13- Hyjauje and Young Syed

The story of Hyjauje, the tyrannical governor of Coufeh, and the young Syed.

As Hyjauje (the Ommiad caliph) was was one day seated in his hall
of audience, surrounded by his nobles and dependents, tremblingly
awaiting his commands, for his countenance resembled that of an
enraged lion, there suddenly entered, unceremoniously, into the
assembly a beardless youth of noble but sickly aspect, arrayed in
tattered garments, for misfortune had changed his original
situation, and poverty had withered the freshness of his opening
youth. He made the customary obeisance to the governor, who
returned his salute, and said, "Who art thou, boy? what hast thou
to say, and wherefore hast thou intruded thyself into the company
of princes, as if thou wert invited? who art thou, and of whom
art thou the son?" "Of my father and mother," replied the youth.
"But how earnest thou here?" "In my clothes." "From whence?"
"From behind me." "Where art thou going?" "Before me." "Upon what
dost thou travel?" "Upon the earth" Hyjauje, vexed at the
pertness of the youth, exclaimed, "Quit this trifling, and inform
me whence thou comest." "From Egypt." "Art thou from Cairo?" "Why
askest thou?" said the boy?" "Because," replied Hyjauje, "her
sands are of gold, and her river Nile miraculously fruitful; but
her women are wanton, free to every conqueror, and her men
unstable." "I am not from thence, but from Damascus," cried the
youth." "Then," said Hyjauje, "thou art from a most rebellious
place, filled with wretched inhabitants, a wavering race, neither
Jews nor Christians." "But I am not from thence," replied the
youth, "but from Khorassan." "That is a most impure country,"
said Hyjauje, "whose religion is worthless, for the inhabitants
are of all barbarians the most savage. Plunderers of flocks, they
know not mercy, their poor are greedy, and their rich men
misers." "I am not of them," cried the youth, "but of Moussul."
"Then," exclaimed Hyjauje, "thou art of an unnatural and
adulterous race, whose youths are catamites, and whose old men
are obstinate as asses." "But I am from Yemen," said the boy. "If
so," answered the tyrant, "thou belongest to a comfortless
region, where the most honourable profession is robbery, where
the middling ranks tan hides, and where a wretched poor spin wool
and weave coarse mantles." "But I am from Mecca," said the boy."
"Then," replied Hyjauje, "thou comest from a mine of
perverseness,