(4) It was the custom of a poor man in love with God to stand in a certain place; and one day a king of Egypt who had often passed him with his courtiers, stopped, and said: 'I see in you a certain quality of tranquillity and relaxation.' The fool replied: "How should I be tranquil, seeing that I am delivered up to the flies and the fleas? All day the flies torment me, and at night the fleas won't let me sleep. One tiny fly which entered the ear of Nimrod troubled the brain of that idiot for centuries. Perhaps I am the Nimrod of these times for I have had my share of my friends, the flies and the fleas.'

(5) There was once a king who had a son as charming as Joseph, full of grace and beauty. He was loved by ever)'one, and all who saw him would gladly have been the dust under his feet. If he went out at night, it was as if a new sun had risen over the desert. His eyes were the black narcissus, and when they glanced they set a world on fire. His smile scattered sugar, and wherever he walked a thousand roses bloomed, not waiting for the spring.

Now there was a simple dervish who had lost his heart to this young prince. Day and night he sat near the prince's palace, neither eating nor sleeping. His face became like yellow gold, and his ecs shed tears of silver, for his heart was cut in two. He would have died, but that from time to time he caught a glimpse of the young prince when he appeared in the bazaar. But how could such a prince comfort a poor dervish in this state? Yet the simple man, who was a shadow, a particle of an atom, wished to take the radiant sun on his breast.

One day when the prince was riding at the head of his attendants the dervish stood up and gave a cry and said: ' My reason has left me, my heart is consumed, I no longer have patience or strength to suffer,' and he beat his head on the ground in front of the prince. One of the courtiers wanted to have him killed, and went to the king. 'Sire,' he said, 'a libertine has fallen in love with your son.' The

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king was very angr)': 'Have this audacious scoundrel impaled/ he said. 'Bind him hand and foot and put his head on a stake.' The courtier went at once to do his bidding. They put a running noose on the neck of the beggar and dragged him to the stake. No one knew what it was about and no one interceded for him. When the wazir had had him brought under the gibbet, the dervish gave a cry of grief and said: 'For the love of God, give me a respite, so that at least I can say a prayer under the gibbet.' This was allowed, and the dervish prostrated himself and prayed: ' O God, since the king has given orders for my death - I, who am innocent - grant me, your ignorant servant, before I die, the good fortune to see only once the face of this young man, so that I may offer myself as a sacrifice. O God, my King, you who give ear to a thousand prayers, grant this last wish of mine.'

No sooner had the dervish uttered this prayer than the arrow of his desire reached its mark. The wazir divined his secret and took pity on him. He went to the king and explained the true state of things. At this the king became thoughtful; then compassion filled his heart and he pardoned the dervish, and said to the prince: 'Go and fetch this poor man from under the gibbet. Be gentle with him and drink with him, for he has tasted of your poison. Take him to your garden and then bring him to me.'

The young prince, another Joseph, went at once - the sun with a face of fire came face to face with an atom. This ocean of beautiful pearls went to seek a drop of water. Beat your head for joy, set your feet dancing, clap your hands! But the dervish was in despair; his tears turned the dust to mud and the world became heavy with his sighs. Even the prince himself could not help but weep. When the dervdsh saw his tears he said: 'O Prince, now you may take my life.' And so saying, he gave up the ghost and died. When he knew that he was united to his beloved no other desires were left.

O you, who at once exist and are yet a non-entity, whose happiness is mingled with unhappiness, if you have never experienced unrest, how will you appreciate tranquillity? You stretch out your hand towards the lightning and are stopped by swept-up heaps of snow. Strive valiantly, burn reason, and give yourself up to folly. If you wish to use this alchemy reflect a little and, by my example, renounce yourself; withdraw from your wandering thoughts into your soul so that you may come to spiritual poverty. As for me, who am neither I nor not-I, I have strayed from myself, and I find no other remedy than despair.

(1) Silent, alone, and without company We went, the one in front, the other after, As go the Minor Friars along their way. Upon the fable of Aesop was directed My thought, by reason of the present quarrel, Where he has spoken of the frog and mouse; For 'mo' and 'issa' are not more alike Than this one is to that, if well we couple End and beginning with a steadfast mind. And even as one thought from another springs, So afterward from that was born another, Which the first fear within me double made. Thus did I ponder: "These on our account Are laughed to scorn, with injury and scoff So great, that much I think it must annoy them. If anger be engrafted on ill-will, They will come after us more merciless Than dog upon the leveret which he seizes," I felt my hair stand all on end already With terror, and stood backwardly intent, When said I: "Master, if thou hidest not Thyself and me forthwith, of Malebranche I am in dread; we have them now behind us; I so imagine them, I already feel them."

(2) His tail was wholly quivering in the void, Contorting upwards the envenomed fork, That in the guise of scorpion armed its point. The Guide said: "Now perforce must turn aside Our way a little, even to that beast Malevolent, that yonder coucheth him." We therefore on the right side descended, And made ten steps upon the outer verge, Completely to avoid the sand and flame; And after we are come to him, I see A little farther off upon the sand A people sitting near the hollow place. Then said to me the Master: "So that full Experience of this round thou bear away, Now go and see what their condition is. There let thy conversation be concise; Till thou returnest I will speak with him, That he concede to us his stalwart shoulders." Thus farther still upon the outermost Head of that seventh circle all alone I went, where sat the melancholy folk. Out of their eyes was gushing forth their woe; This way, that way, they helped them with their hands Now from the flames and now from the hot soil.

(14) ¶There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: and there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.

(207) He who walks in the company of fools suffers a long way; company with fools, as with an enemy, is always painful; company with the wise is pleasure, like meeting with kinsfolk.

(3) I saw one made in fashion of a lute, If he had only had the groin cut off Just at the point at which a man is forked. The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts, That the face corresponds not to the belly, Compelled him so to hold his lips apart As does the hectic, who because of thirst One tow'rds the chin, the other upward turns. "O ye, who without any torment are, And why I know not, in the world of woe," He said to us, "behold, and be attentive Unto the misery of Master Adam; I had while living much of what I wished, And now, alas! a drop of water crave. The rivulets, that from the verdant hills Of Cassentin descend down into Arno, Making their channels to be cold and moist, Ever before me stand, and not in vain; For far more doth their image dry me up Than the disease which strips my face of flesh. The rigid justice that chastises me Draweth occasion from the place in which I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight.

(8) A man who had been to see the prince of Sung and had been presented with ten chariots, was putting on airs in the presence of Chuang Tzŭ. "At Ho-Shang," said the latter, "there was a poor man who supported his family by plaiting rushes. One day his son dived into the river and got a pearl worth a thousand ounces of silver. The father bade him fetch a stone and smash it to pieces, explaining that he could only have got such a pearl very deep down from under the nose of the dragon, which must have been asleep. And he said he was afraid that when the dragon waked, the boy would have a poor chance. "Now the State of Sung is deeper than a deep river, and the prince of Sung is fiercer than a dragon. To get these chariots, you must have caught him asleep. And when he wakes, you will be ground to powder." Some prince having invited Chuang Tzŭ to enter his service, Chuang Tzŭ said in reply to the envoy, "Sir, have you ever noticed a sacrificial ox? It is bedecked with ribbons and fares sumptuously. But when it comes to be slaughtered for the temple, would it not gladly exchange places with some neglected calf?" When Chuang Tzŭ was about to die, his disciples expressed a wish to give him a splendid funeral. But Chuang Tzŭ said, "With Heaven and Earth for my coffin and shell; with the sun, moon, and stars as my burial regalia; and with all creation to escort me to the grave,—are not my funeral paraphernalia ready to hand?"

Next, let me continue. When the rulers saw him and the woman who was with him erring in ignorance like beasts, they rejoiced greatly. When they learned that an immortal human was not going to pass them by, but that they would even have to fear the woman who had turned into a tree, they were troubled and said, “Is this, perhaps, the true human, who blinded us and taught us about this defiled woman who is like him, that we might be conquered?” Then the seven took counsel. They came to Adam and Eve timidly, and they said to him, “The fruit of every tree created for you in paradise may be eaten, but beware, don’t eat from the tree of knowledge. If you do eat, you will die.” After they gave them a great fright, they withdrew up to their authorities. Then came the one who is wiser than all creatures, who was called the beast. When he saw the likeness of their mother, Eve, he said to her, “What is it that god said to you? ‘Don’t eat from the tree of knowledge’?” She said, “He said not only ‘Don’t eat from it’ but also ‘Don’t touch it, lest you die.’” He said to her, “Don’t be afraid! You certainly shall not die. For he knows that when you eat from it your mind will be sobered and you will become like gods, knowing the difference between evil and good people. For he said this to you because he is jealous, so that you would not eat from it.” Now, Eve believed the words of the instructor. She looked at the tree and saw that it was beautiful and appealing, and she desired it. She took some of its fruit and ate, and she gave to her husband also, and he ate too. Then their minds opened. For when they ate, the light of knowledge shone for them. When they put on shame, they knew that they were naked with regard to knowledge. When they sobered up, they saw that they were naked, and they became enamored of one another. When they saw that their makers had beastly forms, they loathed them. They understood a great deal.

(3) It goes on falling, and the more it grows, The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, This maledict and misadventurous ditch. Descended then through many a hollow gulf, It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, They fear no cunning that may master them. Nor will I cease because another hears me; And well 'twill be for him, if still he mind him Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. Thy grandson I behold, who doth become A hunter of those wolves upon the bank Of the wild stream, and terrifies them all. He sells their flesh, it being yet alive; Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves; Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; He leaves it such, a thousand years from now In its primeval state 'tis not re-wooded." As at the announcement of impending ills The face of him who listens is disturbed, From whate'er side the peril seize upon him; So I beheld that other soul, which stood Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, When it had gathered to itself the word.

(5) It is also said, that the Pythagoreans endeavoured to perform the offices of friendship to those of their sect, though they were unknown to, and had never been seen by each other, when they had received a certain indication of the participation of the same doctrines; so that from such friendly offices the assertion may be credited, that worthy men, even though they should dwell in the most remote parts of the earth, are mutually friends, and this before they become known to and salute each other. It is said therefore, that a certain Pythagorean, travelling through a long and solitary road on foot, came to an inn; and there, from labor and other all-various causes, fell into a long and severe disease, so as to be at length in want of the necessaries of life.

The inn-keeper, however, whether from commiseration of the man, or from benevolence, supplied him with every thing that was requisite, neither sparing for this purpose any assistance or expense. But the Pythagorean falling a victim to the disease, wrote a certain symbol, before he died, in a table, and desired the inn-keeper, if he should happen to die, to suspend the table near the road, and observe whether any passenger read the symbol. For that person, said he, will repay you what you have spent on me, and will also thank you for your kindness. The inn-keeper, therefore, after the death of the Pythagorean, having buried, and paid the requisite attention to his body, had neither any hopes of being repaid, nor of receiving any recompense from some one who might read the table.

At the same time, however, being surprised at the request of the Pythagorean, he was induced to expose the writing in the public road. A long time after, therefore, a certain Pythagorean passing that way, having understood the symbol, and learnt who it was that placed the table there, and having also investigated every particular, paid the inn-keeper a much greater sum of money than he had disbursed.

(590) lion and serpent element in them disproportionately grows and gains strength? Yes. And luxury and softness are blamed, because they relax and weaken this same creature, and make a coward of him? Very true. And is not a man reproached for flattery and meanness who subordinates the spirited animal to the unruly monster, and, for the sake of money, of which he can never have enough, habituates him in the days of his youth to be trampled in the mire, and from being a lion to become a monkey? True, he said. And why are mean employments and manual arts a reproach? Only because they imply a natural weakness of the higher principle; the individual is unable to control the creatures within him, but has to court them, and his great study is how to flatter them. Such appears to be the reason. And therefore, being desirous of placing him under a rule like that of the best, we say that he ought to be the servant of the best, in whom the Divine rules; not, as Thrasymachus supposed, to the injury of the servant, but because every one had better be ruled by divine wisdom dwelling within him; or, if this be impossible, then by an external authority, in order that we may be all, as far as possible, under the same government, friends and equals. True, he said.

(1) Moreover, if we may believe in so many ancient and credible historians as have written concerning him, the words of Pythagoras contained something of a recalling and admonitory nature, which extended as far as to irrational animals; by which it may be inferred that learning predominates in those endued with intellect, since it tames even wild beasts, and those which are considered to be deprived of reason. For it is said that Pythagoras detained the Daunian bear which had most severely injured the inhabitants, and that having gently stroked it with his hand for a long time, fed it with maze and acorns, and compelled it by an oath no longer to touch any living thing, he dismissed it. But the bear immediately after hid herself in the mountains and woods, and was never seen from that time to attack any irrational animal.

Perceiving likewise an ox at Tarentum feeding in a pasture, and eating among other things green beans, he advised the herdsman to tell the ox to abstain from the beans. The herdsman, however, laughed at him, and said that he did not understand the language of oxen, but if Pythagoras did, it was in vain to advise him to speak to the ox, but fit that he himself should advise the animal to abstain from such food. Pythagoras therefore, approaching to the ear of the ox, and whispering in it for a long time, not only caused him then to refrain from beans, but it is said that he never after tasted them. This ox also lived for a long time at Tarentum near the temple of Juno, where it remained when it was old, and was called the sacred ox of Pythagoras.

It was also fed by those that came to it with human food. When likewise he happened to be conversing with his familiars about birds, symbols, and prodigies, and was observing that all these are the messengers of the Gods, sent by them to those men who are truly dear to the Gods, he is said to have brought down an eagle that was flying over Olympia, and after gently stroking, to have dismissed it. Through these things, therefore, and other things similar to these, he demonstrated that he possessed the same dominion as Orpheus, over savage animals, and that he allured and detained them by the power of voice proceeding from the mouth.

(8) Fools dwelling in darkness, wise in their own conceit, and puffed up with vain knowledge, go round and round staggering to and fro, like blind men led by the blind.

(4) A poor dendsh once fell in love with Ayaz, and the news soon spread. When Ayaz rode through the street, perfumed with musk, this spiritual wanton would wait and run out to see him, and would stare at him as a polo player fixes his eye on the ball. At last they told Mahmud about this beggar being in love with Ayaz. One day, when Ayaz was riding with the sultan, the latter stopped and looked at this dervish and he saw that the soul of Ayaz was as a grain of barley and the face of the man as a ball of dough which encloses it.

He saw that the back of the beggar was curved like a mallet, and his head was turning every way at once like the ball in polo. Mahmud said: 'Miserable beggar, do you expect to drink from the same cup as the Sultan?' 'Although you call me a beggar,' replied the dervish, 'I am not inferior to you in the play of love. Love and poverty go together. You are the sovereign, and your heart is luminous; but for love, a burning heart like mine is necessary. Your love is commonplace. I suffer from the pain of absence. You are with the beloved; but in love one must know how to endure the pain of absence.' The sultan said: 'O you who have withdrawn from ordinary existence, love to you is as a game of polo?' 'It is,' replied the beggar, 'because the ball is always in movement, as I am, and I as the ball. The ball and I have heads that turn, though we have neither hands nor feet. We can speak together about the suffering that the mallet causes us; but the ball is happier than I, for the pony touches it from time to time with its feet. The ball receives the blows of the mallet on his body, but I feel them in my heart.'

'Poor Dervish!' said the sultan, 'you boast of your poverty, but where is your evidence?'

'If I sacrifice everything for love,' replied the derdsh, 'that is a token of my spiritual poverty. And if you, O Mahmud, ever have the experience of real love, sacrifice your life for it; if not you have no right to speak of love.'

So saying, he died, and the world became dark for Mahmud.

(4) Should my heart not be wretched, my features not haggard? Should there not be sadness deep within me! Should I not look like one who has been traveling a long distance, and should ice and heat not have seared my face!..., should I not roam the wilderness? My friend, the wild ass who chased the wild donkey, panther of the wilderness, Enkidu, the wild ass who chased the wild donkey, panther of the wilderness, we joined together, and went up into the mountain. We grappled with and killed the Bull of Heaven, we destroyed Humbaba who lived in the Cedar Forest, we slew lions in the mountain passes! My friend, whom I love deeply, who went through every hard- ship with me, Enkidu, whom I love deeply, who went through every hardship with me, the fate of mankind has overtaken him.

(5) And as he finished uttering these words, A voice close by us sounded: "Peradventure Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that." At sound thereof each one of us turned round, And saw upon the left hand a great rock, Which neither I nor he before had noticed. Thither we drew; and there were persons there Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, As one through indolence is wont to stand. And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued, Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced, Holding his face low down between them bowed. "O my sweet Lord," I said, "do turn thine eye On him who shows himself more negligent Then even Sloth herself his sister were." Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed, Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh, And said: "Now go thou up, for thou art valiant." Then knew I who he was; and the distress, That still a little did my breathing quicken, My going to him hindered not; and after I came to him he hardly raised his head, Saying: "Hast thou seen clearly how the sun O'er thy left shoulder drives his chariot?"

(125) If a man offend a harmless, pure, and innocent person, the evil falls back upon that fool, like light dust thrown up against the wind.

(2) Then his wife said to him: 'This student, who is quite exhausted (with austerities), has carefully tended your fires. Let not the fires themselves blame you, but teach him.' The teacher, however, went away on a journey without having taught him. The student from sorrow was not able to eat. Then the wife of the teacher said to him: 'Student, eat! Why do you not eat?' He said: 'There are many desires in this man here, which lose themselves in different directions. I am full of sorrows, and shall take no food.'

(3) Another time when Sultan Mahmud was riding alone he met an old woodcutter leading his donkey loaded with brambles. At that moment the donkey stumbled, and as he fell the thorns skinned the old man's head. The Sultan seeing the brambles on the ground, the donkey upside down, and the man rubbing his head, asked; 'O unlucky man, do you need a friend?' 'Indeed I do,' replied the woodcutter. 'Good cavalier, if you will help me I shall reap the benefit and you will come to no harm. Your looks are a good omen for me. It is well known that one meets with good-will from those who have a pleasing countenance.' So the kind-hearted Sultan got off his horse, and having pulled the donkey to its feet, lifted up the faggot of thorns and fastened it on its back. Then he rode off to rejoin his army. He said to the soldiers: 'An old woodcutter is coming along with a donkey loaded with brambles. Bar the way so that he will have to pass in front of me.' When the woodcutter came up to the soldiers he said to himself, ' How shall I get through with this feeble beast?' So he went by another way, but catching sight of the royal parasol in the distance began to tremble, for the road he was compelled to take would bring him face to face with the Sultan. As he got nearer he was overcome with confusion for under the parasol he saw a familiar face. 'O God,' he said, 'what a state I'm in! Today I have had Mahmud for my porter.'

When he came up, Mahmud said to him: 'My poor friend, what do you do for a living?' The woodcutter replied, 'You know already. Be honest. You don't recognize me? I am a poor old man, a woodcutter by trade; day and night I gather brambles in the desert and sell them, yet my donkey dies of

hunger. If you wish me well give me some bread.' 'You poor man,' said the Sultan, 'how much do you want for your faggot?' The woodcutter replied: 'Since you do not wish to take it for nothing and I do not wish to sell it, give me a purse of gold.' At this the soldiers cried out: 'Hold your tongue, fool! Your faggot is not worth a handful of barley. You should give it for nothing.' The old man said: 'That is all very well, but its value has changed. When a lucky man like the Sultan puts his hands to my bundle of thorns they become bunches of roses. If he wishes to buy them he must pay a dinar at the very least for he has raised the value of my thorns a hundred times by touching them.'