The Arabian Nights Entertainments, - [best autobiographies to read .txt] 📗

since you spoke one word to me; you answer not the proofs I give you of my love by my sighs and lamentations. Is it from insensibility, or contempt? O tomb! hast thou destroyed that excess of affection which he bare me? Hast thou closed those eyes that evinced so much love, and were all my delight? No, no, this I cannot think. Tell me rather, by what miracle thou becamest the depositary of the rarest treasure the world ever contained.”

I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these expressions; for, in truth, this beloved, this adored mortal, was by no means what you would imagine him to have been. He was a black Indian, one of the original natives of this country. I was so enraged at the language addressed to him, that I discovered myself, and apostrophising the tomb in my turn; I cried, “O tomb! why dost not thou swallow up that monster so revolting to human nature, or rather why dost not thou swallow up both the lover and his mistress?”

I had scarcely uttered these words, when the queen, who sat by the black, rose up like a fury. “Miscreant!” said she “thou art the cause of my grief; do not think I am ignorant of this, I have dissembled too long. It was thy barbarous hand that brought the objets of my fondness into this lamentable condition; and thou hast the cruelty to come and insult a despairing lover.” “Yes,”

said I, in a rage, “it was I that chastised that monster, according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I now repent that I did not; thou hast too long abused my goodness.” As I spoke these words, I drew out my cimeter, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but regarding me stedfastly, she said with a jeering smile, “Moderate thy anger.” At the same time, she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterwards added, “By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee to become half marble and half man.” Immediately, my lord, I became what you see, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead.

After the cruel sorceress, unworthy of the name of queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing and populous; she annihilated the houses, the public places and markets, and reduced the site of the whole to the lake and desert plain you have seen; the fishes of four colours in the lake are the four kinds of inhabitants of different religions, which the city contained. The white are the Moosulmauns; the red, the Persians, who worship fire; the blue, the Christians and the yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the enchantress, who, to add to my affliction, related to me these effects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge not being satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the metamorphosis of my person, she comes every day, and gives me over my naked shoulders a hundred lashes with a whip until I am covered with blood. When she has finished this part of my punishment, she throws over me a coarse stuff of goat’s hair, and over that this robe of brocade, not to honour, but to mock me.

When he came to this part of the narrative, the young king could not restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by the relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of consolation. Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, “Mighty creator of all things, I submit myself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I endure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will things should be as they are; but I hope thy infinite goodness will ultimately reward me.”

The sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story, and anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince, said to him, “Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress retires, and where may be found her vile paramour, who is entombed before his death.” “My lord,” replied the prince, “her lover, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of Tears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome: this palace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed.

As to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires, but every day at sunrise she goes to visit her paramour, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself. She carries to him the potion with which she had hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never having spoken to her since he was wounded.”

“Prince,” said the sultan, “your condition can never be sufficiently deplored: no one can be more sensibly affected by your misfortunes than I am. Never did any thing so extraordinary befall any man, and those who write your history will have the advantage of relating what surpasses all that has hitherto been recorded. One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are entitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it.”

In his subsequent conversation with the young prince, the sultan told him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the castle; and afterwards informed him of a mode of revenge which he had devised. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for accomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till the following day. In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night as usual, without sleep, having never slept since he was enchanted, still indulging some hopes of being speedily delivered from his misery.

Next morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to execute his design, hiding his upper garment, which might encumber him; he then proceeded to the Palace of Tears. He found it lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of fine gold of admirable workmanship. As soon as he perceived the bed where the black lay, he drew his cimeter, and without resistance deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After this, he went and lay down in the black’s bed, placed his cimeter under the covering, and waited to complete his design.

The queen arrived shortly after. She first went into the chamber of her husband, the king of the Black Islands, stripped him, and with unexampled barbarity gave him a hundred stripes. The unfortunate prince filled the palace with his lamentations, and conjured her in the most affecting tone to take pity on him; but the cruel wretch ceased not till she had given the usual number of blows. “You had no compassion on my lover,” said she, “and you are to expect none from me.”

After the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a hundred blows with the whip, she put on again his covering of goat’s hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to the Palace of Tears, and as she entered renewed her tears and lamentations: then approaching the bed, where she thought her paramour lay, “What cruelty,” cried she, “was it to disturb the satisfaction so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O cruel prince, who reproachest me that I am inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment! Does not thy barbarity surpass my vengeance? Traitor! in attempting the life of the object which I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas!” said she, addressing herself to the sultan, conceiving him to be the black “My sun, my life, will you always be silent! Are you resolved to let me die, without affording me the comfort of hearing again from your own lips that you love me? My soul, speak one word to me at least, I conjure you.”

The sultan, as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, answered the queen with a grave tone, “There is no strength or power but in God alone, who is almighty.” At these words the enchantress, who did not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy. “My dear lord,” cried she, “do not I deceive myself; is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me?” “Unhappy woman,” said the sultan, “art thou worthy that I should answer thee?” “Alas!”

replied the queen, “why do you reproach me thus?” “The cries,”

returned the sultan, “the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, prevent my sleeping night or day. Hadst thou disenchanted him, I should long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of my speech. This is the cause of my silence, of which you complain.” “Well,” said the enchantress, “to pacify you, I am ready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?”

“Yes,” replied the sultan; “make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations.”

The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she took a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She afterwards proceeded to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon him, saying, “If the creator of all things did form thee as thou art at present; or if he be angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou west before.” She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, “Get thee from this castle, and never return on pain of death.” The young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the enchantress, without replying a word; and retired to a remote place, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which the sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile, the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears, and supposing that she still spoke to the black, said, “Dear love, I have done what you required; nothing now prevents your rising and giving me the satisfaction of which I have so long been deprived.”

The sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, said, “What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my cure; you have only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it up by the root.” “My lovely black,” resumed the queen, “what do you mean by the root?” “Wretched woman,” replied the sultan, “understand you not that I allude to the town, and its inhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy enchantments?

The fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of the lake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things to their former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to arise.”

The enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out in a transport of joy, “My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored to your health, for I will immediately do as you command me.” Accordingly she went that instant,