The Tyrant, the Dervish, and the Disciple

There was once a dervish who had sixty disciples. He had taught them as well as he could, and the time had come for them to undergo a new experience.

He called the disciples together and said:

'We must now go on a long journey. Something, I am not sure what, will happen on the way. Those of you who have absorbed enough to enter this stage will be able to accompany me.

'But first, you must all memorize this phrase, “I must die instead of the dervish.” Be prepared to shout this out at any time, whenever I raise both my arms.'

Some of the disciples started muttering among themselves, now highly suspicious of the dervish’s motives. No less than fifty-nine of the sixty deserted him, saying, 'He knows that he will be in danger at some time, and is preparing to sacrifice us instead of himself!'

They said to him, 'You may even be planning some crime—perhaps even a murder; we can never follow you on terms like that.'

The dervish and his sole remaining companion started the journey.

Now, a most terrible and unjust tyrant had seized the next city shortly before they entered it. He wanted to consolidate his rule with a dramatic act of force, and called his soldiery together.

He said to them:

'Capture some wayfarer of meek aspect and bring him for judgment in the public square. I propose to sentence him as a miscreant.'

The soldiers said, 'We hear and obey!' went into the streets and pounced upon the first traveling stranger they met. He happened to be the disciple of the dervish.

The dervish followed the soldiers to the place where the king sat, while all the citizenry, hearing the drums of death and already trembling with fear, collected around.

The disciple was thrown down in front of the throne, and the king said:

'I have resolved to make an example of a vagabond, to show the people that we will not tolerate nonconformity or attempted escape. You are to die at once.'

At this, the dervish called out in a loud voice:

'Accept my life, O Mighty Monarch, instead of the life of this useless youth! I am more blameworthy than he, for it was I who induced him to embark upon a life of wandering!'

At this point, he raised both arms above his head, and the disciple cried out:

'Munificent King! Please allow me to die—I must die instead of the dervish!'

The king was quite amazed. He said to his counselors:

'What kind of people are these, vying with one another to taste death? If this is heroism, will it not inflame the people against me? Advise me as to what to do.'

The counselors conferred for a few moments. Then they said:

'Peacock of the Age! If this is heroism, there is little that we can do about it, except to act more viciously until people lose heart. But we have nothing to lose if we ask this dervish why he is anxious to die.'

When he was asked, the dervish replied:

'Your Majesty! It has been foretold that a man will die this day in this place; and that he shall rise again and thereafter be immortal. Naturally, both I and my disciple want to be that man.'

The king thought, 'Why should I make others immortal, when I myself am not?'

After a moment’s reflection, he gave orders that he should be executed immediately, instead of the wanderers. Then the worst of the king’s evil accomplices, eager for immortality, killed themselves.

None of them rose again, and the dervish and his disciple went their way during the confusion.