Tales of the CaliphCrellin, H. N. (Horatio Nelson)
Science
Tales of the Caliph
Crellin, H. N. (Horatio Nelson)
Harun al-Rashid, Caliph, approximately 763-809 -- Fiction
As he moved out of the obscurity of the doorway revolving these things
in his mind, a ragged and decrepit beggar, who had just dragged himself
with slow and weary steps to this spot, begged an alms in the
professional whine common to his class. The Caliph gave him a small
piece of silver, and then watched him as he crossed the road and
entered a dilapidated and wretched hovel, which stood close by the
outer wall of the house of the dealer in stolen goods.
The inside of the hovel consisted of one small room, containing no
furniture of any kind but a litter of rags in one corner, which
evidently served the old beggar as a bed.
The old man, when he had entered and lighted his lamp, pushed some of
these rags aside with trembling hands, and raising a piece of the dirty
and half-rotten flooring, he produced a stout and rather heavy hag.
Out of this he took in succession several smaller hags, each evidently
full of money; and having pleased himself with handling and gloating
over his treasure, he added the coin which the Caliph had just given
him, together with several others, the produce of that day's exertion,
to the contents of one of the bags, and then carefully replaced the
whole in its hiding-place, and covering the board again with the rags,
lay down to sleep.
Three hours had now elapsed since the Caliph had anointed his eyes with
the magical ointment, and the increased power of vision it conferred
upon him began rapidly to vanish. Therefore he turned to go back to
the palace, laughing within himself as he thought, "Thieves, beggars,
and misers, a goodly company have I become acquainted with to-night!"
The streets were now silent and deserted, and all honest people were
already in bed and asleep. But he had not proceeded far before he came
to a door which was partly open, and through which he could see across
a courtyard a great house brightly lighted, and could hear the voices
of the guests within very merrily laughing and conversing. Moreover, a
very delicious aroma of cooking assailed his nostrils, and reminded him
that he was both hungry and tired. Bidding Giafer knock at the door,
he told the slave who appeared to go to his master and say that two
merchants, strangers in the town, and who had lost their way, craved to
be partakers of his hospitality.
Returning shortly, the slave conducted them across the courtyard, and
ushered them into a room handsomely furnished and brilliantly lighted,
in which ten young men were seated, all very merry and evidently
enjoying a plentiful supper, which they washed down with good wine.
One of the ten, evidently the host, a young man with finely formed
features and black eyes, bright and piercing, addressed the Caliph and
Giafer as they entered.
"Merchants and strangers," said he, "you are welcome to our party. Be
seated, I pray you, and by your diligence in eating and drinking,
endeavour to make up for the time you have lost."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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