Nuzhat al-Zaman then said to him: ‘We are close to our own country. I want to be alone with my brother so that we may relax in each other’s company and take our fill of it before we reach home, since we have been parted for so long.’ ‘As you wish,’ said the chamberlain. He then sent them candles, together with sweetmeats of various sorts and left them. He sent Dau’ al-Makan three splendid suits of clothes and walked back to his own palanquin, savouring his good fortune. ‘Send for the eunuch,’ Nuzhat al-Zaman told him, ‘and tell him to fetch the furnace man. He is to be given a horse to ride; meals are to be provided for him morning and evening, and he is to be told not to leave us.’ At that, the chamberlain sent for the eunuch and passed on these instructions. ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied the eunuch, and he then took his own servants and went off in search of the furnace man. He found him at the far end of the caravan, saddling his donkey and preparing for flight, with tears running down his cheeks out of fear for his own life and sorrow at being parted from Dau’ al-Makan. ‘I warned him in God’s Name,’ he was saying to himself, ‘but he wouldn’t listen to me. I wonder what state he is in.’ Before he had finished speaking, the eunuch was standing beside him, with his servants all around him. When the furnace man turned and saw this, he grew pale with fear.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-sixth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the furnace man was saddling his donkey and preparing for flight, wondering what was happening to Dau’ al-Makan, when before he had finished speaking, the eunuch was standing beside him, with his servants all around him. When the furnace man turned and saw this, he shivered with fear. Then he said aloud: ‘He didn’t acknowledge the good that I did him and I think he must have accused me falsely to the eunuch and these servants, saying that I was his partner in this crime.’ The eunuch shouted at him and asked: ‘Who was it who recited the verses? You liar, how can you say: “I didn’t do it and I don’t know who did” when he was your companion? I am going to stay with you from here to Baghdad, so that everything that happens to your companion will happen to you.’
When the man heard that, he said to himself: ‘What I was afraid of has happened.’ Then he recited the line:
What I feared has come about; to God do we return.
At the eunuch’s shouted order, the servants made the man get down from his donkey and they then brought him a horse, which he mounted, and he moved off with the caravan, surrounded by servants. ‘If he loses a single hair,’ the eunuch told them, ‘one of you will pay for it,’ for he had secretly instructed them to treat him with respect and not to humiliate him. Seeing the servants all around him, the furnace man despaired of life. He turned to the eunuch and said: ‘Sir, I am not his brother or any relation of his. He has no connection with me or I with him; I am a furnace man in a bath house and I found him when he was ill and had been thrown on to a dung heap.’
The caravan set off on its way, with the furnace man weeping, prey to a thousand regrets, and the eunuch walking by his side. The eunuch had told him nothing of what had happened, but kept saying: ‘You disturbed my mistress with your reciting, you and the young man, but don’t fear for yourself,’ while all the while he was secretly laughing at him. When they halted, food would be produced and he and the furnace man ate from the same dish. He would then tell the servants to bring a jug of sherbet, from which he would drink and which he would offer to the furnace man, who never stopped weeping out of fear for himself and sorrow at being parted from Dau’ al-Makan and for what had happened to them on their journey from home. At times the eunuch waited on Dau’ al-Makan and Nuzhat al-Zaman at the entrance of the palanquin, while at other times he kept his eye on the furnace man.
As for Nuzhat al-Zaman and her brother, they continued to pass the time talking and going over their sufferings until they were within three days of Baghdad. The caravan camped in the evening and rested there until dawn. The people had woken and were about to load up, when suddenly a great cloud of dust appeared. The sky darkened and it became black as night. ‘Wait,’ shouted the chamberlain, ‘don’t load the baggage!’ And he and his mamluks mounted and rode out towards the dust cloud. When they got near it they could see beneath it a huge army like a swelling sea, with banners, standards, drums, horsemen and champions. The chamberlain was astonished, but when the army saw them, a detachment of some five hundred horse split away from it and approached him and his men, surrounding them and outnumbering them five to one. ‘What is going on?’ the chamberlain asked them. ‘Where have the troops come from and why are they treating us like this?’ ‘Who are you?’ they asked in reply. ‘Where are you from and where are you going?’ ‘I am the chamberlain of the governor of Damascus, Sultan Sharkan, son of King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man, the lord of Baghdad and ruler of Khurasan,’ the chamberlain answered. ‘I have come from him bringing tribute and gifts and am on my way to his father in Baghdad.’ When they heard this, they covered their faces with their kerchiefs and wept. ‘ ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man is dead,’ they said. ‘He has died of poison, but you may go on in safety to meet the grand vizier, Dandan.’
At this news the chamberlain wept bitterly, exclaiming: ‘How our hopes have been dashed on this journey!’ He and his companions went on shedding tears until they joined the main body of the troops. Permission was asked for them to approach the vizier Dandan and this was granted. Dandan ordered a tent to be pitched and, having taken his seat on a couch in the middle of it, he told the chamberlain to be seated. When he had done so, Dandan asked him for his news, and on hearing that this was the chamberlain of the sultan of Damascus and that he had come with gifts and with the Damascene tribute, he broke into tears at a reference to ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man. ‘The king has died of poison,’ he said, ‘and because of his death, there is a dispute about who should succeed him. There has been some killing, but the factions have been kept apart by men of standing and distinction, helped by the four qadis. Everyone agreed that no one was to oppose the qadis’ recommendation, and that I should go to Damascus, seek out the king’s son, Sharkan, and then bring him back and set him on his father’s throne. There are some who want the king’s second son, Dau’ al-Makan, the brother of Nuzhat al-Zaman, but the two of them went to the Hijaz and it is five years since anyone heard of them.’
When the chamberlain heard that, he realized that the story of his wife’s adventures was true. He was greatly saddened by the death of ‘Umar, but his sadness was mixed with joy, particularly because of the arrival of Dau’ al-Makan, who would become ruler of Baghdad in his father’s place.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-seventh night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Sharkan’s chamberlain heard about King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man from the vizier Dandan, he was saddened, but his sadness was mixed with joy for his wife and her brother, Dau’ al-Makan, who was to succeed his father as king of Baghdad. He turned to Dandan and said: ‘Your tale is a wonder of wonders. You must know, great vizier, that because you happened to meet me now, God has given you rest from labour, and things have turned out as you would wish in the simplest of ways. For God has restored to you Dau’ al-Makan, together with his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, and the affair can be settled easily.’
The vizier was delighted when he heard this and he asked the chamberlain to tell him what had happened to the pair and why they had been absent. The chamberlain told him about Nuzhat al-Zaman, and that she had become his wife, and he also repeated the story of Dau’ al-Makan from beginning to end. When he had finished, Dandan sent to the emirs, viziers and great officers of state to tell them about this. Both delighted and amazed by the coincidence, they all came to the chamberlain, made their obeisance and kissed the ground in front of him, while Dandan went up and stood in front of him. On that day, the chamberlain held a grand council meeting, at which he and th
e vizier Dandan sat on a dais with all the emirs, grandees and officers of state ranged before them, according to their ranks. Sugar was dissolved in rosewater and they drank this, after which the emirs sat down to take counsel, while the rest of the army was allowed to ride off, moving on slowly until the council was finished, so that the others could catch them up.
Accordingly, the troops kissed the ground before the chamberlain and rode off, preceded by their battle flags. When the great officers had finished their deliberations, they mounted and rejoined the others, and it was then that the chamberlain came up to the vizier Dandan and said: ‘I think that I should go on ahead to prepare a suitable place for the king, letting him know of your arrival and telling him that you have chosen him as your ruler over the head of his brother Sharkan.’ The vizier approved of this, after which the chamberlain got up, as did the vizier to show respect for him. The vizier gave him gifts, begging him to accept them, as did the great emirs and the officers of state, who called down blessings on him and asked him to talk on their behalf to the king, Dau’ al-Makan, with a request that they may continue in their offices. The chamberlain agreed to this. He then ordered the servants to set off, and Dandan sent tents with him, ordering that they be pitched at a distance of a day’s journey from Baghdad.
They obeyed his command and the chamberlain rode off in a state of delight, saying to himself: ‘What a lucky journey this has been!’ His wife gained in importance in his eyes, as did Dau’ al-Makan. He pressed on with his journey until he came within a day’s distance of Baghdad, where he ordered his men to halt for a rest and to prepare a place for King Dau’ al-Makan, son of King ‘Umar, to sit. He and his mamluks dismounted at a distance, and he ordered the eunuchs to ask Lady Nuzhat al-Zaman’s permission for him to enter her presence. When this had been given, he went in and joined her and her brother. He told them of their father’s death and that the leaders had chosen Dau’ al-Makan as their ruler in his father’s place, congratulating them both on their kingdom. They wept at the loss of their father and asked how he had been killed. ‘It is the vizier Dandan who knows about this,’ said the chamberlain, ‘and he and the whole army will be here tomorrow. Nothing remains, your majesty, except for you to follow their advice. They have unanimously chosen you as king. If you do not accept, they will appoint someone else and your life will not be safe from him. Either he will kill you, or things will go wrong between you, and the kingdom will slip from the hands of you both.’
Dau’ al-Makan bent his head down for a time, before saying: ‘I accept, as I cannot free myself of this office.’ Convinced that the chamberlain had given him sound advice, he then said: ‘Uncle, what am I to do with my brother Sharkan?’ ‘My son,’ said the chamberlain, ‘your brother will be sultan of Damascus and you are to be king of Baghdad, so be resolute and make your preparations.’ Dau’ al-Makan accepted this advice and the chamberlain fetched him a royal robe that Dandan had brought, as well as the ceremonial dagger. He then left Dau’ al-Makan and told the servants to pick a high place for the erection of an enormous pavilion in which the king could sit when the emirs came to meet him. The cooks were ordered to prepare and present a splendid meal, while the water carriers were to provide water troughs.
Some time passed and then a dust cloud could be seen filling all parts, and when it cleared away, beneath it could be seen a huge army like a swelling sea.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-eighth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that orders were given for the erection of an enormous pavilion such as was customary for kings and where the people could gather in the king’s presence. When this had been done, a dust cloud appeared, blotting out the sky, and beneath it could be seen a huge army. This was the army of Baghdad and Khurasan, led by Dandan, and all were full of joy that the kingdom had passed to Dau’ al-Makan. He himself was wearing royal robes and was girt with the processional sword. The chamberlain brought up his horse and, after mounting, he moved off with his mamluks, while all those who were in the tents walked in attendance on him until he entered the great pavilion. There he took his seat, with his dagger on his thigh, and the chamberlain in attendance before him. The mamluks, with drawn swords in their hands, were in the outer section of the pavilion, and it was now that the regular troops and levies arrived and asked permission to enter. The chamberlain went in to pass their request to Dau’ al-Makan, who ordered that they should come in groups of ten. When the chamberlain told them that, they agreed and they all stood at the outer entrance. Ten of them then entered and the chamberlain took them through and brought them into the sultan’s presence.
When they saw Dau’ al-Makan they were filled with awe; he greeted them with the greatest courtesy and promised them all manner of favours. They congratulated him on his safe return, invoked blessings on him and swore a faithful oath that they would do nothing against his will, after which they kissed the ground before him and left. They were followed by another ten, whom he treated in the same way, and the rest kept on coming in, ten at a time, until no one was left except the vizier Dandan. He entered and kissed the ground in front of Dau’ al-Makan, who rose for him, came up to him and said: ‘Welcome to the vizier, the venerable father. Your acts are those of a noble counsellor and the administration is in the hands of a man of subtlety and experience.’
He then told the chamberlain to go out immediately to order tables to be laid, to which all the soldiers were to be summoned. They came up, ate and drank, and Dau’ al-Makan told Dandan to order them to stay there for ten days so that the two of them might have a private meeting in which he could find out the cause of his father’s death. Dandan obeyed his instructions, saying: ‘I shall certainly do that,’ and after going to the middle of the camp, he gave orders that his men were to rest there for ten days. They were given leave to amuse themselves, and for three days none of the orderly officers were to enter to present their services to the king. They all expressed their humble duty and prayed for Dau’ al-Makan’s continued glory, after which Dandan went to him and told him of this.
Dau’ al-Makan himself waited until nightfall and he then visited Nuzhat al-Zaman and asked her whether or not she knew how it was that their father had met his death. When she had said that she did not, she let down a silken curtain and Dau’ al-Makan, seated on the far side of it, ordered the vizier Dandan to be brought to him. When he came, Dau’ al-Makan told him that he wanted to know the details of his father’s death. ‘You must know, your majesty,’ said Dandan, ‘that when King ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man returned from his hunting trip and came to the city, he asked about you and your sister, but could not find you. He realized that you must have gone on the pilgrimage and was distressed and exceedingly angry. For six months he asked for news from all stray comers, but no one could tell him anything. Then one day, a full year after the loss of you both, while I was with him an old woman came to us, showing the marks of asceticism. With her were five slave girls, swelling-breasted virgins like moons, whose beauty and loveliness no tongue could describe. Not only were they beautiful, but they could recite the Quran and had a knowledge of philosophy and the histories of past generations.’ HE WENT ON:
The old woman asked for and received permission to have an audience with the king. I was sitting there by his side as she came in and kissed the ground before him. He allowed her to approach because of the signs of pious asceticism that she displayed, and when she had settled, she turned to him and said: ‘Your majesty, with me are five slave girls, the like of whom no king possesses. They are intelligent, beautiful and perfect; they can recite the Quran with its variant readings; they are acquainted with the sciences and the histories of past peoples. They are here before you, standing in attendance on you, king of the age. It is by examination that a man is honoured or scorned.’ Your late father looked at the girls and was pleased by what he saw, so he told each of them to produce for him something that she knew of th
e histories of the past.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seventy-ninth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the vizier Dandan told King Dau’ al-Makan: ‘Your lamented father looked at the girls and was pleased by what he saw, so he told each of them to produce for him something that she knew of the histories of the past.’ HE WENT ON:
One of them came forward, kissed the ground before him and said: ‘You have to know, O king, that every man of culture must avoid officiousness, adorn himself with virtues, perform his religious duties and avoid mortal sin. He must keep to this pattern of behaviour, believing that to abandon it would destroy him. The foundation of culture is nobility of character. You must also know that what we seek through most of the ways in which we make our living is life, and the purpose of life is to worship God. You must behave well towards men and never abandon this practice. Those who occupy the highest rank are most in need of sound planning, and so kings require this more than common people, who may plunge without restraint into affairs, with no thought for the consequences. You must freely offer your life and your wealth in God’s cause. Know that your enemy is an opponent with whom you can argue, whom you can convince with proofs and against whom you can guard yourself, while between you and your friend the only judge who can adjudicate is good character. Test your friend before choosing him. If he is one of those who lives for the next world, let him follow faithfully the externals of the law, while knowing its secret meaning, as far as this is possible. If he is an adherent of this world, he should be liberal and truthful, and neither ignorant nor wicked. His own parents should flee from the ignorant man, while the liar cannot be a friend, as the word “friend” derives from “truth”.* This comes from the depth of the heart, so how can it apply to one whose tongue speaks falsehood?
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 54