Part 4 (1/2)
Although Taylor's _Wit and Mirth_ is the most ”original” of our old English jest-books--that is to say, it contains very few stories in common with preceding collections--yet some of the diverting tales he relates are traceable to very distant sources, more especially the following:
A country fellow (that had not walked much in streets that were paved) came to London, where a dog came suddenly out of a house, and furiously ran at him. The fellow stooped to pick up a stone to cast at the dog, and finding them all fast rammed or paved in the ground, quoth he, ”What a strange country am I in, where the people tie up the stones and let the dogs loose!”
Three centuries and a half before the Water Poet heard this exquisitely humorous story, the great Persian poet Sa'di related it in his _Gulistan_ (or Rose-garden), which was written A.D. 1278:
A poor poet presented himself before the chief of a gang of robbers, and recited some verses in his praise. The robber-chief, however, instead of rewarding him, as he fondly expected, ordered him to be stripped of his clothes and expelled from the village. The dogs attacking him in the rear, the unlucky bard stooped to pick up a stone to throw at them, and finding the stones frozen in the ground, he exclaimed, ”What a vile set of men are these, who set loose the dogs and fasten the stones!”
Now here we have a very curious instance of the migration of a popular tale from Persia--perchance it first set out on its travels from India --in the thirteenth century, when grave and reverend seigniors wagged their beards and shook their portly sides at its recital, to London in the days of the Scottish Solomon (more properly dubbed ”the wisest fool in Christendom”!), when Taylor, the Water Poet, probably heard it told, in some river-side tavern, amidst the clinking of beer-cans and the fragrant clouds blown from pipes of Trinidado, and ”put it in his book!”
How it came into England it would be interesting to ascertain. It may have been brought to Europe by the Venetian merchants, who traded largely in the Levant and with the Moors in Northern Africa.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Powell and Magnusson's _Legends of Iceland_, Second Series, p.
626.
[2] _Dictionary of Kashmiri Proverbs and Sayings_. Explained and ill.u.s.trated from the rich and interesting folk-lore of the Valley. By the Rev. J. Hinton Knowles. Bombay: 1885.
[3] This work was composed A.H. 776 (A.D. 1374-5), as the anonymous author takes care to inform us in his opening verses.
[4] A still older form of the story occurs in the _Pancha Tantra_ (Five Sections), a Sanskrit version of the celebrated Fables of Bidpai, in which a gluttonous ram is in the habit of going to the king's kitchen and devouring all food within his reach. One of the cooks beat him with a burning log of wood, and the ram rushed off with his blazing fleece and set the horses' stables on fire, and so forth. The story is most probably of Buddhist extraction.
[5] A Sinhalese variant of the exploit of the man of Norfolk and of the man of Gotham with the sack of meal. ”See _ante_, p. 19.” [Transcriber's note: this approximates to the text reference for Chapter II Footnote 1 in this etext.]
[6] Mr. C.J.R. le Mesurier in _The Orientalist_ (Kandy, Ceylon: 1884), pp. 233-4.
[7] _The Orientalist_, 1884, p. 234. A much fuller version, with subsequent incidents, is given in the same excellent periodical, pp.
36-38.
[8] Archie Armstrong was Court jester to James I. of England. It is needless, perhaps, to say that he had no hand in this book of facetiae, which is composed for the most part of jests taken out of earlier collections.
CHAPTER IV.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES _(continued)._
Tales of sharpers' tricks upon simpletons do not quite fall within the scope of the present series of papers, but there is one, in the _Arabian Nights_--not found, however, in our common English version of that fascinating story-book--which deserves a place among noodle-stories, since it is so diverting, is not very generally known, and is probably the original of the early Italian novel of the _Monk Transformed_, which is ascribed to Michele Colombo:
A rustic simpleton was walking homeward dragging his a.s.s after him by the halter, which a brace of sharpers observing, one said to his fellow, ”Come with me, and I will take the a.s.s from that man.” He then quietly advanced to the a.s.s, unloosed it from the halter, and gave the animal to his companion, who went off with it, after which he put the halter over his own head, and allowed the rustic to drag him for some little distance, until he with the a.s.s was fairly out of sight, when he suddenly stopped, and the man having tugged at the halter several times without effect, looked round, and, amazed to see a human being in place of his beast, exclaimed, ”Who art thou?” The sharper answered, ”I was thy a.s.s; but hear my story, for it is wonderful. I had a good and pious mother, and one day I came home intoxicated. Grieved to see me in such a state, she gently reproved me, but I, instead of being penetrated with remorse, beat her with a stick, whereupon she prayed to Allah, and, in answer to her supplication, lo! I was transformed into an a.s.s. In that shape I have continued until this day, when my mother, as it appears, has interceded for my restoration to human form, as before.” The simpleton, believing every word of this strange story, raised his eyes to heaven, saying, ”Of a truth there is no power but from Allah! But, pray, forgive me for having used thee as I have done.” The sharper readily granted his forgiveness, and went off to rejoin his companion and dispose of the a.s.s; while the simpleton returned home, and showing his wife the bridle, told her of the marvellous transformation which had occurred. His wife, in hopes of propitiating Heaven, gave alms and offered up many prayers to avert evil from them, on account of their having used a human being as an a.s.s. At length the simpleton, having remained idle at home for some time, went one day to the market to purchase another a.s.s, and on entering the place where all the animals were fastened, he saw with astonishment his old a.s.s offered for sale.
Putting his mouth to its ear, he whispered, ”Woe to thee, unlucky!
Doubtless thou hast again been intoxicated; but, by Allah, I will never buy thee!”
Another noodle-story, of a different cla.s.s, in the _Arabian Nights_, may be here cited in full from Sir R.F. Burton's translation of that delightful work, privately printed for the subscribers, and it will serve, moreover, as a fair specimen of the admirable manner in which that ripe scholar has represented in English the quaint style of his original:
[Quoth one of the learned,] I pa.s.sed once by a school wherein a schoolmaster was teaching children; so I entered, finding him a good-looking man, and a well-dressed, when he rose to me and made me sit with him. Then I examined him in the Koran, and in syntax and prosody, and lexicography; and behold, he was perfect in all required of him; and I said to him, ”Allah strengthen thy purpose! Thou art indeed versed in all that is requisite.” Thereafter I frequented him a while, discovering daily some new excellence in him, and quoth I to myself, ”This is indeed a wonder in any dominie; for the wise are agreed upon a lack of wit in children's teachers.”[1] Then I separated myself from him, and sought him and visited him only every few days, till coming to see him one day, as of wont, I found the school shut, and made inquiry of his neighbours, who replied, ”Some one is dead in his house.” So I said in my mind, ”It behoveth me to pay him a visit of condolence,” and going to his house, knocked at the door, when a slave-girl came out to me and asked, ”What dost thou want?” and I answered, ”I want thy master.” She replied, ”He is sitting alone mourning;” and I rejoined, ”Tell him that his friend So-and-so seeketh to console him.” She went in and told him; and he said, ”Admit him.” So she brought me in to him, and I found him seated alone, and his head bound with mourning fillets. So I said to him, ”Allah requite thee amply! This is a path all must perforce tread, and it behoveth thee to take patience,” adding, ”but who is dead unto thee?”
He answered, ”One who was dearest of the folk to me, and best beloved.”
”Perhaps thy father?” ”No.” ”Thy brother?” ”No.” ”One of thy kindred?”
”No.” Then asked I, ”What relation was the dead to thee?” and he answered, ”My lover.” Quoth I to myself, ”This is the first proof to swear by of his lack of wit.” So I said to him, ”a.s.suredly there be others than she, and fairer;” and he made answer, ”I never saw her that I might judge whether or no there be others fairer than she.” Quoth I to myself, ”This is another proof positive.” Then I said to him, ”And how couldst thou fall in love with one thou hast never seen?” He replied, ”Know that I was sitting one day at the window, when, lo! there pa.s.sed by a man, singing the following distich: