The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  Written by wind, with clouds as punctuation.

  Shams al-Din halted in the Maidan al-Hasa, where he pitched his tents, telling his servants that they would rest there for two days. For their part, they then went into the city to do as they pleased, one selling, one buying, one going to the baths and another to the Umaiyad Mosque, whose like is to be found nowhere in the world. ‘Ajib went out accompanied by a eunuch and they entered the city to look at the sights, with the eunuch walking behind holding a cudgel so heavy that were he to use it to strike a camel, the beast would never rise again. The people of Damascus looked at ‘Ajib, his well-formed figure, his splendour and his beauty, for he was a remarkably handsome boy with soft manners, more delicate than the northern breeze, sweeter than cold water to the thirsty man and more delightful than the recovery of health to the sick. As a result, he was followed by a large crowd, some running behind him and others going on ahead and sitting in the road looking at him as he passed.

  This went on until, as had been decreed by fate, the eunuch stopped at the shop of his father Hasan. In the twelve years that he had spent in Damascus, Hasan’s beard had grown long and he had matured in intelligence. The cook had died and he had taken over his wealth and his shop, having been acknowledged before the judges and the notaries as his son. When ‘Ajib and the eunuch halted by his shop that day, Hasan looked at ‘Ajib, his son, and, taking note of how extremely handsome he was, his heart beat fast, blood sensed the pull of blood, and he felt linked to the boy by affection. He happened to have cooked a dish of sugared pomegranate seeds and as God had inspired him with love for his son, he called out to him: ‘My master, who has taken possession of my heart and for whom I yearn, would you enter my shop, mend my broken heart and eat of my food?’ Then, spontaneously, his eyes filled with tears and he thought of what he had been and what he now was.

  As for ‘Ajib, when he heard what his father had said, he felt drawn to him. He told this to the eunuch, adding: ‘It is as though this cook is a man who has parted from his son. Let us go into his shop, so that we may comfort him and eat what he gives us as guests. It may be that, if I do this for him, God may unite me with my father.’ ‘A fine thing, by God!’ exclaimed the eunuch when he heard this. ‘Do viziers’ sons stay eating in a cookshop? I use this stick to keep people away from you lest they even look at you, and I shall never feel safe in letting you go in here.’ When Hasan heard this, he was astonished and turned to the eunuch with tears running down his cheeks, while ‘Ajib said: ‘My heart is filled with love for this man.’ ‘Don’t say that,’ the eunuch replied, ‘for you are never going in there.’ Hasan himself then turned to the eunuch and said: ‘Great one, why do you not mend my broken heart by entering my shop yourself, you who are like a chestnut, dark but with a white heart, you who fit the description of the poet?’ ‘What is this you say?’ said the eunuch, laughing. ‘Produce the description but keep it short.’ So Hasan started to recite these lines:

  Were he not educated and reliable,

  He would hold no office in the royal palace

  Or be given charge of the harem. Oh what a servant,

  Who, for his beauty, heavenly angels serve!

  The eunuch was filled with admiration when he heard this and, taking ‘Ajib with him, he entered the shop. Hasan then ladled into a bowl an excellent mixture of pomegranate seeds, almonds and sugar and they both ate after Hasan had welcomed them, saying: ‘You have done me a favour, so enjoy your meal.’ ‘Ajib then said to his father: ‘Sit and eat with us, and it may be that God will bring us together with those whom we wish to meet.’ ‘My boy,’ said Hasan, ‘have you, young as you are, had to suffer the loss of dear ones?’ ‘Yes, uncle,’ replied ‘Ajib. ‘This has caused me bitter distress, and the one whom I have lost is my father. My grandfather and I have come to search for him through all the lands, and I am filled with sad longing for him.’ He then wept bitterly and his father wept because of his loss and because of the boy’s tears, remembering the loss of his own loved ones and his separation from his father and his mother, while the eunuch shared his sorrow. They then ate their fill, after which the two got up, and when they left the shop, Hasan felt as though his soul had parted from his body and gone with them.

  He could not endure to be parted from them for the blink of an eye and so he locked up his shop and followed, without realizing that ‘Ajib was his son. He hurried on until he caught up with them before they had gone out of the main gate. The eunuch turned and asked what he wanted. ‘When you left my shop,’ replied Hasan, ‘I felt that my soul had gone with you and, as I have an errand in the suburbs outside the gate, I wanted to go with you, do my errand, and then go back.’ The eunuch was angry. ‘This is what I was afraid of,’ he told ‘Ajib. ‘The bite that we had to eat was unfortunate in that it has put us under an obligation, and here is that fellow following us from place to place.’ ‘Ajib turned, and finding Hasan walking behind him, he became angry and his face flushed red. To the eunuch he said: ‘Let him walk on the public road, but if, when we come out to our tents, we find that he is still following us, then we can drive him away.’

  He then lowered his head and walked on, with the eunuch behind him and Hasan trailing them, as far as the Maidan al-Hasa. When they were close to the tents, they turned and saw him still behind them. ‘Ajib was afraid that the eunuch might tell his grandfather, and he became very angry for fear lest he be reported as having entered the cookshop and having been followed by the cook. So he turned and found Hasan’s eyes fixed on his, while Hasan himself looked like a body without a soul. To ‘Ajib it seemed as though his eyes were those of a pervert or that he was a debauchee, and so, in a fit of rage, he took a stone and hit his father with it, knocking him unconscious, with the blood running down over his face. He and the eunuch then went to the tents.

  When Hasan recovered consciousness, he wiped away the blood, and after cutting off a strip of his turban, he bandaged his head. He blamed himself and said: ‘I wronged the boy by shutting up my shop and following him, making him think that I was a pervert.’ So he went back to the shop and went on selling his food, but he started to yearn for his mother in Basra and he recited in tears:

  You wrong Time if you ask it to be fair.

  Do not blame it; it was not created for fair dealing.

  Take what comes easily and leave care aside.

  Time must contain both trouble and happiness.

  He carried on with his business, while his uncle, Shams al-Din, after spending three days in Damascus, left for Homs, which he entered, and while he was on his journey he made enquiries wherever he went. He went to Diyar Bakr, Mardin and Mosul, and he kept on travelling until he reached Basra. After entering the city and settling himself there, he went to the sultan. When they met, the sultan treated him with respect and honour and asked him the reason for his visit. Shams al-Din told him his story and that his brother was Nur al-Din ‘Ali. ‘May God have mercy on him,’ interjected the sultan, adding: ‘He was my vizier and I loved him dearly, but he died fifteen years ago. He left a son, but the son only stayed for a month after his death before going missing and we have never heard any more news of him, although his mother, the daughter of my old vizier, is still with us.’

  When Shams al-Din heard that the mother of his nephew was well, he was delighted and told the sultan that he would like to meet her. Permission was immediately granted and he went to visit her in his brother’s house. He let his gaze wander around it, and kissing its threshold, he thought of his brother and of how he had died in exile. So he shed tears and recited these lines:

  I pass by the dwellings, the dwellings of Laila,

  And I kiss first one wall and then another.

  It is not love for the dwellings that wounds my heart,

  But love for the one who lived in them.

  He passed through the door into a large hall where there was another door, arched and vaulted with flint inset with marble of different kinds and different colours. He walked through the house
, and as he looked at it and glanced around, he found the name of his brother inscribed in letters of gold. He went up to the inscription, kissed it and wept as he remembered his separation from his brother. He then recited these lines:

  Every time it rises, I ask the sun for news of you,

  And I question the lightning about you when it flashes.

  Longing folds and unfolds me in its hands

  All night, but I do not complain of pain.

  Dear ones, for long, after you went,

  Separation from you has left me cut to pieces.

  Were you to grant my eyes a sight of you –

  It would be better still if we could meet.

  Do not think I am busied with another;

  My heart has no room for another love.

  He then walked on until he reached the room of his brother’s widow, the mother of Hasan, who throughout her son’s disappearance had been weeping and wailing constantly, night and day. When long years had passed, she had made a marble cenotaph for him in the middle of the hall, where she would shed tears, and it was only beside this that she would sleep. When Shams al-Din came to her room, he heard the sound of her voice, and standing behind the door, he listened to her reciting:

  In God’s Name, grave, are his beauties now gone,

  And has that bright face changed?

  Grave, you are neither a garden nor a sky,

  So how do you contain both branch and moon?*

  While she was reciting this, Shams al-Din came in. He greeted her and told her that he was her husband’s brother, and he then explained what had happened, giving her the full story, that her son Hasan had spent a whole night with his daughter ten years earlier and had then disappeared at dawn. ‘He left my daughter pregnant,’ Shams al-Din added, ‘and she gave birth to a son who is here with me, and he is your grandson, the son of your son by my daughter.’

  When she looked at her brother-in-law and heard the news that her son was still alive, she got up and threw herself at his feet, kissing them and reciting:

  How excellent is the man who brings good tidings of your coming!

  He has brought with him the most delightful news.

  Were he to be contented with a rag, I would give him

  A heart that was torn in pieces when you said goodbye.

  Shams al-Din then sent a message telling ‘Ajib to come, and when he did, his grandmother got up, embraced him and wept. ‘This is no time for tears,’ Shams al-Din told her. ‘This is the time for you to make your preparations to travel with us to Egypt, and perhaps God will allow us and you to join your son, my nephew.’ She agreed to leave and instantly got up to collect what she needed, together with her treasures and her maids. As soon as she was ready, Shams al-Din went to the sultan of Basra and took leave of him, while the sultan, in his turn, sent gifts and presents with him to take to the sultan of Egypt.

  Shams al-Din then left immediately and travelled to Damascus, where he halted and pitched camp at al-Qanun. He told his entourage that they would stay there for a week so that they could buy gifts for the sultan. ‘Ajib went out, telling his servant, Layiq, that he wanted to look around the place, adding: ‘Come with me and we shall go down to the market and pass through the city to see what has happened to that cook whose food we ate and whose head I hurt. He had been kind to me and I harmed him.’ Layiq agreed and the two of them left the camp, ‘Ajib being drawn to his father by the ties of kinship.

  After entering the city, they went on until they came to the cookshop, where they found Hasan. It was close to the time of the afternoon prayer and, as luck would have it, he had cooked a dish of pomegranate seeds. When they approached him, ‘Ajib looked at him with a feeling of affection, while noting the scar on his forehead left by the blow from the stone. He greeted Hasan affectionately, while, for his part, Hasan was agitated: his heart fluttered, he hung his head towards the ground and he tried without success to move his tongue around his mouth. Then looking up at his son, with meekness and humility he recited these lines:

  I wished for my beloved, but when he came in sight,

  In my bewilderment I could not control tongue or eyes.

  I bowed my head in reverence and respect;

  I tried to hide my feelings, but in vain.

  I had whole reams of blame to give to him,

  But when we met I could not speak a word.

  Then he said to ‘Ajib: ‘Mend my broken heart and eat of my food. By God, when I look at you, my heart races and it was only because I had lost my wits that I followed you.’ ‘You must indeed be fond of me. I took a bite to eat with you, after which you followed me, wanting to bring shame on me. I shall only eat your food on condition that you swear not to come out after me or follow me again, for otherwise I shall never come back here, although we are staying for a week so that my grandfather can buy gifts for the sultan.’ Hasan agreed and ‘Ajib entered with his servant. Hasan presented them with a bowl of pomegranate seeds and ‘Ajib asked him to give them the pleasure of eating with him. He accepted gladly, but as his heart and body were concentrated on ‘Ajib, he kept staring fixedly at his face. ‘Ajib objected, saying: ‘Didn’t I tell you that you are an unwelcome lover, so stop staring at my face.’

  When Hasan heard what his son said, he recited these lines:

  You have a hidden secret in men’s hearts,

  Folded away, concealed and not spread out.

  Your beauty puts to shame the gleaming moon

  While your grace is that of the breaking dawn.

  The radiance of your face holds unfulfillable desires,

  Whose well-known feelings grow and multiply.

  Am I to melt with heat, when your face is my paradise,

  And shall I die of thirst when your saliva is Kauthar?*

  Hasan kept filling ‘Ajib’s plate and then that of the eunuch. They ate their fill and then got up. Hasan rose himself and poured water over their hands, after which he unfastened a silk towel from his waist on which he dried their hands before sprinkling them with rosewater from a flask that he had with him. Then he left his shop and came back with a jug of sherbet mixed with musk-flavoured rosewater, which he presented to them, saying: ‘Complete your kindness.’ ‘Ajib took it and drank, after which he passed it to the eunuch. They then drank from it in turns until their stomachs were full, as they had had more than usual.

  After leaving, they hurried back to their camp, where ‘Ajib went to see his grandmother. She kissed him and then, thinking of her son, she sighed, shed tears and recited:

  I hoped that we might meet, and, after losing you,

  There was nothing for me to wish for in my life.

  I swear that there is nothing in my heart except your love,

  And God, my Lord, knows every secret thing.

  She then asked ‘Ajib where he had been, to which he replied that he had gone into the city of Damascus. She got up and brought him a bowl of pomegranate seeds that had only been sweetened a little, and she told the eunuch to sit down with his master. ‘By God,’ said the eunuch to himself, ‘I have no urge to eat,’ but he sat down. As for ‘Ajib, when he took his seat, his stomach was full of what he had already eaten and drunk, but he took a morsel, dipped it among the pomegranate seeds and ate it. Because he was full, he found it undersweetened and he exclaimed: ‘Ugh, what is this nasty food?’ ‘My son,’ said his grandmother, ‘are you blaming my cooking? I cooked this myself and no one can cook as well as I can, except for your father Hasan.’ ‘By God, grandmother,’ replied ‘Ajib, ‘this dish of yours is disgusting. We have just come across a cook in the city who cooked a dish of pomegranate seeds whose smell would open up your heart. His food makes one want to eat again, while, in comparison, yours is neither one thing nor another.’

  On hearing this, his grandmother became very angry and, looking at the eunuch…

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the twenty-fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I
have heard, O auspicious king, that on hearing this, his grandmother became very angry and, looking at the eunuch, she reproached him, telling him that he had spoiled her son by taking him into a cookshop. The apprehensive eunuch denied this, saying: ‘We didn’t go into the shop but merely passed by it.’ ‘Ajib, however, insisted that they had gone in and had eaten, adding: ‘And it was better than your food.’ His grandmother got up and told her brother-in-law about this, turning him against the eunuch, who was then brought before him. ‘Why did you take my grandson into the cookshop?’ Shams al-Din asked. In his fear, the eunuch again denied this, but ‘Ajib insisted: ‘We did go in and we ate pomegranate seeds until we were full, after which the cook gave us a drink with snow and sugar.’ Shams al-Din became even angrier with the eunuch and asked him again. He again denied it, at which Shams al-Din said: ‘If you are telling me the truth, then sit down and eat in front of me.’ The eunuch came forward and tried to do this but failed and had to throw away what he had taken. ‘Master,’ he explained, ‘I am still full from yesterday.’ Shams al-Din then realized that he had indeed eaten in the cookshop. He ordered the slaves to throw him down, which they did, and he then started to beat him painfully. The eunuch called for help. ‘Don’t beat me, master,’ he cried, ‘and I’ll tell you the truth.’ After this, Shams al-Din stopped beating him and demanded the truth. ‘We did go into the shop,’ he said, ‘and the cook was preparing a dish of pomegranate seeds. He gave us some of it and, by God, never in my life have I tasted anything like it, while I have never tasted anything nastier than this stuff that is before us.’

  Hasan’s mother was angry and told him: ‘You must go to this cook and fetch us a bowl of pomegranate seeds that he has prepared. You can then show it to your master and he can then say which is better and more tasty.’ The eunuch agreed and was given a bowl and half a dinar. He went to the shop and said to Hasan: ‘In my master’s house we have laid a bet on your cooking. They have pomegranate seeds there, so for this half dinar give me some of yours, and take care over it, for your cooking has already cost me a painful beating.’ Hasan laughed and said: ‘By God, this is a dish that nobody can cook properly except for my mother and me, and she is now in a distant land.’ He then ladled the food into the bowl and took it to put the finishing touches on it using musk and rosewater.