On an island stands a great city called Daryabar, ruled by a king of exalted rank. Despite his virtue and valor, he was always sad and sorrowful because he had no children. He prayed without cease for an heir. After many long years of prayers, God granted him a daughter—myself. My father was at first disappointed that I was not a son, but he soon rejoiced greatly at my birth and determined to raise me to rule in his stead. When I came of age, he had me educated in reading, writing, court ceremonies, royal duties, and the history of past kingdoms, so that I might succeed him as heir to his throne.
One day, my father rode out hunting and pursued a wild ass so eagerly that he became separated from his companions. As evening fell, exhausted from the chase, he dismounted and sat beside a forest path. "The onager will seek shelter in this thicket," he said to himself.
Suddenly, he saw a light shining bright among the trees. Thinking a village might be nearby, he decided to rest there and determine his course in the morning. He rose and walked toward the light until he came to a lonely hut. Peering inside, he saw an Abyssinian of monstrous bulk, looking like a demon, seated upon a divan. Before him were many large jars full of wine, and over a charcoal fire roasted a whole bullock. The creature ate the flesh and drank deep from the pitchers. In a corner sat a lady of exquisite beauty, her hands bound with cords, and at her feet lay a child of two or three years, weeping for his mother's plight.
The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety sixth Night
My father, seeing their distress, longed to strike down the demon with his sword, but knowing he could not overcome such a creature, he restrained his wrath and remained hidden, watching.
The giant, after draining all the wine and devouring half the bullock, turned to the lady and said, "O most beautiful Princess, how much longer will you keep aloof from me? Do you not see how I desire you? I am dying for love of you. Surely you should return my affection, and I will become the kindest of men to you."
The lady cried out, "O demon of the waste! Never, never will I yield to you, however much you lust for me. Torment me or kill me, but I will never surrender to your lusts!"
Enraged, the creature roared, "That is enough! Your hatred breeds hatred in me. Now I desire not to have you but to kill you!" He seized her with one hand and drew his sword with the other, about to strike off her head, when my father shot an arrow so skillfully that it pierced the demon's heart and came out gleaming at his back. The creature fell dead and found entry into hell.
My father entered the hut and released the lady from her bonds. He asked who she was and how the demon had brought her there.
She answered, "Not far from here, on the sea shore, dwell a race of Saracens like demons of the desert. Against my will, I was married to their Prince. This vile creature you have slain was one of his chief officers. He fell madly in love with me and longed to take me away. One day when my husband was absent, the demon abducted me and my child, carrying us to this wild wood where I thought no one would ever find us. Hour after hour he tried to force me, but by Allah's mercy, I always escaped his foul embrace. This evening, in despair for my safety, as I refused his advances, he tried to kill me—and you slew him."
My father comforted her, saying, "O lady, fear nothing. At dawn I will take you away from this wilderness and escort you to Daryabar, of which I am the Sultan. If you find it pleasing, you may dwell there until your husband comes seeking you."
The lady agreed. The next morning, as my father set out with the mother and child, he encountered his commanders and officers, who had searched for him all night. They marvelled to see such a beautiful veiled woman in the wilderness. My father told them the tale of the demon and how he had slain it.
They rode toward the city, with one Emir seating the lady behind him on his horse's back while another carried the child. They reached the royal city, where my father ordered a splendid mansion built for his guest. The child received a proper education. The mother passed her days in comfort and happiness.
After several months passed with no news from her husband, the lady consented to marry my father. When the marriage contract was drawn up, they dwelled together. In time, the boy grew into a handsome, accomplished youth, skilled in courtly manners and all the arts and sciences fitting for princes. The King, his ministers, and nobles all approved of him greatly. They determined that I should marry him and that he should succeed my father as heir to the throne. The young man was pleased with their favour, and he rejoiced greatly at the prospect of marrying my father's daughter.
One day, my father desired to place my hand in his and celebrate the marriage ceremony, but first he imposed a condition: the youth must marry none other but me—my father's daughter. This condition displeased the proud young man, who immediately refused, thinking himself despised and deemed a suitor of low birth.
The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety seventh Night
In this way, the wedding was deferred, and the young man grew deeply displeased. He brooded, thinking my father was his enemy. One day, seized by rage and desperation, he killed my father and proclaimed himself King of Daryabar. He would have entered my chamber to murder me as well, had not the Wazir—a faithful servant of the crown—rescued me when he learned of the King's death. The Wazir hid me in the house of a friend.
Two days later, the Wazir fitted out a ship and, taking me with an old companion for protection, set sail for a country ruled by one of my father's allies, hoping to obtain help and an army to avenge the murder of my father and punish the traitor.
But a few days after we set sail, a terrible storm arose. The violent waves beat upon the vessel until she broke apart. The Wazir, my companion, and everyone else perished in the waters save me. Though nearly drowned, I clung to a plank and was washed ashore by the sea. Allah, in His might, preserved me from death so that worse troubles might yet befall me.
The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety eighth Night
When I regained consciousness, I found myself alive on the strand. I gave thanks to Allah, but seeing no trace of the Wazir or any of my companions, I knew they had all perished. I wept bitterly, thinking of my father's murder and my desperate plight. I wished to cast myself back into the sea when I heard the voices of men and the sound of horses.
Looking about, I saw a band of knights, and in their midst rode a handsome prince. He was mounted on a horse of the finest Arabian blood, dressed in a gold-embroidered surcoat, with a diamond-hilted sword and a golden crown upon his head. From his dress and bearing, it was clear he was a born ruler of men.
Seeing me alone on the shore, the knights marvelled greatly. The Prince sent one of his captains to ask my history, but I could not speak and only wept in silence. The knights, seeing wreckage on the sand, thought a ship had been wrecked and I had been washed ashore.
The Prince himself approached me and, amazed, sent his companions away. He spoke gently, saying, "O lady, fear nothing from me. I would take you to my home and place you under my mother's care. I am curious to know who you are. The Queen will surely befriend you and care for you in comfort and happiness."
Understanding that his heart was kind, I told him all that had happened to me. As he listened to my tragic tale, tears filled his eyes. He comforted me and took me to meet his mother, the Queen. She also listened with sympathy and wept at my misfortunes. She cared for me tenderly day and night, trying her best to bring me comfort.
Seeing that her son was deeply enamored of me and lovesick, the Queen agreed to our marriage, and I consented as well, for when I looked upon his handsome face and noble bearing and saw his proven affection and goodness of heart, I could not refuse.
In due time, the wedding was celebrated with royal pomp. But what escape is there from fate? On that very night of our wedding, the King of Zanzibar, who dwelt on a nearby island and had long harbored hostile designs, attacked with a great army. Many were slain, and we barely escaped to the shore. There we found a fisherman's boat, entered it, and drifted away, not knowing where we were going.
On the third day, we saw a vessel and rejoiced, thinking it was a merchant ship coming to our aid. But pirates sprang aboard—five or six men with drawn swords. They bound our arms and carried us to their ship. They tore away my veil, and all desired to possess me, each crying, "She shall be mine!" Their quarrel turned to battle and bloodshed, one by one falling dead until only one pirate, the bravest of them, remained.
This sole survivor said to me, "You will come with me to Cairo, where I have a friend. I promised him I would secure a fair woman to be his slave."
When he saw my husband, bound but alive, he asked, "Who is this wretch? Is he a lover or a friend?"
"He is my husband," I replied.
"It is well," he said. "I will release him from his jealousy and the pain of seeing you in another's arms." With these cruel words, he lifted my bound husband and cast him into the sea while I screamed and begged for mercy. I watched in horror as the Prince struggled and drowned before my eyes. I shrieked and wailed and would have thrown myself into the waters, but the pirate held me fast and lashed me to the mast.
We sailed with favourable winds to a small port village, where the pirate bought camels and slave boys. We journeyed toward Cairo, but when we had travelled several stages of the road, the Abyssinian who lived in this castle suddenly appeared before us. From afar, we thought him a mighty tower, and when he drew near, we could scarcely believe him to be human.
The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety ninth Night
At once, the Abyssinian unsheathed his great sword and demanded that the pirate surrender himself, me, and all his slaves. The pirate, with bold courage, led his followers in a fierce attack. They fought a long time with terrible ferocity until the pirate and all his men lay dead. The Abyssinian then carried me and the pirate's corpse to this castle and devoured the robber's flesh at his evening meal.
As I wept bitterly, the Abyssinian said, "Banish your sorrow and anger. Dwell here in comfort and ease, and solace yourself in my embraces. But since you appear distressed today, I will excuse you for tonight. However, tomorrow without fail I will demand your company."
He locked me in a separate chamber and slept alone in another place. Early the next morning, he searched the castle, unlocked the hidden wicket, and departed as usual to seek wayfarers. But the merchant caravan escaped him, and he returned empty-handed—just as Khudadad came and slew him.
In this way, I told my story to Prince Khudadad, who was moved with compassion. He comforted me and said, "Fear nothing and be not dismayed. These princes are the sons of the King of Harran. If you wish, they will escort you to his court and establish you in comfort. The King will also protect you from all evil. Or, if you prefer, will you not consent to take me as your husband—me who has rescued you from such great calamity?"
I consented to marry Khudadad. The marriage was celebrated with grand ceremony in the castle, and we found there many foods, drinks, and wines the cannibal had hoarded. Khudadad prepared a feast for all the captives he had freed. The next day, we set out for Harran with provisions from the castle.
When we had travelled for many days and only one day's journey remained, the Princes supped on their remaining provisions that night and drank the wine. When the drink had mastered their wits, Khudadad spoke to his brothers, saying, "Until now I have kept secret the truth of my birth, which I must now reveal. I am your brother, also a son of the King of Harran, raised in Samaria by the Lord of that land. My mother is the Princess Firuzah."
Then, turning to me, he said, "You did not know my rank, and had I revealed myself earlier, perhaps you would not have agreed to marry a man of what seemed humble birth. But now rest easy, for your husband is a Prince."
The brothers appeared pleased and offered warm congratulations, but inwardly they were filled with envy and resentment. They thought, "Our father showed Khudadad such favour when he was but a stranger, and even made him our governor. Now, hearing of his victory over the monster and learning that he is our father's son, surely the King will make him his only heir and place us all under his rule. We cannot allow this. We must kill him."
That night, while Khudadad slept, the treacherous brothers crept into his tent and struck him from all sides with their swords, wounding him terribly. They thought they had left him dead without waking me.
In the morning, my husband lay covered in blood, pierced with countless wounds.
The end of the Six Hundredth Night
When I awoke and saw my bridegroom lying in blood, I wept bitterly. I remembered his youth, his beauty, his valor, his virtues. "Woe is me!" I cried. "O my beloved Khudadad! Do these eyes see you in sudden death? Are these your brothers—the devils—whom your own courage saved? No, I am your murderess! I brought you this cruel fate!"
Then, as I looked at him closely, I saw that breath still came slowly through his nostrils and his limbs were still warm. I locked the tent and ran to the city to find a surgeon. When we returned, Khudadad was gone! I knew not what had happened, but I thought wild beasts must have carried him away. I wept bitterly, and the surgeon was moved to pity. He took me to his house and cared for me with great honour, assigning slave girls to attend me.
One day, when my grief had eased somewhat, the surgeon asked, "O lady, tell me your history and your misfortunes, and I will help you as much as I am able."
I told him everything, and he said, "If you wish, I will escort you to the King of Harran, who is a wise and just sovereign. He will rejoice to see you and will take vengeance on his unnatural sons for murdering your husband."
This pleased me greatly. We hired two dromedaries and set out. That evening, at a caravanserai, the surgeon asked what news came from the city. The keeper replied, "The King of Harran had a valiant and accomplished son who lived with him for some years as a stranger, but lately he was lost. No one knows if he is dead or alive. The Princess Firuzah, his mother, has sent everywhere seeking him, but all search has been in vain. The Sultan and all the people weep for him, for none of his forty-nine other sons can compare with him in deeds or skill. Despite all efforts, there is no news of him."
When I heard this, I nearly swooned. I wanted to go at once to Khudadad's mother, but the surgeon counseled patience. "If you go now," he said, "the forty-nine princes may hear of your coming and will surely have you killed. Let me go first to the Princess Firuzah and tell her everything. Then she will send for you. Meanwhile, remain hidden here."
The surgeon rode leisurely toward the city. On the road, he met a lady riding a richly adorned she-mule, surrounded by servants, soldiers, and Abyssinian slaves. The people stood on either side to salute her as she passed. The surgeon asked a Dervish who she was.
"She is the consort of the Sultan and the mother of Prince Khudadad," the man replied.
The surgeon followed her to a great mosque where she gave alms to the poor. He whispered to a slave, "I have a secret concerning Prince Khudadad that I must tell the Queen."
The slave replied, "Then come with me to the palace gates."
When the Queen reached her apartments, the surgeon requested a private audience. She granted it, and he approached her, saying, "I have a long tale to tell your Highness that will greatly astonish you."
He then described Khudadad's condition, the villainy of his brothers, and how his body had been carried away by wild beasts. When Queen Firuzah heard of her son's murder, she swooned. When she recovered, she said to the surgeon, "Go at once to the Princess of Daryabar and convey my greetings and sympathy."
As the surgeon departed, the Queen wept bitterly for her lost son. By chance, the Sultan passed by and saw her in tears. He asked why she wept.
The end of the Six Hundred and First Night
Queen Firuzah told him all that the surgeon had revealed. The Sultan was filled with rage. He rose and went to the audience chamber where the townspeople had gathered to petition him. Seeing his features contorted with anger, they were all afraid.
The Sultan seated himself on his throne and ordered the Grand Wazir, "Take a thousand guards and bring all forty-nine Princes to me. Cast them into prison with murderers and thieves, and let none of them escape."
The Wazir obeyed, and the Princes were imprisoned. The Sultan then dismissed the petitioners, saying, "For one month, I cannot sit in judgment. Return when the month has passed."
Rising from the throne, the Sultan went to the Queen's chamber and commanded the Wazir to bring the Princess of Daryabar and the surgeon to the palace with all honour and ceremony. The Wazir rode to the caravanserai with soldiers and Emirs, bringing a fine white she-mule adorned with jewels from the royal stables. He mounted the surgeon on a noble Turcomanian horse, and they rode to the palace in grand procession.
The townspeople ran out to greet us as we passed, rejoicing when they heard I was the wife of Prince Khudadad, hoping to hear news of him. When we reached the palace gates, the Sultan came forth to greet me. I alighted and kissed his feet. He raised me by the hand and took me to the chamber where Queen Firuzah awaited. The three of us fell upon one another's necks and wept long.
When our grief had eased somewhat, I said, "O my lord the Sultan, I humbly petition that you take full vengeance upon those who so foully murdered my husband."
The King replied, "Rest assured that I will put all those villains to death in requital for Khudadad's blood. And though his body has not been found, it is right that a great tomb be built in his memory."
He summoned the Grand Wazir and ordered him to build a magnificent mausoleum of white marble in the centre of the city. The Wazir appointed workmen and chose a suitable site. They built a gorgeous cenotaph crowned with a noble dome under which was sculptured a figure of Khudadad. When the King learned of its completion, he appointed a day for ceremonial mourning and prayers from the Koran.
On the appointed day, the townspeople gathered to see the funeral procession. The Sultan went in state to the mausoleum with all his Wazirs, Emirs, and nobles. He sat upon carpets of black satin bordered with flowers of gold spread over the marble floor.
A group of knights rode up with downcast heads. Circling the dome twice, they halted at the door on the third circuit and cried out, "O Prince, O son of our Sultan! If the strength of our good swords could restore you to life, we would not hesitate an instant, but before the will of Almighty Allah, all must bow their necks."
Then came one hundred holy men with white beards, dwelling hermits who had lived in solitude and never appeared in the city save for the funerals of the royal family. The eldest, bearing a great tome upon his head, led them in three circuits around the mausoleum. Standing on the highway, he cried out, "O Prince, if our prayers and devotions could bring you back to life, we would dedicate our souls to quickening you. When we saw you arise, we would wipe your feet with our white beards."
Then came one hundred maidens of wondrous beauty, mounted on white horses, their faces bare and their heads adorned with golden canisters of precious stones and diamonds. They also circled the cenotaph. The youngest and fairest spoke for all of them: "O Prince, could our youth and beauty serve you in any way, we would offer ourselves to you. But alas, our charms are now in vain and our love cannot warm your clay."
The Sultan and all with him rose and walked three times around the sculptured figure. Standing at its feet, the father said, "O my beloved son, enlighten these eyes which tears have dimmed." He wept bitterly, and all his ministers and courtiers joined in his mourning. When the obsequies were complete, the Sultan and his suite returned to the palace, and the dome was locked.
The end of the Six Hundred and Second Night
For a week, the Sultan commanded prayers in all the mosques. For eight days, he mourned and wept before the cenotaph. When this time was passed, he ordered the Grand Wazir to execute the Princes for the murder of Khudadad. Preparations were made for the executions, and crowds gathered to witness the scaffold.
Suddenly came a report that an enemy whom the King had defeated long ago was marching upon the city with a conquering army. The Sultan was deeply troubled. His ministers said to one another, "Alas! If Prince Khudadad were alive, he would quickly defeat any foe, however fierce."
The Sultan set out from the city with his army, prepared to flee by river should the enemy prove victorious. The two armies met in deadly combat. The invaders surrounded the King's forces on all sides, seemingly about to cut them to pieces, when suddenly an armed force appeared on the plain, riding swiftly and surely.
The two hostile kings gazed in utter amazement, not knowing where this host came from. As the force drew near, the horsemen charged upon the enemies and in moments put them to flight. They pursued fiercely, striking them down with sword and spear until nearly all the invading forces were slain. Only a few escaped, and their king was captured.
The Captain of the friendly forces returned to greet the King of Harran. As the two drew near, the Sultan was astonished to recognise that the Captain was none other than his beloved son, Khudadad—lost and now found!
"O my sire," exclaimed the Prince, "I am he whom you thought slain. Allah has kept me alive that I might this day serve you and destroy your enemies."
"O my beloved son," replied the King, "I had despaired of ever seeing you again with these eyes!"
They dismounted and fell upon each other's necks. The Sultan clasped his hand and said, "I have long known of your valiant deeds and how you saved your ill-fated brothers from the man-eating Abyssinian. Go now to your mother, who is reduced to skin and bones by bitter tears for you. Be the first to gladden her heart with news of this victory."
As they rode, Khudadad asked, "How did you learn of the Abyssinian and my rescue of my brothers? Did one of them tell you?"
"No," replied the King. "It was the Princess of Daryabar. She has dwelt with me many days and was the first to demand vengeance for your blood."
When Khudadad heard that his wife was his father's guest, he rejoiced greatly and said, "Let me first see my mother, then I will go to the Princess."
The King struck off the head of his chief enemy and displayed it publicly in all the streets. The people exulted not only at the victory but at Khudadad's safe return. Dancing and feasting filled every household.
When Queen Firuzah and the Princess of Daryabar heard the news, they presented themselves before the Sultan to offer their congratulations. Then they went to see Khudadad hand in hand, and the three fell upon one another's necks, weeping for very joy.
The end of the Six Hundred and Third Night
After much conversation and marvelling at how Khudadad, though terribly wounded, had escaped alive from that wilderness, the Prince told his tale: "A peasant on a camel happened to pass my tent and, seeing me grievously wounded and covered in blood, placed me upon his beast and carried me to his house. Using roots of desert herbs, he placed them on my wounds, and they healed kindly. I recovered strength swiftly. After thanking my benefactor generously, I set out for Harran. On the road, I saw the enemy forces marching upon the city. I made this known to the people of the villages and townships round about and gathered their aid. Collecting a large force, I placed myself at its head and arrived in time to destroy the invading army."
The Sultan gave thanks to Allah and said, "Let all the Princes who conspired against your life be put to death."
But Khudadad made request, saying, "O my lord the King, they all deserve the doom you have ordained. Yet are they not my brothers and your own flesh and blood? I have freely forgiven them their offense, and I humbly pray you to pardon them as well and spare their lives, for blood ever calls to blood."
The Sultan at length consented and forgave their offense. He summoned all his ministers and declared Khudadad his heir and successor in the presence of the Princes, whom he released from prison. Khudadad had their chains struck off and embraced them one by one with the same fondness he had shown them in the cannibal's castle.
All the people, hearing of Khudadad's noble conduct, raised shouts of applause and loved him more than ever.
The surgeon who had served the Princess so faithfully received a robe of honour and great wealth.
And thus that which began with mishap ended in happiness and joy.