The Arabian Nights (New Deluxe Edition) (7 page)

BOOK: The Arabian Nights (New Deluxe Edition)
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When the ox finished, the donkey turned to him and said, “Greenhorn, they were right in calling you ox, for you ox harbor no deceit, malice, or meanness. Being sincere, you exert and exhaust yourself to comfort others. Have you not heard the saying ‘Out of bad luck, they hastened on the road'? You go into the field from early morning to endure your torture at the plow to the point of exhaustion. When the plowman takes you back and ties you to the trough, you go on butting and beating with your horns, kicking with your hoofs, and bellowing for the beans, until they toss them to you; then you begin to eat. Next time, when they bring them to you, don't eat or even touch them, but smell them, then draw back and lie down on the hay and straw. If you do this, life will be better and kinder to you, and you will find relief.”

As the ox listened, he was sure that the donkey had given him good advice. He thanked him, commended him to God, and invoked His blessing on him, and said, “May you stay safe from harm, watchful one.” All of this conversation took place, daughter, while the merchant listened and understood. On the following day, the plowman came to the merchant's house and, taking the ox, placed the yoke upon his neck and worked him at the plow, but the ox lagged behind. The plowman hit him, but following the donkey's advice, the ox, dissembling, fell on his belly, and the plowman hit him again. Thus the ox kept getting up and falling until nightfall, when the plowman took him home and tied him to the trough. But this time the ox did not bellow or kick the ground with his hoofs. Instead, he withdrew, away from the trough. Astonished, the plowman brought him his beans and fodder, but the ox only smelled the fodder and pulled back and lay down at a distance with the hay and straw, complaining till the morning. When the plowman arrived, he found the trough as he had left it, full of beans and fodder, and saw the ox lying on his back, hardly breathing, his belly puffed, and his legs raised in the air. The plowman felt sorry for him and said to himself, “By God, he did seem weak and unable to work.” Then he went to the merchant and said, “Master, last night, the ox refused to eat or touch his fodder.”

The merchant, who knew what was going on, said to the plowman, “Go to the wily donkey, put him to the plow, and work him hard until he finishes the ox's task.” The plowman left, took the donkey, and placed the yoke upon his neck. Then he took him out to the field and drove him with blows until he finished the ox's work, all the while driving him with blows and beating him until his sides were lacerated and his neck was flayed. At nightfall he took him home, barely able to drag his legs under his tired body and his drooping ears. Meanwhile the ox spent his day resting. He ate all his food, drank his water, and lay quietly, chewing his cud in comfort. All day long he kept praising the donkey's advice and invoking God's blessing on him. When the donkey came back at night, the ox stood up to greet him, saying, “Good evening, watchful one! You have done me a favor beyond description, for I have been sitting in comfort. God bless you for my sake.” Seething with anger, the donkey did not reply, but said to himself, “All this happened to me because of my miscalculation. ‘I would be sitting pretty, but for my curiosity.' If I don't find a way to return this ox to his former situation, I will perish.” Then he went to his trough and lay down, while the ox continued to chew his cud and invoke God's blessing on him.

“YOU, MY DAUGHTER,
will likewise perish because of your miscalculation. Desist, sit quietly, and don't expose yourself to peril. I advise you out of compassion for you.” She replied, “Father, I must go to the king, and you must give me to him.” He said, “Don't do it.” She insisted, “I must.” He replied, “If you don't desist, I will do to you what the merchant did to his wife.” She asked, “Father, what did the merchant do to his wife?” He said:

[The Tale of the Merchant and His Wife]

AFTER WHAT HAD
happened to the donkey and the ox, the merchant and his wife went out in the moonlight to the stable, and he heard the donkey ask the ox in his own language, “Listen, ox, what are you going to do tomorrow morning, and what will you do when the plowman brings you your fodder?” The ox replied, “What shall I do but follow your advice and stick to it? If he brings me my fodder, I will pretend to be ill, lie down, and puff my belly.” The donkey shook his head, and said, “Don't do it. Do you know what I heard our master the merchant say to the plowman?” The ox asked, “What?” The donkey replied, “He said that if the ox failed to get up and eat his fodder, he would call the butcher to slaughter him and skin him and would distribute the meat for alms and use the skin for a mat. I am afraid for you, but good advice is a matter of faith; therefore, if he brings you your fodder, eat it and look alert lest they cut your throat and skin you.” The ox farted and bellowed.

The merchant got up and laughed loudly at the conversation between the donkey and the ox, and his wife asked him, “What are you laughing at? Are you making fun of me?” He said, “No.” She said, “Tell me what made you laugh.” He replied, “I cannot tell you. I am afraid to disclose the secret conversation of the animals.” She asked, “And what prevents you from telling me?” He answered, “The fear of death.” His wife said, “By God, you are lying. This is nothing but an excuse. I swear by God, the Lord of heaven, that if you don't tell me and explain the cause of your laughter, I will leave you. You must tell me.” Then she went back to the house crying, and she continued to cry till the morning. The merchant said, “Damn it! Tell me why you are crying. Ask for God's forgiveness, and stop questioning and leave me in peace.” She said, “I insist and will not desist.” Amazed at her, he replied, “You insist! If I tell you what the donkey said to the ox, which made me laugh, I shall die.” She said, “Yes, I insist, even if you have to die.” He replied, “Then call your family,” and she called their two daughters, her parents and relatives, and some neighbors. The merchant told them that he was about to die, and everyone, young and old, his children, the farmhands, and the servants began to cry until the house became a place of mourning. Then he summoned legal witnesses, wrote a will, leaving his wife and children their due portions, freed his slave-girls, and bid his family good-bye, while everybody, even the witnesses, wept. Then the wife's parents approached her and said, “Desist, for if your husband had not known for certain that he would die if he revealed his secret, he wouldn't have gone through all this.” She replied, “I will not change my mind,” and everybody cried and prepared to mourn his death.

Well, my daughter Shahrazad, it happened that the farmer kept fifty hens and a rooster at home, and while he felt sad to depart this world and leave his children and relatives behind, pondering and about to reveal and utter his secret, he overheard a dog of his say something in dog language to the rooster, who, beating and clapping his wings, had jumped on a hen and, finishing with her, jumped down and jumped on another. The merchant heard and understood what the dog said in his own language to the rooster, “Shameless, no-good rooster. Aren't you ashamed to do such a thing on a day like this?” The rooster asked, “What is special about this day?” The dog replied, “Don't you know that our master and friend is in mourning today? His wife is demanding that he disclose his secret, and when he discloses it, he will surely die. He is in this predicament, about to interpret to her the language of the animals, and all of us are mourning for him, while you clap your wings and get off one hen and jump on another. Aren't you ashamed?” The merchant heard the rooster reply, “You fool, you lunatic! Our master and friend claims to be wise, but he is foolish, for he has only one wife, yet he does not know how to manage her.” The dog asked, “What should he do with her?”

The rooster replied, “He should take an oak branch, push her into a room, lock the door, and fall on her with the stick, beating her mercilessly until he breaks her arms and legs and she cries out, ‘I no longer want you to tell me or explain anything.' He should go on beating her until he cures her for life, and she will never oppose him in anything. If he does this, he will live, and live in peace, and there will be no more grief, but he does not know how to manage.” Well, my daughter Shahrazad, when the merchant heard the conversation between the dog and the rooster, he jumped up and, taking an oak branch, pushed his wife into a room, got in with her, and locked the door. Then he began to beat her mercilessly on her chest and shoulders and kept beating her until she cried for mercy, screaming, “No, no, I don't want to know anything. Leave me alone, leave me alone. I don't want to know anything,” until he got tired of hitting her and opened the door. The wife emerged penitent, the husband learned good management, and everybody was happy, and the mourning turned into a celebration.

“IF YOU DON'T
relent, I shall do to you what the merchant did to his wife.” She said, “Such tales don't deter me from my request. If you wish, I can tell you many such tales. In the end, if you don't take me to King Shahrayar, I shall go to him by myself behind your back and tell him that you have refused to give me to one like him and that you have begrudged your master one like me.” The vizier asked, “Must you really do this?” She replied, “Yes, I must.”

Tired and exhausted, the vizier went to King Shahrayar and, kissing the ground before him, told him about his daughter, adding that he would give her to him that very night. The king was astonished and said to him, “Vizier, how is it that you have found it possible to give me your daughter, knowing that I will, by God, the Creator of heaven, ask you to put her to death the next morning and that if you refuse, I will have you put to death too?” He replied, “My King and Lord, I have told her everything and explained all this to her, but she refuses and insists on being with you tonight.” The king was delighted and said, “Go to her, prepare her, and bring her to me early in the evening.”

The vizier went down, repeated the king's message to his daughter, and said, “May God not deprive me of you.” She was very happy and, after preparing herself and packing what she needed, went to her younger sister, Dinarzad, and said, “Sister, listen well to what I am telling you. When I go to the king, I will send for you, and when you come and see that the king has finished with me, say, ‘Sister, if you are not sleepy, tell us a story.' Then I will begin to tell a story, and it will cause the king to stop his practice, save myself, and deliver the people.” Dinarzad replied, “Very well.”

At nightfall the vizier took Shahrazad and went with her to the great King Shahrayar. But when Shahrayar took her to bed and began to fondle her, she wept, and when he asked her, “Why are you crying?” she replied, “I have a sister, and I wish to bid her good-bye before daybreak.” Then the king sent for the sister, who came and went to sleep under the bed. When the night wore on, she woke up and waited until the king had satisfied himself with her sister Shahrazad and they were by now all fully awake. Then Dinarzad cleared her throat and said, “Sister, if you are not sleepy, tell us one of your lovely little tales to while away the night, before I bid you good-bye at daybreak, for I don't know what will happen to you tomorrow.” Shahrazad turned to King Shahrayar and said, “May I have your permission to tell a story?” He replied, “Yes,” and Shahrazad was very happy and said, “Listen”:

T
HE
F
IRST
N
IGHT

[The Story of the Merchant and the Demon]

It is said, O wise and happy King, that once there was a prosperous merchant who had abundant wealth and investments and commitments in every country. He had many women and children and kept many servants and slaves. One day, having resolved to visit another country, he took provisions, filling his saddlebag with loaves of bread and with dates, mounted his horse, and set out on his journey. For many days and nights, he journeyed under God's care until he reached his destination. When he finished his business, he turned back to his home and family. He journeyed for three days, and on the fourth day, chancing to come to an orchard, went in to avoid the heat and shade himself from the sun of the open country. He came to a spring under a walnut tree and, tying his horse, sat by the spring, pulled out from the saddlebag some loaves of bread and a handful of dates, and began to eat, throwing the date pits right and left until he had had enough. Then he got up, performed his ablutions, and performed his prayers.

But hardly had he finished when he saw an old demon, with sword in hand, standing with his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds. The demon approached until he stood before him and screamed, saying, “Get up, so that I may kill you with this sword, just as you have killed my son.” When the merchant saw and heard the demon, he was terrified and awestricken. He asked, “Master, for what crime do you wish to kill me?” The demon replied, “I wish to kill you because you have killed my son.” The merchant asked, “Who has killed your son?” The demon replied, “You have killed my son.” The merchant said, “By God, I did not kill your son. When and how could that have been?” The demon said, “Didn't you sit down, take out some dates from your saddlebag, and eat, throwing the pits right and left?” The merchant replied, “Yes, I did.” The demon said, “You killed my son, for as you were throwing the stones right and left, my son happened to be walking by and was struck and killed by one of them, and I must now kill you.” The merchant said, “O my lord, please don't kill me.” The demon replied, “I must kill you as you killed him—blood for blood.” The merchant said, “To God we belong and to God we return. There is no power or strength, save in God the Almighty, the Magnificent. If I killed him, I did it by mistake. Please forgive me.” The demon replied, “By God, I must kill you, as you killed my son.” Then he seized him and, throwing him to the ground, raised the sword to strike him. The merchant began to weep and mourn his family and his wife and children. Again, the demon raised his sword to strike, while the merchant cried until he was drenched with tears, saying, “There is no power or strength, save in God the Almighty, the Magnificent.” Then he began to recite the following verses:

BOOK: The Arabian Nights (New Deluxe Edition)
13.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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