Читать книгу Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers - Various - Страница 8

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ore than a thousand years ago, there lived in the famous city of Bagdad a man called Naima, who, although he was now grey with age, had still the lusty strength of earlier days. The opening of his life was devoted to trade; and in pursuit of it he made many journeys, by which he not only gained great intellectual treasures and experiences, but also acquired property, which afforded him, not certainly the means for extravagant expenditure, but still sufficient to live in comfort. He had the good sense and wisdom to be satisfied with such moderate possessions, and to enjoy them in peaceful quiet—labouring meanwhile for the improvement of his only son. Many of his acquaintance, however, sought to amass greater wealth, forgetting, as it would seem, that by such constant efforts, life itself, after its meridian, would be but lost without some new and higher enjoyment. The city of Mossul was his home in early days; but he quitted it, and took up his abode in Bagdad, partly owing to the suggestions of a friend with whom he had been on the most intimate and confidential terms from his youth—partly, too, for the sake of the education of his son, as he expected that a residence in that city would produce worthy and lasting impressions on the mind of the young man.

Bagdad was, at this time, under the rule of the famed Caliph Haroun al Raschid, and was the resort of strangers from all parts of the globe, where artists and sages of that country mingled among those of the neighbouring lands. Nor had Naima conceived a vain expectation. His son Haschem was a young man gifted with good natural abilities, and endowed with a pure unsullied heart. He used every opportunity which chance threw in his way to extend his knowledge, cultivate his mind, or to improve his disposition; nor was he deficient in bodily exercises and warlike accomplishments; so that through good discipline he became powerful in body and strong in mind. He was, therefore, as was natural enough, not only the joy and pride of his father, but was loved and esteemed by all who knew him, and was often pointed out by the elders, to others of his own age, as an example worthy of imitation. As the father saw his greatest treasure in the person of his only son, so he, with all the fervour of a well-directed mind, clung to his father.

Some years passed over them in this mutual love, heightened still more by the companionship of their friend Saad, and their happiness was full and uninterrupted. It chanced one day that Naima and Saad were taking their accustomed walk in the princely gardens adjoining the city in front of the gate. The heat of the summer's day had been diminished by a gentle rain, and the two strolled on in happy conversation, and extended their walk beyond its ordinary length. The last gardens were already left behind them, and they wandered on over green meadow-land; behind a little wood, at the entrance of which stood high palms, whose shadows invited to repose. A fresh spring gushed from a neighbouring rock, and meandered sparkling among the verdant herbage and variegated flowers.

The two friends lay down in the shade, and conversed on the dangers to which the most virtuous men are subject, and how easily one may, through passion, be led into a false step, if he allow himself to confide in his own firmness of purpose.

"I have known men," continued Saad, "who, although among the best and noblest whom I have ever known in the course of my life, were led unawares, by too great self-confidence, to an action which they might easily have avoided by a little caution, but which has been the beginning of a long chain of transgressions and vices, ending in their complete ruin."

Naima maintained that a heart accustomed from early youth to virtue would, on the contrary, not be easily led to commit a serious fault; and even if it should happen so, that it would readily find its way back from a slight error to the right road.

They talked still longer on these subjects, each endeavouring to confirm his assertions by examples. Haschem, stretched beside them, listened with attention to their instructive conversation; but suddenly he sprang to his feet, and ran quickly up the woody hill, at the foot of which they were reposing. Saad and his father looked after him with astonishment, as they could not comprehend what had occasioned his sudden departure. Then they saw that a little bird, as white as snow, was flying before him, which he was trying to catch. He was soon lost to their view among the bushes; they cried to him, and begged him to come back—but in vain. They waited for a quarter of an hour, and still Haschem did not return. Uneasy as to what had become of him, they advanced in the direction in which he had disappeared; but they could discover nothing. They called his name: the wood echoed it. At last the sun set; then said Saad,

"Let us return home: your son is a robust and strong young man; he will easily find his way back into the city. Perhaps he has gone home some other way."

After long opposition, the father was at last persuaded to return without his son; but he was still full of anxiety, which no arguments could overcome. When they arrived at the city, his friend accompanied him to his house. They entered hastily, and inquired for Haschem; but he had not returned. Saad's hopes were of no more avail; Naima would no longer listen to him, but weeping, threw himself on his couch. Saad rebuked him for this weakness, and represented to him that it might easily have happened that the young man had lost his way in the pursuit of the bird, and could not recover the track.

"He has certainly found a shelter where he will remain till morning," continued he; "he will return here early to-morrow, and will laugh heartily at your unmanly spirit and desponding grief."

When Saad was gone Naima gave free scope to his feelings. He wept aloud, tore his beard, and threw himself upon the ground, like a madman. The servants and slaves of the house stood around in motionless astonishment, as they were not accustomed to see their master exhibiting such passionate emotion; others sought to console him, but fruitlessly; so they cried and bewailed with him for his dear son, who was beloved by them all. After a sleepless night, the afflicted father was not at all quieted. He wished early in the morning to send messengers in all directions; but Saad, who had come to hear if the lost one had returned home, explained to him how foolish this step would be.

"Remember," said he, "that your Haschem has most probably found a night's lodging, and slept better than you. If he had set out on his way at daybreak, he could not be here now; and if you send these messengers after him, he may perhaps come home by a shorter path, while they will be searching for him in vain. Wait, at least, till noon."

Naima yielded: he appointed the messengers to be ready at noon, and in the meanwhile walked through the gardens and in the country round about the city, where they had been on the preceding day. His friend accompanied him, although he pointed out that Haschem might, in the interval, have reached home while they were walking, and that he was thus perhaps giving himself more grief than was necessary.

"I have given up to you in the rest," replied Naima; "let me at least in this instance have my own will, that I may walk here."

They went together to the fountain in the rock near the palms; they climbed the neighbouring heights; they called the name of the lost one in all directions; but no sound was heard in reply. At noon they went home, and asked all they met if they had not seen a young man, whom they accurately described. Nobody could give them any information about him. Naima now sent out his messengers in all directions; to each he promised a rich reward, but tenfold to that one who should lead the lost one back to his arms. They set out joyfully, each one hoping to gain the tenfold sum, and they all intended to return home in the evening; but these hopes were disappointed. Naima with earnest desire expected them in the evening; none came. At last a few returned on the third day. They had gone a day's journey in the appointed direction, had sought everywhere, had described the wanderer to all they had met, but none had seen him. The rest of the messengers also returned, one by one, and none had discovered the least trace of him. The hopes of the sorrowing father had almost disappeared: only one of the dispatched messengers was not yet come back. Although it was probable that this one might remain away without success, he still clung to the hope that he at least might discover a trace of his son, who had disappeared in so unaccountable a manner. But when this last messenger returned on the tenth day, and reported that all his researches had been without success, the parent's grief knew no bounds. His friend Saad stood by him comforting him, and inquired, together with all his friends, whether no tidings could be learned of Haschem. He could not have been killed, for then his corpse would have been found; he had no cause to conceal himself; he could not have been attacked by enemies, as he had none: might he, in the pursuit of the bird, have been led to the brink of the stream, and have thrown himself in, and been carried away by the waves? Scarcely did the possibility of this idea arise, when two messengers were dispatched to each side of the river to make fresh search, from its junction with the Euphrates above Balsora to the spot where it flows into the Arabian Sea, to ascertain if the corpse of Haschem had been washed ashore. But these messengers also returned to the anxious father, and had not found what they sought. Now the father and his friend gave up Haschem for lost; Naima's manly spirit was broken; grief for his lost son shortened his life; he soon became old: all joy had by this time fled from his mind; and his sorrow was only a little alleviated when his faithful friend Saad sat by him in the evening, talked with him of his son, relating the virtues by which he had been distinguished, and told him how it had been his darling wish that this excellent young man should marry his daughter Zoraine.