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

“sit down by me, and eat with us.” Buddir ad Deen sat down, and attempted to embrace Agib, as a testimony of the joy he conceived upon sitting by him. But Agib pushed him away, desiring him not to be too familiar. Buddir ad Deen obeyed, and repeated some extempore verses in praise of Agib: he did not eat, but made it his business to serve his guests. When they had done, he brought them water to wash, and a very white napkin to wipe their hands. Then he filled a large china cup with sherbet, and put snow into it; and offering it to Agib, “This,” said he, “is sherbet of roses; and I am sure you never tasted better.” Agib having drunk of it with pleasure, Buddir ad Deen took the cup from him, and presented it to the eunuch, who drank it all off at once.

In fine, Agib and his governor having fared well, returned thanks to the pastry-cook for their good entertainment, and moved homewards, it being then late. When they arrived at the tents of Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, Agib’s grandmother received him with transports of joy: her son ran always in her mind, and in embracing Agib, the remembrance of him drew tears from her eyes.

“Ah, my child!” said she, “my joy would be perfect, if I had the pleasure of embracing your father as I now embrace you.” She made Agib sit by her, and put several questions to him, relating to the walk he had been taking with the eunuch; and when he complained of being hungry, she gave him a piece of cream-tart, which she had made for herself, and was indeed very good: she likewise gave some to the eunuch.

Agib no sooner touched the piece of cream-tart that had been set before him, than he pretended he did not like it, and left it uncut; and Shubbaunee (which was the eunuch’s name) did the same.

The widow of Noor ad Deen Ali observed with regret that her grandson did not like the tart. “What!” said she, “does my child thus despise the work of my hands? Be it known to you, no one in the world can make such besides myself and your father, whom I taught.” “My good mother,” replied Agib, “give me leave to tell you, if you do not know how to make better, there is a pastry-cook in this town that outdoes you. We were at his shop, and ate of one much better than yours.”

On hearing this, the grandmother, frowning upon the eunuch, said, “How now, Shubbaunee, was the care of my grandchild committed to you, to carry him to eat at pastry-shops like a beggar?” “Madam,”

replied the eunuch, “it is true, we did stop a little while and talked with the pastry-cook, but we did not eat with him.”

“Pardon me,” said Agib, “we went into his shop, and there ate a cream-tart.” Upon this, the lady, more incensed against the eunuch than before, rose in a passion from the table, and running to the tent of Shumse ad Deen, informed him of the eunuch’s crime; and that in such terms, as tended more to inflame the vizier than to dispose him to excuse it.

The vizier who was naturally passionate, did not fail on this occasion to display his anger. He went forthwith to his sister-in-law’s tent, and said to the eunuch, “Wretch, have you the impudence to abuse the trust I repose in you?” Shubbaunee, though sufficiently convicted by Agib’s testimony, denied the fact still. But the child persisting in what he had affirmed, “Grandfather,” said he, “I can assure you we not only ate, but that so very heartily, that we have no occasion for supper: besides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl of sherbet.” “Well,” cried Shumse ad Deen, “after all this, will you continue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook’s house, and ate there?” Shubbaunee had still the impudence to swear it was not true. “Then you are a liar,” said the vizier “I believe my grandchild; but after all, if you can eat up this cream-tart I shall be persuaded you have truth on your side.”

Though Shubbaunee had crammed himself up to the throat before, he agreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart; but his stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out of his mouth. Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had over-eaten himself the day before, and had not recovered his appetite. The vizier irritated with all the eunuch’s frivolous presences, and convinced of his guilt, ordered him to be soundly bastinadoed. In undergoing this punishment, the poor wretch shrieked out aloud, and at last confessed the truth; “I own,”

cried he, “that we did eat a cream-tart at the pastry cook’s, and that it was much better than that upon the table.”

The widow of Noor ad Deen thought it was out of spite to her, and with a desire to mortify her, that Shubbaunee commended the pastry-cook’s tart; and accordingly said, “I cannot believe the cook’s tarts are better than mine; I am resolved to satisfy myself upon that head. Where does he live? Go immediately and buy me one of his tarts.” The eunuch repaired to Buddir ad Deen’s shop, and said, “Let me have one of your cream-tarts; one of our ladies wants to taste them.” Buddir ad Deen chose one of the best, and gave it to the eunuch.

Shubbaunee returned speedily to the tents, gave the tart to Noor ad Deen’s widow, who, snatching it greedily, broke a piece off; but no sooner put it to her mouth, than she cried out and swooned away. The vizier was extremely surprised at the accident; he threw water upon her face, and was very active in recovering her.

As soon as she came to herself, “My God!” cried she, “it must needs be my son, my dear Buddir ad Deen who made this tart.”

When the vizier Shumse ad Deen heard his sister-in-law say, that the maker of the tart, brought by the eunuch, must needs be her son, he was overjoyed; but reflecting that his joy might prove groundless, and the conjecture of Noor ad Deen’s widow be false, “Madam,” said he, “do you think there may not be a pastry-cook in the world, who knows how to make cream-tarts as well as your son?” “I own,” replied she, “there may be pastry-cooks that can make as good tarts as he; but as I make them in a peculiar manner, and only my son was let into the secret, it must absolutely be he that made this. Come, my brother,” added she in a transport, “let us call up mirth and joy; we have at last found what we have been so long looking for.” “Madam,” said the vizier answer, “I entreat you to moderate your impatience, for we shall quickly know the truth. All we have to do, is to bring the pastry-cook hither; and then you and my daughter will readily distinguish whether he be your son or not. But you must both be concealed so as to have a view of Buddir ad Deen while he cannot see you; for I would not have our interview and mutual discovery happen at Damascus. My design is to delay the discovery till we return to Cairo.”

This said, he left the ladies in their tent, and retired to his own; where he called for fifty of his men, and said to them: “Take each of you a stick in your hands, and follow Shubbaunee, who will conduct you to a pastry-cook in this city. When you arrive there, break and dash in pieces all you find in the shop: if he demand the reason of your outrage, only ask him in return if it was not he that made the cream-tart that was brought from his house. If he answer in the affirmative, seize his person, fetter him, and bring him along with you; but take care you do not beat him, nor do him the least harm. Go, and lose no time.”

The vizier’s orders were immediately executed. The detachment, conducted by the black eunuch, went with expedition to Buddir ad Deen’s house, broke in pieces the plates, kettles, copper pans, and all the other moveables and utensils they met with, and inundated the sherbet-shop with cream and comfits. Buddir ad Deen, astonished at the sight, said with a pitiful tone, “Pray, good people, why do you serve me so? What is the matter? What have I done?” “Was it not you,” said they, “that sold this eunuch the cream-tart?” “Yes,” replied he, “I am the man; and who says any thing against it? I defy any one to make a better.” Instead of giving him an answer, they continued to break all round them, and the oven itself was not spared.

In the mean time the neighbours took the alarm, and surprised to see fifty armed men committing such a disorder, asked the reason of such violence; and Buddir ad Deen said once more to the rioters, “Pray tell me what crime I have committed to deserve this usage?” “Was it not you,” replied they, “that made the cream-tart you sold to the eunuch?” “Yes, yes, it was I,” replied he; “I maintain it is a good one. I do not deserve this treatment.” However, without listening to him, they seized his person, and, snatching the cloth off his turban, tied his hands with it behind his back, and, after dragging him by force out of his shop, marched off.

The mob gathering, from compassion to Buddir ad Deen, took his part; but officers from the governor of the city dispersed the people, and favoured the carrying off of Buddir ad Deen, for Shumse ad Deen Mahummud had in the mean time gone to the governor’s house to acquaint him with the order he had given, and to demand the interposition of force to favour the execution; and the governor, who commanded all Syria in the name of the sultan of Egypt, was unwilling to refuse any thing to his master’s vizier.

It was in vain for Buddir ad Deen to ask those who carried him off, what fault had been found with his cream-tart: they gave him no answer. In short, they conducted him to the tents, and made him wait there till Shumse ad Deen returned from the governor of Damascus.

Upon the vizier’s return, the pretended culprit was brought before him. “My lord,” said Buddir ad Deen, with tears in his eyes, “pray do me the favour to let me know wherein I have displeased you.” “Why, you wretch,” exclaimed the vizier “was it not you that made the cream-tart you sent me?” “I own I am the man,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “but pray what crime is that?” “I will punish you according to your deserts,” said Shumse ad Deen, “it shall cost you your life, for sending me such a sorry tart.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Buddir ad Deen, “is it a capital crime to make a bad cream-tart?” “Yes,” said the vizier “and you are to expect no other usage from me.”

While this interview lasted, the ladies, who were concealed behind curtains, saw Buddir ad Deen, and recognized him, notwithstanding he had been so long absent. They were so transported with joy, that they swooned away; and when they recovered, would fain have run up and fallen upon his neck, but the promise they had made to the vizier of not discovering themselves, restrained the tender emotions of love and of nature.

Shumse ad Deen having resolved to set out that night, ordered the tents to be struck, and the necessary preparations to be made for his journey. He ordered Buddir ad Deen to be secured in a sort of cage, and