The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1
Page 53
‘Stop this weeping,’ said the furnace man, ‘as we are close to the tent of the chamberlain.’ ‘I must recite some poetry,’ replied Dau’ al-Makan, ‘in the hope that the fire in my heart may be quenched.’ ‘For God’s sake,’ said the other, ‘leave aside this grief until you reach your own country and then you can do what you like. I shall stay with you wherever you go.’ ‘By God,’ said Dau’ al-Makan, ‘I cannot stop,’ and he turned his face towards Baghdad in the rays of the moon. Nuzhat al-Zaman was restless and had not been able to sleep that night, remembering her brother. She wept and, as she did so, she heard Dau’ al-Makan reciting through his tears:
Lightning gleams in the south, stirring my sorrows,
For a loved one who used to pour me the cup of pleasure,
Reminding me of one who left me, forbidding my approach.
Lightning flash, will the days return when we were close?
Censurers, do not blame me; it is God Who has afflicted me
With a time of misery and a beloved who has left.
Delight has left my heart and Time has turned its back on me,
Pouring for me a cup of unmixed care.
Before we can meet again, Time shows that I shall die.
Time, I implore you by my love, quickly bring happiness again,
With joy and safety from care’s arrows that have struck.
Who will help a wretched stranger, passing the night afraid at heart,
Spending his days alone in sorrow for the loss of Time’s Delight?*
I have now fallen into the hands of miserable scum.
When he had finished his recitation, he gave a cry and fell fainting.
So much for him, but as for the wakeful Nuzhat al-Zaman, full of memories of her brother, when she heard the sound, her heart was eased and in her joy she called the chief eunuch. He asked what she wanted, and she told him to fetch whoever was reciting this poem. He said: ‘I did not hear him…’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard her brother’s poem, she summoned the chief eunuch and told him to fetch her the man who had recited it. He said: ‘I did not hear him, and I don’t know who he was. The people are all asleep.’ ‘If you find someone awake,’ said Nuzhat al-Zaman, ‘it must be the man who recited the poem.’ So the eunuch went to investigate, and the only person whom he found awake was the furnace man, as Dau’ al-Makan was still unconscious. The furnace man was alarmed to see the eunuch standing beside him, and when he was asked whether it was he who had been reciting the lines that his mistress had heard, he was sure that she had been angered by the recitation. ‘By God,’ he said fearfully, ‘it wasn’t me.’ ‘Well, who was it then?’ said the eunuch. ‘Show him to me. You must know him, as you are awake.’ The furnace man was afraid for Dau’ al-Makan, saying to himself that the eunuch might do him some injury, so he swore again that he did not know. ‘You’re lying,’ said the eunuch. ‘There is no one else here sitting awake, so you must know.’ ‘By God,’ said the furnace man, ‘I’m telling you the truth. The reciter was a passing wanderer, who roused me and disturbed me – may God repay him.’ ‘If you can recognize him, show him to me,’ said the eunuch, ‘so that I can take him and bring him to the entrance of my lady’s palanquin, or else you can take him yourself.’ ‘Do you go off,’ said the furnace man, ‘and I’ll bring him to you.’
The eunuch left him and went away. He then entered the presence of his mistress and told her what he had learned. ‘No one knows him,’ he explained, ‘for he was only a passing wanderer.’ Nuzhat al-Zaman remained silent, but as for Dau’ al-Makan, when he recovered consciousness, he saw that the moon had reached the mid-point of the sky and the dawn breeze was blowing over him. His heart was troubled and sorrowful, so he cleared his throat and was about to recite, when his companion asked him what he was going to do. ‘To recite some poetry,’ he replied, ‘so as to quench the fire in my heart.’ ‘You don’t know what happened to me. I only escaped death by managing to calm the eunuch.’ Dau’ al-Makan asked what had happened and he said: ‘Master, while you were unconscious, a eunuch came to me with a long stick of almond-tree wood. He started looking at the faces of the sleepers and he was asking who it was who had been reciting poetry. I was the only one whom he found awake and so he asked me and I told him that it had been a passing wanderer. He went off, and had God not saved me from him, he would have killed me. He told me that if I heard the man again, I was to produce him.’
When Dau’ al-Makan heard this, he wept and said: ‘Who can stop me reciting poetry? I shall do it whatever happens to me, for I am near my own land and I don’t care about anyone.’ ‘You want to get yourself killed,’ said his companion. ‘I must recite,’ Dau’ al-Makan insisted. ‘Then we shall part now,’ said the other, ‘in spite of the fact that I had not meant to leave you until you had reached your own city and had been reunited with your father and mother. You have been with me for a year and a half, and I have done nothing to injure you. What is making you recite poetry when we are worn out with walking and sleeplessness, and people are sleeping because they are tired and need their rest?’ ‘I shall not change my mind,’ said Dau’ al-Makan, and then, moved by grief, he revealed his secret sorrow once again and started to recite these lines:
Halt by the dwellings; greet the abandoned camp.
Call to it and maybe, maybe, it will reply.
If desolate night has covered you,
Kindle a brand of longing in its darkness.
If the snake hisses on the beloved’s cheeks,*
No wonder that it bites me, should I kiss red lips.
O paradise that the soul has left unwillingly,
If not consoled by immortality, I shall die of grief!
He also added these lines:
There was a time when the days were in our service,
While we were with each other in the happiest of lands.
Who will now bring me to the house of the dear ones,
Where the place is illumined† and there is Time’s Delight?
When he had finished his poem, he cried thrice and fell on the ground in a faint, after which the furnace man got up and covered him. When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard the first poem, she remembered her father, her mother and her brother. Then, on hearing the second, containing as it did a mention of her name and that of her brother, together with their familial home, she burst into tears and called to the eunuch, reproaching him and saying: ‘The man who recited earlier has done it again. I heard him close by and if you don’t bring him to me, I shall report you to the chamberlain and he will have you beaten and driven away. Take this hundred dinars and give it to him, and then bring him to me gently, doing him no harm. If he refuses to come, then give him this purse which contains a thousand dinars, and if he still refuses, leave him, but find out where he is staying, what is his profession and where he comes from. Then come back to me quickly and don’t be away long.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-third night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that Nuzhat al-Zaman sent the eunuch to look for the reciter and said: ‘Don’t come back to me and say that you haven’t found him.’
The eunuch went off, peering at the people there and stamping through their tents, but failing to find anyone awake, as they were all sleeping soundly. He then came upon the furnace man, whom he found sitting with his head uncovered, and approaching him, he seized his hand. ‘You are the man who was reciting poetry,’ he exclaimed. ‘No, by God, leader of the people,’ said the frightened furnace man, ‘it wasn’t me.’ ‘I’m not going to let you go until you show me who it was,’ said the eunuch, ‘as I’m afraid of what my mistress will do if I go back to her without him.’ When he heard this, the man was afraid for Dau’ al-Makan and repeated, weeping bitt
erly: ‘By God, it wasn’t me and I don’t know the man. I only heard some passer-by reciting. Don’t do me wrong, for I am a stranger from Jerusalem. May Abraham, the Friend of God, be with you.’ ‘Do you come with me,’ said the eunuch, ‘and tell this to my mistress yourself, for I have found no one else awake except you.’ The furnace man said: ‘You have come and seen where I am sitting and you know where it is. No one can move from his place without being arrested by the guards, and if after this you hear anyone reciting poetry, near at hand or far away, it will be me or someone that I know and you will only find out who he is through me.’ He then kissed the eunuch’s head and calmed him.
The eunuch then left him, but circled round and concealed himself behind the furnace man, as he was afraid to return to his mistress with nothing to show for his search. The furnace man got up and roused Dau’ al-Makan. ‘Sit up,’ he told him, ‘so that I can tell you what has just happened.’ He did this, but Dau’ al-Makan insisted: ‘I’m not going to worry about this; I don’t care about anyone, for my own country is near at hand.’ ‘Why do you follow your own wishes and obey the devil?’ asked his friend. ‘You may not fear anyone, but I fear for you and for myself, and I ask you, for God’s sake, don’t recite any more poetry until you are home. I didn’t think that you were like this. Don’t you realize that this lady, the chamberlain’s wife, wants to reprimand you for disturbing her, as she may be sick or wakeful because of the fatigue of the journey and the distance that she has travelled? This is the second time that she has sent the eunuch to look for you.’
Paying no attention to him, Dau’ al-Makan cried out for a third time and recited:
I have abandoned every censurer whose blame disturbed me;
He blames me but he does not know he has incited me.
‘He has found consolation,’ slanderers say,
And I reply: ‘This is because of love for my own land.’
‘What makes it beautiful?’ they ask.
I tell them: ‘That which has evoked my love.’
‘And what is it that makes it great?’ they say.
The answer is: ‘That which has humbled me.’
Far be it from me ever to leave it,
Even if I must drink the cup of grief,
And I shall not obey a censurer
Who condemns me for loving it.
The eunuch, who was listening as Dau’ al-Makan finished his poem, came out of hiding and stood beside him. On seeing this, the furnace man ran off and stopped at a distance to watch what was happening between them. ‘Peace be on you, master,’ said the eunuch. ‘And on you be peace and the mercy and blessing of God,’ replied Dau’ al-Makan.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the eunuch said to Dau’ al-Makan: ‘Master, I have come to you three times tonight, because my mistress summons you to come to her.’ ‘Where does this bitch come from who wants me? God damn her and her husband as well!’ exclaimed Dau’ al-Makan. He then started to abuse the eunuch, who was not able to reply as his mistress had told him to do the man no injury and only to fetch him if he was willing to come. Otherwise, he was to give him a hundred dinars. So the eunuch started talking gently to him and saying: ‘Master, take this money and come with me. My son, we have done you no mischief or harm. I would like you to be good enough to accompany me to my mistress. She will answer your queries; you will return in all safety and you will find that we have great news for you.’ On hearing this, Dau’ al-Makan got up and walked through the people, stepping over their sleeping bodies, with the furnace man following behind, watching him and saying to himself: ‘Alas for this youth: they will hang him tomorrow.’ He walked on until he came close to them, without their seeing him, and when he stopped, he said to himself: ‘How mean it would be of him were he to accuse me of having told him to recite the verses.’
So much for him, but as for Dau’ al-Makan, he walked on with the eunuch who then entered into the presence of Nuzhat al-Zaman and said: ‘My lady, I have brought you the man you were looking for. He is a handsome young fellow, who looks as though he comes from a wealthy background.’ When she heard that, her heart beat fast and she said: ‘Let him recite some poetry so that I may listen to it from close at hand. Then ask him his name and where he comes from.’ The eunuch went out to Dau’ al-Makan and said: ‘Recite your poetry, for the lady is here nearby to listen to you, and after that I am to ask you your name, country and condition.’ ‘Willingly,’ answered Dau’ al-Makan, ‘but if you ask me my name, it has been blotted out; my traces are effaced and my body is worn away. The beginning of my story cannot be known, nor can its end be described. I am here like a drunkard who has drunk too much and has not spared himself. He has been afflicted by hardships; his wits have left him and he is bewildered, drowning in a sea of cares.’
When Nuzhat al-Zaman was told this, she burst into tears and then wept and moaned even more bitterly. ‘Ask him,’ she told the eunuch, ‘whether he has been parted from someone he loves, such as his mother or his father.’ The eunuch followed her orders and put the question to Dau’ al-Makan. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I have been parted from everyone, but the dearest of them to me was my sister, who was separated from me by fate.’ When Nuzhat al-Zaman heard this, she said: ‘May Almighty God reunite him with those he loves.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-fifth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Nuzhat al-Zaman heard this, she said: ‘May Almighty God reunite him with those he loves.’ Then she told the eunuch: ‘Let him recite me some lines about his parting from his family and his native land.’ The eunuch did as he was told, and Dau’ al-Makan, sighing deeply, recited:
The lover is bound by the compact of this love;
I honour a dwelling in which Hind once lived.
Love for her is the only love known to man;
There is no past or future to be found in it.
The valley smells of musk and ambergris,
If one day it is visited by Hind.
Greetings to a beloved in the guarded heights,
The mistress of the tribe for whom all those surrounding her are slaves.
My two companions, after this evening there is no halting place;
Rest; here is the ban tree and the lone waymark.
Question none other than my heart;
It is love’s ally, not to be turned back.
May God cause clouds to rain on Time’s Delight,
As thunder rolls with no break from their depths.
When Nuzhat al-Zaman had listened to the end of his poem, she drew back the skirt of the curtain from her palanquin and looked at him. As soon as her eyes fell on his face, she recognized him and was certain that it was he. ‘Brother!’ she cried out. ‘Dau’ al-Makan!’ He in his turn looked at her, recognized her and said: ‘My sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman!’ She threw herself into his arms and he clasped her to him, after which they both fell down in a faint. The astonished eunuch threw a covering over them and waited until they had recovered consciousness. When they had, Nuzhat al-Zaman was full of joy; care and sadness left her and their place was taken by delight. She recited these lines:
Time swore it would not cease to sadden me;
Time, you are forsworn, so expiate your sin.
Happiness has come; the beloved has helped me.
So rise, tuck up your robe and meet the summoner of happiness.
I did not trust old tales of Paradise
Until I came to taste the nectar of red lips.
On hearing this, Dau’ al-Makan clasped his sister to his breast, while tears of joy poured from his eyes and he recited:
We two are equal in our love, but she
Shows hardiness at times, while I have none.
She fears malicious threats, but when I am held back
They sat for a time at the entrance to the palanquin, after which Nuzhat al-Zaman invited her brother to come in with her so that he could tell her his story and she could tell him hers. They entered and he said: ‘Do you tell me yours first.’ She told him all that had happened to her since she left him in the khan: her encounter with the Bedouin and with the merchant who had bought her from him; how the merchant had taken her to her brother, Sharkan; how Sharkan had set her free after buying her, drawn up a marriage contract and consummated the marriage, after which her father had heard about her and sent word to Sharkan to ask for her. Then she said: ‘Praise be to God, Who has given me to you. As we were together when we left our father, so we shall go back to him together.’ She added that Sharkan had married her to the chamberlain in order that he might take her to her father. ‘This is everything that happened to me from beginning to end, so do you tell me what happened to you after I left you.’
Dau’ al-Makan told her the whole tale from start to finish – how God had granted him the help of the furnace man, who had travelled with him, spent his money on him and looked after him, night and day. When Nuzhat al-Zaman expressed her gratitude for this, Dau’ al-Makan added: ‘Sister, this man has done me such services as no one would do for one of his loved ones, and no father for his son. He went hungry to feed me and walked while making me ride. I owe him my life.’ ‘If God Almighty wills,’ said Nuzhat al-Zaman, ‘we shall repay him as far as is in our power.’ She then called for the eunuch, who kissed the hand of Dau’ al-Makan when he came in. ‘Take the reward for good news, you bringer of luck,’ Nuzhat al-Zaman said to him. ‘It is through you that I have been reunited with my brother. The purse that you have with you and its contents are yours. So now go and bring me your master quickly.’
The delighted eunuch made his way to the chamberlain’s presence and asked him to come to his mistress. When he arrived with the eunuch, he found Dau’ al-Makan with Nuzhat al-Zaman, and in reply to his question, she told him everything that had happened to the two of them from beginning to end. ‘You must know, chamberlain,’ she said, ‘that it was no slave girl whom you took, but the daughter of King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man. For I am Nuzhat al-Zaman and this is my brother, Dau’ al-Makan.’ When the chamberlain heard the story, he recognized the truth of what she had said; the whole affair was clear to him and he realized that he had indeed become the son-in-law of the king. ‘I shall be made the governor of a province,’ he said to himself, after which he went up to Dau’ al-Makan, congratulating him on his safe return and his reunion with his sister. He immediately told his servants to prepare a tent for him and to bring one of his best horses.