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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  After having agreed with them on what they were to say so far, the old woman went on: ‘When you have caught the attention of Sultan Sharkan, say to him: “When we heard what the picture said, we realized that the anchorite…” ’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Dhat al-Dawahi had told this to her companions, she went on: ‘When you have caught the attention of Sultan Sharkan, say to him: “When we heard what the picture said, we realized that the anchorite m"ust be one of the great saints from among God’s pure servants. So we travelled for three days, after which we came in sight of the monastery and turned aside to go to it. We stayed there for a day, buying and selling in the way that merchants do. That evening, when the shades of night had fallen, we went to the cell with the underground chamber and there we heard the anchorite reciting verses from the Quran, followed by these lines:

  I wrestle with my heart and am downcast;

  A sea of sorrows sweeps away my heart and then drowns it.

  If there is no relief, then I wish for sudden death:

  Death would be kinder to me than my misfortunes.

  Lightning flash, if you come to my lands and to their folk,

  And if you see rising above you the brightness of good news,

  Tell me how I may meet them, while wars part us,

  And while the door of ransom has stayed closed.

  Take greetings to my loved ones and tell them

  I am a distant captive, in a Rumi cell.” ’

  The old woman went on: ‘When you bring me to the Muslim army and I am within their ranks, you will see how I shall produce a trick to deceive them and destroy every last one of them.’ On hearing this, the Christians kissed her hands and put her in a chest, after having given her a violent and painful beating by way of showing respect for her, as they thought they must obey her commands. They then set off with her to the Muslim army, as we have said.

  So much for Dhat al-Dawahi, the damned, and her companions. As for the Muslim army, after God had granted them victory over their enemies and they had taken the money and the stores that had been on the ships, they sat talking together. ‘It was because of our just dealings and the fact that we were prepared to follow each other’s lead that God helped us,’ said Dau’ al-Makan to his brother, adding: ‘So obey my commands in obedience to God, the Great and Glorious. For what I intend to do is to kill ten kings in revenge for my father, to slaughter fifty thousand Rumis and to enter Constantinople.’ ‘May my own life ransom you from death,’ Sharkan replied. ‘I must myself fight in the Holy War, even if I have to stay in their country for years, but in Damascus I have a daughter, whose name is Qudiya-fa-Kana and to whom I am deeply attached. She is one of the wonders of the age and is destined for fame.’ ‘I, too,’ said Dau’ al-Makan, ‘have left a slave girl on the point of giving birth and I don’t know what sex of child God will provide for me. So make a pact with me that if it turns out to be a boy, you will allow me the hand of your daughter in marriage to my son, binding yourself to this with an oath.’ Sharkan willingly agreed and shook his brother’s hand, saying: ‘If you have a son, I will give you my daughter, Qudiya-fa-Kana.’

  This pleased Dau’ al-Makan and they started to congratulate each other on their victory over the enemy. The vizier Dandan congratulated both of them and said: ‘Know, your majesties, that God gave us victory because we devoted ourselves to Him, the Lord of majesty and glory, leaving our families and our homeland. My advice is that we should follow the retreating enemy, besiege them and fight in the hope that God may allow us to achieve our goal and exterminate them. If you are willing, take the ships and set out by sea, while we march by land and endure the heat of combat in battle.’ He kept on urging them to fight, reciting the lines of the poet:

  ‘My greatest pleasure is to kill my foe,

  When I am mounted on a noble horse,

  Or when a promise comes from a beloved,

  Or when a beloved comes without a tryst.

  Another poet has said:

  If I am given life, I take war as a mother,

  The spears as brothers and the sword as a father,

  With all dishevelled heroes smiling in the face of death,

  As though by being killed they win their heart’s desire.’

  Having finished this poem, Dandan added: ‘Glory be to Him who gave us His mighty aid and allowed us to take spoils of silver and gold!’

  Dau’ al-Makan then ordered the army to move out and they set off for Constantinople, pressing on with their march until they reached a broad stretch of pasture full of good things, with wild beasts disporting themselves and passing herds of gazelles. They had crossed many deserts and had not found water for six days, so when they came to the pasture land and looked at the springs that gushed up there and the ripe fruits, the land, so decorated and adorned, looked to them like a paradise. It seemed as though the tree branches were drunken and reeling with the wine of the dew, combining the sweetness of the fountain of Paradise with the languor of the zephyr. Both mind and sight were astonished; it was as the poet has said:

  Look at the verdant garden and it is as though

  It has been covered with a robe of green.

  If you allow your eye to roam, all you will see

  Will be a pool in which the water swirls.

  You will see yourself as glorious among the trees,

  Since everywhere you go a banner floats above your head.

  Another poet has said:

  The river is a cheek reddened by the sun’s rays,

  Over which creeps the down of the ban tree’s shade.

  Water is like silver anklets around the trunks of trees,

  While the flowers there resemble crowns.

  When Dau’ al-Makan saw this meadow with its closely packed trees, its flowers in bloom and singing birds, he called to Sharkan and said: ‘Brother, there is no place like this in Damascus. We shall wait for three days to rest before leaving it so that the soldiers of Islam may be refreshed and heartened before meeting the vile infidels.’

  They halted and, while they were there, they heard the sound of far-off voices. On asking about this, Dau’ al-Makan was told that a caravan of Syrian merchants had stopped there for a rest and that perhaps the soldiers had come across them and taken some of their goods, as they had been in infidel territory. Some time later, the merchants came up, crying out and calling for help from the king. Dau’ al-Makan ordered them to be brought to him, and when they came, they said: ‘O king, when we were in the lands of the infidels, no one plundered any of our goods, so how is it that our Muslim brothers rob us while we are in their own lands? When we saw your men, we went up to them and they seized all we had. Now we have told you what has happened to us.’

  They then produced for him the letter from the emperor of Constantinople. Sharkan took this and read it, after which he told them that their goods would be handed back to them, but that they should not trade in the lands of the infidel. ‘Master,’ they said, ‘it was God who sent us to their lands to win a prize such as no ghazi has ever won, not even in one of your raids.’ When Sharkan asked what this prize might be, they said: ‘We can only tell you in private, because if word of it spread and someone found out, it could lead to our destruction and the destruction of every Muslim who goes to the land of Rum.’

  The merchants had hidden away the chest in which the damned Dhat al-Dawahi had been placed, and when Dau’ al-Makan and his brother took them off by themselves, they explained the story of the anchorite and started to shed tears, causing the two brothers to weep with them.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Dau’ al-Makan and his brother took the merchants off by themselves, they explained the story of the anchor
ite and started to shed tears, causing the two brothers to weep with them. When they repeated the story that the sorceress had taught them, Sharkan felt compassion for the ‘anchorite’, being moved not only by pity but by zeal for the cause of Almighty God. ‘Did you free this ascetic,’ he asked, ‘or is he still in the monastery?’ ‘No,’ they said, ‘we freed him and we killed the abbot, fearing for our lives, after which we fled in a hurry, being afraid lest we perish. We were told by a trustworthy man that in the monastery there are great stores of gold, silver and jewels.’ After saying this, they produced the chest and brought out the damned old woman, black and thin as a cassia pod and laden with fetters and chains. When Dau’ al-Makan and the others there saw her, they thought that she was a man, one of the best of God’s servants, and a most excellent ascetic, particularly as her forehead was gleaming with the unguent that she had smeared on her face.

  Dau’ al-Makan and his brother both wept bitterly and, going up to her, they kissed her hands and feet, sobbing the while. She gestured to them, telling them to stop weeping and to listen to what she had to say. They did this obediently and she said: ‘Know that I am content with what my Master has done with me, for I realize that the misfortune which He brought upon me was a test on His part, Great and Glorious as He is. Whoever has not endured misfortune and trials cannot enter the garden of Paradise. I used to wish that I might return to my own land, not because I could not bear the affliction that had befallen me, but so that I might die beneath the hooves of the horses of the fighters in the Holy War who after their death are alive and not dead.’ She then recited:

  The fortress is Mount Sinai; the fire of war is lit;

  You are Moses and this is the appointed time.

  Throw down your staff to take up all they made;

  Have no fear, though their ropes have become snakes.

  Read the lines of the enemy as suras on the day of battle,

  For your sword in their necks will serve as verses.

  When she had finished reciting these lines, her eyes filled with tears, and because of the unguent, her forehead was like a gleaming light. Sharkan went up to her, kissed her hand and had food brought for her, but she refused to take it and said: ‘I have not broken my fast for fifteen years, so how should I do it now when, through my Master’s bounty, I have been rescued from captivity among the infidels and saved from what was worse than the torture of fire? I shall wait until sunset.’ When the time came for the evening meal, Sharkan came up with Dau’ al-Makan, bringing food and telling her to eat. ‘This is no time for eating,’ she replied. ‘Rather, this is the time to worship God, the King and Judge.’ She stood praying at a shrine until the night had passed. She went on like this day for three days and nights, only sitting for the formulae of greeting at the end of the prayer.

  Seeing all this, Dau’ al-Makan was completely convinced of her sincerity, and he told Sharkan to have a leather tent pitched for the ‘ascetic’ and to assign a servant to wait on her. On the fourth day she called for food and they produced for her food of all kinds, both delicious and attractive to the eye, but of all this she would eat only a single loaf with salt, before determining to renew her fast, and standing up to pray as soon as night fell. Sharkan said to Dau’ al-Makan: ‘This man has taken asceticism in this world to its furthest point and, were it not for the Holy War, I would stay with him and worship God in his service until I meet Him. I want to go into his tent with him and to talk to him for some time.’ ‘I would like that, too,’ said Dau’ al-Makan. ‘Tomorrow we are setting out to attack Constantinople and so we shall find no time like the present. I, too, want to visit this man, so that he may pray for me to die in the Holy War and meet my Lord, as I have no desires left in this world.’

  When it was dark, they went to visit the sorceress in her tent and found her standing praying. They came close to her and started to weep out of pity for her, but she paid no attention to them until it was midnight and she had finished her prayers. Then she went up to them, greeted them and asked why they had come. They said: ‘Worshipper of God, did you not hear us weeping close to you?’ ‘Whoever stands in the presence of God,’ she answered, ‘has no existence in the created world which could allow him to hear or to see anyone.’ They went on: ‘We want you to tell us how you came to be captured and we want you to pray for us tonight, as that would be better for us than to take Constantinople.’

  ‘By God,’ she said, ‘if you were not Muslim emirs, I would never say anything about that, for it is only to God that I raise my complaint, but as it is, I shall now explain how I was captured. You must know that I was in Jerusalem with a number of the mystical saints. I did not pride myself on being superior to them, as God, the Glorious, the Exalted had granted me the grace of humility and asceticism, but it then happened one night that I went to the sea and walked on the water. I was filled with pride that came from I don’t know where, and I said to myself: “Who is like me and can walk on water?”

  ‘From that moment on, my heart became hard and God afflicted me with a love of travel. I went to the lands of Rum and travelled around its regions for a full year, worshipping God wherever I went. I reached a place where I climbed a mountain on which was the monastery of a monk called Matruhina. When this man saw me, he came out to meet me and kissed my hands and feet, saying: “You have been in my sight ever since you came to the lands of Rum and you have filled me with a longing for the lands of Islam.” Taking me by the hand, he brought me into the monastery where he led me to a dark room. When I went in, before I knew what he was doing, he had shut the door on me, and he then left me there for forty days without food or drink, intending to keep me there until I died.

  ‘One day, it happened that a patrician named Decianus came to the monastery, bringing with him ten servants together with his daughter, Tamathil, a girl of unparalleled beauty. On their arrival, the monk Matruhina told them about me. “Bring him out,” said Decianus, “for there won’t be enough flesh left on him for the birds to eat.” They opened the door of the dark room and found me standing in the corner, praying, reciting from the Quran, glorifying Almighty God and abasing myself before Him. When they saw me in this state, Matruhina said: “This man is a sorcerer.” On hearing this, they all came in to look at me. Decianus went up to me and he and his servants gave me a violent beating, making me wish that I was dead. Then I blamed myself and said: “This is the reward of one who is proud and conceited because his Lord has granted him something which he could not achieve by himself. It was this pride and conceit that entered you, my soul. Didn’t you know that pride angers the Lord, hardens the heart and leads a man to hellfire?”

  ‘After they had beaten me, they put me back where I had been, in an underground chamber beneath that room. Every three days they would throw me a loaf of barley bread and give me some water, and every one or two months Decianus would come to the monastery. His daughter had now grown up. She was nine years old when I first saw her, and after the fifteen years I spent as a prisoner, she was twenty-four. Neither in our lands nor in those of Rum was there a more beautiful girl, but her father was afraid lest the king take her from him, as she had dedicated herself to the Messiah. Unequalled as she was in beauty, she would ride with her father dressed as a man, and no one who saw her would know that she was a girl. Her father had stored his wealth in the monastery, as this was used as a repository by all those who owned treasures. I saw in it more gold, silver and gems, as well as vessels and rarities, than any but Almighty God could count. You have more right to all this than these unbelievers, so take what is in the monastery and spend it on the Muslims, in particular those who fight in the Holy War. When these traders came to Constantinople and sold their goods, the picture on the wall spoke to them, this being a miracle with which God had honoured me. They then came to the monastery and killed the monk Matruhina, after having inflicted painful torture on him, pulling him by his beard until he showed them where I was. They took me and after that there was nothing that they could do except to
flee for their lives.

  ‘Tomorrow night, following her usual custom, Tamathil will go to the monastery and will be joined by her father and his servants, for he is afraid for her safety. If you want to see this for yourselves, take me with you and I shall hand over to you that wealth, together with the treasures of Decianus which are on that mountain. I saw them bringing out vessels of gold and silver from which to drink and I saw with them a girl who sang in Arabic – would that with her sweet voice she were to recite the Quran! If you would like to go and hide in the monastery until Decianus arrives with his daughter, you can take her, for she is fit for none but the sultan of the age, Sharkan, or King Dau’ al-Makan.’