The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1
Page 26
The blind man may escape a pit
In which the man of keen sight will be trapped.
The ignorant may not be injured by a word
That brings destruction on learned and clever men.
A believer may find it hard to earn his daily bread,
Unlike the unbeliever and the libertine.
Of what use are man’s actions and his schemes?
What happens is what fate decrees for him.
When he had finished his recitation, HE WENT ON:
I entered Cairo, where I set down my goods at Khan Masrur, undoing the bales and stowing them away there. I gave my servant money to buy us something to eat, and I then had a short nap. When I got up, I walked down Bain al-Qasrain street, and then came back and passed the night in my lodgings. In the morning I opened up a bale and thought to myself that I would go through some of the markets to see what conditions were like. So I selected some fabrics, giving them to a number of my slaves to carry, and I went as far as the covered market of Jirjis, where the brokers, who had learned of my arrival, came to meet me. They took my goods and tried to auction them, but I was saddened to find that they failed to reach their capital cost. The senior auctioneer told me: ‘I can give you useful advice. Do what the merchants do and sell your goods on credit for a fixed term of months, using a scribe, an inspector and a money-changer. You will get your money every Monday and Thursday; for each of your dirhams you will get back two, and what is more, you will be able to enjoy the sights of Cairo and the Nile.’ ‘That is a sound idea,’ I said, so I took the brokers with me and went to the khan. They took my goods to the covered market, where I had a deed of sale prepared, giving the price. I took the document to a money-changer from whom I got a receipt, and after that I went back to the khan.
There I stayed for a period of days, breakfasting every day on a glass of wine, mutton and sweetmeats. This went on until the month when the money was due, and then I would go every Monday and Thursday to the covered market and sit by the merchants’ shops. The money-changer and the scribe would bring me what was due from the merchants until it was past the time for the afternoon prayer. I would then count it out, set my seal on its container and take it off with me to the khan. One Monday, after a visit to the baths, I went back to the khan and entered my room where I broke my fast with a glass of wine. Then I fell asleep and, on waking, I ate a chicken. After perfuming myself, I went to the shop of a merchant called Badr al-Din al-Bustani. When he saw me, he greeted me and chatted with me for a time until the market opened.
Just then, on to the scene came a woman with a proud carriage and a haughty gait. She wore a head-covering of extraordinary beauty, different perfumes wafting from her, and when she raised her veil, I found myself looking into her black eyes. She greeted Badr al-Din, who returned her greeting and got up to talk with her. When I heard her voice, love for her took hold of my heart. ‘Have you a piece of embroidered silk decorated with hunting scenes?’ she asked Badr al-Din, and he brought out for her one of the ones that he had bought from me and he sold it to her for twelve hundred dirhams. ‘I’ll take it now,’ she said, ‘and send you the money later.’ ‘I can’t wait for it,’ he said, ‘for here is the owner of the material and I owe him a share in the sale.’ ‘Bad luck to you,’ she replied. ‘I am in the habit of buying quantities of material from you for high prices, giving more than you ask and sending you the money.’ ‘Agreed,’ he said, ‘but I have to have it today.’ She then took the piece and threw it at him, saying: ‘People like you don’t know how to value anyone.’
She then rose to leave and, thinking that my soul was going with her, I got up and stopped her, saying: ‘Lady, as a favour to me, be generous enough to retrace your steps.’ She turned back, smiling, and said: ‘It is for your sake that I have come back.’ She took a seat opposite me in the shop and I asked Badr al-Din for what price the piece had been sold to him. ‘Eleven hundred dirhams,’ he said. ‘You can have a hundred dirhams’ profit,’ I told him. ‘Bring me a piece of paper and I shall write down its price.’ I then took the material and wrote a receipt for Badr al-Din in my own hand, after which I gave the material to the lady and said: ‘Take it with you, and if you like, you can pay me for it next market day, or, if you prefer, take it as a guest gift from me.’ ‘May God give you a good reward,’ she said, ‘endowing you with my wealth and making you my husband’ – a prayer which was accepted by God. Then I said to her: ‘Lady, accept this piece of silk and you can have another like it, but let me see your face.’
One glance at this was followed by a thousand sighs, and love for her was fixed so firmly in my heart that I took leave of my senses. She then lowered her veil, took the silk and said: ‘Sir, do not leave me desolate,’ after which she turned away. I sat in the covered market until after the afternoon prayer, out of my mind thanks to the domination of love. Consumed by the violence of this passion, I got up and asked Badr al-Din about the lady. He told me that she was a wealthy woman, the daughter of an emir who had died, leaving her a large amount of money. I then left him and went off back to the khan. When supper came, I was unable to eat anything for thinking of her; when I tried to sleep, sleep would not come, and I remained wakeful until morning. I then got up, changed into different clothes, drank a glass of wine and had a small breakfast, after which I went to Badr al-Din’s shop.
I greeted him and sat with him, and then the lady came as usual, dressed more splendidly than before and accompanied by a maid. She greeted me and not Badr al-Din, and then, speaking eloquently in as sweet and delightful a voice as I had ever heard, she said: ‘Send someone with me to take the twelve hundred dirhams, the price of the silk.’ ‘What is the hurry?’ I asked. ‘May we never be deprived of you,’ she replied, and she then paid over the purchase price to me. I sat talking to her and my gestures led her to understand that I wanted union with her. At this, she got up hurriedly and shied away from me, leaving my heart caught in her toils. I followed her out of the market and was suddenly confronted by a servant girl, who said: ‘Master, come and speak to my mistress.’ Taken aback, I replied: ‘There is nobody here who knows me.’ She replied: ‘How quickly you have forgotten her – my lady who was at the shop of Badr al-Din, the merchant, today,’ and I then walked with her to the money-changer.
When the lady saw me, she brought me over to her side and said: ‘My darling, you have been in my thoughts, and love for you has taken possession of my heart. Since the moment that I saw you I have not been able to enjoy sleep or food or drink.’ ‘I suffered twice as much,’ I replied, ‘and my present condition speaks for itself without needing to voice it.’ ‘My darling,’ she asked, ‘shall it be your house or mine?’ ‘I am a stranger,’ I replied, ‘and I have no place to go except the khan, so if you would be so good, let it be with you.’ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but this is Friday night and so there is nothing to be done until tomorrow after prayers. When you have prayed, get on your donkey and ask for the Habbaniya quarter. Then, when you get there, ask for the house of Barakat the naqib, who is known as Abu Shama, for that is where I am living. Don’t be late, for I shall be expecting you.’
I was overjoyed at this; we parted and I went to my khan, where I spent a sleepless night. As soon as dawn had broken, I got up, changed my clothes, perfumed and scented myself and, taking with me fifty dinars wrapped up in a kerchief, I walked from Khan Masrur to Bab Zuwaila. There I got on a donkey and told its owner to take me to the Habbaniya quarter. He set off instantly and in no time he had come to a street called Darb al-Munqari. I told him to go into the street and ask for the house of the naqib. He was only away for a short time before coming back to tell me to dismount. I asked him to lead the way to the house, and then I said: ‘Come for me here tomorrow morning and take me back.’ When he had agreed to this, I gave him a quarter of a dinar and, after taking it, he went off.
I then knocked at the door and out came two young girls with swelling breasts, virgins like moons. ‘Come in,’ they said. ‘Our mistr
ess is expecting you, and she did not sleep last night, so pleased was she with you.’ I entered a vaulted hall with seven doors, round which were windows overlooking a garden with fruits of all kinds, gushing waters and singing birds. The walls were treated with sultani gypsum in which a man could see his own face, while the ceiling was ornamented with gold, showing inscriptions in lapis lazuli, encompassing all the qualities of beauty and dazzling those who looked at it. The floor was laid with variegated marble and strewn with carpets, coloured silks and mattresses, while in the centre was a fountain, at whose corners were birds made of pearls and other gems. I entered and sat down…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the twenty-sixth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O auspicious king, that THE YOUNG MERCHANT TOLD THE CHRISTIAN:
When I entered and sat down, before I knew it, the lady had come forward, ornamented with henna and wearing a crown studded with pearls and other gems. When she saw me, she smiled at me, hugged me to her breast, and setting her mouth on mine she started to suck my tongue as I sucked hers. ‘Have you really come to me?’ she said. ‘I am your slave,’ I replied. She said: ‘You are welcome. From the day that I saw you, I have enjoyed neither sleep nor food.’ ‘It is the same with me,’ I told her, and we sat and talked, while I kept my head bent downwards out of bashfulness. It was not long before she produced a meal with the most splendid of foods, ragouts, and meats fried with honey, together with stuffed chickens. We both ate until we had had enough and the servants then brought me a bowl and a jug. I washed my hands and we used musk-infused rosewater to perfume ourselves, after which we sat talking. She then recited these lines:
Had I known of your coming, I would have spread out
My heart’s blood and the pupils of my eyes.
I would have strewn my cheeks to welcome you,
So that you might have walked on my eyelids.*
She kept telling me of her sufferings, while I told her of mine, and her love had so strong a grip on me that all my wealth was as nothing beside it. We then started to play, dallying with each other and exchanging kisses until nightfall. At this point, the maids produced us a complete meal with food and wine, and we drank until midnight, when we went to bed. I slept with her until morning, and never in my life have I experienced a night like that. In the morning I got up and threw the kerchief with the dinars under the bed for her. I then said goodbye and went out, leaving her in tears. ‘Sir,’ she said, ‘when shall I see this handsome face again?’ ‘I shall be with you in the evening,’ I replied.
When I left, I met the donkey man who had brought me there the day before. He was standing at the door waiting for me and so I got on the donkey and went with him to Khan Masrur, where I dismounted and gave him half a dinar. ‘Come at sunset,’ I told him, and he agreed. I then had breakfast and went out to collect the money for my goods. I prepared a roast lamb for the lady and took some sweetmeats, after which I summoned a porter, put the food in his basket and paid him his hire, before going back to my own affairs, tending to them until sunset. The donkey man turned up, and taking fifty dinars in a kerchief, I went to the lady’s house, where I found that the servants had washed down the marble, polished the brass, filled the lamps and lit the candles, as well as making ready the food and straining the wine.
When the lady saw me, she threw her arms around my neck and said: ‘You left me desolate.’ The meal was then produced and we ate our fill, after which the maids cleared away the table and brought out the wine. We went on drinking until midnight, and then we went to the bedroom and slept until morning. Then I got up, gave her the fifty dinars as before and left. The donkey man was there and I rode to the khan, where I slept for an hour. After getting up, I made preparations for the evening meal, getting ready walnuts and almonds on a bed of peppered rice, together with fried colocasia roots, and I bought fruits, fresh and dried, as well as sweet-smelling flowers. When I had sent these off, I went back to the khan, and later I rode as usual with the donkey man to the house, taking fifty dinars wrapped in a kerchief. After I had entered, we ate, drank and then slept until morning, when I got up, gave the lady the kerchief and then rode back as usual to the khan.
Things went on like this for a time, until I woke up one morning and found that I had no money left at all. ‘The devil has done this,’ I said to myself, and I recited these lines:
When the rich man becomes poor, his splendour goes,
Just as the setting sun turns pale.
If he is absent, no one talks of him;
When present, he has no standing in his clan.
He walks through the markets covering his face,
While in the desert he sheds copious tears.
By God, he may be with his own people,
But even so, the poor man is a stranger.
I went out of the khan and walked up Bain al-Qasrain street, going on until I reached Bab Zuwaila. There I found a great crowd of people blocking the gate. As was fated, I saw a soldier and jostled him unintentionally. I touched his pocket with my hand, and on feeling it, I discovered that my fingers were resting on a purse there. Realizing that this was within my grasp, I removed it, but the soldier felt that his pocket had become lighter, and when he put his hand into it, he found it empty. He turned towards me, lifted his club and struck me on the head, knocking me to the ground. I was surrounded by people, who held on to the bridle of the man’s horse, exclaiming: ‘Do you strike this young man like that because you have been jostled?’ ‘He’s a damned thief!’ the soldier shouted at them. I then came to my senses and found people saying: ‘This is a handsome young man and he has not taken anything.’ Some of them believed this but others did not, and there was a great deal of argument. People were pulling me and wanting to free me from the soldier but, as fate had decreed, the wali, the police chief and his men came through the gate and found the people crowding around me and the soldier.
When the wali asked what the trouble was, the soldier said: ‘Sir, this man is a thief. I had in my pocket a blue purse with twenty dinars in it and while I was stuck in the crush, he took it.’ The wali asked whether there had been anyone with him. ‘No,’ he said, and the wali shouted to his police chief, who laid hold of me, leaving me no place to hide. ‘Strip him,’ ordered the wali, and when they did, they found the purse in my clothes. The wali took it, opened it and when he counted the money, he found in it twenty dinars, just as the soldier had said. He shouted angrily to the guards, who brought me before him. ‘Tell the truth, young man,’ he said. ‘Did you steal this purse?’ I hung my head and said to myself: ‘I can say that I didn’t steal it, but it has been found on me, and yet, if I confess that I did steal it, then I am in trouble.’ So I raised my head and said: ‘Yes, I took it.’
The wali was astonished when he heard me say this and he called for witnesses who, when they came, testified to what I had said. All this was happening by the Zuwaila gate. The wali then gave orders to the executioner, who cut off my right hand. Afterwards the soldier felt pity for me and, thanks to his intercession, the wali left me and went on his way. The people stayed around me and gave me a glass of wine, while the soldier gave me his purse, saying: ‘You are a handsome young man and you should not be a thief.’ I recited the lines:
By God, I am no robber, my trusty friend,
And neither am I a thief, O best of men.
The misfortunes of Time cast me down suddenly,
As my cares, temptation and poverty increased.
It was not you but God Who shot the arrow
That struck the royal crown from off my head.
After he had given me the purse, the soldier left me, while I went off myself, after wrapping my hand in a scrap of cloth and putting it inside the front of my clothes. I wasn’t feeling well and I had turned pale as the result of my experience; I walked unsteadily to the lady’s house, where I threw myself down on the bed. The lady looked at my altered colour and asked: �
�What is paining you? Why do I see that your manner has changed?’ ‘I have a headache,’ I replied, ‘and I’m not well.’ She was distressed and disturbed on my behalf. ‘Don’t distress me,’ she said, ‘but sit up, raise your head and tell me what has happened to you today, as it is clear from your face that you have a tale to tell.’ ‘Please don’t talk,’ I said, but she wept and said: ‘I fear that you have finished with me, for I can see that you are not your usual self.’ I kept silent, and although she went on talking, I made no reply. This went on until nightfall, when she brought me food, but I would not eat it lest she see me eating with my left hand. ‘I don’t want to eat just now,’ I told her, but she persisted: ‘Tell me what happened to you today, and why you are careworn and broken-hearted.’ ‘I shall tell you soon in my own time,’ I said. Then she brought me wine and said: ‘Take this, for it will remove your cares. You have to drink and then you can tell me your news.’ ‘Must I really tell you?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘If that is so,’ I said, ‘then give me to drink with your own hand.’ She filled a glass and drank it and then filled it again and handed it to me. I took it from her with my left hand and, with tears pouring from my eyes, I recited:
When God wills some fate to befall a man –
A man of intelligence, having all his senses –
He deafens him and blinds his heart,
Drawing out his intelligence as one pulls a hair.
When what He has decreed then comes to pass,
He gives it back that its owner may take note.
On finishing these lines, I took the glass in my left hand and wept. She gave a loud shriek and asked: ‘Why are you weeping, and so distressing me? Why did you take the glass in your left hand?’ ‘I have a boil on my right hand,’ I said. ‘Show it to me,’ she said, ‘and I will burst it for you.’ ‘It’s not ready for that,’ I said, adding: ‘Don’t pester me, for I’m not going to show it to you yet.’ I then drank the glass, and she went on pouring out wine for me, until I was overcome by drunkenness and fell asleep on the spot. She then looked and saw an arm without a hand; on searching me, she found the purse with the gold. She felt more grief than anyone had ever experienced before, and the pain of this grief for me stayed with her until morning.