Prevod
He said: It has reached me, O King, that there was once a man of noble family and ample fortune, who possessed wealth, servants, slaves, and estates. He died and passed into the mercy of God Most High, leaving a young son. When the boy grew up, he gave himself over to eating and drinking, listening to music and song, and lavishing gifts with an open hand, until he had spent all the wealth his father had left him … But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.
When it was the five hundred and eighty-eighth night,
She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when the young man had squandered all the money his father had left him, with nothing remaining, he began selling the slaves, slave-girls, and estates. He spent everything he possessed, whether inherited from his father or acquired elsewhere, until he was so poor that he had to work as a common laborer. He lived in this way for a year. One day, as he sat beneath a wall waiting for someone to hire him, a man of handsome appearance and fine clothing approached and greeted him. “Uncle,” the young man asked, “have you known me before today?” “I have never known you, my son,” he replied, “but even in your present condition I can see the traces of former prosperity upon you.” “Uncle,” said the young man, “fate and destiny have taken their course. Have you, fair-faced uncle, any task for which you might employ me?” “My son,” he answered, “I wish to employ you in a simple matter.” “What is it, uncle?” asked the youth. “I have ten old men living in one house,” he said, “and we have no one to attend to our needs. We shall provide you with sufficient food and clothing, and you will serve us. You shall also receive whatever kindness and money we can bestow upon you, and perhaps through us God will restore your former prosperity.” “I hear and obey,” said the young man. Then the old man said, “I have one condition to impose upon you.” “What is your condition, uncle?” “My son, you must keep our affairs secret, whatever you may see of us. And if you see us weeping, you must not ask why we weep.” “Yes, uncle,” the young man replied. “Then come with me, my son,” said the old man, “with the blessing of God Most High.” The youth rose and followed him until they reached the bathhouse. The old man took him inside and had the grime and roughness washed from his body, then sent a man to bring him a handsome suit of clothes. He dressed him in it and took him home to his companions. On entering, the young man found a lofty, solidly built house, spacious with facing reception rooms and great halls. In every hall was a fountain with birds singing above it, and windows on every side overlooked a lovely garden within the house. The old man led him into one of the reception rooms, which he found adorned with colored marble. Its ceiling was patterned in lapis lazuli and gleaming gold, and its floors were spread with silken carpets. There he saw ten old men seated facing one another, dressed in mourning clothes, weeping and sobbing. The youth marveled at their condition and was about to question the old man, but he remembered the condition and held his tongue.
Then the old man handed the young man a chest containing thirty thousand dinars and said, “My son, spend from this chest on our needs and your own, in a reasonable manner. You are our trusted steward, so guard what I have entrusted to you.” “I hear and obey,” replied the youth. For many days and nights he continued to provide for them. Then one of them died, and his companions washed him, shrouded him, and buried him in a garden behind the house. Death continued to take them one by one until only the old man who had hired the youth remained. He and the young man lived alone in the house, with no third person to share it, and they remained so for several years. At last the old man fell ill. When the youth despaired of his recovery, he came to him in sorrow and said, “Uncle, I have served you all for twelve years, never neglecting your service for a single hour, but faithfully tending you with all my strength and ability.” “Yes, my son,” the old man replied, “you served us until these elders departed to God, mighty and glorious. We must all die.” “My master,” said the youth, “your life is in danger, and I wish you to tell me why you all wept, and why your sobbing, grief, and regret never ceased.” “My son,” he answered, “you have no need of that knowledge. Do not burden me beyond what I can bear, for I have begged God Most High not to afflict anyone with my affliction. If you wish to escape what befell us, do not open that door.” He pointed to it and warned him against it. “But if you wish to suffer what we suffered, open it. Then you will understand the reason for what you saw of us, for you will repent when repentance can no longer avail you.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.
When it was the five hundred and eighty-ninth night,
She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the last of the ten old men said to the youth, “Beware of opening this door, lest you repent when repentance can no longer avail you.” Then his illness worsened and he died. The young man washed him with his own hands, shrouded him, and buried him beside his companions. He remained in that place, with all its contents left undisturbed, but he was troubled and could not stop pondering the old men’s plight. One day, as he reflected on the old man’s words and his warning not to open the door, it occurred to him to go and look at it. He rose and searched in that part of the house until he found a small door covered in spiders’ webs and secured with four locks of steel. At the sight of it he remembered the old man’s warning and turned away. For seven days his soul tempted him to open the door, and he resisted it. On the eighth day, however, his desire overcame him, and he said, “I must open that door and see what will befall me because of it. Nothing can turn aside the decree and destiny of God Most High, and nothing comes to pass save by His will.” So he rose, broke the locks, and opened the door. Beyond it he saw a narrow passage. He walked along it for some three hours, then emerged on the bank of a mighty river. Astonished, he began walking along the bank, looking to right and left. Suddenly a great eagle swooped down from the sky, seized him in its talons, and bore him aloft between heaven and earth until it reached an island in the midst of the sea. There it set him down and flew away, leaving the young man bewildered, with no idea where to go.
One day, as he sat there, the sail of a vessel appeared to him upon the sea like a star in the sky. His hopes fastened upon it, for perhaps it would bring his deliverance, and he watched it until it drew near. When it reached him, he saw a boat of ivory and ebony, with oars of sandalwood and aloeswood, all plated in gleaming gold. In it were ten maiden attendants, lovely as moons. When they saw him, they came ashore, kissed his hands, and said, “You are the king, the bridegroom.” Then a maiden approached him, radiant as the sun in a cloudless sky. In her hands she bore a silken kerchief containing royal robes and a golden crown set with many kinds of rubies. She dressed and crowned him, and they carried him in their arms to the boat, where he found a variety of richly colored silken carpets. Then they unfurled the sails and set out over the deep sea. The young man said: As I sailed with them, I thought it must be a dream, and I had no idea where they were taking me. When we neared the shore, I saw the land filled with armored troops whose number none but God, glorified and exalted, could know. They brought me five fine horses with saddles of gold set with pearls and precious gems. I chose one and mounted it, while the other four went beside me. As soon as I was mounted, banners and standards were unfurled above my head, drums were beaten, and cymbals clashed. The troops formed ranks to right and left, and I rode on, wondering, “Am I asleep or awake?” Still I rode, scarcely believing that this procession was truly mine, but thinking it all a confused dream, until we came in sight of a green meadow filled with palaces and gardens, trees and rivers, flowers and birds singing the praises of God, the One, the All-Subduing. While they were thus advancing, an army poured out from among the palaces and gardens like a descending torrent, filling the meadow. When they drew near me, the troops halted, and a king rode forward alone, with a few chosen attendants walking before him. As the king approached the youth, he dismounted. Seeing him dismount, the youth did likewise, and they greeted one another most graciously. Then they mounted their horses again, and the king said to the youth, “Come with me, for you are my guest.” The young man rode beside him, and they talked together as the ordered procession advanced before them to the king’s palace. There they dismounted and all entered together. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.
When it was the five hundred and ninetieth night,
She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the king took the young man with him in the procession until they entered the palace, hand in hand. Then the king seated him on a golden chair and sat beside him. When the king lifted the veil from his face, behold, it was a maiden, radiant as the sun in a cloudless sky, endowed with beauty and loveliness, splendor and perfection, wondrous charm and grace. The young man beheld a great blessing and boundless happiness, and marveled at her beauty. Then she said to him, “Know, O King, that I am the queen of this land. All the troops you have seen, and everyone you saw on horseback or on foot, are women; there is not a man among them. In our land, the men plow, sow, and reap. They cultivate the soil, build our towns, and practice all the trades that serve the people’s needs. The women are the rulers, the holders of office, and the soldiers.” The young man was utterly astonished. Just then the vizier entered, and behold, she was a gray-haired old woman, modestly dressed and full of dignity and gravitas. The queen said to her, “Bring us the judge and the witnesses.” The old woman went to fetch them, while the queen turned to the youth, chatting companionably with him and easing his uneasiness with gentle words. Then she asked him, “Will you accept me as your wife?” He rose to kiss the ground before her, but she prevented him. “My lady,” he said, “I am beneath the servants who attend you.” “Do you see all these servants and soldiers,” she asked, “and all this wealth, these treasuries and treasures?” “Yes,” he replied. “All of it is at your disposal,” she said. “You may give and bestow whatever you please.” Then she pointed to a closed door and said, “You may do as you will with everything except this door. Do not open it, for if you do, you will repent when repentance can no longer avail you.” Scarcely had she finished speaking when the vizier returned with the judge and the witnesses. They were all elderly women, with their hair loose upon their shoulders, and all possessed dignity and gravitas. He said: When they stood before the queen, she ordered them to draw up the marriage contract. They married her to the youth, and she gave feasts and assembled the troops. When they had eaten and drunk, the young man went in to her and found her an untouched virgin. He took her maidenhead and lived with her for seven years in the sweetest, most abundant, happiest, and most delightful life.
One day he remembered the matter of opening the door and said to himself, “She would not have forbidden it to me unless there were magnificent treasures inside, finer than any I have seen.” He rose and opened it, and there within was the bird that had carried him from the seashore and set him down on the island. When the bird saw him, it said, “No welcome to a face that will never prosper!” At the sight of it and the sound of its words, the young man fled. But the bird pursued him, snatched him up, and bore him between heaven and earth for an hour’s flight, then set him down in the place from which it had first carried him away and vanished. He sat where it had left him. When he recovered his senses, he remembered the prosperity, might, and honor he had enjoyed, the troops riding before him, and the authority he had wielded. He began to weep and sob, and remained for two months on the seashore where the bird had left him, longing to return to his wife.
One night, as he lay awake, sorrowful and lost in thought, he heard a voice calling, though he could see no one: “How great were those delights! Alas, alas! What has passed will never return to you, so multiply your lamentations!” When the young man heard this, he gave up all hope of seeing the queen again or recovering his former happiness. He returned to the house where the old men had lived and understood that the same thing had happened to them. This was the cause of their weeping and grief, and now he understood and excused them. Overcome with sorrow and anguish, he entered that reception room and never ceased to weep and lament. He abandoned food and drink, sweet perfumes and laughter, until he died, and they buried him beside the old men. Know, then, O King, that haste is not to be praised, for it brings only regret. This is the counsel I offer you. When the king heard these words, he took their lesson to heart and accepted the advice, abandoning his intention to kill his son. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.
When it was the five hundred and ninety-first night,
She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when the king heard the vizier’s tale, he abandoned his intention to kill his son. On the sixth day, the slave-girl came before the king with a drawn knife in her hand and said, “Know, my lord, that you have neither heeded my complaint nor upheld your rights and honor against those who have wronged me. They are your viziers, who claim that women are full of guile, cunning, and deceit, intending thereby to deprive me of my rights and keep the king from considering my claim. Now I shall prove to you that men are more cunning than women, through the tale of a king’s son who was alone with a merchant’s wife.” The king asked her, “And what happened between him and her?”
