Good fortune and glory still wait on thy days And rubbed in the
dust be thine envier’s nose!
May the days never stint to be white unto thee And black with
despite be the days of thy foes!
‘Welcome, O Alaeddin!’ sad the Khalif, and he replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) accepted presents; and these ten trays, with what is on them, are my present to thee.’ The Khalif accepted his gift and ordering him a robe of honour, made him Provost of the merchants and gave him a seat in the Divan. Presently, his father-in-law came in, and seeing Alaeddin seated in his place and clad in a robe of honour, said to the Khalif, ‘O King of the age, why is this man sitting in my place and wearing this robe of honour?’ Quoth the Khalif, ‘I have made him Provost of the merchants, and thou art deposed; for offices are by investiture and not in perpetuity.’ ‘Thou hast done well, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered the merchant; ‘for he is art and part of us. May God make the best of us the orderers of our affairs! How many a little one hath become great!’ Then the Khalif wrote Alaeddin a patent [of investiture] and gave it to the Master of Police, who gave it to the crier and the latter made proclamation in the Divan, saying, ‘None is Provost of the merchants but Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, and it behoves all to give heed to his words and pay him respect and honour and consideration!’ Moreover, when the Divan broke up, the Master of the Police took Alaeddin and carried him through the thoroughfares of Baghdad, whilst the crier went before him, making proclamation of his dignity. Next day, Alaeddin opened a shop for his slave Selim and set him therein, to buy and sell, whilst he himself rode to the palace and took his place in the Khalif’s Divan.
One day, as he sat in his place, one said to the Khalif, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, may thy head survive such an one the boon-companion! He is gone to the mercy of God the Most High, but may thy life be prolonged!’ Quoth the Khalif, ‘Where is Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat?’ So he went up to the Commander of the Faithful, who clad him in a splendid dress of honour and made him his boon- companion in the dead man’s room, appointing him a monthly wage of a thousand dinars. He continued to fill his new office till, one day, as he sat in the Divan, according to his wont, an Amir came up with a sword and shield in his hand and said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, mayst thou outlive the Chief of the Sixty, for he is this day dead;’ whereupon the Khalif ordered Alaeddin a dress of honour and made him Chief of the Sixty, in place of the dead man, who had neither wife nor child. So Alaeddin laid hands on his estate, and the Khalif said to him, ‘Bury him in the earth and take all he hath left of wealth and slaves, male and female.’ Then he shook the handkerchief and dismissed the Divan, whereupon Alaeddin went forth, attended by Ahmed ed Denef, captain of the right hand, and Hassan Shouman, captain of the left hand troop of the Khalif’s guard, riding at his either stirrup, each with his forty men. Presently, he turned to Hassan Shouman and his men and said to them, ‘Plead ye for me with Captain Ahmed ed Denef, that he accept me as his son before God.’ And Ahmed ed Denef assented, saying, ‘I and my forty men will go before thee to the Divan every day.’
After this, Alaeddin abode in the Khalif’s service many days; till one day it chanced that he left the Divan and returning home, dismissed Ahmed ed Denef and his men and sat down with his wife, who lighted the candles and went out of the room upon an occasion. Presently, he heard a great cry and running in haste to see what was the matter, found that it was his wife who had cried out. She was lying prone on the groudn and when he put his hand to her breast, he found her dead. Now her father’s house faced that of Alaeddin, and he, hearing her cry out, came in and said, ‘What is the matter, O my lord Alaeddin?’ ‘O my father,’ answered he, ‘may thy head outlive thy daughter Zubeideh! But the honour we owe the dead is to bury them.’ So, on the morrow, they buried her in the earth and her husband and father condoled with each other. Moreover, Alaeddin put on mourning apparel and absented himself from the Divan, abiding tearful-eyed and sorrowful- hearted. After awhile, the Khalif said to Jaafer, ‘O Vizier, what is the cause of Alaeddin’s absence from the Divan?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Jaafer, ‘he is in mourning for his wife Zubeideh;’ and the Khalif said, ‘It behoves us to pay him a visit of condolence.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ replied Jaafer. So they took horse and riding to Alaeddin’s house, came in upon him with their attendants, as he sat at home; whereupon he rose to receive them and kissed the earth before the Khalif, who said to him, ‘May God abundantly make good thy loss to thee!’ ‘May He preserve thee to us, O Commander of the Faithful!’ answered Alaeddin. Then said the Khalif, ‘O Alaeddin, why hast thou absented thyself from the Divan?’ And he replied, ‘Because of my mourning for my wife Zubeideh, O Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘Put away grief from thee,’ rejoined the prince. ‘She is dead and gone to the mercy of God the Most High, and mourning will avail thee nothing.’ But Alaeddin said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I shall never leave mourning for her till I die and they bury me by her side.’ Quoth Haroun, ‘With God is compensation for every loss, and neither wealth nor device can deliver from death. God bless him who said:
Every son of woman, how long soe’er his life be, Must one day be
carried upon the bulging bier.
How shall he have pleasure in life or hold it goodly, He unto
whose cheeks the dust must soon adhere?’
Then, when he had made an end of condoling with him, he charged him not to absent himself from the Divan and returned to his palace. On the morrow, Alaeddin mounted and riding to the court, kissed the ground before the Khalif, who rose from the throne, to greet and welcome him, and bade him take his appointed place in the Divan saying, ‘O Alaeddin, thou art my guest to-night.’ So presently he carried him into his seraglio and calling a slave- girl named Cout el Culoub, said to her, ‘Alaeddin had a wife called Zubeideh, who used to sing to him and solace him of care and trouble; but she is gone to the mercy of God the Most High, and now I desire that thou play him an air of thy rarest fashion on the lute, that he may be diverted from his grief and mourning.’ So she rose and made rare music; and the Khalif said to Alaeddin, ‘What sayst thou of this damsel’s voice?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful’, answered he, ‘Zubeideh’s voice was the finer; but she is rarely skilled in touching the lute, and her playing would make a rock dance.’ ‘Doth she please thee?’ asked the Khalif. ‘Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Alaeddin, and Haroun said, ‘By the life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, she is a gift from me to thee, she and her waiting-women!’ Alaeddin thought that the Khalif was jesting with him; but, on the morrow, he went in to Cout el Culoub and said to her, ‘I have given thee to Alaeddin;’ whereat she rejoiced, for she had seen and loved him. Then the Khalif returned to the Divan and calling porters, said to them, ‘Set Cout el Culoub and her waiting-women in a litter and carry them, together with her goods, to Alaeddin’s house.’ So they did as he bade them and left her in the upper chamber of Alaeddin’s house, whilst the Khalif sat in the hall of audience till the close of the day, when the Divan broke up and he retired to his harem.
Meanwhile, Cout el Culoub, having taken up her lodging in Alaeddin’s house, with her women, forty in all, besides eunuchs, called two of the latter and said to them, ‘Sit ye on stools, one on the right and another on the left hand of the door; and when Alaeddin comes home, kiss his hands and say to him, “Our mistress Cout el Culoub bids thee to her in the upper chamber, for the Khalif hath given her to thee, her and her women.”’ ‘We hear and obey,’ answered they and did as she bade them. So, when Alaeddin returned, he found two of the Khalif’s eunuchs sitting at the door and was amazed and said to himself, ‘Surely, this is not my own house; or else what can have happened?’ When the eunuchs saw him, they rose and kissing his hands, said to him, ‘We are of the Khalif’s household and servants to Cout el Culoub, who salutes thee, giving thee to know that the Khalif hath bestowed her on thee, her and her women, and c
raves thy company.’ Quoth Alaeddin, ‘Say ye to her, “Thou art welcome; but so long as thou abidest with me, I will not enter thy lodging, for it befits not that what was the master’s should become the servant’s;” and ask her also what was the sum of her day’s expense in the Khalif’s palace.’ So they went in to her and did his errand to her, and she replied, ‘A hundred dinars a day;’ whereupon quoth he in himself, ‘There was no need for the Khalif to give me Cout el Culoub, that I should be put to such an expense for her; but there is no help for it.’ So she abode with him awhile and he assigned her daily a hundred dinars for her maintenance, till, one day, he absented himself from the Divan and the Khalif said to Jaafer, ‘O Vizier, I gave Cout el Culoub unto Alaeddin, that she might console him for his wife; but why doth he still hold aloof from us?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Jaafer, ‘he spoke sooth who said, “Whoso findeth his beloved, forgetteth his friends.”’ ‘Belike he hath excuse for his absence,’ rejoined the Khalif; ‘but we will pay him a visit.’ (Now some days before this, Alaeddin had said to Jaafer, ‘I complained to the Khalif of my grief for the loss of my wife Zubeideh, and he gave me Cout el Culoub.’ And Jaafer replied, ‘Except he loved thee, he had not given her to thee.’ Hast thou gone in to her?’ ‘No, by Allah! answered Alaeddin. ‘I know not her length from her breadth.’ ‘And why?’ asked Jaafer. ‘O Vizier,’ replied Alaeddin, ‘what befits the master befits not the servant.’) Then the Khalif and Jaafer disguised themselves and went privily to visit Alaeddin; but he knew them and rising to them, kissed the hands of the Khalif, who looked at him and read trouble in his face. So he said to him, ‘O Alaeddin, whence cometh this trouble in which I see thee? Hast thou gone in to Cout el Culoub?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he, ‘what befits the master befits not the servant. No, I have not gone in to her nor do I know her length from her breadth; so do thou quit me of her.’ Quoth the Khalif, ‘I would fain see her and question her of her case.’ And Alaeddin replied, ‘I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful.’ So the Khalif went in to Cout el Culoub, who rose and kissed the ground before him, and said to her, ‘Hath Alaeddin gone in to thee?’ ‘No, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered she; ‘I sent to bid him to me, but he would not come.’ So he bade carry her back to the harem and saying to Alaeddin, ‘Do not absent thyself from us,’ returned to his palace. Accordingly, next morning, Alaeddin mounted and rode to the Divan, where he took his seat as Chief of the Sixty. Presently the Khalif bade his treasurer give the Vizier Jaafer ten thousand dinars and said to the latter, ‘I charge thee to go down to the slave-market and buy Alaeddin a slave-girl with this sum.’ So Jaafer took Alaeddin and went down with him to the bazaar. As change would have it, that very day, the Amir Khalid, Chief of the Baghdad Police, had gone down to the market to buy a slave-girl for his son Hebezlem Bezazeh. Now this son he had by his wife Khatoun, and he was foul of favour and had reached the age of twenty, without learning to ride, albeit his father was a valiant cavalier and a doughty champion and delighted in battle and adventure. One night, he had a dream of dalliance in sleep and told his mother, who rejoiced and told his father, saying, ‘Fain would I find him a wife, for he is now apt for marriage.’ Quoth Khalid, ‘He is so foul of favour and withal so evil of odour, so sordid and churlish, that no woman would accept of him.’ And she answered, ‘We will buy him a slave- girl.’ So it befell, for the accomplishment of that which God the Most High had decreed, that the Amir and his son went down, on the same day as Jaafer and Alaeddin, to the market, where they saw a beautiful girl, full of grace and symmetry, in the hands of a broker, and the Vizier said to the latter, ‘O broker, ask her owner if he will take a thousand dinars for her.’ The broker passed by the Amir and his son with the slave and Hebezlem took one look of her, that cost him a thousand sighs; and he fell passionately in love with her and said, ‘O my father, buy me yonder slave-girl.’ So the Amir called the broker, who brought the girl to him, and asked her her name. ‘My name is Jessamine,’ replied she; and he said to Hebezlem, ‘O my son, an she please thee, bid for her.’ Then he asked the broker what had been bidden for her and he replied, ‘A thousand dinars.’ ‘She is mine for a thousand and one,’ said Hebezlem, and the broker passed on to Alaeddin, who bid two thousand dinars for her; and as often as Hebezlem bid another dinar, Alaeddin bid a thousand. The Amir’s son was vexed at this and said to the broker, ‘Who is it that bids against me for the slave-girl?’ ‘It is the Vizier Jaafer,’ answered the broker, ‘who is minded to buy her for Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.’ Alaeddin continued to bid for her till he brought her price up to ten thousand dinars, and her owner sold her to him for that sum. So he took the girl and said to her, ‘I give thee thy freedom for the love of God the Most High.’ Then he married her and carried her to his house. When the broker returned, after having delivered the girl and received his brokerage, Hebezlem called him and said to him, ‘Where is the girl?’ Quoth he, ‘She was bought for ten thousand dinars by Alaeddin, who hath set her free and married her.’ At this the young man was greatly cast down and heaving many a sigh, returned home, sick for love of the damsel. He threw himself on his bed and refused food, and passion and love-longing were sore upon him. When his mother saw him in this plight, she said to him, ‘God keep thee, O my son! What ails thee?’ And he answered, ‘Buy me Jessamine, O my mother.’ ‘When the flower-seller passes,’ said she, ‘I will buy thee a basketful of jessamine.’ Quoth he, ‘It is not the jessamine one smells I want, but a slave girl named Jessamine, whom my father would not buy for me.’ So she said to her husband, ‘Why didst thou not buy him the girl?’ And he replied, ‘What is fit for the master is not fit for the servant, and I have no power to take her; for no less a man bought her than Alaeddin, Chief of the Sixty.’ Then the youth’s weakness redoubled upon him, till he could neither sleep nor eat, and his mother bound her head with the fillets of mourning. Presently, as she sat at home, lamenting over her son, there came in to her an old woman, known as the mother of Ahmed Kemakim the arch-thief, a knave who would bore through the stoutest wall and scale the highest and steal the very kohl from the eye. From his earliest years he had been given to these foul practices, till they made him captain of the watch, when he committed a robbery and the Chief of the Police, taking him in the act, carried him to the Khalif, who bade put him to death. But he sought protection of the Vizier, whose intercession the Khalif never rejected; so he pleaded for him with the Commander of the Faithful, who said, ‘How canst thou intercede for a wretch who is the pest of the human race?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Jaafer, ‘do thou imprison him; he who built the [first] prison was a sage, seeing that a prison is the sepulchre of the live and a cause for their enemies to exult.’ So the Khalif bade lay him in chains and write thereon, ‘Appointed to remain until death and not to be loosed but on the bench of the washer of the dead.’ And they fettered him and cast him into prison. Now his mother was a frequent visitor to the house of the Master of the Police and used to go in to her son in prison and say to him, ‘Did I not warn thee to turn from thy wicked ways?’ ‘God decreed this to me,’ would he answer; ‘but, O my mother, when thou visitest the Amir’s wife, make her intercede for me with her husband.’ So when the old woman came in to the Lady Khatoun, she found her bound with the fillets of mourning and said to her, ‘Wherefore dost thou mourn?’ ‘For my son Hebezlem Bezazeh,’ answered she, and the old woman exclaimed, ‘God keep thy son! What hath befallen him?’ So Khatoun told her the whole story, and she said, ‘What wouldst thou say of him who should find means to save thy son?’ ‘And what wilt thou do?’ asked the lady. Quoth the old woman, ‘I have a son called Ahmed Kemakim the arch-thief, who lies chained in prison, and on his fetters is written, “Appointed to remain till death.” So do thou don thy richest clothes and trinkets and present thyself to thy husband with an open and smiling favour; and when he seeks of thee what men use to seek of women, put him off and say, “By Allah, it is a strange thing! When a man desires aught of his wife, he i
mportunes her till she satisfies him; but if a wife desire aught of her husband, he will not grant it to her.” Then he will say, “What dost thou want?” And do thou answer, “First swear to grant my request.” If he swear to thee by his head or by Allah, say to him, “Swear to me the oath of divorce,” and so not yield to him, except he do this. Then, if he swear to thee the oath of divorce, say to him, “Thou hast in prison a man called Ahmed Kemakim, and he has a poor mother, who is instant with me to urge thee to intercede for him with the Khalif, that he may relent towards him and thou earn a reward from God.”’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered Khatoun. So when her husband came in to her, she did as the old woman had taught her and extorted the required oath from him, before she would yield to his wishes. He lay with her that night and on the morrow, after he had made his ablutions and prayed the morning prayers, he repaired to the prison and said to Ahmed Kemakim, ‘Harkye, O arch-thief, dost thou repent of thy ill deeds?’ ‘I do indeed repent and turn to God,’ answered he, ‘and say with heart and tongue, “I ask pardon of Allah.”’ So he carried him, still chained, to the Divan and kissed the earth before the Khalif, who said to him, ‘O Amir Khalid, what seekest thou?’ Then he brought forward Ahmed Kemakim, shuffling in his fetters, and the Khalif said to him, ‘O Kemakim, art thou yet alive?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he, ‘the wretched are long-lived.’ Then said the Khalif to the Amir, ‘Why have thou brought him hither?’ And he replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, he hath a poor, desolate mother, who hath none but him, and she hath had recourse to thy slave, imploring him to intercede with thee to set him free and make him Captain of the Watch as before; for he repenteth of his evil courses.’ Quoth the Khalif to Ahmed, ‘Dost thou repent of thy sins?’ ‘I do indeed repent to God, O Commander of the Faithful,’ answered he; whereupon the Khalif called for the blacksmith and made him strike off his irons on the bench of the washer of the dead. Moreover, he restored him to his former office and charged him to walk in the way of good and righteousness. So he kissed the Khalif’s hands and donning the captain’s habit, went forth, whilst they made proclamation of his appointment.
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