of scents and spices from a druggist's store, she halted before a magnificent
palace, at the door of which she knocked gently. The porteress who opened it
was of such beauty that the eyes of the man were quite dazzled, and he was the
more astonished as he saw clearly that she was no slave. The lady who had led
him hither stood watching him with amusement, till the porteress exclaimed,
"Why don't you come in, my sister? This poor man is so heavily weighed down
that he is ready to drop."
When they were both inside the door was fastened, and they all three entered a
large court, surrounded by an open-work gallery. At one end of the court was a
platform, and on the platform stood an amber throne supported by four ebony
columns, garnished with pearls and diamonds. In the middle of the court stood a
marble basin filled with water from the mouth of a golden lion.
The porter looked about him, noticing and admiring everything; but his attention
was specially attracted by a third lady sitting on the throne, who was even more
beautiful than the other two. By the respect shown to her by the others, he
judged that she must be the eldest, and in this he was right. This lady's name
was Zobeida, the porteress was Sadie, and the housekeeper was Amina. At a
word from Zobeida, Sadie and Amina took the basket from the porter, who was
glad enough to be relieved from its weight; and when it was emptied, paid him
handsomely for its use. But instead of taking up his basket and going away, the
man still lingered, till Zobeida inquired what he was waiting for, and if he
expected more money. "Oh, madam," returned he, "you have already given me
too much, and I fear I may have been guilty of rudeness in not taking my
departure at once. But, if you will pardon my saying so, I was lost in
astonishment at seeing such beautiful ladies by themselves. A company of
women without men is, however, as dull as a company of men without women."
And after telling some stories to prove his point, he ended by entreating them to
let him stay and make a fourth at their dinner.
The ladies were rather amused at the man's assurances and after some
discussion it was agreed that he should be allowed to stay, as his society might
prove entertaining. "But listen, friend," said Zobeida, "if we grant your request, it
is only on condition that you behave with the utmost politeness, and that you
keep the secret of our way of living, which chance has revealed to you." Then
they all sat down to table, which had been covered by Amina with the dishes she
had bought.
After the first few mouthfuls Amina poured some wine into a golden cup. She first
drank herself, according to the Arab custom, and then filled it for her sisters.
When it came to the porter's turn he kissed Amina's hand, and sang a song,
which he composed at the moment in praise of the wine. The three ladies were
pleased with the song, and then sang themselves, so that the repast was a merry
one, and lasted much longer than usual.
At length, seeing that the sun was about to set, Sadia said to the porter, "Rise
and go; it is now time for us to separate."
"Oh, madam," replied he, "how can you desire me to quit you in the state in
which I am? Between the wine I have drunk, and the pleasure of seeing you, I
should never find the way to my house. Let me remain here till morning, and
when I have recovered my senses I will go when you like."
"Let him stay," said Amina, who had before proved herself his friend. "It is only
just, as he has given us so much amusement."
"If you wish it, my sister," replied Zobeida; "but if he does, I must make a new
condition. Porter," she continued, turning to him, "if you remain, you must
promise to ask no questions about anything you may see. If you do, you may
perhaps hear what you don't like."
This being settled, Amina brought in supper, and lit up the hall with a number of
sweet smelling tapers. They then sat down again at the table, and began with
fresh appetites to eat, drink, sing, and recite verses. In fact, they were all
enjoying themselves mightily when they heard a knock at the outer door, which
Sadie rose to open. She soon returned saying that three Calenders, all blind in
the right eye, and all with their heads, faces, and eyebrows clean shaved,
begged for admittance, as they were newly arrived in Bagdad, and night had
already fallen. "They seem to have pleasant manners," she added, "but you have
no idea how funny they look. I am sure we should find their company diverting."
Zobeida and Amina made some difficulty about admitting the new comers, and
Sadie knew the reason of their hesitation. But she urged the matter so strongly
that Zobeida was at last forced to consent. "Bring them in, then," said she, "but
make them understand that they are not to make remarks about what does not
concern them, and be sure to make them read the inscription over the door." For
on the door was written in letters of gold, "Whoso meddles in affairs that are no
business of his, will hear truths that will not please him."
The three Calenders bowed low on entering, and thanked the ladies for their
kindness and hospitality. The ladies replied with words of welcome, and they
were all about to seat themselves when the eyes of the Calenders fell on the
porter, whose dress was not so very unlike their own, though he still wore all the
hair that nature had given him. "This," said one of them, "is apparently one of our
Arab brothers, who has rebelled against our ruler."
The porter, although half asleep from the wine he had drunk, heard the words,
and without moving cried angrily to the Calender, "Sit down and mind your own
business. Did you not read the inscription over the door? Everybody is not
obliged to live in the same way."
"Do not be so angry, my good man," replied the Calender; "we should be very
sorry to displease you;" so the quarrel was smoothed over, and supper began in
good earnest. When the Calenders had satisfied their hunger, they offered to
play to their hostesses, if there were any instruments in the house. The ladies
were delighted at the idea, and Sadie went to see what she could find, returning
in a few moments laden with two different kinds of flutes and a tambourine. Each
Calender took the one he preferred, and began to play a well-known air, while
the ladies sang the words of the song. These words were the gayest and liveliest
possible, and every now and then the singers had to stop to indulge the laughter
which almost choked them. In the midst of all their noise, a knock was heard at
the door.
Now early that evening the Caliph secretly left the palace, accompanied by his
grand-vizir, Giafar, and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, all three wearing the
dresses of merchants. Passing down the street, the Caliph had been attracted by
the music of instruments and the sound of laughter, and had ordered his vizir to
go and knock at the door of the house, as he wished to enter. The vizir replied
that the ladies who lived there seemed to be entertaining their friends, and he
thought his master would do well not to intrude on them; but the Caliph had taken
it into his head to see for himself, and insisted on being obeyed.
The knock was answered by Sadie, with a taper in her hand, and the vizir, who
was surprised at her beauty, bowed low before her, and said respectfully,
"Madam, we are three merchants who have lately arrived from Moussoul, and,
owing to a misadventure which befel us this very night, only reached our inn to
find that the doors were closed to us till to-morrow morning. Not knowing what to
do, we wandered in the streets till we happened to pass your house, when,
seeing lights and hearing the sound of voices, we resolved to ask you to give us
shelter till the dawn. If you will grant us this favour, we will, with your permission,
do all in our power to help you spend the time pleasantly."
Sadie answered the merchant that she must first consult her sisters; and after
having talked over the matter with them, she returned to tell him that he and his
two friends would be welcome to join their company. They entered and bowed
politely to the ladies and their guests. Then Zobeida, as the mistress, came
forward and said gravely, "You are welcome here, but I hope you will allow me to
beg one thing of you--have as many eyes as you like, but no tongues; and ask no
questions about anything you see, however strange it may appear to you."
"Madam," returned the vizir, "you shall be obeyed. We have quite enough to
please and interest us without troubling ourselves about that with which we have
no concern." Then they all sat down, and drank to the health of the new comers.
While the vizir, Giafar, was talking to the ladies the Caliph was occupied in
wondering who they could be, and why the three Calenders had each lost his
right eye. He was burning to inquire the reason of it all, but was silenced by
Zobeida's request, so he tried to rouse himself and to take his part in the
conversation, which was very lively, the subject of discussion being the many
different sorts of pleasures that there were in the world. After some time the
Calenders got up and performed some curious dances, which delighted the rest
of the company.
When they had finished Zobeida rose from her seat, and, taking Amina by the
hand, she said to her, "My sister, our friends will excuse us if we seem to forget
their presence and fulfil our nightly task." Amina understood her sister's meaning,
and collecting the dishes, glasses, and musical instruments, she carried them
away, while Sadie swept the hall and put everything in order. Having done this
she begged the Calenders to sit on a sofa on one side of the room, and the
Caliph and his friends to place themselves opposite. As to the porter, she
requested him to come and help her and her sister.
Shortly after Amina entered carrying a seat, which she put down in the middle of
the empty space. She next went over to the door of a closet and signed to the
porter to follow her. He did so, and soon reappeared leading two black dogs by a
chain, which he brought into the centre of the hall. Zobeida then got up from her
seat between the Calenders and the Caliph and walked slowly across to where
the porter stood with the dogs. "We must do our duty," she said with a deep sigh,
pushing back her sleeves, and, taking a whip from Sadie, she said to the man,
"Take one of those dogs to my sister Amina and give me the other."
The porter did as he was bid, but as he led the dog to Zobeida it uttered piercing
howls, and gazed up at her with looks of entreaty. But Zobeida took no notice,
and whipped the dog till she was out of breath. She then took the chain from the
porter, and, raising the dog on its hind legs, they looked into each other's eyes
sorrowfully till tears began to fall from both. Then Zobeida took her handkerchief
and wiped the dog's eyes tenderly, after which she kissed it, then, putting the
chain into the porter's hand she said, "Take it back to the closet and bring me the
other."
The same ceremony was gone through with the second dog, and all the while the
whole company looked on with astonishment. The Caliph in particular could
hardly contain himself, and made signs to the vizir to ask what it all meant. But
the vizir pretended not to see, and turned his head away.
Zobeida remained for some time in the middle of the room, till at last Sadie went
up to her and begged her to sit down, as she also had her part to play. At these
words Amina fetched a lute from a case of yellow satin and gave it to Sadie, who
sang several songs to its accompaniment. When she was tired she said to
Amina, "My sister, I can do no more; come, I pray you, and take my place."
Amina struck a few chords and then broke into a song, which she sang with so
much ardour that she was quite overcome, and sank gasping on a pile of
cushions, tearing open her dress as she did so to give herself some air. To the
amazement of all present, her neck, instead of being as smooth and white as her
face, was a mass of scars.
The Calenders and the Caliph looked at each other, and whispered together,
unheard by Zobeida and Sadie, who were tending their fainting sister.
"What does it all mean? ' asked the Caliph.
"We know no more than you," said the Calender to whom he had spoken.
"What! You do not belong to the house?"
"My lord," answered all the Calenders together, "we came here for the first time
an hour before you."
They then turned to the porter to see if he could explain the mystery, but the
porter was no wiser than they were themselves. At length the Caliph could
contain his curiosity no longer, and declared that he would compel the ladies to
tell them the meaning of their strange conduct. The vizir, foreseeing what would
happen, implored him to remember the condition their hostesses had imposed,
and added in a whisper that if his Highness would only wait till morning he could
as Caliph summon the ladies to appear before him. But the Caliph, who was not
accustomed to be contradicted, rejected this advice, and it was resolved after a
little more talking that the question should be put by the porter. Suddenly Zobeida
turned round, and seeing their excitement she said, "What is the matter-- what
are you all discussing so earnestly?"
"Madam," answered the porter, "these gentlemen entreat you to explain to them
why you should first whip the dogs and then cry over them, and also how it
happens that the fainting lady is covered with scars. They have requested me,
Madam, to be their mouthpiece."
"Is it true, gentlemen," asked Zobeida, drawing herself up, "that you have
charged this man to put me that question?"
"It is," they all replied, except Giafar, who was silent.
"Is this," continued Zobeida, growing more angry every moment, "is this the
return you make for the hospitality I have shown you? Have you forgotten the
one condition on which you were allowed to enter the house? Come quickly," she
added, clapping her hands three times, and the words were hardly uttered when
seven black slaves, each armed with a sabre, burst in and stood over the seven
men, throwing them on the ground, and preparing themselves, on a sign from
their mistress, to cut off their heads.
The seven culprits all thought their last hour had come, and the Caliph repented
bitterly that he had not taken the vizir's advice. But they made up their minds to
die bravely, all except the porter, who loudly inquired of Zobeida why he was to
suffer for other people's faults, and declared that these misfortunes would never
have happened if it had not been for the Calenders, who always brought ill-luck.
He ended by imploring Zobeida not to confound the innocent with the guilty and
to spare his life.
In spite of her anger, there was something so comic in the groans of the porter
that Zobeida could not refrain from laughing. But putting him aside she
addressed the others a second time, saying, "Answer me; who are you? Unless
you tell me truly you have not another moment to live. I can hardly think you are
men of any position, whatever country you belong to. If you were, you would
have had more consideration for us."
The Caliph, who was naturally very impatient, suffered far more than either of the
others at feeling that his life was at the mercy of a justly offended lady, but when
he heard her question he began to breathe more freely, for he was convinced
that she had only to learn his name and rank for all danger to be over. So he
whispered hastily to the vizir, who was next to him, to reveal their secret. But the
vizir, wiser than his master, wished to conceal from the public the affront they
had received, and merely answered, "After all, we have only got what we
deserved."
Meanwhile Zobeida had turned to the three Calenders and inquired if, as they
were all blind, they were brothers.
"No, madam," replied one, "we are no blood relations at all, only brothers by our
mode of life."
"And you," she asked, addressing another, "were you born blind of one eye?"
"No, madam," returned he, "I became blind through a most surprising adventure,
such as probably has never happened to anybody. After that I shaved my head
and eyebrows and put on the dress in which you see me now."
Zobeida put the same question to the other two Calenders, and received the
same answer.
"But," added the third, "it may interest you, madam, to know that we are not men
of low birth, but are all three sons of kings, and of kings, too, whom the world
holds in high esteem."
At these words Zobeida's anger cooled down, and she turned to her slaves and
said, "You can give them a little more liberty, but do not leave the hall. Those that
will tell us their histories and their reasons for coming here shall be allowed to
leave unhurt; those who refuse--" And she paused, but in a moment the porter,
who understood that he had only to relate his story to set himself free from this
terrible danger, immediately broke in,
"Madam, you know already how I came here, and what I have to say will soon be
told. Your sister found me this morning in the place where I always stand waiting
to be hired. She bade me follow her to various shops, and when my basket was
quite full we returned to this house, when you had the goodness to permit me to
remain, for which I shall be eternally grateful. That is my story."
He looked anxiously to Zobeida, who nodded her head and said, "You can go;
and take care we never meet again."
"Oh, madam," cried the porter, "let me stay yet a little while. It is not just that the
others should have heard my story and that I should not hear theirs," and without
waiting for permission he seated himself on the end of the sofa occupied by the
ladies, whilst the rest crouched on the carpet, and the slaves stood against the
wall.
Then one of the Calenders, addressing himself to Zobeida as the principal lady,
began his story.
The Story of the First Calender, Son of a King
In order, madam, to explain how I came to lose my right eye, and to wear the
dress of a Calender, you must first know that I am the son of a king. My father's
only brother reigned over the neighbouring country, and had two children, a
daughter and a son, who were of the same age as myself.
As I grew up, and was allowed more liberty, I went every year to pay a visit to my
uncle's court, and usually stayed there about two months. In this way my cousin
and I became very intimate, and were much attached to each other. The very last
time I saw him he seemed more delighted to see me than ever, and gave a great
feast in my honour. When we had finished eating, he said to me, "My cousin, you
would never guess what I have been doing since your last visit to us! Directly
after your departure I set a number of men to work on a building after my own
design. It is now completed, and ready to be lived in. I should like to show it to
you, but you must first swear two things: to be faithful to me, and to keep my
secret."
Of course I did not dream of refusing him anything he asked, and gave the
promise without the least hesitation. He then bade me wait an instant, and
vanished, returning in a few moments with a richly dressed lady of great beauty,
but as he did not tell me her name, I thought it was better not to inquire. We all
three sat down to table and amused ourselves with talking of all sorts of
indifferent things, and with drinking each other's health. Suddenly the prince said
to me, "Cousin, we have no time to lose; be so kind as to conduct this lady to a
certain spot, where you will find a dome-like tomb, newly built. You cannot
mistake it. Go in, both of you, and wait till I come. I shall not be long."
As I had promised I prepared to do as I was told, and giving my hand to the lady,
I escorted her, by the light of the moon, to the place of which the prince had
spoken. We had barely reached it when he joined us himself, carrying a small
vessel of water, a pickaxe, and a little bag containing plaster.
With the pickaxe he at once began to destroy the empty sepulchre in the middle
of the tomb. One by one he took the stones and piled them up in a corner. When
he had knocked down the whole sepulchre he proceeded to dig at the earth, and
beneath where the sepulchre had been I saw a trap-door. He raised the door and
I caught sight of the top of a spiral staircase; then he said, turning to the lady,
"Madam, this is the way that will lead you down to the spot which I told you of."
The lady did not answer, but silently descended the staircase, the prince
following her. At the top, however, he looked at me. "My cousin," he exclaimed, "I
do not know how to thank you for your kindness. Farewell."
"What do you mean?" I cried. "I don't understand."
"No matter," he replied, "go back by the path that you came."
He would say no more, and, greatly puzzled, I returned to my room in the palace
and went to bed. When I woke, and considered my adventure, I thought that I
must have been dreaming, and sent a servant to ask if the prince was dressed
and could see me. But on hearing that he had not slept at home I was much
alarmed, and hastened to the cemetery, where, unluckily, the tombs were all so
alike that I could not discover which was the one I was in search of, though I
spent four days in looking for it.
You must know that all this time the king, my uncle, was absent on a hunting
expedition, and as no one knew when he would be back, I at last decided to
return home, leaving the ministers to make my excuses. I longed to tell them
what had become of the prince, about whose fate they felt the most dreadful
anxiety, but the oath I had sworn kept me silent.
On my arrival at my father's capital, I was astonished to find a large detachment
of guards drawn up before the gate of the palace; they surrounded me directly I
entered. I asked the officers in command the reason of this strange behaviour,
and was horrified to learn that the army had mutinied and put to death the king,
my father, and had placed the grand-vizir on the throne. Further, that by his
orders I was placed under arrest.
Now this rebel vizir had hated me from my boy-hood, because once, when
shooting at a bird with a bow, I had shot out his eye by accident. Of course I not
only sent a servant at once to offer him my regrets and apologies, but I made
them in person. It was all of no use. He cherished an undying hatred towards me,
and lost no occasion of showing it. Having once got me in his power I felt he
could show no mercy, and I was right. Mad with triumph and fury he came to me
in my prison and tore out my right eye. That is how I lost it.
My persecutor, however, did not stop here. He shut me up in a large case and
ordered his executioner to carry me into a desert place, to cut off my head, and
then to abandon my body to the birds of prey. The case, with me inside it, was
accordingly placed on a horse, and the executioner, accompanied by another
man, rode into the country until they found a spot suitable for the purpose. But
their hearts were not so hard as they seemed, and my tears and prayers made
them waver.
"Forsake the kingdom instantly," said the executioner at last, "and take care
never to come back, for you will not only lose your head, but make us lose ours."
I thanked him gratefully, and tried to console myself for th