Then he set the jeweller’s wife and her maid in an upper chamber, appointing a black slave-girl to carry them their meat and drink Moreover, he said to Helimeh, ‘Ye shall abide imprisoned in this chamber, thou and thy maid, till I find one who will buy you, when I will sell you to him. And if ye resist, I will kill you both, for thou art a traitress, and there is no good in thee.’ ‘Do thy will,’ answered she. ‘I deserve all thou canst do with me.’ Then he locked the door on them and gave his women a charge respecting them, saying, ‘Let none go up to them nor speak with them, save the black slave-girl, who shall give them their meat and drink through the chamber-window.’ So she abode with her maid, weeping and repenting her of that which she had done with her husband.
Meanwhile Abdurrehman sent out the marriage-brokers, to look out a wife of rank and worth for his son, and they ceased not to make search, and as often as they saw one girl, they heard of a fairer than she, till they came to the house of the Sheikh el Islam and saw his daughter. Now she had no equal in Cairo for beauty and grace and symmetry, and she was a thousand times handsomer than the jeweller’s wife. So they told Abdurrehman and he and the notables repaired to her father and sought her in marriage of him. Then they drew up the contract and made her a splendid wedding. Moreover, Abdurrehman gave bride-feasts and held open house forty days.
On the first day, he invited the doctors of the law and they held a splendid nativity On the morrow, he invited all the merchants, and so on during the rest of the forty days, making a banquet every day to one or other class of folk, till he had bidden all the men of learning and emirs and beys and magistrates, whilst the drums beat and the flutes sounded and the merchant sat to receive the guests, with his son by his side, that he might divert himself by gazing on the folk, as they ate from the tables. Every night Abdurrehman illuminated the street and the quarter with lamps and there came all the mimes and jugglers and mountebanks and played all manner sports; and indeed it was a peerless wedding. On the last day he invited the poor and needy, far and near, and they came in troops and ate, whilst the merchant sat, with his son by his side.
Presently, behold, Ubeid the jeweller entered, with a company of poor folk, and he was naked and weary and bore on his face the marks of travel. When Kemerezzeman saw him, he knew him and said to his father, ‘Look, O my father, at yonder poor man that is but now come in.’ So he looked and saw him clad in worn clothes and on him a patched gown worth two dirhems: his face was pale and he was covered with dust and was as he were an offcast of the pilgrimage. He was groaning as groans the sick man and the needy, walking with a tottering gait and swaying right and left, and indeed there was realized in him the saying of the poet:
Lack-gold abaseth man and cloth his worth away, Even as the setting sun that pales with ended day.
He passeth ‘mongst the folk and fain would hide his head; And when alone, he weeps with tears that never stay.
Absent, none taketh heed to him or his concerns; Present, he hath no part in life or pleasance aye.
By, Allah, whenas men with poverty are cursed, But strangers midst their kin and countrymen are they!
And that of another:
All to the poor man’s contrary, a hindrance and a woe; The whole world shuts its doors on him, wherever he doth go.
Thou seest him in abhorrence held, though he no culprit be; He sees hostility, the cause whereof he may not know.
Even the dogs, when they behold a man of fortune, straight Do follow him and fawn on him and wag their tails, I trow;
But if, one day, they see a poor and miserable wight, They bark at him incontinent and eke their teeth they show.
And yet another:
So but a man be blessed with luck and power and sway, Calamities and woes still turn from him away.
The loved one to him comes without a rendezvous, Unsought, and eke the spy the pimp for him doth play.
The folk as singing rate the rumbling of his guts And when he letteth wind, “ He smelleth sweet,” they say.
‘O my son,’ said the merchant, ‘who is this?’ And Kemerezzeman replied, ‘This is Master Ubeid the jeweller, husband of the woman who is imprisoned with us.’ Quoth Abdurrehman, ‘Is this he of whom thou toldest me?’ ‘Yes,’ answered his son; ‘and indeed I know him well.’
Now the manner of Ubeid’s coming thither was on this wise. When he had taken leave of Kemerezzeman, he went to his shop, where there came to him a job of work and he wrought at it all day. At eventide he locked up his shop and going home, laid his hand on the door, whereupon it opened and he entered and found neither his wife nor the slave-girl, but saw the house in the sorriest of plights, realizing the saying of the poet:
Once was it as a beehive stocked and full of bees galore; But, when they left it, it became devoid of all its store.
It seems to-day as ff it ne’er had been inhabited Or as if Death had taken those who dwelt therein of yore
When he saw the house empty, he turned right and left and went round about the place, like a madman, but found no one. Then he opened the door of his treasure-closet, but found therein nought of his money nor his treasures; whereupon he awoke from his delusion and shook off his infatuation and knew that it was his wife herself who had given him the change and outwitted him with her wiles. He wept for that which had betided, but kept his affair secret, so none of his enemies might exult over him nor any of his friends be troubled, knowing that, if he dis- covered his secret, it would bring him nought but affront and blame from the folk; wherefore he said to himself, ‘O Ubeid, conceal that which hath befallen thee of trouble and affliction; it behoveth thee to do in accordance with the saying of the poet:
If a man’s breast be straitened with a secret he cloth hide, Yet straiter’s his who to the folk his secret cloth confide.’
Then he locked up his house and gave his shop in charge of one of his journeymen, to whom said he, ‘My friend the young merchant hath invited me and my wife to accompany him to Cairo, that we may divert ourselves with the sight of the city, and swears that he will not depart except he carry us with him. So, O my son, I make thee my steward in the shop, and if the king ask for me, say thou to him, “He is gone with his wife to the Holy House of God [at Mecca].”’ Then he sold some of his effects and bought mules and camels and slaves. Moreover, he bought a slave-girl and placing her in a litter, set out from Bassora after ten days. His friends took leave of him and none doubted but that he had taken his wife and gone on the pilgrimage, and the folk rejoiced in this, for that God had delivered them from being shut up in the mosques and houses every Friday. Quoth some of them, ‘God grant he may never return to Bassora, so we may no more be shut up in the mosques and houses every Friday!’ For that this usage had caused the people of Bassora exceeding vexation. Quoth another, ‘Methinks he will not return, by reason of the praying of the people of Bassora against him.’ And yet another, ‘ If he return, it will not be but in reversed case.’
So the folk rejoiced with an exceeding joy in the jeweller’s departure, after they had been in sore chagrin, and even their cats and dogs were eased. When Friday came round, however, the crier proclaimed as usual that the people should repair to the mosques two hours before the time of prayer or else shut themselves up in their houses, together with their cats and dogs; whereat their breasts were straitened and they all assembled and betaking themselves to the king’s divan, stood before him and said, ‘O king of the age, the jeweller hath taken his wife and departed on the pilgrimage to the Holy House of God: so the cause of our restraint hath ceased to be, and why therefore are we now shut up?’ Quoth the king, ‘How came this traitor to depart without telling me? But, when he comes back from his journey, all will be well: so go ye to your shops and sell and buy, for this [restriction] is removed from you.’
Meanwhile the jeweller fared on ten days’ journey, and as he drew near Baghdad, there befell him that which had befallen Kemerezzeman, before his entry into Bassora; for the wild Arabs came out upon him and stripped him and took all
he had and he only escaped by feigning himself dead. As soon as they were gone, he rose and fared on, naked as he was, till he came to a village, where God inclined to him the hearts of certain charitable folk, who covered his nakedness with some old clothes, and he begged his way from town to town, till he reached the city of Cairo the [God-]guarded. Being racked with hunger, he went about begging in the markets, till one of the townsfolk said to him, ‘O poor man, get thee to the house of the wedding-festival and eat and drink; for to-day they hold open house for poor folk and strangers.’ Quoth he, me and I will show it to thee.’ So he followed him, till he brought him to Abdurrehman’s house and said to him, ‘This is the house of the wedding; enter and fear not, for there is no doorkeeper at the door of the festival.’
So he entered and Kemerezzeman knew him and told his father, who said, ‘O my son, leave him awhile: belike he is hungry; so let him eat his fill and recover himself, and after we will look to him.’ So they waited till Ubeid had eaten his fill and washed his hands and drunk coffee and sherbets of sugar flavoured with musk and ambergris and was about to go out, when Abdurrehman sent one after him, who said to him, ‘Come, O stranger, and speak with the merchant Abdurrehman.’ ‘Who is he?’ asked Ubeid; and the man said, ‘He is the master of the feast.’ So the jeweller turned back, thinking that he meant to give him largesse, and coming up to Abdurrehman, saw his friend Kemerezzeman and was like to lose his senses for shame before him. But Kemerezzeman rose to him and embracing him, saluted him and they both wept sore. Then he seated him by his side and Abdurrehman said to his son, ‘Lack-courtesy that thou art, this is no way to receive friends! Send him first to the bath and send after him a suit of clothes that shall befit him; and after sit with him and talk with him.’ So he called some of his men and bade them carry the jeweller to the bath and sent him a suit of clothes of the choicest, worth a thousand dinars. Accordingly they carried him to the bath, where they washed his body and clad him in a suit, and he became as he were Provost of the Merchants.
Meanwhile, the bystanders questioned Kemerezzeman of him, saying, ‘Who is this and whence knowest thou him?’ Quoth he, ‘This is my friend, who lodged me in his house and to whom I am indebted for favours without number, for that he entreated me with exceeding kindness. He is a man of fortune and condition and by trade a jeweller, in which craft he hath no equal. The king of Bassora loves him greatly and holds him in high esteem and his word is law with him.’ And he went on to enlarge to them on his praises, saying, ‘He did with me thus and thus and I have shame of him and know not how to requite him his generous dealing with me.’ Nor did he leave to vaunt him, till his worth was magnified to the bystanders and he became venerable in their eyes. So they said, ‘We will all do him homage and honour him for thy sake. But we would fain know why he hath departed his native land and come hither and what God hath done with him, that he is come to this plight.’ ‘O folk,’ replied Kemerezzeman, ‘marvel not: for a son of Adam is still subject to Fate and destiny, and what while he abideth in this world, he is not safe from calamities. Indeed, he speaks truly who says:
Time still devours mankind and lies in wait on them to prey: So be not thou of those whom rank and honours lead astray;
Nay, but beware of slips and faults and sorrow still forswear And know the attributes of time are ruin and decay.
How many a fortune by the least adverseness is undone! All in itself hath that shall cause it change and pass away.
Know that I entered Bassora in yet sorrier plight and worse distress than this man, for that he entered Cairo with his nakedness covered with rags; but I came into his town, with my nakedness uncovered, one hand before and another behind; and none availed me but God and this excellent man. Now the reason of this was that the Bedouins stripped me and took my camels and mules and baggage and slew my men; but I lay down among the slain, and they thought that I was dead and went away and left me. Then I arose and walked on, naked, till I came to Bassora, where this man met me and clothed me and lodged me in his house. Moreover, he furnished me with money, and all I have brought back with me I owe to God’s goodness and his. When I departed, he gave me great store of wealth and I returned home, with a heart at ease. I left him in luck and lordship, and belike there hath befallen him some calamity of the calamities of fortune, that hath enforced him leave his folk and country, and there hath happened to him by the way the like of what happened to me. There is nothing extraordinary in this; but now it behoveth me to requite him his generous dealing with me and do according to the saying of him who saith:
Thou that of Fortune deemest hopefully, Dost thou thee know what she will do with thee?
Whate’er thou dost, do good; for to a man, Even as he meteth, shall it meted be.’
As they were talking, up came Ubeid, as he were Provost of the Merchants; whereupon they all rose to salute him and seated him in the place of honour. Then said Kemerezzeman to him, ‘O my friend, verily, thy day is blessed and fortunate! There is no need to relate to me a thing that befell me before thee. If the Bedouins have stripped thee and robbed thee of thy wealth, verily our money is the ransom of our lives; so let not thy soul be troubled; for I entered thy city naked and thou clothedst me and entreatedst me generously, and I owe thee many a kindness. But I will requite thee and do with thee even as thou didst with me, nay, more: so be of good heart and cheerful eye.’ And he went on to soothe him and hinder him from speech, lest he should name his wife and what she had done with him; nor did he cease to ply him with saws and moral instances and verses and conceits and stories and anecdotes and console him, till he took the hint and kept silence concerning the past, diverting himself with the stories and witticisms ho heard and repeating [in himself] the following lines:
On Fortune’s forehead is a script, which if on careful wise Thou ponder, very tears of blood ‘twill draw from out thine eyes.
Fortune, indeed, with its right hand saluteth none that be, But with the, cup or dole and teen its left hand still him plies.
Then Kemerezzeman and his father took Ubeid and carrying him into the saloon of the harem, shut themselves up with him; and Abdurrehman said to him, ‘We did but hinder thee from speaking before the folk, for fear of dishonour to thee and to us: but now we are private; so tell me all that hath passed between thee and thy wife and my son.’ So he told him all, from beginning to end, and when he had made an end of his story, Abdurrehman said to him, ‘Was the fault with my son or with thy wife?’ ‘By Allah,’ answered Ubeid, ‘thy son was not to blame, for men [naturally] lust after women, and it behoveth Women to defend themselves from men. So the fault lies with my wife, who played me false and did with me these things.’
Then Abdurrehman arose and taking his son aside, said to him, ‘O my son, we have proved his wife and know her to be a traitress; and now I mean to prove him and see if he be a man of worth and honour or a wittol.’ ‘How so?’ asked Kemerezzeman; and Abdurrehman said, ‘I mean to urge him to make peace with his wife and if he consent and forgive her, I will smite him with a sword and kill him and kill her after, her and her maid, for there is no good in the life of a whore and a wittol; but, if he turn from her with aversion, I will marry him to thy sister and give him more than that thou tookest from him of wealth’
Then he went back to Ubeid and said to him, ‘O master, verily, the commerce of women calls for patience and he who loves them hath need of longanimity, for that they order themselves ill towards men and maltreat them, by reason of their superiority over them in beauty and grace, wherefore they magnify themselves and belittle men. Especially is this the case when their husbands show them affection; for then they requite them with pride and coquetry and foul dealing of all kinds. But, if a man be wroth whenever he seeth in his wife aught that misliketh him, there can be no fellowship between them, nor can any hit it off with them who is not magnanimous and long-suffering; and except a man bear with his wife and requite her ill-doing with forgiveness, he shall get no good of her society. Indeed, it hath been said of wome
n, “Were they in the sky, the necks of men would incline to them;” and he who hath the power and spareth, his reward is with God.
Now this woman is thy wife and thy companion and she hath long companied with thee; wherefore it behoveth that there be in thee indulgence for her, for that indulgence in fellowship is of the essentials of success. Moreover, women lack wit and religion, and if she have done ill, she repenteth and God willing, she will not again return to that which she did aforetime. So it is my counsel that thou make peace with her and I will restore thee more than thy good [that thou hast lost]; and if it please thee to abide with me, thou art welcome, thou and she, and ye shall know nought but what shall rejoice you both; but, if thou seek to return to thine own country, I will give thee what shall content thee, and yonder is the litter ready; so mount thy wife and her maid therein and journey to shine own land. For that which falls out between a man and his wife is manifold, and it behoves thee to be indulgent and not take the road of rigour.’
‘O my lord,’ said the jeweller, ‘and where is my wife? ‘She is in yonder upper chamber,’ answered Abdurrehman ‘Go up to her and be easy with her, for my sake, and trouble her not; for, when my son brought her hither, he would have married her, but I forbade him from her and shut her up in yonder chamber, saying in myself, “Peradventure her husband will come and I will deliver her to him; for she is fair of favour, and when a woman is like unto this one, it may not be that her husband will let her go.” What I counted on is come about and praised be God the Most High for thy reunion with thy wife! As for my son, I have sought him another woman in marriage and married him to her. These feasts and rejoicings are for his wedding, and to-night I bring him in to his wife. So here is the key of the chamber where thy wife is. Take it and open the door and go in to her and her maid and make merry with her. There shall be brought you meat and drink and thou shalt not come down from her till thou have had thy fill of her.’ ‘May God requite thee for me with all good, O my lord!’ exclaimed Ubeid and taking the key, went up, rejoicing.
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