When she had finished these lines, she asked me to give her the material, which I did, and she spread it out and read what was written on it. When the time came for me to go, she said: ‘Go in safety, cousin, and when you leave her, recite the lines that I told you earlier and which you forgot.’ ‘Repeat them,’ I asked her, and so she did, after which I went to the garden, entered the room and found the girl waiting for me. When she saw me, she got up, kissed me and made me sit on her lap. We then ate, drank and satisfied our desires as before. When morning came, I recited to her the lines:
Lovers, by God, tell me:
What is the desperate one of you to do?
On hearing this, her eyes brimmed over with tears and she recited:
He must conceal his love and hide his secret,
Showing patience and humility in all he does.
I memorized this, pleased to think that I had performed the task set by my cousin. So I left and went back to her, but I found her lying down with my mother by her head, weeping over the state that she was in. When I entered, my mother reproached me for having left my cousin in poor health without asking what was wrong with her. When she saw me, my cousin raised her head, sat up and said: ‘ ‘Aziz, did you recite to her the lines that I told you?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and when she heard them, she wept and recited other lines for me, which I memorized.’ My cousin asked me to tell them to her and, when I did, she wept bitterly and produced these lines:
How can the young man hide it, when love kills him,
And every day his heart is breaking?
He tried to show fair patience but could only find
A heart that love had filled up with unease.
Then my cousin said: ‘When you go to her as usual, recite these lines that you have heard.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ I said, and, as usual, I went to the girl in the garden and no tongue could describe the pleasure that we had. When I was on the point of leaving, I recited the lines to her, and, on hearing them, her eyes brimmed over with tears and she recited:
If he finds no patience to conceal his secret,
Nothing will serve him better than to die.
I memorized the lines and set off home, but when I went in to see my cousin, I found her lying unconscious, with my mother sitting by her head. On hearing my voice, she opened her eyes and said: ‘ ‘Aziz, did you recite the lines to her?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and when she heard them, she wept and recited a couplet, beginning: “If he finds no patience.” ’ On hearing this, my cousin fainted again, and when she had recovered, she recited these lines:
I have heard, obeyed and now I die;
So greet the one who stopped this union.
May the fortunate enjoy their happiness,
While the sad lover has to drain the glass.
When night came, I went as usual to the garden, where I found the girl waiting for me. We sat down and ate and drank, made love and then slept until morning. Before leaving, I recited my cousin’s lines, and when she heard them, the girl gave a loud cry of sorrow and said: ‘Oh, oh, by God, the one who spoke these lines is dead!’ Then, in tears, she asked me whether that person was related to me, to which I replied that she was my cousin. ‘That is a lie, by God,’ said the girl. ‘If she had been your cousin, you would have loved her as much as she loved you. It is you who have killed her – may God kill you in the same way! By God, had you told me that you had a cousin, I would never have allowed you near me.’ I said: ‘She used to interpret for me the signs that you made to me; it was she who taught me how to reach you and to deal with you, and but for her I would never have got to you.’ ‘Did she know about us?’ she asked, and when I said yes, she said: ‘May God cause you to regret your youth as you have caused her to regret hers!’ Then she added: ‘Go and see her.’
So I left in a disturbed state and walked on until, reaching our lane, I heard cries of grief. When I asked about this, I was told: ‘We found ‘Aziza lying dead behind the door.’ I went into the house and when my mother saw me, she said: ‘It is you who are responsible for her loss and the guilt is all yours – may God not forgive you for her blood!’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and twentieth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE YOUNG MAN TOLD TAJ AL-MULUK:
I went into the house and when my mother saw me, she said: ‘It is you who are responsible for her loss and the guilt is all yours – may God not forgive you for her blood! What a bad cousin you are!’ My father then came and we prepared ‘Aziza for her funeral and then brought her out, accompanying her bier and burying her. We arranged for recitations of the whole Quran to be given over her grave, and we stayed there for three days before returning and going home.
I was grieving for her when my mother came to me and said: ‘I want to know what you were doing to ‘Aziza to break her heart. I kept on asking her about the cause of her illness but she wouldn’t tell me anything. I conjure you in God’s Name to let me know how it was that you led her to her death.’ ‘I didn’t do anything,’ I replied.
‘May God avenge her on you,’ she said, ‘for she told me nothing and concealed the matter from me until the time of her death. She approved of you; I was with her when she died and she opened her eyes and said: “Aunt, may God not hold your son responsible for my death and may He not punish him for what he has done to me. God has moved me from the lower world of transience to the eternal world.” “Daughter,” I said, “may you enjoy your youth in well-being,” and I started to ask what had caused her illness. At first she said nothing, but then she smiled and said: “Aunt, tell your son that if he wants to go to the place where he goes every day, when he leaves he is to say: ‘Loyalty is good; treachery is bad.’ In this I am showing pity for him, so that I may be seen to have been sympathetic to him both in my life and after my death.” Then she gave me something for you and made me swear that I would not hand it over to you until I had seen you weeping for her and mourning her. I have the thing with me and when I see you doing what she said, I shall give it to you.’
I told her to show it to me, but she refused, and I then occupied myself with my own pleasures, with no thought of my cousin’s death, because I was light-headed with love and wanted to spend every night and day with my beloved. As soon as I was certain that night had come, I went to the garden and found the girl sitting waiting for me, on fire with anxiety. As soon as she saw me, she embraced me, hugging me round the neck and asking me about my cousin. ‘She is dead,’ I replied, ‘and we held a dhikr ceremony for her, as well as recitations of the Quran. She died four nights ago and this is the fifth.’ When the girl heard this, she cried out and wept. Then she said: ‘It was you who killed her and had you told me about her before her death, I would have repaid her for the good that she did me. For she did me a service by bringing you to me. Had it not been for her, the two of us would never have met and I am afraid that some disaster may strike you because of her wrongful death.’ I told her: ‘Before her death she absolved me from blame,’ and then I repeated for her what my mother had told me. She then conjured me in God’s Name to go to my mother and find out what ‘the thing’ was that she was holding. I said: ‘My mother told me that before she died my cousin had given her instructions, saying: “When your son is about to go to the place that he is in the habit of visiting, quote these two sayings to him: ‘Loyalty is good; treachery is bad.’ ” ’ When the girl heard this, she said: ‘May God Almighty have mercy on her. She has saved you from me, for I had intended to harm you and now I shall not, nor shall I stir up trouble for you.’
I was surprised by this and asked what she had been intending to do to me before hearing these words, in view of the love that we had shared. She said: ‘You are in love with me, but you are young and simple, and there is no deceit in your heart, so you don’t know our wiles and our deceitfulness. Had your cousin lived, she would have helped you, for it is she who has saved you an
d preserved you from destruction. I advise you now not to speak to any woman and not to talk with any of us, young or old. Beware, beware, for in your inexperience you know nothing of the deceit of women and their wiles. The one who used to interpret signs for you is dead and I am afraid that you may meet with a disaster from which you will find no one to save you, now that your cousin is dead.’
Nights 121 to 140
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and twenty-first night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE YOUNG MAN TOLD TAJ AL-MULUK:
The girl told me that she was afraid that I would meet with a disaster from which no one would save me. ‘Alas for her! I wish that I had known her before her death, so that I might have repaid her for the good that she did me, and visited her – may Almighty God have mercy on her. She kept her secret hidden and did not reveal her feelings. Had it not been for her, you would never have got to me.’ She then said that she wanted me to do something, and when I asked what it was, she said: ‘I want you to take me to her tomb, so that I may visit her in her grave and write some verses on it.’ ‘Tomorrow, God willing,’ I replied. Then I slept with her that night, and after every hour she would say: ‘I wish you had told me about your cousin before her death.’ I asked her about the meaning of the two sayings: ‘Loyalty is good; treachery is bad,’ but she did not reply.
In the morning, she got up and, taking a purse with some dinars in it, she said: ‘Get up and show me her grave so that I may visit it and inscribe these verses. I shall have a dome made over it, pray God have mercy on her, and I shall spend this money on alms for her soul.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ I said, and we walked off, I in front and she behind me, and as she walked she kept distributing alms, saying every time she did so: ‘These are alms for the soul of ‘Aziza, who kept her secret hidden, without revealing her love, until she drank the cup of death.’ She kept on giving away money from her purse and saying: ‘This is for the soul of ‘Aziza,’ until the purse was empty.
We came to the grave and when she saw it, she burst into tears and threw herself down on it. Then she produced a steel chisel and a light hammer, and with the chisel she carved on the headstone of the grave in small letters the following lines:
In a garden I passed a dilapidated grave,
On which grew seven red anemones.
‘Whose is this grave?’ I asked. The earth replied:
‘Show respect; this is a lover’s resting place.’
I said: ‘God guard you, you who died of love,
And may He house you in the topmost heights of Paradise.
How sad it is for lovers, that among mankind
Their graves are covered by the soil of lowliness.
If I could, I would plant a garden around you
And water it with my flowing tears.’
She then left in tears and I went with her to the garden. ‘Never leave me,’ she said, ‘I conjure by God.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ I replied, and I devoted myself to her, visiting her again and again. Whenever I spent the night with her, she would be kind to me and treat me well. She would ask me about the two sayings which my cousin ‘Aziza had quoted to my mother and I would repeat them to her. Things went on like this with food and drink, embraces and hugs and changes of fine clothes, until I grew stout and fat. I had no cares or sorrows and I had forgotten my cousin.
This went on for a whole year. At the start of the new year, I went to the baths, groomed myself and put on a splendid suit of clothes. On coming out, I drank a cup of wine and sniffed at the scents coming from my clothes, impregnated as they were with various types of perfume. I was relaxed, not knowing the treachery of Time and the disasters that it brings. In the evening, I felt the urge to visit the girl, but I was drunk and didn’t know where I was heading. I set off on my way to her but in my drunkenness I strayed into what was called the Naqib’s Lane. While I was walking there, I suddenly saw an old woman walking with a lighted candle in one hand and, in the other, a folded letter.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and twenty-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE YOUNG MAN TOLD TAJ AL-MULUK:
When I entered the Naqib’s Lane, I caught sight of an old woman walking with a lighted candle in one hand and, in the other, a folded letter. I went up to her and found that she was weeping and reciting these lines:
Greetings and welcome to the messenger who brings news of consent;
How sweet and pleasant are the words you bear,
Sent as you are by one whose greeting is dear to me;
May God’s peace rest on you as long as east winds blow!
When she saw me, she said: ‘My son, can you read?’ Inquisitiveness prompted me to reply: ‘Yes, old aunt.’ ‘Take this letter, then,’ she said, ‘and read it for me.’ She handed it to me and I took it from her, opened it up and read it to her. It contained greetings sent by the writer from a distant land to his loved ones. When the old woman heard this, she was happy and delighted; she blessed me and said: ‘May God banish your cares as you have banished mine.’ She took back the letter and walked on for a little. My bladder was overfull and I squatted down to relieve myself, after which I got up again, wiped myself, and after arranging my clothes, I was about to walk on when the old woman suddenly came back, bowed her head over my hand and kissed it. ‘Master,’ she said, ‘may God allow you to enjoy your youth. I hope that you will walk a few steps with me to that door there. I told them what you said to me when you read the letter, but they didn’t believe me. So walk a little way with me and read out the letter for them from behind the door, and accept my devout prayers.’
‘What is the story behind this letter?’ I asked. ‘Master,’ she replied, ‘it comes from my son, who has been away for ten years. He went off to trade and stayed so long in foreign parts that we had abandoned hope of him and thought that he must be dead, until, some time ago, this letter came from him. He has a sister who has been weeping for him night and day. I told her that all was well with him but she didn’t believe me and told me: “You must fetch someone to read the letter in my presence, so that I may be reassured and happy.” You know, my son, that lovers are prone to suspicion, so do me the favour of going with me and reading her the letter. You can stand behind the curtain and I will call his sister to listen from inside the door. In this way you will free us from anxiety and fulfil our need. The Apostle of God – may God bless him and give him peace – said: “If anyone relieves an anxious man of one anxiety in this world, God will relieve him of a hundred,” while another hadith says: “Whoever relieves his brother of one anxiety in this world, God will relieve him of seventy-two on the Day of Judgement.” I have sought you out, so please don’t disappoint me.’
I agreed and told her to lead the way, which she did, with me following behind. We went a little way before arriving at the door of a fine, large house, the door itself being plated with copper. I stood behind it, while the old woman called out in Persian and before I knew what was happening, a girl came out lightly and briskly, with her dress tucked up to her knees. I saw a pair of legs that bewildered thought and sight. She was as the poet described:
You gird up your dress to show lovers your legs,
So they may understand what the rest of you is like.
You hurry to fetch a glass for the lover;
It is the glass and the legs that capture them.
These legs, like twin pillars of marble, were adorned with golden anklets set with gems. Her outer robe was bunched up beneath her armpits, and her sleeves were drawn back from her forearms so that I could see her white wrists. On her arms were two bracelets, fastened with large pearls; round her neck she wore a necklace of precious gems; she had pearl earrings and on her head was a brocaded kerchief studded with precious stones. She had tucked the ends of her skirt into her waistba
nd as though she had been busy with some task, and when I saw her, I stared in astonishment at what looked like the bright sun. In a clear, pleasant voice – I had never heard a sweeter – she asked: ‘Mother, is this the man who has come to read the letter?’ ‘Yes,’ said her mother, and so the girl stretched out her hand to me with the letter in it. She was standing some six feet or so from the door, and when I put out my hand to take the letter from her, I put my head and shoulders inside the door to get nearer her in order to read it.
As I took the letter in my hand, all of a sudden the old woman butted me in the back with her head, and before I knew what was happening, I found myself inside the hallway. Quicker than a flash of lightning, the old woman came in and the first thing she did was to lock the door.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and twenty-third night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE YOUNG MAN TOLD TAJ AL-MULUK:
The old woman butted me and before I knew it I was inside the hall. Quicker than lightning, the old woman came in and the first thing she did was to lock the door. The girl, seeing me in the hallway, came up to me and clasped me to her breast. She then threw me down on the ground and straddled my chest, pressing my stomach with her hands until I almost lost my senses. She took my hand and the violence of her embrace was such that I couldn’t free myself. The old woman then went ahead of us, carrying a lighted candle, as the girl took me through seven halls, bringing me at last to a large chamber with four galleries, big enough to serve as a polo ground.
She let me go and told me to open my eyes. I was still dizzy from the strength of her embraces, but I opened my eyes and I saw that the whole chamber had been built of the finest marble, and all its furnishings were of silk or brocade, as were the cushions and the coverings. There were two brass benches and a couch of red gold set with pearls and gems, together with other parlours and a princely chamber fit only for a king such as you.
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 68