bride will keep on changing
her charming dresses; and the sultan's groom (poor man! and for nothing
at all) will be kept standing on his head. The moribund Nur al-Din turns
Polonius and delivers himself of sententious precepts. "Security," he
tells his son, "lieth in seclusion of thought and a certain retirement
from the society of thy fellows.... In this world there is none thou
mayst count upon... so live for thyself, nursing hope of none. Let
thine own faults distract thine attention from the faults of other men.
[442] Be cautious, kind, charitable, sober, and economical." Then the
good old man's life "went forth." This son, when, soon after, confronted
with misfortune, gives utterance to one of the finest thoughts in the
whole work:

"It is strange men should dwell in the house of abjection, when
the plain of God's earth is so wide and great." [443]

But there is another verse in the same tale that is also well worth
remembering--we mean the one uttered by Badr al-Din Hasan (turned tart
merchant) when struck by a stone thrown by his son.

Unjust it were to bid the world be just; and blame her not:
She ne'er was made for justice:
Take what she gives thee, leave all griefs aside, for now to fair and
Then to foul her lust is. [444]

We need do no more than mention the world-famous stories of the
unfortunate Hunchback and the pragmatical but charitable Barber. Very
lovely is the tale of Nur al-Din and the Damsel Anis al Jalis [445]
better known as "Noureddin and the Beautiful Persian." How tender is
the scene when they enter the Sultan's garden! "Then they fared forth at
once from the city, and Allah spread over them His veil of protection,
so that they reached the river bank, where they found a vessel ready for
sea." Arrived at Baghdad they enter a garden which turns out to be the
Sultan's. "By Allah," quoth Nur al-Din to the damsel, "right pleasant
is this place." And she replied, "O my lord, sit with me awhile on this
bench, and let us take our ease. So they mounted and sat them down...
and the breeze blew cool on them, and they fell asleep, and glory be to
Him who never sleepeth." Little need to enquire what it is that entwines
The Arabian Nights round our hearts.

When calamity over took Nur al-Din he mused on the folly of heaping up
riches:

"Kisra and Caesars in a bygone day stored wealth; where is it,
and ah! where are they?" [446]

But all came right in the end, for "Alla