The Snake-Catcher and the Frozen Snake

Not Dead, Only Frozen

He had bound it with thick ropes: that careful keeper had taken great precaution for it.During the delay (interval) of expectation and coming together, the sun of ‘Iráq shone upon the snake.The sun of the hot country warmed it; the cold humours went out of its limbs.It had been dead, and it revived: from astonishment (at feeling the sun's heat) the dragon began to uncoil itself.By the stirring of that dead serpent the people's amazement was multiplied a hundred thousandfold.With amazement they started shrieking and fled en masse from its motion.It set about bursting the bonds, and at that loud outcry (of the people) the bonds on every side went crack, crack.It burst the bonds and glided out from beneath—a hideous dragon roaring like a lion.Many people were killed in the rout: a hundred heaps were made of the fallen slain.The snake-catcher became paralysed with fear on the spot, crying, “What have I brought from the mountains and the desert?”The blind sheep awakened the wolf: unwittingly it went towards its ‘Azrá’íl (Angel of death).The dragon made one mouthful of that dolt: blood-drinking (bloodshed) is easy for Ḥajjáj.It wound and fastened itself on a pillar and crunched the bones of the devoured man.The dragon is thy sensual soul: how is it dead? It is (only) frozen by grief and lack of means.

Masnavi III.1040–1053 · tr. R. A. Nicholson, 1930

The thaw is a figure twice over. Forty-five lines earlier Rūmī calls the whole world frozen — its name, jamād, means inanimate, and jāmid means frozen — awaiting the sun of the Resurrection to show it moving (III.1008–1009); at III.1053 the frozen thing is the self, and the sun that wakes it is means.

Mathnawī III.1008–1009 and III.1053 (Nicholson 1930).


A snake-catcher hauls a frozen “dead” dragon to Baghdad for a show; the sun thaws it, and it swallows him.

Mathnawī III.976–1066, the story Nicholson lists as “The Snake-catcher and the frozen Snake”. Hunting snakes by incantation in the mountains in the days of snow, a snake-catcher finds a huge dragon he takes for dead; it is frozen. He winds it in ropes, carries it to Baghdad to show for a paltry fee, and sets up on the bank of the Tigris. While he waits for the crowd to thicken, the sun of ʿIrāq thaws the beast: it bursts its bonds, many die in the rout, and it swallows its captor. Rūmī breaks into the tale with the frozen world that will be seen to move at the Resurrection (III.1008–1009), and closes it on Moses: “It needs a Moses to kill the dragon” (III.1065), just before the heading on Pharaoh's threat to Moses. The passage is III.1040–1053.

Light

It refuses the comfort of thinking an appetite cured because it is quiet: what poverty and grief have frozen is alive, and the tale shows exactly how it wakes — by warmth, a crowd, and waiting.

Shadow

The remedy is severe — “Mortify it and become safe from (spiritual) death; have no mercy” (III.1059) — and the crowd who came to gape, “myriads of simpletons”, die in the rout alongside the showman.

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  • Attributed toRūmīAttested

    Dictated by Rūmī to Ḥusām al-Dīn Chelebi as part of the Masnavi; this tale is in Book III, which follows Book II's resumption in A.H. 662.

  • Set againstThe SerpentA modern connection

    Rūmī fixes his serpent's meaning himself — “The dragon is thy sensual soul” (III.1053) — where the serpent thread follows the creature across traditions that share only the animal.

  • Part ofThe MasnaviAttested

    Book III, lines 976–1066; the passage printed here is the thaw and Rūmī's gloss, III.1040–1053.

  • Set against‘Allah’ and ‘Here Am I’Attested

    Both use frost and grief, in opposite senses: here grief keeps the dragon of the self frozen and harmless (III.1053); some 850 lines earlier the call of the griefless comes “from a frozen heart” (III.204), and grief is what lets a man call unto God.