the same witch whose captive I had been for some time, until at last I contrived to send her here and escape;” and at this explanation they were greatly amazed.[29]
Shah Manssur once took a large quantity of merchandise, with many attendants, to the country of Tabríz, which was at that time under the Turkish government. He waited on the Amír of Tabríz, associated with him, and so gained his favour that he made him his vazír; and when the Amír died, the citizens, being pleased with the kind and just disposition of Shah Manssur in his capacity of vazír, petitioned the sultan to make him Amír, a request which was readily granted, and Shah Manssur governed in Tabríz for many years until he died.
“My dear Nassar,” continued Khayrandísh, “I have related this narrative to make you understand that a man cannot attain the object of his desires by irregular wanderings and inordinate appetites; but if he be patient he will succeed. The world is a coquette, and the more she is courted the more coy and prudish she becomes, but if left unnoticed she will try to gain our favours.”
Second Advice.
“It is necessary to guard oneself from the wiles and snares of our fellow-beings, and not to trust implicitly in persons whose character is neither known nor tried. Whoever walks among thorns must do so with great care and precaution. This world resembles a picture-gallery with many apartments, each of which has its own peculiar attractions; but a man who should spend all his time in the contemplation and enjoyment thereof, to the neglect and disregard of his daily avocations, would injure his own interests. Therefore he is prudent who runs not after every fleeting illusion, but bridles his desires lest he be disappointed and rendered unhappy, like the geomancer, the washerman, and the painter, who lost control of their passions and were drowned in the ocean of misfortunes and errors, grieving over their troubles, which they were unable to remedy.” Then Khayrandísh told Nassar the
Story of Hatim Taï and the Benevolent Lady.
It is related that when Hatim Taï[30] was dispensing his bounty one day in a hall which had forty doors, by every one of which the destitute might be admitted, a darvesh entered and thus addressed him: “O vernal cloud of liberality! the mead of hope expects to be irrigated by you. O husbandman of the field of beneficence, the aspirants to your favours are in attendance to receive your refreshing showers, and this gleaner from the store-houses of your bounty was by the guide of hope directed to the prosperous mansion of your generosity!
Bestow gifts, O noble individual,
For liberality is the lamp in the assembly of Faith.
Whoever gives a dirham to a mendicant
Is favourably regarded by God.
The umbrella of victory, in both worlds,
Overshadows the glorious heads of the liberal.”
Hatim ordered one hundred dínars[31] to be given to the darvesh, who again entered by another door and reiterated his petition, and again obtained one hundred dínars. Thus he repeated his request until he had come in by all the forty doors, and had obtained the same sum at each of them. After that he reappeared at the first door and proffered the same request, upon which an attendant said to him: “Darvesh, you have made the round of all the entrances and were disappointed at none. How is it that your greediness is not yet satisfied, and that you have exposed yourself to a refusal?” The darvesh heaved a deep sigh and replied: “The fame of Hatim, which extends over the whole world, has induced me to travel from China to this place. But in that country there is a lady more liberal than he, inasmuch as her largesses surpass the most extravagant expectations of those who receive them, so that a hundred Hatims could not equal in many years the sums which she disburses in one day.” When the darvesh had thus spoken he disappeared, and Hatim became desirous of ascertaining the truth of his statement, so he departed for China, and, arrived there, considering how he might accomplish his object, he walked about the streets.
He perceived great crowds of people hastening away and inquired the reason, when a man answered: “In this city there was a man of the name of Nassar-ullah, who possessed immense riches. He left a daughter who distributes in great profusion—and has done so for several years—money to all persons. If you wish to know whether I speak the truth, you have only to follow the crowd.” Accordingly Hatim went along with the people, and arrived at a beautiful palace where servants dressed in rich garments received everyone who wished to enter. Within the palace Hatim saw a large assembly reposing on silken couches, with tables before them on which the finest dainties were placed in rich variety and abundance. After the repast was over a confidential servant appeared with a platter full of pieces of paper on which different sums were written; and to every person who was about to depart he handed one of those papers. When Hatim’s turn came he also received one, and the assembly broke up. As the people arrived at the gate each man handed his paper to a servant, who gave him in return a bag full of gold according to the amount specified on the little ticket. Hatim was so much astonished at what he had seen that he was constantly thinking of the immense riches of the lady, and was extremely anxious to obtain an interview with her. So he requested a chamberlain to procure him the honour of an audience, and on being admitted into the presence of that queen he addressed her as follows: “Most exalted lady of the mansions of liberality, and húrí of the castles of felicity!
May the rose of your nature constantly
Be blooming joyfully in the spring of generosity!
The hand of your liberality, beauteous fairy,
Is shedding jewels like the vernal cloud.
Your servant has a difficulty,
Which causes him great anxiety:
If you grant my petition,
I shall humbly explain it.”
That idol of high prosperity gave permission, and Hatim spake thus: “I hear that the stream of your extraordinary liberality has for several years flowed with undiminished vigour, and I am curious to know how you obtained such enormous wealth.” Quoth the lady: “Every assembly receives light from its lamp, and the destiny of every individual is traced out on his forehead by the hand of divine providence.
Love was the bulbul’s, and beauty the rose’s share;
Liberal persons are the treasurers of the mercy of God.
The state of my affairs is connected with a tale which I shall communicate to you on two conditions: First, I am informed that at present there exists a man of the name of Hatim, whose liberality is so far famed that in spite of my having for a number of years made it my business to grant to all persons the richest and most abundant gifts, my name is not even heard of except in this country; therefore I am so jealous of Hatim that I wish you to kill him. Secondly, I have heard that in the neighbourhood of Khatá there is an exceedingly high mountain, in a cave of which a blind man has dwelt for many years, who never utters any words save these:
‘If you possess one barley-corn of justice,
You will never have half a grain of sorrow,’
and I desire to know his reason for constantly repeating these words.”
Hatim drew the finger of acquiescence over the face of content, took his leave, and set out for the cave indicated by the lady. There he found a blind man, whom he requested to relate his adventures. But the blind man replied: “My good friend, what can have instigated you to make such a request? I have no doubt that your mind is often exercised with problems which you cannot solve; and I pray you to consider this question as one of them.” Hatim, however, went on to say: “Persons of a kindly disposition generally comply with the requests of the importunate, and I hope you will not allow me to depart from this place