The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 6 (of 14): Medieval Arabic, Moorish, and Turkish
Religion
The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 6 (of 14): Medieval Arabic, Moorish, and Turkish
Oriental literature -- Translations into English
At last the parasite's turn came. But as the ten prisoners had been
done with and the list was exhausted, Mamoun asked the guards who he
was. "Truly, we know nothing about him," they answered. "We found him
among them and brought him hither." "Who are you?" the Caliph asked
him. "Prince of the believers," he said, "may my wife be divorced if I
understand what they are talking about! I am only a poor parasite." And
he told him his whole story from beginning to end.
The Caliph was much amused, and ordered the image of Manes to be
presented to him; the parasite cursed and renounced the heretic
heartily. Al Mamoun, however, was about to punish him for his temerity
and impudence, when Ibrahim, the son of Mahdi, who was present, said:
"Sire, let this man off, and I will relate to you a kind of Bohemian
adventure, of which I was the hero." The Caliph assented, and Ibrahim
continued:
"Prince of the believers, I had gone out one day, and was roving at
random through the streets of Bagdad, when I came to the porch of a
lofty mansion, whence issued a delicious odor of spices and dressed
meats, by which I was strongly attracted. I addressed a passer-by, and
asked to whom the house belonged. 'To a linen-merchant,' he answered.
'What is his name?' I asked. 'Such a one, son of such a one,' was his
reply. I lifted my eyes to the house. Through the lattice-work which
covered one of the windows I saw appear such a beautiful hand and wrist
as I had never seen before. The charm of this apparition made me forget
the enticing odors, and I stood there troubled and perplexed. Finally,
I asked the man, who had remained standing near, if the master of the
house ever gave entertainments. 'Yes, I think he is giving one to-day,'
he answered; 'but his guests are merchants, staid and sober people like
himself.'
"We were thus engaged in talk when two persons of well-to-do appearance
came down the street toward us. 'There are his two guests,' the man
said to me. 'What are their names and their fathers' names?' I asked.
He informed me, and I accosted them immediately, saying: 'May my
life be your sacrifice; your host is waiting impatiently for you.' I
escorted them to the door as if I belonged to the house; they went in,
and I followed. The master of the house perceived me, and, supposing
that I had been brought by his friends, received me graciously, and
placed me in the seat of honor. Then the meal was brought; it was well
served, and we did honor to the dishes, whose savor excelled their
odor. When the food had been removed and we had washed our hands,
our host led us into another hall richly adorned. He redoubled his
politeness toward me, and specially addressed his conversation to me.
The two guests believed me to be an intimate friend of his, while the
host treated me in this fashion because he believed I had been brought
by his two friends.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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