"Payne Volume V" - читать интересную книгу автора (Paynes Versions)
Now First Completely Done Into English
Prose and Verse, From The Original Arabic,
By John Payne
(Author of "The Masque of Shadows," "Intaglios: Sonnets," "Songs of Life and Death,"
"Lautrec," "The Poems of Master Francis Villon of Paris," "New Poems," Etc, Etc.).
In Nine Volumes:
VOLUME THE FIFTH.
London
Printed For Subscribers Only
1901
Delhi Edition
THE ANGEL OF DEATH WITH THE PROUD KING AND THE DEVOUT MAN.
A certain king of the ancients was once minded to ride out in state with the officers of his court and the grandees of his realm and show forth to the folk the wonders of his magnificence. So he bade his lords and Amirs and grandees equip them to this end and commanded his keeper of the wardrobe to bring him of the richest of raiment, such as befitted the King in his state and [his master of the horse] to bring his steeds of the finest breeds and most renowned pedigrees, which being done, he chose out of the raiment what liked him and of the horses that which he deemed good and donning the clothes, together with a collar set with pearls and rubies and all manner jewels, mounted and set forth in state, making his horse prance and curvet among his troops and glorying in his pride and magnificence. And Satan came to him and laying his hand upon his nose, blew into his nostrils the breath of pride and conceit, so that he magnified himself and said in his heart, 'Who among men is like unto me?' And he became so puffed up with arrogance and conceit and so taken up with the thought of his own glory and magnificence, that he would not vouchsafe a glance to any. Presently, there came up a man clad in tattered clothes and saluted him, but he returned not his greeting, whereupon the stranger laid hold of his horse's bridle. 'Lift thy hand,' said the King, 'thou knowest not whose bridle-rein it is whereof thou takest hold.' Quoth the other, 'I have an occasion to thee.' 'Wait till I alight,' replied the King, 'and then name it.' 'Nay,' rejoined the stranger, 'it is a secret and I will not tell it but in thine ear.' So the King bowed his head to him and he said, 'I am the Angel of Death and I purpose to take thy soul.' 'Have patience with me a little,' said the King, 'whilst I return to my house and take leave of my people and children and neighbours and wife.' 'Not so,' answered the angel; 'thou shalt never return nor look on them again, for the term of thy life is past.' So saying, he took the soul of the King,--who fell off his horse's back, dead,--and departed thence.
Presently, he met a devout man, of whom God the Most High had accepted, and saluted him. He returned his salute, and the Angel of Death said to him, 'O pious man, I have a privy occasion to thee.' 'Tell it in my ear,' said the devotee. Quoth the other, 'I am the Angel of Death.' 'Welcome to thee!' replied the man. 'Praised be God for thy coming! I am weary of awaiting thee; for indeed long hath been thine absence from him who longeth for thee.' Quoth the angel, 'If thou have any business, make an end of it.' But the other answered, saying, 'There is nothing urgent to me as the meeting with my Lord, to whom belong might and majesty!' And the angel said, 'How wouldst thou liefer have me take thy soul? I am bidden to take it as thou willest and choosest.' 'Wait till I make the ablution and pray,' replied the devotee; 'and when I prostrate myself, then take my soul in the act.' Quoth the angel, 'Verily, my Lord commanded me not to take thy soul but with thy consent and as thou shouldst wish; so I will do thy will.' Then the devout man rose and made the ablution and prayed: and the Angel of Death took his soul in the act of adoration, and God transported it to the place of mercy and acceptance and forgiveness.
THE ANGEL OF DEATH AND THE RICH KING.
A certain king had heaped up treasure beyond count and gathered store of all [precious] things, that God the Most High hath created, that he might take his pleasure thereof, against such time as he should have leisure to enjoy all this abounding wealth that he had collected. Moreover, he builded him a wide and lofty palace, such as beseemeth kings, and set thereto strong doors of cunning fashion and appointed for its service and guard servants and soldiers and doorkeepers. One day, he bade the cooks dress him somewhat of the goodliest of food and assembled his household and retainers and lords and servants to eat with him and partake of his bounty. Then he sat down upon the throne of his kingship and the chair of his state and leaning back upon his cushion, bespoke himself, saying, 'O soul, behold, thou hast gathered together all the riches of the world; so now take thy leisure therein and eat of this good at thine ease, in long life and abounding prosperity!'
Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when there came so terrible a knock at the gate that the whole palace shook and the king's throne trembled. The servants were affrighted and ran to the door, where they saw a man clad in tattered raiment, with a cadger's wallet hanging at his neck, as he were one who came to beg food. When they saw him, they cried out at him, saying, 'Out on thee! What unmannerly fashion is this? Wait till the king eateth and [after] we will give thee of what is left.' Quoth he, 'Tell your lord to come out and speak with me, for I have a pressing errand to him and a weighty matter.' 'Away, fool!' replied they. 'Who art thou that we should bid our lord come out to thee?' But he said, 'Tell him of this.' So they went in and told the king, who said, 'Did ye not rebuke him and draw upon him and chide him!' But, as he spoke, behold, there came another knock at the gate, louder than the first, whereupon the servants ran at the stranger with staves and weapons, to fall upon him; but he cried out at them, saying, 'Abide in your places, for I am the Angel of Death.' When they heard this, their hearts quaked and their wits forsook them; their understandings were dazed and their nerves trembled for fear and their limbs lost the power of motion. Then said the King to them, 'Bid him take a substitute in my stead.' But the Angel answered, saying, 'I will take no substitute, and I come not but on thine account, to make severance between thee and the good thou hast gathered together and the riches thou hast heaped up and treasured.' When the king heard this, he wept and groaned, saying, 'May God curse the treasure that has deluded and undone me and diverted me from the service of my Lord! I deemed it would profit me, but to-day it is a regret for me and an affliction unto me, and behold, I [must] go forth, empty-handed of it, and leave it to mine enemies.'
Therewith God caused the treasure to speak and it said, 'Why dost thou curse me? Curse thyself, for God created both me and thee of the dust and appointed me to be in thine hand, that thou mightest provide thee with me for the next world and give alms with me to the poor and sick and needy and endow mosques and hospices and build bridges and aqueducts, so might I be a succour unto thee in the life to come. But thou didst garner me and hoard me up and bestowedst me on thine own lusts, neither gavest thanks for me, as was due, but wast ungrateful; and now thou must leave me to thine enemies and abidest in thy regret and thy repentance. But what is my fault, that thou shouldest revile me?' Then the Angel of Death took the soul of the King, before he ate of the food, and he fell from his throne, dead. Quoth God the Most High, 'Even while they rejoiced in what had been given to them, we took them unawares and behold, they were stricken with despair." (1)
THE ANGEL OF DEATH AND THE KING OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL.
There was once a proud and puissant king of the children of Israel, who sat one day upon the throne of his kingship, when he saw come in to him, by the gate of the hall, a man of terrible and forbidding aspect. The King was affrighted at his sudden intrusion upon him and his look terrified him; so he sprang up and said to him, 'Who art thou, O man? Who gave thee leave to come in to me and who sent thee to my house?' Quoth the stranger, 'The Lord of the house sent me to thee and I need no leave to come in to kings, nor can any door- keeper exclude me, for I reck not of a Sultan's majesty neither of the multitude of guards. I am he from whom no tyrant is at rest, nor for any is there escape from my grasp: I am the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.'
When the King heard this, trembling crept over his body and he fell on his face in a swoon; but, presently coming to himself, he said, 'Art thou then the Angel of Death?' 'Yes,' answered the stranger. 'I conjure thee by Allah,' quoth the King, 'grant me one day's respite, that I may ask pardon of my sins and seek absolution of my Lord and restore to their rightful owners the treasures that are in my storehouses, so I may not be burdened with the woe of a reckoning nor suffer the misery of punishment therefor.' 'Away! away!' replied the Angel. 'This may nowise be. How can I grant thee a respite, whenas the days of thy life are counted and thy breaths numbered and thy moments fixed and written?' 'Grant me an hour,' said the King; but the Angel answered, saying, 'The hour was in the account and hath passed, and thou unheeding, and hath expired, and thou taking no thought: and now thy moments are accomplished, and there remains to thee but one breath.' 'Who will be with me, when I am transported to my grave?' asked the King. Quoth the Angel, 'Nought will be with thee but thy work.' 'I have no work,' said the King; and the Angel, 'Doubtless, thine abiding place will be in the fire and thy departure to the wrath of the Almighty.' Then he took the soul of the King, and he fell off his throne and dropped on the earth [dead]. And there arose a mighty weeping and wailing and clamour of lamentation for him among the people of his court, and had they known that to which he went of the wrath of his Lord, their weeping for him had been [yet] sorer and their lamentation louder and more abounding.
ISKENDER DHOULKERNEIN AND A CERTAIN TRIBE OF POOR FOLK.
It is related that Iskender Dhoulkernein (2) came once, in his travels, upon a tribe of poor folk, who owned nought of the goods of the world and who dug their graves over against the doors of their houses and were wont at all times to frequent them and sweep the earth from them and keep them clean and visit them and worship God the Most High in them; and they had no food save herbs and the fruits of the earth. Iskender sent a man to them, to bid their king to him, but he refused to come, saying, 'I have no occasion to him.' So Iskender went to him and said to him, 'How is it with you and what manner of folk are you? For I see with you nothing of gold or silver nor aught of the good things of the world.' 'None hath his fill of the goods of the world,' answered the king. 'Why do you dig your graves before the doors of your houses?' asked Iskender. 'That they may be the cynosure of our eyes,' replied the king, 'so we may look on them and still take thought unto death neither forget the world to come. Thus is the love of the world banished from our hearts and we are not distracted thereby from the service of our Lord, exalted be His name!' Quoth Iskender, 'Why do ye eat herbs?' And the other answered, 'Because it misliketh us to make our bellies the tombs of beasts and because the pleasure of eating overpasseth not the gullet.'
Then he produced another skull and laying it before Iskender, said to him, 'Knowest thou this?' 'No,' answered the prince; and the other rejoined, 'This is the skull of another king, who dealt justly by his subjects and was tenderly solicitous for the people of his realm and his dominions, till God took his soul and lodged him in His Paradise and made high his degree [among His blessed].' Then he laid his hands on Iskender's head and said, 'Whether of these twain art thou?' Whereupon Iskender wept sore and straining the king to his bosom, said, 'An thou be minded to consort with me, I will commit to thee the government of my affairs and share with thee in my kingdom.' 'Away! away!' replied the other. 'I have no mind to this.' 'Why so?' asked Iskender, and the King answered, 'Because all men are thine enemies by reason of the wealth and possessions thou hast gotten, and all men are my friends in verity, because of my contentment and poverty, for that I possess nothing, neither covet aught of the goods of the world; I have no desire unto them nor wish for them, neither reck I of aught save contentment.' So Iskender pressed him to his bosom and kissed him between the eyes and went his way.
THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF KING ANOUSHIRWAN.
It is told of the just King Anoushirwan (3) that he once feigned himself sick and bade his stewards and intendants go round about the provinces of his empire and the quarters of his realm and seek him out a rotten brick from some ruined village, that he might use it as medicine, avouching that the physicians had prescribed this to him. So they went the round of the provinces of his realm and of all the lands under his dominion and returned and said to him, 'In all the realm we have found no ruined place nor old rotten brick.' At this he rejoiced and returned thanks to God, saying, 'I was but minded to prove my kingdom and try my empire, that I might know if there were therein any ruined [or deserted] place, so I might rebuild [or repeople] it; but, since there is no place in it but is inhabited, the affairs of the realm are well ordered and accomplished and [its] prosperity hath reached the pitch of perfection.'
'And know, O king,' [added Shehrzad] 'that these kings of time past were not solicitous for the peopling of their kingdoms, but because they knew that the more populous a country is, the more abundant is that which is desired therein, and for that they knew the saying of the wise and the learned to be without doubt true, namely, 'Religion depends on the King, the King on the troops, the troops on the treasury, the treasury on the populousness [or prosperity] of the country and the latter on the justice of the government.' Wherefore they upheld no one in tyranny or oppression neither suffered their dependents to do injustice, knowing that kingdoms are not stablished upon tyranny, but that cities and places fall into ruin, when oppressors get the mastery over them, and their inhabitants disperse and flee to other governments, wherefore ruin falls upon the realm, the imports fail, the treasuries become empty and the lives of the subjects are troubled; for that they love not a tyrant and cease not to offer up prayers against him, so that the King hath no ease of his dominion and the shifts of fortune speedily bring about his destruction.'
THE JEWISH CADI AND HIS PIOUS WIFE.
A certain Cadi of the children of Israel had a wife of surpassing beauty, who was withal exceeding virtuous, chaste and patient, and being minded to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, appointed his brother Cadi in his stead, during his absence, and commended his wife to his charge. Now this brother had heard of her beauty and grace and had fallen in love with her. So, his brother being gone, he went in to her and sought her favours; but she denied him and clave fast unto her chastity. The more she repelled him, the more urgently he pressed his suit upon her, till, despairing of her and fearing lest she should acquaint his brother with his conduct, when he returned, he suborned false witnesses to testify against her of adultery and cited her before the King of the day, who adjudged her to be stoned. So they dug a pit and making her sit therein, stoned her, till she was covered with stones, and [the wicked brother] said, 'Be the pit her grave.'
But, when it was dark night, a passer-by, making for a neighbouring hamlet, heard her groaning and pulling her out of the pit, carried her home to his wife, who dressed her wounds and tended her till she recovered. The peasant's wife had a child, which she gave to the woman to nurse, and the latter used to lodge with the child in another house by night. Now a certain thief saw her and lusted after her. So he sent to her, to require her of love, but she denied herself to him; wherefore he resolved to kill her and making his way into her chamber by night, whilst she slept, thought to strike at her with a knife; but it smote the child and killed it; which when he knew, fear overtook him and he went forth the house and God preserved her from him.
When she awoke in the morning, she found the child by her side slain; and presently his mother came and seeing the boy dead, said to her, 'It was thou didst murder him.' Therewith she beat her grievously and would have killed her; but her husband interposed and delivered the woman, who fled forth for her life, knowing not whither she should go. Presently, she came to a village, where she saw a crowd of people collected about the trunk of a tree, on which was a man crucified, but still in the chains of life. She asked what he had done and they said, 'He hath committed a crime, which nothing can expiate but death or the payment of such a fine by way of alms.' Now she had with her somewhat of money, so she said to them, 'Take the money and let him go.' Accordingly, they set him free and he repented at her hands and vowed to serve her, for the love of God the Most High, till death should release him. Then he built her a hermitage and lodged her therein; moreover, he betook himself to woodcutting and brought her her daily bread. As for her, she was instant in the service of God, so that there came no sick man or demoniac to her, but she prayed for him and he was straightway made whole.
Now it befell, by the ordinance of God the Most High, that He sent down upon her husband's brother a cancer in the face and smote the villager's wife with leprosy and afflicted the murderer of the boy with paralysis. When the Cadi returned home from his pilgrimage, he asked his brother of his wife, and he told him that she was dead, whereat he mourned sore and accounted her with God. After awhile, the folk heard of the pious recluse and flocked to her cell from all parts of the length and breadth of the earth. And the Cadi said to his brother, 'O my brother, wilt thou not seek out yonder pious woman? It may be God shall appoint thee healing at her hands.' 'O my brother,' replied he, 'carry me to her.' Moreover, the husband of the leprous woman heard of the pious woman and carried his wife to her, as did also the paralytic's family; and they all met at the door of her cell, where they waited, till her servant came, and begged him to ask leave of her to admit them; and he did so.
Now she had a place wherefrom she could look out upon those who came to her, without their seeing her, and thence she saw them all and recognized them. So, when her servant came in to her, she veiled herself and went out and stood in the door, looking at them; but they knew her not. Then said she to them, 'O folk, ye shall not be rid of what is with you, till ye confess your sins; for, when the creature confesses his sins, God relenteth towards him and granteth him that for which he resorteth to Him.' Quoth the Cadi to his brother, 'O my brother, repent to God and persist not in thy frowardness, for it will be the more helpful to thy relief.' And the tongue of the case spoke as follows:
ааааа Behold, oppressor and oppressed assembled are to-day, And God the secret hath unveiled, till now that hidden lay.
ааааа This is a case in which, indeed, the sinners are brought low And God exalteth those that be assiduous in His way.
ааааа Yea, and our Master and our Lord discovereth the truth, Whether the sinner froward be or bow him to obey.
ааааа Woe unto those who strive with God and answer Him, as 'twere They knew not what He doth prepare for those that Him gainsay!
ааааа O thou that power and glory seek'st, know, only in the fear Of God true glory lies; so cleave thou fast to Allah aye.
Then said the brother, 'Now will I tell the truth. I did thus and thus with thy wife;' and he confessed the whole matter, adding, 'And this is my sin.' Quoth the leprous woman, 'As for me, I had a woman with me and imputed to her [a crime,] of which I knew [her] not [to be guilty], and beat her grievously; and this is my offence.' And the paralytic said, 'And I went in to a woman to kill her, after I had solicited her to commit adultery and she had refused; and I slew [instead] a boy that lay beside her; and this is my offence.' Then said the pious woman, 'O my God, even as Thou hast made them to feel the misery of disobedience, so show Thou them [now] the excellence of obedience, for Thou canst all things!' And God (to whom belong might and majesty) made them whole. Then the Cadi fell a-looking on the pious woman and considering her straitly, till she asked him why he did thus and he said, 'I had a wife, were she not dead, I had said that thou wast she.' With this, she made herself known to him and they both betook themselves to rendering thanks to God (to whom belong might and majesty) for that which He had vouchsafed them of the reunion of their loves; but the brother and the thief and the villager's wife began to implore her forgiveness. So she forgave them, and they all worshipped God in that place, and were assiduous in her service, till Death sundered them.
THE SHIPWRECKED WOMAN AND HER CHILD.
(Quoth one of the Seyyids (4)) I was going round about the Kaabeh one dark night, when I heard a plaintive voice, speaking from a contrite heart and saying, 'O Bountiful One, Thy past favours! Indeed, my heart is constant to the covenant.' When I heard this, my heart fluttered, so that I was nigh upon death, but I followed the voice and found that it came from a woman, to whom I said, 'Peace be on thee, O handmaid of God!' 'And on thee be peace,' answered she, 'and the mercy of God and His blessings!' Quoth I, 'I conjure thee, by the Most Great God, tell me what is the covenant to which thy heart is constant.' 'But that thou adjurest me by the Almighty,' replied she, 'I would not tell thee my secret. See what is before me.' So I looked and saw a child lying asleep before her and breathing heavily in his slumber. 'Know,' said she, 'that I set forth, being big with this child, to make the pilgrimage to this [Holy] House and took passage in a ship; but the waves rose against us and the winds were contrary and the ship broke up under us. I saved myself on a plank, and in this situation, I gave birth to the child.
'As I sat on the plank, with the boy on my lap and the waves beating upon me, there swam up to me one of the sailors, who climbed on to the plank and said to me, 'By Allah, I desired thee, whilst thou was yet in the ship, and now I have come at thee. So yield thyself to me, or I will throw thee into the sea.' 'Out on thee!' cried I. 'Hast thou no thought of that which thou hast seen, and is it no warning to thee?' Quoth he, 'I have seen the like of this many a time and come off safe and reck not.' 'O fellow,' rejoined I, 'we are now in a strait whence we hope to be delivered by obedience and not by disobedience [of God's commandments].' But he was instant with me, and I feared him and thought to put him off; so I said to him, 'Wait till the child sleeps.' And he took the child off my lap and threw him into the sea. When I saw this, my heart throbbed and anguish was sore upon me; but I raised my eyes to heaven and said, 'O Thou that intervenest between a man and his heart, intervene between me and this wild beast!' And by Allah, hardly had I spoken when a beast rose out of the sea and snatched him off the plank. When I found myself alone, my affliction redoubled and my grief and longing for my child, and I recited the following verses:
ааааа The solace of my eyes, my child, my dear, Is lost, and I am racked with pain and fear;
ааааа I see my body wrecked, and all my heart On coals of love and dole is wasting sheer.
ааааа No help is there for me in this my need, Save at Thy hands on whom my hope I rear.
ааааа Thou, O my Lord, hast seen my sore distress, For loss of him, my child, my suckling dear.
ааааа Take ruth on us and give him back to me! Thou art my stay: incline to me Thine ear.
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