The Shaving of Shagpat; an Arabian entertainment — Complete Read online

  Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger

  THE SHAVING OF SHAGPAT

  By George Meredith

  AN ARABIAN ENTERTAINMENT

  1898/1909

  CONTENTS:

  THE THWACKINGS THE STORY OF BHANAVAR THE BEAUTIFUL THE BETROTHAL PUNISHMENT OF SHAHPESH, THE PERSIAN, ON KHIPIL, THE BUILDER THE GENIE KARAZ THE WELL OF PARAVID THE HORSE GARRAVEEN THE TALKING HAWK GOORELKA OF OOLB THE LILY OF THE ENCHANTED SEA STORY OF NOORNA BIN NOORKA, THE GENIE KARAZ, AND THE PRINCESS OF OOLB THE WILES OF RABESQURAT THE PALACE OF AKLIS THE SONS OF AKLIS THE SWORD OF AKLIS KOOROOKH THE VEILED FIGURE THE BOSOM OF NOORNA THE REVIVAL THE PLOT THE DISH OF POMEGRANATE GRAIN THE BURNING OF THE IDENTICAL THE FLASHES OF THE BLADE CONCLUSION

  THE SHAVING OF SHAGPAT

  BOOK I.

  THE THWACKINGSTHE STORY OF BHANAVAR THE BEAUTIFUL

  THE THWACKINGS

  It was ordained that Shibli Bagarag, nephew to the renowned BabaMustapha, chief barber to the Court of Persia, should shave Shagpat, theson of Shimpoor, the son of Shoolpi, the son of Shullum; and they hadbeen clothiers for generations, even to the time of Shagpat, theillustrious.

  Now, the story of Shibli Bagarag, and of the ball he followed, and of thesubterranean kingdom he came to, and of the enchanted palace he entered,and of the sleeping king he shaved, and of the two princesses hereleased, and of the Afrite held in subjection by the arts of one andbottled by her, is it not known as 'twere written on the finger-nails ofmen and traced in their corner-robes? As the poet says:

  Ripe with oft telling and old is the tale, But 'tis of the sort that can never grow stale.

  Now, things were in that condition with Shibli Bagarag, that on a certainday he was hungry and abject, and the city of Shagpat the clothier wasbefore him; so he made toward it, deliberating as to how he shouldprocure a meal, for he had not a dirhem in his girdle, and theremembrance of great dishes and savoury ingredients were to him as theillusion of rivers sheening on the sands to travellers gasping withthirst.

  And he considered his case, crying, 'Surely this comes of wandering, and'tis the curse of the inquiring spirit! for in Shiraz, where my craft isin favour, I should be sitting now with my uncle, Baba Mustapha, theloquacious one, cross-legged, partaking of seasoned sweet dishes, dippingmy fingers in them, rejoicing my soul with scandal of the Court!'

  Now, he came to a knoll of sand under a palm, from which the yellow domesand mosques of the city of Shagpat, and its black cypresses, and marblepalace fronts, and shining pillars, and lofty carven arches that spannedhalf-circles of the hot grey sky, were plainly visible. Then gazed heawhile despondingly on the city of Shagpat, and groaned in contemplationof his evil plight, as is said by the poet:

  The curse of sorrow is comparison! As the sun casteth shade, night showeth star, We, measuring what we were by what we are, Behold the depth to which we are undone.

  Wherefore he counselleth:

  Look neither too much up, nor down at all, But, forward stepping, strive no more to fall.

  And the advice is excellent; but, as is again said:

  The preacher preacheth, and the hearer heareth, But comfort first each function requireth.

  And 'wisdom to a hungry stomach is thin pottage,' saith the shrewd readerof men. Little comfort was there with Shibli Bagarag, as he looked on thecity of Shagpat the clothier! He cried aloud that his evil chance had gotthe better of him, and rolled his body in the sand, beating his breast,and conjuring up images of the profusion of dainties and the abundance ofprovision in Shiraz, exclaiming, 'Well-a-way and woe's me! this it is tobe selected for the diversion of him that plotteth against man.' Truly isit written:

  On different heads misfortunes come: One bears them firm, another faints, While this one hangs them like a drum Whereon to batter loud complaints.

  And of the three kinds, they who bang the drum outnumber the silent onesas do the billows of the sea the ships that swim, or the grains of sandthe trees that grow; a noisy multitude.

  Now, he was in the pits of despondency, even as one that yieldeth withoutfurther struggle to the waves of tempest at midnight, when he was ware ofone standing over him,--a woman, old, wrinkled, a very crone, with butroom for the drawing of a thread between her nose and her chin; she was,as is cited of them who betray the doings of Time,

  Wrinkled at the rind, and overripe at the core,

  and every part of her nodded and shook like a tree sapped by the waters,and her joints were sharp as the hind-legs of a grasshopper; she wasindeed one close-wrecked upon the rocks of Time.

  Now, when the old woman had scanned Shibli Bagarag, she called to him, 'Othou! what is it with thee, that thou rollest as one reft of his wits?'

  He answered her, 'I bewail my condition, which is beggary, and the lackof that which filleth with pleasantness.'

  So the old woman said, 'Tell me thy case.'

  He answered her, 'O old woman, surely it was written at my birth that Ishould take ruin from the readers of planets. Now, they proclaimed that Iwas one day destined for great things, if I stood by my tackle, I, abarber. Know then, that I have had many offers and bribes, seductiveones, from the rich and the exalted in rank; and I heeded them not,mindful of what was foretold of me. I stood by my tackle as a warriorstandeth by his arms, flourishing them. Now, when I found great thingscame not to me, and 'twas the continuance of sameness and satiety withBaba Mustapha, my uncle, in Shiraz,--the tongue-wagger, the endlesstattler,--surely I was advised by the words of the poet to go forth insearch of what was wanting, and he says:

  "Thou that dreamest an Event, While Circumstance is but a waste of sand, Arise, take up thy fortunes in thy hand, And daily forward pitch thy tent."

  Now, I passed from city to city, proclaiming my science, holding aloft mytackle. Wullahy! many adventures were mine, and if there's some daypropitiousness in fortune, O old woman, I'll tell thee of what befell mein the kingdom of Shah Shamshureen: 'tis wondrous, a matter to draw downthe lower jaw with amazement! Now, so it was, that in the eyes of onecity I was honoured and in request, by reason of my calling, and I faredsumptuously, even as a great officer of state surrounded by slaves,lounging upon clouds of silk stuffs, circled by attentive ears: inanother city there was no beast so base as I. Wah! I was one hunted ofmen and an abomination; no housing for me, nought to operate upon. I wasthe lean dog that lieth in wait for offal. It seemeth certain, O oldwoman, that a curse hath fallen on barbercraft in these days, because ofthe Identical, whose might I know not. Everywhere it is growing indisrepute; 'tis languishing! Nevertheless till now I have preserved mytackle, and I would descend on yonder city to exercise it, even for alivelihood, forgetting awhile great things, but that I dread men may havechanged there also,--and there's no stability in them, I call Allah(whose name be praised!) to witness; so should I be a thing unsightly,subject to hateful castigation; wherefore is it that I am in that statedescribed by the poet, when,

  "Dreading retreat, dreading advance to make, Round we revolve, like to the wounded snake."

  Is not my case now a piteous one, one that toucheth the tender corner inman and woman?'

  When she that listened had heard him to an end, she shook her garments,crying, 'O youth, son of my uncle, be comforted! for, if it is as Ithink, the readers of planets were right, and thou art thus early withinreach of great things--nigh grasping them.'

  Then she fell to mumbling and reciting jigs of verse, quaint measures
;and she pored along the sand to where a line had been drawn, and saw thatthe footprints of the youth were traced along it. Lo, at that sight sheclapped her hands joyfully, and ran up to the youth, and peered in hisface, exclaiming, 'Great things indeed! and praise thou the readers ofplanets, O nephew of the barber, they that sent thee searching the Eventthou art to master. Wullahy! have I not half a mind to call thee alreadyMaster of the Event?'

  Then she abated somewhat in her liveliness, and said to him, 'Know thatthe city thou seest is the city of Shagpat, the clothier, and there's noone living on the face of earth, nor a soul that requireth thy craft morethan he. Go therefore thou, bold of heart, brisk, full of thesprightliness of the barber, and enter to him. Lo, thou'lt see himlolling in his shop-front to be admired of this people--marvelled at. Oh!no mistaking of Shagpat, and the mole might discern Shagpat among myriadsof our kind; and enter thou to him gaily, as to perform a friendlyoffice, one meriting thanks and gratulations, saying, ''I will preservethee the Identical!'' Now he'll at first feign not to understand thee,dense of wit that he is! but mince not matters with him, perform well thyoperation, and thou wilt come to great things. What say I? 'tis certainthat when thou hast shaved Shagpat thou wilt have achieved the greatestof things, and be most noteworthy of thy race, thou, Shibli Bagarag, eventhou! and thou wilt be Master of the Event, so named in anecdotes andhistories and records, to all succeeding generations.'

  At her words the breast of Shibli Bagarag took in a great wind, and hehung his head a moment to ponder them; and he thought, 'There'sprovokingness in the speech of this old woman, and she's one thatinstigateth keenly. She called me by my name! Heard I that? 'Tis amystery!' And he thought, 'Peradventure she is a Genie, one of an illtribe, and she's luring me to my perdition in this city! How if that beso?' And again he thought, 'It cannot be! She's probably the Genie thatpresided over my birth, and promised me dower of great things through themouths of the readers of planets.'

  Now, when Shibli Bagarag had so deliberated, he lifted his sight, and lo,the old woman was no longer before him! He stared, and rubbed his eyes,but she was clean gone. Then ran he to the knolls and eminences that werescattered about, to command a view, but she was nowhere visible. So hethought, ''Twas a dream!' and he was composing himself to despair uponthe scant herbage of one of those knolls, when as he chanced to gaze downthe city below, he saw there a commotion and a crowd of people flockingone way; he thought, ''Twas surely no dream? come not Genii, and go theynot, in the fashion of that old woman? I'll even descend on yonder city,and try my tackle on Shagpat, inquiring for him, and if he is there, Ishall know I have had to do with a potent spirit. Allah protect me!'

  So, having shut together the clasps of resolve, he arose and made for thegates of the city, and entered it by the principal entrance. It was afair city, the fairest and chief of that country; prosperous, powerful; amart for numerous commodities, handicrafts, wares; round it a wildcountry and a waste of sand, ruled by the lion in his wrath, and in itthe tiger, the camelopard, the antelope, and other animals. Hither, incaravans, came the people of Oolb and the people of Damascus, and thepeople of Vatz, and they of Bagdad, and the Ringheez, great traders, andothers, trading; and there was constant flow of intercourse between themand the city of Shagpat. Now as Shibli Bagarag paced up one of thestreets of the city, he beheld a multitude in procession following onethat was crowned after the manner of kings, with a glittering crown, cladin the yellow girdled robes, and he sporting a fine profusion of hair,unequalled by all around him, save by one that was a little behind,shadowed by his presence. So Shibli Bagarag thought, 'Is one of thistwain Shagpat? for never till now have I seen such rare growths, and'twere indeed a bliss to slip the blade between them and those masses ofdarkness that hang from them.' Then he stepped before the King, and madehimself prominent in his path, humbling himself; and it was as heanticipated, the King prevented his removal by the slaves that would havedragged him away, and desired a hearing as to his business, and whatbrought him to the city, a stranger.

  Thereupon Shibli Bagarag prostrated himself and cried, 'O great King,Sovereign of the Time! surely I am one to be looked on with the eye ofgrace; and I am nephew to Baba Mustapha, renowned in Shiraz, a barber;--Ia barber, and it is my prayer, O King of the Age, that thou take me underthy protection and the shield of thy fair will, while I perform good workin this city by operating on the unshorn.'

  When he had spoken, the King made a point of his eyebrows, and exclaimed,'Shiraz? So they hold out against Shagpat yet, aha? Shiraz! that nest ofthem! that reptile's nest!' Then he turned to his Vizier beside him, andsaid, 'What shall be done with this fellow?'

  So the Vizier replied, ''Twere well, O King, he be summoned to a sense ofthe loathsomeness of his craft by the agency of fifty stripes.'

  The King said, ''Tis commanded!'

  Then he passed forward in his majesty, and Shibli Bagarag was ware of thepower of five slaves upon him, and he was hurried at a quick pace throughthe streets and before the eyes of the people, even to the commonreceptacle of felons, and there received from each slave severally tenthwacks with a thong: 'tis certain that at every thwack the thong took anairing before it descended upon him. Then loosed they him, to wanderwhither he listed; and disgust was strong in him by reason of thedisgrace and the severity of the administration of the blows. He strayedalong the streets in wretchedness, and hunger increased on him, assailinghim first as a wolf in his vitals, then as it had been a chasm yawningbetwixt his trunk and his lower members. And he thought, 'I have beenlong in chase of great things, and the hope of attaining them is great;yet, wullahy! would I barter all for one refreshing meal, and the senseof fulness. 'Tis so, and sad is it!' And he was mindful of the poet'swords,--

  Who seeks the shadow to the substance sinneth, And daily craving what is not, he thinneth: His lean ambition how shall he attain? For with this constant foolishness he doeth, He, waxing liker to what he pursueth, Himself becometh what he chased in vain!

  And again:

  Of honour half my fellows boast,-- A thing that scorns and kills us: Methinks that honours us the most Which nourishes and fills us.

  So he thought he would of a surety fling far away his tackle, discardbarbercraft, and be as other men, a mortal, forgotten with hisgeneration. And he cried aloud, 'O thou old woman! thou deceiver! whathalt thou obtained for me by thy deceits? and why put I faith in thee tothe purchase of a thwacking? Woe's me! I would thou hadst been but adream, thou crone! thou guileful parcel of belabouring bones!'

  Now, while he lounged and strolled, and was abusing the old woman, helooked before him, and lo, one lolling in his shop-front, and peoplestanding outside the shop, marking him with admiration and reverence, andpointing him out to each other with approving gestures. He who lolledthere was indeed a miracle of hairiness, black with hair as he had beenmuzzled with it, and his head as it were a berry in a bush by reason ofit. Then thought Shibli Bagarag, ''Tis Shagpat! If the mole could swearto him, surely can I.' So he regarded the clothier, and there was naughtseen on earth like the gravity of Shagpat as he lolled before thosepeople, that failed not to assemble in groups and gaze at him. He was asa sleepy lion cased in his mane; as an owl drowsy in the daylight. Nowwould he close an eye, or move two fingers, but of other motion made henone, yet the people gazed at him with eagerness. Shibli Bagarag wasastonished at them, thinking, 'Hair! hair! There is might in hair; butthere is greater might in the barber! Nevertheless here the barber isscorned, the grower of crops held in amazing reverence.' Then thought he,''Tis truly wondrous the crop he groweth; not even King Shamshureen,after a thousand years, sported such mighty profusion! Him I sheared: itwas a high task!--why not this Shagpat?'

  Now, long gazing on Shagpat awoke in Shibli Bagarag fierce desire toshear him, and it was scarce in his power to restrain himself from flyingat the clothier, he saying, 'What obstacle now? what protecteth him? Nay,why not trust to the old woman? Said she not I should first essay onShagpat? and 'twas
my folly in appealing to the King that brought on methat thwacking. 'Tis well! I'll trust to her words. Wullahy! will it notlead me to great things?'

  So it was, that as he thought this he continued to keep eye on Shagpat,and the hunger that was in him passed, and became a ravenous vulture thatflew from him and singled forth Shagpat as prey; and there was no helpfor it but in he must go and state his case to Shagpat, and essayshearing him.

  Now, when he was in the presence, he exclaimed, 'Peace, O vendor ofapparel, unto thee and unto thine!'

  Shagpat answered, 'That with thee!'

  Said Shibli Bagarag, 'I have heard of thee, O thou wonder! Wullahy! I amhere to render homage to that I behold.'

  Shagpat answered, ''Tis well!'

  Then said Shibli Bagarag, 'Praise my discretion! I have even this dayentered the city, and it is to thee I offer the first shave, O tangle ofglory!'

  At these words Shagpat darkened, saying gruffly, 'Thy jest is offensive,and it is unseasonable for staleness and lack of holiness.'

  But Shibli Bagarag cried, 'No jest, O purveyor to the outward of us! buta very excellent earnest.'

  Thereat the face of Shagpat was as an exceeding red berry in a bush, andhe said angrily, 'Have done! no more of it! or haply my spleen will beawakened, and that of them who see with more eyes than two.'

  Nevertheless Shibli Bagarag urged him, and he winked, and gesticulated,and pointed to his head, crying, 'Fall not, O man of the nicety ofmeasure, into the trap of error; for 'tis I that am a barber, and ararity in this city, even Shibli Bagarag of Shiraz! Know me nephew of therenowned Baba Mustapha, chief barber to the Court of Persia. Languishestthou not for my art? Lo! with three sweeps I'll give thee a clean poll,all save the Identical! and I can discern and save it; fear me not, nordistrust my skill and the cunning that is mine.'

  When he had heard Shibli Bagarag to a close, the countenance of Shagpatwaxed fiery, as it had been flame kindled by travellers at night in athorny bramble-bush, and he ruffled, and heaved, and was as when densejungle-growths are stirred violently by the near approach of a wildanimal in his fury, shouting in short breaths, 'A barber! a barber! Is'tso? can it be? To me? A barber! O thou, thou reptile! filthy thing! Abarber! O dog! A barber? What? when I bid fair for the highest honoursknown? O sacrilegious wretch! monster! How? are the Afrites jealous, thatthey send thee to jibe me?'

  Thereupon he set up a cry for his wife, and that woman rushed to him froman inner room, and fell upon Shibli Bagarag, belabouring him.

  So, when she was weary of this, she said, 'O light of my eyes! O goldencrop and adorable man! what hath he done to thee?'

  Shagpat answered, ''Tis a barber! and he hath sworn to shave me, andleave me not save shorn!'

  Hardly had Shagpat spoken this, when she became limp with the hearing ofit. Then Shibli Bagarag slunk from the shop; but without the crowd hadincreased, seeing an altercation, and as he took to his heels theyfollowed him, and there was uproar in the streets of the city and in theair above them, as of raging Genii, he like a started quarry doublingthis way and that, and at the corners of streets and open places,speeding on till there was no breath in his body, the cry still after himthat he had bearded Shagpat. At last they came up with him, andbelaboured him each and all; it was a storm of thwacks that fell on theback of Shibli Bagarag. When they had wearied themselves in this fashion,they took him as had he been a stray bundle or a damaged bale, and hurledhim from the gates of the city into the wilderness once more.

  Now, when he was alone, he staggered awhile and then flung himself to theearth, looking neither to the right nor to the left, nor above. All hecould think was, 'O accursed old woman!' and this he kept repeating tohimself for solace; as the poet says:

  'Tis sure the special privilege of hate, To curse the authors of our evil state.

  As he was thus complaining, behold the very old woman before him! And shewheezed, and croaked, and coughed, and shook herself, and screwed herface into a pleasing pucker, and assumed womanish airs, and swayedherself, like as do the full moons of the harem when the eye of themaster is upon them. Having made an end of these prettinesses, she said,in a tone of soft insinuation, 'O youth, nephew of the barber, look uponme.'

  Shibli Bagarag knew her voice, and he would not look, thinking, 'Oh, whata dreadful old woman is this! just calling on her name in detestationmaketh her present to us.' So the old woman, seeing him resolute to shunher, leaned to him, and put one hand to her dress, and squatted besidehim, and said, 'O youth, thou hast been thwacked!'

  He groaned, lifting not his face, nor saying aught. Then said she, 'Artthou truly in search of great things, O youth?'

  Still he groaned, answering no syllable. And she continued, ''Tis surelyin sweet friendliness I ask. Art thou not a fair youth, one to entice adamsel to perfect friendliness?'

  Louder yet did he groan at her words, thinking, 'A damsel, verily!' Sothe old woman said, 'I wot thou art angry with me; but now look up, Onephew of the barber! no time for vexation. What says the poet?--

  "Cares the warrior for his wounds When the steed in battle bounds?"

  Moreover:

  "Let him who grasps the crown strip not for shame, Lest he expose what gain'd it blow and maim!"

  So be it with thee and thy thwacking, O foolish youth! Hide it fromthyself, thou silly one! What! thou hast been thwacked, and refusest thefruit of it--which is resoluteness, strength of mind, sternness inpursuit of the object!'

  Then she softened her tone to persuasiveness, saying, ''Twas written Ishould be the head of thy fortune, O Shibli Bagarag! and thou'lt beenviable among men by my aid, so look upon me, and (for I know theefamished) thou shah presently be supplied with viands and bright winesand sweetmeats, delicacies to cheer thee.'

  Now, the promise of food and provision was powerful with Shibli Bagarag,and he looked up gloomily. And the old woman smiled archly at him, andwriggled in her seat like a dusty worm, and said, 'Dost thou find mecharming, thou fair youth?'

  He was nigh laughing in her face, but restrained himself to reply, 'Thouart that thou art!'

  Said she, 'Not so, but that I shall be.' Then she said, 'O youth, pay menow a compliment!'

  Shibli Bagarag was at a loss what further to say to the old woman, forhis heart cursed her for her persecutions, and ridiculed her for hervanities. At last he bethought himself of the saying of the poet, trulythe offspring of fine wit, where he says:

  Expect no flatteries from me, While I am empty of good things; I'll call thee fair, and I'll agree Thou boldest Love in silken strings, When thou bast primed me from thy plenteous store! But, oh! till then a clod am I: No seed within to throw up flowers: All's drouthy to the fountain dry: To empty stomachs Nature lowers: The lake was full where heaven look'd fair of yore!

  So, when he had spoken that, the old woman laughed and exclaimed, 'Thouart apt! it is well said! Surely I excuse thee till that time! Nowlisten! 'Tis written we work together, and I know it by divination. HaveI not known thee wandering, and on thy way to this city of Shagpat, wherethou'lt some day sit throned? Now I propose to thee this--and 'tis anexcellent proposal--that I lead thee to great things, and make theeglorious, a sitter in high seats, Master of an Event?'

  Cried he, 'A proposal honourable to thee, and pleasant in the ear.'

  She added, 'Provided thou marry me in sweet marriage.'

  Thereat he stared on vacancy with a serious eye, and he could scarcecredit her earnestness, but she repeated the same. So presently hethought, 'This old hag appeareth deep in the fountain of events, and shewill be a right arm to me in the mastering of one, a torch in darkness,seeing there is wisdom in her as well as wickedness. The thwackings?--sadwas their taste, but they're in the road leading to greatness, and Icannot say she put me out of that road in putting me where they were. Herage?--shall I complain of that when it is a sign she goeth shortlyaltogether?'

  As he was thus debating he regarded the old woman stealthily, and she wasin ag
itation, so that her joints creaked like forest branches in a wind,and the puckers of her visage moved as do billows of the sea to and fro,and the anticipations of a fair young bride are not more eager than whatwas visible in the old woman. Wheedlingly she looked at him, and shapedher mouth like a bird's bill to soften it; and she drew together herdress, to give herself the look of slimness, using all fascinations. Hethought, ''Tis a wondrous old woman! Marriage would seem a thing ofmoment to her, yet is the profit with me, and I'll agree to it.' So hesaid, ''Tis a pact between us, O old woman!'

  Now, the eyes of the old woman brightened when she heard him, and were asthe eyes of a falcon that eyeth game, hungry with red fire, and shelooked brisk with impatience, laughing a low laugh and saying, 'O youth,I must claim of thee, as is usual in such cases, the kiss of contract.'

  So Shibli Bagarag was mindful of what is written,

  If thou wouldst take the great leap, be ready for the little jump,

  and he stretched out his mouth to the forehead of the old woman. When hehad done so, it was as though she had been illuminated, as when light isput in the hollow of a pumpkin. Then said she, 'This is well! this is afair beginning! Now look, for thy fortune will of a surety follow. Callme now sweet bride, and knocker at the threshold of hearts!'

  So Shibli Bagarag sighed, and called her this, and he said, 'Forget notmy condition, O old woman, and that I am nigh famished.'

  Upon that she nodded gravely, and arose and shook her garments together,and beckoned for Shibli Bagarag to follow her; and the two passed throughthe gates of the city, and held on together through divers streets andthoroughfares till they came before the doors of a palace with a pillaredentrance; and the old woman passed through the doors of the palace as onefamiliar to them, and lo! they were in a lofty court, built all ofmarble, and in the middle of it a fountain playing, splashing silvery.Shibli Bagarag would have halted here to breathe the cool refreshingnessof the air, but the old woman would not; and she hurried on even to theopening of a spacious Hall, and in it slaves in circle round a raisedseat, where sat one that was their lord, and it was the Chief Vizier ofthe King.

  Then the old woman turned round sharply to Shibli Bagarag, and said, 'Howof thy tackle, O my betrothed?'

  He answered, 'The edge is keen, the hand ready.'

  Then said she, ''Tis well.'

  So the old woman put her two hands on the shoulders of Shibli Bagarag,saying, 'Make thy reverence to him on the raised seat; have faith in thytackle and in me. Renounce not either, whatsoever ensueth. Be notabashed, O my bridegroom to be!'

  Thereupon she thrust him in; and Shibli Bagarag was abashed, and playedfoolishly with his fingers, knowing not what to do. So when the ChiefVizier saw him he cried out, 'Who art thou, and what wantest thou?'

  Now, the back of Shibli Bagarag tingled when he heard the Vizier's voice,and he said, 'I am, O man of exalted condition, he whom men know asShibli Bagarag, nephew to Baba Mustapha, the renowned of Shiraz; myselfbarber likewise, proud of my art, prepared to exercise it.'

  Then said the Chief Vizier, 'This even to our faces! Wonderful is theaudacity of impudence! Know, O nephew of the barber, thou art among themthat honour not thy art. Is it not written, For one thing thou shaft becrowned here, for that thing be thwacked there? So also it is written,The tongue of the insolent one is a lash and a perpetual castigation tohim. And it is written, O Shibli Bagarag, that I reap honour from thee,and there is no help but that thou be made an example of.'

  So the Chief Vizier uttered command, and Shibli Bagarag was ware of thepower of five slaves upon him; and they seized him familiarly, and placedhim in position, and made ready his clothing for the reception of fiftyother thwacks with a thong, each several thwack coming down on him with ahiss, as it were a serpent, and with a smack, as it were the mouth ofsatisfaction; and the people assembled extolled the Chief Vizier, saying,'Well and valiantly done, O stay of the State! and such-like to theaccursed race of barbers.'

  Now, when they had passed before the Chief Vizier and departed, lo! hefell to laughing violently, so that his hair was agitated and was as asand-cloud over him, and his countenance behind it was as the sun of thedesert reflected ripplingly on the waters of a bubbling spring, for ithad the aspect of merriness; and the Chief Vizier exclaimed, 'O ShibliBagarag, have I not made fair show?'

  And Shibli Bagarag said, 'Excellent fair show, O mighty one!' Yet knew henot in what, but he was abject by reason of the thwacks.

  So the Vizier said, 'Thou lookest lean, even as one to whom Fortune owetha long debt. Tell me now of thy barbercraft: perchance thy gain will begreat thereby?'

  And Shibli Bagarag answered, 'My gain has been great, O eminent in rank,but of evil quality, and I am content not to increase it.' And he brokeforth into lamentations, crying in excellent verse:--

  Why am I thus the sport of all-- A thing Fate knocketh like a ball From point to point of evil chance, Even as the sneer of Circumstance? While thirsting for the highest fame, I hunger like the lowest beast: To be the first of men I aim And find myself the least.

  Now, the Vizier delayed not when he heard this to have a fair supply setbefore Shibli Bagarag, and meats dressed in divers fashions, spiced, andcoloured, and with herbs, and wines in golden goblets, and slaves inattendance. So Shibli Bagarag ate and drank, and presently his soul arosefrom its prostration, and he cried, 'Wullahy! the head cook of KingShamshureen could have worked no better as regards the restorativeprocess.'

  Then said the Chief Vizier, 'O Shibli Bagarag, where now is thy tackle?'

  And Shibli Bagarag winked and nodded and turned his head in the manner ofthe knowing ones, and he recited the verse:

  'Tis well that we are sometimes circumspect, And hold ourselves in witless ways deterred: One thwacking made me seriously reflect; A SECOND turned the cream of love to curd: Most surely that profession I reject Before the fear of a prospective THIRD.

  So the Vizier said, ''Tis well, thou turnest verse neatly' And heexclaimed extemporaneously:

  If thou wouldst have thy achievement as high

  As the wings of Ambition can fly: If thou the clear summit of hope wouldst attain, And not have thy labour in vain; Be steadfast in that which impell'd, for the peace Of earth he who leaves must have trust: He is safe while he soars, but when faith shall cease, Desponding he drops to the dust.

  Then said he, 'Fear no further thwacking, but honour and prosperity inthe place of it. What says the poet?--

  "We faint, when for the fire There needs one spark; We droop, when our desire Is near its mark."

  How near to it art thou, O Shibli Bagarag! Know, then, that among thispeople there is great reverence for the growing of hair, and he that ishairiest is honoured most, wherefore are barbers creatures of especialabhorrence, and of a surety flourish not. And so it is that I owe mystation to the esteem I profess for the cultivation of hair, and to mypersecution of the clippers of it. And in this kingdom is no one thatbeareth such a crop as I, saving one, a clothier, an accursed one!--andmay a blight fall upon him for his vanity and his affectation of solemnpriestliness, and his lolling in his shop-front to be admired andmarvelled at by the people. So this fellow I would disgrace and bring toscorn,--this Shagpat! for he is mine enemy, and the eye of the King mymaster is on him. Now I conceive thy assistance in this matter, ShibliBagarag,--thou, a barber.'

  When Shibli Bagarag heard mention of Shagpat, and the desire forvengeance in the Vizier, he was as a new man, and he smelt the sweetnessof his own revenge as a vulture smelleth the carrion from afar, and hesaid, 'I am thy servant, thy slave, O Vizier!' Then smiled he as to hisown soul, and he exclaimed, 'On my head be it!'

  And it was to him as when sudden gusts of perfume from garden roses ofthe valley meet the traveller's nostril on the hill that overlooketh thevalley, filling him with ecstasy and newness of life, delicate visions.And he cried, 'Wullahy! this is fair; this is well! I am he that wasappoi
nted to do thy work, O man in office! What says the poet?--

  "The destined hand doth strike the fated blow: Surely the arrow's fitted to the bow!"

  And he says:

  "The feathered seed for the wind delayeth, The wind above the garden swayeth, The garden of its burden knoweth, The burden falleth, sinketh, soweth."'

  So the Vizier chuckled and nodded, saying, 'Right, right! aptly spoken, Oyouth of favour! 'Tis even so, and there is wisdom in what is written:

  "Chance is a poor knave; Its own sad slave; Two meet that were to meet: Life 's no cheat."'

  Upon that he cried, 'First let us have with us the Eclipser of Reason,and take counsel with her, as is my custom.'

  Now, the Vizier made signal to a slave in attendance, and the slavedeparted from the Hall, and the Vizier led Shibli Bagarag into a closerchamber, which had a smooth floor of inlaid silver and silken hangings,the windows looking forth on the gardens of the palace and its fountainsand cool recesses of shade and temperate sweetness. While they sat thereconversing in this metre and that, measuring quotations, lo! the oldwoman, the affianced of Shibli Bagarag--and she sumptuously arrayed, inperfect queenliness, her head bound in a circlet of gems and gold, herfigure lustrous with a full robe of flowing crimson silk; and she woreslippers embroidered with golden traceries, and round her waist a girdleflashing with jewels, so that to look on she was as a long falling waterin the last bright slant of the sun. Her hair hung disarranged, andspread in a scattered fashion off her shoulders; and she was younger bymany moons, her brow smooth where Shibli Bagarag had given the kiss ofcontract, her hand soft and white where he had taken it. Shibli Bagaragwas smitten with astonishment at sight of her, and he thought, 'Surelythe aspect of this old woman would realise the story of Bhanavar theBeautiful; and it is a story marvellous to think of; yet how great is thelikeness between Bhanavar and this old woman that groweth younger!'

  And he thought again, 'What if the story of Bhanavar be a true one; thisold woman such as she--no other?'

  So, while he considered her, the Vizier exclaimed, 'Is she not fair--mydaughter?'

  And the youth answered, 'She is, O Vizier, that she is!'

  But the Vizier cried, 'Nay, by Allah! she is that she will be.' And theVizier said, ''Tis she that is my daughter; tell me thy thought of her,as thou thinkest it.'

  And Shibli Bagarag replied, 'O Vizier, my thought of her is, she seemethindeed as Bhanavar the Beautiful--no other.'

  Then the Vizier and the Eclipser of Reason exclaimed together, 'How ofBhanavar and her story, O youth? We listen!'

  So Shibli Bagarag leaned slightly on a cushion of a couch, and narratedas followeth.