me economy in this point; on the contrary, I have found in her an inclination to encourage this propensity. With such dispositions, your majesty will easily believe that had our purse been as deep as the sea, and had we possessed all the wealth of your majesty, we should soon have found the means of squandering it. Ever since we have been together we have saved nothing, but have lived merely upon your majesty’s bounty. This morning, after settling accounts with our cook, we found upon satisfying his demand and paying some other debts that there remained nothing of all the money you had given us. Then reflections on the past and resolutions to do better in future crowded on our minds: we proposed a thousand schemes, each of which we had to abandon. At last, the shame of seeing ourselves reduced to so wretched a situation, and our reluctance to inform your majesty of it, set us upon inventing this plan to supply our wants, by amusing you with a little artifice, which we entreat your majesty will have the goodness to forgive.’
“The caliph and Princess Zobeidè were very well satisfied with the sincerity of Abou Hassan. They did not seem at all angry at what had occurred; on the contrary, the Princess Zobeidè, who had hitherto taken the matter in too serious a light, could not help laughing, in her turn, at the thought of all that Abou Hassan had devised to bring about his design. The caliph, who had scarcely once ceased laughing, so singular did the scheme appear to him, said to Abou Hassan and his wife, as he rose, ‘Fol low me, both of you: I will give you the thousand pieces of gold that I promised you, for the joy I feel that you are neither of you dead.’
“ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ resumed Princess Zobeidè, ‘content yourself, I beseech you, with causing the thousand pieces of gold to be given to Abou Hassan; you owe them only to him: leave me to content his wife.’ So saying, she ordered her treasuress, who had come with her, to give a thousand pieces of gold to Nouzhatoul Aouadat also, as a token of the joy she felt to see that her favourite was still alive.
“Abou Hassan and Nouzhatoul Aouadat for a long time preserved the favour of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid and of Princess Zobeidè, and gained enough from their bounty abundantly to supply all their wants for the remainder of their lives.”
The Sultana Scheherazade, when she had finished the history of Abou Hassan, promised Schahriar to relate to him on the morrow another story which should amuse him just as much as the adventure of the Sleeper Awakened. Dinarzade did not fail to remind her of her promise before it was daylight, and the sultan having expressed a wish that she should begin, Scheherazade immediately related the following history:—
