‘When the caliph hears this, he will weep, finding the loss hard to bear, and he will have the Quran recited for her and keep vigil by her grave. If he says to himself: “My cousin Zubaida must have contrived to kill Qut al-Qulub out of jealousy,” or if he is overcome by passionate love and orders her to be exhumed, you need have no fears. When the workmen dig up the grave and come upon what looks like a human form, the caliph will see that it is wrapped in splendid grave clothes. If he wants to remove these in order to look at her, you must stop him or let some other woman do that, saying: “It is forbidden to look at her nakedness.” He will then believe that she really is dead and will put her back in the grave, thanking you for what you have done. In this way, if God Almighty wills it, you will escape from your predicament.’
When Lady Zubaida heard what the old woman had to say, she thought that the advice was good. She gave her a robe of honour, together with a large sum of money, and told her to see that this was done. The old woman set to work at once. She asked the carpenter to make a figure, as described, and when this was done, she brought it to Lady Zubaida, who provided it with grave clothes and buried it. She then had candles and lamps lit and spread out carpets around the grave. She herself wore black and she ordered the slave girls to do the same, as word spread in the palace that Qut al-Qulub was dead.
After a while, the caliph returned from his journey and went to the palace, his only concern being for Qut al-Qulub; there he saw the servants, eunuchs and slave girls wearing black. With a quaking heart he went to Lady Zubaida and found that she too was in black. When he asked about this, he was told that Qut al-Qulub had died. He fell down in a faint and when he recovered, he asked where she was buried. ‘Know, Commander of the Faithful,’ said Lady Zubaida, ‘that, because of my high regard for her, I had her buried in the palace.’ The caliph, still wearing his travelling clothes, went in to visit the grave, and he found the carpets laid down and the candles and lamps lit. When he saw this, he thanked Zubaida for what she had done, but he remained perplexed, neither believing nor refusing to believe. Eventually, overcome by suspicion, he ordered the grave to be opened and the corpse to be exhumed. When he saw the shroud, he wanted it to be removed so that he might look at Qut al-Qulub, but he was afraid of the anger of Almighty God, and the old woman said: ‘Put her back in her grave.’ He then immediately ordered the faqihs and Quran reciters to be brought, and he had the Quran recited over her grave, while he sat beside it weeping until he fainted. He continued to sit there for a whole month.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the forty-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O auspicious king, that the caliph kept visiting the grave for a month. It then happened one day, after the emirs and viziers had gone home, that he visited the harem, where he fell asleep for a time. At his head a slave girl sat fanning him, while another sat massaging his feet. After his sleep, he woke up and opened his eyes, but closed them again as he heard the girl at his head say to the other at his feet: ‘Khaizaran.’ ‘Yes, Qudib al-Ban,’ replied the other. ‘Our master doesn’t know what happened,’ said Qudib al-Ban. ‘He keeps vigil over a grave that contains nothing but a piece of wood carved by a carpenter.’ ‘What happened to Qut al-Qulub?’ asked the other. Her companion told her: ‘Lady Zubaida sent a slave girl to drug her with a banj pill, and after that, Lady Zubaida had her put in a chest and sent her off with Sawab and Kafur, telling them to throw her out in a graveyard.’ Khaizaran said: ‘Isn’t Qut al-Qulub dead then?’ ‘No, by God,’ replied the other, ‘and may a young girl like her be preserved from death! I have heard Lady Zubaida saying that she is with a young merchant, Ghanim ibn Ayyub of Damascus. She has now been there with him for four months, and here is our master weeping and keeping vigil at night by a tomb in which there is no corpse.’
The two girls went on talking like this while the caliph listened. By the time that they had finished, he knew all about the affair – that the tomb was a fake and that Qut al-Qulub had been with Ghanim for four months. In a violent rage he got up and went to see his officers of state. Ja‘far the Barmecide came forward and kissed the ground before him. ‘Go down with a group of men,’ the caliph told him angrily, ‘find out where the house of Ghanim ibn Ayyub may be, break in and bring me my slave girl, Qut al-Qulub. As for Ghanim, I must punish him.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied Ja‘far, and he set off, accompanied by a large crowd, including the wali.
When they got to Ghanim’s house, he had come back with some meat and he and Qut al-Qulub were just about to eat it, when she happened to look round and saw that disaster had overtaken them and that the house was surrounded on all sides. There was Ja‘far, the wali, the guards and the mamluks with drawn swords encircling the place as the white of the eye surrounds its pupil. She knew at once that word of her presence must have reached her master, the caliph. Certain that this meant death, she turned pale and her beauty faded. She looked at Ghanim and said: ‘My darling, save yourself.’ ‘What am I to do,’ he said, ‘and where can I go? All my means of livelihood are here in this house.’ She insisted: ‘Don’t waste time or you will die, and all your wealth will be lost.’ ‘Darling and light of my eyes,’ he asked, ‘how can I manage to get out of the house, now that it is surrounded?’ ‘Have no fear,’ she replied, at which she stripped him of his clothes and dressed him in old rags. Then she fetched the pot that contained the meat, added some broken pieces of bread round it, together with a bowl of food, and putting this all in a basket she set it on his head. ‘Trick your way out with this,’ she said, ‘and don’t worry about me, for I know how to deal with the caliph.’
Following her advice, Ghanim went out through the middle of Ja‘far’s men, carrying his basket with its contents, and, as God the Shelterer sheltered him, he escaped from the evils that were plotted against him by virtue of his innocence. When Ja‘far got near the house, he dismounted from his horse and, on entering, he found Qut al-Qulub dressed in all her finery. She had filled a chest with gold, jewellery, gems and such treasures as were light to carry but of great value. She rose to her feet when Ja‘far came and kissed the ground before him. ‘Master,’ she said, ‘God’s decrees have been written down since past eternity.’ When Ja‘far saw all this, he said: ‘By God, lady, my orders are only to arrest Ghanim ibn Ayyub.’ ‘He picked up some merchandise,’ she said, ‘and left with it for Damascus. That is all that I know about him, but I would like you to look after this chest for me and bring it up to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ he replied, after which he took the chest and gave orders that it should be carried up, while Qut al-Qulub herself went with the escort to the caliph’s palace, being treated with honour and respect. This was after Ja‘far’s men had plundered Ghanim’s house, before setting off to the caliph.
Ja‘far told the caliph all that had happened, and on his orders Qut al-Qulub was given a dark room in which to live, with an old woman to see to her needs, because he believed that Ghanim must have seduced her and slept with her. He wrote instructions to Muhammad ibn Sulaiman al-Zaini, his deputy in Damascus, instructing him that, as soon as the order came, he was to arrest Ghanim ibn Ayyub and send him to Baghdad. When this order did arrive, Muhammad kissed it and placed it on his head. He then had a proclamation made in the markets that whoever wanted plunder should go to the house of Ghanim ibn Ayyub. When the crowd got there, they found Ghanim’s mother and his sister sitting weeping by a tomb that they had had made for him in the middle of the house. The two of them were arrested and the house was plundered, without their knowing what the matter was. They were brought before the sultan, who asked them about Ghanim, but they said that for a year or more they had heard no word of him. They were then sent back home.
So much for them, but as for Ghanim, when he had lost all his riches and saw the state that he was in, he wept for himself until his heart almost broke. He went on his way, wandering until the end of the day with
ever-increasing hunger, tired out with walking. On coming to a town, he entered it and went to a mosque, where he sat on a mat, leaning his back on the mosque wall until he collapsed on the ground through hunger and fatigue. He stayed there until morning, his heart palpitating with hunger, while lice, attracted by the sweat, crawled over his body. His breath stank and his appearance was quite changed. When the townsfolk came for the morning prayer, they found him stretched out there, weak and emaciated by hunger, but with signs of his previous prosperity still visible. After they had finished the prayer, they went up to him and, finding him cold and hungry, they gave him an old coat with ragged sleeves and asked: ‘Where are you from, stranger, and what is the reason for your weakness?’ He opened his eyes to look at them, and wept but made no reply. One of them, seeing that he was starving, went off and brought him a bowl of honey and two loaves of bread. He ate a little and the people stayed with him until the sun was up, when they left to go about their own business.
Things went on like this for a month, during which he grew weaker and more ill. The townsfolk wept out of sympathy for him and consulted one another about his affair, agreeing at last to take him to the hospital of Baghdad. While he was in this state, two beggar women arrived, and these turned out to be his mother and his sister. When he saw them, he gave them the bread that was placed by his head, and they slept there with him that night, although he did not recognize them. The next day, the people came with a camel and they told the camel driver to take the sick man on its back, bring him to Baghdad and leave him at the door of the hospital, in the hope that he might be cured. The camel man would then be rewarded. ‘To hear is to obey,’ the man said, so they then brought Ghanim out of the mosque and placed him on the camel, together with the mat on which he was sleeping.
Among those who were looking on were his mother and his sister, who had not recognized him. They now looked more closely and said: ‘This looks like our Ghanim. Do you suppose that he is this sick man or not?’ Ghanim himself did not wake up until he found himself tied on by a rope to the back of the camel. He wept and complained and the townspeople saw the two women, his mother and sister, weeping for him, although they had not recognized him. The two of them set off and made the journey to Baghdad, while the camel driver set Ghanim down at the hospital door, before taking his camel and leaving.
Ghanim slept until morning and when people started to move to and fro along the road, they looked at him. There he lay, thin as a tooth-pick, with a crowd staring at him, when the superintendent of the market came up and sent them on their way. He then said to himself: ‘This poor fellow will get me entrance to Paradise, for if they take him into the hospital, they will kill him off in a single day.’ He ordered his servants to carry Ghanim to his house, where he spread out fresh bedding and gave him a new pillow, telling his wife to look after him well. She willingly agreed and, rolling up her sleeves, she heated water and washed his hands, feet and body. She then dressed him in a gown belonging to one of her slave girls and gave him a glass of wine to drink, in which rosewater had been sprinkled. He recovered his senses but then began to utter mournful complaints, and as he thought of his beloved Qut al-Qulub, his sorrows increased.
So much for him, but as for Qut al-Qulub, the caliph was angry with her…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the forty-third night, she continued:
I have heard, O auspicious king, that the caliph was angry with Qut al-Qulub and had placed her in a dark room. Things stayed like this for eighty days, but then one day, as he happened to be passing by, he heard Qut al-Qulub reciting poetry. When she had finished, she said: ‘Ghanim, my darling, how good you are and how chaste! You did good to one who wronged you; you preserved the honour of one who dishonoured you; you guarded his womenfolk, while he took you and your family as prisoners. There must come a time when you and the Commander of the Faithful will stand before a Righteous Ruler. You will demand justice against him on a day when the judge will be the Lord God, Great and Glorious, and the witnesses will be the angels.’ When the caliph heard this and understood the nature of her complaint, he realized that she had been wronged.
He went back to his quarters and sent Masrur, the eunuch, to fetch her. When she came before him, she lowered her head, tearful and sad at heart. ‘Qut al-Qulub,’ he said, ‘I find that you claim to have been wronged by me and you accuse me of injustice. You claim that I have harmed one who has done good to me. Who is this who has preserved my honour, while I have dishonoured him, and has guarded my women-folk, while I have imprisoned his?’ ‘He is Ghanim ibn Ayyub,’ she replied. ‘He never led me to commit any shameful or foul act. I swear this by your grace, Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘There is no might and no power except with God,’ exclaimed the caliph, and he promised to grant Qut al-Qulub whatever she wished. ‘I wish you to grant me my beloved, Ghanim ibn Ayyub,’ she replied, and the caliph agreed. ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ she said, ‘bring him here and give him to me.’ ‘If he comes,’ he replied, ‘I will present you to him as a gift from one who does not take back what he has given.’ ‘Give me permission, Commander of the Faithful,’ she said, ‘to go round looking for him, for it may be that God will unite me with him.’ He allowed her to do this, and she left joyfully, taking with her a thousand gold dinars.
She visited the shaikhs, giving alms in Ghanim’s name, and on the next day she went to the traders’ market. Here she gave the superintendent money which she told him to distribute as alms to any strangers. On the following Friday, she went back, bringing with her the thousand dinars. She came to the market of the goldsmiths and jewellers and called for the superintendent, to whom she gave the money, telling him to give it as alms to strangers. The superintendent, who was the senior merchant of the market, looked at her and said: ‘Lady, would you care to come to my house to see a young stranger, one of the most graceful and perfectly formed of men?’ This stranger was none other than Ghanim ibn Ayyub, the slave of love, the man bereft of his wits, but the superintendent did not know this and took him for a poor debtor who had been stripped of his goods, or a lover parted from his beloved. When Qut al-Qulub heard what he said, her heart beat faster and she suffered inner disquiet. She asked the superintendent to send someone with her to take her to his house. He provided a young boy, who brought her to where the superintendent’s ‘stranger’ was. She thanked him, went in and greeted the superintendent’s wife. She, in her turn, got up and, recognizing Qut al-Qulub, she kissed the ground before her. ‘Where is the sick man you have with you?’ asked Qut al-Qulub. The woman wept and said: ‘Here he is, lady. By God, he must come from a good family, and he shows signs of earlier prosperity. There he is on the bed.’
Qut al-Qulub turned and looked at him. She saw that he was like Ghanim, but he was so wasted and emaciated that he was like a toothpick and therefore unrecognizable. She could not be sure that he was, in fact, Ghanim, but she pitied him nonetheless and shed tears, exclaiming: ‘Strangers are wretched, even if in their own country they are emirs!’ Even though she did not recognize him, she felt concern for him and in her sadness of heart she arranged for him to be provided with wine and with medicines. She then sat for a time by his head, after which she rode back to the palace and set about visiting every market in search of Ghanim.
Later, the superintendent brought her Ghanim’s mother and his sister, and said to her: ‘Mistress of the benefactors, today this woman and her daughter have come to our city. They have beautiful faces and they show signs of having previously been prosperous and fortunate, but each of them is wearing a hair shirt, with a food bag around her neck. Their eyes are tearful and their hearts are sad, so I have brought them to you for shelter so that you may save them from beggary, as they are unsuited to a beggar’s life. If God wills it, they may be our passport to Paradise.’ ‘By God, sir,’ she said, ‘you have made me want to help them. Where are they? Bring them to me.’
The superintendent told
his eunuch to bring the two women to Qut al-Qulub. So Ghanim’s sister Fitna entered with her mother, and when Qut al-Qulub saw how beautiful they were, she wept for them and said: ‘By God, these have come from a prosperous family and they show signs of having been wealthy.’ ‘Lady,’ said the superintendent’s wife, ‘we love the poor and needy because of the heavenly reward promised us. It may be that these were attacked by evil-doers who robbed them of their wealth and destroyed their house.’ Meanwhile, mother and daughter shed bitter tears, thinking of the prosperity that they had enjoyed and the sorrowful poverty to which they had been reduced, and then their thoughts turned to Ghanim. Qut al-Qulub shed tears to match theirs, and heard them pray God to unite them with the one whom they were seeking: ‘our Ghanim’.
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 41