THE TREASURE HOUSE OF EASTERN STORY UNDER THE DIRECTORSHIP OF SIR E. DENISON ROSS HITOPADESA A Book of Wholesome Counsel A Translation from the original Sanskrit by Francis Johnson: revised and in part re-written with an Introduction by Lionel D. Barnett, M.A., Litt.D. STORIES FROM SA‘DI’S BUSTAN AND GULISTAN Stories from the Bustdn of Shaykh Sa‘df together with selections from Francis Gladwin’s translation of Sa‘d{’s Gulistdn, the former translated and the latter re- vised by Reuben Levy, M.A., Lecturer in Persian in the University of Cambridge. STORIES OF THE BUDDHA Being Selections from the Jataka. With an Introduction by Mrs. Rhys Davids, D.Litt., M.A. Lecturer in Pali and Budd- hism, School of Oriental Studies, Lon- don ; President of the Pali Text Society. THE HISTORY OF HAYY IBN YAQZAN By Abu Bakr Ibn Tufail. Translated from the Arabic by Simon Ockley. Re- vised, with an Introduction by A. S. Fulton, Assistant Keeper in the Depart- ment of Oriental Books and MSS. in the British Museum. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING oe cece cage eget e ects es TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING being Selections from the Mathnawi of Falal-ud-Din Rimi Translated with an Introduction by R. A. NICHOLSON Sir Thomas Adams’s Professor of Arabic in the University of Cambridge With a Frontispiece by CYNTHIA KENT LONDON CHAPMAN AND HALL LIMITED MCMXXXI Ora 0 0 Ota 0 9 Ot °3 ° fy e i SAN? oP tS oes MS Printed in Great Britain at The Westminster Press, London, W.9 and bound by A. W. Bain & Co., Ltd. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. Introduction page xi The King and the Handmaiden_i The Grocer and the Parrot 13 The Man who flew to Hindustan 15 The Sufi and the Unfaithful Servant 17 The Falcon amongst the Owls 23 The Man who fancied he saw the New Moon 27 The Braggart and the Sheep’s Tail 29 The Three Fishes 32 The Greek and Chinese Artists 36 The Druggist and the Clay-eater 39 The Frozen Snake 41 The Sincere Penitent 46 The Paladin of Qazwin 47 The Greedy Insolvent 50 Joseph and his Guest 56 The Man who trusted the Bear 58 The Thief who said he was a Drummer 61 The Goldsmith who looked ahead 62 Luqman and his Master 64 The Lion and the Beasts of Chase 67 The Sufi and the Empty Wallet 75 XXXTIT. XXXIV. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVITI. XXXVITT. The Difference between Feeling and Thinking page 77 The Gnat and the Wind 78 The Prince who was beaten at Chess by the Court-jester . 82 The Infant Mohammed and the Idols 83 The Siifis who sold the Traveller’s Ass 88 The Four Beggars who wished to buy Grapes 93 Moses and the Shepherd 95 The Cat and the Meat 98 How Bayazid performed the The Arab of the Desert and his Dog 103 The Teacher who imagined he was Iil 105 The Unseen Elephant III Pharaoh and his Magicians 112 The Most Beautiful City 119 The Patience of Luqman 120 How Jesus fled from the Fools 122 The Man who thought he had prayed to God in vain The House built on Hypotheses Sultan Muhammad Khwarazm- shah and the People of Sab- zawar The Man who wished to learn the Language of Beasts and Birds page The Friend who said “‘T’’ Ibrahim Son of Adham The Man who prayed that he might receive his Livelihood without labour The Ghuzz raiders and the two Notables The Grammarian and the Boat- man The Gardener and the Three Friends The Monk in search of a Man The Ecstasy of Bayazid

THE TREASURE HOUSE OF EASTERN STORY UNDER THE DIRECTORSHIP OF SIR E. DENISON ROSS HITOPADESA A Book of Wholesome Counsel A Translation from the original Sanskrit by Francis Johnson: revised and in part re-written with an Introduction by Lionel D. Barnett, M.A., Litt.D. STORIES FROM SA‘DI’S BUSTAN AND GULISTAN Stories from the Bustdn of Shaykh Sa‘df together with selections from Francis Gladwin’s translation of Sa‘d{’s Gulistdn, the former translated and the latter re- vised by Reuben Levy, M.A., Lecturer in Persian in the University of Cambridge. STORIES OF THE BUDDHA Being Selections from the Jataka. With an Introduction by Mrs. Rhys Davids, D.Litt., M.A. Lecturer in Pali and Budd- hism, School of Oriental Studies, Lon- don ; President of the Pali Text Society. THE HISTORY OF HAYY IBN YAQZAN By Abu Bakr Ibn Tufail. Translated from the Arabic by Simon Ockley. Re- vised, with an Introduction by A. S. Fulton, Assistant Keeper in the Depart- ment of Oriental Books and MSS. in the British Museum. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING oe cece cage eget e ects es TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING being Selections from the Mathnawi of Falal-ud-Din Rimi Translated with an Introduction by R. A. NICHOLSON Sir Thomas Adams’s Professor of Arabic in the University of Cambridge With a Frontispiece by CYNTHIA KENT LONDON CHAPMAN AND HALL LIMITED MCMXXXI Ora 0 0 Ota 0 9 Ot °3 ° fy e i SAN? oP tS oes MS Printed in Great Britain at The Westminster Press, London, W.9 and bound by A. W. Bain & Co., Ltd. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. Introduction page xi The King and the Handmaiden_i The Grocer and the Parrot 13 The Man who flew to Hindustan 15 The Sufi and the Unfaithful Servant 17 The Falcon amongst the Owls 23 The Man who fancied he saw the New Moon 27 The Braggart and the Sheep’s Tail 29 The Three Fishes 32 The Greek and Chinese Artists 36 The Druggist and the Clay-eater 39 The Frozen Snake 41 The Sincere Penitent 46 The Paladin of Qazwin 47 The Greedy Insolvent 50 Joseph and his Guest 56 The Man who trusted the Bear 58 The Thief who said he was a Drummer 61 The Goldsmith who looked ahead 62 Luqman and his Master 64 The Lion and the Beasts of Chase 67 The Sufi and the Empty Wallet 75 XXXTIT. XXXIV. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVITI. XXXVITT. The Difference between Feeling and Thinking page 77 The Gnat and the Wind 78 The Prince who was beaten at Chess by the Court-jester . 82 The Infant Mohammed and the Idols 83 The Siifis who sold the Traveller’s Ass 88 The Four Beggars who wished to buy Grapes 93 Moses and the Shepherd 95 The Cat and the Meat 98 How Bayazid performed the The Arab of the Desert and his Dog 103 The Teacher who imagined he was Iil 105 The Unseen Elephant III Pharaoh and his Magicians 112 The Most Beautiful City 119 The Patience of Luqman 120 How Jesus fled from the Fools 122 The Man who thought he had prayed to God in vain The House built on Hypotheses Sultan Muhammad Khwarazm- shah and the People of Sab- zawar The Man who wished to learn the Language of Beasts and Birds page The Friend who said “‘T’’ Ibrahim Son of Adham The Man who prayed that he might receive his Livelihood without labour The Ghuzz raiders and the two Notables The Grammarian and the Boat- man The Gardener and the Three Friends The Monk in search of a Man The Ecstasy of Bayazid

THE conquest of Persia by the Arabs produced, among other things, an Islamic literature in the Persian language, very different in character from the contemporary Arabic literature (though of course they have much in common), and expressing unmistakably the genius of the gifted race which capta ferum victorem cepit. Of this literature the best part, in every meaning of the phrase, was composed by poets; and for a thousand years Persian poetry has been the chief interpreter of Persian thought to other peoples, both in the East and the West. Its first triumphs were won in the fields of epic and romance. If Firdawsi may not be compared with Homer, the Shahndma nevertheless is a worthy monu- ment to the Heroic Age of Iran, from Jamshid, who “‘gloried and drank deep,” and Rustam, the unwitting slayer of his own son, through Darius and Alexander the Great down to the rise of the Sasanian Empire with Ardashir Babakan and its fall in the reign of Yazdigird. While this great national poem finds admirers in many nations, the romantic masterpieces of Nizami are dis- appointing when translated; the style is too subtle and obscure, the treatment of the subject too conventional, to appeal strongly to us. Meanwhile the art of panegyric had culminated in Anwari, and the quatrain or rubda‘i had estab- lished itself as the vehicle for epigrammatic—in the Greek sense—criticism of life. The collec- tion attributed to Omar Khayyam resembles the Greek Anthology in being the work of various more or less eminent hands, known and un- known, early and late. The extent of Omar’s share in it is uncertain. Very few of the ruba‘tyat can be definitely assigned to him, and a great number of them cannot possibly be his; but, taken together, they present characteristic ideas with such simplicity and elegance that we may excuse Fitzgerald for having made their reputed author by far the most famous and popular of all Persian writers in the Western literary world. Besides epic, romance, panegyric, and epigram, there was another type of poetry—the mystical and ethical—which had been gaining ground from the eleventh century onwards, and, after the Mongol Invasion, not only eclipsed its rivals but attained an almost absolute supremacy in its own kind. Drawing inspiration from the religious philosophy of the Siifis, it seeks to shadow forth, in beautiful symbolic imagery, the emanation of all things from God and their ultimate re-union with Him, the longing of the mystic lover for the Beloved, his inward purifi- cation and transformation through suffering, his ecstasies and despairs—and, when the last veil has fallen away, his seeing “‘with the eye of certainty” that there is no “other” and that the Truth is essentially One. We need not discuss here the spiritual love-lyrics and wine-songs which were often chanted, with or without an accompaniment of music, in order to rouse emotion and induce ecstasy, and in some cases were composed with that object. Many Sifis were teachers as well as enthusiasts. In their didactic works the transcendental aspects of the doctrine may occupy an unimportant place or, at least, be combined with ‘‘a loftily inculcated ethical system, which recognises in charity, purity of heart, self-renunciation, and bridling of the passions the necessary conditions of eternal happiness.” Among mathnawis (poems in rhymed couplets) of this class the Hadigatu "l-Hagigat, or “Garden of Truth,” by Sana’ of Ghazna and the Mantiqu ’t-Tayr or “‘Bird- Speech” by ‘Attar of Nishapiir deserve mention on their merits, and also because Jalalu’ddin Rimi, the author of “The Mathnawi” par excellence, regarded Sana’i and ‘Attar as his masters in Siifism.

THE conquest of Persia by the Arabs produced, among other things, an Islamic literature in the Persian language, very different in character from the contemporary Arabic literature (though of course they have much in common), and expressing unmistakably the genius of the gifted race which capta ferum victorem cepit. Of this literature the best part, in every meaning of the phrase, was composed by poets; and for a thousand years Persian poetry has been the chief interpreter of Persian thought to other peoples, both in the East and the West. Its first triumphs were won in the fields of epic and romance. If Firdawsi may not be compared with Homer, the Shahndma nevertheless is a worthy monu- ment to the Heroic Age of Iran, from Jamshid, who “‘gloried and drank deep,” and Rustam, the unwitting slayer of his own son, through Darius and Alexander the Great down to the rise of the Sasanian Empire with Ardashir Babakan and its fall in the reign of Yazdigird. While this great national poem finds admirers in many nations, the romantic masterpieces of Nizami are dis- appointing when translated; the style is too subtle and obscure, the treatment of the subject too conventional, to appeal strongly to us. Meanwhile the art of panegyric had culminated in Anwari, and the quatrain or rubda‘i had estab- lished itself as the vehicle for epigrammatic—in the Greek sense—criticism of life. The collec- tion attributed to Omar Khayyam resembles the Greek Anthology in being the work of various more or less eminent hands, known and un- known, early and late. The extent of Omar’s share in it is uncertain. Very few of the ruba‘tyat can be definitely assigned to him, and a great number of them cannot possibly be his; but, taken together, they present characteristic ideas with such simplicity and elegance that we may excuse Fitzgerald for having made their reputed author by far the most famous and popular of all Persian writers in the Western literary world. Besides epic, romance, panegyric, and epigram, there was another type of poetry—the mystical and ethical—which had been gaining ground from the eleventh century onwards, and, after the Mongol Invasion, not only eclipsed its rivals but attained an almost absolute supremacy in its own kind. Drawing inspiration from the religious philosophy of the Siifis, it seeks to shadow forth, in beautiful symbolic imagery, the emanation of all things from God and their ultimate re-union with Him, the longing of the mystic lover for the Beloved, his inward purifi- cation and transformation through suffering, his ecstasies and despairs—and, when the last veil has fallen away, his seeing “‘with the eye of certainty” that there is no “other” and that the Truth is essentially One. We need not discuss here the spiritual love-lyrics and wine-songs which were often chanted, with or without an accompaniment of music, in order to rouse emotion and induce ecstasy, and in some cases were composed with that object. Many Sifis were teachers as well as enthusiasts. In their didactic works the transcendental aspects of the doctrine may occupy an unimportant place or, at least, be combined with ‘‘a loftily inculcated ethical system, which recognises in charity, purity of heart, self-renunciation, and bridling of the passions the necessary conditions of eternal happiness.” Among mathnawis (poems in rhymed couplets) of this class the Hadigatu "l-Hagigat, or “Garden of Truth,” by Sana’ of Ghazna and the Mantiqu ’t-Tayr or “‘Bird- Speech” by ‘Attar of Nishapiir deserve mention on their merits, and also because Jalalu’ddin Rimi, the author of “The Mathnawi” par excellence, regarded Sana’i and ‘Attar as his masters in Siifism.

Born at Balkh in 1207, Jalalu’ddin belonged to a family claiming descent from the Caliph Abi Bakr and allied with the royal house of Khwarazm (Khiva), his grandfather having married a daughter of Sultan Muhammad Khwiarazmshah. In 1206 this monarch annexed Balkh to his empire. At that time he was a zealous Sunni, and he is so described in one of the stories in the Mathnawi (see p. 128 infra); but soon afterwards he embraced the Shi'ite heresy, a step that must have been bitterly re- sented by the orthodox citizens of Balkh, in- cluding the poet’s father, Baha’u’ddin Walad, a man distinguished for piety and learning. We are told that Baha’u’ddin incurred the wrath of Khwarazmshah and left the city, accompanied by his family, when Jalalu’ddin was still a child. After long wanderings, in the course of which they visited Baghdad, Mecca, and Damascus, the exiles arrived in Riim (Asia Minor), and finally settled at Qoniya (Iconium) under the protection of the Seljiiq Sultan ‘Ala’u’ddin Kayqubad. Here Jalalu’ddin spent the last fifty years of his life, whence he is known as ‘‘Riimi.”’ He died in 1273, leaving two sons and a daughter. If one can scarcely think of Plato without Socrates, still less is it possible to separate Jalalu’ddin Rimi from Shams-i Tabriz, the mysterious dervish under whose name he pub- lished his Diwan and with whom he identified himself so intimately that the very existence of his alter ego has been doubted, in my opinion unwarrantably. The history of Sifism affords many examples of enthusiastic friendship be- tween teachers and disciples, and the Mathnawi shows that after the death of Shams-i Tabriz the poet stood in a similar mystic relation to Husamu’ddin Chelebi, who succeeded him as Head of the Mevlevi Order of Dervishes—the Order founded by Jalalu’ddin in memory, it is said, of Shams-1 Tabriz, with “‘their tall drab- coloured felt hats and wide cloaks,” their reed- flutes and rebecks, and their whirling dance. It was a wild flock that he and the inner group of saintly men who gathered round him at Qoniya were called upon to shepherd. Such a task demanded immense energy, experience, and knowledge of the world. That he composed most of his poetry while engaged in organising and directing the affairs of a great Brotherhood would be incredible if we did not know, from St. Paul, for instance, what strength is given by the union of deep mystical faith with an intense and creative personality. The Mathnawit, frequently described as the Qur’an-i Pahlawi or Qur’dn of Persia, belongs to the last period of his life, and was begun at the request of his favourite disciple, Husa- mu’ddin Chelebi, who acted as amanuensis. Its six Books were composed at intervals during approximately fifteen years, and in the oldest manuscripts amount to rather less than 26,000 verses; in the Persian and Indian editions this total is greatly increased by interpolations. The author died before finishing the Sixth Book. The so-called Seventh Book was added in the seventeenth century by Isma‘il Anqiravi, who wrote a Turkish commentary on the poem. Books I and II have been translated by Sir James Redhouse: and Dr. C. E. Wilson’ re- spectively, and a complete version by the present writer is in course of publication.” The contents 1 The Mesnevi of Mevland Felalu’d-din Muhammed er- Rimi. Book the First. . Translated and the poetry versi- fied by Fames W. Redhouse. (London, 1881.) * The Masnavi by falalu’d-din Rimi. Book II translated for the first time from the Persian into prose, with a Commentary,

Born at Balkh in 1207, Jalalu’ddin belonged to a family claiming descent from the Caliph Abi Bakr and allied with the royal house of Khwarazm (Khiva), his grandfather having married a daughter of Sultan Muhammad Khwiarazmshah. In 1206 this monarch annexed Balkh to his empire. At that time he was a zealous Sunni, and he is so described in one of the stories in the Mathnawi (see p. 128 infra); but soon afterwards he embraced the Shi'ite heresy, a step that must have been bitterly re- sented by the orthodox citizens of Balkh, in- cluding the poet’s father, Baha’u’ddin Walad, a man distinguished for piety and learning. We are told that Baha’u’ddin incurred the wrath of Khwarazmshah and left the city, accompanied by his family, when Jalalu’ddin was still a child. After long wanderings, in the course of which they visited Baghdad, Mecca, and Damascus, the exiles arrived in Riim (Asia Minor), and finally settled at Qoniya (Iconium) under the protection of the Seljiiq Sultan ‘Ala’u’ddin Kayqubad. Here Jalalu’ddin spent the last fifty years of his life, whence he is known as ‘‘Riimi.”’ He died in 1273, leaving two sons and a daughter. If one can scarcely think of Plato without Socrates, still less is it possible to separate Jalalu’ddin Rimi from Shams-i Tabriz, the mysterious dervish under whose name he pub- lished his Diwan and with whom he identified himself so intimately that the very existence of his alter ego has been doubted, in my opinion unwarrantably. The history of Sifism affords many examples of enthusiastic friendship be- tween teachers and disciples, and the Mathnawi shows that after the death of Shams-i Tabriz the poet stood in a similar mystic relation to Husamu’ddin Chelebi, who succeeded him as Head of the Mevlevi Order of Dervishes—the Order founded by Jalalu’ddin in memory, it is said, of Shams-1 Tabriz, with “‘their tall drab- coloured felt hats and wide cloaks,” their reed- flutes and rebecks, and their whirling dance. It was a wild flock that he and the inner group of saintly men who gathered round him at Qoniya were called upon to shepherd. Such a task demanded immense energy, experience, and knowledge of the world. That he composed most of his poetry while engaged in organising and directing the affairs of a great Brotherhood would be incredible if we did not know, from St. Paul, for instance, what strength is given by the union of deep mystical faith with an intense and creative personality. The Mathnawit, frequently described as the Qur’an-i Pahlawi or Qur’dn of Persia, belongs to the last period of his life, and was begun at the request of his favourite disciple, Husa- mu’ddin Chelebi, who acted as amanuensis. Its six Books were composed at intervals during approximately fifteen years, and in the oldest manuscripts amount to rather less than 26,000 verses; in the Persian and Indian editions this total is greatly increased by interpolations. The author died before finishing the Sixth Book. The so-called Seventh Book was added in the seventeenth century by Isma‘il Anqiravi, who wrote a Turkish commentary on the poem. Books I and II have been translated by Sir James Redhouse: and Dr. C. E. Wilson’ re- spectively, and a complete version by the present writer is in course of publication.” The contents 1 The Mesnevi of Mevland Felalu’d-din Muhammed er- Rimi. Book the First. . Translated and the poetry versi- fied by Fames W. Redhouse. (London, 1881.) * The Masnavi by falalu’d-din Rimi. Book II translated for the first time from the Persian into prose, with a Commentary,

by C’. E. Wilson. (London, 1 * The Mathnawi of Wade didn Rimi. Edited from the of the work are excellently summarised by E. H. Whinfield.* With all its faults—and from a modern point of view they are many—the Mathnawi exhibits, more fully than the Diwdn-1 Shams-i Tabriz, the marvellous range of Jala- lu’ddin’s poetical genius. His Odes reach the utmost heights of which a poetry inspired by vision and rapture is capable, and these alone would have made him the unchallenged laureate of Mysticism. But they move in a world remote from ordinary experience, open to none but “the unveiled,” whereas the Mathnawi is chiefly concerned with problems and _ speculations bearing on the conduct, use, and meaning of Life. While the Odes depict Reality as reflected in the clairvoyant consciousness of the Saint, the Mathnawi represents the Saint not only as a mirror of Reality, but also as a personage invested with Divine authority and power, an indis- pensable Guide on the Way to God, a Physician who can diagnose and cure diseases of the oldest manuscripts available, with critical notes, translation and commentary, by R. A. Nicholson. E. ¥. W. Gibb Memorial Fund, New Series, IV. (London and Leiden, 1925—.) 1 Masnavi-t Ma‘navi, the Spiritual Couplets of Manlana Jalalu’d-din Muhammed Rimi, translated and abridged by E. H. Whinfield. (London, 1887; 2nd ed., 1898.) soul, a Preacher of the Truth and a Teacher of the Law—the law of reverent obedience, through which “Heaven was filled with light and the Angels became pure and holy.” Pro- fessing to expound the esoteric doctrine of the Qur’an, this vast rambling discourse provides instruction and entertainment for all seekers. Few would care to read it through; but every- one can find in it something to suit his taste, from abstruse and recondite theories of mystical philosophy to anecdotes of a certain kind, which are told in the plainest terms possible. Although the work as a whole lacks any comprehensive plan, the subjects treated in each Book are logically connected; so many digressions, how- ever, intervene that the most attentive reader will often lose the thread of the argument. This is not the place to consider the author’s ideas in detail. He may be called a Pantheist, with the reservation that at times he uses language in- consistent with Pantheism and implying belief in a personal God: he seems to have held the one and the other view as higher and lower aspects of the same Truth. The full pantheistic doctrine is for the spiritually perfect, not for the self-indulgent who draw immoral inferences from it. So far as the “swine” are concerned, Jalalu’ddin, instead of casting his pearls before them, recognises evil and sin as positive facts and asserts that men are the willing slaves of passion and therefore responsible for the wicked- ness they commit. They suffer tribulation and punishment inflicted by Divine justice; yet as His Mercy preceded His Wrath in the begin- ning, so shall it prevail in the end. The moral and mystical teaching of the Mathnawi is centred in Love. If even an earthly love can purify the soul, how much greater must be the power of the Love that leaves “nothing of myself in me”! By developing this principle the poet shows that all partial evil is universal good; that the antithesis of freedom and necessity disappears in harmony of will; and that a religious faith resting on conventional beliefs or intellectual evidences has no value whatever.

by C’. E. Wilson. (London, 1 * The Mathnawi of Wade didn Rimi. Edited from the of the work are excellently summarised by E. H. Whinfield.* With all its faults—and from a modern point of view they are many—the Mathnawi exhibits, more fully than the Diwdn-1 Shams-i Tabriz, the marvellous range of Jala- lu’ddin’s poetical genius. His Odes reach the utmost heights of which a poetry inspired by vision and rapture is capable, and these alone would have made him the unchallenged laureate of Mysticism. But they move in a world remote from ordinary experience, open to none but “the unveiled,” whereas the Mathnawi is chiefly concerned with problems and _ speculations bearing on the conduct, use, and meaning of Life. While the Odes depict Reality as reflected in the clairvoyant consciousness of the Saint, the Mathnawi represents the Saint not only as a mirror of Reality, but also as a personage invested with Divine authority and power, an indis- pensable Guide on the Way to God, a Physician who can diagnose and cure diseases of the oldest manuscripts available, with critical notes, translation and commentary, by R. A. Nicholson. E. ¥. W. Gibb Memorial Fund, New Series, IV. (London and Leiden, 1925—.) 1 Masnavi-t Ma‘navi, the Spiritual Couplets of Manlana Jalalu’d-din Muhammed Rimi, translated and abridged by E. H. Whinfield. (London, 1887; 2nd ed., 1898.) soul, a Preacher of the Truth and a Teacher of the Law—the law of reverent obedience, through which “Heaven was filled with light and the Angels became pure and holy.” Pro- fessing to expound the esoteric doctrine of the Qur’an, this vast rambling discourse provides instruction and entertainment for all seekers. Few would care to read it through; but every- one can find in it something to suit his taste, from abstruse and recondite theories of mystical philosophy to anecdotes of a certain kind, which are told in the plainest terms possible. Although the work as a whole lacks any comprehensive plan, the subjects treated in each Book are logically connected; so many digressions, how- ever, intervene that the most attentive reader will often lose the thread of the argument. This is not the place to consider the author’s ideas in detail. He may be called a Pantheist, with the reservation that at times he uses language in- consistent with Pantheism and implying belief in a personal God: he seems to have held the one and the other view as higher and lower aspects of the same Truth. The full pantheistic doctrine is for the spiritually perfect, not for the self-indulgent who draw immoral inferences from it. So far as the “swine” are concerned, Jalalu’ddin, instead of casting his pearls before them, recognises evil and sin as positive facts and asserts that men are the willing slaves of passion and therefore responsible for the wicked- ness they commit. They suffer tribulation and punishment inflicted by Divine justice; yet as His Mercy preceded His Wrath in the begin- ning, so shall it prevail in the end. The moral and mystical teaching of the Mathnawi is centred in Love. If even an earthly love can purify the soul, how much greater must be the power of the Love that leaves “nothing of myself in me”! By developing this principle the poet shows that all partial evil is universal good; that the antithesis of freedom and necessity disappears in harmony of will; and that a religious faith resting on conventional beliefs or intellectual evidences has no value whatever.

Allegory, the hard-worked handmaid of Mysticism, can claim Siifi literature as her capital province, in which all her features— sublime, exquisite, fantastic, and grotesque— are represented on the most imposing scale. Though much of the symbolism may be found elsewhere, a great deal is peculiar and unique, so that the writings in which it occurs seldom impart their real significance except to those who possess the key to the cipher, while the uninitiated will either understand them literally or not at all. But allegory may also be employed, in the form of fables, anecdotes, apologues, and parables, for the purpose of exposition and illustration; and here it serves, not as a mask or secret code, but as a means of teaching moral and mystical truths by leading the disciple through the familiar to the strange, through the seen to the unseen, through the letter to the spirit. Following, or rather adapting to his own needs, a method long established in Siifi poetry, Jalalu’ddin sets the matter of his discourse within a framework of Tales, which introduce and exemplify the various topics and are fre- quently interwoven with explanations of their inner meaning. These explanations in their turn may suggest other Tales, which demand fresh explanations, and so it goes on till the original Tale is concluded, when the same process be- gins over again. The Mathnauwi is a grand Story- book. There are several hundreds of stories, comprising specimens in almost every genre, and no one can accuse the author of lacking invention or fail to admire the easy power with which he moulds his raw material into whatever shape he will. As might be expected, the largest class consists of legends from the Qur’dn and its Commentaries, the Traditions of the Prophet, and the Lives of pre-Mohammedan prophets and Muslim saints. Kalila and Dimna, the Arabic version of the Sanskrit Pancha-tantra, supplies numerous Beast Fables, where the animals play the allegorical parts assigned to them. Jalalu’ddin borrows much but owes little: he makes his own everything that comes to hand. The First Story in the poem is taken from Ibn Sina (Avicenna); others can be traced back to Sana’1, Nizami, and ‘Attar; and probably a large number were contributed by popular collections of anecdotes like the Fawdmui‘u I- Mikayat of ‘Awfi. What precisely these literary: sources were, and how far they cover the whole ground, is a question that has yet to be investi- gated. It is likely, I think, that some, perhaps many, of the Tales belong to the miscellaneous stock of “‘wandering’”’ stories carried to and fro by dervishes and other travellers, in which case the author may have put them into verse from memory. The Tales themselves, as distinguished from the doctrinal exegesis with its accompanying reflections, exhortations, and arguments, occupy a comparatively small space. Nor will the reader find in them what often makes the Mathnawi supreme poetry—lofty and sustained flights of imagination, or passages in which the fervour of the poet’s eloquence and the fullness and rapidity of his thought remind one of a fire

Allegory, the hard-worked handmaid of Mysticism, can claim Siifi literature as her capital province, in which all her features— sublime, exquisite, fantastic, and grotesque— are represented on the most imposing scale. Though much of the symbolism may be found elsewhere, a great deal is peculiar and unique, so that the writings in which it occurs seldom impart their real significance except to those who possess the key to the cipher, while the uninitiated will either understand them literally or not at all. But allegory may also be employed, in the form of fables, anecdotes, apologues, and parables, for the purpose of exposition and illustration; and here it serves, not as a mask or secret code, but as a means of teaching moral and mystical truths by leading the disciple through the familiar to the strange, through the seen to the unseen, through the letter to the spirit. Following, or rather adapting to his own needs, a method long established in Siifi poetry, Jalalu’ddin sets the matter of his discourse within a framework of Tales, which introduce and exemplify the various topics and are fre- quently interwoven with explanations of their inner meaning. These explanations in their turn may suggest other Tales, which demand fresh explanations, and so it goes on till the original Tale is concluded, when the same process be- gins over again. The Mathnauwi is a grand Story- book. There are several hundreds of stories, comprising specimens in almost every genre, and no one can accuse the author of lacking invention or fail to admire the easy power with which he moulds his raw material into whatever shape he will. As might be expected, the largest class consists of legends from the Qur’dn and its Commentaries, the Traditions of the Prophet, and the Lives of pre-Mohammedan prophets and Muslim saints. Kalila and Dimna, the Arabic version of the Sanskrit Pancha-tantra, supplies numerous Beast Fables, where the animals play the allegorical parts assigned to them. Jalalu’ddin borrows much but owes little: he makes his own everything that comes to hand. The First Story in the poem is taken from Ibn Sina (Avicenna); others can be traced back to Sana’1, Nizami, and ‘Attar; and probably a large number were contributed by popular collections of anecdotes like the Fawdmui‘u I- Mikayat of ‘Awfi. What precisely these literary: sources were, and how far they cover the whole ground, is a question that has yet to be investi- gated. It is likely, I think, that some, perhaps many, of the Tales belong to the miscellaneous stock of “‘wandering’”’ stories carried to and fro by dervishes and other travellers, in which case the author may have put them into verse from memory. The Tales themselves, as distinguished from the doctrinal exegesis with its accompanying reflections, exhortations, and arguments, occupy a comparatively small space. Nor will the reader find in them what often makes the Mathnawi supreme poetry—lofty and sustained flights of imagination, or passages in which the fervour of the poet’s eloquence and the fullness and rapidity of his thought remind one of a fire

leaping forward and kindling itself by the im- petus of its flames. But such qualities are not in keeping with narrative, and the Tales have their proper merits. Their direct semi-colloquial style, rising to dignity where the subject re- quires it, contrasts favourably with the artificial diction of most Persian verse. They abound in lively dialogue, masterly satiric and humorous descriptions of human nature, pictures of life and manners illustrating the outlook not only of medieval Siifism but of Muslims generally, and lessons of universal application drawn from a wisdom that never plays on the surface without contemplating the hidden depths below. Great poet as he is, Jalalu’ddin loves Truth more than Art. In his Odes the tide of enthu- siasm sweeps all moralities before it, in the Mathnawi he rubs them in with a persistence which renders selection and abridgment neces- sary. “Listen to this Story,” he says, “‘for ’tis the very marrow of thy inward state”—mutato nomine de te fabula narratur; but, unlike Horace, he does not know when to stop. Even his jocularia, some of which are far from edify- ing, turn themselves into ethical homilies or philosophical discourses. Still, the Tales are: worth reading, husk, kernel and all. One feels that the Master enjoyed making them and that his disciples (whom he occasionally rebukes for being impatient to hear the rest of the story) must have enjoyed them too. The following fifty-one Stories are a fair sample of the Mathnawi on the side from which the best general view of its spirit and character can be obtained by readers approaching it for the first time. All these versions except two are in prose, and are based upon the text and literal translation already published in the E. J. W. Gibb Memorial Series as far as the end of the Fourth Book; they also include a few short anecdotes from Book V. The force and savour of the Mathnawi would be lost in a paraphrase, and though I have modified here and there my complete translation, which is intended for students, the changes hardly affect its closeness to the original. I have tried to present the Tales attractively as well as faithfully. Their variety and interest become more apparent when they are arranged without regard to their position and sequence in the Six Books. Many, especially the longer ones, need pruning and trimming; and I decided to lighten them rather than leave them out altogether. As a rule, the temptation to give extracts has been resisted. No one likes unfinished stories; if the Poet sometimes breaks off in the middle, it is because his audience knew the end. Brief notes have been added, supplementing his own remarks on the allegorical sense and explaining allusions to matters with which only Muslims are usually familiar. A curious and interesting commentary might be written on the Tales. There is no room for it here, and in any case it could not commend them to the reader half so well as has been done by letting them speak for themselves. I THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN®" Inoldentimethere was a Kingto whom belonged the power temporal and also the power spiritual. It chanced that one day he rode with his cour- tiers to the chase. On the king’s highway the King espied 2 Handmaiden: the soul of the King was en- thralled by her. Forasmuch as the bird, his soul, was fluttering in its cage, he gave money and bought the Handmaiden. After he had bought her and won to his desire, by Divine destiny she sickened.

leaping forward and kindling itself by the im- petus of its flames. But such qualities are not in keeping with narrative, and the Tales have their proper merits. Their direct semi-colloquial style, rising to dignity where the subject re- quires it, contrasts favourably with the artificial diction of most Persian verse. They abound in lively dialogue, masterly satiric and humorous descriptions of human nature, pictures of life and manners illustrating the outlook not only of medieval Siifism but of Muslims generally, and lessons of universal application drawn from a wisdom that never plays on the surface without contemplating the hidden depths below. Great poet as he is, Jalalu’ddin loves Truth more than Art. In his Odes the tide of enthu- siasm sweeps all moralities before it, in the Mathnawi he rubs them in with a persistence which renders selection and abridgment neces- sary. “Listen to this Story,” he says, “‘for ’tis the very marrow of thy inward state”—mutato nomine de te fabula narratur; but, unlike Horace, he does not know when to stop. Even his jocularia, some of which are far from edify- ing, turn themselves into ethical homilies or philosophical discourses. Still, the Tales are: worth reading, husk, kernel and all. One feels that the Master enjoyed making them and that his disciples (whom he occasionally rebukes for being impatient to hear the rest of the story) must have enjoyed them too. The following fifty-one Stories are a fair sample of the Mathnawi on the side from which the best general view of its spirit and character can be obtained by readers approaching it for the first time. All these versions except two are in prose, and are based upon the text and literal translation already published in the E. J. W. Gibb Memorial Series as far as the end of the Fourth Book; they also include a few short anecdotes from Book V. The force and savour of the Mathnawi would be lost in a paraphrase, and though I have modified here and there my complete translation, which is intended for students, the changes hardly affect its closeness to the original. I have tried to present the Tales attractively as well as faithfully. Their variety and interest become more apparent when they are arranged without regard to their position and sequence in the Six Books. Many, especially the longer ones, need pruning and trimming; and I decided to lighten them rather than leave them out altogether. As a rule, the temptation to give extracts has been resisted. No one likes unfinished stories; if the Poet sometimes breaks off in the middle, it is because his audience knew the end. Brief notes have been added, supplementing his own remarks on the allegorical sense and explaining allusions to matters with which only Muslims are usually familiar. A curious and interesting commentary might be written on the Tales. There is no room for it here, and in any case it could not commend them to the reader half so well as has been done by letting them speak for themselves. I THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN®" Inoldentimethere was a Kingto whom belonged the power temporal and also the power spiritual. It chanced that one day he rode with his cour- tiers to the chase. On the king’s highway the King espied 2 Handmaiden: the soul of the King was en- thralled by her. Forasmuch as the bird, his soul, was fluttering in its cage, he gave money and bought the Handmaiden. After he had bought her and won to his desire, by Divine destiny she sickened.

The King gathered the physicians together from left and right and said to them, “‘The life of us both is in your hands. My life is of no account, but she is the life of my life. I am in pain and wounded: she is my remedy. * Book I, v. 36 foll. The allegory is plain enough. The King typifies the rational spirit; the Handmaiden in love with the Goldsmith is the soul enamoured of worldly pleasure; the Physician, who by poisoning the Goldsmith cures the Handmaiden of her passion, is the divinely in- spired Saint. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING Whoever heals her that is my life will bear away with him my treasure and pearls, large and small.” They all answered him, saying, “We will hazard our lives and summon all our skill and put it into the common stock. 7 Each one of us is the Messiah of a multi- tude:? in our hands is a medicine for every pain.” In their arrogance they did not say, “If God will”; therefore God showed unto them the weakness of Man. The more cures and remedies they applied, the more did the illness increase, and their need was not fulfilled. The sick girl became thin as a hair, while the eyes of the King flowed with tears of blood, like a river. How it became manifest to the King that the physicians were unable to cure the Handmaiden, and how he turned his face towards God and dreamed of a holy man. When the King saw the powerlessness of those physicians, he ran bare-footed to the mosque. 1 Or, according to the oldest MS., “each one of us is a learned Messiah.”’ The Maszh, of course, is Jesus, who says in the Qur’dn, iti, 43, “I will heal the blind from birth and anf leper, and I will bring the dead to life by permission of Allah.” THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN He entered the mosque and advanced to the mihrab to pray: the prayer-carpet was bathed in the King’s tears. On coming to himself out of the flood of ecstasy he opened his lips in goodly praise and laud, Saying, ““O Thou whose least gift is the empire of the world, what shall I say? for Thou knowest the hidden thing. O Thou with whom we always take refuge in our need, once again we have lost the way; But Thou hast said, ‘Albeit I know thy secret, nevertheless declare it in thine outward act.’ ”” When from the depths of his soul he raised a cry of supplication, the sea of Bounty began to surge. Slumber overtook him in the midst of weep- ing: he dreamed that an old man appeared And said, “Good tidings, O King! Thy prayers are granted. If to-morrow a stranger come to thee, he is from me. He is the skilled physician: deem him veracious, for he is trusty and true. In his remedy behold absolute magic, in his nature behold the might of God!” 1 The niche indicating the direction of Mecca. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING The meeting of the King with the divine Physician whose coming had been announced to him in a dream. When the promised hour arrived and day broke and the sun, rising from the east, began to burn the stars, The King was in the belvedere, expecting to see that which had been shown mysteriously. He saw a person excellent and worshipful, a sun amidst a shadow,

The King gathered the physicians together from left and right and said to them, “‘The life of us both is in your hands. My life is of no account, but she is the life of my life. I am in pain and wounded: she is my remedy. * Book I, v. 36 foll. The allegory is plain enough. The King typifies the rational spirit; the Handmaiden in love with the Goldsmith is the soul enamoured of worldly pleasure; the Physician, who by poisoning the Goldsmith cures the Handmaiden of her passion, is the divinely in- spired Saint. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING Whoever heals her that is my life will bear away with him my treasure and pearls, large and small.” They all answered him, saying, “We will hazard our lives and summon all our skill and put it into the common stock. 7 Each one of us is the Messiah of a multi- tude:? in our hands is a medicine for every pain.” In their arrogance they did not say, “If God will”; therefore God showed unto them the weakness of Man. The more cures and remedies they applied, the more did the illness increase, and their need was not fulfilled. The sick girl became thin as a hair, while the eyes of the King flowed with tears of blood, like a river. How it became manifest to the King that the physicians were unable to cure the Handmaiden, and how he turned his face towards God and dreamed of a holy man. When the King saw the powerlessness of those physicians, he ran bare-footed to the mosque. 1 Or, according to the oldest MS., “each one of us is a learned Messiah.”’ The Maszh, of course, is Jesus, who says in the Qur’dn, iti, 43, “I will heal the blind from birth and anf leper, and I will bring the dead to life by permission of Allah.” THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN He entered the mosque and advanced to the mihrab to pray: the prayer-carpet was bathed in the King’s tears. On coming to himself out of the flood of ecstasy he opened his lips in goodly praise and laud, Saying, ““O Thou whose least gift is the empire of the world, what shall I say? for Thou knowest the hidden thing. O Thou with whom we always take refuge in our need, once again we have lost the way; But Thou hast said, ‘Albeit I know thy secret, nevertheless declare it in thine outward act.’ ”” When from the depths of his soul he raised a cry of supplication, the sea of Bounty began to surge. Slumber overtook him in the midst of weep- ing: he dreamed that an old man appeared And said, “Good tidings, O King! Thy prayers are granted. If to-morrow a stranger come to thee, he is from me. He is the skilled physician: deem him veracious, for he is trusty and true. In his remedy behold absolute magic, in his nature behold the might of God!” 1 The niche indicating the direction of Mecca. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING The meeting of the King with the divine Physician whose coming had been announced to him in a dream. When the promised hour arrived and day broke and the sun, rising from the east, began to burn the stars, The King was in the belvedere, expecting to see that which had been shown mysteriously. He saw a person excellent and worshipful, a sun amidst a shadow,

Coming from afar, like the new moon in slender- ness and radiance: he was non-existent,’ though existent in the form of phantasy. In the stranger’s countenance the King dis- cerned the phantom which he had beheld in his dream. He himself, instead of the chamberlains, went forward to meet his guest from the In- visible. Both were seamen who had learned to swim, the souls of both were knit together without sewing. , The King said, “Thou wert my Beloved in reality, not she; but in this world one action arises from another. O thou who art to me as Mustafa,’ while I 14.e.1n the material world. 7 Mohammed. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN am like unto ‘Umar’—I will gird my loins to do thee service.” The King opened his hands and clasped him to his breast and received him, like love, into his heart and soul, And kissed his hand and brow and inquired concerning his home and journey. So with many a question he led him to the place of honour. “At last,” he said, ‘“‘I have found a treasure by being patient. O gift from God and defence against trouble, O thou who art the meaning of ‘Patience is the key to joy,’ O thou whose countenance is the answer to every question, by thee hard knots are loosed without discussion. Thou readest all that is in our hearts, thou givest.a helping hand to everyone whose foot is in the mire.”’ How the King led the Physician to the bedside of the sick girl, that he might see her condition. When that meeting and bounteous spiritual repast was over, he took his hand and con- ducted him to the harem. He rehearsed the tale of the invalid and her sickness and then seated him beside her. The Physician observed the colour of her 1 The second Caliph. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING face and felt her pulse; he heard both the symptoms and the circumstances of her malady. He said, “None of the remedies which they have applied builds up health; those false physicians have wrought destruction. They were ignorant of the inward state. I seek refuge with God from that which they devise.” He saw the pain, and the secret became open to him, but he concealed it and did not tell the King. Her pain was not caused by black or yellow bile: the smell of every firewood appears from the smoke. From her sore grief he perceived that she was heart-sore ; well in body but stricken in heart. Being in love is made manifest by soreness of heart: there is no sickness like heart-sickness. The lover’s ailment is separate from all other ail- ments: Loveistheastrolabeof divine mysteries. Whether Love be from this side or from that,’ in the end it leads us Yonder. How the Physician demanded of the King to be alone with the Handmaiden for the purpose of discovering her malady. He said, “O King, make the house empty; send away both kinsfolk and strangers. 13.e. earthly or heavenly. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN Let no one listen in the entrance-halls, that I may ask certain things of this handmaiden.” The house was left empty, not one inhabitant remained, nobody save the Physician and the sick girl. Very gently he asked, “Where is thy native town? for the treatment suitable to the people of each town is different. | And in that town who is related to thee? With whom hast thou kinship and affinity?” She disclosed to the Physician many things touching her home and former masters and fellow-townsmen,

Coming from afar, like the new moon in slender- ness and radiance: he was non-existent,’ though existent in the form of phantasy. In the stranger’s countenance the King dis- cerned the phantom which he had beheld in his dream. He himself, instead of the chamberlains, went forward to meet his guest from the In- visible. Both were seamen who had learned to swim, the souls of both were knit together without sewing. , The King said, “Thou wert my Beloved in reality, not she; but in this world one action arises from another. O thou who art to me as Mustafa,’ while I 14.e.1n the material world. 7 Mohammed. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN am like unto ‘Umar’—I will gird my loins to do thee service.” The King opened his hands and clasped him to his breast and received him, like love, into his heart and soul, And kissed his hand and brow and inquired concerning his home and journey. So with many a question he led him to the place of honour. “At last,” he said, ‘“‘I have found a treasure by being patient. O gift from God and defence against trouble, O thou who art the meaning of ‘Patience is the key to joy,’ O thou whose countenance is the answer to every question, by thee hard knots are loosed without discussion. Thou readest all that is in our hearts, thou givest.a helping hand to everyone whose foot is in the mire.”’ How the King led the Physician to the bedside of the sick girl, that he might see her condition. When that meeting and bounteous spiritual repast was over, he took his hand and con- ducted him to the harem. He rehearsed the tale of the invalid and her sickness and then seated him beside her. The Physician observed the colour of her 1 The second Caliph. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING face and felt her pulse; he heard both the symptoms and the circumstances of her malady. He said, “None of the remedies which they have applied builds up health; those false physicians have wrought destruction. They were ignorant of the inward state. I seek refuge with God from that which they devise.” He saw the pain, and the secret became open to him, but he concealed it and did not tell the King. Her pain was not caused by black or yellow bile: the smell of every firewood appears from the smoke. From her sore grief he perceived that she was heart-sore ; well in body but stricken in heart. Being in love is made manifest by soreness of heart: there is no sickness like heart-sickness. The lover’s ailment is separate from all other ail- ments: Loveistheastrolabeof divine mysteries. Whether Love be from this side or from that,’ in the end it leads us Yonder. How the Physician demanded of the King to be alone with the Handmaiden for the purpose of discovering her malady. He said, “O King, make the house empty; send away both kinsfolk and strangers. 13.e. earthly or heavenly. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN Let no one listen in the entrance-halls, that I may ask certain things of this handmaiden.” The house was left empty, not one inhabitant remained, nobody save the Physician and the sick girl. Very gently he asked, “Where is thy native town? for the treatment suitable to the people of each town is different. | And in that town who is related to thee? With whom hast thou kinship and affinity?” She disclosed to the Physician many things touching her home and former masters and fellow-townsmen,

And he, while listening to her story, continued to observe her pulse and its beating, So that, if it throbbed at anyone’s name, he might know who was the object of her desire in the world. She told of many a town and many a house, and still no vein of her quivered nor did her cheek grow pale. Her pulse kept its wonted time, unimpaired, till he asked about sweet Samarcand. Then it jumped, and her face went red and pale by turns, for she had been parted from a man of Samarcand, a Goldsmith. When the Physician found out this secret from the sick girl, he perceived the source of that grief and woe. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING He asked, “In which quarter of the town does he dwell?” “‘Sar-i Pul (Bridge-head),” she replied, “and Ghatafar Street.”’ “I know,” said he, “‘what your illness is, and I will at once display the arts of magic in de- livering you. Be glad and care-free and have no fear, for I will do to you that which rain does to the meadow. I will be anxious for you, be not you anxious: I am kinder to you than a hundred fathers. Beware! tell not this secret to anyone, not though the King himself should make much Let your heart become the grave of your secret, the sooner will your desire be gained. When seeds are hidden in the earth, their in- ward secret becomes the verdure of the garden.” How the King sent messengers to Samarcand to fetch the Goldsmith. Then he arose and went to the King and ac- quainted him with a part of the matter. “The best plan,” said he, “is that we should bring the man here for the purpose of curing this malady. Summon the Goldsmith from that far coun- THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN try; beguile him with gold and robes of honour.”’ The King sent thither two messengers, clever men and competent and very just. To Samarcand came the two messengers for the Goldsmith debonair and wanton, Saying, “‘O fine master, perfect in knowledge, thy perfection is famous in all lands. Lo, such and such a King hath chosen thee for thy skill in the goldsmith’s craft, because thou art eminent. Look now, receive these robes of honour and gold and silver: when thou comest to the King, thou wilt be his favourite and boon companion.”’ The man saw the much wealth and the many robes: he was beguiled, he parted from his town and children. Blithely he set out on the road, unaware that the King had formed a design against his life. He mounted an Arab horse and sped on joy- ously: he deemed a robe of honour what really was the price of his blood. O fool, so willingly with thine own feet to enter on the journey to thy doom! In his fancy were dreams of riches, power, and lordship. Said Azrael," ‘Go thy way: yes, thou wilt get them!” * The Angel of Death. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING Proudly and delicately they conducted him to the King, that he might burn like a moth on that candle of Taraz.’ The King beheld him, showed great regard for him, and entrusted to him the treasure house full of gold. Then the Physician said, ““O mighty Sultan, give thy handmaiden to this master, That she may be happy with him and that the water of union may quench the fire of passion.” The King bestowed on him that moon-faced one and wedded the twain who craved each other’s company.

And he, while listening to her story, continued to observe her pulse and its beating, So that, if it throbbed at anyone’s name, he might know who was the object of her desire in the world. She told of many a town and many a house, and still no vein of her quivered nor did her cheek grow pale. Her pulse kept its wonted time, unimpaired, till he asked about sweet Samarcand. Then it jumped, and her face went red and pale by turns, for she had been parted from a man of Samarcand, a Goldsmith. When the Physician found out this secret from the sick girl, he perceived the source of that grief and woe. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING He asked, “In which quarter of the town does he dwell?” “‘Sar-i Pul (Bridge-head),” she replied, “and Ghatafar Street.”’ “I know,” said he, “‘what your illness is, and I will at once display the arts of magic in de- livering you. Be glad and care-free and have no fear, for I will do to you that which rain does to the meadow. I will be anxious for you, be not you anxious: I am kinder to you than a hundred fathers. Beware! tell not this secret to anyone, not though the King himself should make much Let your heart become the grave of your secret, the sooner will your desire be gained. When seeds are hidden in the earth, their in- ward secret becomes the verdure of the garden.” How the King sent messengers to Samarcand to fetch the Goldsmith. Then he arose and went to the King and ac- quainted him with a part of the matter. “The best plan,” said he, “is that we should bring the man here for the purpose of curing this malady. Summon the Goldsmith from that far coun- THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN try; beguile him with gold and robes of honour.”’ The King sent thither two messengers, clever men and competent and very just. To Samarcand came the two messengers for the Goldsmith debonair and wanton, Saying, “‘O fine master, perfect in knowledge, thy perfection is famous in all lands. Lo, such and such a King hath chosen thee for thy skill in the goldsmith’s craft, because thou art eminent. Look now, receive these robes of honour and gold and silver: when thou comest to the King, thou wilt be his favourite and boon companion.”’ The man saw the much wealth and the many robes: he was beguiled, he parted from his town and children. Blithely he set out on the road, unaware that the King had formed a design against his life. He mounted an Arab horse and sped on joy- ously: he deemed a robe of honour what really was the price of his blood. O fool, so willingly with thine own feet to enter on the journey to thy doom! In his fancy were dreams of riches, power, and lordship. Said Azrael," ‘Go thy way: yes, thou wilt get them!” * The Angel of Death. TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING Proudly and delicately they conducted him to the King, that he might burn like a moth on that candle of Taraz.’ The King beheld him, showed great regard for him, and entrusted to him the treasure house full of gold. Then the Physician said, ““O mighty Sultan, give thy handmaiden to this master, That she may be happy with him and that the water of union may quench the fire of passion.” The King bestowed on him that moon-faced one and wedded the twain who craved each other’s company.

During the space of six months they satisfied their desires, till the girl was wholly restored to health. Afterwards, he prepared a potion for him, so that he began to dwindle away. When because of sickness his beauty remained not, the soul of the girl remained not in his deadly toils. Since he appeared ugly and ill-favoured and sallow-cheeked, little by little he became unpleasing to her heart. Those loves which are for the sake of a colour are not love: in the end they are a disgrace. * This expression is applied to persons of resplendent beauty, like the women of 'Taraz in Turkistan. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN Would that he too had lacked all grace, that such an evil doom might not have come to pass upon him! Blood ran from his eye like a river: his hand- some face had become an enemy to his life. The peacock’s plumage is its enemy. How many a king hath been slain by his magnificence! He said, “I am the muskdeer whose gland caused the hunter to shed its innocent blood, Or the fox of the field for which they lay in wait to cut off its head for the sake of the fur, Or the elephant whose blood was shed by the mahout for the sake of the ivory. He who hath slain me for that which is not myself," does not he know that my blood sleepeth not? To-day the doom is on me, to-morrow it is on him: how should the blood of one like me rest unavenged? Although the wall casts a long shadow, yet at last the shadow turns back again towards it. The world is the mountain, and our action the shout: the echo of the shout comes back to us.” With these words he gave up the ghost. The Handmaiden was purged of love and pain, Because love of the dead is not enduring, for the dead are never coming back to us; 14,e. for my beauty. II TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING While love of the living is always fresher than a bud in the spirit and in the sight. Choose the love of that Living One, who is everlasting and gives thee to drink of the wine that increases life. Choose the love of Him from whose love all the prophets gained power and glory. Do not say, ‘“We have no admission to that King.” Dealings with the generous are not difficult. IT THE GROCER AND THE PARROT" THERE was a Grocer who had a parrot, a sweet- voiced, green, talking parrot. Perched on the bench, it would watch over the shop in its master’s absence and talk to the customers. Once, as it sprang from the bench and flew away, it spilled some bottles of rose-oil. Its master came from his house and merchant- wise seated himself at ease on the bench. Finding the bench wet with oil and his clothes greasy, he smote the parrot on the head: it was made bald by the blow. For some few days it refrained from speech; the Grocer, repenting, heaved deep sighs And tore his beard, saying, “Alas, the sun of my prosperity is gone under the clouds. Would that my hand had been paralysed when I struck such a blow on the head of that sweet-tongued one!” He was giving presents to every dervish, that he might get back the speech of his bird. ? Book I, v. 247. This story illustrates the folly of reason- ing by analogy (gzyds) and judging by appearances. 13 TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING

During the space of six months they satisfied their desires, till the girl was wholly restored to health. Afterwards, he prepared a potion for him, so that he began to dwindle away. When because of sickness his beauty remained not, the soul of the girl remained not in his deadly toils. Since he appeared ugly and ill-favoured and sallow-cheeked, little by little he became unpleasing to her heart. Those loves which are for the sake of a colour are not love: in the end they are a disgrace. * This expression is applied to persons of resplendent beauty, like the women of 'Taraz in Turkistan. THE KING AND THE HANDMAIDEN Would that he too had lacked all grace, that such an evil doom might not have come to pass upon him! Blood ran from his eye like a river: his hand- some face had become an enemy to his life. The peacock’s plumage is its enemy. How many a king hath been slain by his magnificence! He said, “I am the muskdeer whose gland caused the hunter to shed its innocent blood, Or the fox of the field for which they lay in wait to cut off its head for the sake of the fur, Or the elephant whose blood was shed by the mahout for the sake of the ivory. He who hath slain me for that which is not myself," does not he know that my blood sleepeth not? To-day the doom is on me, to-morrow it is on him: how should the blood of one like me rest unavenged? Although the wall casts a long shadow, yet at last the shadow turns back again towards it. The world is the mountain, and our action the shout: the echo of the shout comes back to us.” With these words he gave up the ghost. The Handmaiden was purged of love and pain, Because love of the dead is not enduring, for the dead are never coming back to us; 14,e. for my beauty. II TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING While love of the living is always fresher than a bud in the spirit and in the sight. Choose the love of that Living One, who is everlasting and gives thee to drink of the wine that increases life. Choose the love of Him from whose love all the prophets gained power and glory. Do not say, ‘“We have no admission to that King.” Dealings with the generous are not difficult. IT THE GROCER AND THE PARROT" THERE was a Grocer who had a parrot, a sweet- voiced, green, talking parrot. Perched on the bench, it would watch over the shop in its master’s absence and talk to the customers. Once, as it sprang from the bench and flew away, it spilled some bottles of rose-oil. Its master came from his house and merchant- wise seated himself at ease on the bench. Finding the bench wet with oil and his clothes greasy, he smote the parrot on the head: it was made bald by the blow. For some few days it refrained from speech; the Grocer, repenting, heaved deep sighs And tore his beard, saying, “Alas, the sun of my prosperity is gone under the clouds. Would that my hand had been paralysed when I struck such a blow on the head of that sweet-tongued one!” He was giving presents to every dervish, that he might get back the speech of his bird. ? Book I, v. 247. This story illustrates the folly of reason- ing by analogy (gzyds) and judging by appearances. 13 TALES OF MYSTIC MEANING