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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

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

  I have heard, O auspicious king, that their father left great wealth to the two of them. Among this were a hundred loads of silk, brocade and containers of musk, with a note attached to them to say that they were destined for Baghdad, where Ghanim’s father had been intending to go. Some time after his death, Ghanim took the goods himself and made the journey to Baghdad, this being in the time of the caliph Harun al-Rashid. Before he left, he took his leave of his mother, his relatives and the townspeople, after which he set off with a group of merchants, entrusting his affairs to Almighty God, Who granted him a safe journey to Baghdad. In Baghdad, he rented a fine house, furnishing it with carpets, cushions and hangings, and here he stored his bales and stabled his mules and his camels. He stayed there until he was rested, and the merchants and the chief men of Baghdad came to greet him. He then took a bundle containing ten different sorts of precious materials, with their prices written on them, to the traders’ market. Here the traders greeted him warmly, showed him honour and brought him to the shop of their superintendent, where they seated him. He then handed over his bundle to this man, who opened it and took out the materials, which he sold for Ghanim at a profit of a hundred per cent.

  Ghanim was delighted and he started to sell his materials and the individual items bit by bit, over the period of a full year. At the start of the second year, he came to the covered hall in the market, only to find its doors closed. When he asked why that was, he was told that one of the merchants had died and that all the others had gone to walk in the funeral procession. He was asked whether he would like to go with them and so acquire a heavenly reward. ‘Yes,’ he replied, and, in answer to his question, he was told where the funeral was being held. He then performed the ritual ablution and walked with the others until they came to the chapel, where prayers were said over the dead man. Then all the merchants walked in front of the bier to the burial ground, with Ghanim modestly following them. The bier was carried out of the city and the procession threaded its way between the tombs until it reached the grave.

  They found that the dead man’s family had pitched a tent over the grave and had brought candles and lamps. The corpse was buried and the Quran reciters sat to recite verses over the grave. The merchants took their seats, as did Ghanim, but he was overcome by shyness, telling himself: ‘I cannot leave them, and will have to go back with them.’ They sat listening to the Quran until evening, when supper and sweetmeats were produced for them. The guests ate their fill, washed their hands and then sat down again in their places. Ghanim, however, was preoccupied by thoughts of his house and his goods. He was afraid of thieves and said to himself: ‘I am a stranger and suspected of being wealthy. If I spend the night away from home, thieves will steal my money and my goods.’

  Such was his fear for his possessions that he finally got up and left the company, excusing himself to them on the grounds of the call of nature. He started to walk, following the waymarks until he came to the city gate, but as it was now midnight, he found the gate shut. He could see nobody coming or going and the only sounds to be heard were the barking of dogs and the howls of jackals. He turned back, exclaiming: ‘There is no might and no power except with God! I was afraid for my wealth, which is why I came here, but now that I have found the gate shut, it is my life for which I fear.’ He went back in search of a place in which to sleep until morning and found a burial plot, surrounded by four walls, with a palm tree in the middle of it and a stone gateway, whose door stood open.

  He went in with the intention of sleeping there, but before he could fall asleep, he started to tremble, feeling the desolation of his situation among the tombs. So he got to his feet, went through the door and looked out. There in the distance, in the direction of the city gate, he could see a light. He walked a short way and then saw that the light was on the track leading to the burial plot where he was. Fearing for his life, he quickly shut the gate and climbed to the top of the palm tree, concealing himself among its branches.

  Little by little the light came nearer until, when it was close by, Ghanim looked towards it and saw three black slaves, two carrying a chest and one carrying a lantern and an axe. When they got near the tomb, one of the two carrying the chest said: ‘What’s the matter with you, Sawab?’ while the other one said: ‘What’s the matter with you, Kafur?’ ‘Weren’t we here at supper time and didn’t we leave the door open?’ said the first. ‘Yes, that’s true,’ replied the second. ‘Well, here it is locked and bolted,’ said his companion. ‘What fools you two are,’ said the third man, whose name was Bukhait and who was carrying the axe and lantern. ‘Don’t you know that the owners of gardens are in the habit of coming out of Baghdad to look after their property here, and if they are still here in the evening, they come in and shut the door, for fear of being caught, roasted and eaten by black men like us?’ ‘You’re right,’ said the others, ‘but by God, neither of us is feebler-witted than you.’ ‘You won’t believe me,’ Bukhait said, ‘until we go into the tomb and find someone there. I think that when they saw the light and caught sight of us, they would have tried to escape up the palm tree for fear of us.’

  When Ghanim heard this, he said to himself: ‘You doubly damned black slave. May God give you no shelter, you with your cleverness and all this knowledge of yours. There is no might and no power except in the Exalted and Omnipotent God. What can I do now to save myself from these slaves?’ The two who were carrying the box then said to the man with the axe: ‘Bukhait, do you climb the wall and open the door, for we’re tired from carrying this chest over our shoulders. When you open up for us, bring us one of the people inside and we’ll roast him for you so skilfully that no drop of his fat will be wasted.’ Bukhait replied: ‘Because of my silliness, I’m afraid of something I’ve thought of, and I think the best thing to do is to throw in the chest behind the door, for it holds our treasure.’ The other two said: ‘It’ll break if we throw it.’ ‘What I’m afraid of,’ said Bukhait, ‘is that there may be robbers in the graveyard, the kind who kill people and steal things. In the evening, they go into places like this and divide up their booty.’ ‘You stupid fellow,’ said the two with the chest, ‘how can they get in here?’ They then lifted up the chest, climbed the wall and got down and opened the door. Bukhait, the third slave, was waiting for them with the lantern, the axe and a basket containing some watermelons. They then bolted the door and sat down.

  ‘Brothers,’ said one of them, ‘we are tired out by walking, picking up the chest, putting it down, and then opening and shutting the door. It’s now midnight and we have no energy left for opening up the tomb and burying the chest. Rather, let us rest for three hours and then get up and do our business. Meanwhile, let each of us tell the story of why he was castrated and what happened to him from beginning to end. This will help pass the night and we can relax.’ The first of them, Bukhait, the man who had carried the lantern, then said: ‘I’ll tell you my story.’ ‘Go on,’ they said, AND HE BEGAN:

  You must know, brothers, that when I was small a slave dealer brought me from my own country – I was five years old at the time – and I was bought by a sergeant. He had a three-year-old daughter with whom I was brought up, and people would laugh at me as I played with her and danced and sang for her. This went on until I was twelve years old and she was ten, and they still did not keep me away from her.

  One day, I went in to see her and found her sitting by herself, looking as though she had just come from the bath that they had in the house, for she smelt of perfume and incense and her face was like the rounded moon on the fourteenth night. She started to play with me and I with her. I had just reached puberty and my penis stood up like a large key. She pushed me on to the floor where I lay on my back as she sat on my chest, and she started to sprawl on top of me until my penis was uncovered. When she saw it, rampant as it was, she took it in her hand and started rubbing it again
st the lips of her vagina on the outside of her clothes. I became heated with lust and so I clasped her in my arms, while she laced her hands together behind my neck and then started squeezing me as hard as she could. Before I knew what was happening, my penis had pierced her dress, entered her vagina and deflowered her.

  When I saw that, I ran off to one of my friends. The girl’s mother then came into her room, and when she saw the state her daughter was in, she almost went out of her mind, but then she put things to rights and concealed the girl’s condition from her father. She waited for two months, during which time the members of the household were calling to me and showing kindness to me, until they got me to come out of the place where I’d been hiding. Nobody told the girl’s father anything of this because they were fond of me. Her mother then arranged to marry the girl off to a young barber who used to shave her father, providing the dowry from her own funds. She made all the bridal preparations without the father knowing of his daughter’s condition, and great efforts were made to deck her out. It was then that I was taken unawares and castrated. When they brought the bride to her bridegroom, they concealed the loss of her virginity by killing a young pigeon in order to show blood on her shift. I was made her eunuch and wherever she went, I walked before her, whether this was to the baths or to her father’s house. I stayed in that position for a long time – enjoying her beauty and grace, kissing, embracing and sleeping with her – until she died, together with her husband and both her parents. I was then taken as the property of the state treasury, and eventually I came here and became your companion. This, my brothers, is the reason for my castration. That is all.

  The second slave, Kafur, then said: ‘Know, my brothers, that at the start of my career, when I was an eight-year-old boy, I used to tell the slave dealers one lie each year, to get them to quarrel with one another.’ HE WENT ON:

  My owner lost patience with me and handed me over to the auctioneer, telling him to call out: ‘Who will buy this slave in spite of his defect?’ When he was asked: ‘What is this defect?’ he replied: ‘Every year he tells one lie.’ A merchant approached the auctioneer and asked: ‘What is his price, blemish and all?’ ‘Six hundred dirhams,’ said the auctioneer. ‘I’ll give you another twenty, as your profit,’ the man promised. The auctioneer then brought the merchant to meet the slave dealer and got the money from him. He fetched me to the man’s house, took his commission and went off. The merchant gave me suitable clothes to wear and I served him for the rest of the year.

  The new year began auspiciously; it was one of blessings and fertility. Every day, the merchants held a banquet, which was provided by each of them in turn. When it came to my master’s turn, the banquet was to be held in a garden outside the city. My master went there with the other merchants, and he brought them all the food and the other things that they might need. They sat eating, drinking and carousing until noon. Then my master needed something from the house, and so he told me to get on the mule, go back home and fetch it from my mistress, before hurrying back. I did as I was told and set off home, but when I was near the house, I let out a cry and started to weep. The people of the district, old and young, gathered round, and when my master’s wife and her children heard my voice, they opened the door for me and asked me what had happened. I said: ‘My master was sitting with his companions under an old wall and it collapsed on them. As soon as I saw what had happened to them, I got on the mule and came as fast as I could to tell you.’

  When my master’s daughters and his wife heard that, they shrieked, tore their clothes and struck their faces. The neighbours came, but my mistress turned the furniture of the house upside down, smashed the shelves, broke the windows and the lattices, and smeared the walls with mud and indigo. ‘Come and help me, Kafur, damn you,’ she cried. ‘Smash the cupboards and break these vases and the china and everything else.’ So I went to her and with her I smashed the shelves in the house with everything that stood on them. Then I went round the roof terraces and everywhere else, destroying things. All the china and anything else in the house I smashed, calling out: ‘Alas for my master!’

  Then my mistress went out with her face uncovered, wearing only a shawl around her head, and with her went the children, girls and boys. ‘Go ahead of us, Kafur,’ they said, ‘and show us where your master lies dead under the wall, so that we can bring him out from the rubble and carry him on a bier. Then we shall take him back to the house and give him a fine funeral.’ I walked in front of them, crying out: ‘Alas for my master!’ while the rest of them followed behind, with their faces and heads uncovered, shouting: ‘Alas, alas for the poor man!’ There was no one in the quarter, man, woman, young or old, who did not come with us, all of them joining us and striking themselves in a frenzy of weeping. As I took them through the city, people asked what had happened, and the others told them what they had heard from me. Some people said: ‘There is no might and no power except with God,’ while others said: ‘He was a man of importance. We must go to the wali and tell him.’

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

  I have heard, O auspicious king, that when they went and told the wali, he rose, mounted and took with him workmen with shovels and baskets. KAFUR WENT ON:

  They went off after me, accompanied by a large crowd. I was walking in front, slapping my face and crying out, while behind me walked my mistress and her children screaming. I then ran on ahead of them, crying out, pouring dust on my head and striking my face. When I went into the garden, my master saw me striking myself, while I now cried out: ‘Alas for my mistress, woe, woe, woe! Who will now pity me, now that my mistress is gone? Would that I could have been her ransom!’ On seeing me, my master was startled and turned pale. ‘What’s wrong with you, Kafur?’ he said. ‘What’s the news?’ ‘When you sent me to the house,’ I told him, ‘I went in and saw that the wall of the hall had fallen on my mistress and her children.’ ‘Didn’t your mistress escape?’ he asked me. ‘No, by God, master,’ I told him. ‘Not one of them escaped and the first to die was my lady, your eldest daughter.’ ‘Did my youngest daughter escape?’ ‘No,’ I said. ‘And what about my riding mule? Was it saved?’ ‘No, by God, master,’ I said, ‘for the house walls and the stable walls collapsed, burying everything there, even the sheep, the ducks and the hens. They have all become one pile of flesh. The dogs ate them and not one of them is left.’ ‘Is my eldest son, your master, safe?’ he asked. ‘No, by God,’ I said, ‘no one survived, and now there is no house, no inhabitants and no trace of them, while the sheep, the geese and the hens have been eaten by cats and dogs.’

  When my master heard what I said, the light turned to darkness for him. He was unable to control himself and was out of his mind, unable to stand. His legs seemed crippled and his back broken. He tore his clothes, plucked his beard and threw off his turban from his head, while he went on beating his face until the blood flowed. ‘Alas for my children!’ he cried out. ‘Alas for my wife! Alas for my misfortune! Who has ever suffered a disaster like this?’ His cries were echoed by his companions, the merchants, who wept with him, lamented his fate and tore their clothes. My master then left the garden, still striking himself because of the violence of his grief, and so hard were the blows on his face that he was like a drunken man.

  While he and the other merchants were going out of the garden gate, they saw a great cloud of dust and heard cries and wailing. They looked at the people coming towards them, and saw the wali with his officers, the townspeople and a crowd of spectators. Behind them came the merchant’s family, calling out and shrieking amidst storms of tears. The first to meet my master was his wife, together with his children. When he saw them he was astonished; he laughed hysterically and stood stock still. Then he said: ‘How are you? What happened to the house? And what happened to you?’ When they saw him, they said: ‘Praise be to God that you are safe!’ They threw themselves on him; the children clung to
him, crying out: ‘Daddy, praise to God that you are safe.’ His wife said: ‘Are you all right? Praise be to God, Who has preserved you and shown me your face!’

  She was astonished and almost out of her mind at seeing him, and she asked him: ‘How did you come to survive, you and your companions, the merchants?’ ‘But what happened to you in the house?’ he asked. ‘We were fine and well,’ she said, ‘and there was nothing wrong with the house. Your slave, Kafur, came to us, bare-headed and with torn clothes, crying out: “Alas for the master, alas for the master!” When we asked him what was wrong, he told us that you and your companions had all been killed when a wall fell on you in the garden.’ ‘By God,’ said my master, ‘Kafur has just come to me calling out: “Alas for my mistress, alas for the children!” and telling me that you and the children were all dead!’

  Then he looked towards me and saw me with a torn turban on my head, crying out, weeping violently and pouring dust on my head. He shouted at me, and when I went up to him, he said: ‘Damn you, you ill-omened slave, you son of a whore coming from an accursed race, what is all this you have done? By God, I will flay the skin from your flesh and cut the flesh from your bones.’ ‘By God,’ I told him, ‘you can’t do anything to me because you bought me, fault and all. This was the condition and there are witnesses to testify that you bought me in spite of my fault. You know about it – the fact that I tell one lie each year. This is half a lie, and when the year is up, I shall tell the other half and it will be one full lie.’ ‘Dog, son of a dog,’ he shouted, ‘you damnedest of slaves, is all this just half a lie? Rather, it is an enormous calamity. Leave me at once. I free you in the Name of God.’ ‘By God,’ I said, ‘even if you free me, I can’t free you until the year is up and I have told my other half lie. When I have completed it, you can take me to the market and sell me for what you bought me, defect and all. You are not to free me, as I have no craft by which I could earn my living. This point is found in shari‘a law and is mentioned by lawyers in their discussion of the emancipation of slaves.’