“Ma’rouf is innocent.”
“Ma’rouf is compassionate.”
“Ma’rouf must not die.”
“Woe to those that do him harm.”
No sooner had a voice called out that they should go to the governor’s house than the crowds surged forth like a torrent unleashed from the highest mountain, letting loose a great roar. At the first street their way was blocked by heavily-armed troops. Quickly a battle ensued with arrows and stones, a battle waged fiercely under a cloud that threatened rain. Before sundown a rumble of drums was heard and a town crier shouted, “Stop the fighting—His Majesty the Sultan himself is on the way.”
The two sides pulled back and silence fell. The sultan’s procession came with a large force of cavalry. Shahriyar entered the governor’s residence surrounded by his men of state. The official inquiry went on the whole night. Before dawn the town crier emerged as drizzle was falling, softly washing the faces drawn with anxiety. Many were the expectations of the people, but what actually happened had never occurred to them in their wildest dreams.
“It is the wish of the sultan,” called out the town crier, “that the governor be transferred to take charge of another quarter and that Ma’rouf the cobbler should take command here.”
Cheers rang out as the people became intoxicated with their resounding victory.
Sindbad
I
Ma’rouf the governor of the quarter suggested with all modesty to the sultan that he transfer Sami Shukri the private secretary and Khalil Faris the chief of police to another quarter, and that he should be gracious enough to appoint Nur al-Din as personal secretary and the madman as chief of police under a new name—Abdullah al-Aqil, which is to say, “Abdullah the Sane.” It was extraordinary that the sultan should grant his request, although he did ask him, “Are you really happy about the madman being your chief of police?”
“Absolutely so,” answered Ma’rouf confidently.
He wished him all success, then asked, “What about your policy, Ma’rouf?”
“I have spent my life, Your Majesty,” the man said humbly, “mending shoes until mending has become lodged in my blood.”
The vizier Dandan was disturbed by this and said to the sultan after Ma’rouf’s departure, “Do you not think, Your Majesty, that the quarter has fallen into the hands of a group of people with no experience?”
“Let us venture,” said the sultan gently, “upon a new experience.”
II
The habitués of the Café of the Emirs were whiling away the evening in merry conversation in keeping with the change that had happened in their quarter, when a stranger appeared at the entrance to the café. Of slender build, rather tall, with a black and elegant beard, he was dressed in a Baghdad cloak, a Damascene turban, and Moroccan sandals, while in his hand he held a Persian string of prayer beads made of precious pearls. The people were tongue-tied and all eyes gravitated toward him. In spite of the fact that he was a stranger, he let his smiling eyes roam familiarly among the people there. Then suddenly Ragab the porter leapt to his feet, shouting, “Praise the Lord, it is none other than Sindbad!”
The newcomer guffawed loudly and took his old comrade in his arms. The two embraced warmly, and soon hands were being grasped in friendly handshakes. Then he went to an empty place beside Master Sahloul, drawing Ragab with him, who protested in whispered embarrassment, “That’s the place for the gentlemen!”
“As of now, you’re my business agent,” said Sindbad.
“How many years have you been away, Sindbad?” Shamloul the hunchback asked him.
“In truth, I’ve forgotten time!” he said in confusion.
“It seems like ten centuries,” said Ugr the barber.
“You have seen many worlds,” said the doctor Abdul Qadir al-Maheeni. “What did you see, Sindbad?”
He savored the great interest being taken in him, then said, “I have delightful and edifying tales, but everything in its due time. Have patience until I settle down.”
“We will tell you our own tales,” said Ugr.
“What has God done with you?”
“Many have died and have had their fill of death,” answered Hasan al-Attar, “and many have been born and have not had their fill of life. People have fallen down from the heights, and other people have risen up from the depths; some have grown rich after being hungry, while others are begging after having been of high rank. Some of the finest and the worst of jinn have arrived in our city, and the latest news is that Ma’rouf the cobbler has been appointed to govern our quarter.”
“I had reckoned that wonders would be restricted to my travels. Now I am truly amazed!”
“It is clear,” said Ibrahim the water-carrier, “that you have become rich, Sindbad.”
“God bestows fortune upon whom He will without limit.”
“Tell us,” said Galil the draper, “about the most extraordinary things you encountered.”
“There is a time for everything,” he said, swinging his string of Persian prayer beads. “I must buy a palace and I must open an agency for putting up for sale the rare and precious objects I have brought from the mountains and from the depths of the seas and unknown islands, and I shall shortly invite you to a dinner at which I shall present to you strange foods and drinks, after which I shall recount my extraordinary journeys.”
III
Immediately his choice fell on a palace in Cavalry Square. He entrusted to Sahloul the task of furnishing and decorating it, while he opened a new agency in the market, over which Ragab the porter was put in charge from the first day. Meanwhile he visited the governor. They were no sooner alone than they embraced like old friends. Ma’rouf told him his story, while Sindbad related what had happened to him during his seven voyages.
“You are deserving of your position,” Sindbad told him.
“I am the servant of the poor under God’s care,” answered Ma’rouf with conviction.
He visited Sheikh Abdullah al-Balkhi, his teacher when he was a young boy. Kissing his hands, he said to him, “I was under your tutelage only so long as was necessary for my primary schooling, but I gained from it some words that lit up the darkness for me when I was faced by misfortune.”
“It is useless to have good seed unless it is in good earth,” said the sheikh amiably.
“Perhaps, master, you would like to hear my adventures?”
“Knowledge is not gained by numerous narratives but through following knowledge and using it.”
“Master, you will find in them things to please you.”
“Blessed is he who has but one thing to worry about,” answered the sheikh with little enthusiasm, “and whose heart is not preoccupied by what his eyes have seen and his ears heard. He who has known God is abstemious about everything that distracts from Him.”
Having made his arrangements to settle down, Sindbad invited his friends to a feast. There he recounted what had happened to him on his seven voyages. From them the stories spread to the quarter and then to the city, and hearts were stirred and imaginations kindled.
IV
One day Ma’rouf the governor of the quarter asked him to pay a visit.
“Rejoice, Sindbad, for His Majesty the Sultan Shahriyar wishes to see you.”
Sindbad was delighted and went off immediately to the palace in the company of the chief of police, Abdullah al-Aqil. As he presented himself before the sultan only at the beginning of the night, they took him to the garden. There he was shown to a seat in profound darkness, while the breaths of spring brought to the depths of his being a blending of the perfumes of flowers under a ceiling that sparkled with stars. The sultan talked gently, so he was put at ease and his sense of awe was replaced by feelings of love and intimacy. Shahriyar asked him about his original occupation, about sciences he had acquired, and about what it was that had caused him to resolve to travel. Sindbad answered with appropriate brevity, frankly and truthfully.
“People have told me of your travel
s,” said Shahriyar, “and I would like to hear from you what you learned from them, whether you have gained from them any useful knowledge—but don’t repeat anything unless it is necessary.”
Sindbad thought for a time, then said, “It is of God that one seeks help, Your Majesty.”
“I am listening to you, Sindbad.”
He filled his lungs with the delightful fragrance, then began:
“The first thing I have learned, Your Majesty, is that man may be deceived by illusion so that he thinks it is the truth, and that there is no safety for us unless we dwell on solid land. Thus when our ship sank on our first journey, I swam, clinging to a piece of wood until I reached a black island. I and those with me thanked God and we set off wandering about all over it searching for fruit. When we found none, we gathered together on the shore, with our hopes set upon a ship that might be passing by. All of a sudden someone shouted, ‘The earth is moving.’
“We looked and found that we were being shaken by the ground. We were overcome with terror. Then another man called out, ‘The earth is sinking!’
“It was indeed submerging into the water. So I threw myself into the sea. It then became apparent to us that what we had thought was land was in fact nothing but the back of a large whale which had been disturbed by our moving about on top of it and was taking itself off to its own world in stately fashion.
“I swam off, giving myself up to fate until my hands struck against some rocks and from these I crawled to a real island on which there was water and much fruit. I lived there for a time until a ship passed by and rescued me.”
“And how do you make a distinction between illusion and truth?” inquired the sultan.
“We must use such senses and intelligence as God has given us,” he answered after some hesitation.
“Continue, Sindbad.”
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that sleep is not permissible if wakefulness is necessary, and that while there is life, there is no reason to despair. The ship crashed against some projecting rocks and was wrecked, and those on it moved onto an island, a bare island that had no water and no trees, but we carried with us food and waterskins. I saw a large rock not so faraway and I told myself that I could sleep in its shade for a while. I slept and when I awoke I could find no trace of my companions. I called out but heard no answer. I ran toward the shore and saw a ship slipping beyond the horizon; I also saw waves surging and giving out an anthem of despair and death. I realized that the ship had picked up my comrades, who, in the ecstasy of being saved, had forgotten about their friend sleeping behind the rock. Not a sound issued from a living soul, not a thing was to be seen on the surface of the desolate land except for the rock. But what a rock! I looked, my eyes sharpened by terror, and I realized that it was not a rock, as it had seemed to my exhausted sight, but an egg—an egg the size of a large house. The egg of what possible bird? Terror seized hold of me at that unknown enemy, as I plunged into the void of a slow death. Then the light of the sun was extinguished and a dusk-like gloom descended. Raising my eyes, I saw a creature like an eagle, though hundreds of times bigger. I saw it coming slowly down until it settled over the egg. I realized that it was taking it up to fly off with it. A crazy idea occurred to me and I tied myself to the end of one of its legs, which was as big as a mast. The bird soared off with me, flying along above the ground. To my eyes everything looked so small and insignificant, as though neither hope nor pain pulsated there, until the bird came down on a mountain peak. I untied myself and crawled behind a towering tree, the like of which I had never seen before. The bird rested for a while then continued its journey toward the unknown, while I was vanquished by sleep. When I awoke the noon sun was shining. I chewed some grasses to assuage my hunger, while I quenched my thirst from a hollow that was full of clear water. Then I noticed that the earth was giving out beams that dazzled my eyes. When I investigated, the surface of the ground revealed uncut diamonds. Despite my wretchedness, my avidity was aroused and I tore out as many as I could and tied them up in my trousers. Then I went down from the mountain till I ended up on the shore, from where I was rescued by a passing ship.”
“It was the roc, which we have heard of but not seen,” said Shahriyar quietly. “You are the first human to exploit it to his own ends, Sindbad—you should know that too.”
“It is the will of Almighty God,” said Sindbad modestly. Then he went on with what he had to say.
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that food is nourishment when taken in moderation but is a danger when taken gluttonously—and this is also true of the carnal appetites. Like the one before, the ship was wrecked and we found ourselves on an island which was governed by a giant king. He was nevertheless a generous and hospitable man and gave us a welcome that surpassed all our hopes, and under his roof we did nothing but relax and spend our evenings in conversation. He produced for us every kind of food and we set about it like madmen. However, some words that I had learned of old in my childhood from my master Sheikh Abdullah al-Balkhi prevented me from eating to excess. Much time was afforded me for worship, while my companions spent their time in gobbling up food and in heavy sleep after filling themselves so that their weight increased enormously and they became barrel-shaped, full of flabby flesh and fat. One day the king came and looked us over man by man. He then invited my companions to his palace, while to me he turned in scorn.
“ ‘You’re like rocky ground that doesn’t give fruit,’ he said.
“I was displeased by this and it occurred to me that I might slip out at night and see what my companions were doing. So it was that I saw the king’s men slaughtering the captain and serving him up to their ruler. He gobbled him down with savage relish and the secret of his generosity was immediately borne upon me. I made my escape to the shore, where I was rescued by a ship.”
“May He maintain you in your piety, Sindbad,” murmured the sultan. Then, as though talking to himself, he said, “But the ruler too is in need of piety.”
Sindbad retained the echo of the sultan’s comment for a minute, then continued with what he had to say:
“I learned too, Your Majesty, that to continue with worn-out traditions is foolishly dangerous. The ship sank on its way to China. I and a group of those traveling with me took refuge on an island that was rich in vegetation and had a moderate climate. Peace prevailed there and it was ruled over by a good king, who said to us, ‘I shall regard you as my subjects—you shall have the same rights and the same obligations.’
“We were happy about this and gave up prayers for him. As a further show of hospitality to us he presented us with some of his beautiful slave-girls as wives. Life thus became easy and enjoyable. It then happened that one of the wives died and the king had her prepared for burial and said to our comrade who was the woman’s widower, ‘I am sorry to part from you but our traditions demand that the husband be buried alive with his dead wife; this also goes for the wife if the husband happens to die before her.’
“Our friend was terror-struck and said to the king, ‘But our religion does not require this of us.’
“ ‘We are not concerned with your religion,’ the king said, ‘and our traditions are sacrosanct.’
“The man was buried alive with the corpse of his wife. Our peace of mind was disturbed by this and we looked to the future with horror. I began to observe my wife apprehensively. Whenever she complained of some minor indisposition my whole being was shaken. When she became pregnant and was in labor pains, her state of health deteriorated and I quickly fled into the forest, where I stayed. Then, one day, a ship passed by close to the shore, so I threw myself into the water and swam toward it, calling out for help. When I was almost on the point of drowning they picked me out of the water.”
As though addressing himself, the sultan muttered, “Traditions are the past and of the past there are things that must become outdated.”
It seemed to Sindbad that the sultan had something more to say, so he kept silent. However, Shahriyar said
, “Continue, Sindbad.”
“I also learned, Your Majesty, that freedom is the life of the spirit and that Paradise itself is of no avail to man if he has lost his freedom. Our ship met with a storm which destroyed it, not one of its men escaping apart from myself. The waves hurled me onto a fragrant island, rich with fruits and streams and with a moderate climate. I quenched my hunger and thirst and washed, then went off into the interior to seek out what I could find. I came across an old man lying under a tree utterly at the end of his resources.
“ ‘I am decrepit, as you see, so will you carry me to my hut?’ he said, pointing with his chin. I did not hesitate about picking him up. I raised him onto my shoulders and took him to where he had pointed. Finding no trace of his hut, I said, ‘Where’s your dwelling, uncle?’
“In a strong voice, unlike that with which he had first addressed me, he said, ‘This island is my dwelling, my island, but I need someone to carry me.’
“I wanted to lower him from my shoulders, but I couldn’t tear his legs away from my neck and ribs; they were like a building held in place by iron.
“ ‘Let me go,’ I pleaded, ‘and you will find that I am at your service when you need me.’
“He laughed mockingly at me, ignoring my pleas. He thus condemned me to live as his slave so that neither waking nor sleeping was enjoyable, and I took pleasure in neither food nor drink, until an idea occurred to me. I began to squeeze some grapes into a hollow and left the juice to ferment. Then I gave it to him to drink until he became intoxicated and his steel-like muscles relaxed and I threw him from my shoulders. I took up a stone and smashed in his head, thus saving the world from his evil. I then spent a happy period of time—I don’t know how long—until I was rescued by a ship.”
Arabian Nights and Days Page 21