Next morning, ‘Ala’ al-Din opened a shop for the slave Salim, and would leave him sitting there to look after the business while he himself rode off to take his place at the caliph’s court.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and sixtieth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din would ride off to take his place at the caliph’s court. One day, as he was seated there as usual, a messenger came to say to the caliph: ‘Commander of the Faithful, may your life be extended in exchange for that of So-and-So, your boon companion. He has been gathered to the mercy of Almighty God, but may your own life be preserved.’ The caliph asked for ‘Ala’ al-Din and when he came before him, he presented him with a splendid robe of honour, installed him as one of his boon companions and gave him a monthly allowance of a thousand dinars. ‘Ala’ al-Din continued to fill this role and then one day, when he was seated as usual in attendance on the caliph, an emir, armed with sword and shield, came into the court and said: ‘Commander of the Faithful, may your life be extended at the expense of the hexarch,* for he has died today.’ The caliph ordered that ‘Ala’ al-Din be given a robe of honour and appointed his hexarch. The dead man had left no son, daughter or wife. ‘Ala’ al-Din took charge of his estate and the caliph told him to arrange the funeral and then to take all that the man had left in the way of wealth, slaves, slave girls and eunuchs. He then waved his handkerchief to dismiss the court and ‘Ala’ al-Din went down with Ahmad al-Danaf, captain of the right wing of the caliph’s guard, with the captain’s forty men riding at his stirrup, and on the other side Hasan Shuman, captain of the left wing, with his men. ‘Ala’ al-Din asked the latter to intercede for him with Ahmad al-Danaf, so that he might accept him as a son according to God’s covenant. Ahmad agreed to this and said: ‘I and my forty men will march in front of you to court every day.’
After this, ‘Ala’ al-Din remained for some time in the caliph’s service. Then, one day, he came back home from court and dismissed Ahmad and his men, after which he sat with his wife, Zubaida, the lute player. He had lit the candles and Zubaida had got up to relieve herself, but while he was seated there, he heard a great cry. He sprang up to find out who it was who had made the cry, only to discover that it was his wife, who was now lying stretched out on the ground; and when he put his hand on her breast, he found that she was dead. Her father’s house was opposite his own and when her father heard the cry he asked ‘Ala’ al-Din what the matter was. ‘May your life be extended, father, in exchange for that of your daughter, Zubaida, the lute player. To show honour to the dead is to bury them.’
The funeral was held the next morning, and ‘Ala’ al-Din and her father consoled each other. So much for Zubaida, the lute player, but as for ‘Ala’ al-Din, he put on mourning clothes and absented himself from court, being tearful and sad at heart. The caliph asked Ja‘far, his vizier, the reason for his absence, and Ja‘far said: ‘He is grieving for the loss of his wife, Zubaida, and is preoccupied with mourning her.’ ‘We must console him,’ said the caliph, to which the vizier answered: ‘To hear is to obey.’ The caliph, together with the vizier and a number of servants, left the palace, mounted and rode off to ‘Ala’ al-Din’s house. He was sitting there when they came and he got up to meet them, kissing the ground before the caliph. ‘May God compensate you with good,’ said the caliph. ‘And may He grant you long life, Commander of the Faithful,’ replied ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘ ‘Ala’ al-Din,’ asked the caliph, ‘why do you keep away from court?’ ‘Because of my sorrow for my wife, Zubaida, Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘Banish this grief from your heart,’ said the caliph. ‘She has gone to the mercy of Almighty God, and sorrow does no good at all.’ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ he replied, ‘I shall only stop grieving when I die and they bury me beside her.’ The caliph said: ‘In God is found a recompense for everything that has been lost. No stratagem and no wealth can save a man from death, and how eloquent was the poet who said:
Although a son of woman may live long,
One day he will be carried on a humped bier.
How can he feel delight and pleasure in this life,
Over whose cheeks dust will be poured?’
When the caliph had finished his visit of condolence, he set off home after having told ‘Ala’ al-Din not to cut himself off from the court. So next morning, ‘Ala’ al-Din rode off there and kissed the ground in front of the caliph. The caliph left his throne to come and welcome him and, after greeting him, he seated him in his place, saying: ‘ ‘Ala’ al-Din, you will be my guest tonight.’ Later, he took him to the women’s quarters, where he summoned a slave girl named Qut al-Qulub. He told her that ‘Ala’ al-Din had had a wife named Zubaida who had dispelled his cares and griefs, but who had died. ‘I want you,’ he added, ‘to play some tune…’
Nights 262 to 280
*
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and sixty-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the caliph told his slave girl Qut al-Qulub: ‘To play some tune on your lute for him to drive away cares and griefs.’ When she had got up and done this, he asked ‘Ala’ al-Din: ‘What do you think of the girl’s voice?’ ‘Zubaida had a better voice,’ replied ‘Ala’ al-Din, ‘but this is an accomplished lute player who could delight the solid rocks.’ ‘Does she please you?’ asked the caliph, and when ‘Ala’ al-Din said that she did, the caliph told him: ‘I swear by my head and the graves of my ancestors that she is a present from me to you, both she and her maids.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din thought that this was a joke, but in the morning the caliph went to Qut al-Qulub and told her that he had given her to ‘Ala’ al-Din. She was delighted, as when she had seen ‘Ala’ al-Din she had fallen in love with him. On leaving the seraglio, he went to the court, where he summoned porters and told them to transport Qut al-Qulub’s possessions, carrying her and her maids by palanquin and taking them to ‘Ala’ al-Din’s house. This they did, bringing her to ‘Ala’ al-Din’s house. The caliph, meanwhile, sat in his judgement hall until the end of the day, after which he dismissed the court and retired to his palace.
So much for him, but as for Qut al-Qulub, when she entered ‘Ala’ al-Din’s pavilion with her maids, of whom there were forty, in addition to the eunuchs, she told two of these latter to sit on chairs, one on each side of the door, with instructions that when ‘Ala’ al-Din came they were to kiss his cheeks and say: ‘Our mistress Qut al-Qulub invites you to come in, as the caliph has given her to you, together with her maids.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ they said, and they took their seats as she had ordered them. When ‘Ala’ al-Din arrived, he was surprised to find two of the caliph’s eunuchs sitting by the door. He said to himself: ‘Perhaps this isn’t my house – otherwise, what has happened?’
When the eunuchs saw him, they got up and kissed his hands. ‘We are servants of the caliph and mamluks belonging to Qut al-Qulub,’ they told him. ‘She sends her greetings to you and says that the caliph has given her to you, together with her maids, and asks you to come to her.’ He replied: ‘Welcome her for me but tell her that as long as she is with me I shall not enter the pavilion in which she is, for what was the master’s should not belong to the servant. Ask her, too, what her daily expenditure was while she was with the caliph.’ The eunuchs went to Qut al-Qulub and told her what he had said, and she answered that she used to spend a hundred dinars a day. ‘Ala’ al-Din said to himself: ‘There was no need for the caliph to give me Qut al-Qulub so that I should have to spend all this money on her, but there is nothing to be done about it.’
Qut al-Qulub stayed with him for some days, on each of which he supplied her with a hundred dinars. Then, one day, when he was absent from court, the caliph said to Ja‘far, the vizier: ‘I only gave Qut al-Qulub to ‘Ala’ al-Din to console him for the loss of his wife, so why is he still ab
senting himself from us?’ Ja‘far replied: ‘It is a true saying that whoever meets his beloved forgets his friends.’ ‘It may be that he has some reason for staying away, but we shall go to visit him,’ the caliph said. Some days earlier, ‘Ala’ al-Din had said to Ja‘far: ‘I complained to the caliph of the sorrow that I feel for the loss of my wife, Zubaida, and he gave me Qut al-Qulub.’ ‘He wouldn’t have done this unless he loved you,’ said Ja‘far, who then asked: ‘Have you slept with her?’ ‘No, by God,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘I know nothing at all about her body,’ and when Ja‘far asked him why this was, he repeated: ‘What is suitable for the master is not suitable for the servant.’
The caliph and Ja‘far went in disguise to visit ‘Ala’ al-Din and when they came to him, he recognized them and rose to kiss the caliph’s hands. Looking at him, the caliph could see the traces of sorrow and he asked the reason for this, adding: ‘Have you not slept with Qut al-Qulub?’ ‘Commander of the Faithful,’ he replied, ‘what is suitable for the master is not suitable for the servant. Up till now I have not lain with her and I know nothing of her body. Please take her back from me.’ ‘I want to meet her and to question her,’ said the caliph, to which ‘Ala’ al-Din answered: ‘To hear is to obey.’
When the caliph came to the girl…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and sixty-third night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the caliph came to Qut al-Qulub, she rose at the sight of him and kissed the ground in front of him. He then asked her whether ‘Ala’ al-Din had slept with her. ‘No, Commander of the Faithful,’ she replied. ‘I sent a message to ask him to come to me, but he wouldn’t consent.’ The caliph ordered that she should be taken back to the seraglio and, after telling ‘Ala’ al-Din not to absent himself from the court, he set off for his palace.
The next morning, ‘Ala’ al-Din mounted and rode off to the diwan, where he took his place as a hexarch. The caliph then told the treasurer to give ten thousand dinars to the vizier Ja‘far, and when this had been done, he told Ja‘far: ‘You are to go down to the market of the slave girls and buy a girl for ‘Ala’ al-Din at a price of ten thousand dinars.’ Ja‘far went obediently, taking ‘Ala’ al-Din with him to the market. As it happened, the caliph’s wali of Baghdad, an emir called Khalid, had gone to the market that day to buy a slave girl for his son. Khalid’s wife, Khatun, had borne him an ugly son named Habzalam Bazaza who had reached the age of twenty without having learned how to ride a horse, although his father was a doughty champion, a rider ready to plunge into unknown dangers.
One night it happened that Habzalam Bazaza had a polluting dream. His mother was pleased when she heard of this and she told his father, adding: ‘I want us to find him a wife, as he is now ready for marriage.’ Khalid replied: ‘He has an ugly face, foul breath and is a filthy brute whom no woman would accept.’ ‘Then we shall buy him a slave girl,’ she said. As Almighty God had decreed, on the day that Ja‘far and ‘Ala’ al-Din went to the market, the emir Khalid and his son went, too. While they were there, a beautiful girl with a perfect figure was led in by an auctioneer. After Ja‘far had offered a thousand dinars for her, the auctioneer went on to Khalid. Habzalam had looked at the girl with a glance that was followed by a thousand sighs, and he fell passionately and deeply in love with her. ‘Father,’ he said, ‘buy this girl for me.’ His father called the auctioneer over and then asked the girl her name. ‘My name is Yasmin,’ she told him, and he said to his son: ‘If you admire her, put in a higher bid.’ ‘What price have you been offered?’ Habzalam asked the auctioneer. ‘A thousand dinars,’ the man told him. ‘I will bid a thousand and one,’ Habzalam said. The auctioneer approached ‘Ala’ al-Din, who went up to two thousand dinars. Every time Habzalam raised the bidding by a dinar, ‘Ala’ al-Din raised it by a thousand. This angered Habzalam and he asked the auctioneer who was bidding against him for the girl. The auctioneer told him: ‘The vizier Ja‘far wants to buy her for ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’l-Shamat.’
When ‘Ala’ al-Din had raised the price to ten thousand dinars, the girl’s owner accepted and took the money. ‘Ala’ al-Din then took Yasmin and said to her: ‘I free you for the sake of Almighty God.’ He then wrote a marriage contract for her and set off for his house. The auctioneer was going back with his commission when Habzalam called to him: ‘Where is the girl?’ The man told him: “Ala’ al-Din bought her for ten thousand dinars, freed her and drew up a marriage contract for her.’ This saddened Habzalam, who became more and more distressed until, when he got back home, he was sick with love for Yasmin. He threw himself down on his bed and stopped eating as his passionate love grew ever more extreme. When his mother saw him in this state, she said: ‘God bring you health, my son, what has caused your sickness?’ He replied: ‘Buy Yasmin for me, mother.’ She promised him: ‘When the flower seller passes, I will buy you a basket of jasmine.’
‘I don’t want scented jasmine,’ he told her. ‘Yasmin is the name of a slave girl whom my father didn’t buy for me.’ She asked her husband why that was, and he explained: ‘What is suitable for the master is not suitable for the servant. I couldn’t get her because the man who bought her was the hexarch, ‘Ala’ al-Din.’
His son’s illness grew worse; he could neither sleep nor eat and his mother tied mourning bands round her forehead. While she was sitting at home grieving for him, in came an old woman, the mother of Ahmad Qamaqim, the master thief, a man who could bore through inner walls, climb up the outsides of buildings and steal kohl from eyes. These were the evil habits that he had followed at the start of his career and although later he had been made chief of police, he was found stealing money, seized by the wali and taken before the caliph, who ordered him to be taken to the place of execution and put to death. He asked the vizier to protect him and the vizier, whose intercession the caliph never rejected, pleaded for him. ‘How can you intercede for a plague who brings harm on the people?’ the caliph asked. ‘Put him in prison, Commander of the Faithful,’ replied the vizier. ‘It was a wise man who built the first prison, as this is a tomb for the living and brings pleasure to their enemies.’ So the caliph ordered that Ahmad should be chained up and it was to be written on his fetters that they should stay in place until he died, only to be removed when his corpse was laid out on a slab for washing. This was done and he was imprisoned.
His mother used to go again and again to the house of the wali Khalid, and to visit her son in his dungeon. ‘Didn’t I tell you to repent of evil-doing?’ she would say, and he would tell her that this was God’s decree and ask her, when she visited the wali’s wife, to get her to intercede for him with her husband. Now, on finding the wali’s wife wearing mourning bands, Ahmad’s mother asked her the reason. ‘It is because of the loss of my son, Habzalam Bazaza,’ she replied. ‘May he recover,’ the old woman said, going on to ask what was wrong with him. The wali’s wife told her the story and she asked: ‘What would you say about someone who could play a trick that would save your son?’ ‘What do you mean to do?’ said the other, and the old woman told her: ‘I have a son, Ahmad Qamaqim, the master thief, who is chained up in prison with a note on his fetters to say that they are to stay on him until he dies. Get up, put on your most splendid clothes and your finest ornaments. Then go to meet your husband, smiling cheerfully, and when he tries to get from you what men do try to get from women, hold yourself back and don’t allow him to have you. Tell him: “By God, it is remarkable that when a man wants something from his wife he goes on pestering her until he gets it, but when she wants something from him, he won’t give it to her.” He will ask you what it is that you want, but refuse to tell him until he has sworn to do it. If he takes an oath by his head or by God, tell him to swear to divorce you if he refuses and don’t allow him to have you unless he does. When he has done it, then tell him: “You have in your prison an officer called Ahmad Qamaqim, with a poor mother who has impor
tuned me to approach you, asking me to get you to intercede for him with the caliph so that he may repent and you may be rewarded by God.” ’
The wali’s wife agreed and he then approached her…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and sixty-fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 112