Story Five: The Thief in a Dervish's Cloak

A group of travelers were companions on a journey, sharing its hardships and comforts. I asked to join them, but they refused. I said: it is strange, coming from the generous character of great people, to turn away from the company of the poor and withhold their benefit and blessing. For within myself I know I have the strength and quickness to be a nimble helper to good men, never a burden on their spirits. If I cannot ride the beasts of burden, I will still hurry to serve you, carrying the heavy loads myself. One of them said: do not be hurt by what you heard. Lately a thief who looked like a dervish slipped into our company and joined our fellowship. How can people know who is inside a house? Only the writer knows what is in the letter. Since dervishes are known to be harmless, no one suspected his mischief, and they took him in as a friend. The outward mark of the mystics is the patched robe; that much is enough, so long as one lives among people. Strive in good deeds and wear whatever you like: put a crown on your head, carry a banner on your shoulder. True piety is giving up the world, lust, and vain desire, not simply giving up your clothes. It is inside armor that a real man is needed; what use are weapons on a coward? One day we traveled until nightfall, then slept at the foot of a fortress. The graceless thief took his companion's water jug, saying he was going to wash for prayer, but he went off to plunder instead. Look at this so-called ascetic who put on the holy robe: he turned the cloth of the Kaaba into a donkey's saddle-blanket. As soon as he was out of the dervishes' sight, he climbed a tower and stole a casket of jewels. By the time bright day came, that dark soul had covered a good distance while his innocent companions slept. In the morning they were all dragged to the castle, beaten, and thrown in prison. From that day on we gave up all company and chose the way of solitude. And safety lies in being alone. When one person from a group acts ignorantly, neither the humble nor the great keep their standing. Have you not heard that a single cow at pasture can foul all the cows of the village? I said: thanks and praise to God, the Mighty and Glorious, that I was not left deprived of the dervishes' blessing, even if outwardly I remained apart from their company. From the story you told I gained something useful, and this advice will serve people like me all our lives. A single crude, ill-mannered person in a gathering can deeply grieve the hearts of the wise. If they fill a pool with rosewater and a dog falls in, it turns into a filthy swamp.