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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  They said: ‘Forget her and you will be given

  Twenty like her,’ but there is none like her,

  And I shall not forget.

  He slipped the paper into the box, which he sealed up, writing on its cover in Kufic script: ‘I am Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘, the Kufan.’ The old woman took the box, which he had put down in front of her, and after having taken leave of the two men, she set off back to the caliph’s palace. She brought her purchase to Nu‘m and placed the box in front of her. ‘You must know, lady,’ she said, ‘that a Persian doctor has come to our city and I have never seen anyone with a greater or more penetrating knowledge of diseases than him. After he had looked at the flask I brought him, I told him your name. He recognized your disease and prescribed medicine for you, and, on his instructions, his son made it up for you. Nowhere in Damascus is there a more handsome and graceful young man than this son of his, nor does anyone have a shop like his.’

  When Nu‘m took the box, she saw written on its cover the names of her master and his father. At that her colour changed and she said to herself: ‘There is no doubt that the owner of this shop has come to look for news of me.’ She asked the old woman to describe the young man for her. ‘His name is Ni‘ma,’ the woman said. ‘He has a scar on his right eyebrow; he was wearing splendid clothes and is a youth of the most perfect beauty.’ ‘Give me the medicine,’ said Nu‘m, ‘with the blessing of Almighty God and His aid,’ and, after taking and drinking it, she laughed and told the old woman: ‘This is a blessed medicine.’ She then searched in the box and saw the paper, which she opened and read. When she had understood its meaning, she was certain that here was her master, and this filled her with joy and delight.

  When the old woman saw her laughing, she said: ‘This is a blessed day.’ Nu‘m told her that she wanted something to eat and drink, at which she ordered the slave girls to bring out the tables and to produce splendid foods for their mistress. They did this, and while Nu‘m was sitting down to eat, in came ‘Abd al-Malik. He was delighted to see her sitting and eating, and the old woman said: ‘Commander of the Faithful, congratulations on the recovery of your slave girl, Nu‘m. This was because a doctor came to the city whose superior in the knowledge of diseases and medicines I have never seen. I brought her medicine from him, and she recovered after a single dose.’ ‘Take a thousand dinars,’ said the caliph, ‘and see that she gets medicines to cure her.’

  He then left, full of delight at Nu‘m’s recovery. The old woman went to the Persian’s shop, where she gave him the money and told him that the patient was the caliph’s slave girl. She handed him a note which Nu‘m had written, and this he passed on to Ni‘ma, who fell down in a faint when he recognized her handwriting. On recovering, he opened the note and found written in it: ‘From the slave girl who has been deprived of her delight, cheated, and parted from her heart’s darling. The arrival of your letter cheered and delighted me. It was as the poet said:

  The letter came; may the fingers that wrote it

  Be preserved for you, anointed with perfume.

  It was as though Moses had been returned

  To his mother, and Joseph’s robe taken to Jacob.’

  When Ni‘ma read this, tears flooded his eyes. The Persian said: ‘How can my son keep back his tears, when this is his slave girl and he is her master, Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘ of Kufa? The girl’s health is dependent on her seeing him, as the only illness from which she suffers is love for him.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the Persian said to the old woman: ‘How can my son keep back his tears, when this is his slave girl and he is her master, Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘ of Kufa? The girl’s health is dependent on her seeing him, as the only illness from which she suffers is love for him. Take these thousand dinars for yourself and I’ll give you more than that myself, but look on us with pity, as it is only you who can show us how to put this matter right.’ ‘Are you her master?’ the old woman asked Ni‘ma, and when he said that he was, she said: ‘You must be telling the truth, for she never stops talking about you.’ Ni‘ma then told her what had happened to him from beginning to end. ‘Young man,’ she said, ‘it is only through me that you will be able to meet her.’

  She then rode back immediately, and after going in to see Nu‘m, she looked at her face and laughed and said: ‘You have good reason to weep, my daughter, and to fall ill at being parted from your master, Ni‘ma.’ ‘The matter has been uncovered and you know the truth,’ said Nu‘m. ‘Be happy and cheerful,’ the old woman told her, ‘for, by God, I’ll bring the two of you together, even if it costs me my life.’ She then returned to Ni‘ma and told him: ‘I went back and met your girl and I found that her longing for you is greater than yours for her. The Commander of the Faithful wants to sleep with her, but she does not let him. If you are steadfast and stout-hearted, I’ll bring you together at the risk of my own life, and by means of a trick or a ruse I’ll get you into the caliph’s palace so that you can meet the girl, for she won’t be able to come out.’ ‘May God reward you well,’ said Ni‘ma.

  After saying goodbye to him, she went to Nu‘m and told her: ‘Your master is dying of love for you and he wants to come and meet you. What do you have to say about that?’ ‘I, too, am dying,’ replied Nu‘m, ‘and I want to meet him.’ At that, the old woman took Ni‘ma a bundle containing ornaments, jewellery and a woman’s dress. ‘Come with me somewhere we can be alone,’ she said, and he took her to a back room. When she had tattooed him, decorated his wrists and ornamented his hair, she dressed him as a slave girl with the most beautiful of slave girl’s finery, until he was like one of the houris of Paradise. When the old woman saw what he looked like, she called down blessings on God, the best of creators, adding: ‘By God, you are more beautiful than the girl.’ Then she told him to walk with his left shoulder forward and his right back, swaying his buttocks. He walked in front of her, following her instructions, and when she saw that he had learned how to walk like a woman, she told him: ‘Wait until I come for you tomorrow night, if God Almighty wills it, and I shall then take you and bring you to the palace. When you see the chamberlains and the eunuchs, be resolute. Bow your head and don’t say anything to anyone, for I shall do the talking for you, and success comes from God.’

  Next morning, she came and took him up to the palace, going in front, with Ni‘ma following after her. The chamberlain wanted to stop him entering, but the old woman said: ‘You most ill-omened of slaves, this is the slave girl of Nu‘m, the caliph’s favourite. How dare you stop her? Go on in, girl.’ Ni‘ma entered with her, and they went on until they got to the door leading to the palace courtyard. Then the old woman told Ni‘ma: ‘Go in with courage and steadfastness. Turn to your left, count five doors and enter the sixth, for that is the door of the place that has been prepared for you. Don’t be afraid, and if anyone speaks to you, don’t answer and don’t stop.’

  She accompanied him to the doors, but there she was confronted by the chamberlain whose duty it was to guard them. ‘What is this girl?’ he asked.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the old woman was confronted by the chamberlain, who asked: ‘What is this girl?’ ‘Our mistress wants to buy her,’ replied the old woman. ‘No one can go in without permission from the caliph,’ said the chamberlain. ‘Take her back; I shall not let her enter, for those are my orders.’ ‘Great chamberlain,’ answered the old woman, ‘see that you keep your wits about you. Nu‘m is the caliph’s slave girl to whom he is deeply attached. She has been restored to health, but he can scarcely believe it. She wants to buy this girl, so don’t stop her from going in lest Nu‘m hear that it was you who did this, in which case she may be angry with you
and suffer a relapse. Her anger may then cost you your head.’ She told Ni‘ma: ‘Go in, girl; don’t listen to this man, but don’t tell the queen that the chamberlain tried to stop you entering.’

  Ni‘ma, with his head bent downwards, entered the palace, but instead of turning left, as he had meant to do, by mistake he turned right. He had also meant to count five doors and enter the sixth, but, in fact, he counted six and went in the seventh. When he did this, he found a room spread with brocades, its walls covered with silken hangings patterned with gold. In it were censers of aloes wood, with ambergris and pungent musk, and at the end of the room he saw a couch covered with brocade. He sat down, looking at the extent of these riches, but he did not know what the future was destined to hold for him.

  While he was sitting there, thinking over his position, in came the caliph’s sister, together with her maid. When she saw him, she took him for a slave girl, and, going up to him, she asked who he was, what his business was and who had brought him in. Ni‘ma did not speak or give any answer and the lady said: ‘If you are one of my brother’s concubines and he is angry with you, I shall petition him and try to win his favour for you.’ Ni‘ma still made no reply, and so the lady told her maid to stand at the door of the room, letting no one enter. She herself went nearer and looked at Ni‘ma. His beauty astonished her and she said: ‘Tell me who you are, girl. What is your name and why did you come in here, for I have never seen you before in the palace?’

  When Ni‘ma still did not answer, she grew angry and put her hand on his chest. Finding no breasts, she was about to remove his clothes in order to find out what he was, when he said: ‘Lady, I am your mamluk; buy me; I ask for your protection, so protect me.’ ‘No harm shall come to you,’ she replied, ‘but tell me who you are and who brought you to my room.’ ‘O queen,’ he replied, ‘my name is Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘ of Kufa and I have risked my life for the sake of my slave girl, Nu‘m, whom al-Hajjaj took by a trick and sent here.’ ‘You won’t be harmed,’ the lady repeated, and she then called to her maid, telling her to go to Nu‘m’s room. The old woman had already gone there and had asked Nu‘m whether her master had come to her. ‘No, by God,’ said Nu‘m. ‘It may be that he made a mistake and went into the wrong room after losing his way,’ said the old woman. ‘There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent!’ exclaimed Nu‘m. ‘This is the end for us; we are lost.’

  They both sat plunged in thought, and while they were in that state the maid of the caliph’s sister came in. After greeting Nu‘m, she said: ‘My mistress invites you to visit her as her guest.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ said Nu‘m. ‘It may be that your master is with the caliph’s sister,’ the old woman said, ‘and that the affair has been uncovered.’ Nu‘m got up straight away and went to the caliph’s sister, who said to her: ‘This is your master sitting here with me. It appears that he mistook the room, but, if God Almighty wills it, there is no need for either of you to be afraid.’ When Nu‘m heard this, her fears were calmed and she approached her master, Ni‘ma. When he saw her…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when he saw her, he rose to meet her and each embraced the other, before falling down in a faint. When they had recovered, the caliph’s sister told them: ‘Sit down, so that we may work out how to escape from the difficulty into which we have fallen.’ ‘To hear is to obey, mistress,’ they said, ‘and it is for you to command.’ ‘By God,’ she said, ‘no harm shall ever come to you from me.’ She then told the servant to fetch food and drink, and when this had been done, they sat and ate their fill before starting to drink. As the wine cups passed around, so their sorrows left them. ‘I wish I knew what is going to happen,’ said Ni‘ma. The caliph’s sister then asked him: ‘Do you love your slave girl, Nu‘m?’ ‘My lady,’ he replied, ‘it is love for her that has brought me into my present mortal danger.’ She then asked Nu‘m whether she, for her part, loved her master, Ni‘ma. ‘It is love for him, my lady, that has wasted away my body and brought me from health to sickness,’ she replied. ‘Since you love each other,’ said the lady, ‘may no one part you. Take comfort and be at ease.’

  This gladdened the two lovers and Nu‘m called for a lute. When it was brought, she took it and tuned it, after which she struck up a melody to which she sang these lines:

  The slanderers insisted on parting us,

  Although they had no revenge to take from you or me.

  They launched their hostile words against our ears,

  And few there were to stand in my defence.

  I fought them with your eyes and through my tears

  And sighs, with sword and flood and fire.

  Nu‘m then passed the lute to Ni‘ma and asked him to sing them something. He took it, tuned it and struck up a melody to which he sang:

  The full moon would resemble you, had it no spots;

  The sun would be like you, could it not be eclipsed.

  Wonder strikes me, but how many wonders does love hold,

  With its cares, passion and distress?

  The way to my beloved I find short;

  How long it is when I must take my leave!

  When he had finished, Nu‘m filled a cup and handed it to him. When he had taken it and drunk it, she filled another, which she gave to the caliph’s sister. After she had drunk, she too took the lute and tuned it, tightening its strings, before reciting:

  Sorrow and grief are found within my heart,

  While violent love frequents my inmost parts.

  My wasted form is clear to see,

  For love has made my body sick.

  Filling the wine cup, she passed it to Ni‘ma, who drank, took and tuned the lute, and then recited:

  I gave my soul to him; he tortured it,

  And when I tried to free it from him, I could not.

  Grant to the lover what may rescue him

  Before he dies, as this is his last breath.

  The three kept on reciting poetry and drinking, to the accompaniment of the notes of the lute, but while they were enjoying themselves in pleasure and delight, suddenly in came the Commander of the Faithful. When they saw him, they got up and kissed the ground before him. He looked at Nu‘m, who was holding the lute, and said: ‘Praise be to God, Nu‘m, Who has cured you of your painful illness.’ Then he turned to Ni‘ma, who was still wearing his disguise, and he asked his sister who this slave girl was who was standing beside Nu‘m. His sister told him: ‘Commander of the Faithful, you have here a concubine slave girl, a friendly person, without whom Nu‘m will neither eat nor drink.’ She then recited:

  They are two opposites which, when they meet,

  Show separate beauties, for the loveliness of one

  Is set off by the beauty of its opposite.

  ‘By the Omnipotent God,’ said the caliph, ‘she is as lovely as Nu‘m. Tomorrow I shall give her a room of her own next to Nu‘m’s. I shall have carpets and furnishings brought out, and everything that is suitable for her will be taken to her for the sake of Nu‘m.’ His sister then called for food to be brought, which she presented to him. He ate it, sitting there in their company, and then, after filling a wine cup, he gestured to Nu‘m, inviting her to recite some poetry. She drank two glasses of wine, and then she took the lute and recited:

  When my companion pours me out again and then again

  Three cups in which the wine is heard to froth,

  I trail my skirts with pride, as though I were

  Your ruler, O Commander of the Faithful.

  The caliph was delighted and filled another wine cup, which he gave to Nu‘m, telling her to sing again. After drinking the cup, she touched the strings and recited:

  Noblest of all the people of this age,

  No one can claim equality with you.

  In grandeur and generosity you are unique,

 
A lord and king of universal fame.

  You are king of the kings of all the earth;

  You give great gifts with no angry reproach.

  May God preserve you in spite of your foes,

  With your star adorned by fortune and by victory.

  When the caliph heard these lines, he exclaimed: ‘Good, by God! By God, that is fine! Well done, Nu‘m; how eloquent you are and how clear is your exposition!’ The four of them continued to enjoy themselves cheerfully until midnight, and at that point the caliph’s sister said: ‘Listen, Commander of the Faithful. I have come across a story about a certain high official.’ ‘What is it?’ said the caliph, and his sister went on: ‘In the city of Kufa there was a young man named Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘. He had a slave girl whom he loved and who loved him. They had been reared as children together, but when they grew up and their love for each other had strengthened, Time afflicted them with misfortunes and decreed they should be parted. Traitors plotted against the girl, bringing her out of Ni‘ma’s house, where she was stolen. The thief sold her to a certain king for ten thousand dinars. Her love for her master was matched by his love for her, and so he left his family, his comforts and his house and set out to look for her. He found a way to meet her…’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Ni‘ma left his family and his country and found a way to meet her. ‘But,’ the caliph’s sister said, ‘although he succeeded in doing this at the risk of his own life, he and Nu‘m – for this was her name – had scarcely settled down to sit together when the king who had bought her from the thief surprised them and immediately ordered their execution. He had not acted justly by his own lights and had not waited before giving his judgement. What is your opinion, Commander of the Faithful, about the unjust behaviour of this king?’