When I heard this, I was astonished and I said to myself: ‘I was the man who shot the rider, but by God I shall never kill this youth.’ Speaking aloud, I said: ‘Master, may you be preserved from disease and destruction, and if God Almighty wills it, you shall not see care, sorrow or confusion. I shall sit with you and serve you and then, having kept company with you throughout this period, I shall go on my way and you can take me to some of your mamluks, with whom I can travel back to my own lands.’ I sat talking to him until nightfall, when I got up, set light to a large candle and lit the lamps. After having brought out some food, we sat down to a meal, and we then ate some sweetmeats which I had produced. We sat talking until most of the night had passed, when the youth went to sleep. I put a covering over him and settled down to sleep myself.
In the morning, I got up, heated some water and gently woke my companion. When he was awake, I brought him the hot water and he washed his face and thanked me. ‘By God,’ he said, ‘when I am free from my present danger and safe from ‘Ajib ibn Khadib, I shall ask my father to reward you, but if I die, may my blessing be on you even so.’ I replied: ‘May there never be a day on which evil strikes you and may God will it that the day of my death comes before yours.’ I produced some food and we ate and I got him to perfume himself with incense. Then I made a draughts board for him and, after eating some sweetmeats, he and I started to play, going on until nightfall, when I got up, lit the lamps and brought out some more food. I sat talking to him until only a little was left of the night, when he fell asleep, after which I covered him up and slept myself. I went on doing this for a period of days and nights, becoming fond of him and forgetting my cares. ‘The astrologers lied,’ I said to myself, ‘for by God I shall never kill this boy.’
I continued to serve him, to act as his companion and to talk with him for thirty-nine days until the night of the fortieth day. The youth was full of gladness and said to me: ‘Thanks be to God, my brother, Who has saved me from death, and this is because of your blessing and the blessing brought by your arrival. I pray that God may restore you to your own land.’ He then asked me to heat him water for a bath, which I willingly agreed to do. I warmed up a great quantity of water and brought it to him. He had a good bath, using lupin flour,* and I helped by rubbing him down and bringing him a change of clothes, after which I made up a high couch for him. He came and lay down to sleep there after his bath, saying: ‘Brother, cut me up a melon and dissolve some sugar in its juice.’ I went to the store cupboard and found a fine melon, which I put on a plate. ‘Master,’ I said to him, ‘do you have a knife?’ ‘It is on this high shelf above my head,’ he replied. So I got up quickly, took the knife and drew it from its sheath, but as I went back, I tripped. With the knife in my hand, I fell on top of the youth and, in accordance with the eternal decree, it quickly penetrated his heart and he died on the spot.
When this happened and I realized that I had killed him, I uttered a loud cry, beat my face and tore my clothes, saying: ‘To God we belong and to Him do we return. O Muslims, this handsome youth had only a single night left of the dangerous period of forty days that the astrologers and sages had predicted for him, and his death came at my hands. How I wish I had not tried to cut this melon. This is an agonizing disaster, but it came about in order that God’s decree might be fulfilled.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the sixteenth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O auspicious king, that THE DERVISH TOLD THE LADY OF THE HOUSE:
When I knew for certain that I had killed him, I got up, climbed the stairs and replaced the soil. Then I looked out to sea and caught sight of the ship making for the shore. I said fearfully: ‘Now they will come and find the boy dead. They will know that it was I who killed him and they will be bound to kill me.’ I made for a high tree, which I climbed, concealing myself among the leaves, and scarcely had I settled there than the black slaves and the youth’s old father disembarked and went towards the hidden chamber. They cleared away the earth, found the trap-door and went down. There they found the youth apparently asleep, his face glowing with the effect of his bath, dressed in clean clothes but with the knife plunged into his breast. They shrieked, wept, struck their faces, wailing and lamenting. The old man fainted for so long that the slaves thought that he would not survive his son. They wrapped the corpse of the youth in his clothes, covered him in a silken sheet and returned to the boat. Behind them came the old man, but when he saw his son laid out, he fell to the ground, poured earth on his head, struck his face and plucked out his beard, while the thought that his son had been killed caused his tears to flow faster and he fainted again. One of the slaves got up and spread a piece of silk on a couch, upon which they laid the old man and then sat by his head.
While all this was going on, I was in the tree above them, watching what was happening. Because of the cares and sorrows that I had suffered, my heart turned grey before my hair and I recited:
How many hidden acts of grace does God perform
Whose secrets are too subtle to be grasped by clever men?
How often in the morning trouble comes,
While in the evening follows joy?
How many times does hardship turn to ease,
As pleasure follows the sad heart’s distress?
The old man did not recover from his swoon until it was close to evening. Then, looking at the body of his son, he saw that what he had feared had come to pass. He slapped his face and his head and recited these lines:
The loved ones left me with a broken heart,
And floods of tears rain from my eyes.
My longing is for what lies distant, but, alas,
How can I reach this? What can I say or do?
I wish that I had not set eyes on them.
What can I do, my masters, in these narrow paths?
How can I find my solace in forgetfulness?
The blazing fire of love plays with my heart.
I wish we had been joined by death
In an inseparable link.
In God’s Name, slanderer, go slow;
Join me with them while this can still be done.
How pleasantly we were sheltered by one roof,
Living a life of constant ease, until
Arrows of separation struck and parted us.
And who is there with power to endure them?
A blow struck us through the dearest of all men,
Perfect in beauty, unique in his age.
I called him – but the silent voice preceded me.
My son, would that your fate had not arrived.
How may I rush to ransom you, my son,
With my own life, were that acceptable?
I say: he is the sun, and the sun sets.
I say: he is the moon, and moons decline.
The days bring sorrow and distress for you.
I cannot do without you. None can take your place.
Your father longs for you, but you are dead,
And he is helpless. The envious look at us today
To see what they have done; how evil was their deed!
At that, with a deep sigh his soul parted from his body. ‘O master,’ cried the slaves, and, pouring dust on their heads, they wept more and more bitterly. Then they put his body on the ship beside that of his son and, unfurling the sail, they passed out of sight. I came down from the tree, went through the trapdoor and thought about the youth. Seeing some of his belongings, I recited:
I see their traces and so melt with longing,
Weeping in places where they used to dwell.
I ask God, Who decreed that they should leave,
That one day He may grant that they return?
I then went out and passed my time wandering around the island by day and going into the underground chamber by night. In this way a month went by and, as I looked out over the western tip of the island, I could see that with every day that passed the water
was drying up. Eventually there was very little of it left to the west and there was no longer any current. By the end of the month, to my joy, the sea had dried up in that direction and, sure that I was now safe, I got up and waded through what water was left until I reached the mainland. There I encountered sand dunes in which camels would sink up to their hocks, but, steeling myself, I managed to cross them, and then far off I caught a glimpse of a fire burning brightly. I made for it, hoping to find relief. Meanwhile I recited:
It may perhaps be that Time will direct its reins
Towards some good – but Time is envious.
Were it to aid hopes and fulfil my needs,
It might bring pleasure after this distress.
When my course brought me nearer, I saw a palace with a door of brass which, when the sun shone on it, gleamed from a distance like fire. I was delighted at the sight and sat down opposite the door. Scarcely had I taken my seat when there came towards me ten young men, wearing splendid clothes, with a very old companion. All the young men had lost their right eyes, and I was astonished by their appearance and at this coincidence. When they saw me they greeted me and asked me about myself and about my story. They were amazed when I told them what had happened to me and of my misfortunes, and they then brought me into the palace. Ranged around the hall were ten couches, each spread with and covered in blue material. In the middle of these was a small couch whose coverings, like those of the others, was also blue.
When we entered the room, each of the young men went to his own couch and the old man went to the small one in the middle. He told me to sit down, but warned me not to ask questions about him and his companions or why they were one-eyed. He then brought food for each man in one container and drink in another and he did the same for me. After that, they sat asking me about my circumstances and my adventures, and their questions and my replies took up most of the night. Then they said: ‘Shaikh, bring us our due.’ ‘Willingly,’ the old man replied, and after going away into a closet, he came back carrying on his head ten trays, each with a covering of blue, and gave one to each of the young men. Then he lit ten candles, fixing one to each tray, and removed the covers. There beneath the covers on the trays was nothing but ashes and grime from cooking pots. All the young men rolled up their sleeves and, with tears and sobs, they smeared and slapped their faces, tore their clothes and beat their breasts, saying: ‘We were seated at our ease but our inquisitiveness did not leave us.’ They went on doing this until it was nearly morning, when the old man got up and heated water for them with which they washed their faces before putting on fresh clothes.
When I saw this, I said: ‘I am astonished, amazed and afire with curiosity.’ I forgot what had happened to me and, unable to keep silent, I asked them: ‘Why have you done this, after we had become pleasantly tired? You are men of sound minds – praise be to God – and it is only madmen who act like this. I implore you by what you hold dearest to tell me your story and why you have lost your eyes and why you smear your faces with ashes and grime.’ They turned to me and said: ‘Young man, do not be led astray by your youth and do not press your question.’ Then they got up and so did I, after which the old man brought out food, and when we had eaten and the plates had been removed, they sat talking until nightfall. The old man then rose and lit candles and lamps, before bringing us food and drink.
We sat talking in a friendly way to one another until midnight. ‘Bring us our due,’ they then told the old man, ‘as it is time for sleep.’ He brought the trays with the black ashes and they did what they had done on the first night. The same thing went on for a whole month while I stayed with them, as every night they would smear their faces with ashes before washing them and then changing their clothes. I was astonished at this and became more and more uneasy, to the extent that I could neither eat nor drink. ‘Young men,’ I said, ‘you must satisfy my concern and tell me why it is that you smear your faces.’ They said: ‘It is better to keep our secret hidden,’ but as I was too perplexed to eat or drink, I insisted that they tell me. ‘This will go hard with you,’ they replied, ‘as you will become like us.’ ‘There is no help for it,’ I said, ‘unless you allow me to leave you and go back to my family, so that I may no longer have to watch all this. As the proverb has it, it is better for me to be far away from you, for what the eye does not see the heart does not grieve over.’ At this, they took a ram, slaughtered it and skinned it, then told me to take a knife, wrap the skin around me and sew it up. They went on: ‘A bird called a rukh will swoop on you and lift you up, before setting you down on a mountain, where you should slit open the skin and come out. The bird will be scared away from you and will go off, leaving you alone. Walk on for half a day and you will find in front of you a strange-looking palace. Enter it and you will have achieved what you wanted, as it was because we went into it that we blacken our faces and each of us has lost an eye. It would take a long time to explain all this, as each of us has a tale to tell of how his right eye was plucked out.’
I was pleased when I heard this, and after I had done what they had instructed, the bird came and carried me off, leaving me on the mountain top. I got out of the skin and walked on until I reached the palace, where I found forty girls, beautiful as moons, at whom no one could tire of looking. On seeing me, they all greeted me warmly. ‘We have been expecting you for a month,’ they said, ‘and praise be to God Who has brought us one who deserves us and whom we deserve.’ They seated me on a high dais and said: ‘Today you are our lord and master and we are your slave girls, under your command, so give us your orders.’ I was astonished by all this, but they brought me food and we ate together, after which they fetched drink. They clustered around me and five of them spread out a mat around which they set out quantities of scented flowers, together with fruits, fresh and dried. Then they brought wine and we sat down to drink as they sang to the music of the lute.
The wine circulated and such was my delight that I forgot all worldly cares. ‘This is the life,’ I said, and I stayed with them until it was time to sleep. ‘Take whichever of us you choose to sleep with you,’ they said. So I took one of them, with a beautiful face, dark eyes, black hair, well-spaced teeth, perfect in all aspects, with joining eyebrows, like a supple bough or a sprig of sweet basil, astonishing and amazing the mind. As the poet has said:
It shows ignorance to compare her to a tender branch,
And how far is she unlike a gazelle!
How can the dear gazelle have a form like hers
Or honeyed lips like hers – how sweet a drink –
Or her wide eyes, that act as murderers,
Capturing the desperate lover, tortured and then slain?
I yearn for her; mine is a heathen love;
No wonder that the lovesick is in love.
I recited to her:
My eyes see nothing but your loveliness;
Apart from you no thought enters my heart,
For every thought of mine is fixed on you;
In your love is my death and my rebirth.
I then got up and spent a night of unsurpassed pleasure sleeping with her. In the morning, the girls took me to the baths, washed me and gave me the most splendid of clothes to wear. Then they brought out food and drink and we ate and drank, the wine circulating until nightfall. This time I chose another lovely, pliant girl. As the poet describes:
I saw upon her breast two caskets sealed with musk,
Withheld from any lover’s grasp,
Guarded with arrows she shoots from her eyes –
Arrows that strike down any who attack.
I passed the most delightful of nights, sleeping with her until dawn. In short, my lady, I spent a whole year with these girls, enjoying a carefree life, but as the next year began, they said: ‘Would that we had never known you, but if you listen to us you can save yourself.’ They then started to weep and when I asked them what the matter was, they explained: ‘We are the daughters of kings, and we have been gathered together here for a
period of years. We go away for forty days and then stay here for a year, eating, drinking, enjoying ourselves and taking our pleasure, after which we go off again. This is our custom and we are afraid that when we leave you, you will not do what we tell you. Here are the keys of the palace, which we are handing over to you. In the palace are forty rooms, thirty-nine of which you may enter, but you must take care not to open the door of the fortieth, or else you will be forced to leave us.’ ‘If that is so,’ I said, ‘then I shall certainly not open it.’
One of them then came to me, embraced me, wept and recited the lines:
If after separation we come close again,
The frown upon Time’s face will turn into a smile.
If a sight of you serves as kohl for my eyes,
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 15