‘This is a remarkable affair,’ said the caliph, ‘and the king who had the power should have pardoned them. He should have borne in mind three things: the first, that they were lovers; the second, that they were in his palace and in his power; and the third, that kings should act slowly in judging their subjects and all the more should they do this in their personal affairs. The king did not act in a manner befitting his rank.’ ‘Brother,’ said his sister, ‘by the King of heaven and earth, I ask you to tell Nu‘m to sing and to listen to her song.’ ‘Sing, Nu‘m,’ said the caliph, and so she struck up a tune and recited these lines:
Time, the ever-faithless, has been false to me.
It wounds hearts fatally and leaves a legacy of care.
It parts lovers, after they have been joined,
And then you see that tears pour down their cheeks.
There was the one I loved and there was I;
My life was pleasant, with Time uniting us.
Let me now pour out blood and tears in floods,
As I must grieve for you by night and day.
These lines filled the caliph with delight. His sister told him: ‘Whoever passes any judgement must abide by it himself and act in accordance with his word. You have given this judgement against yourself.’ She then told both Ni‘ma and Nu‘m to stand up and went on: ‘The girl standing here, Commander of the Faithful, is the kidnapped Nu‘m, who was stolen by al-Hajjaj ibn Yusuf al-Thaqafi. He sent her to you and lied in the claim that he made in his letter that he had bought her for ten thousand dinars. Standing beside her is her master, Ni‘ma ibn al-Rabi‘. I beg you, by the sanctity of your pure ancestors, Hamza, al-‘Aqil and al-‘Abbas, to pardon them, to forgive their fault and to give them to one another so that you may win a heavenly reward for them. They are in your power and they have eaten your food and drunk your wine. I intercede for them and ask for the boon of their lives.’ ‘You are right,’ said the caliph, ‘I did give that judgement and I shall not make a decision and then go back on it.’
Then he said: ‘Nu‘m, is this your master?’ ‘Yes, Commander of the Faithful,’ she replied. ‘No harm shall come to the two of you, for I have given you to one another,’ he told her. Then he asked Ni‘ma: ‘How did you find out where she was and who described this place for you?’ ‘Listen to the story of what happened to me, Commander of the Faithful,’ said Ni‘ma, ‘for I swear by the line of your pure ancestors that I shall conceal nothing from you.’ He then told the caliph what had happened to him, and what both the Persian doctor and the old woman had done for him, including how she had brought him into the palace and how he had then mistaken the doors. The caliph, filled with astonishment, ordered the Persian to be fetched. When this was done, he made him one of his personal attendants, giving him robes of honour, together with a handsome present, saying: ‘It is right that the man who made this plan should be enrolled among our intimates.’ He showed favour to Ni‘ma and Nu‘m, showering them with benefits and treating the old woman in the same way.
They stayed with him for seven days in the fortunate enjoyment of a life of ease, and then Ni‘ma asked for permission to leave with Nu‘m. When permission had been granted them to travel to Kufa, they set off, and there they rejoined Ni‘ma’s father and mother. They remained there, enjoying the most pleasant and easiest of lives, until they were visited by the destroyer of delights and the parter of companions.
When al-Amjad and al-As‘ad heard Bahram’s story, they were filled with astonishment and said: ‘This is a remarkable tale.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and forty-seventh night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when al-Amjad and al-As‘ad heard this story from Bahram, the converted Magian, they spent the night filled with astonishment. The next morning, they rode out with the intention of going to see the king. They asked permission to enter his presence and, when this had been granted and they had gone in, he treated them courteously and they sat talking. While they were doing this, suddenly the townsfolk could be heard shouting, screaming and calling for help. The chamberlain came with news that another king had brought down his army against the city. They were brandishing their weapons, but no one knew what they wanted. The king passed on the chamberlain’s news to al-Amjad, his vizier, and to al-As‘ad, his brother. Al-Amjad said: ‘I shall go out to this king and find out what is happening.’ He went out of the city and found the ‘king’ with many men and mounted mamluks. When they saw him, they realized that he must be an envoy from the ruler of the city and so they brought him before their commander.
When he came in, he kissed the ground before ‘him’, only to discover that the ‘king’ was a queen, wearing a mouth-veil. She told him: ‘Know that I have no intention of taking your city, and the only reason that I am here is to look for a beardless slave. If I find him with you, I shall do you no harm, but if I don’t, there will be bloody war between us.’ ‘What is this mamluk like, your majesty?’ asked al-Amjad. ‘What is his history and what is his name?’ ‘His name is al-As‘ad and mine is Marjana,’ replied the queen. ‘He came to me with Bahram, the Magian, and as Bahram refused to sell him to me, I removed him by force, but Bahram stole him away from me in a night raid.’
She proceeded to describe al-As‘ad, and when he heard all the details, al-Amjad realized that this must be his brother. ‘Queen of the age,’ he said, ‘praise be to God, Who has brought us relief! This mamluk is my own brother.’ He then told her his own story, covering what had happened to him and his brother after they had left home, and why they had left the Ebony Islands. Marjana was astonished at that but was delighted to have found al-As‘ad. She gave a robe of honour to al-Amjad, who returned and told the king what had happened. The news was received joyfully, and the king, together with al-Amjad and al-As‘ad, came down to meet the queen. When they entered her presence they sat talking, but while they were doing this a dust cloud spread suddenly until it had covered the horizons. When it had cleared away, an army could be seen, huge as a swelling sea, clad in mail and carrying weapons. They advanced on the city until they had surrounded it as a ring surrounds the finger, with drawn swords. Al-Amjad and al-As‘ad said: ‘We belong to God and to Him do we return. What is this enormous army? They have to be enemies, and unless we can get this queen, Marjana, to agree to fight against them, they will take our city and kill us. The only thing that we can do is to go and find out about them.’
Al-Amjad then got up, went through the city gates, and after passing beyond Marjana’s men and reaching the strange army, he found that it belonged to his grandfather, King al-Ghayur, the father of Queen Budur…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and forty-eighth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when al-Amjad reached the army, he found that it belonged to his grandfather, King al-Ghayur, the lord of the islands and the seas and the seven castles. When al-Amjad came before the king, he kissed the ground in front of him and gave him the message that he was carrying. The king told him: ‘My name is al-Malik al-Ghayur, and I am passing by, as fate has robbed me of my daughter Budur, who left me and never came back. I have heard no word of her or of her husband, Qamar al-Zaman. Do you have any information about them?’
On hearing this, al-Amjad looked down at the ground for a time, thinking the matter over. Then, when he was convinced that this was his maternal grandfather, he raised his head, and after kissing the ground before him, he told him that he was Budur’s son. When the king heard that this was his grandson, he threw himself on him and both of them burst into tears. ‘Praise be to God that you are safe, my son,’ said the king, ‘and that I have met you.’ Al-Amjad then told him that Budur, his daughter, was well, as was his own father, Qamar al-Zaman, and that they were living in the city of the Ebony Island. He also told him how his father, in a rage, had ordered bo
th him and his brother to be put to death, and how the treasurer had pitied them and left them alive. ‘I shall go back with you and your brother to your father and make your peace with him,’ said al-Ghayur, ‘and then I shall stay with you.’
Al-Amjad kissed the ground before him in his delight, and after the king had given him a robe of honour, he returned smiling to his master and told him about al-Malik al-Ghayur. This astonished the Magian king, who sent out guest provisions in the form of sheep, horses, camels, fodder and so on. He made a similar gift to Queen Marjana, who, on being told what had happened, said that she would go with them, taking her troops, and would help to produce a reconciliation. While they were occupied like this, suddenly a cloud of dust rose up, filling the horizons and darkening the daylight. From beneath it they could hear cries, shouts and the whinnying of horses, and they saw flashing swords and levelled spears. When the newcomers neared the city and saw the two armies there, they beat their drums. On seeing that, the king of the city exclaimed: ‘This is a blessed day. Praise be to God, Who reconciled us with these two armies, and if it is His will, He will reconcile us with this one as well.’
He then spoke to al-Amjad and al-As‘ad and said: ‘Go and find out about these troops, for I have never seen a larger army.’ The two set off, and as the city gates had been shut on the king’s orders, for fear of the encircling force, they had to be opened to let them go on their way. They discovered, on reaching it, that the army which had arrived was huge, and when they entered it they found that it belonged to the king of the Ebony Islands and that in it was their father, Qamar al-Zaman. When he saw them, he threw himself on them, weeping bitterly. He excused himself and clasped them to his breast in a long embrace, after which he told them of the extent of the loneliness which he had had to endure after he had parted from them. The two brothers told him of the arrival of al-Ghayur, and he mounted with his personal retinue and, taking al-Amjad and al-As‘ad with him, rode off to al-Ghayur’s army. One of his men rode ahead to the king to tell him that Qamar al-Zaman had come, at which he came out to meet him, and when they had met, they told of their surprise at how they had come together there. The townspeople provided a feast for them, producing foods and sweetmeats of all kinds, and then gave them horses, camels, guest provisions and fodder, together with everything that armies need.
While this was going on, yet another dust cloud arose, blocking the horizons, and the earth trembled under the hooves of horses, while drums sounded like the blasts of storm winds. There was an army, fully equipped with coats of mail, all dressed in black, and in the middle of them a very old man with a beard that reached down to his chest, also dressed in black. When the townspeople saw these vast forces, the king said to the other rulers: ‘Praise be to Almighty God by Whose permission you have met together on the same day and have turned out all to know each other. But what is this huge army that stretches across the land?’ The others said: ‘There is no need to fear it. We are three rulers, each with a large force, and if these are enemies, we would join you in fighting them, even if they were three times as many.’
While they were talking, an envoy from the newcomers came up, making for the city. He was taken before Qamar al-Zaman, al-Ghayur, Queen Marjana and the king of the city. After having kissed the ground, he said: ‘My king has come from the lands of the Persians. Years ago he lost his son and he is travelling through the lands in search of him. If he finds him with you, he will do you no harm, but if he does not, then there will be war between him and you, and he will destroy your city.’ ‘It will not come to that,’ said Qamar al-Zaman, ‘but what is your king’s title in the land of the Persians?’ The envoy replied: ‘He is called King Shahriman, lord of the Khalidan Islands. He has collected these troops from the regions through which he has passed in his search for his son.’
When Qamar al-Zaman heard what the messenger said, he gave a loud cry and fell down in a faint. He remained unconscious for some time, and when he recovered, he wept bitterly, before telling al-Amjad and al-As‘ad, with their personal guards: ‘Go with the envoy, my children, and greet your grandfather, my father, King Shahriman. Give him the good news that I am here, for he has been grieved by my loss and is still wearing black for my sake.’ He then told the assembled kings everything that had happened to him in the days of his youth, to their great astonishment. They then accompanied Qamar al-Zaman to his father. Qamar al-Zaman greeted him and they embraced each other, before falling down in a faint from excessive joy. When they had recovered, Qamar al-Zaman told his father all that had happened to him, and the other kings gave him their greetings. They then sent Marjana home, after having married her to al-As‘ad, telling her to keep in touch with them by means of letters. When she left, they married al-Amjad to Bustan, the daughter of Bahram. They all then set out for the Ebony City, where Qamar al-Zaman went to his father-in-law, Armanus, and told him everything that had happened to him, including how he had been reunited with his sons. This delighted Armanus, who congratulated him on his safe return. Queen Budur’s father, al-Ghayur, went to his daughter, greeted her and satisfied the longing that he felt for her.
They remained for a full month in the Ebony City, after which al-Ghayur set off for his own land, taking his daughter with 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-ninth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that al-Malik al-Ghayur set off for his own land with his men, taking his daughter with him. Al-Amjad accompanied them on this journey, and when al-Ghayur was again settled in his kingdom, it was al-Amjad, his grandson, whom he appointed ruler in his place. Similarly, Qamar al-Zaman set his son al-As‘ad in his own place as ruler in the city of his grandfather, Armanus, with Armanus’s approval. He himself then made his preparations and left with his father, King Shahriman. When they got to the Khalidan Islands, the city was adorned with decorations in their honour and drums were beaten for a whole month to give the good news. Qamar al-Zaman then ruled in his father’s place until they were visited by the destroyer of delights and the parter of companies. God knows better.
‘Shahrazad,’ said the king, ‘this is a wonderful story.’ ‘O king,’ she replied, ‘it is no more wonderful than the tale of ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’l-Shamat.’ ‘And what was that tale?’ asked the king. shahrazad went on:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that in the old days there was once a Cairene merchant named Shams al-Din, one of the best and most truthful of men, who owned eunuchs, servants, slaves, slave girls and mamluks, and was possessed of vast wealth. He was the syndic of the merchants in Cairo. He had a wife whom he loved and who loved him, but he had lived with her for forty years without her having provided him with either a daughter or a son. One day, as he sat in his shop, he looked around at the other merchants, every one of whom had one, two or more sons, and these sons were seated in their shops like their fathers. As the day was a Friday, he went to the baths and performed the Friday ablution. When he came out, he took a barber’s mirror and stared at himself in it, exclaiming: ‘I bear witness that there is no god but God and Muhammad is the Apostle of God.’ Then, looking at his beard, he saw that its white hairs had obscured the black, and white hairs, he remembered, are a herald of death.
His wife knew the time that he would get back and so she washed and prepared herself for him. When he came in, she said: ‘Good evening,’ but he replied: ‘I see nothing good.’ She then told the slave girl to bring in the evening meal and when the food was brought, she told her husband to eat. ‘I shall not eat anything,’ he replied, kicking away the table and turning his face away from her. ‘What’s the reason for this?’ she asked. ‘And what has saddened you?’ ‘It is you who are the cause of my sorrow,’ he replied.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and fiftieth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that Shams a
l-Din told his wife: ‘It is you who are the cause of my sorrow.’ ‘Why is that?’ she asked. ‘When I opened my shop today,’ he answered, ‘I saw that every single merchant had one, two or more sons sitting like their fathers in their shops and I said to myself: “Death, which took your father, will not fail to visit you.” The night on which I first lay with you I swore that I would not marry another wife, that I would not take a concubine, be she Abyssinian, Rumi or a slave girl of some other race; and that I would not spend a single night away from you. The fact is, however, that you are barren, and marriage to you is like chiselling rock.’ ‘As God is my witness,’ his wife replied, ‘it is you who are the cause of the difficulty and not I, as your sperm is watery.’ ‘What is the matter with men like that?’ he asked. ‘They cannot impregnate women and produce children,’ she told him. ‘Where is there something to thicken sperm?’ he asked. ‘I shall buy it to thicken mine.’ She told him to search among the apothecaries.
Next morning they were both sorry for having reproached each other, and Shams al-Din set out for the market, where he found an apothecary. They exchanged greetings and Shams al-Din then asked the man whether he had anything that would thicken sperm. ‘I did have,’ said the man, ‘but no longer. Try my neighbour.’ So Shams al-Din went around asking everyone and being laughed at, after which he went back to his own shop and sat there sadly. In the market there was a poor hashish addict, the syndic of the auctioneers, Muhammad Simsim by name, who used to take opium, opium paste and green hashish. This man was in the habit of saying good morning to Shams al-Din every day, and he now came up as usual. They exchanged greetings, but Shams al-Din was irritated and Shaikh Muhammad asked him why. Shams al-Din then told him what had happened between him and his wife. ‘I’ve been married to her for forty years,’ he explained, ‘but she has given me neither a son nor a daughter. I have been told that the reason she has never become pregnant is that my sperm is watery and that I should look for something to thicken it, but I haven’t been able to find anything.’ Shaikh Muhammad said: ‘I have got something that will do that. What would you say about someone who could see to it that, after forty years, you managed to impregnate your wife?’ ‘If you do that,’ said Shams al-Din, ‘I shall shower you with favours and benefits.’ ‘Give me a dinar,’ said the other, and when Shams al-Din produced two, he took them and said: ‘Give me this china bowl.’
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 108