Fadil laughed in confusion and said, “I have my head, which is the most precious thing I possess.”
“You previously refused in disdain to take my hand,” said Ugr bitterly.
“It is your right that I make it up to you,” said Fadil in apology.
Ugr was silent for some moments, then said, “God has granted me someone who is better than her, but keep in mind that in view of your poverty I saved your head for nothing.”
XV
At noon that day the legal ceremonies were carried out for Ugr to marry Qamar al-Attar in an atmosphere more reminiscent of a funeral. Ugr’s concern was concentrated on keeping Shamloul the hunchback in his house until the bride was given in marriage to him. Meanwhile, he had rented a beautiful house and had begun to prepare it for receiving the bride. He was not wholly confident about the future, for his deception would sooner or later be exposed. In addition to which, Fattouha would learn of his marriage to Qamar and clouds of troubles and worries would gather. Yet he might be saved from ruin if he embraced his bride to himself and was in some manner embraced into the al-Attar family, and if he invested his money and was granted an ample and lasting revenue.
He went to the marketplace, where he met Master Sahloul and said to him, “I have some money that I would like to invest with you, for you are the best person to invest with.”
“Where did you get this money from, Ugr?” asked Sahloul, who never expressed his astonishment.
“God bestows upon whomever He wishes.”
“I don’t go into business with anybody,” he said brusquely.
“Teach me,” he entreated, “for teaching is a reward in itself!”
Sahloul laughed as he said, “My profession is not learned, Ugr. Wait until Sindbad returns.”
He proceeded immediately to Nur al-Din, the brother-in-law of the sultan. The young man asked him with a certain suspicion, “Do you swear that the money came to you lawfully?”
Though his heart was troubled he nevertheless swore to it.
“A ship will set sail this month—come to me at the end of the week.”
Ugr went off in fear at the outcome of the false oath he had given, but he pledged himself in his conscience to expiate his sins by making the pilgrimage, by giving alms, and by repentance.
XVI
Ugr realized that the march of time was giving warning of the destruction of his hopes and that he was not able to bring it to a halt. It was impossible to keep the hunchback in his prison forever, and he would never find a secure place in the city for him. Nothing remained but to take possession of his bride and flee with her on the earliest ship. In far-off countries he could begin a new life, a life of wealth, love, and repentance. He defended himself by saying he was not wicked and had done what he had done only through deprivation and weakness—God had given him the lot of the poor and the tastes of the rich, so what was his fault? In the evening he went to the Café of the Emirs and immediately and with a firm step he made his way to where Hasan al-Attar, Galil al-Bazzaz, and Fadil Sanaan were ensconced. Reluctantly they made room for him. He said to himself, “Yesterday I was despised and today I am utterly loathed.” But his situation with al-Attar would be resolved at the end of the evening gathering and as of tomorrow he would set forth into the world of beautiful dreams. Then he saw Fadil staring at the entrance to the café aghast and motioning to his companions to look. He himself directed his gaze toward the entrance and saw Shamloul the hunchback glaring at them with blazing eyes and trembling all over with agitation.
XVII
Despair and terror wrenched at his soul as the hunchback drew toward them with short, quick steps until he was standing in front of them defiantly. In a voice as high-pitched as a whistle he shouted, “Woe to you, you gypsies!”
He first turned on Ugr, “So you imprison me in your house claiming that I was receiving hospitality I hadn’t asked for!”
Ugr said not a word and the hunchback continued, “Your wife freed me when she heard the news of your marriage, so expect to hear some thunder in your house.”
He then turned to the three others, “You strike the sultan’s man, you villains! Every strong man has someone stronger and deadlier than he, and you’ll get your true deserts.”
He marched out of the café with short, quick steps, yellow in the face with rage, as a storm of laughter erupted. The faces of the three men had set, then they were overcome with fear and anger. They glared at Ugr with looks of loathing.
“Deceiving villain,” Hasan al-Attar hissed at him. “Return the money and revoke the contract.”
“Return the money or we’ll break your bones,” said Galil al-Bazzaz.
“I thought first of all he was dead—and God is my witness.”
“Then you turned into a swindling criminal—return the money and revoke the contract.”
With death-defying bravado he said, “Beware of the scandal. The secret of drinking, riotous behavior, and aggression will be made public. You are better off trying to placate the hunchback before he takes his complaint to the sultan. As for the money you gave me, consider it as an atonement for your life’s sins.”
“Woe to you, you will not get away with a single dirham, you swindler.”
All of a sudden Ugr jumped to his feet and left the place as though in flight.
XVIII
All sense of security had vanished from his world and hope’s lamp had been extinguished. Though he was Qamar’s husband, she was more distant from him than the stars. He was rich and yet he was threatened with death. He knew more than anyone about the secret cooperation between al-Attar and al-Bazzaz on the one hand and Yusuf al-Tahir the governor and Husam al-Fiqi the private secretary on the other. Meanwhile, too, Fattouha was lurking at home, impatient for his return so that she might fasten her fangs in his throat. How narrow was the world! He wandered about, slumbering for hours on the steps of the public fountain. For the whole of the day he withdrew into the farthest corner of the quarter. No doubt his enemies had won over the hunchback and were now engrossed in planning their revenge on him. In the evening he found himself in the Shooting Square, when suddenly his gaze was drawn to the light of torches and an unusual clamor.
XIX
What was happening in the square? A force of police were surrounding a large number of vagabonds and violently driving them to some unknown place. He heard a man nearby say aloud, “What an extraordinary decision!”
The man was in truth none other than the genie Sakhrabout in human guise, strutting about in a gown that bespoke high rank.
“What decision, sir?”
Sakhrabout was delighted at having attracted Ugr’s attention.
“May God honor His Majesty the Sultan, for the palace astrologer has indicated that the state of the kingdom will not thrive unless its affairs are taken over by vagabonds. So His Majesty has ordered that the vagabonds be apprehended so that he may choose from among them those to fill the various commands.”
In amazement Ugr asked, “Are you quite certain of what you’re saying?”
“Have you not heard the town criers?” said Sakhrabout in surprise.
His heart jumped with joy. This wave of humans would sweep away all sorrows at a single burst. They would be his saviors from torment and despair, messengers of glad tidings of deliverance and mastery. What could his enemies do if he were to look down on them tomorrow from the rulers’ balcony? Without hesitating a single moment, he crept in among those who had been arrested and allowed himself to be carried along.
XX
The stream of men proceeded toward the house of the governor, Yusuf al-Tahir, where they were gathered in the courtyard under guard and in the light of torches. Yusuf al-Tahir came, followed by Husam al-Fiqi. They were greeted by the chief of police, Bayumi al-Armal, who then said, “These are the ones we were able to apprehend this evening, and others will come in due course.”
Yusuf al-Tahir inquired, “By this do you really guarantee that crimes of burglary and brigandage
will be wiped out?”
“That is what is hoped, Lord,” said Bayumi al-Armal.
At a gesture from the governor the soldiers stripped the men of their ragged clothes. All this time Ugr was flabbergasted and became convinced that he had led himself into a calamity compared to which his true troubles were insignificant. Whiplashes rained down upon them and his screaming rent the air even before his turn came—which it did. When they began taking them off to prison, Ugr screamed at the governor, “O representative of the sultan, I beseech you by God Almighty to look at me, for I am not one of them. I am Ugr the barber. The chief of police knows me, as does the private secretary. I am a friend of Nur al-Din, the son-in-law of the sultan.”
Bayumi al-Armal listened to all this and said in astonishment, “But I didn’t arrest you, Ugr.”
“Things got muddled up—the work of the Devil.”
Yusuf al-Tahir ordered him to be released and his clothes to be returned to him. Then suddenly the governor looked intently at the package around his middle. Ugr trembled and hid it with his arms. The governor, though, was suspicious and ordered that he be stripped of it and that it be examined. When he saw the necklace with all the precious stones he called out, “Zahriyar’s necklace! You’re nothing but a thieving murderer. Arrest him!”
XXI
The following day began with Ugr’s interrogation. He told his story and swore by all that was holy that it was the truth. Hasan al-Attar and Galil al-Bazzaz came forward and gave evidence of his lying and deceit. Yusuf al-Tahir ordered that he be beheaded, and the whole quarter gathered to watch in the square. But before they had begun to carry out the sentence, the vizier Dandan arrived in an awe-inspiring procession.
XXII
Soon the courtroom was assembled at the house of the governor, with Dandan, Yusuf al-Tahir, Husam al-Fiqi, Bayumi al-Armal, and Ugr the barber all present.
“His Majesty,” said Dandan, “has ordered me to conduct a retrial.”
“To hear is to obey, minister,” said Yusuf al-Tahir.
“The madman,” said Dandan, “has supplied him with news that he wishes to verify.”
“That madman,” said Yusuf al-Tahir in astonishment, “who insists he is Gamasa al-Bulti?”
“The very same.”
“And did His Majesty believe him?”
“I am here to interrogate you, not for you to interrogate me,” said Dandan roughly.
The fearful silence was broken by Dandan asking Yusuf al-Tahir, “Have you two sisters, one of whom is alive and the other missing?”
“Yes, minister,” said Yusuf al-Tahir.
“And have they led a dissolute and immoral life?”
“Had I known that,” said Yusuf al-Tahir in a trembling voice, “I would not have remained silent about it.”
“Rather it is they who silenced you before you took up your position by showering you with money earned immorally.”
“These are but the imaginings of a crazy man,” said the governor.
Dandan turned toward Husam al-Fiqi, the private secretary, and said, “It is said that you know everything about this matter, so—by order of the sultan—make a statement of the information you have, and be careful not to tell any lies which could result in having your head cut off!”
Husam al-Fiqi collapsed utterly. Doing what he could to save himself, he said, “Everything that has been said is the truth and not open to doubt.”
“What do you know about the disappearance of Zahriyar?” Dandan asked him, frowning.
“I myself investigated that and it appeared that it was her sister Gulnar who killed her, motivated by jealousy.”
Ugr was called upon to speak and he told his story from the time when he fell in love with Gulnar until the moment he slipped in among the vagabonds who had been apprehended.
The whole case was referred to the sultan Shahriyar, who ordered that Yusuf al-Tahir, being no longer fit to hold office, should be dismissed, as well as Husam al-Fiqi for having shielded his superior; that Hasan al-Attar, Galil al-Bazzaz, and Fadil Sanaan be flogged for drunkenness and riotous behavior; and that Ugr’s money be confiscated and he be released.
When Dandan was alone with his daughter Shahrzad he said to her, “The sultan has changed and has become a new person full of piety and a sense of justice.”
But Shahrzad said, “There is still a side of him that is unreliable, and his hands are still stained with the blood of innocent people.”
As for Ugr, he became oblivious to his loss in the joy of escaping. He quickly revoked the contract between himself and Qamar and made his way to the date palm not far from the green tongue of land. He bowed down before the madman who was sitting cross-legged underneath it.
“I am indebted to you,” he said in gratitude, “for my life, O kindly holy man.”
Anees al-Galees
I
Shahriyar and Dandan plunged into the night followed by Shabeeb Rama. All human movement had come to rest. By the light of widely separated lamps, houses, shops, and mosques at slumber loomed into sight. Summer’s heat had lessened and stars sparkled in the heavens.
“What is your view of what has been done?” inquired Shahriyar.
“Suleiman al-Zeini is a man who it was hoped would be governor, also his private secretary al-Fadl ibn Khaqan.”
“When the citizens are asleep, good and evil sleeps. All are infatuated with happiness, but it is as if the moon is obscured by winter clouds. Thus if the new governor of the quarter, Suleiman al-Zeini, is successful, raindrops will fall from the sky, cleansing the atmosphere of some of the dust that floats about.”
“That will be due to Almighty God and at the hand of His Majesty the Sultan and his wisdom.”
“But severity,” said Shahriyar after some thought, “must remain one of the means at the disposal of the sultan.”
Dandan, in his turn, gave the matter some thought, then replied cautiously. “Wisdom, not severity, is what Your Majesty aspires to.”
The sultan gave a laugh that rent the silence of the night.
“You are nothing but a hypocrite, Dandan,” he said. “What did the madman say? He said that if the head was sound, the whole body was sound, for soundness and corruptness come down from above. He winked at me with a boldness possessed only by madmen, but he knew all the secrets of the case. How did he come by this knowledge?”
“How would I know, Your Majesty, what goes on in the heads of madmen?”
“He claimed that he had got to know the secrets from the time he had been chief of police.”
“He is still insisting that he is Gamasa al-Bulti, a claim that is given the lie by Gamasa al-Bulti’s head hanging over the door of his house. Perhaps he really is one of those who know the supernatural.”
“Shahrzad has taught me to believe what man’s logic gives the lie to,” said Shahriyar as though communing with himself, “and to plunge into a sea of contradictions. Whenever night comes it seems to me that I am a poor man.”
II
“I fear that boredom pursues us,” said Zarmabaha to Sakhrabout.
“No, opportunities will be afforded us and opportunities will be created, O crown of intelligence,” said Sakhrabout encouragingly.
The voice of Qumqam came to them from high up in the tree. “If grumbling rings out between you, it’s glad tidings of contentment.”
“You’re just an impotent old man,” Zarmabaha jeered at him.
“The earth glows with the light of its Lord,” said Singam from his place alongside Qumqam, “and toward the light Gamasa al-Bulti and Nur al-Din the lover look night and day. Even Ugr is settled in his shop and has repented of his venturings. As for the bloodthirsty Shahriyar, some throb of guidance moves his frame that is so filled with spilt blood.”
“You see nothing of things but their dumb shadow,” said Sakhrabout in mockery. “Under the ashes there are live coals, and the morrow will take you from the slumber of blindness.”
III
The movement started with
a sound as soft as silk, then exploded into the rumble of thunder. That night, at the Café of the Emirs, Ibrahim the water-carrier deviated from his normal good manners and said in a loud voice full of agitation and excitement, “Very early in the day I carried water to the Red House.”
“And what’s new about that, you idiot?” Shamloul the hunchback asked him in his high-pitched voice.
Drunk with excitement, the water-carrier said, “I had a glimpse of the lady of the house—blessed be the Great Creator.”
Both those seated on the ground and those who sat cross-legged on the couches laughed.
“Look at the madness of old age,” said Ma’rouf the cobbler.
“A glance from her,” said Ibrahim sadly, “fills the stomach with ten jugs of the wine of madness.”
“Describe her to us, Ibrahim,” said the doctor Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni.
“She is not to be described, sir,” exclaimed the water-carrier, “but I ask God for mercy and forgiveness.”
Two nights later Ragab the porter said, “I was asked today to carry a load to the Red House.”
He at once attracted attention and appeared to become prey to an overwhelming emotion.
“I saw the lady of the house—I take refuge in God from the violence of beauty when it dominates.”
It was no joking matter. Men of passionate natures hurried off to inquire. They hurried off to the Weapons Market where the Red House stood: a large house that had been deserted for a long time after its owners had perished in a plague. It had been left bare and its garden had died, until it had been rented by an unknown lady from abroad accompanied by a single slave. In the dead of night, from behind its walls, could be heard magical music and singing. They said that she was a woman of easy virtue.
Arabian Nights and Days Page 13