Ahmed and you hail me always by the name of Kasharkasha. Perhaps you mean to sell me?” While they were thus going along, talking and laughing, they came to a small village, some of the inhabitants of which recognised the shepherd and asked him: “Where have you got these fine clothes? Who are these men? Why have they tied your hands?” He said: “I have robbed a man of these clothes, and these men have caught me and are taking me to the king. I am willing to abandon the clothes but they will not abandon me. I beseech you, by the favour of Pír Muhammed Jendah Poosh, to give them anything they ask for my freedom, and I shall repay you in goats.” Several of the headmen of the village now stepped forward and addressed the king’s messengers: “Good friends, Kallam ed-Dín Ahmed confesses his fault, and he has acted wrongly. But of what use would it be to take him before the king? We have agreed to prepare a good roast for you if you will let him go.” But they laughed and said: “This is Kasharkasha, the king of Tytmyran, who succeeded the Jalyák, and having wantonly attacked our sovereign was put to flight. The king has sent a thousand men in pursuit of him, and has promised to confer dignity and wealth on his captor. We have searched for him without resting for more than three days, and it is not likely that we shall now let him go free. All his speeches come from a disordered mind.” Hearing this the villagers were astonished and silenced.
The messengers of Futtál Sháh proceeded to the city, and on their arrival the rumour soon spread that they had taken Kasharkasha. The shepherd was brought into the presence of the king, and the splendour of the court so dazzled him that he lost his speech, and the king thus addressed him: “You fool, do sovereigns and high personages indite such letters? Now shall I ignominiously kill you, as a warning to all presumptuous and foolish persons.” When the shepherd heard this sentence he was roused, and exclaimed: “O king, I swear, by the soul of Baba Nasym Sermest, that I made that very day a vow of repentance to go on pilgrimage to the tomb of Baba Jany and never again to commit such an act. Indeed the clothes are present and at hand. I possess several ewes big with young which I shall give you if you set me free. I have the sheep of one hundred men under my charge, and were any accident to befal them all my friends and relatives would be unable to make compensation on my account,” and he wept bitterly. Futtál Sháh asked in astonishment: “How does this reply agree with our question?” Upon this all the assembly smiled, and a merchant present, who had been at Tytmyran and knew the person of Kasharkasha, kissed the floor of civility, and said: “O king, this is not Kasharkasha. He is a man of handsome appearance and fair speech; this is an ignorant boor.” Hereupon the king first questioned the shepherd closely and then his captors, who stated their case, after which he declared: “Both parties are right; Kasharkasha was at the spring and has purposely misled you. At present there is no use of making further efforts, because he has gained time to go wherever he pleased.” Then he gave the shepherd five thousand dirhams and dismissed him.
Soon after Kasharkasha had concealed himself in the mountain cave he was driven out of it by hunger, and descending into the plain wandered from town to town, scratching the wound of the loss of his kingdom and of the treasure of prosperity with the nails of regret and sorrow, and keeping it fresh with the salt of repentance, until he arrived in Turkey. There it occurred to him one day that his father had told him, in case his good fortune should desert him, to visit the merchant Khoja Sadullah, who would aid him. So he proceeded to Baghdád and found the house of the merchant, who was a very kind-hearted man, and happened at the time to be going on a visit to the Khalíf, with whom he stood in high favour. On seeing Kasharkasha he concluded from his mean attire that he was a mendicant and ordered one of his attendants to give him alms, on receiving which the prince burst into tears. When Khoja Sadullah asked him why he wept, he produced his father’s signet, which when the Khoja examined, “This ring,” said he, “belongs to King Farídún of Fars. I gave it to him; but how came it into your possession?” Kasharkasha replied: “He is my father. The desire to travel has separated me from him, and the instability of fortune has reduced me to this pitiable state.” Khoja Sadullah warmly embraced and welcomed him, saying: “Forget all your troubles and be comforted; because you will again become lucky, and this unpropitious condition will depart from the horoscope of your felicity. All men are subject to reverses of fortune, but the end is frequently very happy. My life and property are at your service.” Then he sent the prince to the bath, provided him with a costly wardrobe, assigned to him a number of apartments fit for a royal personage, and appointed fifty slaves to wait on him, all of whom he ordered to obey and try to please him. Thus Fortune again smiled on Kasharkasha and he spent his days in comfort and felicity.
One day he was walking on the roof of the house and chanced to look into the haram of the Khoja, having mistaken it for that of another dwelling. The wife of the Khoja was in the open court-yard when his eye alighted on the countenance of that heart-ravishing beauty, which so captivated him that his person became more attenuated every day. He kept the matter to himself, but one of his attendants reported it to the Khoja, who seemed to pay no attention, but nevertheless went to his wife and said to her: “Darling of my soul, I have a request to make to you, but on condition that you swear to comply with it.” The lady took the required oath, and the Khoja continued: “I divorce you.” She asked: “Of what fault has the bud sprouted in the rose-grove of my imagination? And what crime have I committed to deserve your abhorrence and to be separated from you?” Quoth the Khoja: “God forbid that I should have experienced from you anything save kindness and love; but I have been compelled to part with you.”
The Khoja, having thus divorced his wife, went to Kasharkasha and spoke to him as follows: “I have been made aware of your condition, and your wish shall be gratified in a few days. The woman whom you have seen is the foster-sister of Farrukhzád the merchant. Her husband died a few days ago, and her time of mourning is not yet over. Her brother, my most intimate friend, is in Basra, and I have sent a man to him to sue for her hand in your behalf—be of good cheer.” Kasharkasha was highly pleased, and the Khoja amused him until the time required by the law was expired. Then he sent for the Kází, and Kasharkasha was married to the lady in due form. In the evening the Khoja led his former wife to the apartments of the prince; and, when she beheld the unparalleled beauty and comeliness of her new husband, she whispered to the Khoja: “Although you have divorced me, I thank God that I am to be the spouse of this youth.” When the Khoja had taken his leave, the prince asked the lady: “What did you just now whisper to the Khoja?” She replied: “Young man, I was the wife of the Khoja and we lived together very happily, but he has without any cause divorced me and married me to you; so I said to him, when I beheld you, and he had no longer any power over me: ‘Although you have divorced me without cause, I am delighted to be the wife of this young man, who seems to be a great deal better than yourself.’ ” As soon as Kasharkasha learned that she had been the wife of the Khoja he drew the hand of refusal over the breast of his desires and said:
“To overcome one’s own lust is victory;
To master one’s own passion is bravery indeed.
God forbid that I should touch this woman, for I consider her unlawful to me.” So he slept that night alone, and in the morning apologised to her, saying: “I was somewhat indisposed and unable to keep your company. Pray have patience for a few days till I recover fully.”
In this manner some days passed, when the prince, conversing with the Khoja about his own country, said to him: “It is now a long time since I left my dear father, and though I have in your company and by your kind services forgotten all my misfortunes, I nevertheless feel a very great desire to rejoin him.” Therefore the Khoja loaded twenty strings of camels with costly goods and sent them under the care of fifty trustworthy slaves with Kasharkasha. Taking affectionate leave of his benefactor and promising always most gratefully to remember his great kindness, the prince departed on the road to Fars. When he arrived in the vicinity of the capital he sent the glad tidings to his father, who hastened to meet him. They entered the city together, and King Farídún was so rejoiced at the happy event that he opened his treasury and distributed much money among the people. After some time he abdicated the government in favour of his beloved son, and died, leaving
