When the month was over, he left the harem and took his seat on his royal throne, dispensing justice among his subjects. The time of the queen’s pregnancy passed and towards dawn on the last night of the ninth month she went into labour. She sat on the birthing stool; God granted her an easy delivery and she gave birth to a boy, who could be seen as marked out for good fortune. The king was overjoyed to hear of his son: he gave a huge sum of money to the bringer of the good news and, in his delight, he went to the child, kissed him between the eyes, and admired his radiant beauty, in which could be seen the truth of the poet’s lines:
In him God has provided the coverts of noble deeds
With a lion, and the horizons of kingship with a star.
At his rising, the spears smile, as do the thrones,
Assemblies, armies and the edges of the sword.
Do not mount him on a woman’s breasts;
To him a horse’s back will seem the most comfortable of carriages.
Wean him from milk, for he will come to think
The blood of his enemies to be the sweetest of all drinks.
The midwives then took the child, cut the umbilical cord and put kohl round his eyes, after which he was named Taj al-Muluk Kharan. He was suckled by the teats of indulgence and was nurtured in the lap of favour. Days passed and years went by until he was seven years old. Then Sulaiman Shah summoned the learned doctors and philosophers and told them to teach his son calligraphy, philosophy and literary culture. They stayed for a number of years doing that until the boy had learned all that was needed. When he had mastered what the king required him to know, he was removed from the care of the faqihs and teachers and given an instructor to teach him horsemanship. This instruction continued until he was fourteen.
Whenever he went out on any business, all who saw him were captivated by him.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and tenth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that Prince Taj al-Muluk became a skilled horseman, surpassing all living at that time. Because of his beauty, whenever he went out on any business, all who saw him were captivated by him, poems were composed about him and freeborn women were shamefully seduced by his love. He was as described by the poet:
I became drunk on the fragrance of scent,
Embracing a moist branch the zephyr nurtured.
The lover was drunk, but not on wine.
Rather it was the beloved’s saliva that intoxicated him.
All beauty is held captive by the beloved,
And because of that he holds sway over men’s hearts.
By God, I will never think of consolation for his loss
As long as I am held in the bonds of life or afterwards.
If I live, I live loving him, and if I die
Because of the passion of my love, death will be welcome.
When he reached the age of eighteen, greenish down spread over a mole on his red cheek, while a beauty spot like a speck of amber was set there as an adornment. He began to captivate minds and eyes, as the poet says:
He is a successor to Joseph in his beauty;
When he appears, lovers are filled with fear.
Turn aside with me and look at him
To see on his cheeks the black banner of the caliphate.
Another poet has said:
Your eyes have never seen a finer sight
In anything that can be seen,
Than the green mole upon the cheek,
Red as it is, beneath the dark eye.
A third has said:
I wonder at a mole that always worships your cheek’s fire,
But is not burned by it, infidel though it is.
More wonderful is that a message from his glance
Should confirm God’s signs, although he is a sorcerer.
How green is the crop that his cheek has produced,
Because of the many hearts it breaks.
Yet another poet has said:
I wonder at those who question where
The water of life is found to flow.
I see it on a slender gazelle’s mouth
With sweet red lips, covered by a dark moustache.
How strange, when Moses found this water
Flowing there, he was not content to wait.
When Prince Taj al-Muluk, enjoying such advantages, reached manhood, he became ever more handsome. He had a number of companions and favourites, and all his close associates were hoping that he would become king after his father’s death and that they would be his emirs. He became attached to hunting and the chase, spending every hour that he had in its pursuit. His father, Sulaiman Shah, tried to keep him away from it, since he was afraid of his son’s exposure to the dangers of the waste lands and wild beasts, but the prince would not accept any restraint.
It happened, then, that he told his servants to take with them provisions for ten days, which they did, and he left with them on a hunting trip. For four days they travelled through the wilds until they reached a spot overlooking a green land, where they saw wild beasts grazing, trees laden with ripe fruits and gushing springs. He told them to spread out their trapping ropes in a wide ring, while they themselves were to assemble at a particular spot at the head of the ring. They followed his orders, setting up the ropes in a wide circle, within which they enclosed wild beasts of many kinds, including gazelles. This caused a disturbance among the beasts, who stampeded in the face of the horses, and the prince then released the dogs, the lynxes and the falcons at them, followed by flights of arrows which inflicted mortal wounds. Before they could reach the head of the ring, many of the beasts were taken, while the rest fled.
Taj al-Muluk then dismounted by a stream, where he collected and distributed the game, setting aside the best portion for his father, Sulaiman Shah. He sent this off to him, while he assigned other portions to his principal officers, before spending the night there. In the morning a large merchant caravan arrived, with black slaves and servants. They halted in the green meadow by the water, and when he saw them, Taj al-Muluk told one of his companions to find out about them and to ask them why they were halting there. The man went to them and said: ‘Tell me who you are and answer quickly.’ They told him: ‘We are merchants and we have stopped here to rest, as we have a long way to go before we reach the next stage on our route. We have halted here because we have confidence in Sulaiman Shah and his son; we know that all who stay in his lands can expect safe conduct, and we have expensive materials with us which we have brought for Prince Taj al-Muluk.’
The messenger went back to the prince and told him about this, relaying what he had heard from the merchants. ‘If they have something that they have brought for me,’ said the prince, ‘I shall not leave this spot and enter the city until I have inspected it.’ He mounted his horse and rode off, with his mamluks behind him, until he reached the caravan. The merchants rose to greet him, offering prayers for victory and good fortune, as well as continued glory and honour. A tent had been pitched for him of red satin embellished with pearls and gems, in which a royal couch had been placed on a silk carpet, its front studded with emeralds.
Taj al-Muluk took his seat, with his mamluks standing in attendance on him, and he then sent word to the merchants, telling them to produce everything that they had with them. They came with their goods, all of which he inspected, choosing what pleased him and paying its full price. He then mounted, intending to set off, but on happening to glance towards the caravan, he saw a handsome young man, neatly dressed and elegant, with a radiant forehead and a face like a moon, although his beauty had altered and he showed the pallor of one who has been parted from his beloved.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and eleventh night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that Taj al-Muluk happened to glance towards the caravan. He saw a handsome you
ng man, neatly dressed and elegant, with a radiant forehead and a face like a moon, although his beauty had altered and he showed the pallor of one who has been parted from his beloved. Moaning and sobbing, with tears pouring down from his eyes, he recited:
We have long been parted; cares and passion never cease;
Friend, the tears flow from my eyes.
I took leave of my heart on the day of parting,
And I have remained alone with no heart and no hope.
Friend, stay with me as I take leave of one
Whose words can cure all sickness and all ills.
When he had finished speaking, the young man wept for a time and then fainted, with Taj al-Muluk looking on in amazement. When he had recovered, with a wounding glance he recited:
Beware of her glance, for it works sorcery,
And no one can escape who is shot by her eyes.
For all their languor, those dark eyes
Are sharp enough to split white swords.
Do not be deceived by her soft words,
For love’s fire can bemuse the mind.
She is softly formed; were silk to touch her body,
Blood would be drawn from it, as you can see.
How far it is between her anklets and her neck!
What fragrance rivals her sweet-smelling scent?
The young man then gave a groan and fainted. When Taj al-Muluk looked at him, he was baffled by his condition. He walked up to him, and when the young man had recovered consciousness, he saw Taj al-Muluk standing by his head. He rose to his feet and kissed the ground before him, after which the prince asked him why he had not shown him his merchandise. ‘There is nothing among my goods that is suitable for your excellency,’ the young man replied, but Taj al-Muluk insisted on being shown what he had, as well as on being told what was the matter with him, adding: ‘I see that you are tearful and sad. If you have been wronged, I shall right the wrong, and if you are in debt, I shall pay it, for it has pained me to see you like this.’
He then ordered chairs to be set out, and they fetched him one made of ivory and ebony, draped with gold-embroidered silk, and they spread out a silken carpet. Taj al-Muluk sat on the chair and told the young man to be seated on the carpet, after which he said: ‘Show me your goods.’ ‘Please don’t tell me to do that, master,’ said the young man. ‘My goods are not fit for you.’ Taj al-Muluk insisted, however, and told one of his servants to fetch them, whether or not he agreed. On seeing this, tears started from the young man’s eyes. He wept, groaned, complained and sighed deeply. Then he recited:
I swear by the coquetry and the kohl of your eyes,
By the soft lissomness of your form,
By the wine and honey of your mouth,
And by the gentleness and vexation of your nature:
There came an apparition sent by you, who are my hope,
Sweeter than safety for the craven coward.
He then opened up his goods and displayed them to Taj al-Muluk, one after the other, piece by piece. Among the things that he brought out was a satin robe with gold brocade worth two thousand dinars. When he unfolded this, a piece of material fell from the middle of it, which he quickly picked up and tucked beneath his hip. Then, in a daze, he recited:
When will the tortured heart find a cure for your love?
Union with you is farther than the Pleiades.
Distance, abandonment, longing and lovesickness,
Delay, postponement – this is how life passes.
Union does not bring life nor does abandonment kill me.
Distance does not bring me near, nor are you at hand.
It is neither fairness nor mercy that you show.
You do not help me, but I cannot flee from you.
All of my roads are blocked by love for you;
I cannot make out where I am to go.
Taj al-Muluk was astonished at this recitation and wondered at the reason for it, not knowing why the young man had picked up the scrap of material and put it under his hip. So he asked what this was. ‘You don’t need to see it, master,’ replied the young man, and when the prince insisted, he said: ‘This was the reason why I refused to show you my goods, and I cannot let you see it.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and twelfth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the young man said to Taj al-Muluk: ‘This was the reason why I refused to show you my goods, and I cannot let you see it.’ ‘I must see it,’ insisted Taj al-Muluk, and as he was growing angry, the young man drew it out from under his hip, weeping, moaning, complaining and uttering many groans. He then recited these lines:
Do not blame him, for blame is hurtful.
I spoke the truth, but he does not listen.
I ask God to keep safe for me in the valley camping ground
A moon that rises from the sphere of buttons.
I said goodbye to him, but I would have preferred it
Had pleasant life taken its leave of me before I did.
How often did he plead with me on the morning of departure,
As both my tears and his poured down.
May God not give me the lie; parting from him
Has torn my garment of excuse, but I shall patch it.
I have no bed on which to lie, nor, since I left,
Does any place of rest remain for him.
Time did its best with its rough hand
To ban me from good fortune and to ban him too.
This was the hand that poured out unmixed grief,
Filling the cup from which he drank what I gave him.
When he had finished, Taj al-Muluk said to him: ‘I see that you are in a wretched state, so tell me why it is that you weep when you look at this piece of material.’ When he heard the prince mention the material, the young man sighed and said: ‘Master, my story is a remarkable one and the affair that connects me with this material, its owner and the one who embroidered it with these shapes and images, is strange.’ At this, he unfolded the material and there on it was the picture of a gazelle embroidered in silk picked out with red gold, while opposite it was the picture of another gazelle, picked out in silver with a collar of red gold and three pendants of chrysolite. When Taj al-Muluk looked at this and saw its fine workmanship, he exclaimed: ‘Glory be to God for teaching man what he did not know.’ He then became passionately interested in the young man’s story and asked him to tell him how he was connected with the lady who had embroidered the gazelles.
‘Know, master,’ replied the young man, ‘that my father was one of the great merchants and I was his only son. I had a female cousin who was brought up with me in my father’s house, as her own father had died. Before his death, he had come to an agreement with my father that they should marry me to her. When we both reached puberty, she was not kept away from me and I was not kept away from her. My father then talked with my mother and said: “This year we shall draw up the marriage contract between ‘Aziz and ‘Aziza.” My mother agreed to this and my father started to lay in provisions for a banquet. While all this was going on, my cousin and I were sleeping in the same bed, in ignorance of all this, except that she knew more than I did, being better informed and more knowledgeable.’ he went on:
My father then completed the wedding preparations and nothing remained except for the contract to be drawn up and the marriage consummated. My father wanted the contract to be signed after the Friday prayer, and he went to his friends among the merchants and others and told them about this, while my mother went and invited her women friends and her relatives. When Friday came, they washed out the hall that was prepared for the reception, cleaning the marble and spreading carpets in the house. Everything needed was set out there; the walls were adorned with brocaded hangings, and it was agreed that the guests should come to our house after the prayer. My father went off to supervise the making of the sweetmeats and the sugared dishes, and as the only th
ing left was the drawing up of the marriage contract, my mother made me go off to the baths, sending after me a splendid new suit of clothes. I put these on when I came out of the baths and, as they were perfumed, a pleasant odour spread from them, scenting the air.
I had meant to go to the Friday mosque, but then I remembered a friend of mine and went back to look for him in order to invite him to the signing of the marriage contract, telling myself that this would keep me busy until close to the time of prayer. I went into a lane where I had never been before, and I was sweating because of my bath and also because of the new clothes that I had on. As the sweat ran down, the scent grew stronger and I rested on a bench at the head of the lane, spreading out an embroidered kerchief that I had with me to sit on. It grew hotter and although sweat covered my forehead and poured down my face, I could not wipe it away with the kerchief because I was sitting on it. I was about to use my gown when suddenly from above me a white kerchief fell, more delicate than the zephyr and more delightful to the eye than a sick man’s cure. I caught it in my hand and looked up to see where it had come from. My gaze then fell on that of the gazelle lady…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and thirteenth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE YOUNG MAN TOLD TAJ AL-MULUK:
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 65