He went up to Muhammad and said: ‘My son, why are you here in the desert dressed like this? You are soon going to feel the heat, and it will kill you.’ ‘Uncle,’ Muhammad said, ‘what am I to do? I have done no wrong but I am a fugitive who has been wronged. I have come hoping to find someone to shelter me for a time in exchange for recompense from me and reward from God, thanks to the injustice done me. When the pursuit has stopped send me away to go down to Basra, and I shall not come back anywhere near Baghdad.’ ‘You have got your wish, my boy,’ said the shaikh, ‘as I and my sons will help you. I swear by Muhammad, the chosen Prophet, that were you to want to stay with me for a hundred years no one would interfere with you or set eyes on you.’
He called to his son and, when the boy answered, he said: ‘Sulaiman, this is going to be your brother, so take him and hide him in your room, letting nobody see him. Then treat him well until I come.’ Sulaiman agreed and went back with Muhammad to the village, where he took him to his pleasant room and brought everything he might need before going back to find his father.
Masrur meanwhile returned to al-Rashid, whom he found sitting with a bowed head, still under the influence of drink. Al-Rashid called to him and when he answered he said: ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Master,’ replied Masrur, ‘didn’t you send me to kill Muhammad the Foundling?’ ‘Yes,’ said al-Rashid, ‘and so where is his head?’ ‘Here in my hand,’ Masrur told him and he held it up for him to see. In the dim light he did not check it but told him to throw it into the river. Masrur could scarcely believe this and left the caliph, still deeply drunk, to sleep where he was. He was sure that next day he would ask him for Muhammad and he said to himself: ‘This was a great mistake. Why didn’t I hide him away until he was asked for?’ He spent an unhappy night.
Next day al-Rashid came from his room to the baths, after which he went to his court as his courtiers together with Ja‘far the vizier came up while the eunuchs stood around the throne. Al-Rashid raised his head and said: ‘Muhammad the Foundling is absent. Go to his room, Masrur, and tell him he is wanted.’ Masrur stood there embarrassed, shaking like a leaf, and when al-Rashid asked what the matter was he said: ‘Master, don’t say this to me but have mercy on me.’ Al-Rashid repeated his question, and Masrur replied: ‘Master, didn’t you order me to kill him and throw him into the river, and are you now asking me for him, when yesterday evening I brought you his head?’
On hearing this, al-Rashid exclaimed: ‘There is no might and no power except with Almighty God! Did I really tell you to do that? You must be lying.’ Masrur swore that it was true, and al-Rashid said: ‘What had Muhammad done? Tell me and be brief.’ When Masrur had told him what had happened, al-Rashid called for Miriam and broke into bitter tears. ‘Alas for al-Rashid on the Day of Judgement!’ he exclaimed. ‘He will have to answer for having killed that handsome man.’
He kept on sobbing while Masrur wept until, when he had finished, he said to himself: ‘Unless I tell the caliph that I did not kill Muhammad, I shall have cause for fear.’ So he said: ‘Listen, Commander of the Faithful. I did not kill him but left him alive in the desert. This was a mistake on my part, for I should have hidden him somewhere that I knew about, whereas now I don’t know where in all the wide world he may be going.’ ‘Masrur,’ said al-Rashid, ‘you have brought me some consolation but now ride out this instant with a thousand mamluks and comb through the villages and the deserts as far as Wasit. I shall give a thousand dinars to any one of you who brings me Muhammad.’
The mamluks rode off, and the village shaikh, on seeing horsemen to the right and left, told his son that they must be looking for Muhammad, to which he agreed. Group after group of mamluks went out and then came back from Wasit without having found anyone who had seen or knew anything about Muhammad. Masrur told the caliph what the furnace-man had told him, after which he took Miriam, dressed her in a robe of wool and had her locked up in chains.
So much for them, but as for Muhammad, after fifteen days the shaikh smuggled him on board a barge on which he set off downstream to Basra. He had with him a sapphire ring, which he sold for twenty dinars, and with these he bought fine clothes and hired a house. He used to sit with a perfume seller, and rows of people would stand in front of him, calling on God to protect him. While he was there, up came a girl with a perfect figure and rounded breasts. She had joining eyebrows, dark eyes and breasts of marble; her face was brighter than the moon and the sun; she was wrapped in a gold-embroidered shawl, and there was a large crowd following her.
When she caught sight of Muhammad she stopped opposite him, and the breeze she felt came neither from north nor south but was known as longing, and she felt it four fingers’ width below her navel. ‘Look at this boy sitting here as we stand!’ she exclaimed, and she took hold of him and tugged him into the booth, saying: ‘By God, this is a beautiful face, and how ugly are the faces of the Basrans! You are my cousin, and I am from Baghdad.’
She took him into a lane, and the crowd was divided, with some following because they wanted to look at a young couple they loved while others were jeering at the girl and saying: ‘A night with her costs five dinars.’ She turned on them and said: ‘It is God Who protects! I pass by here every day and put up with your jeers, but today you should apologize.’ Most of the crowd told the scoffers to go away, saying: ‘The sun and the moon have met.’
When they were left alone they walked on together, but Muhammad did not dare enter his house with a girl for fear that no good would come of it. For her part she said: ‘Take me to your house so that we can drink through the night until breakfast. I am not going to leave you, as you are the lover I have been looking for.’ He was embarrassed but was not bold enough to turn her away, although he had no idea where to take her. He went from one street to another, saying to himself: ‘When I see a locked door, I shall tell her that this is my house but my servant has not come, and so I shall get her to go off.’ He went into a street thinking that it was a thoroughfare and walked to the end of it, where facing him was a house which looked as though the decorators had just left. On the door was an iron ring and it had two teak leaves that looked like sandalwood, each with a brass ring that looked like gold and a Rumi lock weighing two ratls. He stopped and said: ‘This is my house, but what has happened? May God cut off the hand of my servant! By God, I don’t know where he has gone.’ ‘Is this your house?’ the girl asked and when he said ‘yes’ she exclaimed: ‘By God, what a beautiful house with its fine balcony up there. I have never seen anything like the leaves of its door, and it is as handsome as you. I shall unlock it.’ She went forward and took a stick from the road, which she put into the lock, pressing it home so that the catches flew open. ‘That’s done it!’ she exclaimed. ‘Thanks to my good fortune I have got it open.’ She pushed it open, and it closed behind them.
Muhammad said: ‘I went in with her in a terrified state. We crossed a corridor to a curtain of brocade and when we lifted this up we came into the main building and found two arched passageways with one room facing another. The place was encrusted with gold and there was a rope there with ten satin tassels for the master of the house to use against moths. The house was washed clean as snow and adorned with lapis lazuli and gold. The girl went up to take her seat on the dais, where I followed her. She removed her shawl and said: “Do you suppose your servant has cooked anything?” She went into the room and found a door at the top of it, which she opened to discover there an oven and five stoves, each with a pot and a different kind of food, smelling like musk. There were five plates with sweetmeats and bread weighing a hundred ratls. “Cousin,” she asked, “have you invited people?” “By God,” I replied, “I don’t know what my servant thought he was doing,” adding to myself: “Fine, by God! There has never been any better preparation for a party, and the host must be a Turk or some respected man who will come and see us here in his house without his permission. We shall find that our day is over, but let us put our trust in God.”
‘The gi
rl took a plate and five porcelain cups, dipping one into each of the pots. She put rice in a bowl and took a chicken and a bowl of sweetmeats and, after having covered the plate with fine bread, she came and put it in front of me. “Eat,” she said, rolling up her sleeves, and I ate as though it was myself I was eating, since I did not know what I had got myself into. When we had both eaten and washed our hands she told me to strain the wine while she stood up and looked around. She opened cupboards, in one of which she found five tubs, each containing large jars full of ice-cold wine. “Fine!” she exclaimed. “He is trying to hide this from me although I love him.” Taking a plate, she set three full jars on it and placed it in front of me. Then in another cupboard she found melons, fruit and scented flowers and these too she put before me. “Now we want some music,” she said, but I told her that all we should do was to sit where we were lest the neighbours hear. At the top of the hall, however, she saw a closet and on opening it she discovered a lute, a harp and a tambourine. With an exclamation of pleasure she took the tambourine and beat it. I got up and took hold of her hand, saying: “We have an ascetic neighbour who will be here in a moment to tell us he disapproves. We don’t want any tambourine playing.” I removed it from her, and the wine cups passed between us.’
The house belonged to the attendant of Muhammad al-Zainabi, a man by the name of Khultukh. He had no wife and liked to drink with the Turks. It was he who had made all these preparations and had gone off to fetch these people. He arrived with them to find one leaf of the door open and the other shut. He exclaimed at what he thought the Turks had done to open the door, but they told him that it was like that when they found it. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, and he told them to stay where they were until he went in to look around.
He entered slowly through the door and slowly raised a corner of the curtain. What he saw was a young man and a girl who looked like the rising sun. ‘Good, by God!’ he exclaimed for he was a good-natured man who loved company. He saw that no damage had been done to his house and he said to himself: ‘God curse anyone who spoils their pleasure! Who can bear to part the sun and the moon?’ He went back to the Turks, who asked if they could go in. ‘No,’ he told them, ‘put it off until tomorrow and I will make it up to you.’ They thanked him and went off, after which he stole back into the house. He took a flat loaf, drenched it on top of a pot and then opened a wine cellar, from which he took a jar which he opened. He sat there eating and drinking, taking a sip from a bowl, which was the only thing he had to drink from, every time that he saw the young couple drink. He saw that the young man was looking ill at ease and hoped that he would get up. As he was saying this Muhammad got up and as he went out to relieve himself he caught sight of Khultukh seated there with his wine.
Khultukh got up and went to him, saying: ‘Don’t speak and don’t be afraid.’ I am the attendant of Muhammad son of Sulaiman and whatever money I get I spend it on people. My house is yours, so don’t be distressed but tell me your story.’ Muhammad told him what the girl had done, and he said: ‘Go down and drink and don’t leave her. I shall tie a belt around my waist and when I come in, show anger and give me a light blow.’ As Muhammad laughed he leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, taking possession of his whole heart.
Muhammad went down and told the girl to take the tambourine and sing. ‘What about the ascetic?’ she asked, but he said: ‘We don’t need to bother about him.’ She took the tambourine and sang but then said: ‘I don’t think my singing was very good. Give me one of your jubbahs so I may do better.’ Khultukh exclaimed in alarm but then said: ‘Let him give it to her.’ She stretched out her hand and took a jubbah of Coptic satin, elaborately marked, which, when she put it on, was too long for her. ‘It’s too long,’ she said, before taking it and tearing off a strip from the bottom. ‘Oh, Oh! She has ruined it,’ exclaimed Khultukh, ‘but let her be.’ ‘Why didn’t you leave it till winter and then get it to fit you?’ asked Muhammad, but the girl told him to mind his own business.
She asked him what he supposed had happened to his slave and he told her that he would have to beat him. ‘What do you want from him?’ she asked. ‘He has done everything that you could want.’ She went on to ask whether he had bought the house or built it. ‘I bought it and it is mine,’ Muhammad replied. ‘And my jubbah as well,’ said Khultukh to himself. ‘What is the name of your slave?’ the girl asked, and he told her that it was Khultukh. ‘Was it you or your father who bought him?’ she went on, and he said: ‘It was my father who bought him and I inherited him.’ ‘God give you health!’ exclaimed Khultukh, adding: ‘Both I and this house have become this man’s property, with the clothes thrown in as an extra. But he is a handsome fellow, may God be good to him!’
He rushed down, belted his waist and went out to the market with a basket, in which he put fresh fruit and newly picked flowers. He got a porter to carry this on his head before flinging open the door and interrupting the two as they were enjoying themselves. He left the basket in front of Muhammad. ‘What kept you?’ said Muhammad and, taking a whip, he struck him. ‘Slowly!’ exclaimed Khultukh. ‘You hurt me.’ The girl jumped up and interceded for him, saying: ‘Don’t beat him! Does he deserve this from you?’ and she told Khultukh to come to her. He told her: ‘This is a fine thing my master does! He sends me to check an account with his banker and bring his money and then he beats me.’ From his sleeve he shook out two hundred dinars and when Muhammad told him to pick them up he produced a purse and left the gold in it.
Muhammad and the girl sat drinking until nightfall when they got up to sleep, with Khultukh spreading bedding in a fine gilded room, where the two of them slept until morning. The girl then got up and dressed, and Khultukh, who was standing there, recognized her and weighed out five dinars for her, saying: ‘Lady, take this to the baths.’ She said: ‘Khultukh, I’m not going to take anything from this master of mine. Every night I spend with him I shall let him have the money to spend on us.’ She then said goodbye to Muhammad and went out.
Khultukh went to Muhammad and said: ‘Come to the baths.’ Muhammad got up to go there and was dressed in a robe of Damiettan linen worth fifty dinars. Khultukh said to him: ‘Listen and don’t play games with me. I am your slave, and you must take over the house so that I can go to work. Here is the key so you can go out and come in. This is your house, and I am your mamluk.’ Muhammad called down blessings on him and said: ‘May Almighty God allow me to repay you.’
Muhammad spent a year in Basra, while al-Rashid was left in a state of great unrest. Then news came from his agents that the person he was looking for had been seen in Basra. He ordered Masrur to ride to Basra with a hundred men and have a proclamation made that anyone who sees a person fitting this description would receive three hundred dinars a year together with three meals a day. He would also be able to hope for a gift. ‘To hear is to obey,’ said Masrur and he rode off, making for Basra and pressing on until he got there. He then got a town crier to make a general proclamation that whoever saw a young man with long hair, a white face, hairless cheeks, joining eyebrows and a mole on his cheek would be given three hundred dinars a year and three meals a day, as well as being able to ask for what he wanted from the Commander of the Faithful.
Khultukh was buying bread when the crier came to his street and went to the market to make his proclamation. Khultukh climbed on a bench to see what this was, and he then said to himself: ‘The young man he is talking about is the one who is with me. I’d better tell them, but, by God, I shall not do that until I have gone to him to see what he has to say.’ He got down from the bench and ran to his house, where he called to Muhammad. When Muhammad answered he said: ‘Masrur the eunuch has come with a town crier. They have given a description of you and said that whoever sees the man who fits the description will be handed the signet ring of the Commander of the Faithful and will be given such-and-such a reward if he leads the way to you.’ ‘It is for me that Masrur has come,’ said Muhammad, ‘so go and take the ring and te
ll him: “This man is with me.” Then take whatever they give you.’ ‘If I say that, what will Masrur do with you?’ ‘He will take me and go off,’ Muhammad told him, at which Khultukh said: ‘They can keep their gold. I don’t want you to go.’ ‘Khultukh,’ Muhammad said, ‘I want to do you some good and to bring you luck, so go and tell them.’
Khultukh left unwillingly and stood in front of Masrur, gesturing to him. Masrur ordered his men to hold him, and they rushed forward to do this. ‘How rough you are!’ Khultukh exclaimed, but Masrur asked what he wanted. ‘The man you are looking for is with me,’ Khultukh told him. ‘What are you saying?’ said Masrur, but Khultukh repeated: ‘He is with me, so produce the caliph’s ring, for this is going to please him.’ ‘It certainly will, by God!’ Masrur exclaimed and he passed the ring to Khultukh, who took it and went to Muhammad with Masrur following him.
When Masrur saw Muhammad he kissed the ground in front of him and Muhammad went up and embraced him, saying: ‘You have always been good to me although I blamed you.’ ‘Master,’ said Masrur, ‘the Commander of the Faithful has had no news of you.’ ‘But you told me to stay away,’ Muhammad said. ‘Get up now,’ Masrur told him. ‘What are you doing sitting here?’ Khultukh asked him: ‘And why have you come to take away my son?’ Masrur laughed and said: ‘This is the son of the Commander of the Faithful.’
When Muhammad told him what Khultukh had done with him, Masrur embraced him and said: ‘May God produce more men like you!’ He presented him with three thousand riyals, but Khultukh kissed them and put them back on his head, saying: ‘God preserve the Commander of the Faithful! I take no reward for a good deed.’ Masrur insisted: ‘The caliph’s bounty is not to be rejected!’ and at that Khultukh accepted the money.
Tales of the Marvellous and News of the Strange (Hardcover Classics) Page 44