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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  I have heard, O auspicious king, that the barber’s brother said: ‘I shall again look down towards the ground and I shall continue in this way until her unveiling has been completed.’ THE BARBER WENT ON:

  ‘I shall then order one of the eunuchs to bring a purse with five hundred dinars,’ my brother thought to himself, ‘and when he has brought it, I shall give it to the bride’s attendants and tell them to bring me into the bride. When they do this, I shall not look at her or deign to speak to her, so that people may say: “What a great-souled man this is!” Then her mother will come and kiss my head and my hand and say: “Master, look at your servant. She wants you to approach her, to mend her broken heart.” When she sees that I make no reply, she will come and shower kisses on my feet before pleading: “Master, my daughter is a beautiful girl who has never seen a man. If she finds you shunning her, her heart will be broken, so please turn to her and speak to her.” She will then get up and fetch a glass of wine, which her daughter will take and bring to me. I shall leave her standing in front of me as I recline on a brocaded cushion, and such will be my pride that I shall not glance at her, so that she will take me for a mighty sultan and will say: “Master, I implore you by God not to reject this glass from my hand, who am your servant.” I shall still not speak to her and she will press me and say: “You must drink it,” and she will put it to my mouth. I shall shake my fist in her face and kick her with my foot, like this.’ My brother then kicked with his foot and the tray with the glasses fell to the ground, so that everything on it was smashed.

  ‘All this is the result of my pride,’ cried my brother. He pummelled his face, tore his clothes and started to weep as he struck himself. The passers-by on their way to the Friday prayer were staring at him. Some of them looked at him with pity, while others felt no concern for him; as for my brother himself, he was in the position of having lost both his capital and his expected profit. After he had been weeping for some time, up came a beautiful lady, accompanied by a number of eunuchs. She was riding on a mule with a saddle of gold and from her spread the scent of musk as she made her way to the Friday prayer. When she saw the broken glasses and the state that my weeping brother was in, she felt pity for him and asked about him. She was told that a tray full of glassware, which represented his livelihood, had been broken and it was this that had brought him to his present state. Summoning one of her eunuchs, she said: ‘Give what money you have with you to this poor man,’ at which the eunuch handed my brother a purse in which he found five hundred dinars.

  When he had laid his hand on this, he almost died of the excess of joy. He called down blessings on his benefactress and went back home, a rich man. As he sat there thinking, he heard a knock on the door. He got up and opened it, to find an old woman whom he did not know. ‘My son,’ she said to him, ‘it is almost time for the prayer, but I have not performed the ritual ablution. Would you let me in to your house so that I may do it?’ My brother agreed and, going in himself, he told the old woman to follow, which she did, and he handed her a jug for her ablution. He then sat, still overjoyed because of the money, which he stowed away in his belt. When he had finished doing this and the old woman had completed her ablution, she came to where he was sitting and prayed, performing two rak‘as, after which she called down blessings on him.

  He thanked her for that and, reaching for his money, he gave her two dinars, saying to himself: ‘This is a charitable gift on my part.’ When she saw the money, she exclaimed: ‘Why do you take those who love you for beggars? Take back your money, as I don’t need it, or else give it back to the lady who gave it to you. If you want to meet her, I can arrange that for you, as she is my mistress.’ ‘Mother,’ said my brother, ‘how can I get to her?’ ‘My son,’ she replied, ‘the lady is attracted to you, but she is the wife of a wealthy man. So take all your money with you and follow me and I shall lead you to her. When you meet her, use all your charm and every fair word at your command, and in that way you will be able to enjoy all you want of her beauty and her wealth.’

  My brother took all his money and got up and went with her, scarcely believing what was happening. She walked on, with my brother at her heels, until she came to an imposing door. She knocked and out came a Rumi slave girl, who opened the door for her. The old woman entered and told my brother to come in with her. He entered a spacious mansion, going into a large room whose floor was strewn with wonderful carpets and whose walls were covered in hangings. My brother sat down with his gold in front of him and his turban on his knee. Before he knew what was happening, in came a lady as beautiful as any he had ever seen, wearing a most splendid dress. My brother rose to his feet and she smiled at him and showed pleasure at their meeting. She motioned to him to sit, ordered the door to be closed and then took him by the hand. Together they went into a separate room, strewn with various types of brocade. My brother sat down with the lady beside him and she played with him for a time.

  Then she got up and said: ‘Don’t move from here until I come back,’ after which she went away. While my brother was sitting there, in came an enormous black slave holding a drawn sword. ‘Miserable man,’ he said, ‘who brought you here and what are you doing?’ At the sight of this slave, my brother’s tongue was tied and he could make no reply. So the man took him, stripped him of his clothes and went on beating him with the flat of his sword until he fell on the ground, fainting because of the violence of the beating. The ill-omened slave thought that he was dead and my brother heard him say: ‘Where is the girl with the salt?’ A slave girl then came up to him carrying a large dish on which there was a great quantity of salt. The slave kept on pouring this on my brother’s wounds as he lay motionless for fear that if the slave realized that he was still alive, he would kill him.

  After the girl had gone, the slave called for the cellar keeper and this time it was the old woman who came to my brother and dragged him by his feet to a cellar into which she threw him on top of a pile of corpses. He stayed where he was for two whole days, but thanks to God’s providence, the salt saved his life, as it stopped the flow of blood. When he found that he had strength enough to move, he left the cellar, opened its trapdoor in spite of his fear, and came out on the other side. God granted him shelter; it was dark as he walked and he hid himself in the entrance hall until dawn. In the morning, the damned old woman came out in search of another victim while, unknown to her, my brother followed behind. He then made for his own house, where he treated his hurts until he had recovered.

  Meanwhile, he had been keeping a constant watch over the old woman as she took people, one by one, to her house. During this time he uttered no word, but when he had regained his spirits and his strength, he got hold of a strip of material and made it into a purse, which he then filled with glass, tying it around his waist. He disguised himself as a Persian so that no one could recognize him, and he hid a sword beneath his clothes. When he saw the old woman, he accosted her in a Persian accent, saying: ‘Old woman, I am a stranger and have just come today to this city where I know nobody. Do you have some scales that will take nine hundred dinars? If so, I would give you some of the money.’ ‘I have a son,’ she replied, ‘who is a money-changer and who has scales of all kinds. Come with me before he leaves his place of business so that he can weigh your gold.’ ‘Lead the way,’ said my brother, and she walked off followed by him until she came to the door. When she knocked, out came the same lady and the old woman smiled at her and said: ‘I have brought you some fat meat today.’ The lady took my brother by the hand and brought him into the room in which he had been before. She sat with him for a time and then left, telling him to wait until she came back. Before my brother knew it, in came the damned slave, with his drawn sword. ‘Get up, damn you,’ he told my brother, and when my brother had risen, the slave went on ahead with my brother behind him. My brother then reached for the sword beneath his clothes, struck at the slave and cut his head from his body, after which he dragged him by the feet to the cellar. ‘Where is the girl
with the salt?’ he cried, and when she came with the salt dish, she saw him with the sword in his hand and turned in flight. He followed and with a blow struck off her head. Then he called out: ‘Where is the old woman? Do you recognize me, you ill-omened creature?’ he asked when she came. ‘No, master,’ she replied. ‘I am the man with the dirhams,’ he said. ‘You came to my house, performed your ablution and prayed there, and then trapped me here.’ ‘Fear God,’ she cried, ‘and don’t judge me hastily.’ My brother paid no attention to this and continued to strike until he had cut her into four pieces.

  He then went out to look for the lady. When she saw him, she became distraught and cried: ‘Spare me!’ He did, and then asked her: ‘What brought you here with this black man?’ She said: ‘I was in the service of a merchant. This old woman often used to visit me and I became friendly with her. One day, she said to me: “We are having a wedding feast of unparalleled splendour at our house. Would you like to see it?” “Yes,” I replied, and I got up, put on my best clothes and my jewellery, and taking with me a purse containing a hundred dinars, I went here with her. When I came in, before I knew what was happening, the black man had seized me, and here I have been for three years because of the wiles of this damned old woman.’ ‘Is there anything of his in the house?’ asked my brother. ‘A great deal,’ she replied, adding: ‘Carry it off if you can, asking God for guidance.’ My brother got up and went with her as she opened chests that were full of purses. My brother was bewildered, but the lady said: ‘Leave me here and go and get someone to carry away the money.’ So out he went and hired ten men, but when he got back he found no trace of the lady, and there was nothing left except a few of the purses and the household goods. He realized then that he had been tricked and so he took the money that was left and he opened the storerooms, taking their contents and leaving nothing in the house.

  He spent a happy night, but in the morning he found twenty soldiers at the door, who laid hands on him and said: ‘You are wanted by the wali.’ They took him off and although he pleaded with them to be permitted to pass by his house, they would not allow him the time. He promised them money, but they refused to accept and bound him tightly with ropes and carried him off. On the way he came across a friend of his, to whose robe he clung, pleading with him to stay with him and to help free him from the soldiers. The man stopped and asked the soldiers what the matter was. ‘The wali has ordered us to bring this man before him and we are on our way with him now.’ My brother’s friend asked them to let him go, promising to give them five hundred dinars and suggesting that when they got back to the wali they could tell him that they had not found my brother. They would not listen to this, but started to drag my brother along on his face until they brought him to the wali.

  When the wali saw him, he asked him where he had got the goods and the money. My brother said: ‘I want a guarantee of immunity,’ at which the wali gave him the kerchief that was a sign of this. My brother then told of his adventure with the old woman from beginning to end and of the flight of the lady. He added: ‘Take what you want from what I got, but leave me enough to live on.’ The wali, however, took all the goods and the money, and as he was afraid that this might come to the ears of the sultan, he summoned my brother and threatened to hang him if he did not leave the city. My brother agreed to go, but when he left for another town, he was set upon by thieves, who stripped him, beat him and cut off his ears. When I heard of this, I went out to take him clothes and then I brought him into the city secretly, and gave him an allowance for food and drink.

  As for my sixth brother, Commander of the Faithful, the one whose lips have been cut off, he had become poor, and one day he went out in search of something with which to keep body and soul together. On his way, he caught sight of a fine house, with a wide and lofty portico and eunuchs at the door, having all the trappings of authority. In answer to his question, a bystander told him that the house belonged to one of the Barmecides. He approached the doorkeepers and asked them for alms. ‘Go in through the main door,’ they said, ‘and you will get what you want from the owner.’ So my brother entered the portico and walked through until he came to a most beautiful and elegant building, paved with marble and adorned with hangings, in the middle of which was a garden whose like he had never seen before. He looked round in bewilderment, not knowing where to go, and he then advanced to the head of the room, where he saw a man, bearded and with a handsome face, who stood up to greet him. The man asked him how he was, and my brother told him that he was in need. On hearing this, the other showed great concern, and stretching out his hand to his clothes, he tore them, saying: ‘Are you to be hungry in a town in which I live? I cannot bear the thought of it.’

  He promised my brother all manner of good things and said: ‘You must share my salt with me.’ ‘Sir,’ said my brother, ‘I am at the end of my endurance, for I am desperately hungry.’ ‘Boy,’ shouted the man to a servant, ‘bring the basin and the jug.’ Then, to my brother he said: ‘Come and wash your hands.’ My brother got up to do this but saw neither basin nor jug. The man went through the motions of hand washing, after which he shouted: ‘Bring out the table.’ Again, my brother saw nothing, although his host invited him to eat and not to be ashamed, after which he himself pretended to be eating. He kept saying to my brother: ‘I am surprised at your lack of appetite. Don’t eat too little, for I know how hungry you must be.’ My brother started to make a pretence of eating as his host urged him on, saying: ‘Eat up and try this beautiful white bread.’ As my brother could see nothing, he said to himself: ‘This fellow likes making a fool of people.’ Out loud he said: ‘Never in my life, sir, have I come across whiter or more delicious bread.’ ‘It was baked,’ replied the host, ‘by a slave girl whom I bought for five hundred dinars.’

  He then called out: ‘Bring the first course, the pie, and put lots of fat on it.’ Turning to my brother, he asked whether he had ever seen anything more delicious, urging him again to eat up and not be ashamed. Next, he called for ‘the stew with the fatted sandgrouse’. ‘Guest,’ he said to my brother, ‘start eating, for you are hungry and you need this.’ My brother started moving his jaws and munching, while the host kept calling for one type of dish after another. Nothing came, but he kept on urging my brother to eat. Eventually he told the servant to fetch the chickens stuffed with pistachio nuts. ‘By your life, my guest,’ he said, ‘these chickens have been fattened on pistachio nuts. You will have never tasted the like before, so eat up.’ ‘This is excellent, sir,’ agreed my brother, and the man began to move his hand towards my brother’s mouth, as though he was giving him mouthfuls to eat.

  He kept on enumerating particular types of food and describing them to my hungry brother, who grew even hungrier and longed for a barley loaf. ‘Have you come across anything more tasty than the seasoning of these dishes?’ asked his host, and when my brother said no, he urged him to eat heartily and not to be ashamed. When my brother said that he had had enough food, the servants were told to remove the dishes and bring in the desserts. ‘Take some of this to eat. It is good,’ said the man. ‘Eat some of these doughnuts. Take this one before the syrup runs out of it.’ ‘Sir, may I never be deprived of you,’ said my brother, and he then started to ask his host about the amount of musk in the doughnuts. ‘This is my custom,’ replied the other. ‘My people put a mithqal of musk in each doughnut, together with half a mithqal of ambergris.’ All the while my brother was moving his head and his mouth and waggling his jaws. He was then invited to help himself to almonds – ‘Don’t be shy’ – but my brother said that he had had enough and could not eat another thing. ‘If you want to eat and enjoy yourself, my guest,’ said the host, ‘then for God’s sake don’t stay hungry.’ ‘Sir,’ said my brother, ‘how can anyone who has eaten all these various dishes be hungry?’

  Then he thought to himself that he would do something to make his host sorry for what he had done. ‘Bring the wine,’ said the man, and the servants moved their hands in the air as
though they were doing this. The man then gave my brother a cup and said: ‘Take this and tell me if you like it.’ ‘It has a fine bouquet,’ said my brother, ‘but I am in the habit of drinking wine that is twenty years old.’ ‘Then here is the stuff for you,’ said the host. ‘You will not find any better to drink.’ My brother thanked him, and moved his hand as though he was drinking. ‘Cheers and good health,’ he said, and the host, too, pretended to drink. Then he gave my brother another cup to drink, and my brother, pretending to be drunk, took him unawares, and lifting his arm until his armpit was bared, he gave him a resounding slap on the nape of the neck, following this up with another one. ‘What’s this, you scum?’ said the man. ‘Sir,’ replied my brother, ‘you have been generous to your servant. You have taken him into your house, given him food to eat and old wine to drink, but he has become drunk and attacked you like a hooligan. As a man of nobility you will put up with such folly and pardon his fault.’

  When the man heard this, he laughed loudly and said: ‘For a long time now I have been making fun of people and playing jokes on my friends, but you are the only man whom I have ever met with the ability and understanding to bear his part with me in all this. Now you have my forgiveness, so join me as my real companion and never leave me.’ He then ordered a number of the dishes that he had mentioned earlier to be brought out and he and my brother ate until they had had their fill. They then moved to the drinking room, where slave girls like moons sang tunes of all kinds to a variety of instruments, and they drank until drunkenness overcame them. The man became so friendly with his guest that the two of them were like brothers. Out of his deep affection for him, the host gave my brother robes of honour and in the morning they went back again to their eating and drinking.

  They continued like this for twenty years, but the host then died and the sultan seized his wealth together with my brother’s possessions, and as a result of this my brother was left poor and powerless. Accordingly, he fled away, but in the course of his journey he was set upon by Bedouin, who took him prisoner and brought him to their tribe. His captor started to torture him and to say: ‘Buy your life from me with cash, or else I’ll kill you.’ My brother began to weep and say: ‘By God, I have nothing at all. I am your captive so do what you want.’ The Bedouin brought out a knife, cut off my brother’s lips and pressed him hard again for money.