The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume I
General
The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume I
Fairy tales; Tales -- Arab countries
The glass is pellucid, and so is the wine: So bring them together
and see them combine:
Tis a puzzle; one moment, all wine and no cup; At another, in
turn, 'tis all cup and no wine.
So I invited him to pass the evening with us and went out to buy
fried fish, after which we sat down to eat. Presently my wife
took a piece of bread and fish and crammed them into his mouth,
and he choked and died. Then I took him up and made shift to
throw him into the house of the Jewish physician. He in his turn
let him down into the house of the controller, who threw him in
the way of the Christian broker. This, then, is my story. Is it
not more wonderful than that of the hunchback?'
When the King heard the tailor's story, he shook his head for
delight and showed astonishment, saying, 'This that passed
between the young man and the meddlesome barber is indeed more
pleasant and more wonderful than the story of that knave of a
hunchback.' Then he bade the tailor take one of the chamberlains
and fetch the barber out of his duresse, saying, 'Bring him to
me, that I may hear his talk, and it shall be the means of the
release of all of you. Then we will bury the hunchback, for he is
dead since yesterday, and set up a tomb over him.' So the
chamberlain and the tailor went away and presently returned with
the barber. The King looked at him and behold, he was a very old
man, more than ninety years of age, of a swarthy complexion and
white beard and eyebrows, flap-eared, long-nosed and simple and
conceited of aspect. The King laughed at his appearance and said
to him, 'O silent man, I desire thee to tell me somewhat of thy
history.' 'O King of the age,' replied the barber, 'why are all
these men and this dead hunchback before thee?' Said the King,
'Why dost thou ask?' 'I ask this,' rejoined the barber, 'that
your Majesty may know that I am no impertinent meddler and that I
am guiltless of that they lay to my charge of overmuch talk; for
I am called the Silent, and indeed I am the man of my name, as
says the poet:
Thine eyes shall seldom see a man that doth a nickname bear, But,
if thou search, thou'lt find the name his nature doth
declare.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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