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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  When ‘Umar heard what his vizier had to say, it pleased him and he decided that this was the right course to follow. He gave Dandan a robe of honour and said: ‘You are the kind of man whose advice should be sought by kings. You must go with the advance guard, while my son Sharkan follows with the rear guard.’ He then ordered Sharkan to be brought to him and he, on his arrival, kissed the ground in front of his father and took his seat. ‘Umar then told him what had happened, what the envoys had said and what the vizier Dandan had recommended. He ordered him to collect his equipment and to prepare for a campaign, adding that whatever he did, he was not to act against Dandan’s advice. He was told to pick from his army ten thousand riders, fully armed and capable of enduring the hardships of war.

  Sharkan obeyed his father’s instructions and, rising immediately, he selected his ten thousand. He then returned to his palace, reviewed his troops, provided them with money and ordered them to be ready in three days. Obediently, they kissed the ground in front of him, before leaving to collect their battle gear and put their affairs in order. Sharkan then went to the armoury, from which he took all the equipment and weapons that he needed, before visiting the stable to make his choice from among the best horses.

  After three days, the army moved out of Baghdad and King ‘Umar came to say goodbye to his son, who kissed the ground before him and was given seven chests of money. Next, Dandan was visited by ‘Umar and instructed to take care of Sharkan’s army, and he too kissed the ground and replied: ‘To hear is to obey.’ ‘Umar then returned to Sharkan and told him to consult Dandan on everything, to which he agreed. After this, ‘Umar re-entered the city and Sharkan ordered the officers to parade the troops for inspection, which they did, the total coming to ten thousand, not counting the camp followers. The baggage was loaded, drums were beaten, trumpets blared, banners and flags were unfurled, and Prince Sharkan rode out, with Dandan at his side, banners fluttering over their heads.

  They continued on their way, preceded by the Byzantine envoys, until the day drew to a close and night fell. They then dismounted to rest for the night, remounting and moving out the following morning. They continued to press on with their march, guided by the envoys, for twenty days. On the twenty-first, they looked down into a wide valley, well wooded, fertile and extensive. As it was night when they arrived, Sharkan ordered them to dismount and to stay there for three days, and after dismounting, the soldiers pitched camp before dispersing right and left. Dandan and the Byzantine envoys stayed in the middle of the valley, while Sharkan waited behind for a time until they had all dismounted and were scattered throughout the valley. He then rode off with a loose rein to reconnoitre, taking the guard duties on himself, because of the instructions given him by his father, for the army was now on the edge of Byzantine territory and this was hostile land.

  He set off alone, after ordering his mamluks and his personal guard to pitch camp with Dandan. His path took him along the side of the valley until a quarter of the night had passed, by which time he was tired and so overcome by sleep that he was unable to control his horse. He was in the habit of sleeping while on horseback, and so when he felt sleepy and then dozed off, the horse continued on its way until midnight, when it entered a thicket of trees. Sharkan only woke as it stamped its hoof on the ground, and on being roused he found himself among trees, with the whole sky illumined by moonlight. He was taken aback and exclaimed: ‘There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent!’ – words which never bring shame on those who use them. While he was in this state, fearful of wild beasts, he saw in the moonlight, spread out before him, a meadow like one of the fields of Paradise, from which there came the sound of pleasant speech, loud voices and laughter of the sort that would captivate a man’s mind. He dismounted and, after tying his horse to a tree, he walked on until he came upon a stream. He heard a woman speaking in Arabic and saying: ‘By the truth of the Messiah, this is not good on your part. If anyone says anything at all, I shall throw her down and tie her up with her own girdle.’

  While this was happening, Sharkan was walking in the direction of the voices, until he reached the edge of the meadow. He could see the stream, with birds singing gaily, gazelles roaming freely and wild beasts pasturing. Pleasure was expressed in the varied songs of the birds and the place was abloom with plants of all kinds, as a poet has described in these lines:

  The beauty of the land lies in its flowers,

  And the water that flows freely over it,

  Created by the power of the Almighty God,

  The Giver of gifts, Generous to the generous.

  When Sharkan looked at the place, he saw a convent within whose bounds was a castle that towered in the moonlight. Through the grounds a stream flowed into the meadow, and there, by the stream, was a lady in front of whom stood ten girls like moons, wearing ornaments and robes of all kinds such as dazzled the eyes. All of them were virgins, as the poet describes:

  The meadow gleams with beautiful white girls.

  Beauty and grace are added by their unique attributes –

  All fascinating virgins, flirtatious coquettes,

  Their hair loose flowing like grapes on a trellis.

  Their eyes enchant; their glances dart as arrows.

  Swaying as they walk, they slaughter valiant heroes.

  When he looked, Sharkan saw among them a girl like the full moon, with curling hair, a clear forehead, large black eyes and a curving forelock. She was perfect in all her delightful qualities, fitting the description of the poet:

  She is lovely to me with her wonderful gaze;

  Her figure puts to shame Samhari spears.

  Her cheeks, as I look at them, are rosy red,

  And she is mistress of all the charms of grace.

  It is as though the hair above her face

  Is night surmounting the dawn of delights.

  Sharkan heard her say to the girls: ‘Come here so that I can wrestle with you before the moon goes down and the day breaks.’ Each of them went to challenge her, but she immediately forced each girl to the ground and tied her up with her girdle, before turning to the old woman who was there with her. This woman asked her angrily: ‘Harlot, are you pleased to have got the better of these girls? Here am I, an old woman, but I have wrestled them down forty times, so how is it that you are so pleased with yourself? If you have strength enough to wrestle with me, then come here so that I may set about you and put your head between your legs.’ The girl made a show of smiling, but inwardly she was furious. She went to the old woman and said: ‘By the truth of the Messiah, do you really mean to wrestle with me, Dhat al-Dawahi, or are you joking?’ ‘Yes, I am serious,’ replied the other.

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

  I have heard, O auspicious king, that the girl said to the old woman: ‘By the truth of the Messiah, do you really mean to wrestle with me, Dhat al-Dawahi, or are you joking?’ ‘I will certainly wrestle with you,’ came the reply. As Sharkan was watching, the girl said to the old woman: ‘Then come and do it, if you have the strength.’ At this, the old woman became furiously angry and all the hairs on her body stood out like the prickles of a hedgehog. She jumped forward and, as the girl rose to meet her, the old woman said: ‘By the truth of the Messiah, harlot, I shall only wrestle against you naked.’ She took a silk kerchief, unloosed her drawers and then, grasping her clothes with both hands, she stripped them from her body. She then picked up the kerchief and tied it round her waist until she looked like a hairless ‘ifrit or a spotted snake. Turning to the girl, she told her to do the same.

  Sharkan was watching all this and laughing as he looked at the misshapen form of the old woman. When her opponent had stripped, the girl in a leisurely way took a Yemeni towel and twisted it twice round herself. She tucked up her harem trousers, revealing two thighs of marble, surmounted by a crystal sand hill, soft and plump, a belly from whose
folds wafted the scent of musk, looking as though it was covered with anemones, and a chest with two breasts like a pair of luxuriant pomegranates. The old woman leaned towards her and the two of them grappled, while Sharkan gazed up to heaven and prayed to God that the girl would get the better of the old woman. The girl, meanwhile, got under her, put her left hand on her girdle, with her right around the old woman’s windpipe, and then lifted her up with both hands. The old woman slipped out of her grip, but in trying to get free, she fell over with her legs in the air, showing her pubic hair in the moonlight. She farted twice, the first fart scattering the dust on the ground and the second raising a stench to heaven.

  Sharkan laughed so much that he fell over, but then he got up and drew his sword, looking to right and left. He saw nobody except the old woman lying on her back and he said to himself: ‘Whoever called you Dhat al-Dawahi* did not lie; you should have known the girl’s strength by what she did to the others.’ He then went nearer to the two opponents to listen to what they were saying. The girl came up and threw an elegant silk wrap over the old woman, clothed her, and excused herself for what she had done, saying: ‘I only meant to throw you, lady; nothing that happened to you was intended, but you slipped out of my hands. God be thanked that you are unhurt.’ The old woman made no reply, but got up and walked off shamefacedly until she was out of sight. The others were still tied up on the ground and the girl was left standing alone.

  ‘Every piece of good fortune has its cause,’ said Sharkan to himself. ‘It was thanks to my good luck that I fell asleep and that my horse brought me here, and it may be that this girl and her companions will be my booty.’ He went to his horse, mounted it and touched its sides with his spurs. It shot off with him like an arrow from a bow and, after unsheathing his sword, he shouted: ‘Allahu akbar!’ When the girl saw him, she got up to stand on the bank of the stream, which was six cubits wide, and she then jumped across and took up her stance on the other side. She called in a loud voice: ‘Who are you, fellow? You have interrupted our pleasures and have brandished your sword as though you were charging against an army. Where do you come from and where are you going? Don’t try to lie, for lying is one of the qualities of base men, but tell the truth, for this will do you more good. No doubt you have lost your way in the night and that is why you have come to a place where the most you can hope for is to escape unscathed. You are now in a meadow where, were I to give a single cry, four thousand knights would come to my aid. Tell me what you want. If you need to be directed to your road, I shall guide you and if you want help, I shall help you.’

  When Sharkan heard what she said, he replied: ‘I am a Muslim stranger and I came here alone tonight looking for plunder. I have found no better booty in this moonlight than these ten girls and I shall take them and bring them to my companions.’ ‘You have found no booty at all,’ the other replied, ‘for, by God, these girls are no prey of yours. Didn’t I tell you that it is a disgrace to lie?’ ‘The wise man,’ Sharkan told her, ‘is one who learns his lesson from others.’ ‘By the truth of the Messiah,’ she said, ‘were I not afraid that your blood would be on my hands, you would find to your cost that my shout would fill this meadow with horse and foot. But I have pity on strangers, and if it is booty you want, then dismount and swear to me by your religion that you will use no weapon against me. Then you and I can wrestle together, and if you throw me, then put me on your horse and take us all, but if I throw you, you will be at my command. Swear to that, as I am afraid of treachery on your part, for, as it is noted, treachery comes naturally, and to trust everyone is a sign of weakness. If you do swear, then I shall cross over the stream and come to meet you.’

  Sharkan was eager to capture her, and said to himself: ‘She doesn’t know that I am a champion.’ Out loud he called to her: ‘I shall take whatever oath you want and are prepared to trust, swearing that I will not move against you in any way until you are ready and tell me to come and wrestle. Then I shall come and if you throw me, I have enough money to ransom myself, while if I throw you, then I shall take great booty.’ ‘I am happy with that,’ replied the girl. Sharkan was taken aback, but said: ‘By the truth of the Prophet – may God bless him and give him peace! – so am I.’ She then said: ‘Swear by the One Who has set the breath of life in bodies and has given laws to mankind that, if you harm me in any way except by wrestling, you will die as one who has been excommunicated from Islam.’ ‘By God,’ said Sharkan, ‘were a qadi, or even the supreme qadi, to get me to swear, he would not try to make me take an oath like this,’ but he then did as she had said, after which he tied his horse to a tree.

  Drowning in an ocean of thought, he said to himself: ‘Praise be to God who has formed her from vile sperm.’* He then summoned up his strength and prepared himself for wrestling, before telling the girl to cross the stream. ‘I am not going to cross over to you,’ she said. ‘You must cross over to me.’ ‘I can’t do that,’ he replied, at which she tucked up her skirts and jumped over to him on the far bank. He then approached her, bent forward and clapped his hands. Dazzled by her beauty and grace, he saw a form tanned by the hand of divine power with leaves used for tanning by the jinn, and nurtured by the hand of providence, over which the breezes of happiness had breathed, and for whom a star of good fortune had acted as midwife.

  The girl came up to him and called: ‘Muslim, come on and wrestle before dawn breaks.’ With her sleeves tucked up, she showed a forearm glowing like fresh curds, casting radiance over the place. Sharkan, in a state of confusion, bent forward and clapped his hands, and she did the same. They gripped each other and grappled, holding and struggling. As Sharkan put his hand on her slender waist, his fingers sunk into the folds of her belly. His limbs relaxed and he discovered himself weakening, as he had found a place that induced languor. He started to shake like a Persian reed in a storm wind, at which the girl lifted him up, threw him to the ground and then sat on his chest, with buttocks like sand dunes, driving him out of his wits. ‘Muslim,’ she said, ‘you think that you are permitted to kill Christians, so what do you say about my killing you?’ ‘Mistress,’ he said, ‘when you talk about killing me, this is forbidden, for our Prophet Muhammad – may God bless him and give him peace! – forbade the killing of women, children, old men and monks.’ ‘If this is part of your Prophet’s revelation,’ she said, ‘we should return the favour. So get up, I grant you your life. No one loses by acting generously.’

  She got off his chest and he stood up, shaking the dust from his head, ashamed at having been beaten by a crooked-ribbed woman.* ‘Don’t be ashamed,’ she said, ‘but when a man enters the lands of Byzantium in search of booty and to help kings against kings, how is it that he cannot defend himself against a crooked-ribbed one?’ ‘This was not through lack of power on my part,’ he said, ‘nor did you throw me because of your own strength. Rather, it was your beauty that overcame me. Perhaps in your generosity you would favour me with another bout.’ She agreed, laughing, but said: ‘The girls have been tied up for a long while and their hands and arms will be getting tired. I must untie them, as it may be that the next bout with you will be a long one.’ She then went up to the girls and as she released them, she said to them in Greek: ‘Go off to a safe place, so that this Muslim may stop coveting you.’

  They went away, Sharkan staring after them, while they in turn were looking back at the wrestlers. The two approached each other and Sharkan set his belly against that of the girl. When she felt this, she lifted him up with her hands faster than a lightning flash and threw him to the ground. He fell on his back and she told him: ‘Get up, for I give you your life a second time. The first time I was generous to you because of your Prophet, as he did not allow the killing of women, and this second time is because of your own weakness, your youth and the fact that you are a stranger. If the Muslim army that ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man has sent to help the emperor of Constantinople has in it anyone stronger than you, I would advise you to send him to me and to tell him about me. There ar
e as many positions and holds in wrestling as can be imagined, such as the first grip, the grapple, the seizing of the legs, biting the thighs, cross-buttock throws and the leg lock.’

  Sharkan was even angrier with her and swore: ‘Even if the champions al-Safadi or Muhammad Qaimal or Ibn al-Saddi in his prime were here, I would pay no heed to the refinements you mentioned. By God, it was not by your strength that you threw me, but by the seduction of your buttocks. We Iraqis are fond of large thighs, and this robbed me of my wits and of my sight. But if you wish, you can wrestle with me again when I have my wits about me, and this will be the last bout for me, according to the rules of wrestling. My vigour has now returned to me.’ ‘Why do you want to try again, loser?’ she taunted. ‘But come on if you must, although I’m sure that this bout will be enough.’ So saying, she leaned forward, challenging him to wrestle, and he did the same, beginning to exert himself and taking care not to weaken. They grappled for a time and the girl found in him a strength that she had not met before. ‘You are taking care, Muslim,’ she said. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘for you know that this is our last bout and afterwards we shall go our own ways.’ She laughed, and he laughed back, but at that she forestalled him, taking him unawares and gripping him by the thigh. She then threw him to the ground so that he fell on his back. Laughing at him, she said: ‘Do you eat nothing but bran? You’re like a Bedouin’s cap that falls off at a single blow or a child’s toy blown away by the wind. What an unfortunate man you are! Go back to your Muslim army, and send someone else, for you are not capable of exertion. Proclaim among the Arabs, the Persians, the Turks and the Dailamis that if there is any strong man, he should come to me.’

  With this, she jumped over to the other side of the stream and said laughingly to Sharkan: ‘It is hard for me to part from you, master, but you should go back to your companions before dawn, lest the knights come and take you at lance point. As you don’t have the strength to defend yourself against women, how could you cope with them?’ Sharkan was at a loss, but after she had turned away from him on her way back to the convent, he exclaimed: ‘My lady, are you going to abandon me, the slave of love, the stranger, the wretched, the broken-hearted?’ She turned to him with a laugh and asked him what he wanted, adding: ‘For I shall grant your request.’ He replied: ‘How can I tread on your land and taste the sweets of your kindness and then go back without eating your food – and I have become one of your servants?’ ‘Only the mean refuse to act with generosity,’ she replied. ‘In the Name of God, please come and you will be very welcome. Mount your horse and ride along the bank opposite me, for you are my guest.’