The Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid sat
in his palace, wondering if there was anything left in the world that
could possibly give him a few hours' amusement, when Giafar the grand-vizir,
his old and tried friend, suddenly appeared before him. Bowing low, he
waited, as was his duty, till his master spoke, but Haroun-al-Raschid
merely turned his head and looked at him, and sank back into his
former weary posture.
Now Giafar had something of
importance to say to the Caliph, and had no intention of being put off
by mere silence, so with another low bow in front of the throne, he
began to speak.
"Commander of the
Faithful," said he, "I have taken on myself to remind your
Highness that you have undertaken secretly to observe for yourself the
manner in which justice is done and order is kept throughout the city.
This is the day you have set apart to devote to this object, and
perhaps in fulfilling this duty you may find some distraction from the
melancholy to which, as I see to my sorrow, you are a prey."
"You are right,"
returned the Caliph, "I had forgotten all about it. Go and change
your coat, and I will change mine."
A few moments later they both
re-entered the hall, disguised as foreign merchants, and passed
through a secret door, out into the open country. Here they turned
towards the Euphrates, and crossing the river in a small boat, walked
through that part of the town which lay along the further bank,
without seeing anything to call for their interference. Much pleased
with the peace and good order of the city, the Caliph and his vizir
made their way to a bridge, which led straight back to the palace, and
had already crossed it, when they were stopped by an old and blind
man, who begged for alms.
The Caliph gave him a piece of
money, and was passing on, but the blind man seized his hand, and held
him fast.
"Charitable person," he
said, "whoever you may be grant me yet another prayer. Strike me,
I beg of you, one blow. I have deserved it richly, and even a more
severe penalty."
The Caliph, much surprised at
this request, replied gently: "My good man, that which you ask is
impossible. Of what use would my alms be if I treated you so
ill?" And as he spoke he tried to loosen the grasp of the blind
beggar.
"My lord," answered the
man, "pardon my boldness and my persistence. Take back your
money, or give me the blow which I crave. I have sworn a solemn oath
that I will receive nothing without receiving chastisement, and if you
knew all, you would feel that the punishment is not a tenth part of
what I deserve."
Moved by these words, and perhaps
still more by the fact that he had other business to attend to, the
Caliph yielded, and struck him lightly on the shoulder. Then he
continued his road, followed by the blessing of the blind man. When
they were out of earshot, he said to the vizir, "There must be
something very odd to make that man act so--I should like to find out
what is the reason. Go back to him; tell him who I am, and order him
to come without fail to the palace to-morrow, after the hour of
evening prayer."
So the grand-vizir went back to
the bridge; gave the blind beggar first a piece of money and then a
blow, delivered the Caliph's message, and rejoined his master.
They passed on towards the
palace, but walking through a square, they came upon a crowd watching
a young and well-dressed man who was urging a horse at full speed
round the open space, using at the same time his spurs and whip so
unmercifully that the animal was all covered with foam and blood. The
Caliph, astonished at this proceeding, inquired of a passer-by what it
all meant, but no one could tell him anything, except that every day
at the same hour the same thing took place.
Still wondering, he passed on,
and for the moment had to content himself with telling the vizir to
command the horseman also to appear before him at the same time as the
blind man.
The next day, after evening
prayer, the Caliph entered the hall, and was followed by the vizir
bringing with him the two men of whom we have spoken, and a third,
with whom we have nothing to do. They all bowed themselves low before
the throne and then the Caliph bade them rise, and ask the blind man
his name.
"Baba-Abdalla, your
Highness," said he.
"Baba-Abdalla,"
returned the Caliph, "your way of asking alms yesterday seemed to
me so strange, that I almost commanded you then and there to cease
from causing such a public scandal. But I have sent for you to inquire
what was your motive in making such a curious vow. When I know the
reason I shall be able to judge whether you can be permitted to
continue to practise it, for I cannot help thinking that it sets a
very bad example to others. Tell me therefore the whole truth, and
conceal nothing."
These words troubled the heart of
Baba-Abdalla, who prostrated himself at the feet of the Caliph. Then
rising, he answered: "Commander of the Faithful, I crave your
pardon humbly, for my persistence in beseeching your Highness to do an
action which appears on the face of it to be without any meaning. No
doubt, in the eyes of men, it has none; but I look on it as a slight
expiation for a fearful sin of which I have been guilty, and if your
Highness will deign to listen to my tale, you will see that no
punishment could atone for the crime."
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