THIS, O my Best Beloved, is a story—a new and a wonderful story—a
story quite different from the other stories—a story about The Most Wise
Sovereign Suleiman-bin-Daoud—Solomon the Son of David.
There are three hundred and fifty-five stories about
Suleiman-bin-Daoud; but this is not one of them. It is not the story of
the Lapwing who found the Water; or the Hoopoe who shaded
Suleimanbin-Daoud from the heat. It is not the story of the Glass
Pavement, or the Ruby with the Crooked Hole, or the Gold Bars of Balkis.
It is the story of the Butterfly that Stamped.
Now attend all over again and listen!
Suleiman-bin-Daoud was wise. He understood what the beasts said, what
the birds said, what the fishes said, and what the insects said. He
understood what the rocks said deep under the earth when they bowed in
towards each other and groaned; and he understood what the trees said
when they rustled in the middle of the morning. He understood
everything, from the bishop on the bench to the hyssop on the wall, and
Balkis, his Head Queen, the Most Beautiful Queen Balkis, was nearly as
wise as he was.
Suleiman-bin-Daoud was strong. Upon the third finger of the right
hand he wore a ring. When he turned it once, Afrits and Djinns came Out
of the earth to do whatever he told them. When he turned it twice,
Fairies came down from the sky to do whatever he told them; and when he
turned it three times, the very great angel Azrael of the Sword came
dressed as a water-carrier, and told him the news of the three worlds,
Above—Below—and Here.
And yet Suleiman-bin-Daoud was not proud. He very seldom showed off,
and when he did he was sorry for it. Once he tried to feed all the
animals in all the world in one day, but when the food was ready an
Animal came out of the deep sea and ate it up in three mouthfuls.
Suleiman-bin-Daoud was very surprised and said, ‘O Animal, who are you?’
And the Animal said, ‘O King, live for ever! I am the smallest of
thirty thousand brothers, and our home is at the bottom of the sea. We
heard that you were going to feed all the animals in all the world, and
my brothers sent me to ask when dinner would be ready.’
Suleiman-bin-Daoud was more surprised than ever and said, ‘O Animal, you
have eaten all the dinner that I made ready for all the animals in the
world.’ And the Animal said, ‘O King, live for ever, but do you really
call that a dinner? Where I come from we each eat twice as much as that
between meals.’ Then Suleiman-bin-Daoud fell flat on his face and said,
‘O Animal! I gave that dinner to show what a great and rich king I was,
and not because I really wanted to be kind to the animals. Now I am
ashamed, and it serves me right. Suleiman-bin-Daoud was a really truly
wise man, Best Beloved. After that he never forgot that it was silly to
show off; and now the real story part of my story begins.
He married ever so many wifes. He married nine hundred and
ninety-nine wives, besides the Most Beautiful Balkis; and they all lived
in a great golden palace in the middle of a lovely garden with
fountains. He didn’t really want nine-hundred and ninety-nine wives, but
in those days everybody married ever so many wives, and of course the
King had to marry ever so many more just to show that he was the King.
Some of the wives were nice, but some were simply horrid, and the
horrid ones quarrelled with the nice ones and made them horrid too, and
then they would all quarrel with Suleiman-bin-Daoud, and that was horrid
for him. But Balkis the Most Beautiful never quarrelled with
Suleiman-bin-Daoud. She loved him too much. She sat in her rooms in the
Golden Palace, or walked in the Palace garden, and was truly sorry for
him.
Of course if he had chosen to turn his ring on his finger and call up
the Djinns and the Afrits they would have magicked all those nine
hundred and ninety-nine quarrelsome wives into white mules of the desert
or greyhounds or pomegranate seeds; but Suleiman-bin-Daoud thought that
that would be showing off. So, when they quarrelled too much, he only
walked by himself in one part of the beautiful Palace gardens and wished
he had never been born.
One day, when they had quarrelled for three weeks—all nine hundred
and ninety-nine wives together—Suleiman-bin-Daoud went out for peace and
quiet as usual; and among the orange trees he met Balkis the Most
Beautiful, very sorrowful because Suleiman-bin-Daoud was so worried. And
she said to him, ‘O my Lord and Light of my Eyes, turn the ring upon
your finger and show these Queens of Egypt and Mesopotamia and Persia
and China that you are the great and terrible King.’ But
Suleiman-bin-Daoud shook his head and said, ‘O my Lady and Delight of my
Life, remember the Animal that came out of the sea and made me ashamed
before all the animals in all the world because I showed off. Now, if I
showed off before these Queens of Persia and Egypt and Abyssinia and
China, merely because they worry me, I might be made even more ashamed
than I have been.’
And Balkis the Most Beautiful said, ‘O my Lord and Treasure of my Soul, what will you do?’
And Suleiman-bin-Daoud said, ‘O my Lady and Content of my Heart, I
shall continue to endure my fate at the hands of these nine hundred and
ninety-nine Queens who vex me with their continual quarrelling.’
So he went on between the lilies and the loquats and the roses and
the cannas and the heavy-scented ginger-plants that grew in the garden,
till he came to the great camphor-tree that was called the Camphor Tree
of Suleiman-bin-Daoud. But Balkis hid among the tall irises and the
spotted bamboos and the red lillies behind the camphor-tree, so as to be
near her own true love, Suleiman-bin-Daoud.
Presently two Butterflies flew under the tree, quarrelling.
Suleiman-bin-Daoud heard one say to the other, ‘I wonder at your
presumption in talking like this to me. Don’t you know that if I stamped
with my foot all Suleiman-bin-Daoud’s Palace and this garden here would
immediately vanish in a clap of thunder.’
Then Suleiman-bin-Daoud forgot his nine hundred and ninety-nine
bothersome wives, and laughed, till the camphor-tree shook, at the
Butterfly’s boast. And he held out his finger and said, ‘Little man,
come here.’
The Butterfly was dreadfully frightened, but he managed to fly up to
the hand of Suleiman-bin-Daoud, and clung there, fanning himself.
Suleiman-bin-Daoud bent his head and whispered very softly, ‘Little man,
you know that all your stamping wouldn’t bend one blade of grass. What
made you tell that awful fib to your wife?—for doubtless she is your
wife.’
The Butterfly looked at Suleiman-bin-Daoud and saw the most wise
King’s eye twinkle like stars on a frosty night, and he picked up his
courage with both wings, and he put his head on one side and said, ‘O
King, live for ever. She is my wife; and you know what wives are like.
Suleiman-bin-Daoud smiled in his beard and said, ‘Yes, I know, little brother.
‘One must keep them in order somehow, said the Butterfly, and she has
been quarrelling with me all the morning. I said that to quiet her.’
And Suleiman-bin-Daoud said, ‘May it quiet her. Go back to your wife, little brother, and let me hear what you say.’
Back flew the Butterfly to his wife, who was all of a twitter behind a
leaf, and she said, ‘He heard you! Suleiman-bin-Daoud himself heard
you!’
‘Heard me!’ said the Butterfly. ‘Of course he did. I meant him to hear me.’
‘And what did he say? Oh, what did he say?’
‘Well,’ said the Butterfly, fanning himself most importantly,
‘between you and me, my dear—of course I don’t blame him, because his
Palace must have cost a great deal and the oranges are just ripening,—he
asked me not to stamp, and I promised I wouldn’t.’
‘Gracious!’ said his wife, and sat quite quiet; but
Suleiman-bin-Daoud laughed till the tears ran down his face at the
impudence of the bad little Butterfly.
Balkis the Most Beautiful stood up behind the tree among the red
lilies and smiled to herself, for she had heard all this talk. She
thought, ‘If I am wise I can yet save my Lord from the persecutions of
these quarrelsome Queens,’ and she held out her finger and whispered
softly to the Butterfly’s Wife, ‘Little woman, come here.’ Up flew the
Butterfly’s Wife, very frightened, and clung to Balkis’s white hand.
Balkis bent her beautiful head down and whispered, ‘Little woman, do you believe what your husband has just said?’
The Butterfly’s Wife looked at Balkis, and saw the most beautiful
Queen’s eyes shining like deep pools with starlight on them, and she
picked up her courage with both wings and said, ‘O Queen, be lovely for
ever. You know what men-folk are like.’
And the Queen Balkis, the Wise Balkis of Sheba, put her hand to her lips to hide a smile and said, ‘Little sister, I know.’
‘They get angry,’ said the Butterfly’s Wife, fanning herself quickly,
‘over nothing at all, but we must humour them, O Queen. They never mean
half they say. If it pleases my husband to believe that I believe he
can make Suleiman-bin-Daoud’s Palace disappear by stamping his foot, I’m
sure I don’t care. He’ll forget all about it to-morrow.’
‘Little sister,’ said Balkis, ‘you are quite right; but next time he
begins to boast, take him at his word. Ask him to stamp, and see what
will happen. We know what men-folk are like, don’t we? He’ll be very
much ashamed.’
Away flew the Butterfly’s Wife to her husband, and in five minutes they were quarrelling worse than ever.
‘Remember!’ said the Butterfly. ‘Remember what I can do if I stamp my foot.’
‘I don’t believe you one little bit,’ said the Butterfly’s Wife. ‘I
should very much like to see it done. Suppose you stamp now.’
‘I promised Suleiman-bin-Daoud that I wouldn’t,’ said the Butterfly, ‘and I don’t want to break my promise.’
‘It wouldn’t matter if you did,’ said his wife. ‘You couldn’t bend a
blade of grass with your stamping. I dare you to do it,’ she said.
Stamp! Stamp! Stamp!’
Suleiman-bin-Daoud, sitting under the camphor-tree, heard every word
of this, and he laughed as he had never laughed in his life before. He
forgot all about his Queens; he forgot all about the Animal that came
out of the sea; he forgot about showing off. He just laughed with joy,
and Balkis, on the other side of the tree, smiled because her own true
love was so joyful.
Presently the Butterfly, very hot and puffy, came whirling back under
the shadow of the camphor-tree and said to Suleiman, ‘She wants me to
stamp! She wants to see what will happen, O Suleiman-bin-Daoud! You know
I can’t do it, and now she’ll never believe a word I say. She’ll laugh
at me to the end of my days!’
‘No, little brother,’ said Suleiman-bin-Daoud, ‘she will never laugh
at you again,’ and he turned the ring on his finger—just for the little
Butterfly’s sake, not for the sake of showing off,—and, lo and behold,
four huge Djinns came out of the earth!
‘Slaves,’ said Suleiman-bin-Daoud, ‘when this gentleman on my finger’
(that was where the impudent Butterfly was sitting) ‘stamps his left
front forefoot you will make my Palace and these gardens disappear in a
clap of thunder. When he stamps again you will bring them back
carefully.’
‘Now, little brother,’ he said, ‘go back to your wife and stamp all you’ve a mind to.’
Away flew the Butterfly to his wife, who was crying, ‘I dare you to
do it! I dare you to do it! Stamp! Stamp now! Stamp!’ Balkis saw the
four vast Djinns stoop down to the four corners of the gardens with the
Palace in the middle, and she clapped her hands softly and said, ‘At
last Suleiman-bin-Daoud will do for the sake of a Butterfly what he
ought to have done long ago for his own sake, and the quarrelsome Queens
will be frightened!’
The the butterfly stamped. The Djinns jerked the Palace and the
gardens a thousand miles into the air: there was a most awful
thunder-clap, and everything grew inky-black. The Butterfly’s Wife
fluttered about in the dark, crying, ‘Oh, I’ll be good! I’m so sorry I
spoke. Only bring the gardens back, my dear darling husband, and I’ll
never contradict again.’
The Butterfly was nearly as frightened as his wife, and
Suleiman-bin-Daoud laughed so much that it was several minutes before he
found breath enough to whisper to the Butterfly, ‘Stamp again, little
brother. Give me back my Palace, most great magician.’
‘Yes, give him back his Palace,’ said the Butterfly’s Wife, still
flying about in the dark like a moth. ‘Give him back his Palace, and
don’t let’s have any more horrid.magic.’
‘Well, my dear,’ said the Butterfly as bravely as he could, ‘you see
what your nagging has led to. Of course it doesn’t make any difference
to me—I’m used to this kind of thing—but as a favour to you and to
Suleiman-bin-Daoud I don’t mind putting things right.’
So he stamped once more, and that instant the Djinns let down the
Palace and the gardens, without even a bump. The sun shone on the
dark-green orange leaves; the fountains played among the pink Egyptian
lilies; the birds went on singing, and the Butterfly’s Wife lay on her
side under the camphor-tree waggling her wings and panting, ‘Oh, I’ll be
good! I’ll be good!’
Suleiman-bin-Daolld could hardly speak for laughing. He leaned back
all weak and hiccoughy, and shook his finger at the Butterfly and said,
‘O great wizard, what is the sense of returning to me my Palace if at
the same time you slay me with mirth!’
Then came a terrible noise, for all the nine hundred and ninety-nine
Queens ran out of the Palace shrieking and shouting and calling for
their babies. They hurried down the great marble steps below the
fountain, one hundred abreast, and the Most Wise Balkis went statelily
forward to meet them and said, ‘What is your trouble, O Queens?’
They stood on the marble steps one hundred abreast and shouted, ‘What
is our trouble? We were living peacefully in our golden palace, as is
our custom, when upon a sudden the Palace disappeared, and we were left
sitting in a thick and noisome darkness; and it thundered, and Djinns
and Afrits moved about in the darkness! That is our trouble, O Head
Queen, and we are most extremely troubled on account of that trouble,
for it was a troublesome trouble, unlike any trouble we have known.’
Then Balkis the Most Beautiful Queen—Suleiman-bin-Daoud’s Very Best
Beloved—Queen that was of Sheba and Sable and the Rivers of the Gold of
the South—from the Desert of Zinn to the Towers of Zimbabwe—Balkis,
almost as wise as the Most Wise Suleiman-bin-Daoud himself, said, ‘It is
nothing, O Queens! A Butterfly has made complaint against his wife
because she quarrelled with him, and it has pleased our Lord
Suleiman-bin-Daoud to teach her a lesson in low-speaking and humbleness,
for that is counted a virtue among the wives of the butterflies.’
Then up and spoke an Egyptian Queen—the daughter of a Pharoah—and she
said, ‘Our Palace cannot be plucked up by the roots like a leek for the
sake of a little insect. No! Suleiman-bin-Daoud must be dead, and what
we heard and saw was the earth thundering and darkening at the news.’
Then Balkis beckoned that bold Queen without looking at her, and said to her and to the others, ‘Come and see.’
They came down the marble steps, one hundred abreast, and beneath his
camphor-tree, still weak with laughing, they saw the Most Wise King
Suleiman-bin-Daoud rocking back and forth with a Butterfly on either
hand, and they heard him say, ‘O wife of my brother in the air, remember
after this, to please your husband in all things, lest he be provoked
to stamp his foot yet again; for he has said that he is used to this
magic, and he is most eminently a great magician—one who steals away the
very Palace of Suleirnan-bin-Daoud himself. Go in peace, little folk!’
And he kissed them on the wings, and they flew away.
Then all the Queens except Balkis—the Most Beautiful and Splendid
Balkis, who stood apart smiling—fell flat on their faces, for they said,
‘If these things are done when a Butterfly is displeased with his wife,
what shall be done to us who have vexed our King with our loud-speaking
and open quarrelling through many days?’
Then they put their veils over their heads, and they put their hands
over their mouths, and they tiptoed back to the Palace most mousy-quiet.
Then Balkis—The Most Beautiful and Excellent Balkis—went forward
through the red lilies into the shade of the camphor-tree and laid her
hand upon Suleiman-bin-Daoud’s shoulder and said, ‘O my Lord and
Treasure of my Soul, rejoice, for we have taught the Queens of Egypt and
Ethiopia and Abyssinia and Persia and India and China with a great and a
memorable teaching.’
And Suleiman-bin-Daoud, still looking after the Butterflies where
they played in the sunlight, said, ‘O my Lady and Jewel of my Felicity,
when did this happen? For I have been jesting with a Butterfly ever
since I came into the garden.’ And he told Balkis what he had done.
Balkis—The tender and Most Lovely Balkis—said, ‘O my Lord and Regent
of my Existence, I hid behind the camphor-tree and saw it all. It was I
who told the Butterfly’s Wife to ask the Butterfly to stamp, because I
hoped that for the sake of the jest my Lord would make some great magic
and that the Queens would see it and be frightened.’ And she told him
what the Queens had said and seen and thought.
Then Suleiman-bin-Daoud rose up from his seat under the camphor-tree,
and stretched his arms and rejoiced and said, ‘O my Lady and Sweetener
of my Days, know that if I had made a magic against my Queens for the
sake of pride or anger, as I made that feast for all the animals, I
should certainly have been put to shame. But by means of your wisdom I
made the magic for the sake of a jest and for the sake of a little
Butterfly, and—behold—it has also delivered me from the vexations of my
vexatious wives! Tell me, therefore, O my Lady and Heart of my Heart,
how did you come to be so wise?’ And Balkis the Queen, beautiful and
tall, looked up into Suleiman-bin-Daoud’s eyes and put her head a little
on one side, just like the Butterfly, and said, ‘First, O my Lord,
because I loved you; and secondly, O my Lord, because I know what
women-folk are.’
Then they went up to the Palace and lived happily ever afterwards.
But wasn’t it clever of Balkis?
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