to procure the paraphernalia of the wedding ceremony; and when the report of my beauty and other qualities had spread through that city, the Amír verified it, was desirous to marry me, and said to my relatives: ‘I have heard that you have a beautiful girl, and I wish to take her for a wife.’ My father and my relatives consented; but as I was deeply in love with my uncle’s son, I became very indignant and exclaimed: ‘To how many men will you give your daughter? It is many years since you betrothed me to my cousin, and though he is absent at Banáres for the purpose of procuring the things needful for a household, I consider myself as under his protection, and shall never accept of another husband as long as I am alive. Do not try to force me, for I would rather commit suicide.’ This resolute declaration had the effect I desired, and, after holding a consultation with our relatives, my father determined that we should all flee to Banáres. I was dressed in male garments, and when night approached was taken out of the city and given in charge of two confidential servants who were to explain everything to my cousin, and we began our journey on fleet Arab steeds. After we had travelled for three days a fearful wind and thunderstorm overtook us in the desert, during which I became separated from my escort and was left alone. As I was roaming about I arrived at a green spot where I discovered a fountain, and feeling thirsty I alighted from my horse, which at once took to flight, and in my vain pursuit of it I chanced to meet an old woman who was weeping piteously and crying aloud: ‘O unhappy fate! have you at last in my old age and weakness thrown me into such a state that I must become the prey of wild beasts? Would to God some friend could take me by the hand and deliver me from this danger!’ I came forward and said: ‘Old woman, what has happened to you?’ She answered: ‘I was going on a pilgrimage to Makka, and when our caravan entered this desert it was plundered by robbers. Here have I been for two days without a morsel of food. Young man, have pity on my age and helplessness; deliver me from this calamity, and convey me to a place of security, that you may be rewarded for your good act.’ I had compassion on the wretched old woman and was considering what I could do for her, when she handed me an apple, of which I had no sooner eaten a small piece than I sneezed and fainted; nor was I sensible of aught until I again opened my eyes and found myself in this place with that accursed witch. When she saw me pale and frightened, she exclaimed: ‘Let nothing dismay you, for your life is not in danger from me;’ and thinking I was a man, she commenced to fondle me, but I soon undeceived her. Since that time four years have elapsed, during which, being myself miserable, I was compelled to entice helpless men into her snares. Nevertheless, one day I conceived that I might escape and secretly left the house, but I was instantly transformed into a she-dog, and was pursued by all the dogs in the town, so that I was again obliged to return to this place. But now I shall propose to you a means of escape, on condition that you convey me in safety to my friends.” Shah Manssur eagerly replied: “I promise to do whatever you require of me,” and the girl went on to say: “When the phial is broken the witch must die; request her therefore to give you tidings concerning your family, and as soon as she disappears you must strike the phial with a stone so as to break it.”[21]
Whilst they were conversing they perceived the accursed hag approaching. So the maiden left the apartment; and when the witch saw Shah Manssur weeping she asked him the reason, to which he answered: “It is now a long time since I was separated from my country, and I have had a fearful dream which afflicts me sorely.” Quoth the hag: “Be not distressed; I shall instantly give you information regarding your relatives;” so saying, she went to the phial, disappeared and quickly returned, and minutely described to him the dwelling as well as the condition of his parents and relatives. Manssur was astonished at the accuracy of her description, but, dissembling, said to her: “I cannot believe all this, because my country is far distant and you have returned in half a minute. Unless you bring me a token that you have really been there I cannot trust you.” Quoth the witch: “What kind of token do you desire?” Manssur replied: “In the garden of our house is a tree on which I once climbed, when a portion of my belt was torn off, which I tied to a branch. If you bring me a rag of the belt I shall then believe you.” When he had said this the witch went again to the phial, and, as before, disappeared. This time the girl brought Shah Manssur a stone; he invoked the aid of God the Most High, and striking the phial, it flew into pieces. Then the lion roared, the chains clanked, the little bells jingled, a fearful noise was heard, some blood dripped from the ceiling of the apartment to the ground, and the magical apparatus, the furniture, the chambers, and the entire edifice vanished, leaving Shah Manssur and the maiden standing together in a cemetery, and both poured forth their thanks to the Most High. Then the girl said: “My dear friend, from hence to Agra is ten days’ journey;” and handing him some costly pearls she added, “try to convey me quickly to my parents, and buy with these pearls all that is necessary for me on the way.” Shah Manssur purchased a camel with a litter and a slave for the damsel, and sent her off to her own country, after which he set out on foot, and in a destitute condition, for Burhanpúr.
When Shah Manssur arrived at his destination he heard that the Amír of Burhanpúr, while hunting, had lost a precious gem from the hilt of his sword, and had issued an order that all the citizens should go next morning to the hunting ground in search of it. So rich and poor, gentle and simple, left the city and roamed about. Shah Manssur joined the crowd, and was fortunate enough to find the lost gem. On presenting it to the Amír he was highly pleased, praised him greatly, and questioned him as to his connections and circumstances; after which he gave him in charge of one of his chamberlains to provide for him as soon as possible. It happened, however, that the Amír died suddenly, and the reward promised to Manssur came to nothing.
The son of the Amír succeeded his father. One day a merchant presented him with a parrot that could speak with great eloquence, and the new Amír entrusted it to the care of the chamberlain, who took the bird home, and having sent for Manssur said to him: “Take the utmost care of this parrot, for it may become the means of introducing you to the Amír, and of your obtaining the reward which his father promised you.”[22] Manssur took charge of the bird and carried it away; but when he got into the street the people were all so anxious to see it and pressed so much upon him that he thought it would be better to take the parrot out of the cage and carry it in his hand. But unluckily it escaped from his grasp and flew to the top of the chamberlain’s haram. Manssur had great trouble in climbing the wall, and just as he had succeeded the parrot again flitted away and alighted on the roof of one of the haram apartments. Shah Manssur was so frightened that he said nothing to the eunuch and other servants, but threw up a cord, by means of which he contrived to reach the spot; but once more the parrot started off, and in so doing moved a tile which fell on the head of the chief lady of the chamberlain’s haram and killed her there and then. The eunuchs and maid-servants, on discovering this fatal mishap, raised their voices in lamentation, which caused the chamberlain to leave his office and run into the haram, where he found everyone in a state of great agitation, and Shah Manssur a captive in the hands of the eunuchs, and he at once ordered the culprit to be beaten and thrown into prison, where the poor fellow was kept for some time and tormented every day until he found a favourable opportunity and escaped.
Shah Manssur fled to Guzerat, where he wandered about in great distress, sometimes hiring himself out as a labourer and sometimes as a porter. One day, when he was unable to obtain either food or employment, he determined to sell the ring with which the neighbour’s wife had presented him.[23] He was chiefly induced to take this step by sniffing the appetising fumes of roast meat in passing a cook’s shop, the owner of which he approached, and requesting something to eat offered the ring in pledge for the price. But when the cook looked at the ruby set in the beazle and then at the poverty-stricken figure of Shah Manssur, he felt sure that he could not be the lawful possessor of such a gem but must have stolen it, and that, not knowing its real value, he was ready to part with it for a meal. Now it chanced that during the preceding night some thieves had broken into the treasury of the Amír and stolen a great quantity of gold, silver, precious stones, and valuables of all kinds; and this audacious robbery had become known throughout the city and the police were busy searching the bazárs and private houses for the thieves. So the cook said to Shah Manssur: “Friend, you do not look like the owner of such a ring as this;—come, tell me where you got it?” “What business have you thus to question me?” replied Manssur. “Either give me something to eat or return me the
