the veil from the surface of the mystery on one condition: It is long since I heard that there is a washerman in Khatá who goes every morning to the bank of the river and does nothing but look at a tree which is there, leap about like a madman, sigh deeply, and repeat these verses:
‘Alas, that your picture has left my sight,
And left my golden chalice empty of the wine of joy!
It is the wish of my heart that once more I may meet her.’
Now, my good friend, if you acquaint me with the story of that washerman, I shall have no objection to relate to you my own history.”
Accordingly Hatim proceeded in quest of the washerman, and finding the blind man’s account of him perfectly accurate, he was not a little astonished at his actions and said to him: “Friend, if you would kindly inform me why you act in this strange manner, I might be able to help you in your troubles and perhaps liberate you from your affliction.” But the washerman sighed and only said in reply: “The wound of my heart no medicine can heal, nor can any advice help me. I am incurable, and the grief of my heart would only be augmented were I to reveal it.
I had better hide my sorrow from empirics;
Perchance the divine mercy will cure my grief.”
Quoth Hatim: “Young man, stand not on ceremony with me, for I shall not quit hold of your skirt until you have told me your adventures.” Then said the washerman: “I also have a great curiosity regarding a certain matter, and if you will satisfy it I shall relate to you my story. Know that in Máchin there is a man who paints on a board, during the whole year, a picture of the handsomest kind, which he sells in the bazár at the end of the year for a thousand dínars, and then returns the money and breaks his picture to pieces. I wish to learn the reason of this proceeding.” “Alas, and woe is me!” exclaimed Hatim. “Into what a labyrinth of troubles have I fallen, to be thus required to solve one enigma after another!” He had, however, no alternative but to go to the city of Máchin, and it so chanced that he arrived there at the time when the painter had brought his picture to the bazár and was surrounded by such a great crowd of people that Hatim could only get near him as a bidder, and assisted at the sale until the painter broke his picture and gathered up the fragments, when the crowd dispersed with exclamations of regret. Hatim then visited the painter and addressed him, saying: “Young man, what is your opinion regarding hospitality?” In reply the painter recited these verses:
“A guest is a flower from the garden of prosperity and mercy;
He is the fruit of the spring of happiness.
Whoever is inhospitable injures his own soul.”
He received Hatim in a very friendly manner, and inquired of him: “To what circumstance may I ascribe the happiness of being visited by you?” Quoth Hatim: “The mysterious force which attracts kindred spirits to each other has made me trespass on your retirement.” After an interchange of courtesies they became quite intimate, and Hatim, anxious to attain his object, said to the painter: “Dear friend, I conjure you, by the obligations which you have already conferred on me, to explain the cause of what I have witnessed this day,” and he thus complied:
The Painter’s Story.
In former times, when the refreshing clouds of youth and strength watered the grove of my life, I decked out my imagination with the variegated robes of pleasure, and during the greater portion of that period the buds of all kinds of desires blossomed, and the ardent longings to embrace the fairy of enjoyment took possession of my heart. I had a delightful garden in which I walked about one day according to my usual custom, when I beheld two serpents fighting. One was black, the other white; the latter seemed to be the weaker and about to succumb to its antagonist; and, as every one who removes a thorn from the path of a bare-footed person performs a good action, I drew my scymetar and struck off the head of the black serpent. That very moment the sky became darkened, something roared in the air, a phial fell to the earth and was shattered to pieces, at the same time the white serpent disappeared. I was astonished at what had taken place, but again returned to the garden next day to walk about in it. In passing near the bank of a river I observed a white hand protruding from the water, each finger of which was adorned with a ring set with precious stones of a brilliancy never before seen by the eyes of man. The desire of possessing such gems incited me to seize one of the fingers, when the hand drew me instantly into the river, and on opening my eyes I found myself in a garden like Paradise, full of the most beautiful flowers and trees. When I had recovered from my confusion and astonishment I began to stroll about that spacious garden until I reached a splendid building, which I entered, and discovered a person seated on a throne surrounded by attendants. I approached and humbly saluted him; he received me kindly, called me nearer, and said: “I am surprised to behold you in this place.” To which I answered: “May it please your exalted majesty, I have not intruded, but was forced to come into this region,” and I explained the whole affair. Then quoth he: “On account of the benefit you have conferred on our family, we were extremely anxious to see you.” On hearing these words I began to consider to what nation this man might belong, and what good service I could possibly have rendered him, when he proceeded to say: “I know that you are thinking of me. My name is Zayn al-Mafakhir. From Ma-varannahr, which is inhabited by men, the country as far as China is in my power; and, except my ancestors, none of the fairies or genii can enter it. I am obeyed by more than thirty thousand genii and fairies. I have a daughter called Subayha, who is innocent and beautiful. One of the chief genii had fallen in love with her and wished to marry her, and with this object had sent a messenger to enter into negotiations; but, as enmity and strife existed between us, I refused to have anything to do with him. This so incensed the suitor that he despatched a genie to steal my daughter; but my spies having informed me of his proceedings, I constantly watched the girl. She was, however, wont to visit your garden, and two days ago she happened to be there when Jarbua assumed the form of a black serpent, and had almost effected his purpose when you passed by and killed him. Subayha told me of this, and I resolved to make you her husband.”
When the maiden was shown to me, her bewitching eye at once captured the fawn of the repose of my heart; and on beholding the extraordinary attractions of her person I fell ardently in love with her; and Zayn al-Mafakhir said: “Subayha belongs to you. But, as the nature of a fairy is entirely different from that of a human being, you must never contradict or irritate her, but obey her in all things, lest the thread of your affection be snapped in twain.” I promised to follow these injunctions most faithfully; married Subayha; obtained all the necessaries for housekeeping; and Zayn al-Mafakhir went to reside in another place, leaving his palace with all its furniture and servants for our use. In due course my wife gave birth to a son, and at the moment a wolf appeared, to whom she threw the infant, and he walked off with it. On seeing this act of cruelty my heart was sorely grieved for my child, but on account of my promise I could not say anything, and renewed my intimacy with her. After this we had three more children, two of whom she threw to wolves and the third into the fire; and each time I was overwhelmed with sorrow, until one day, when a grandee of that region sent me some rich food, and I was just about to begin to eat it with perfect zest when my wife dashed it from me, at which patience forsook me, and I said to her: “Darling, in every thing my only desire is to please you, and I have never failed in my duty towards you. But what gave occasion for your unkindness? Three of my children you have given to wolves, the fourth you have cast into the fire, and sorrow for their loss had well-nigh killed me, though I did not complain to you; and now you have thrown away the most delicious food. Surely these are all tokens of your displeasure and even hatred!” The fuel of these words set the oven of the lady’s anger in a blaze, and she exclaimed:
“To expect fidelity from a weak man
Is like mistaking a drop of water for a pearl.
Young man, on the day of our union you promised not to ask the reason of anything I should do. The children whom you thought I had given to wolves and thrown into the fire were simply delivered to their nurses, and all are alive and well.” Hereupon she showed me our four children, who were extremely beautiful. Then she continued: “The food which I threw away had been poisoned