They brought him out, and every mourner following him
Swooned, as did Moses when Mount Sinai was brought low.
They brought him to a tomb, and it was as though a grave
Was dug in the heart of every follower of the One God.
Before I saw your bier, I never thought to see
Mount Radwa carried on the hands of men,
And not before your burial in the earth
Did I see stars setting within the ground.
I call to one resting in an underground cell
Illumined by the radiance of his face.
Praise will undertake to restore his life to him,
For it is unfolded when he is hidden away.
On finishing his poem, Dau’ al-Makan wept, as did all those with him. He then approached the grave and threw himself on it in despair, while the vizier recited the lines of the poet:
You have left transience and won immortality,
As others did who lived before your time.
You parted from this world without misgiving,
And in its place you will be pleased with what you find.
You were a barrier against the foe
When the slender war arrows sought their marks.
I see this world as deception and as vanity;
Man’s greatest goal must be the search for truth.
May the Lord of the throne grant you the gift of Paradise,
And may the Guide give you a good seat there.
Because of you I find myself in sorrow;
Both west and east are saddened by your loss.
When the vizier had finished his poem, he wept bitterly and his eyes shed tears like rows of pearls. Then one of Sharkan’s boon companions came forward, shedding tears like rivers. He recalled Sharkan’s generous deeds and recited:
Where now is bounty, when your generous hand lies in the earth?
After your loss illness has worn away my body.
Leader of the camel litters, may you enjoy what you can see!
My tears have written lines upon my cheeks
For you to note with pleasure.
By God, I never told my inner heart of you,
Nor did your grandeur ever cross my mind
Without tears wounding the sockets of my eyes.
If I should look at anyone but you,
May passion tug at their reins as I try to sleep.
When the man had finished his poem, Dau’ al-Makan shed tears, as did the vizier Dandan, while the whole army wept noisily. They then dispersed to their tents, while Dau’ al-Makan went to Dandan and the two of them held a war council, which continued for a period of days and nights. Dau’ al-Makan, tormented by cares and sorrows, then said: ‘I would like to hear stories of people, accounts of kings and tales of infatuated lovers, in the hope that God might relieve the burden of care that has oppressed my heart, and put an end to my tears of mourning.’
The vizier said: ‘If it will cure your sorrow to listen to remarkable stories and tales of lovers in days gone by, together with others, this will be an easy matter as in the lifetime of your late father my only task was to tell tales and recite poetry. Tonight I shall cheer you by telling you the story of the lover and his beloved.’ When Dau’ al-Makan heard this, he fixed his heart on the vizier’s promise and thought of nothing but waiting for the night in order to hear what the vizier had to tell him about past kings and infatuated lovers. As soon as it was dark, he ordered the candles and lamps to be lit, and the necessary food and drink, as well as censers, to be brought. When this had been done, he sent for Dandan, who came, as well as for Bahram, Rustam, Tarkash and the grand chamberlain. When they were all there, he turned to Dandan and said: ‘Know, vizier, that now night has come and lowered its robes over us, we want you to tell us the stories that you promised.’ ‘Willingly,’ replied the vizier.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and seventh night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when King Dau’ al-Makan had summoned the vizier, the chamberlain, Rustam, Bahram and Tarkash, he turned to Dandan and said: ‘Know, vizier, that now night has come and lowered its robes over us, we want you to tell us the stories that you promised.’ ‘Willingly,’ replied the vizier, AND HE WENT ON:
You must know, O fortunate king, that what I have heard of the story of the lover and his beloved, the exchanges between them and the remarkable and wonderful things that happened to them, is capable of removing care from the heart and bringing consolation even in sorrows like those of Jacob. According to the tale, in the old days, behind the mountains of Isfahan, there was what was known as the Green City. Its king, Sulaiman Shah, was generous, beneficent, just, trustworthy, virtuous and kindly. Riders came to him from all quarters and his fame spread throughout the regions. For many years he lived in his kingdom, glorious and secure, but he had neither wife nor child. He had a vizier who shared with him the same generous attributes and one day he happened to send for this man. When he came, the king told him: ‘I am despondent; my patience is at an end and I am growing weak because I have no wife and no child. This is not a path to be followed by kings who rule over everyone, both high and low. These men take pleasure in leaving behind them children, adding both to their numbers and their preparedness, as the Prophet – may God bless him and give him peace – has said: “Marry, beget children and multiply, so that you may give me cause to boast over the nations on the Day of Judgement.” What is your advice, vizier? Give me good counsel as to what I should do.’
When he heard this, tears streamed down from the vizier’s eyes, and he replied: ‘King of the age, far be it from me to speak of what is a prerogative of the Merciful God. Do you want me to anger the Omnipotent Lord and so enter hellfire? Buy a slave girl.’ ‘You must know,’ replied Sulaiman, ‘that when a king buys a slave girl, he knows nothing of her rank or her birth. He does not know whether she is to be avoided as coming from humble stock, or whether she is nobly born and so can be taken as a concubine. If he lies with her, she may conceive and the child may turn out to be a tyrannical hypocrite and a shedder of blood. She is like a salt marsh, where the seeds that are sown produce bad and weak plants. Her child may expose himself to the anger of his Lord, neither carrying out His commandments nor turning from what He has forbidden. I am not going to be responsible for this by buying a slave girl. Rather, I want you to ask the hand of a royal princess for me, whose lineage can be traced and who is characterized by beauty. If you show me a Muslim princess of high birth and sound religion, I shall ask for her hand and marry her in front of witnesses, so as to win through that the approval of the Lord of mankind.’
‘Know, your majesty,’ said the vizier, ‘that, according to what I have heard, God has fulfilled your need and given you your desire.’ He went on to explain that King Zahr Shah, lord of the White Land, had a daughter of surpassing and indescribable beauty, unrivalled in her age. ‘She is perfectly made,’ he added, ‘symmetrically formed, with kohl-dark eyes, long hair, a slender waist and heavy buttocks. Seen from in front she fascinates, and seen from behind she kills. She ravishes both the heart and the eye, as the poet says:
She is slender, with a figure like the branch of a ban tree;
Neither sun nor moon can rival her in their rising.
Her saliva is like honey mixed with wine,
While in her mouth are pearls.
A houri of Paradise, built with slenderness,
Her face is lovely, with destruction in her glance.
How many of her victims died of grief,
While on the path of her love both fear and danger lie.
For my life she is death; I do not wish to mention her,
But if I die without her, my life has been of no avail.’
When he had finished describing the girl, the vizier said to King Sulaiman Shah: ‘My advice, your majesty, is that you should send to her father an intelligent envoy, experienced
in affairs and tested by time’s vicissitudes, to present him on your behalf with a courteous request for her hand. For she has no equal in the world, far or near. If you win her, you will win a lovely face as well as the approval of the Glorious Lord, for it is told of the Prophet – may God bless him and give him peace – that he said: “There is no monkery in Islam.” ’
The king was overjoyed by this. He relaxed with gladness, while his cares and sorrows left him. Going up to the vizier, he said: ‘Know, vizier, that no one shall undertake this mission but you, because of your consummate intelligence and your culture. Go to your house; put your affairs in order and be ready to start out tomorrow. Then ask for the hand of this girl on my behalf, for what you have said about her has preoccupied me – and do not come back to me without her.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied the vizier. He then went home and called for gifts of jewels and precious things fit for a king, together with whatever else was light to carry, but valuable. He collected Arab horses, mail coats made by Da’ud, and chests of treasure that defied description.
These were loaded on mules and camels, and the vizier set off, accompanied by a hundred mamluks, a hundred black slaves and a hundred slave girls, with flags and banners unfurled overhead. He had been ordered to return within a few days, and after he had gone, Sulaiman Shah was consumed by fire, his thoughts being centred night and day on his love for the princess. The vizier, meanwhile, travelled without a break, crossing deserts and wastes until he was within a day’s march of his goal. He halted by a river bank and, summoning one of his principal officers, told him to go quickly to King Zahr Shah with news of his arrival. ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied the man, before hurrying off to the city.
When he got there, it happened that the king was sitting in a pleasure garden by the city gate. Seeing the messenger enter and realizing he was a stranger, he ordered him to be brought before him. When he came, the messenger told him of the arrival of the vizier of the great king, Sulaiman Shah, lord of the Green Land and the mountains of Isfahan. This pleased Zahr Shah, who welcomed the man and took him with him to his palace. ‘Where did you leave the vizier?’ he asked. ‘I left him at dawn by the river bank,’ the messenger replied, ‘and he will reach you tomorrow – may God perpetuate His favours to you and receive your parents into His mercy.’ Zahr Shah then ordered one of his viziers to take most of his principal officers, his chamberlains, deputies and officers of state and go to meet his visitor as a show of respect for King Sulaiman Shah, whose authority extended throughout the land.
So much for Zahr Shah, but as for the vizier, he stayed where he was until midnight and then he set off for the city. When dawn broke and sunlight spread over the hills and valleys, before he knew it, there was the vizier of King Zahr Shah, together with the chamberlains, officers of state and the leading men of the kingdom, coming towards him. They met him some parasangs from the city, giving him good reason to believe his mission would succeed. He greeted those who had come to welcome him and they went on ahead of him until they reached the royal palace. They preceded him through the palace gate and led him on to the seventh hall, a place that was not to be entered by anyone on horseback, as it was close to the king.
The vizier dismounted and went on foot until he arrived in a lofty room, at whose upper end was a throne of marble studded with pearls and jewels. It had four elephant tusks as legs, and it was draped with green satin embellished with red gold, while over it was a canopy, set with pearls and gems. King Zahr Shah was seated on the throne with his officers of state standing in attendance on him. The vizier, when he came in and stood before him, plucked up his courage and spoke fluently and eloquently, with practised rhetoric.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and eighth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the vizier of King Sulaiman Shah came to King Zahr Shah, he plucked up his courage and spoke fluently and eloquently, with practised rhetoric. Gesturing politely to the king, he recited these lines:
He comes forward in his tunic, bending down,
Spreading the dew of bounty over harvest and the harvesters.
He casts a charm, and neither amulets nor spells
Nor magic can prevail against the glances of those eyes.
Say to the censurers: ‘Do not blame me
For staying so long without turning from his love.’
My heart betrays me and keeps faith with him,
While sleep loves him and has grown tired of me.
Heart, you are not the only one with tenderness;
Stay with him, leaving me in loneliness.
The one sound that delights my ears
Is praise I gather for King Zahr Shah.
Were you to spend the whole term of your life
In looking at his face, this would be wealth indeed.
When you select a pious prayer for him,
All those you meet will join in the ‘amen’.
If any hope to leave his kingdom for another,
I do not think such men to be Muslims.
When the vizier had finished his poem, King Zahr Shah called him up and showed him the greatest honour. He seated him beside him, smiled at him and favoured him with courteous words. The audience continued until morning, when a table was set in the audience chamber. Everyone ate their fill, after which the table was removed and they all left except for the officers of state. On seeing that the chamber had been emptied, the vizier rose to his feet, bowed to the king and kissed the ground before him. He then said: ‘Great king and noble lord, the mission on which I have come is one from which you should derive benefit and success. I am here as a messenger from King Sulaiman Shah, the just, the trustworthy, the virtuous and kindly, the lord of the Green Land and the mountains of Isfahan, to ask for the hand of your respected and high-born daughter. He has sent you an abundance of gifts and presents, and he wishes to become related to you through marriage. Do you want this, too?’
He then fell silent, waiting for the king’s reply. For his part, on hearing this, the king rose to his feet and then kissed the ground as a sign of respect, while those present were astonished and filled with amazement that he should abase himself before the vizier. He then called down praises upon God, the Glorious, the Generous, and said, while he was still standing: ‘Great and honoured vizier, listen to what I have to say. I am numbered among the subjects of King Sulaiman Shah and it will be an honour for me and the fulfilment of an aspiration to be related to him. My daughter is one of his slave girls, and this is my greatest wish, that he may be my treasure and support.’
He had the qadis and the notaries fetched to him, and they bore witness to the fact that King Sulaiman Shah had appointed his vizier to act as his deputy in the matter of his marriage, and that King Zahr Shah had gladly contracted his daughter to him. The qadis confirmed the marriage contract and prayed for the good fortune and success of both parties. The vizier then rose and produced the gifts and precious treasures, all of which he presented to the king, who, for his part, set about making preparations to send off his daughter. He treated the vizier with honour and entertained both high and low to banquets. The celebrations lasted for two months and nothing was omitted that might please the heart or delight the eye.
When everything that the bride might need had been prepared, the king ordered tents to be brought out and pitched outside the city. Fabrics were packed in chests; Rumi slave girls and Turkish maids were made ready; and the bride was given precious treasures and costly jewels to take with her. A palanquin of red gold, studded with pearls and gems, had been made for her, and twenty mules were assigned to her for the journey. The palanquin was like a chamber, the princess like a beautiful houri and her boudoir like one of the pavilions of Paradise. The treasures and money were packed up and loaded on to the mules and the camels. King Zahr Shah accompanied the party for three parasangs and then, after taking leave of the vizier and his companions, he went
back home, feeling joyful and secure.
The vizier, together with the princess, travelled on, retracing the stages of his previous journey, crossing deserts…’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and ninth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the vizier, together with the princess, travelled on, retracing the stages of his previous journey, crossing deserts and pressing on, night and day, until he was within a three-day march of his own country. He then sent word to Sulaiman Shah of the arrival of his bride, news which was quickly brought by his messenger. Sulaiman Shah was delighted; he rewarded the messenger with a robe of honour and ordered his troops to honour the bride and her entourage by filing in a grand procession, magnificently turned out with banners unfurled above their heads. The order was obeyed and a proclamation was made in the city that no girl kept in seclusion, respectable free woman or old woman broken by age should stay behind but that they were all to come out to meet the bride.
This they did and the great ladies among them exerted themselves to serve her. It was decided that she should be escorted to the royal palace by night and the officers of state agreed to adorn the road with decorations and to stand there until the bride had passed, preceded by her eunuchs, with the slave girls in front of her, wearing the robe that her father had given her. When she came, the troops flanked her on the right and the left. The litter continued on its way until it came near the palace and there was no one left who had not come to look at her. Drums were beating; lances were tossed in the air; trumpets sounded; perfume filled the air; banners fluttered; and horses raced one another until the procession reached the palace gate.
The servants then brought the palanquin to the door of the harem and the place was illumined by its splendour as every part gleamed with the ornaments that decorated it. At nightfall, the eunuchs opened the doors of the pavilion and took up their positions grouped around them. The bride then came surrounded by her slave girls like the moon among stars or a matchless pearl set among others on a string. She entered the bridal chamber, where a couch had been placed for her, made of marble studded with pearls and gems. She sat on it, and when the king came in, God caused love for her to enter his heart. He took her maidenhead, curing his own trouble and constraint, and he stayed with her for about a month, while she had conceived his child on the first night.
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 64