💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~bencollver › books › fae-fables › food-of-paradise.gmi captured on 2022-03-01 at 15:42:27. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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In the school founded by the Caliph for the study of divine things
sat the devout Mullah Ibrahim, his hands folded in his lap, in an
attitude of meditation. Ibrahim taught students from all the
countries of Islam, but the work was thankless and ill-paid. And as
he sat there he thought on his state for the first time in many
years.
"Why is it," he said to himself, "that a man so holy as I am must
toil so hard to instruct a pack of blockheads, when others who have
merited nothing through piety or attention to the Commands of Allah
fare sumptuously every day and neither toil nor spin? O,
Compassionate One, is not this thing unjust? Whereof should Thy
servant be burdened, like an ass in the market-place, which carries
two panniers both filled to the top and stumbles at every blow of the
driver's stick?"
And as he considered, Ibrahim the Wise, as men called him, brought to
mind that verse in the Holy Literature in which it says: "Allah will
not let any one starve." And taking deeper counsel with himself, he
said: "May it not be that those whom I have blamed for their sloth
and inactivity are, after all, the better Moslems, that they have
greater faith than I? For, perusing this passage, they may have said
to themselves: 'I will cast myself upon the mercy of Allah, which in
this text is surely extended to all men. Allah in his bounty will
surely feed and maintain me? Why then toil and strive as the
faithless do? It is those who have faith that are the elect."
At that moment a great pasha halted before the gates of the seminary,
in his piety alighting from his palanquin to give alms to a beggar,
as all good Moslems do. And as Ibrahim watched him through the
lattice, he thought: "Does not the condition of the beggar as well as
that of this pasha prove the justice of the text upon which I have
been meditating? Neither starves, but the wealthier man is assuredly
the more devout, for he is the giver and not the receiver, and for
this very purpose has been blest with the goods of this world. Why
do I hesitate, wretched man that I am? Shall I not, as the Book
ordains, cast myself on the bounty of Allah and free myself for ever
from the intolerable burden of instructing fools in a wisdom they can
never understand?"
So saying, Ibrahim the Sage arose from his place in the College of
the Caliph, and walked out of the City of Baghdad where he had dwelt
for many years. It was evening, and betaking himself to the banks of
the river, he selected a dry and shady spot beneath a spreading
cypress tree, and, awaiting the bounty of Allah, fell fast asleep in
the certainty that the Lord of all Compassion would not fail him.
When he awoke, it was early morning, and a divine hush lay upon
everything. Ibrahim lazily speculated as to the manner in which he
would be sustained. Would the birds of the air bring him sustenance,
would the fishes from the stream leap ashore, offering themselves for
the assuagement of his growing hunger? In what way did those who
merited the help of Allah first receive it, if not in some miraculous
manner? True, the wealthy were bequeathed riches by their parents.
But there must be a beginning. A pasha might sail down the river in
his barge and supply his wants out of golden dishes and silver cups.
But morning blossomed into day and day into night and still the
miracle remained unaccomplished. More than one pasha glided past him
in his gilded barge, but these made only the customary salutations
and gave no other sign. On the road above pilgrims and travellers
passed, but without taking the least notice of him. Hunger gnawed at
his vitals, and he thought with envy of the millet porridge with
goats' milk the mullahs would now be enjoying at the seminary. Still
was he trustful, and, as he made the customary ablutions in the
river, his faith had abated not one jot.
Again he slept, and once more day dawned in scarlet and silver
beauty. By this time he felt so faint as scarcely to be able to
stand. The hours crept slowly onward, yet no sign came that his
hunger was to be satisfied.
At last, as midday approached with its stifling heat, something
floating upon the surface of the water caught his eye. It seemed
like a mass of leaves wrapped up with fibre, and wading into the
river he succeeded in catching it. Back he splashed with his prize
to the bank, and sitting down on the sward, he opened the packet. It
contained a quantity of the most delicious-looking halwa, that famous
marzipan, of the making of which only Baghdad knows the secret, a
sweetmeat composed of sugar mingled with paste of almonds and attar
of roses and other delicate and savoury essences.
After gorging himself with the delightful fare, Ibrahim the Wise
drank deeply from the river, and lolled on the sward, sure that his
prayer had been answered, and that he would never have to toil more.
There was sufficient of the ambrosial food to serve for three meals a
day, and on each day after the hour of midday prayer a similar packet
of halwa came floating down the stream as though placed there by the
hands of angels.
"Surely," said the Mullah, "the promises of Allah are true, and the
man who trusts in Him will not be deceived. Truly I did well to
leave the seminary, where, day-in, day-out, I had perforce to cram
divine knowledge into the heads of idiots incapable of repeating a
verse correctly even at the fifteenth attempt."
Months passed, and Ibrahim continued to receive the food that Allah
had promised with unfailing regularity. Then, quite naturally, he
began to speculate whence it came. If he could find the spot where it
was deposited on the surface of the stream, surely he must witness a
miracle, and as he had never done so, he felt greatly desirous of
attaining the merit such a consummation would undoubtedly add to his
fame as a holy man.
So one morning, after eating the last of the halwa he had received on
the preceding day, he girded up his loins, and taking his staff,
began slowly to walk up-stream. "Now," said he, "if what I suppose
be true, I will today receive my luscious food at an earlier hour
than usual, as I shall be nearer the place where it is deposited on
the water, and indeed on each day I shall receive at an even earlier
hour, until at last I come to the spot where some divine seraph, sent
by Allah from Paradise, drops the savoury food of heaven upon the
stream in justification of my trust in the most Merciful."
For some days Ibrahim walked up-stream, keeping carefully to the bank
of the river and fixing his eyes on its surface in case he should
fail to discern the packet of halwa. But every day at an ever
earlier hour, it floated regularly past him, carried by the current
so near to the shore that he could easily wade out and secure it. At
nights he slept beneath a convenient tree, and as men perceived him
to be a mullah and a sacred man, no one thought of molesting him.
It was on the fourth day of his journey that he observed the river
had widened. In a large island in the midst of the stream rose a
fair castle. The island composed a princely domain of noble
meadow-land and rich garden, crossed and interlaced by the silver of
narrow streams, and was backed by the blue and jagged peaks of great
mountains. The castle itself was built of marble white as sculptured
ice, and its green and shady lawns sloped down to a silent and
forlorn shore of golden sand.
And when night descended this wondrous region was illuminated by the
romance of moonlight into an almost unearthly radiance, so that
Ibrahim in all his piety was forced to compare it with Paradise
itself. The white castle on its dark rocks seemed like day
pedestalled upon night, and from the sea-green of the shadow of
myrtles rose the peaks of pavilions whence came the sound of guitars
and lutes and voices more ravishingly sweet than Ibrahim, the son of
the seminary, had ever believed earth could hold.
And as Ibrahim gazed spellbound at the wondrous spectacle and drank
in the sounds of ecstasy which arose from the garden, wondering
whether he were not already dead and in the purlieus of Heaven, a
harsh voice hailed him at his very elbow, asking him what he did
there. He turned swiftly, to see standing beside him an ancient man
in the garb of a hermit, with long matted hair and tangled beard.
"Salaam, good father," he said, much relieved, for, like all men of
peace, he feared violence. "The peace of Allah, the Merciful, the
Compassionate, be upon you."
"And upon you, my son," replied the anchorite. "But what do you here
at this hour of the night, when all such as you should be asleep?"
"Like yourself, I am a holy man," replied Ibrahim, with unction, "but
I travel on a quest the nature of which I may not divulge to any.
Passing this spot, I was attracted by the unusual appearance of
yonder castle and its surroundings, and would learn its story, if
that is known to you."
"It is, though in part only," rejoined the hermit, "for I have dwelt
many years in this neighbourhood, but have little converse with men.
Know, then, that the place you behold is called the Silver Castle.
It was built by a pasha now dead, who was greatly enamoured of a
certain princess, whose father refused him her hand in marriage.
But, not to be gainsaid, so fierce and unruly a thing is love in some
men, he built this strength in the midst of the river as you see, and
placed upon it so many dark and terrible spells of magic that none
could cross to or from it without his sanction. Then, abducting the
princess, he espoused her and placed her in yonder tower. The King,
her father, came with an army to besiege the place, but so potent
were the necromancies the Pasha had surrounded it with that he was
compelled to raise the siege and leave his daughter in the hands of
his enemy."
"You amaze me," cried Ibrahim. "And does this princess remain here
still?"
"No, brother," replied the Hermit, "like her lord she has passed
away, but they have left behind them a daughter who governs the
castle, a lady of surpassing beauty, who spends her days in pleasure
and in spending the wealth her father bequeathed her. But she has
but one sorrow, and that is that none can dissolve the spells woven
by her father the Pasha, so that no one may either gain admittance to
the castle or leave it. Her companions are therefore either the very
aged or those born on the island and no other, which, for a young and
beautiful woman, must be wearisome. But you will pardon me, brother,
I am going on a pilgrimage to a certain shrine in Baghdad, where I
betake myself once a year to acquire merit. Meanwhile, if you choose
to rest, you may dwell in my humble cell yonder until I return in
seven days' time."
Ibrahim gladly accepted the Hermit's offer, and when he had gone, sat
down to ponder over the tale he had told him. Now, among other
wisdoms, he had acquired during his years of study a deep knowledge
of the magical art, and he bethought him that it might be given to
him to rid the castle and its inhabitants of the spells which held
them prisoner on the island.
But in the midst of his thoughts he fell asleep, and did not waken
until the sun was high in the heavens. Then he made his ablutions,
and betook himself to the banks of the river, where he sat and
watched the surface of the water for a sign of the appearance of the
delicious food he received daily.
And as he watched, he beheld a curious thing. Some three hours
before midday a very beautiful woman appeared on the marble
battlements which overhung the river. So fair was she that the
Mullah gasped with surprise at the radiance of her beauty, which was
that of the houris of Paradise. For her hair was as golden wire
which is drawn thin by the cunning of the goldsmith, her eyes were
yellow, and bright as topazes found on Mount Ararat, and the colour
of her cheeks was as that of the roses of Isfahan.
And as for the flesh of her body, it shone with the lustre of silver,
so brightly polished it was.
"Can this be the Princess?" thought Ibrahim, "or an angel from
heaven? Nay, surely it is she, for this woman, though beautiful
surpassingly, is still a mortal."
And as Ibrahim stood beholding her, she raised her arm and cast
something into the river. And when she had done so, she withdrew
from the battlements and disappeared like a planet behind clouds.
The Mullah kept his eyes fixed on that which she had cast into the
stream, and in a little perceived that it was the very packet of
leaves which he was wont to receive daily. Wading into the stream he
secured it, unwrapped it, and found it full of the delicious halwa,
as usual.
"Ha," said he, as he devoured the savoury sweetmeat.
"So now I know at last that radiant being by whose hands Allah, the
Just, the Merciful, has ordained I shall be fed daily. Truly, the
Compassionate must have put it into the heart of this divine princess
to cast this luscious food on the breast of the stream at the
self-same hour each day.
And shall I not seek to repay her the distinguished kindness she has
done me by freeing her from the spells by which she is encompassed,
and which keep her a prisoner, she who should be wed to a Sultan at
least and should reign in Baghdad itself?"
And with these grateful thoughts, he sat down to consider by what
means the spells which surrounded the castle might be broken. And,
casting himself into a deep trance, he walked in spirit in the Land
of the Jinn, where, as a holy man, he could come to no harm. And
coming to the house of one of the Jinn, whom he knew and whose name
was Adhem, he summoned him and had speech with him.
"Hail, holy man," said Adhem, making low obeisance. "I am your
servant. In what way can I serve you?"
Ibrahim acquainted him with the reason for his presence there, at
which the Jinn assumed an air of the greatest concern.
"What you ask is indeed hard, most wise Ibrahim," he said doubtfully.
"But I will take counsel of my brethren on the matter without delay,
and shall let you know the result of our deliberations by a speedy
and trusty messenger. No more can I say or do at present."
With this Ibrahim departed and soon after awoke from his trance. He
seemed only to have been an hour in the Land of the Jinn, but it must
have been five hours or more, for the sun was high in the heavens
when he fell asleep, and now moonlight was sparkling on the waters of
the river. And the same exquisite music he had heard before arose
from the gardens of the castle, as though from the lips of peris.
And as Ibrahim listened entranced, a shape scarcely more solid than
the moonlight rose slowly out of the river and stood before him in
the shadowy likeness of a jinn. Three times it made obeisance before
him, then it spoke.
"Most wise and holy Ibrahim," it said, "my master Adhem, a prince
among the people of the Jinn, has sent me to acquaint you with the
decision of his counsellors. They proffer you this ring set with the
diamond which men call adamant, and in whose shining surface if you
will gaze, you shall behold the nature of those spells which keep the
Princess and her train prisoners in yonder castle. And, having
discovered the nature of those spells, if you summon our people to
your aid in such shapes as will dissolve or break them they will come
in such guise as will set the Princess free."
With those words the Jinn vanished into the river whence he had come.
And, without delay, Ibrahim took the ring which the spirit had cast
on the grass at his feet, and peered into the shining stone it held.
And straightway he beheld the first spell. Close to the shore of the
river arose a mighty bastion as of stone, invisible to mortal eyes,
which surrounded the castle from shore to shore. And Ibrahim summoned
to him the hosts of the Jinn in the guise of sappers, with picks and
hammers, and on this wall they fell mightily in their myriads, so
that without sound or clamour of any sort, they reduced it to dust
ere a man could count a hundred.
Then Ibrahim looked once more in the surface of the diamond, and saw
a great web like that of a spider hanging in the air round the
castle. And he summoned the hosts of the Jinn in the shape of eagles,
which so rent at the invisible web with their strong beaks that in
less time than it takes to tell of it, almost, it fell in fragments
into the stream.
Once more Ibrahim gazed into the stone, and this time he saw an army
of viewless giants, with spear and scimitar in hand, drawn up in
array of war on the shores of the island. And he called the Jinn
people to him in the likeness of greater and more powerful giants,
who did battle with those on the island. Terrible was the strife,
and Ibrahim trembled mightily as he watched it. But soon the Jinn
prevailed over the giants of the island, and put them to flight.
The spells which had surrounded the castle were now removed, and as
day had dawned, Ibrahim cast about for some means of reaching the
castle. No sooner had he wished this than by the power of the Jinn a
bridge rose out of the stream by which he was enabled to cross to the
island. And when he had done so, he was accosted by an old man who
held a bared scimitar in his hand, and who asked him by what means he
had been enabled to reach the island, which had so long been under
enchantment.
"That I may tell only to your lady, the Princess," said Ibrahim.
"Admit me to her presence without delay."
The guard, marvelling, ushered him through the great gate of the
castle, and across a spacious court where fountains sang
mellifluously. Entering a magnificent hall, the floor of which was
inlaid with squares of blue and white marble and the walls with lapis
lazuli and other rare stones, he gave the Mullah into the keeping of
a eunuch, who requested the holy man to follow him.
Upon a dais sat the incomparable Princess whom Ibrahim had beheld on
the battlements, and who daily cast the packet of halwa on the waters
of the river. To her the Mullah made obeisance, and, kneeling before
her, told his tale.
"And what, most wise Ibrahim, do you ask in recompense of your so
notable offices on my behalf?" asked the Princess. "Speak, and it
shall be granted to you, even to the half of my inheritance."
"Nay, noble lady," exclaimed Ibrahim. "For have I not reason enow to
be grateful to your Highness for the delicious food with which you
have fed me daily? That halwa which you cast every morning from the
battlements, and which has floated down the stream I have eaten with
thankfulness. Surely only an angel from Paradise could have put it
into your heart to despatch it."
The Princess blushed so deeply that her heightened colour could be
seen even beneath her veil.
"Alas, good Mullah!" she cried, wringing her hands. "What is this
you tell me? Curses on the day on which I first cast that halwa as
you call it, on the waters of the river. Know, that each morning it
is my custom to take a bath of milk, after which I anoint and rub my
limbs with essence of almonds, sugar and sweet-scented cosmetics.
These, then, I remove from my nakedness and, wrapping them in leaves,
cast them into the stream."
"Ah, now. Princess, I see who has been blind," cried Ibrahim, with a
wry countenance. "Allah surely gives food to everyone; but its
quality and kind are dictated by what they deserve!"
[The function of this tale is that it will confirm the bias of those
who, for example, believe that humility is really living off the
by-products of a total system. It will also encourage those who
think that even those things which seem wonderful (the sweetmeat) are
as nothing, seen from a wider perspective. But for those who are
ready to understand the truth: they will find this tale valuable to
take them beyond such simple confirmations.]
