Prevod

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when Janshah and his mamluks rushed upon the gazelle to capture it, it fled from them and threw itself into the sea. There was a fishing boat upon those waters, and the gazelle leaped into it. Janshah and his mamluks dismounted and climbed aboard, where they caught the gazelle. They were about to return to shore when Janshah caught sight of a great island and said to the mamluks with him, “I wish us to go to that island.” “We hear and obey,” they replied. They steered the boat toward the island, and when they reached it, they went ashore and wandered about, looking at its sights. Then they returned to the boat and set off with the gazelle, making for the shore from which they had come. But evening overtook them, and they lost their way at sea. A wind arose and drove their boat into the open waters. They slept until morning, then awoke with no knowledge of the way, and continued drifting upon the sea.

So much for them. As for King Tayghmus, Janshah’s father, he looked for his son and could not find him, so he ordered his soldiers to divide into parties and take different roads. They went about searching for King Tayghmus’s son, and one party came to the seashore, where they found the mamluk who had been left with the horses. They approached him and asked after his master and the six mamluks, and he told them what had happened. They took the mamluk and the horses back to the king and gave him the news. When the king heard it, he wept bitterly, cast the crown from his head, and bit his hands in remorse. At once he rose, wrote letters, and sent them to the islands of the sea. He assembled a hundred ships, put soldiers aboard them, and ordered them to scour the sea in search of his son Janshah. Then the king took the rest of his soldiers and armies and returned to the city, overcome with grief. When Janshah’s mother learned what had happened, she beat her face and held mourning rites for him.

So much for them. As for Janshah and the mamluks with him, they continued to wander lost upon the sea. The search parties spent ten days looking for them upon the waters, but found no trace of them, and returned to tell the king. Meanwhile, a tempestuous wind struck Janshah and his companions and drove their boat to an island. Janshah and the six mamluks went ashore and walked about until they came to a flowing spring in the middle of the island. A little way from the spring they saw a man sitting, and went up and greeted him. He returned their greeting, then spoke to them in a voice like the chirping of young birds. Janshah marveled to hear him. The man glanced to right and left, and while they were still wondering at him, he split into two halves, each of which went off in a different direction. As they stood there, men of every kind, beyond all counting, came toward them from the mountain. They made their way to the spring, and each of them split into two halves. Then they advanced upon Janshah and the mamluks to devour them. Seeing their intent, Janshah fled, and the mamluks fled with him. The men pursued them and ate three of the mamluks, leaving three with Janshah.

Janshah boarded the boat with the three remaining mamluks, and they pushed out into the open sea. They traveled night and day, not knowing where the boat would carry them. They slaughtered the gazelle and lived on its flesh, until the winds swept them to another island. Looking toward it, they saw trees and rivers, fruits and gardens, with every kind of fruit growing there and streams running beneath the trees, as though it were Paradise itself. Janshah was delighted by the sight and said to the mamluks, “Which of you will go ashore and find out what this island holds?” One of them replied, “I will go and explore it for you, then return.” But Janshah said, “That will not do. All three of you must go ashore and explore the island, while I wait here in the boat until you return.” So Janshah sent the three mamluks to discover what the island held, and they went ashore. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and second night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when the three mamluks went ashore, they wandered east and west over the island but found no one. Then they made their way toward its center and saw in the distance a castle of white marble, with buildings of pure crystal. In the midst of the castle was a garden containing every kind of fruit, dried and fresh, beyond all description, and every fragrant plant. Within the castle they saw trees laden with fruit and birds warbling in their branches. There was also a great lake, beside which stood a spacious iwan furnished with chairs. In their midst stood a throne of red gold, studded with all manner of jewels and rubies. When the mamluks saw the beauty of the castle and garden, they searched the castle to right and left, but found no one. They left it and returned to Janshah, telling him all they had seen. When the prince heard their account, he said, “I must see this castle for myself.” He climbed out of the boat, and the mamluks went with him until they reached the castle and entered it. Janshah marveled at the beauty of the place. They wandered through the garden, admiring it and eating its fruit, until evening. When darkness fell, they went to the seats, and Janshah sat upon the throne in the middle, with the chairs ranged to his right and left. Seated there, he fell to thinking and weeping over his separation from his father’s throne, his country, his family, and his kin, and the three mamluks wept around him. While they were thus occupied, a mighty cry arose from the direction of the sea. They turned toward the sound and saw monkeys as numerous as swarming locusts. The castle and the island belonged to these monkeys. When they had seen the boat in which Janshah had come, they had sunk it by the shore, and now they approached him as he sat in the castle.

The Queen of the Serpents said, “All this, O Hasib, was part of the story the young man seated between the two graves told Buluqiya.” Hasib asked her, “And what did Janshah do with the monkeys after that?” The Queen of the Serpents replied: When Janshah had gone up and seated himself upon the throne, with the mamluks to his right and left, the monkeys came toward them and filled them with great fear and terror. Then a party of monkeys entered and advanced close to the throne where Janshah sat. They kissed the ground before him, laid their hands upon their breasts, and stood in his presence for a while. Afterward, another party arrived with gazelles, which they slaughtered and brought into the castle. They skinned them, cut up the meat, and roasted it until it was ready to eat, then laid it on trays of gold and silver. They spread the table and signed to Janshah and his companions to eat. Janshah descended from the throne and ate, and the monkeys and mamluks ate with him until all were satisfied. Then the monkeys cleared away the food and brought fruit. They ate of it and praised God Most High. Janshah then beckoned to the chief monkeys and asked, “What is your story? And to whom does this place belong?” The monkeys answered him by signs, “Know that this place belongs to our lord Solomon son of David, peace be upon them both. Once every year he would come here to enjoy its sights, then leave us again.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and third night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that the monkeys told Janshah about the castle, saying, “This place belonged to our lord Solomon son of David, who would come here every year to enjoy its sights, then leave us again.” Then they said to him, “Know, O king, that you have become our sovereign, and we are at your service. Eat and drink, and whatever you command, we shall do.” The monkeys rose, kissed the ground before him, and each went his way. Janshah slept upon the throne, while the mamluks slept on the chairs around him until morning. Then the four viziers who ruled over the monkeys came in with their armies, filling the place and standing around him in row after row. The viziers approached and signed to Janshah that he should judge justly among them. Then the monkeys called out to one another and dispersed, leaving a company before King Janshah to attend him. Afterward, monkeys arrived leading dogs shaped like horses, each with a chain about its head. Janshah marveled at these dogs and their enormous size. The monkey viziers signed to him to mount and go with them, so Janshah and his three mamluks mounted. The army of monkeys went with them, as thick as swarming locusts, some riding and some on foot, and he marveled at their ways. They traveled until they reached the seashore. When Janshah saw that the boat in which he had sailed had been sunk, he turned to his monkey viziers and asked, “Where is the boat that was here?” They replied, “Know, O king, that when you came to our island, we knew you would become our sovereign. We feared that when we approached you, you would flee from us and board the boat, so we sank it.”

When Janshah heard this, he turned to his mamluks and said, “We have no means left of escaping these monkeys. We must bear patiently what God Most High has decreed.” They continued on their way until they reached the bank of a river, beside which rose a lofty mountain. Janshah looked toward the mountain and saw many ghouls upon it. He turned to the monkeys and asked, “What of these ghouls?” They replied, “Know, O king, that these ghouls are our enemies, and we have come to fight them.” Janshah marveled at the ghouls and their huge bodies. They rode horses; some had heads like cattle, others like camels. When the ghouls saw the army of monkeys, they charged toward them and took up their positions on the riverbank, pelting them with stones like pillars. A great battle broke out between them. When Janshah saw the ghouls gaining the upper hand, he called to his mamluks, “Bring out your bows and arrows! Shoot them down and drive them back from us!” The mamluks obeyed, bringing great distress upon the ghouls and killing many of them, until they were routed and fled. When the monkeys saw what Janshah had done, they plunged into the river and crossed it, with Janshah among them. He pursued the ghouls until they disappeared from sight, defeated and leaving many dead behind them. Janshah and the monkeys continued until they reached a lofty mountain. Looking at it, Janshah found a marble tablet bearing this inscription: “Know, you who enter this land, that you shall become sovereign over these monkeys, and you cannot escape them unless you take the eastern road beside the mountain. That road is a journey of three months, among wild beasts, ghouls, rebellious demons, and ifrits, and at its end you will reach the ocean that encircles the world. Or you may take the western road, a journey of four months, at whose beginning lies the Valley of the Ants. When you reach that valley and enter it, beware of the ants until you come to a lofty mountain. That mountain blazes like fire, and it takes ten days to cross.” When Janshah saw the tablet… But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and fourth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when Janshah saw the tablet, he read what we have already related, and at the end he found these words: “Then you will reach a mighty flowing river, whose current is so fierce that it dazzles the eyes. Every Saturday this river runs dry. Beside it is a city whose people are all Jews and deny the faith of Muhammad; there is not a single Muslim among them. There is no other city in this land. So long as you remain with the monkeys, they shall prevail over the ghouls. Know that this tablet was written by the lord Solomon son of David, peace be upon them both.” When Janshah had read it, he wept bitterly. Then he turned to his mamluks and told them what was written upon the tablet. Afterward he mounted, and the armies of the monkeys mounted around him, rejoicing in their victory over their enemies, and they returned to their castle. Janshah remained there as sovereign over the monkeys for a year and a half. Then he ordered their armies to ride out to hunt and chase game. They mounted, and Janshah and his mamluks rode with them through wilderness and waste, traveling from place to place until he recognized the Valley of the Ants and saw the landmark described on the marble tablet. He ordered them to make camp there, and they dismounted, together with the armies of the monkeys, and spent ten days eating and drinking. Then one night Janshah took his mamluks aside and said, “I wish us to flee to the Valley of the Ants and make our way to the city of the Jews. Perhaps God will deliver us from these monkeys, and we may go our way.” They replied, “We hear and obey.”

He waited until a little of the night had passed, then rose, and the mamluks rose with him. They armed themselves, girding their waists with swords, daggers, and other weapons of war. Janshah and his mamluks slipped away and traveled from early night until morning. When the monkeys awoke and could find neither Janshah nor his mamluks, they knew they had fled. One party mounted and took the eastern road, while another rode toward the Valley of the Ants. As the monkeys traveled, they caught sight of Janshah and the mamluks approaching the valley and hastened after them. When Janshah saw them, he fled, and the mamluks fled with him into the Valley of the Ants. Within an hour the monkeys charged upon them, intending to kill Janshah and his companions. But suddenly ants poured out from beneath the earth like swarming locusts, each ant as large as a dog. At the sight of the monkeys, they attacked and devoured a number of them. Many ants were also killed, but the ants gained the upper hand. An ant would come up to a monkey and strike it, splitting it in two, while ten monkeys would leap upon a single ant, seize it, and tear it in half. A mighty battle raged between them until evening. When darkness fell, Janshah and the mamluks fled along the floor of the valley. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and fifth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when evening came, Janshah and his mamluks fled along the floor of the valley until morning. At daybreak the monkeys came toward Janshah. When he saw them, he cried to his mamluks, “Strike them with your swords!” The mamluks drew their swords and began striking the monkeys to right and left. Then a great monkey with tusks like an elephant’s advanced upon one of the mamluks and struck him, splitting him in two. The monkeys swarmed upon Janshah, and he fled to the lower end of the valley, where he saw a mighty river with enormous ants beside it. When the ants saw him coming toward them, they surrounded him. One of the mamluks struck an ant with his sword and cut it in two. Seeing this, the armies of ants swarmed over the mamluk and killed him. While this was happening, the monkeys came down from the mountain and crowded upon Janshah. Seeing them rush toward him, he stripped off his clothes and plunged into the river. His one remaining mamluk entered with him, and they swam out into midstream. Then Janshah saw a tree on the opposite bank. He stretched out his hand, caught one of its branches, and clung to it until he climbed ashore. As for the mamluk, the current overpowered him and swept him away, dashing him to pieces against the mountain. Janshah stood alone on the bank, wringing out his clothes and drying them in the sun. A fierce battle broke out between the monkeys and the ants, after which the monkeys returned to their own country.

So much for the monkeys and the ants. As for Janshah, he wept until evening, then took shelter in a cave, filled with terror and desolate at the loss of his mamluks. He slept in the cave until morning, then set out and traveled for nights and days, eating wild herbs, until he came to the mountain that blazed like fire. He journeyed across it until he reached the river that ran dry every Saturday. He found it to be a mighty river, with a great city beside it: the city of the Jews of which he had read on the tablet. He stayed there until Saturday came and the river dried up, then crossed its bed and reached the city. He saw no one there, and walked on until he came to the door of a house. He opened it and entered, finding its people sitting silent, without speaking a word. “I am a hungry stranger,” he told them. They answered him by signs, “Eat and drink, but do not speak.” He sat with them, ate and drank, and spent the night there. In the morning the master of the house greeted and welcomed him, asking, “Where have you come from, and where are you going?” When Janshah heard the Jew speak, he wept bitterly and told him his story, naming his father’s city. The Jew marveled and said, “We have never heard of that city. But from the merchant caravans we have heard of a country called Yemen.” Janshah said to him, “That country the merchants speak of is not far from this place.” The Jew replied, “The merchants of those caravans say their journey from their own country to this one takes two years and three months.” Janshah asked, “When will the caravan come?” “Next year,” he replied. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and sixth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when Janshah asked the Jew when the caravan would come, he answered, “Next year.” At these words Janshah wept bitterly, grieving for himself and his mamluks, for his separation from his mother and father, and for all that had befallen him on his journey. The Jew said to him, “Do not weep, young man. Stay with us until the caravan comes, and we shall send you home with it.” Janshah remained with the Jew for two months, going out every day to wander through the lanes and see the city. One day, as he was walking about its streets as usual, he heard a man crying, “Who will take a thousand dinars and a beautiful slave girl of surpassing loveliness to do a task for me from morning until noon?” No one answered him. When Janshah heard the crier’s words, he thought, “If this task were not dangerous, his master would never offer a thousand dinars and a beautiful slave girl for work lasting only from morning until noon.” Then he went up to the crier and said, “I will do this work.” The crier took him to a tall house, and they went inside. Janshah found it a magnificent dwelling, and there he saw a Jewish merchant seated upon a chair of ebony. The crier stood before him and said, “O merchant, for three months I have been crying through the city, and no one has answered me except this young man.” Hearing this, the merchant welcomed Janshah and led him into a splendid room. He signed to his slaves to bring food, and they spread the table with all manner of dishes. The merchant and Janshah ate and washed their hands, then drinks were brought, and they drank. Afterward the merchant rose and brought Janshah a purse containing a thousand dinars and a slave girl of exquisite beauty. “Take this girl and this money,” he said, “in payment for the work you are to do.” Janshah accepted the girl and the money and seated her beside him. The merchant said, “Tomorrow you shall do the work for us.”

Then the merchant left him, and Janshah spent that night with the girl. In the morning he went to the bathhouse. The merchant ordered his slaves to bring him a suit of silk, and they brought a splendid one. They waited until he came out of the bath, dressed him in it, and brought him back to the house. The merchant ordered his slaves to bring a harp, a lute, and drink. These were brought, and the two men drank, amused themselves, and laughed until half the night had passed. Then the merchant went to his women’s quarters, and Janshah slept with the girl until morning. He went to the bathhouse again, and on his return the merchant came to him and said, “I wish you to do the work for us now.” “I hear and obey,” replied Janshah. The merchant ordered his slaves to bring two mules. He mounted one and told Janshah to mount the other, which he did. They rode from morning until noon, when they reached a mountain of seemingly boundless height. The merchant dismounted and told Janshah to do the same. Then he handed him a knife and a rope and said, “I want you to slaughter this mule.” Janshah tucked up his clothes, went to the mule, bound its four legs with the rope, and threw it to the ground. He took the knife, slaughtered it, skinned it, and cut off its legs and head, leaving a heap of flesh. The merchant said to him, “Now slit open its belly and climb inside. I shall sew it up around you, and you must stay there for an hour. Whatever you see while you are inside, tell me.” Janshah slit open the mule’s belly and climbed in. The merchant sewed it up around him, then left him and withdrew. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and seventh night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when the merchant had sewn Janshah inside the mule’s belly, he left him and hid at the foot of the mountain. An hour later a mighty bird swooped down upon the mule, snatched it up, and flew away. It set the carcass down on the mountaintop and was about to eat it, when Janshah, sensing the bird’s presence, slit open the mule’s belly and emerged. The bird took fright at the sight of him and flew away. Janshah rose to his feet and looked to right and left. He saw no one but dead men, their bodies shriveled by the sun. At the sight he said to himself, “There is no power and no might save in God, the Most High, the Almighty.” Then he looked down and saw the merchant standing at the foot of the mountain, gazing up at him. When the merchant saw him, he called, “Throw me some of the stones around you, and I shall show you a path down.” Janshah threw him some two hundred stones, which were rubies, chrysolites, and precious gems. Then he called to the merchant, “Show me the path, and I shall throw you more.” But the merchant gathered the stones, loaded them onto the mule he had ridden, and went away without answering. Left alone upon the mountain, Janshah began to weep and cry for help. He remained there for three days, then rose and wandered over the mountain for two months, living on its wild herbs. At last he came to its edge, and as he approached the lower slopes, he saw a valley in the distance, filled with trees, fruit, and birds praising God, the One, the All-Subduing.

Janshah rejoiced greatly at the sight of the valley and made toward it. After walking for an hour, he came to a cleft in the mountain down which torrents flowed. He descended through it and continued until he reached the valley he had seen from above. Once there, he wandered about, looking to right and left, until he came to a lofty palace soaring into the air. He approached its gate and saw a venerable man of pleasing appearance, whose face shone with light. He stood at the palace gate holding a staff of ruby. Janshah drew near and greeted him. The old man returned his greeting and welcomed him, saying, “Sit down, my son.” Janshah sat at the palace gate, and the old man asked, “From where have you come to this land, where no son of Adam has ever set foot? And where are you going?” At these words Janshah wept bitterly over all he had suffered, until his sobs choked him. The old man said, “My son, stop weeping, for you have grieved my heart.” Then he rose and brought him some food, set it before him, and said, “Eat this.” Janshah ate his fill and praised God Most High. Afterward the old man said, “My son, I wish you to tell me your story and all that has befallen you.” Janshah related his tale and everything that had happened to him, from the beginning until his arrival there. The old man listened in great astonishment. Then Janshah said, “I would like you to tell me who owns this valley, and to whom this magnificent palace belongs.” The old man replied, “Know, my son, that this valley and all within it, and this palace and all it contains, belong to the lord Solomon son of David, peace be upon them both. My name is Sheikh Nasr, King of the Birds, and the lord Solomon has entrusted this palace to my care.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and eighth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Sheikh Nasr, King of the Birds, said to Janshah, “Know that the lord Solomon entrusted this palace to my care, taught me the language of the birds, and made me ruler over all the birds in the world. Every year they come to this palace, and I inspect them before they depart. That is why I remain in this place.” When Janshah heard Sheikh Nasr’s words, he wept bitterly and said, “My father, how can I find a way back to my own country?” The sheikh replied, “Know, my son, that you are near Mount Qaf. There is no way for you to leave this place until the birds arrive, when I can entrust you to one of them to carry you home. Stay here with me, eat and drink, and enjoy the chambers of this palace until the birds come.” Janshah stayed with the sheikh, wandering through the valley, eating its fruit, enjoying its sights, laughing, and amusing himself. He lived in this most pleasant fashion for some time, until the day drew near when the birds would come from their homes to visit Sheikh Nasr. When the sheikh learned of their approach, he rose and said to Janshah, “Janshah, take these keys. Open the chambers of this palace and look at everything within them, except for this one particular chamber. Beware of opening it. If you disobey me, open it, and go inside, no good will ever come to you.” He gave Janshah this warning and impressed it firmly upon him, then left to meet the birds. When they saw Sheikh Nasr, they came forward, species after species, and kissed his hands.

So much for Sheikh Nasr. As for Janshah, he rose and wandered through the palace, looking to right and left. He opened all its chambers until he came to the one the sheikh had forbidden him to open. He admired its door and saw that it bore a lock of gold. He said to himself, “This chamber is finer than all the others in the palace. I wonder what it contains, that Sheikh Nasr should forbid me to enter it? I must go in and see what is there. Whatever is decreed for a man must surely come to pass.” He stretched out his hand, opened the chamber, and entered. Within it he saw a great lake, beside which stood a little palace built of gold, silver, and crystal. Its windows were of ruby, and its paving was of green chrysolite, spinel, emerald, and other gems, set into the floor like marble. In the center of the palace stood a golden fountain filled with water, surrounded by figures of wild beasts and birds fashioned from gold and silver, with water flowing from their bellies. When a breeze blew into their ears, each figure sang in its own tongue. Beside the fountain was a spacious iwan, upon which stood a great throne of ruby inlaid with pearls and jewels. Over the throne was pitched a pavilion of green silk, fifty cubits across, embroidered with gemstones and precious metals. Within the pavilion was an inner alcove containing the carpet that had belonged to the lord Solomon, peace be upon him. Around the palace Janshah saw a great garden filled with trees, fruit, and rivers. Beds of roses, basil, wild roses, and every fragrant plant encircled the palace. When the wind blew through the trees, their branches swayed. In the garden he saw trees of every kind, bearing fruits both fresh and dried, and all of this lay within that chamber. Janshah was filled with the utmost wonder. He wandered through the garden and palace, gazing at their marvels and wonders. Looking into the lake, he saw that its pebbles were precious stones, costly jewels, and splendid minerals. Many were the things he saw within that chamber. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and ninth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Janshah saw many things within that chamber and marveled at them. He walked on until he entered the palace within it, mounted the throne that stood in the iwan beside the fountain, and went into the pavilion pitched above it. There he slept for a while. On waking, he rose and walked out through the palace door, then sat upon a chair before it, marveling at the beauty of the place.

While he sat there, three birds shaped like doves came flying through the air toward him. They alighted beside the lake and played for a while, then cast off their feathers and became three maidens as lovely as moons, with none in the world to equal them. They went down into the lake and swam, laughing and playing. Janshah gazed in wonder at their loveliness, their beauty, and their graceful figures. Then they came ashore and wandered through the garden, admiring its sights. When Janshah saw them step out of the water, he nearly lost his reason. He rose and walked toward them, and when he drew near, he greeted them. They returned his greeting, and he asked, “Who are you, noble ladies, and from where have you come?” The youngest replied, “We have come from the dominion of God Most High to enjoy the sights of this place.” Marveling at their beauty, he said to the youngest, “Have mercy on me, be tender toward me, and pity my plight and all that I have suffered in my life.” She answered, “Leave off such talk.” At these words Janshah wept bitterly, heaving deep sighs, and recited these verses:

She appeared to me in the garden, clad in green, her buttons undone, her hair unbound. “What is your name?” I asked. She said, “I am she who has seared lovers’ hearts upon my lap.” I told her what I had suffered from love, and she replied, “You have complained to a rock without knowing it.” “If your heart is a rock,” I said, “God has made sweet water gush from stone.” When the maidens heard these verses from Janshah, they laughed and played, sang and made merry. Then Janshah brought them some fruit, and they ate and drank, and slept with him that night until morning. When morning came, the maidens put on their feather robes, took the form of doves, and flew away. When Janshah saw them fly off and vanish from his sight, his wits almost flew away with them. He gave a great cry and fell senseless, remaining unconscious all that day. While he lay upon the ground, Sheikh Nasr returned from meeting the birds and looked for Janshah, intending to send him home with them. When he could not find him, he knew that he had entered the pavilion. Sheikh Nasr had told the birds, “I have with me a young lad whom fate has brought to this land from a distant country, and I wish you to carry him back to his own land.” They had replied, “We hear and obey.” Sheikh Nasr continued searching for Janshah until he came to the door of the pavilion he had forbidden him to open. Finding it open, he went in and saw Janshah lying unconscious beneath a tree. He brought some scented water and sprinkled it on his face, whereupon he revived and began looking about him. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and tenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Sheikh Nasr saw Janshah lying beneath a tree, he brought some scented water and sprinkled it on his face. Janshah revived and began looking to right and left, but saw no one beside him except Sheikh Nasr. His anguish increased, and he recited these verses:

She appeared like the full moon on a fortunate night, with tender limbs and a slender, graceful form. Her eyes enchant and steal the mind; her mouth is ruby-red as roses. Her black hair tumbles down over her hips: beware, beware the serpents of those curls! Her waist is supple, yet her heart is harder toward her lover than solid stone. From the bow of her eyebrow she looses the arrow of her glance, which strikes and never misses, though shot from afar. How lovely she is, surpassing every beauty! Among all creatures she has no equal. When Sheikh Nasr heard these verses from Janshah, he said, “My son, did I not tell you not to open this pavilion or enter it? But tell me, my son, what you saw within. Relate your story and let me know what happened to you.” So Janshah sat and told him his story and all that had passed between him and the three maidens. When Sheikh Nasr heard his account, he said, “Know, my son, that these maidens are daughters of the jinn. Every year they come to this place and play and take their pleasure until the afternoon, then return to their own country.” “And where is their country?” Janshah asked. Sheikh Nasr replied, “By God, my son, I do not know where their country lies.” Then he said, “Come with me and take heart, so that I may send you home with the birds. Put this love out of your mind.” When Janshah heard Sheikh Nasr’s words, he gave a mighty cry and fell senseless. Upon reviving, he said, “Father, I will not return to my country until I meet these maidens again. Know, Father, that I no longer think of my family, even if I should die here before you.” Then he wept and said, “I would be content to see the face of the one I love even once a year.” He heaved deep sighs and recited these verses:

Would that no beloved’s phantom ever visited a lover, and that love had never been created for mankind! Were it not for the fire your memory kindles in my heart, no tears would flow or stream upon my cheeks. By day and through the night I bid my heart be patient, while my body burns in the fire of love. Then Janshah fell at Sheikh Nasr’s feet and kissed them, weeping bitterly. “Have mercy on me,” he said, “and may God have mercy on you! Help me in my affliction, and may God help you!” Sheikh Nasr replied, “My son, by God, I do not know these maidens, nor do I know where their country lies. But since you are so enamored of one of them, remain with me until this time next year, for they will return on this same day. When the time of their coming draws near, hide beneath a tree in the garden. When they go down into the lake to swim and play, and stray far from their clothes, take the robe of the one you desire. When they see you, they will come ashore to put on their robes, and the one whose robe you have taken will say to you, with sweet words and a lovely smile, ‘Give me my robe, brother, so that I may put it on and cover myself.’ If you yield to her words and give her the robe, you will never attain your desire: she will put it on and return to her family, and you will never see her again. Once you have secured her robe, keep it tucked beneath your arm, and do not give it to her until I return from meeting the birds. Then I will bring you together and send you to your country with her. That, my son, is all I can do.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and eleventh night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that Sheikh Nasr said to Janshah, “Keep the robe of the one you desire, and do not give it to her until I return from meeting the birds. That, my son, is all I can do.” When Janshah heard Sheikh Nasr’s words, his heart grew calm. He stayed with him until the following year, counting the days that must pass before the birds returned. When the time of their coming arrived, Sheikh Nasr went to Janshah and said, “Follow the counsel I gave you concerning the maidens’ robes, for I am going to meet the birds.” Janshah replied, “I hear and obey your command, Father.” Sheikh Nasr went off to meet the birds, and after he had left, Janshah rose and walked into the garden. He hid beneath a tree where no one could see him, and waited through the first day, the second, and the third, but the maidens did not come. He grew anxious and began to weep and moan from the depths of his sorrowing heart. He wept until he fainted; then, after a while, he revived and began looking now at the sky, now at the ground, now at the lake, and now at the shore, his heart trembling with the violence of his love. While he was in this state, three birds appeared in the air, shaped like doves, though each was as large as an eagle. They alighted beside the lake and looked to right and left. Seeing neither human nor jinni, they took off their robes and entered the lake, where they began to play and laugh and take their pleasure, their naked bodies like ingots of silver. Then the eldest said, “Sisters, I fear someone may be hiding from us in this palace.” The middle sister replied, “Sister, since the days of Solomon, neither human nor jinni has entered this palace.” The youngest laughed and said, “By God, sisters, if anyone is hiding here, I am the only one he will take.”

They went on playing and laughing, while Janshah’s heart trembled with passion as he watched them from beneath the tree, unseen by them. Then they swam out into the middle of the lake, far from their robes. Janshah sprang to his feet and ran like a flash of lightning, seizing the robe of the youngest maiden, the one to whom his heart had become attached. Her name was Shamsa. When she turned and saw Janshah, their hearts quaked, and they hid themselves in the water and drew near the shore. Then they looked at Janshah’s face and saw that he was like the moon on the night of its fullness. “Who are you?” they asked. “How did you come to this place, and why have you taken Lady Shamsa’s robe?” He replied, “Come here to me, and I will tell you what has happened to me.” Lady Shamsa said, “What is your story? Why have you taken my robe? How did you distinguish me from my sisters?” Janshah answered, “Light of my eyes, come out of the water, and I will tell you my story and all that has befallen me, and explain how I knew you.” She said, “My lord, delight of my eyes and fruit of my heart, give me my robe so that I may put it on, cover myself, and come out to you.” Janshah replied, “Mistress of all beauties, I cannot give you your robe and so kill myself with longing. I will not give it to you until Sheikh Nasr, King of the Birds, returns.” When Lady Shamsa heard Janshah’s words, she said, “If you will not give me my robe, then withdraw a little way, so that my sisters may come ashore, dress, and give me something to cover myself.” Janshah replied, “I hear and obey.” He walked away from them and entered the palace. Then Lady Shamsa and her sisters came ashore, and her sisters put on their robes.

Lady Shamsa’s eldest sister gave her one of her own garments, in which she could not fly, and dressed her in it. Then Lady Shamsa rose, lovely as the rising moon and a grazing gazelle, and walked over to Janshah. Finding him seated upon the couch, she greeted him, sat down near him, and said, “Fair-faced one, you have brought death upon yourself and me. But tell us what has happened to you, so that we may learn your story.” When Janshah heard Lady Shamsa’s words, he wept until his tears soaked his clothes. Realizing how deeply he loved her, she rose, took him by the hand, and seated him beside her. She wiped his tears with her sleeve and said, “Fair-faced one, cease your weeping and tell me what has happened to you.” So Janshah related his adventures and told her all that he had seen. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and twelfth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that Lady Shamsa said to Janshah, “Tell me what has happened to you.” He told her everything that had befallen him. When she heard his story, she sighed and said, “My lord, if you love me, give me my robe so that I may put it on and return with my sisters to my family. I will tell them what you have suffered for love of me, then return to you and carry you to your country.” When Janshah heard these words, he wept bitterly and said, “Does God permit you to kill me unjustly?” “My lord,” she asked, “how should I be killing you unjustly?” He replied, “Because the moment you put on your robe and leave me, I shall die.” Lady Shamsa and her sisters laughed at his words, and she said, “Be at ease and let your eyes be glad, for I shall certainly marry you.” She leaned toward him, embraced him, pressed him to her breast, and kissed him between the eyes and on the cheek. They remained in one another’s arms for a while, then parted and sat upon the couch. Her eldest sister rose, went out of the palace into the garden, and brought back fruit and fragrant flowers. They ate and drank, delighted in one another’s company, laughed and played. Janshah was wondrously handsome, slender and well proportioned, and Lady Shamsa said to him, “Beloved, by God, I love you dearly and shall never leave you.” When Janshah heard her words, his heart expanded with joy and his face broke into a smile, and they continued laughing and playing.

While they were enjoying this happiness, Sheikh Nasr returned from meeting the birds. As he approached, they all rose to their feet, greeted him, and kissed his hands. Sheikh Nasr welcomed them and said, “Sit down.” They sat, and he said to Lady Shamsa, “This young man loves you dearly, so I beseech you by God to treat him kindly. He is of noble birth, a king’s son: his father rules the land of Kabul and possesses a mighty kingdom.” When Lady Shamsa heard Sheikh Nasr’s words, she replied, “I hear and obey your command.” Then she kissed his hands and stood before him. Sheikh Nasr said to her, “If you speak truly, swear to me by God that you will never betray him as long as you live.” She swore a solemn oath that she would never betray him and would certainly marry him. After taking the oath, she said, “Know, Sheikh Nasr, that I shall never leave him.” Sheikh Nasr believed her oath and said to Janshah, “Praise be to God, who has brought you together.” Janshah rejoiced exceedingly. He and Lady Shamsa stayed with Sheikh Nasr for three months, eating and drinking, playing and laughing. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and thirteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that Janshah and Lady Shamsa stayed with Sheikh Nasr for three months, eating and drinking, playing and enjoying great happiness. After the three months, Lady Shamsa said to Janshah, “I wish us to go to your country, where you may marry me and we may settle.” He replied, “I hear and obey.” Then Janshah consulted Sheikh Nasr and said, “We wish to go to my country,” and told him what Lady Shamsa had said. Sheikh Nasr told them, “Go to your country, and take good care of her.” Janshah replied, “I hear and obey.” Then she asked for her robe, saying, “Sheikh Nasr, bid him give me my robe so that I may put it on.” He said, “Janshah, give her her robe.” “I hear and obey,” he replied. He rose quickly, entered the palace, fetched her robe, and gave it to her. She took it and put it on, then said to Janshah, “Climb onto my back, close your eyes, and stop your ears so that you do not hear the roar of the revolving heavens. Hold fast to my feather robe with both hands while you are on my back, and take care not to fall.”

When Janshah heard her words, he climbed onto her back. As she was about to take flight, Sheikh Nasr said, “Wait, so that I may describe the land of Kabul to you, for I fear you may lose your way.” She waited while he described the country to her and charged her to take care of Janshah. Then he bade them farewell. Lady Shamsa took leave of her sisters, saying, “Return to your family and tell them what has passed between Janshah and me.” At once she flew up into the air, swift as a gust of wind or a flash of lightning. Afterward her sisters took flight and returned to their family, telling them what had happened between Lady Shamsa and Janshah. From the moment Lady Shamsa took wing, she flew on from midmorning until the afternoon, with Janshah riding on her back. In the afternoon she spied in the distance a valley full of trees and streams, and said to Janshah, “I should like us to alight in this valley and spend the night enjoying its trees and plants.” Janshah replied, “Do as you wish.” She descended from the sky and alighted in the valley. Janshah dismounted and kissed her between the eyes. They sat beside a stream for a while, then rose and wandered through the valley, admiring its sights and eating its fruit. They continued exploring until evening, then came to a tree and slept beneath it until morning. Lady Shamsa rose and told Janshah to mount her back. “I hear and obey,” he said. He climbed onto her back, and she flew off at once, continuing from morning until noon.

As they traveled, they saw the landmarks Sheikh Nasr had described. When Lady Shamsa recognized them, she descended from the heights of the sky into a spacious meadow, lush with plants, where gazelles grazed, springs bubbled, fruits ripened, and broad rivers flowed. When she alighted in the meadow, Janshah dismounted and kissed her between the eyes. She said, “My beloved, delight of my eyes, do you know how far we have traveled?” “No,” he replied. “A journey of thirty months,” she said. Janshah answered, “Praise be to God for our safe arrival.” He sat down, and she sat beside him, and they ate and drank, laughed and played. While they were thus occupied, two mamluks approached. One was the man who had been with the horses when Janshah boarded the fisherman’s boat; the other was one of those who had accompanied him on the hunt. When they saw Janshah, they recognized him, greeted him, and said, “With your permission, we shall go to your father and give him the glad news of your return.” Janshah replied, “Go to my father and tell him, and bring us tents. We shall remain here seven days to rest, until the procession comes to meet us and we may enter the city in great state.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and fourteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that Janshah said to the two mamluks, “Go to my father and tell him of my return, and bring us tents. We shall remain here seven days to rest, until the procession comes to meet us and we may enter the city in great state.” The two mamluks mounted their horses and went to his father, saying, “Glad tidings, King of the Age!” When King Tayghmus heard their words, he asked, “What glad tidings do you bring me? Has my son Janshah returned?” They replied, “Yes, your son Janshah has returned from his absence and is near at hand, in the meadow of al-Karani.” When the king heard their words, he rejoiced so greatly that he fell senseless from excess of joy. Upon reviving, he ordered his vizier to bestow a splendid robe of honor and a sum of money upon each mamluk. The vizier replied, “I hear and obey.” He rose at once and gave the two mamluks what the king had commanded, saying, “Take this money in return for the glad tidings you have brought, whether you have spoken falsely or truly.” The two mamluks replied, “We have not lied. Only just now we were sitting with him; we greeted him and kissed his hands. He ordered us to bring him tents, and he will remain in the meadow of al-Karani for seven days, until the emirs, viziers, and great officers of state go out to meet him.” Then the king asked, “How is my son?” They replied, “Your son has with him a maiden like a houri, as though he had brought her out of Paradise.” When the king heard this, he ordered the cymbals and trumpets to be sounded. The music of rejoicing rang out, and King Tayghmus sent heralds throughout the city to bring the glad news to Janshah’s mother and the wives of the emirs, viziers, and great officers of state. The heralds spread through the city and told its people of Janshah’s arrival. Then King Tayghmus mustered his troops and armies and set out for the meadow of al-Karani.

As Janshah sat with Lady Shamsa beside him, the troops came into view. He rose to his feet and walked toward them. When the soldiers saw him, they recognized him, dismounted, and came forward on foot to greet him and kiss his hands. Janshah continued on his way, with the soldiers passing before him one after another, until he reached his father. When King Tayghmus saw his son, he flung himself from his horse, embraced him, and wept bitterly. Then he and his son mounted, with the troops on their right and left, and rode on until they came to the riverbank. There the troops and armies dismounted and pitched tents and pavilions and raised the banners. Drums beat, pipes played, cymbals clashed, and trumpets blared. Then King Tayghmus ordered the tent attendants to bring a tent of red silk and pitch it for Lady Shamsa. They did as he commanded, and Lady Shamsa rose, took off her feather robe, walked to the tent, and sat within it. While she was sitting there, King Tayghmus approached with his son Janshah beside him. When she saw the king, she rose and kissed the ground before him. The king sat down, with his son Janshah on his right and Lady Shamsa on his left. He welcomed her, then said to Janshah, “Tell me what happened to you during your absence.” Janshah related everything that had happened from beginning to end. When the king heard his son’s story, he was filled with wonder. Turning to Lady Shamsa, he said, “Praise be to God, who guided you to reunite me with my son! This is indeed a great kindness.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and fifteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that King Tayghmus said to Lady Shamsa, “Praise be to God, who guided you to reunite me with my son! This is indeed a great kindness. Now I wish you to ask of me whatever you desire, so that I may grant it in your honor.” Lady Shamsa replied, “I ask you to build a palace in the midst of a garden, with water flowing beneath it.” He answered, “I hear and obey.” While they were speaking, Janshah’s mother arrived with all the wives of the emirs, viziers, and great men of the city. When Janshah saw her, he came out of the tent to meet her, and they embraced for a long while. Then his mother shed tears of joy and recited these two verses:

Joy swept over me so fiercely that the very excess of my delight made me weep. O eyes, tears have become your habit: you weep for gladness and for sorrow alike. Then they told one another what they had endured through separation and the anguish of longing. His father withdrew to his own tent, while Janshah and his mother went to his tent and sat talking together. As they sat there, messengers came to announce Lady Shamsa’s arrival, saying to Janshah’s mother, “Shamsa is coming to you on foot to offer her greetings.” When Janshah’s mother heard this, she rose, went to meet her, and greeted her. They sat together for a while; then Janshah’s mother rose with Lady Shamsa and walked with her and the wives of the emirs and officers of state until they reached Lady Shamsa’s tent, which they entered and sat within. King Tayghmus lavished gifts and favors upon his subjects, rejoicing greatly over his son. They remained in that place for ten days, eating and drinking and enjoying the happiest of lives. Then the king ordered his troops to break camp and return to the city. He mounted, with his troops and armies all around him, while the viziers and chamberlains rode on his right and left. They traveled on until they entered the city, and Janshah’s mother and Lady Shamsa went to their residence. The city was adorned with the finest decorations, and celebratory music and cymbals rang out. They embellished the city with jewels and rich garments and spread precious brocade beneath the horses’ hooves. The officers of state rejoiced and displayed their treasures, leaving the spectators dazzled. They fed the poor and needy and held great celebrations for ten days. Lady Shamsa was overjoyed at all she saw.

Then King Tayghmus summoned builders, architects, and skilled craftsmen and ordered them to build him a palace in that garden. They answered, “We hear and obey,” and set about its construction, completing it in the finest manner. When Janshah learned that the palace had been commissioned, he ordered the craftsmen to bring a column of white marble, hollow it out, and fashion it like a chest. They did as he commanded. Then Janshah took Lady Shamsa’s flying robe, placed it inside the column, and buried it in the palace foundations. He ordered the builders to construct above it the arches on which the palace rested. When the palace was finished, they furnished it, and it stood magnificent in the midst of the garden, with rivers flowing beneath it. Then King Tayghmus celebrated Janshah’s wedding with festivities beyond compare. Lady Shamsa was escorted to Janshah, and afterward everyone went their separate ways. When Lady Shamsa entered the palace, she caught the scent of her feather robe. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and sixteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Lady Shamsa entered the palace, she caught the scent of the feather robe in which she flew and knew where it lay. She wished to take it, but waited until midnight, when Janshah was deep asleep. Then she rose and went to the pillar supporting the arches. She dug beside it until she reached the column containing the robe, removed the lead that had been poured over it, took out the robe, and put it on. At once she flew up and alighted upon the roof of the palace. “Bring Janshah to me,” she said to the people there, “so that I may bid him farewell.” They told Janshah, and he went to her and saw her upon the palace roof, wearing her feather robe. “How could you do such a thing?” he asked. She replied, “My beloved, delight of my eyes and fruit of my heart, by God, I love you dearly. I was overjoyed to bring you safely to your own land and country and to see your mother and father. If you love me as I love you, come to me at the Castle of Jawhar Takni.” Then she flew away at once and returned to her family.

When Janshah heard Lady Shamsa’s words from the palace roof, he almost died of anguish and fell senseless. They went to his father and told him what had happened. His father mounted and rode to the palace, where he found his son lying upon the ground. King Tayghmus wept, knowing how deeply his son loved Lady Shamsa. He sprinkled rosewater upon his face, and Janshah revived. Seeing his father at his head, he wept over the loss of his wife. His father asked, “What has happened to you, my son?” He replied, “Know, Father, that Lady Shamsa is a daughter of the jinn. I love her and am consumed with passion for her beauty. I had a robe of hers without which she cannot fly. I took that robe and hid it in a column fashioned like a chest, sealed it with molten lead, and placed it in the palace foundations. She dug into the foundations, took it out, put it on, and flew away. Then she alighted on the palace roof and said, ‘I love you, and I have brought you to your own land and country, where you have been reunited with your father and mother. If you love me, come to me at the Castle of Jawhar Takni.’ Then she flew from the palace roof and went her way.” King Tayghmus said, “My son, do not grieve. We shall assemble the merchants and travelers who journey through the world and ask them about that castle. Once we learn where it is, we shall travel there and go to Lady Shamsa’s family. We pray to Almighty God that they will give her to you in marriage.”

The king went out at once and commanded his four viziers, saying, “Gather every merchant and traveler in the city, and ask them about the Castle of Jawhar Takni. Whoever knows it and can point the way shall receive fifty thousand dinars from me.” When the viziers heard this, they replied, “We hear and obey.” They went immediately and did as the king commanded, questioning the merchants and travelers about the Castle of Jawhar Takni, but no one could tell them anything of it. They returned to the king and informed him. Upon hearing their report, he at once ordered that his son Janshah be brought beautiful concubines, maidens skilled in playing instruments, and singing favorites such as are found only in the courts of kings, hoping they might distract him from his love for Lady Shamsa. They brought him what he requested. Then the king sent scouts and spies to every land, island, and province to inquire about the Castle of Jawhar Takni. They searched for two months, but no one could tell them anything of it, so they returned to the king and informed him. He wept bitterly and went to his son, whom he found sitting among the concubines, favorites, and maidens playing harps, dulcimers, and other instruments. Yet none could distract him from Lady Shamsa. His father said, “My son, I have found no one who knows this castle, and I have brought you women more beautiful than she.” When Janshah heard this, he wept, his eyes overflowing, and recited these two verses:

My patience has departed, but passion remains; from excess of love my body wastes away. When will the days reunite me with Shamsa, though the fire of separation has crumbled my bones to dust? Now there was great enmity between King Tayghmus and the King of India, for Tayghmus had attacked him, killed his men, and plundered his wealth. This King of India was called King Kafid, and he possessed armies, troops, and champions. He had a thousand mighty warriors, each ruling a thousand tribes, and each tribe comprising four thousand horsemen. He had four viziers, and beneath him served kings, great lords, emirs, and countless troops. He ruled a thousand cities, each with a thousand fortresses. He was a mighty king, terrible in battle, and his armies filled the land. When King Kafid of India learned that King Tayghmus had become wholly absorbed in his love for his son, neglecting his kingdom and its government, that his armies had dwindled, and that concern for his son had plunged him into grief and distress, he summoned his viziers, emirs, and officers of state and said, “Do you not know that King Tayghmus invaded our country, killed my father and brothers, and plundered our wealth? There is not one among you whose kinsman he has not killed, whose money he has not taken, whose livelihood he has not plundered, or whose family he has not carried captive. Today I have heard that he is wholly occupied with his love for his son Janshah, and his armies have dwindled. Now is the time to take our revenge upon him. Prepare to march against him and make ready the engines of war for the assault. Do not be remiss in this matter. We shall march against him, attack him, kill both him and his son, and take possession of his country.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and seventeenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that King Kafid of India ordered his armies and troops to march against King Tayghmus’s country, saying, “Prepare to march and make ready the engines of war for the assault. Do not be remiss in this matter. We shall march against him, attack him, kill both him and his son, and take possession of his country.” When they heard his words, they replied, “We hear and obey.” Each began preparing his equipment, and for three months they made ready arms and weapons and gathered troops. When the armies, soldiers, and champions were all assembled, they clashed the cymbals, blew the trumpets, and raised the banners and standards. Then King Kafid marched out with his troops and armies and traveled until he reached the borders of Kabul, King Tayghmus’s country. Upon entering the land, they plundered it, violated its people, slaughtered the adults, and took the children captive. News reached King Tayghmus, and when he heard it, he was filled with fury. He assembled the great men of his state, his viziers, and the emirs of his kingdom, and said, “Know that Kafid has invaded our territory and entered our country, intending to wage war upon us. He has armies, champions, and troops whose numbers are known only to Almighty God. What do you advise?” They replied, “King of the Age, we advise that we march out against him, fight him, and drive him from our land.” King Tayghmus said, “Prepare for battle.” Then he brought out mail coats and armor, helmets and swords, and every weapon of war that lays champions low and destroys the mightiest warriors. The troops, armies, and champions assembled and made ready for battle. They raised the standards, clashed the cymbals, and blew the trumpets; drums beat and pipes sounded. King Tayghmus marched with his troops to meet King Kafid, and continued advancing with his armies until they drew near him. Then King Tayghmus encamped in a valley called the Valley of Zahran, on the borders of Kabul.

Then King Tayghamus wrote a letter and sent it by a messenger from his army to the king. It read: “To proceed: Let King Kafid know that you have acted like the lowest rabble. Had you been a king and the son of a king, you would never have committed such deeds, nor invaded my country, plundered the people’s wealth, and violated my subjects. Do you not know that all this is tyranny on your part? Had I known that you would dare encroach upon my kingdom, I would have come long before your arrival and barred you from my lands. But if you turn back and put an end to the evil between us, well and good. If you will not, then come forth to meet me on the field, and show your mettle before me in battle and the clash of spears.” He sealed the letter and entrusted it to a capable man from his army, sending spies with him to gather intelligence. The man took the letter and journeyed on until he reached King Kafid. As he drew near the king’s quarters, he saw tents pitched in the distance, made of satin silk, and banners of blue silk. Among the tents stood a great pavilion of red silk, surrounded by a mighty army. He continued until he reached that pavilion and asked whose it was. He was told that it belonged to King Kafid. Looking into its midst, he saw King Kafid seated on a throne studded with jewels, with his viziers, emirs, and officers of state about him. At this sight, he held up the letter in his hand. A party of King Kafid’s soldiers approached, took it from him, and brought it before the king. The king received it, and when he had read it and understood its meaning, he wrote this reply: “To proceed: Let King Tayghamus know that we shall surely take our revenge, wipe away our disgrace, lay waste your dwellings, violate your sanctuaries, slay your elders, and take your young captive. Tomorrow, come forth to fight upon the field, and I shall show you battle and the thrust of spears.” Then he sealed the letter and handed it to King Tayghamus’s messenger, who took it and departed. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and eighteenth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that King Kafid handed his reply to the letter King Tayghamus had sent him to the latter’s messenger, who took it and returned. When he reached his master, he kissed the ground before him, gave him the letter, and told him what he had seen. “O King,” he said, “I saw horsemen, champions, and warriors beyond all reckoning, with reinforcements that seemed to have no end.” When the king read the letter and understood its meaning, he flew into a terrible rage. He ordered his vizier Ayn Zar to ride out with a thousand horsemen, fall upon King Kafid’s army at midnight, plunge into their ranks, and slaughter them. “I hear and obey,” replied the vizier Ayn Zar. Then he mounted, and the troops rode out with him toward King Kafid. Now King Kafid had a vizier named Ghatarfan, whom he ordered to mount and take five thousand horsemen to King Tayghamus’s camp, fall upon his men, and kill them. The vizier Ghatarfan mounted and did as King Kafid commanded, leading his force toward King Tayghamus. They rode on until midnight, when they had covered half the distance, and there the vizier Ghatarfan encountered the vizier Ayn Zar. The men shouted challenges at one another, and a fierce battle broke out between them. They fought on until dawn.

When morning came, King Kafid’s troops were routed and fled back to him. At the sight of them, he flew into a terrible rage and said, “Woe to you! What has befallen you, that you have lost your champions?” They replied, “O King of the Age, when the vizier Ghatarfan mounted and we set out toward King Tayghamus, we rode on until midnight, covering half the distance. Then we encountered Ayn Zar, King Tayghamus’s vizier, advancing upon us with troops and champions. We met beside the Valley of Zahran, and before we knew it we were in the midst of their army, face to face with the enemy. We fought fiercely from midnight until morning, and a great many men were slain. The vizier Ayn Zar would shout in an elephant’s face and strike it, and the elephant would recoil from the force of the blow, trample the horsemen, and turn to flee. No man could see another for the dust that flew about, and blood flowed in torrents. Had we not fled here, we would have been killed to the last man.”

When King Kafid heard these words, he said, “May the sun withhold its blessing from you! May it be fiercely angry with you instead!” Meanwhile, the vizier Ayn Zar returned to King Tayghamus and told him what had happened. King Tayghamus congratulated him on his safe return and rejoiced exceedingly, ordering the cymbals to be struck and the trumpets blown. Then he reviewed his army and found that two hundred of his stouthearted horsemen had been killed. King Kafid now marshalled his soldiers and armies and came onto the field. They drew up rank upon rank, forming fifteen ranks, each of ten thousand horsemen. With him were three hundred champions mounted on elephants. He had chosen his heroes and his mightiest warriors; banners and standards were raised, cymbals clashed, trumpets sounded, and the champions came forth demanding combat. King Tayghamus, for his part, drew up his army rank upon rank, making ten ranks, each of ten thousand horsemen, with a hundred champions riding to his right and left. Once the ranks were formed, every renowned knight advanced, and the armies clashed. The wide earth grew cramped with horses. Drums beat, pipes shrilled, cymbals clashed, trumpets sounded, and the call to battle rang out. Ears were deafened by the neighing of horses on the field; men raised their voices in war cries, and dust gathered in a cloud above their heads. They fought fiercely from the beginning of the day until darkness fell. Then they parted, and the troops returned to their quarters. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and nineteenth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the armies parted and returned to their quarters. King Kafid reviewed his troops and found that five thousand had been slain, whereupon he flew into a terrible rage. King Tayghamus likewise reviewed his army and found that three thousand horsemen, among the choicest of his brave warriors, had been killed. At this, he too grew fiercely angry. Then King Kafid came onto the field once more and did as he had done before, each king seeking victory for himself. King Kafid called out to his army, “Is there any man among you who will come forth onto the field and open the way for us to battle and the thrust of spears?” Thereupon a warrior named Barkik approached, riding an elephant. He was a mighty champion. He came forward, dismounted from the elephant’s back, kissed the ground before King Kafid, and asked leave to engage in single combat. Then he mounted his elephant again and drove it onto the field, crying, “Who will meet me? Who will face me? Who will fight me?” When King Tayghamus heard this, he turned to his army and said, “Which of you will go out against this champion?” A horseman emerged from the ranks, mounted on a horse of enormous size, and rode up to King Tayghamus. He kissed the ground before him and asked permission to fight, then made his way toward Barkik. When he drew near, Barkik said to him, “Who are you, to mock me by coming out alone against me? What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Ghadanfar ibn Kamkhil.” Barkik said, “I used to hear of you in my own country. Come, then, and fight between the ranks of champions!” On hearing these words, Ghadanfar drew an iron club from beneath his thigh, while Barkik took his sword in hand, and they fought fiercely. Then Barkik struck Ghadanfar with his sword, but the blow landed on his helmet and did him no harm. Seeing this, Ghadanfar struck him with his club and crushed his flesh into the flesh of the elephant. Another man came at him, saying, “Who are you, to kill my brother?” Then he took an arrow in his hand and shot Ghadanfar with it. It struck his thigh, pinning his armour to the flesh. At this, Ghadanfar drew his sword and struck the man, cleaving him in two, and he fell to the ground, bellowing as he weltered in his blood.

Then Ghadanfar turned and fled toward King Tayghamus. Seeing this, King Kafid shouted to his troops, “Take the field and fight the horsemen!” King Tayghamus came down with his soldiers and armies, and they fought fiercely. Horse neighed at horse, and man shouted at man. Swords were drawn, every renowned knight advanced, and horsemen charged upon horsemen, while cowards fled the clash of spears. Cymbals clashed and trumpets sounded, and nothing could be heard but the tumult of shouting and the clatter of weapons. Many a champion perished in that hour. They continued thus until the sun stood in the vault of heaven. Then King Tayghamus withdrew with his soldiers and armies and returned to his tents, and King Kafid did likewise. King Tayghamus reviewed his men and found that five thousand horsemen had been slain and four of his standards broken. When he learned this, he flew into a terrible rage. King Kafid, for his part, reviewed his army and found that six hundred horsemen, among the choicest of his brave warriors, had been killed and nine of his standards broken. Fighting then ceased between them for three days. After that, King Kafid wrote a letter and sent it by a messenger from his army to a king named Faqun the Dog. The messenger made his way to him, for Kafid claimed kinship with him through his mother. When King Faqun learned what had happened, he gathered his soldiers and armies and set out to join King Kafid. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the five hundred and twentieth night,

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that King Faqun gathered his soldiers and armies and set out to join King Kafid. While King Tayghamus was sitting in his pavilion, a man came to him and said, “I have seen a cloud of dust rising into the sky in the distance.” King Tayghamus ordered a party of his soldiers to discover what lay behind that dust cloud. “We hear and obey,” they replied. They went away and returned, saying, “O King, we saw the dust, and after a while the wind struck it and scattered it. Beneath it appeared banners, with three thousand horsemen under every banner, and they were making their way toward King Kafid.” When King Faqun the Dog reached King Kafid, he greeted him and said, “What has happened to you? What is this war in which you are engaged?” King Kafid replied, “Do you not know that King Tayghamus is my enemy, and that he fought against my brothers and my father? I have come to fight him and take my revenge upon him.” King Faqun said, “May the sun bless you!” Then King Kafid took King Faqun the Dog to his pavilion, rejoicing exceedingly. Such was the case with King Tayghamus and King Kafid.