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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  A reliable informant has said: ‘I came to ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, the Commander of the Faithful, when he was caliph, and I saw that in front of him were twelve dirhams. He ordered that these should be put in the treasury and I said: “Commander of the Faithful, you have impoverished your children and reduced them to penury and destitution. How would it be were you to make a will, leaving something to them and to the other members of your household who are poor?” He told me to come close to him, which I did, and he then said: “You have told me that I have impoverished my children and asked me to make a will in their favour and the favour of the other poor members of my household, but this is not right. God is my deputy with regard to both of these groups and He is a trustee for them. They fall into two classes – the God-fearing, who will receive their portion from God, and the inveterate sinners, whom I am not going to support in their disobedience to God.” He then sent for his family and had them brought before him – twelve sons in all. When he saw them, tears started from his eyes and he said: “Your father has two choices – either that you should be rich and he should enter hellfire, or that you should be poor and he should enter Paradise. He would prefer this latter than that you should be rich. Rise, then; may God protect you, for it is to Him that I have entrusted the matter.” ’

  Khalid ibn Safwan once said: ‘I went with ‘Umar’s son Yusuf to ‘Abd al-Malik’s son, Hisham, and when I reached him, he came out with his kinsmen and his servants and halted at a place where a tent had been pitched for him. When the people had taken their seats, I came out from where the carpet was spread and looked at him. When my eye caught his, I said: “May God complete his favour to you, Commander of the Faithful, and guide aright the affairs that He has entrusted to you, allowing no trouble to mix with your joy. I can find no more profound advice than the accounts of the kings who preceded you.” The caliph, who had been leaning back, sat up and told me to tell him what I had to say. I said: “Commander of the Faithful, an earlier king in an earlier age came here and asked his companions whether they had ever seen anyone to rival his splendour and whether anyone had ever made as generous gifts as he had done. With him was one of the bearers of proof, the supporters of truth, who walk in its path. ‘O king,’ this man said, ‘you have asked a question on an important matter. Will you allow me to reply to it?’ ‘Yes,’ said the king. ‘Do you think that the state in which you are is eternal or transient?’ the man asked. ‘It is transient,’ replied the king. ‘Why is it then that I see you taking pride in a state which you will enjoy briefly and be asked about for long, and for which you will be held to account?’ ‘How can I escape,’ asked the king, ‘and where can I find what I must look for?’ ‘If you remain king,’ replied the man, ‘then you must act in obedience to God. Otherwise, you should dress in rags and spend the rest of your life in His worship. At dawn I shall come to you.’ The man knocked on the king’s door at dawn and found that he had laid aside his crown and was prepared to live as a wandering ascetic because of the strength of the admonition.” At that, Hisham ibn ‘Abd al-Malik wept so much that his beard was soaked. He ordered that his robes should be removed and he stayed within his palace, while his freedmen and servants came to Khalid, complaining about what he had done to the Commander of the Faithful, ruining his pleasure and spoiling his life.’

  ‘How many good counsels are there in this topic,’ said Nuzhat al-Zaman to Sharkan. ‘I cannot produce all that is to be found here in one session…’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Nuzhat al-Zaman said to Sharkan: ‘How many good counsels are there in this topic. I cannot produce all that is to be found here in one session, but good will come of it if it is spread over a period of days.’ ‘O king,’ said the qadis, ‘this girl is the wonder of the age, unique in her time. Never at any time throughout our lives have we heard the like of this.’ They then called down blessings on the king and left.

  Sharkan turned to his servants and told them to start getting ready for the wedding and to prepare a banquet with foods of all kinds, which they did in obedience to his orders. He told the wives of the emirs, the viziers and the government officials not to leave until they had seen the unveiling of the bride and shared in the wedding feast. It was hardly time for the noon prayer before the tables were laid with delicious, eye-tempting food, roast meats, geese and chickens, of which the guests ate their fill. All the singing girls of Damascus had been ordered to attend, together with all the adult slave girls of the sultan who could sing. They all came to the palace and in the evening, when it grew dark, candles were lit on both sides of the road from the gate of the citadel to that of the palace.

  Then the emirs, viziers and grandees processed before Sultan Sharkan, while the singing girls and the tire-women took Nuzhat al-Zaman in order to dress and adorn her, although they saw that she needed no embellishment. Sharkan had gone to the baths, after which he took his seat on the dais. The bride was displayed to him in seven different dresses, after which the attendants relieved her of the weight of her clothes and gave her the advice that is given to girls on their wedding night. Sharkan then went in to her and deflowered her, at which she immediately conceived. He was delighted when she told him and he ordered the wise men to note down the date of conception. In the morning, when he took his seat on the throne, his officials came to congratulate him. He ordered his private secretary to write to his father ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man to tell him that he had bought a learned and cultured slave girl, a mistress of all branches of wisdom, whom he would have to send to Baghdad so that she could visit his brother Dau’ al-Makan and his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman. He had freed her, married her, lain with her, and she had conceived his child. He eulogized her intelligence and sent his greetings to his brother and sister and to the vizier Dandan, as well as to all the other emirs. He then sealed the letter and sent it off by courier to Baghdad.

  The courier was away for a whole month, after which he returned with an answer, which he handed to Sharkan. Sharkan took it and read it. After the invocation of God’s Name, the letter went on: ‘From King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man, the bewildered and distracted man who has lost his children and parted from his country, to his son, Sharkan: know that since you left me, I have found this place oppressive and have not been able to show endurance. I cannot keep my secret. Dau’ al-Makan asked me to allow him to go to the Hijaz, but I was afraid lest he might meet with some disaster and so I stopped him from going until the next year or the year after that. Then I went off hunting, and I was absent for a whole month…’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that King ‘Umar said in his letter that he had been away hunting for a full month. He went on: ‘When I got back, I found that your brother and sister had taken some money and gone off secretly with the pilgrims on the pilgrimage. When I learned that, I was distressed, but I waited for the pilgrims’ return in the hope that the two would come back with them. Then when the pilgrims arrived, I asked about my children, but no one could give me any news of them. So, grieved at heart, I put on mourning for them, unable to sleep and drowned in tears.’ He quoted the lines:

  Their image never leaves me for an instant;

  It holds the place of honour in my heart.

  Did I not hope for their return, I would not stay alive;

  Were it not for visions of them in my dreams, I would not sleep.

  He then added in his letter: ‘After sending you and your companions my greetings, I instruct you to spare no efforts in finding news of your brother and sister, for this brings shame on us.’

  When Sharkan read the letter, he was sorry for his father but pleased to hear that his siblings were missing, and he took the letter to his wife, Nuzhat al-Zaman, whom he did not know to be his siste
r, while she in turn did not know that he was her brother. He kept coming back to her night and day, until the months of her pregnancy were ended and she sat on the birthing stool. God allowed her an easy labour and she gave birth to a girl. She then sent for Sharkan and when she saw him, she said: ‘This is your daughter, so give her whatever name you choose.’ ‘It is the general custom,’ he replied, ‘to name children seven days after their birth.’ Then, as he bent over the baby and kissed her, he saw hung round her neck one of the three jewels that Princess Abriza had brought from Byzantium. When he saw this hanging on his daughter’s neck, his wits left him. He became angry, with staring eyes, and, recognizing the jewel, he looked at Nuzhat al-Zaman and demanded: ‘Slave girl, where did you get this jewel?’ To which she replied: ‘I am your lady and the mistress of all who are in your palace. Aren’t you ashamed to address me as “slave girl” when I am a queen and the daughter of a king? Concealment is now at an end and it can be revealed that I am Nuzhat al-Zaman, the daughter of King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man.’

  On hearing this, Sharkan trembled and bent his head towards the ground…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that on hearing this, Sharkan’s heart quaked; he turned pale, trembled and bent his head towards the ground, realizing that this was his half-sister. He fainted, and when he recovered, he remained in astonishment, but did not tell Nuzhat al-Zaman who he was. ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘are you really the daughter of King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man?’ ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Tell me how and why you left your father and came to be sold,’ he said, and she told him all that happened to her from beginning to end, including how she had left her sick brother in Jerusalem, and how she had been kidnapped by the Bedouin and sold by him to the merchant. When Sharkan heard that, he realized that she was indeed his half-sister. ‘How could I have married my sister?’ he said to himself. ‘By God, I shall have to marry her off to one of my chamberlains, and if word of the affair gets out, I shall claim that I divorced her before consummating the marriage and married her to my principal chamberlain.’

  He then raised his head and confessed sorrowfully: ‘Nuzhat al-Zaman, you are, in fact, my sister, and I ask God’s forgiveness for the sin into which we have fallen. I am Sharkan, son of King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man.’ She looked at him and realized that this was true. Then she lost her senses, wept and struck her face, exclaiming: ‘There is no might and no power except with God! We have fallen into a grave sin. What are we to do and what can I say to my father and my mother when they ask who was the father of this child?’ ‘What I think,’ said Sharkan, ‘is that I should marry you to my chief chamberlain and let you raise my daughter with him in his household, so that no one will know that you are my sister. This is something that has been decreed by Almighty God for some purpose of His own, and the only way we can conceal the matter is for you to be married to the man before anyone knows.’ He then began to comfort her and to kiss her head, and when she asked what name he would give the baby, he said ‘Qudiya-fa-Kana’.* He then married her to the chief chamberlain and transferred her to his house, together with her baby, who was brought up in the care of slave girls and dosed with potions and powders.

  While all this was happening, Dau’ al-Makan was in Damascus with the furnace man. One day a courier arrived from King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man with a letter for Sharkan, which he took and read. After the invocation of God’s Name, it ran: ‘Know, glorious king, that separation from my children has left me in the depth of distress. I cannot sleep and am forced to remain wakeful. As soon as you receive this letter which I am sending to you, make your preparations to forward the tax revenues and send with them the slave girl whom you have bought and married, as I want to see her and to listen to what she has to say. That is because a pious old woman has come to us from the lands of Byzantium with five swelling-breasted virgins, who have a compendious knowledge of science, culture and all the forms of wisdom that should be studied. No tongue can describe this old woman and her companions, such is their knowledge of all branches of learning, virtue and wisdom. I loved them as soon as I saw them and I wanted to have them in my palace and under my control, since no other king has anyone to match them. When I asked the old woman for their price, she said that she would only sell them for the tribute of Damascus, and, by God, I do not think that this is too much, for any one of them is worth it all. I agreed to the sale and have taken them to my palace, where they remain in my possession. So send the tribute quickly, so that the old woman may return to her own country, and send me the slave girl so that she may debate with these five in the presence of the learned doctors, and if she gets the better of them, I shall send her back to you, together with the tribute of Baghdad.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that in his letter the king had told Sharkan to send the girl to debate with the five in the presence of the learned doctors, saying: ‘If she gets the better of them, I shall send her back to you, together with the tribute of Baghdad.’

  When Sharkan read this, he went to his brother-in-law and said: ‘Bring me the girl whom I married to you.’ When she came, he showed her the letter and asked her how he should reply to it. ‘Do as you think fit,’ she said, but, feeling a longing for her family and her homeland, she added: ‘Send me off with my husband, the chamberlain, so that I may tell my father my story and let him know what happened to me with the Bedouin who sold me to the merchant and how the merchant sold me to you, and how you freed me and married me to the chamberlain.’ Sharkan agreed to this, and taking his daughter, Qudiya-fa-Kana, he gave her into the charge of wet nurses and eunuchs. He then started to prepare the tribute, which he gave to the chamberlain, telling him to take it to Baghdad, together with Nuzhat al-Zaman, providing a palanquin for him to sit in and another for Nuzhat al-Zaman. The chamberlain accepted his mission, and Sharkan fitted out camels and mules. He wrote a letter which he entrusted to the chamberlain, and he said goodbye to Nuzhat al-Zaman, his sister. He had taken the jewel from her and put it once again round the neck of his daughter, set on a chain of pure gold. The chamberlain set out that same night.

  As it happened, Dau’ al-Makan had come out with the furnace man and the two were watching from below the outer buildings. They saw camels, including ones from Bactria, as well as laden mules, torches and lighted lanterns, and when Dau’ al-Makan asked what was being transported and to whom it belonged, he was told that this was the tribute of Damascus on its way to King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man, the ruler of Baghdad, in the charge of the head chamberlain, the man who had married the slave girl who had studied science and philosophy. At that, Dau’ al-Makan burst into tears, remembering his mother and father, his sister and his homeland. He told the furnace man that he could stay in Damascus no longer, but would go with the caravan, travelling by short stages until he reached his own land. ‘I didn’t trust you to go by yourself from Jerusalem to Damascus,’ said his companion, ‘so how can I let you go to Baghdad? I shall come with you and accompany you until you reach your goal.’

  Dau’ al-Makan welcomed his offer and the man began to get ready, preparing a donkey and loading it with saddlebags containing provisions. He then tightened his belt and waited until the baggage train passed by, with the chamberlain riding on a dromedary, surrounded by footmen. Dau’ al-Makan mounted and told his companion: ‘Get up with me.’ ‘I am not going to ride,’ the man said, ‘for I am acting as your servant.’ ‘You must ride for a while,’ said Dau’ al-Makan. ‘I shall if I’m tired,’ was the reply. ‘When I come to my own people,’ said Dau’ al-Makan, ‘you will see how I shall reward you.’

  The caravan continued on its way until sunrise, and at siesta time the chamberlain ordered a halt. The travellers stopped, rested and watered their camels, after
which the order was given to move out. Five days later, they reached the city of Hama, where they halted for three days.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that they halted in Hama for three days. They then travelled on to another city, where they halted again for three days, and from there they moved to Diyar Bakr, where the breezes of Baghdad blew over them and Dau’ al-Makan remembered Nuzhat al-Zaman, his sister, as well as his mother and father and his native land. He wondered how he could go back to his father without his sister and he wept, groaned and lamented, suffering from the pangs of regret. Then he recited these lines:

  Dear one, how long must I endure delay?

  No messenger comes from you to bring me news.

  The days of union were not long;

  Would that the days of parting were as short.

  Take my hand, open my cloak and you will see

  How wasted is the form which I conceal.

  ‘Forget your love,’ they tell me. I reply:

  ‘By God, not until Resurrection Day.’