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

by Penguin; Robert Irwin; Malcolm Lyons; Ursula Lyons

  When Shams al-Din had done that, Muhammad took the bowl off to the hashish seller, from whom he got two ounces of Rumi opium, together with a portion of Chinese cubebs, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, ginger, white pepper and mountain lizard. He pounded all these ingredients and boiled them up in good quality oil, after which he took three ounces of male frankincense in chunks and a cupful of cumin seeds. After having infused these, he made all this into a paste, using Rumi honey. He then put the paste in the bowl and went back and gave it to Shams al-Din. ‘This,’ he said, ‘will thicken sperm. You must take it on a spatula after a meal of mutton and domestic pigeon seasoned with hot spices. Take the mixture on the spatula, eat your evening meal and then take a drink made with refined sugar.’

  Shams al-Din took the mixture and passed it to his wife, together with the meat and the pigeons. He told her to cook them well and to take the sperm thickener and to keep it with her until he needed it and asked for it. She did as she was told and then placed the food in front of him. After his meal he asked for the bowl and ate from it. He liked it so much that he ate all the rest of it, after which he lay with his wife and she conceived that night. When her periods had ceased for three months she knew that she was pregnant. As her pregnancy came to its end and the labour pains began, the women raised cries of joy. It was a difficult delivery and by way of a charm the midwife pronounced the names of Muhammad and ‘Ali over the baby, reciting the formula Allahu akbar! and the call to prayer in his ear. Then she wrapped him up and handed him to his mother, who gave him her breast and suckled him. He drank until he had had enough and then fell asleep. The midwife stayed there for three days and then, on the seventh day, they distributed marzipan cakes that they had made, together with sweetmeats, after which they sprinkled salt.

  Shams al-Din came in and, after having congratulated his wife on her safe delivery, he asked: ‘Where is the child God has entrusted to us?’ She brought him a baby of surpassing beauty, the handiwork of God, the ever-present Ruler. Although he was only seven days old, anyone who saw him would have taken him for a year-old child. When his father looked at his face, he saw that it was like a radiant full moon and that he had moles on each cheek. ‘What have you called him?’ he asked his wife. ‘Were this a girl I would have named her,’ she replied, ‘but as he is a boy, no one should name him but you.’ At that time, people used to rely on omens in choosing their children’s names. While Shams al-Din and his family were consulting about the name, someone there suddenly said to his friend: ‘O my master ‘Ala’ al-Din.’ Shams al-Din promptly said: ‘We shall name the child ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’-Shamat.’

  ‘Ala’ al-Din was left in the charge of nurses, both wet and dry, and after drinking milk for two years he was weaned. He grew big and began to walk, and when he was seven he was put in a room beneath a trapdoor for fear of the evil eye. He was not to leave, his father said, until his beard grew, and he was put in the charge of a slave girl and a black slave. The girl would prepare his food and the slave would carry it to him. He was circumcised and his father produced a great feast for him, after which a faqih was brought to teach him. This man taught him how to read and to recite the Quran, as well as instructing him in the other sciences, until he became proficient and learned.

  One day it happened that the slave who brought him his food forgetfully left the trapdoor open. ‘Ala’ al-Din climbed through it and went to his mother. A group of the leading ladies of the city were talking with her, and when the boy came in, looking like a mamluk intoxicated by his own beauty, they veiled their faces at the sight of him and said to his mother: ‘May God punish you! How can you let this mamluk, a stranger, come in to us? Don’t you know that modesty is a part of the true faith?’ ‘Call on the Name of God,’ she replied. ‘This is my son, the fruit of my heart, fathered by Shams al-Din, the syndic of the traders, and reared in all comfort and luxury.’ ‘Never in our lives did we think that you had a son,’ they exclaimed, and she explained: ‘His father was afraid lest he be hurt by the evil eye and so had him brought up in an underground chamber.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din’s mother told the ladies: ‘His father was afraid lest he be hurt by the evil eye and so had him brought up in an underground chamber. The slave must have forgotten and left the trapdoor open and he came out through it, although we had not wanted him to leave his room until his beard had sprouted.’

  While the women congratulated her, ‘Ala’ al-Din left them and went through the courtyard to the gate room, where he sat down. While he was there, the slaves came in with his father’s mule. He asked them where it had come from and they told him that they had escorted his father as he rode it to his shop and had then brought it back. ‘What’s my father’s profession?’ he asked, and they told him that he was the syndic of the Egyptian merchants and master of the Bedouin. He then went to his mother and put the same question to her. She gave him the same answer, adding: ‘When it comes to selling, his slaves only consult him on sales whose minimum value is a thousand dinars. When it is only a matter of nine hundred dinars or less, they sell at their own discretion without asking his advice. He has authority over all merchandise, great or small, that arrives here, wherever it may come from, and he disposes of it as he wants, and this authority of his also covers merchandise that is packed up for export. Almighty God has given your father uncountable wealth, my son.’

  ‘Praise be to God, mother,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din, ‘that I am the son of the master of the Bedouin and that my father is syndic of the merchants. But why did you put me in the underground room and leave me shut up there?’ ‘We did this for fear of people’s eyes,’ she told him. ‘The evil eye is a fact and most of those who are dead and buried have fallen victim to it.’ ‘But, mother,’ he said, ‘how can anyone escape fate? Caution is no guard against destiny and what is written in the book of fate is not to be avoided. Death, which carried off my grandfather, will not leave me, and if my father is alive today he may not be alive tomorrow. If he dies and I come out and say that I am ‘Ala’ al-Din, his son, no one will believe me and the old men will say: “Never in our lives did we see any son or daughter belonging to Shams al-Din.” Then the public treasury will come and take my father’s wealth. May God have mercy on the man who said: “When a noble man dies, his money vanishes and the vilest of people take his women.” Talk to my father to make him take me with him to the market and get him to open a shop for me, where I can sit with merchandise and he can teach me the give and take of trading.’

  His mother promised to do that when his father came back and, when he did, he found ‘Ala’ al-Din sitting with his mother. ‘Why did you take him out of the underground room?’ he asked her. ‘I didn’t do that,’ she answered. ‘The servants forgot to shut the trapdoor and left it open. While I was sitting with a number of important ladies, he suddenly came in.’ Then she told him what ‘Ala’ al-Din had said, and he promised: ‘Tomorrow, my son, if Almighty God wills it, I shall take you to the market with me.’ But he added: ‘If you want to sit in a shop in the market, you need to show perfect good manners in all circumstances.’

  As a result of what his father had said, ‘Ala’ al-Din passed a happy night and in the morning his father took him to the baths and gave him an expensive suit of clothes to wear. Then, when they had eaten and drunk, Shams al-Din mounted his mule and placed ‘Ala’ al-Din on another one, leading the way as he set off to the market. The market folk saw the syndic arrive, followed by a youth who looked like a segment of a fourteen-day moon. They said to one another: ‘Look at that boy behind the syndic. We used to have a good opinion of him, but he is like a leek, with white hair and a green heart.’ Shaikh Muhammad Simsim, the official who was mentioned earlier, told the merchants: ‘We shall no longer be prepared to accept this man as our leader.’

  It had been custo
mary, when the syndic came from his house in the morning and took his seat in his shop, for his deputy to recite the Fatiha to the merchants, who would then go with him to the syndic, where they would all recite the Fatiha, greet him and then disperse, each to his own shop. When Shams al-Din took his seat in his shop that day, as usual, the merchants did not come to him in their normal way. He called for Simsim and asked why this was. ‘I’m not good at spreading trouble,’ Simsim said, ‘but the merchants have agreed to depose you from your office and they are not going to recite the Fatiha for you.’ When Shams al-Din asked him why this was, he explained: ‘It is because of this boy who is sitting beside you. You are an old man and the chief of the merchants. Is he your mamluk or one of your wife’s relatives? I think myself that you are turning to him out of love.’ ‘Silence!’ shouted Shams al-Din. ‘May God defile you and everything connected with you. This is my son.’ ‘Never in all our lives,’ said Simsim, ‘have we seen any son of yours.’ Shams al-Din replied: ‘When you brought me that sperm thickener, my wife conceived and gave birth to him, but as I was afraid of the evil eye, I had him brought up in an underground room. I hadn’t meant him to come out until he could hold his beard in his hand, but his mother didn’t agree. She asked me to open a shop for him, give him some merchandise and teach him how to trade.’

  Simsim then went to tell the merchants the truth of the matter. They all came back with him to Shams al-Din and, standing in front of him, they recited the Fatiha. They congratulated him on his son and said: ‘May our Lord preserve both the root and the branch,’ adding: ‘But whenever one of us, however poor, has a son or a daughter, he has to make a dish of butter and honey gruel for his companions and invite his acquaintances and his relatives. This is something that you have not done.’ ‘I promise this to do for you,’ said Shams al-Din, ‘and we shall meet in the orchard.’

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and fifty-second night, Shahrazad’s sister, Dunyazad, said: ‘Sister if you are awake and not asleep, finish off the story for us.’ ‘Willingly,’ replied Shahrazad, AND SHE WENT ON:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the syndic promised to entertain the merchants with a meal in the orchard. The next morning, he sent his servant to the hall and the garden pavilion, telling him to spread out the carpets, and he sent what was needed for cooking, such as sheep, butter and so forth, as was required. He prepared two tables, one in the pavilion and one in the hall, and then both he and ‘Ala’ al-Din girt up their clothes. ‘My son,’ Shams al-Din said, ‘when any grey-haired man enters, I will receive him and seat him at the table in the pavilion, whereas, if you see a beardless boy coming in, take him into the hall and seat him at the table there.’ ‘Why?’ asked ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘What is the reason for having two tables, one for men and the other for boys?’ ‘A beardless boy, my son,’ said his father, ‘is ashamed to eat with men,’ an answer of which ‘Ala’ al-Din approved. So, when the merchants came, it was Shams al-Din who greeted the men and seated them in the pavilion, while ‘Ala’ al-Din met the boys and placed them in the hall.

  Food was then produced and the guests ate, drank and enjoyed themselves, while perfumes were released. The elders sat discussing science and the traditions of the Prophet, but among them was a merchant named Mahmud al-Balkhi. This man was outwardly a Muslim but secretly a Magian, with a fondness for depravity, who loved boys. He looked at the face of ‘Ala’ al-Din with a glance that was followed by a thousand sighs. Satan had dangled a jewel before him in ‘Ala’ al-Din’s face, and he was seized by passionate desire, as love for the boy became fixed in his heart.

  He was in the habit of taking materials and other items of merchandise from ‘Ala’ al-Din’s father. Now he got up to stroll and turned aside to the boys who rose to greet him. ‘Ala’ al-Din had had to relieve his bladder and so Mahmud turned to the other boys and promised that, if they managed to persuade ‘Ala’ al-Din to go on a journey with him, he would give each of them a robe worth a large sum of money. He then left them and returned to the men’s table. ‘Ala’ al-Din came back to the boys who were still sitting there, and they got up and sat him at the head of their table. One of them asked a friend: ‘Tell me, Hasan, that capital which you use for trading, where did you get it?’ His friend said: ‘When I grew up and reached manhood, I asked my father for some merchandise. He said that he had none and told me to go and borrow money from a merchant and to use this to learn the give and take of trading. So I approached a man who lent me a thousand dinars. I used this to buy material, which I took to Damascus, where I made a profit of a hundred per cent. I then took merchandise from Damascus to Aleppo, where again I doubled my profit. I did the same thing once more by taking goods from Aleppo to Baghdad and I kept on trading until my capital reached ten thousand dinars.’

  Each one of the boys started to tell similar stories to their friends until it was ‘Ala’ al-Din’s turn to speak. When they asked him, he said: ‘I was brought up in an underground chamber. I only got out this week and I go to the shop and then come back home.’ ‘You’re used to sitting at home, then,’ they said, ‘and you don’t know the pleasures of travel – but travel is only for men.’ ‘I have no need to travel,’ ‘Ala’ al-Din replied, ‘and I set no value on journeys.’ ‘This fellow is like a fish that dies when it leaves the water,’ said one of the guests to his companion. They then told him: ‘The only source of pride for merchants’ sons is to travel for the sake of profit.’ That annoyed him and he left them, with tears in his eyes and sorrow in his heart, mounted his mule and set off back home. He was even more angry and still tearful when his mother saw him, and when she asked him what had made him cry, he said: ‘All the merchants’ sons have criticized me and told me that the only source of pride for them is to travel in order to make money.’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din told his mother: ‘All the merchants’ sons have criticized me and told me that the only source of pride for them is to travel in order to make money.’

  ‘Do you want to travel, my son?’ asked his mother, and when he said yes, she asked him where he wanted to go. ‘To Baghdad,’ he told her, ‘for there a man can make a hundred per cent profit.’ ‘My son,’ his mother said, ‘your father is a very wealthy man, but if he doesn’t supply you with merchandise using his own money, I’ll do it for you myself.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din said: ‘The best gift is the one that comes quickly. If you are going to do me a favour, now is the time for it.’ So she fetched slaves and sent them to fetch packers, after which she opened up a warehouse and removed material from it, which she had packed into ten loads.

  So much for his mother, but as for his father, when he looked around the orchard and failed to find ‘Ala’ al-Din there, he asked about him and was told that he had mounted his mule and gone back home. He rode after him and when he got to his house, he saw packed bundles. He asked about them and was told by his wife what had happened to ‘Ala’ al-Din with the merchants’ sons. ‘My boy, may God disappoint those who travel abroad!’ he exclaimed. ‘The Apostle of God, may God bless him and give him peace, said that he is fortunate who gets a living in his own land, while the ancients said: “Do not travel, even for a mile.” ’

  Then he asked ‘Ala’ al-Din whether he was determined to go and would not change his mind. ‘Ala’ al-Din said: ‘I must take my goods to Baghdad, otherwise I shall strip off my clothes, dress as a dervish and go wandering through the lands.’ ‘I am not a poor man or penniless,’ said his father and, after showing ‘Ala’ al-Din all the wealth, trade goods and materials that he owned, he said: ‘I have materials and goods suitable for every land.’ Among what he showed his son were forty packed bales, each of which had its price – a thousand dinars – written on it. ‘Take these forty,’ he said to ‘Ala’ al-D
in, ‘together with the ten that your mother gave you, and set out under the protection of Almighty God. On your way you will come to a wood known as the Lion’s Wood and a wadi known as the Wadi of the Dogs. These places make me fearful for you, as lives are lost there mercilessly.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din asked him why that was and he said: ‘Because of a Bedouin highwayman called ‘Ajlan.’ ‘Man’s sustenance comes from God,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din, ‘and if I have a share in this, no harm will come to me.’

  He and his father rode off to the beast market, where they were met by a baggage man who dismounted from his mule and kissed the syndic’s hand. ‘By God, master,’ he said, ‘it is a long time since we did any trading.’ ‘Each age has its own turn of fortune and its own men,’ said Shams al-Din. ‘May Almighty God have mercy on the poet who said:

  I asked an old man walking with his beard down to his knees:

  “Why are you so bent?” He waved his hands at me.

  “My youth was lost on the ground,” he said,

  “And I am bending down to look for it.” ’