Читать книгу The Thousand and One Days: A Companion to the "Arabian Nights" - Miss Pardoe - Страница 8

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I am the only son of one of the richest inhabitants of Egypt. My father, who was a man of extensive knowledge, employed my youth in the study of science; and at twenty years of age I was already honourably mentioned among the ulemas, when my father bestowed a young maiden on me as my wife, with eyes brilliant as the stars, and with a form elegant and light as that of the gazelle. My nuptials were magnificent, and my days flowed on in peace and happiness. I lived thus for ten years, when at last this beautiful dream vanished. It pleased Heaven to afflict me with every kind of misfortune: the plague deprived me of my father; war destroyed my dear brothers; my house fell a prey to the flames; my richly-laden ships were buried beneath the waves. Reduced to misery and want, my only resource was in the mercy of God and the compassion of the faithful whom I met while I frequented the mosques. My sufferings, from my own wretched state of poverty, and that of my wife and children, were cruel indeed. One day when I had not received any charitable donations, my wife, weeping, took some of my clothes, and gave them to me in order to sell them at the bazaar. On the way thither I met an Arab of the desert, mounted on a red camel. He greeted me, and said,

"Peace be with you, my brother! Can you tell me where the sheik Hassan Abdallah, the son of El-Achaar, resides in the city?"

Being ashamed of my poverty, and thinking I was not known, I replied,

"There is no man at Cairo of that name."

"God is great!" exclaimed the Arab; "are you not Hassan Abdallah, and can you send away your guest by concealing your name?"

Greatly confused, I then begged him to forgive me, and laid hold of his hands to kiss them, which he would not permit me to do, and I then accompanied him to my house. On the way there I was tormented by the reflection that I had nothing to set before him; and when I reached home I informed my wife of the meeting I had just had.

"The stranger is sent by God," said she; "and even the children's bread shall be his. Go, sell the clothes which I gave you; buy some food for our guest with the money, and if any thing should remain over, we will partake of it ourselves."

In going out it was necessary that I should pass through the apartment where the Arab was. As I concealed the clothes, he said to me, "My brother, what have you got there hid under your cloak?"

I replied that it was my wife's dress, which I was carrying to the tailor.

"Show it to me," he said. I showed it to him, blushing.

"O merciful God," he exclaimed, "you are going to sell it in order to get money to enable you to be hospitable towards me! Stop, Hassan! here are ten pieces of gold; spend them in buying what is needful for our own wants and for those of your family."

I obeyed, and plenty and happiness seemed to revisit my abode. Every day the Arab gave me the same sum, which, according to his orders, I spent in the same way; and this continued for fifteen days. On the sixteenth day my guest, after chatting on indifferent matters, said to me, "Hassan, would you like to sell yourself to me?"

"My lord," I replied, "I am already yours by gratitude."

"No," he replied, "that is not what I mean; I wish to make you my property, and you shall fix the price yourself."

Thinking he was joking, I replied, "The price of a freeman is one thousand dinars if he is killed at a single blow; but if many wounds are inflicted upon him, or if he should be cut in many pieces, the price is then one thousand five hundred dinars."

"Very well," answered my guest, "I will pay you this last-mentioned sum if you will consent to the bargain."

When I saw that he was speaking seriously, I asked for time in order to consult my family.

"Do so," he replied, and then went out to look after some affairs in the city.

When I related the strange proposal of my guest, my mother said, "What can this man want to do with you?" The children all clung to me, and wept. My wife, who was a wise and prudent woman, remarked,

"This detestable stranger wants, perhaps, to get back what he has spent here. You have nothing but this wretched house, sell it, and give him the money, but don't sell yourself."

I passed the rest of the day and the following night in reflection, and was in a state of great uncertainty. With the sum offered by the stranger I could at least secure bread for my family. But why wish to purchase me? What could he intend to do? Before next morning, however, I had come to a decision. I went to the Arab and said, "I am yours." Untying his sash, he took out one thousand five hundred gold pieces, and giving them to me, said, "Fear not, my brother, I have no designs against either your life or your liberty; I only wish to secure a faithful companion during a long journey which I am about to undertake."

Overwhelmed with joy, I ran with the money to my wife and mother; but they, without listening to my explanations, began weeping and crying as if they were lamenting for the dead.

"It is the price of flesh and blood," they exclaimed; "neither we nor our children will eat bread procured at such a cost!"

By dint of argument, however, I succeeded at length in subduing their grief; and having embraced them, together with my children, I set out to meet my new master.

By order of the Arab I purchased a camel renowned for its speed, at the price of a hundred drachms; I filled our sacks with food sufficient for a long period; and then, mounting our camels, we proceeded on our journey.

We soon reached the desert. Here no traces of travellers were to be seen, for the wind effaced them continually from the surface of the moving sand. The Arab was guided in his course by indications known only to himself. We travelled thus together for five days under a burning sun; each day seemed longer to me than a night of suffering or of fear. My master, who was of a lively disposition, kept up my courage by tales which I remember even now with pleasure after forty years of anguish; and you will forgive an old man for not being able to resist the pleasure of relating some of them to you. The following story, he said, had been recounted to him by the basket-maker himself, a poor man whom he had found in prison, and whom he had charitably found means to release.