Meanwhile the other villagers who had been driven away by Nassar went to the officials and thus addressed them: “Is Islám no longer dominant in this country, that hypocrites and infidels are allowed to enter the mosque and desecrate it with their orgies? People who live near the mosque hear every night the diabolical revellings of a pack of vagabonds. Last night they again entered the mosque, and, contrary to law, shouted the call to prayer in the middle of the night. They have even sorely wounded one of the faithful, and we do not know what has become of him.” The officials ordered a party of constables to accompany them and to seize the law-breakers; and when they entered the mosque they found Nassar still engaged in examining his prisoner, and mistaking them also for the thieves he wounded one of them likewise. “Súfí,” they exclaimed, “what impudence and wickedness is this? Do pious and virtuous men ever fight and kill the servants of God in the mosque?” Quoth Nassar: “You vile robbers! you cannot deceive me. I intend to slay you all this night, to deserve the reward of God.” When they saw him speaking so boldly, naked as he was, they said: “Look at the presumption of this súfí, to behave in such a manner in the mosque!” By this time, the morning having dawned, numbers of the people came to prayer, and Nassar fled, with the sword in his hand, and wounded several persons who attempted to stop him. But he ran so fast that no one was able to overtake him, and his pursuers then returned to their homes. Soon afterwards, however, a company of súfís came into the village and were at once accused of having committed the robbery; a general tumult ensued and many men were slain or wounded. Ultimately the affair came before the king of Egypt, who caused the súfís to be punished and fined, although they were entirely innocent of the crime laid to their charge.
Nassar now wandered from town to town, pursued by misfortunes. One day the king of Egypt asked his courtiers what had become of him, but they could only reply that in consequence of the various calamities that followed his archery feat he had disappeared. His majesty observed that for these accidents Nassar was in no way accountable, because they had all occurred by the decree of Fate, and he despatched messengers in every direction to search for him. Nassar was at last discovered in a village, in a very destitute and miserable condition. He was carried to the capital, and before bringing him into the king’s presence it was necessary to take him to the bath, after which his majesty received him with great kindness and inquired of him: “Are you skilled in any other things besides archery?” Nassar bowed his head and replied: “I am acquainted with military tactics, mathematics, commerce, mineralogy, boxing, fencing, and also with cooking.”[44] Quoth the king: “All these accomplishments adorn the character of a man, none of them, however, can equal your skill in archery; but when you acquired it your destiny was unpropitious and the moon was evidently in the mansion of the Scorpion.[45] It will therefore be proper for you to abstain from shooting arrows and to practice other arts until the lucky hour comes when these calamities have disappeared from your horoscope. This day I wish to give a banquet, and you must exhibit your skill in boxing; and as you tell me that you also possess a knowledge of the art of cooking, I give you leave to prepare any dishes you please, for it is long since I was able to relish any kind of food.”
Accordingly Nassar made various savoury dishes, and when he had finished his work the king commanded him to show his skill in boxing until the dinner hour. Nassar said that he was ready to box and wrestle with two hundred men who excelled in these arts, and when they were produced he very easily vanquished them one after another.[46] The king gave orders that more men should be brought, but to his astonishment none could be found willing to encounter such a formidable antagonist. But recollecting that he possessed a Circassian slave named Fírúz Bakht, lately presented to him by the Sultan of Turkey, who was skilled in wrestling, he ordered him to attack Nassar. The slave caught Nassar about the loins so forcibly that his own hands bled, but he was unable to move him a hair’s breadth from the spot where he stood. To be brief, they wrestled long and skilfully, the Circassian trying two hundred different tricks without effect. At last, however, Nassar turned the game and lifted Fírúz Bakht from the ground with as much ease as if he were a child; but the slave so firmly grasped a pillar of the shed in which the sport was taking place that Nassar could not pull him from it; and making a final effort he tugged so hard that along with Fírúz Bakht he wrenched the pillar away, which killed the slave and about twenty of the spectators by a portion of the roof falling down on them after its support had been thus withdrawn. The king, with all his attendants, fled from the place in alarm, and the banquet, which was to be one of joy, became one of mourning.
Although the king was greatly affected by this sad accident he said to his courtiers: “As this event only took place by the immutable decree of Fate, I can in no way blame the young stranger; and if I lose my life together with my kingdom, a thousand accidents such as this will not influence me against him.” The courtiers tried to comfort the king, but as he was very melancholy their efforts were fruitless. When the table-decker made his appearance and announced that the dinner prepared by Nassar was ready to be served up, the king said: “Though we have at present no inclination to eat anything, yet, as the dinner is prepared, cause it to be brought in.” When, however, the king had tasted some of the dishes he found them to be more delicious than aught he had ever eaten before; and, thus seduced, he ate so heartily that he became ill, and having but lately recovered from sickness he was unable to digest the food, and only recovered after a long course of medicine.
But that magnanimous and kind-hearted monarch, albeit he had never been sick before he had come in contact with Nassar, would ascribe neither his indisposition nor the other calamities to that circumstance, but to the decrees of Fate, and bore him no ill-will. He invested Nassar with a robe of honour, made him various presents, and was about to appoint him to a high office, when one of the vazírs, who had by his natural sagacity guessed the king’s purpose, said that, although his majesty was of a liberal and kind disposition and Nassar a deserving person, yet it would be inadvisable to bestow on him any great favours at the present time, because experience had abundantly shown that the withering blasts of his unfortunate destiny had not yet ceased to blow, and only mischief would be the result. Therefore, he went on to say, it would be better to give him a considerable sum of money and dismiss him, with the injunction to remain in some other place until his destiny had changed for the better, when he might return to the service of the king, whose favours, if now bestowed, would be thrown away. He continued: “It is also certain that in the same way as all efforts to aid persons who are predestined to be unfortunate are in vain, so also the devotional and religious wishes of silly though well-meaning men are of little avail to them.” The king asked: “How is that?” Upon which the vazír related the
Story of the Foolish Hermit.
At the time of the rising of the Sun of Prophecy, the glance of an angel of the Court of Unity[47] chanced to alight on the hermitage of an ascetic, whom he beheld sedulously engaged in all the duties of religion; and he was so pleased that he was curious to know what should be the reward of all this piety. Then the allocution reached him from the Lord of Omniscience: “Angel, pray that this mystery be revealed to thee.” Accordingly the angel made his supplication and was informed that the reward of the ascetic should be very inconsiderable; whereat