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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

In her injustice she is a seduction,

  But were she just, this quality would increase.

  Tell her: ‘Your veiled face leads me further astray;

  To be unveiled, I see, better protects your beauty,

  Like the sun at which, when it shines clearly, none can look,

  But can be viewed wearing thin cloaks of cloud.’

  Young bees are guarded by the elders of the hive:

  Ask the tribe’s guards what is it that I seek.

  They may want my death, but they should now forget

  Their malice and allow us free passage.

  If they come out to fight, they cannot be

  More fatal than the glances of the lady with the mole,

  If she should show herself to me.

  When she had heard al-Amjad’s lines, she sighed deeply and, gesturing towards him, recited:

  It was you who turned away, not I.

  Grant union; the time for redeeming promises has come.

  The light of your gleaming face is like the break of dawn,

  While the locks of your hair provide night with a home.

  Your form, lovely as an idol, makes me a worshipper.

  You are temptation and for long have tempted me.

  No wonder that the fire of love consumes my heart;

  Fire is the rightful punishment of idol worshippers.

  You give away lovers like me for free,

  But if you must sell me, at least demand a price.

  When al-Amjad heard what she said, he asked her: ‘Will you come to me or shall I come to you?’ She looked down at the ground modestly and recited the words of Almighty God: ‘Men are the guardians of women, because of the superiority that God has granted to the one sex over the other.’* Al-Amjad grasped the point of her allusion…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that al-Amjad grasped the point of her allusion, and realized that she wanted to accompany him wherever he was going. He felt obliged to find a place for her, but he was ashamed to take her to his master, the tailor. He walked on ahead and she followed him, and he kept on going from lane to lane and from place to place until she got tired. ‘Master,’ she said, ‘where is your house?’ ‘In front of us,’ he replied, adding: ‘And it is not far now.’ Then he turned off into a pleasant lane and walked on, still followed by her, until he reached the end of the lane, which he discovered had no exit. ‘There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent!’ he exclaimed. He looked around and saw at the end of the lane a large door, flanked by two benches, but it was locked. So he took his seat on one of the benches while the girl sat down on the other. ‘What are you waiting for, master?’ she asked. For a time he looked down at the ground, and then, raising his head, he said: ‘I am waiting for my mamluk, who has the key. I told him to get me food and drink, as well as something to go with the wine, and to be ready for me when I came from the baths.’ To himself he said: ‘She may find it too long to wait and go off on her way, leaving me here, and then I can go on by myself.’

  When she grew tired of waiting, she said: ‘Master, your mamluk is slow in coming and we are left sitting in this lane.’ She went up to the bolt of the door, carrying a stone. ‘Don’t be hasty,’ said al-Amjad. ‘Wait until he comes.’ Paying no attention, she struck the bolt with the stone, splitting it in half and forcing the door open. ‘Why have you done this?’ asked al-Amjad. ‘Pooh,’ she said. ‘What of it? It’s your house.’ ‘Yes,’ replied al-Amjad, ‘but there was no need to break the bolt.’ The girl then went into the house, but al-Amjad stayed where he was, in a state of perplexity, fearful of the owners of the house and not knowing what to do. ‘Why don’t you come in, light of my eyes and darling of my heart?’ asked the girl. ‘To hear is to obey,’ he answered, ‘but the mamluk has been slow and I don’t know whether he has carried out any of the orders that I gave him or not.’

  He then went in with her, although he was still very fearful at the thought of the owners. On entering he found a fine hall with four facing alcoves containing small chambers and raised seats spread with silks and brocades. In the centre was a costly fountain, by which were set plates studded with gems and filled with fruits and scented flowers, while at the side were drinking glasses. There was also a candlestick with a candle, and the place was full of precious materials, with chests and chairs set out, and a package laid on each chair, on top of which was a purse filled with gold and coins. Judging by the house, its owner was a wealthy man, as its floor was paved with marble.

  Al-Amjad was taken aback when he saw this, saying to himself: ‘I am a dead man. We belong to God and to Him do we return.’ As for the girl, when she saw the place she was delighted and said: ‘By God, master, your mamluk didn’t fail. He has swept out the place, cooked the food and prepared the fruit. I have come at the best of times.’ Al-Amjad, who was preoccupied by his fear of the owners, paid no attention to her. ‘Pooh!’ she exclaimed. ‘My master and my heart, why are you standing like this?’ Then, with a deep sigh, she gave al-Amjad a kiss that sounded like a walnut being cracked, and said: ‘If you are expecting someone else, I’ll do my best to serve her.’ Al-Amjad laughed, with a heart full of anger, and he came and sat down, breathing heavily and saying to himself: ‘What a miserable death I shall die when the owner comes!’

  The girl sat beside him, laughing playfully, while he was frowning and full of care, turning things over and over in his mind and saying: ‘The owner of this place is bound to come and what am I going to say to him? He will certainly kill me and my life will be gone.’ The girl then got up, tucked up her sleeves, picked up a table, put a cloth on it and started to eat, telling al-Amjad to do the same. He came to the table to eat, but he couldn’t enjoy the food and kept looking towards the door. When the girl had had enough, she removed the table and, after bringing forward the fruit, she started on the dessert. Next, she brought out the drink, opened the wine-jar and filled a drinking cup, which she handed to al-Amjad. He took it from her, saying to himself: ‘Oh, oh, what will happen when the owner of the house comes and sees me?’

  As he held the cup in his hand, his eyes were fixed on the hallway, and it was just then that the owner arrived. He was a mamluk and, as the king’s equerry, he was one of the leading men of the city. He had got the room ready for his own pleasure as a place where he could relax in private with his chosen companions. That day, he had invited a youth whom he loved to visit him and it was for him that he had made these preparations. The mamluk’s name was Bahadur and he was open-handed, generous and liberal in conferring gifts and favours.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Bahadur, the owner of the house, was the king’s equerry. When he approached the door and found it open, he entered slowly and, peering in, he saw al-Amjad and the girl with a dish of fruit and a wine-jar in front of them. At that moment al-Amjad was holding the drinking cup, with his eyes fixed on the door. When his eyes caught those of Bahadur, he turned pale and began to tremble. Bahadur saw this change and put his finger to his mouth to show that he should say nothing but come over to him. Al-Amjad set down his cup and got up to go, and when the girl asked where he was going, he shook his head indicating that he wanted to relieve himself. He went out to the hallway barefooted and when he saw Bahadur he realized that this must be the owner of the house and hurried up to him. After having kissed his hands, he said: ‘In God’s Name, master, I implore you to do me no harm before you hear what I have to say.’ He then told him his story from beginning to end, including why he had left his own kingdom and the fact that he had not come into the hall of his own free will, adding that it was the girl who had broken the lock, opened the door and done it all.

  Bahadur
listened to the tale of his adventures and, realizing that he was a prince, felt sympathy for him and pitied him. ‘Listen to what I have to say, al-Amjad,’ he said. ‘Obey me and I shall guarantee not to punish you as you fear, while if you disobey me, I shall kill you.’ ‘Tell me to do whatever you want,’ replied al-Amjad. ‘I shall never disobey you, for it is your sense of chivalry that has set me free.’ ‘Go back to the room at once,’ said Bahadur. ‘Sit down quietly where you were before and I shall come in. My name is Bahadur and when I come to you, abuse me angrily and say: “Why are you so late?” Don’t accept any excuse from me, but get up and beat me. If you show pity for me, I shall kill you, so go and enjoy yourself. Whatever you now ask from me, I shall produce for you instantly; you may pass this night doing what you want and tomorrow you can go off on your way, this being the courtesy that is owed to you as a stranger. I love strangers and take it as my duty to honour them.’

  Al-Amjad kissed his hand and went back to the room, his face having recovered its pink and white colours. As soon as he came in, he said to the girl: ‘My lady, you have brought delight to this place by your presence here and this is a blessed night.’ ‘It’s a surprise that you’re being so friendly to me now,’ said the girl. ‘By God, my lady,’ he replied, ‘I thought that Bahadur, my mamluk, had taken some jewelled necklaces of mine, each worth ten thousand dinars. I was worrying about that when I went out just now, but when I looked for them I found them in their proper place; but I don’t know why he is so late and I shall have to punish him.’

  The girl relaxed when she heard what he had to say and the two of them toyed with each other and drank happily, continuing to enjoy themselves until the sun had almost set. It was then that Bahadur made his entrance, having changed his clothes, wearing a belt around his waist and, on his feet, coloured shoes such as mamluks wear. He greeted the two, kissing the ground and putting his hands behind his back while bending his head towards the ground in the attitude of someone who is acknowledging a fault. Al-Amjad looked at him angrily. ‘Vilest of mamluks,’ he said, ‘why are you so late?’ ‘Master,’ Bahadur replied, ‘I was busy washing my clothes and I didn’t know that you were here. We were supposed to meet in the evening, not in the day.’ ‘You are lying, you vile fellow,’ shouted al-Amjad, ‘and I shall have to beat you.’ He rose, threw Bahadur down on the ground, took a stick and began to beat him, but not hard.

  Then the girl got up and, taking the stick from him, she gave Bahadur an agonizingly painful beating that reduced him to tears. He cried for help and clenched his teeth as al-Amjad called to the girl to stop. She kept saying: ‘Let me work my anger off on him,’ until he snatched the stick from her hand and pushed her away. Bahadur got up, wiped his tears away and stayed for a time waiting on them, after which he tidied up the room and lit the candles. Every time he went out and in, the girl would abuse and curse him. Al-Amjad was getting angry with her and implored her in the Name of Almighty God to let him be, explaining: ‘He’s not used to this.’ The two of them continued to eat and drink, and were waited on by Bahadur, until midnight.

  Bahadur, tired out by serving them and by his beating, then fell asleep in the middle of the room, breathing heavily and snoring. The girl, who was now drunk, said to al-Amjad: ‘Get up. Take the sword that’s hanging there and cut off this fellow’s head, or else I’ll see that you die.’ ‘What has made you think of killing my mamluk?’ he asked. ‘It is only with his death that our pleasure will be complete,’ she answered, adding: ‘And if you don’t get up, I’ll get up myself and kill him.’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t do it,’ said al-Amjad. But she insisted: ‘It has to be done.’

  She took the sword, unsheathed it and was about to kill Bahadur when al-Amjad said to himself: ‘This man has done us a favour, given us shelter and treated us well, pretending to be my mamluk. How can we repay him by killing him? That can never be.’ So he said to the girl: ‘If my mamluk has to be killed, I have a better right to do it than you.’ He took the sword from her, raised his arm and struck her on the neck, severing her head from her body. The head fell on Bahadur, who woke and sat up, opening his eyes. He found al-Amjad standing sword in his hand, covered in blood, and then he looked and saw that the girl was dead. He asked al-Amjad what had happened to her and al-Amjad told him the story, saying: ‘She insisted on killing you, and this is her reward.’

  Bahadur got up, kissed al-Amjad’s head and said: ‘I wish you had spared her, but the only thing to do now is to get her out of here before morning.’ He tightened his belt, took the girl and wrapped her in a cloak, after which he put her in a pannier and lifted it up. ‘You’re a stranger here,’ he said to al-Amjad, ‘and you know no one. So sit where you are and wait for me until dawn. If I come back, I shall do you much good, and try my best to get news of your brother, but if I don’t, then you can be sure it is all up with me and so goodbye. The house and all the wealth and materials that it contains will be yours.’

  He picked up the pannier and left the room. Threading his way through the markets, he made for the road to the sea, in order to throw the dead girl into it, but when he got near, he turned to find himself surrounded by the wali and his officers. They were surprised to recognize him, but when they opened up the pannier they found the dead girl and so they seized him. They kept him in chains until morning, when they took him and the pannier, just as it was, to the king, whom they told what had happened. When the king saw the pannier, he was very angry and said: ‘Damn you, you are always doing this, killing people, throwing them into the sea and seizing all this wealth. How many have you managed to kill before this?’ Bahadur hung his head…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Bahadur hung his head towards the ground before the king, who cried out to him: ‘Damn you, who killed this girl?’ ‘My lord,’ Bahadur answered, ‘I killed her. There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent.’ In his anger, the king ordered him to be hanged.

  At the king’s command, the executioner took Bahadur off, accompanied by the wali, with his herald, who summoned the people throughout the city streets to come and watch the execution of the king’s equerry, and they paraded him around the streets and markets.

  So much for him, but as for al-Amjad, when dawn had broken and the sun had risen without Bahadur having returned, he said to himself: ‘There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent. What do you think has happened to him?’ While he was brooding about this, he heard the herald summoning the people to come and watch the execution of Bahadur, who was going to be hanged at midday. On hearing that, al-Amjad burst into tears and exclaimed: ‘We belong to God and to Him do we return! This man is going to lose his life unjustly for my sake. It was I who killed her. By God, this shall never happen.’

  He left the house, shutting it up behind him, and made his way through the middle of the city until he reached Bahadur. Standing in front of the wali, he said: ‘Sir, don’t execute Bahadur, who is innocent. By God, I was the one who killed her.’ When the wali heard this, he took both al-Amjad and Bahadur and brought them to the king, to whom he told what he had heard al-Amjad say. The king looked at al-Amjad and asked him if he had, in fact, killed the girl. When al-Amjad admitted this, the king said: ‘Tell me why you did this, and speak the truth.’ ‘Your majesty,’ replied al-Amjad, ‘mine is a strange and remarkable story, which, were it written with needles on the inner corners of the eye, would serve as a warning to those who take heed.’

  He then told the king his story, explaining what had happened to him and to his brother from start to finish. This filled the king with astonishment and he said: ‘I realize that you are to be excused.’ He then asked al-Amjad whether he would act as his vizier, to which al-Amjad replied: ‘To hear is to obey.’ The king presented both him and Bahadur with splendid robes of honour and to al-Amjad
he gave a fine house, together with eunuchs and servants, providing him with everything he needed, as well as assigning him pay and allowances, and telling him to search for his brother, al-As‘ad. Al-Amjad sat in the place of the vizier, gave his judgements with righteousness, appointed and dismissed officers, took in money and gave it away. He sent a crier throughout the lanes of the city, calling for information about his brother, al-As‘ad. For a period of days the crier went through the streets and markets, but without hearing any news or finding any trace of al-As‘ad.

  So much for al-Amjad, but as for al-As‘ad, the Magians kept on torturing him, night and day, morning and evening, for a full year, until the time of their feast drew near. The Magian Bahram then made preparations for a journey and got ready a ship.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the Magian Bahram made preparations for a journey and got ready a ship. He took al-As‘ad and put him in a chest, which he locked and had carried on board. At the time when this was being done, fate had decreed that al-Amjad should be standing, looking at the sea. He saw the cargo being loaded on to the ship; his heart fluttered and he told his servants to bring him his horse, after which he rode off with a number of his retainers, making for the sea. Standing by the Magian ship, he ordered his men to board and search it. This they did, going through the whole of it, but after finding nothing they went back and said so to al-Amjad. He remounted and rode off, heading for home. When he got there, he went into the palace in a state of dejection and, looking around, he saw lines of poetry written on a wall. They ran:

  My dear ones may be absent from my sight,

  But from my heart and mind they have not gone.