Durwesh never knew his victuals

TALE XXIII

I heard of a certain rich man, who was as notorious for parsimony as Hatim Tai for liberality. His external form was adorned with wealth, but the meanness of his disposition was so radicated, that he never gave even a loaf of bread to any one: he would not have bestowed a scrap on the cat of Abu Horiera, nor thrown a bone to the dog of companions of the cave. In short, no one ever saw his door open nor his table spread. A Durwesh never knew his victuals, excepting by the smell; no bird ever picked up any crumbs that fell from his table.

I heard that he was sailing on the Mediterranean Sea towards Egypt, with all the pride of Pharaoh in his imagination, according to the word of God, ‘ Until the time that he was drowned.’ Suddenly a contrary wind assailed the ship, in the manner as they have said, ‘ What can the heart do that it may not record with your sorrowful disposition; the north wind is not always favorable for the ship.’ He lifted up the hands of imploration, and uttered ineffectual lamentations. God hath said, ‘ “When you embark on ships offer up your prayers unto the Lord.’

Of what benefit will it be to the servant in the time of need, to lift up his hands in imploration, which are extended during prayers, but when any favour is wanted are folded under his arms? ‘ Bestow comfort on others with silver and gold, and from thence derive also benefit yourself. Know thou, that this edifice of yours will remain, use therefore bricks of gold and bricks of silver.’

They have related, that he had poor relations in Egypt, who were enriched with the remainder of his wealth. At his death they rent their old garments and made up silks and damask. In that same week I saw one of them riding a fleet horse, with an angelic youth running after him. I said, “Alas! if the dead man should return amongst his tribe and relations, the heirs would feel more sorrow in restoring him his estate than they suffered on account of his death.” On the strength of the acquaintance which had formerly subsisted between us, I pulled his sleeve, and said, “Enjoy thou, 0 good man of happy endowments, that wealth which the late possessor accumulated to no purpose.”