When he had finished these lines, he told the man that it was his son who was intending to travel. ‘May God preserve him for you,’ the man replied. Shams al-Din then drew up a contract between him and ‘Ala’ al-Din, instructing him to look after the boy as though he was his own son and giving him a hundred dinars to spend on his servants. He bought sixty mules for his son, together with a lamp and a covering for the shrine of ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani. ‘My son,’ he said, ‘I shan’t be there and as this man will be your father in my place you must do everything that he tells you.’ He then went off with the mules and the servants and held a feast that night in honour of Shaikh ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani at which the whole of the Quran was recited. Next morning, he gave his son ten thousand dinars, telling him: ‘If you find the price of material favourable when you come to Baghdad, sell the stuff, but if things are stagnant, then you can spend the dinars.’
The mules were then loaded, farewells were said and the party set out from the city. Meanwhile, Mahmud al-Balkhi had made his own preparations to go to Baghdad. He had brought out his baggage and pitched his tents outside Cairo, saying to himself: ‘It is in the desert that you will be able to enjoy this boy, with no telltales or observers to spoil things for you.’ He had a thousand dinars left over from a business deal which he owed Shams al-Din and so he went to him and said goodbye. Shams al-Din told him to give the thousand dinars to ‘Ala’ al-Din, asking him to look after the boy and saying: ‘He will be like a son for you.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din then met Mahmud…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and fifty-fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din then met Mahmud, who had told his cook not to prepare any food, and he himself then produced food and drink both for ‘Ala’ al-Din and his men, after which they set out on their journey. Mahmud owned four houses, one in Cairo, one in Damascus, one in Aleppo and one in Baghdad. The caravan continued on its way through the desert wastes until it came within sight of Damascus. Then Mahmud sent his slave to ‘Ala’ al-Din, whom he found sitting and reading. When the slave came up and kissed his hands, ‘Ala’ al-Din asked what he wanted. ‘My master sends you his greetings,’ replied the slave, ‘and invites you to dine with him in his house.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din said that he would have to consult Kamal al-Din, the leader of the caravan, and when he did, Kamal al-Din told him not to go.
The caravan left Damascus and reached Aleppo, where Mahmud held another banquet, again sending an invitation to ‘Ala’ al-Din. He again consulted Kamal al-Din, who again stopped him going. They then left Aleppo and when they were within one stage of Baghdad, Mahmud renewed his invitation. ‘Ala’ al-Din consulted Kamal al-Din, who tried to keep him from going, but this time ‘Ala’ al-Din said that he had to. He got up, belted on his sword under his robes and went to Mahmud. Mahmud rose to meet him, greeted him and then produced an enormous feast. They ate, drank and then washed their hands, after which Mahmud leaned over to take a kiss from ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘Ala’ al-Din received this on his hand and said: ‘What do you want to do?’ ‘I have brought you here,’ said Mahmud, ‘so that I may enjoy myself with you in this place, and we may interpret the poet’s lines:
Can you come to me for one short moment,
As long as it takes to milk a small ewe or fry an egg?
You may eat what you can of a little bit of bread, and
Take what you can collect of a little bit of silver,
And bear what you want without difficulty,
A span long, half a span, or a small handful.’
Mahmud’s intention was to ravish ‘Ala’ al-Din, but the boy got up, drew his sword and exclaimed: ‘Shame on your white hairs! Are you not afraid of the All-Powerful God? God have mercy on the poet who wrote:
Guard your white hairs from the shame that may defile them;
White hairs are quick to show the dirt.’
After finishing this line, he added: ‘This merchandise is held in trust for God and is not for sale. Were I to sell it to someone else for gold, I would sell it to you for silver, but I shall not stay in your company ever again, you filthy fellow.’ He went back to Kamal al-Din, the caravan leader, and said: ‘This man is a pervert. I shall never again keep company with him or walk on the same road as him.’ ‘My son,’ said Kamal al-Din, ‘didn’t I tell you not to go to him? But if we part from him, we shall have reason to fear for our lives, so let us stay as one caravan.’ ‘I can never travel along with him,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din, and so he loaded up his merchandise and went off with his men until he came to a wadi where he wanted to halt. ‘Don’t stop here,’ said Kamal al-Din, ‘but press on with the journey so that we may perhaps get to Baghdad before the gates close. The Baghdadis only open and shut them in daylight lest the city fall into the hands of the Rafidi heretics, who would then throw the books of wisdom into the Tigris.’ ‘My father,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din, ‘I’ve not come out and brought these goods here as a matter of business but in order to see the sights of the various lands.’ Kamal al-Din replied: ‘My son, I’m afraid lest the Bedouin attack you and plunder your goods.’ ‘Man,’ replied ‘Ala’ al-Din, ‘are you master or servant? For my part, I shall not enter Baghdad until it is morning, when the people there can see my merchandise and learn to recognize me.’ ‘Do what you want,’ said Kamal al-Din. ‘I have given you my advice, but you know what is best for yourself.’
On ‘Ala’ al-Din’s orders the mules were unloaded and his tent was pitched. They stayed there until midnight, when ‘Ala’ al-Din, on getting up to relieve himself, saw something glinting in the distance. He asked Kamal al-Din what this could be. Kamal al-Din sat up, and after looking carefully, recognized that this was the gleam of Bedouin spear points, steel and swords. These were, in fact, Bedouin led by a man named ‘Ajlan Abu Na’ib, the shaikh of the Bedouin. When they got near the caravan and saw the loads, they exclaimed to each other that this was a night of plunder. ‘Ala’ al-Din’s men heard this and Kamal al-Din shouted at ‘Ajlan, calling him ‘the least of the Bedouin’. ‘Ajlan then struck him in the breast with a spear whose point emerged gleaming from his back. He fell dead at the entrance to the tent, and when the water carrier also shouted: ‘Vilest of the Bedouin,’ he was cut down by a sword which struck his shoulder and emerged from the tendons of his neck. As ‘Ala’ al-Din watched, the Bedouin then wheeled around and attacked the caravan, killing every single one of his men. They loaded the bales of merchandise on to the mules and left. ‘Ala’ al-Din said to himself: ‘What is going to get me killed is my mule and my clothes.’ He got up and stripped off his clothes, which he threw on to the back of his mule, leaving himself only in his shirt and drawers. He looked ahead towards the entrance of the tent, where he saw a pool of blood that had streamed from the corpses. In this he plunged what he was wearing until he looked like a dead man, drowned in blood.
So much for him, but as for ‘Ajlan, the Bedouin shaikh, he asked his men whether the caravan had been coming from Cairo or leaving Baghdad.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and fifty-fifth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the Bedouin leader asked his men whether the caravan had been coming from Cairo or leaving Baghdad. ‘It was on its way from Cairo to Baghdad,’ they told him. ‘Go back to the corpses,’ he told them, ‘for I don’t believe that its owner is dead.’ The Bedouin did as they were told and began thrusting and striking at the corpses until they came to ‘Ala’ al-Din, who had thrown himself down among them. When they reached them, they said: ‘You’re only pretending to be dead, but we’ll finish the job.’ A Bedouin drew out his spear and was about to plunge it into ‘Ala’ al-Din’s breast when ‘Ala’ al-Din cried: ‘Oh for your blessing, my lord ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani,’ and he saw a hand that turned the spear aside into the breast of the caravan leader, Kamal al-Din, strikin
g him rather than ‘Ala’ al-Din himself.
The Bedouin then went off with the bales that they had loaded on the mules. When ‘Ala’ al-Din saw that these birds had flown off with their spoils, he sat up and then started to run. ‘Ajlan, however, said to his companions: ‘I can see something in the distance.’ One of them went back and, seeing ‘Ala’ al-Din running, he called to him: ‘It won’t do you any good to run away. We’re on your track,’ and, kicking his horse, he hurried after him. ‘Ala’ al-Din had seen a water trough in front of him with a cistern beside it. He climbed up to a grille in the cistern, stretched out on it and pretended to be asleep, praying: ‘Kind Shelterer, grant me Your shelter, which cannot be removed.’ Just then, the Bedouin stood up on his stirrups under the cistern and put out a hand to seize him. ‘Oh for your blessing, Lady Nafisa!’ exclaimed ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘This is the time for you to help me!’ At that, a scorpion stung the Bedouin on the palm of his hand. He shrieked and called for his companions to come and help him, as he had been stung. He dismounted from his mare, and when the others came they remounted him and asked him what had happened. ‘A young scorpion stung me,’ he told them, after which they took the spoils of the caravan and made off.
So much for them. ‘Ala’ al-Din stayed and slept on the grille of the cistern, while as for Mahmud al-Balkhi, he had ordered his goods to be loaded up and had travelled on until he came to the Lion’s Wood. Here he was pleased to find all ‘Ala’ al-Din’s servants lying dead. He dismounted and walked on to the cistern and the trough, where his mule, which was thirsty, bent its head to drink. In the water it saw ‘Ala’ al-Din’s reflection. It started away, and when Mahmud looked up, he saw ‘Ala’ al-Din lying there, dressed only in his shirt and drawers. ‘Who has done this to you, leaving you in so bad a state?’ he asked. ‘The Bedouin,’ ‘Ala’ al-Din told him. ‘My son,’ said Mahmud, ‘the mules and the merchandise served as your ransom. Console yourself with these lines:
If a man’s head has escaped destruction,
His money is no more than the clipping of a nail.
Come down, my son, and fear no harm.’
When ‘Ala’ al-Din had come down from the grille, Mahmud mounted him on a mule and they went on to Baghdad, where they entered Mahmud’s house. He then told ‘Ala’ al-Din to go to the baths, and repeated: ‘The wealth and the goods served as your ransom, my son, and if you obey me, I’ll give you twice as much again.’ When he left the baths, Mahmud brought him into a hall embellished with gold, from which four rooms opened out. On his orders, a meal of all kinds of food was produced. They ate and drank and Mahmud then leaned towards ‘Ala’ al-Din to snatch a kiss from him. ‘Ala’ al-Din received this on his hand and said: ‘Are you still following your evil ways with me? Didn’t I tell you that, were I to sell this merchandise to others for gold, I would sell it to you for silver?’ ‘It’s only for this that I am going to give you trade goods, a mule and clothes,’ said Mahmud, ‘for I am madly in love with you. How eloquently the poet expressed it:
Abu Bilal, our shaikh without a peer,
Quoting from one of his own associates, has said:
“A lover’s passion is not to be cured
By kisses or embraces until he copulates.” ’
‘This can never be,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘Take your clothes and your mule and open the door for me so that I can leave.’ Mahmud did this and ‘Ala’ al-Din went out, with the dogs barking behind him. While he was walking off in the darkness he caught sight of the door of a mosque, and going into the entrance hall he took shelter there. Suddenly, he saw a light coming towards him, and when he looked at it closely, he made out two lanterns being carried by two slaves in front of two merchants, one an old man with a handsome face and the other a youth. He heard the youth saying to his companion: ‘For God’s sake, uncle, give me back my cousin.’ ‘How many times did I tell you to stop,’ said the old man, ‘when you were repeating the formula of divorce as though it was your copy of the Quran?’ He then turned to his right and saw the young ‘Ala’ al-Din looking like a sliver of the moon. They exchanged greetings and the old man asked ‘Ala’ al-Din who he was. ‘I am ‘Ala’ al-Din, son of Shams al-Din, the syndic of the merchants of Cairo. I asked my father for some merchandise and he gave me fifty loads of materials and goods…’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and fifty-sixth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din said: ‘My father gave me fifty loads of goods, together with ten thousand dinars. I got as far as the Lion’s Wood when I was attacked by Bedouin who took my money and my goods, so I came into the city and, not knowing where to spend the night, I saw this place and took shelter here.’ ‘My boy,’ said the old man, ‘what would you say to my giving you a thousand dinars, as well as a suit of clothes and a mule, each worth a thousand dinars?’ ‘Why would you do that, uncle?’ asked ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘This young man who is with me,’ replied the other, ‘is my brother’s only son, and I have an only daughter. My daughter is a beautiful girl, known as Zubaida, the lute player. I married her to him, but whereas he loves her, she dislikes him. After swearing by triple divorce,* he broke his oath, and no sooner was she sure of this than she left him. He got everyone to plead with me to give her back to him, but I said that the only way in which this can be done is by giving her an interim husband. My nephew and I agreed that this should be a stranger, so that nobody could reproach him about it, and as you are a stranger, come with us, so that we can draw up a contract for you to marry her and spend the night with her. In the morning, you can divorce her and I shall give you what I promised.’
‘Ala’ al-Din said to himself: ‘To pass the night with a bride on a bed in a house is better than to pass it in lanes and entrance halls.’ So he went with them to the qadi, who, when he saw him, felt love for him enter his heart. ‘What is it that you want?’ he asked the girl’s father. ‘I want you to draw up a marriage contract making this young man an interim husband for my daughter. It is to be written into the contract that the dowry is ten thousand dinars. If he spends the night with her and divorces her in the morning, I shall give him clothes worth a thousand dinars, a mule worth a thousand dinars, and a thousand dinars in cash, but if he doesn’t divorce her, he is to pay over the ten thousand dinars.’
The contract was drawn up on these terms and the girl’s father kept a record of it. He then took ‘Ala’ al-Din with him, gave him a suit of clothes and brought him to the girl’s house. He left ‘Ala’ al-Din at the door while he went to his daughter and told her: ‘Take the record of your dowry, for I have drawn up a marriage contract between you and a handsome young man named ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’l-Shamat, and I would ask you to treat him well.’ After giving her the document, he went back to his own house. His nephew, however, had a housekeeper to whom he was kind and who was in the habit of visiting Zubaida, the lute player. He told this woman: ‘When my cousin Zubaida sees this handsome young man she won’t be prepared to accept me, and I want you to use some wile to keep her away from him.’ She swore to him that she wouldn’t let the man approach her, and she then went to ‘Ala’ al-Din and said: ‘My son, I am going to give you some advice for the sake of Almighty God, so please accept it. I am afraid for you because of that girl. Let her sleep on her own; don’t touch her or go near her.’ ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Her body is filled with leprosy and I’m afraid that she may infect you, handsome youth that you are,’ she told him. ‘I have no need of her,’ he replied, after which she went to the girl and told her the same story. ‘I have no need of him,’ the girl said. ‘I shall let him sleep on his own and in the morning he can go on his way.’
She summoned a slave girl and told her to fetch ‘Ala’ al-Din an evening meal. The girl brought food and placed it in front of him. He ate his fill and then recited the Sura Ya-Sin in a melodious voice. To the listening Zubaida it seemed as though David’s household were singing the P
salms. She said to herself: ‘May God curse this old woman who said that he suffers from leprosy. That’s not the voice of a leper, and what she said must have been a lie.’ She then took in her hands a lute of Indian workmanship, tuned the strings and sang to it in a voice sweet enough to halt the birds in the middle of the sky. These were the lines she chanted:
I fell in love with a fawn with a languid black eye,
Who, when he walks, moves ban branches to envy.
Another enjoys his union as he repulses me.
God grants His grace to whom He wills.
When ‘Ala’ al-Din heard her chanting these lines after he had finished the sura, he, too, chanted:
My greetings to the form hidden within its clothes,
And to the roses in the gardens of the cheeks.
Zubaida’s love for him increased; she raised the curtain, and at the sight of her, ‘Ala’ al-Din recited:
She came out as a moon,
Swaying as the branch of a ban tree,
Spreading the scent of ambergris,
And looking with the eyes of a gazelle.
It is as though grief is in love with my heart
And when she leaves, it finds its chance of union.
Zubaida walked, shaking her haunches and swaying, a masterwork of Him Whose favours are hidden, and each looked at the other with glances followed by a thousand sighs. When the arrow of her glances was lodged in ‘Ala’ al-Din’s heart, he recited these lines:
She saw the moon in the sky and reminded me
Of the nights of our union at al-Raqmatain.
Each one of us was looking at a moon;
I saw one mirrored in her eyes and she saw one in mine.
She came nearer him, and when she was only two paces away, he recited:
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 110