‘Ala’ al-Din then turned to Zubaida, his wife, and said: ‘You died and were buried, Zubaida, so how is it that you came back to life and arrived here?’ ‘Master,’ she told him, ‘I didn’t die; rather, I was kidnapped by a powerful jinni who flew off with me and brought me here. What you buried was a jinniya who had taken my shape and pretended to be dead. When you had buried her, she broke out of the tomb and went off to serve her mistress, Husn Maryam, the king’s daughter. As for me, when I opened my eyes after my shock, it was to find myself with this lady, who is the Princess Husn Maryam. I asked her why she had had me brought here and she told me that she was destined to marry my husband, ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’l-Shamat. She asked if I would accept her as a fellow wife, promising to share you with me on alternate nights. I agreed, but asked: “Where is my husband?” She said: “The fate decreed for him by God is inscribed on his forehead, and when he has fulfilled his destiny he will very certainly come here. Meanwhile, let us console ourselves in his absence with songs and music until God unites us with him.” I have stayed with her for all this while until God brought us together in this church.’
Husn Maryam then turned to ‘Ala’ al-Din and asked: ‘My lord, are you willing to accept me as your wife and be my husband?’ ‘I am a Muslim, lady,’ he replied, ‘and, as you are a Christian, how can I marry you?’ ‘God forbid that I should be an unbeliever!’ she exclaimed. ‘No, I am a Muslim and for eighteen years I have held to the religion of Islam and I have had no dealings with any religion that runs counter to it.’ ‘My lady,’ he said, ‘I want to go back to my own country.’ She replied: ‘Know that I have seen written on your forehead what you have to fulfil before you get what you want.’ Then she added: ‘I congratulate you, ‘Ala’ al-Din, that you have a son named Aslan, who occupies your former place at the caliph’s court and is now eighteen years old. Know that the truth has become known and falsehood has disappeared, as our Lord has revealed who it was who stole the caliph’s treasures. This was Ahmad Qamaqim, the treacherous thief, who is now chained up in prison. You should also know that it was I who sent you the jewel and arranged for you to find it in the bag in your shop. It was I who sent the captain, who fetched you together with the jewel. He is deeply in love with me and wants me to sleep with him, but I have not given myself to him, telling him that I would not do that unless he brought me the jewel and its owner. I gave him a hundred purses of money and sent him off in the guise of a trader, whereas he is in fact the captain of a man-of-war. When they were about to kill you after having killed the forty prisoners who were with you, I sent you the old woman.’ ‘May God reward you well on my behalf,’ said ‘Ala’ al-Din. ‘How excellently you have acted!’
Husn Maryam now renewed her profession of Islam at ‘Ala’ al-Din’s hands and, when he realized her sincerity, he asked her to tell him the virtues of the jewel and where it had come from. She said: ‘It comes from a talismanic treasure hoard and it possesses five virtues to help us in times of need. My paternal grandmother was a sorceress who could unravel secret signs and steal from treasure hoards, and it was in one of these that she got hold of it. When I was fourteen I read the Gospel together with other books and I found the name of Muhammad, may God bless him and give him peace, in four of them, the Torah, the Gospel, the Psalms and the Quran. I believed in him and accepted Islam, being convinced in my mind that the only true object of worship is Almighty God and that the Lord of mankind approves of no other religion apart from Islam. When my grandmother fell ill, she made me a present of the jewel and taught me its five virtues. Before she died my father asked her to forecast the future for him by means of geomancy and to tell him what his end would be. She told him that he would be killed by a prisoner from Alexandria, as a result of which he swore to kill every captive coming from there. He told this to the captain and ordered him to attack and seize Muslim ships, killing everyone who came from Alexandria or bringing them to him. The captain did as he was told and killed as many men as he has hairs on his head. My grandmother then died and I decided to forecast my own future to find out who would marry me. So I discovered that my husband would be none other than ‘Ala’ al-Din Abu’l-Shamat, the trusty and faithful. This astonished me, but I waited until the appointed time had come and then I met you.’
‘Ala’ al-Din now married Husn Maryam, after which he told her that he wanted to go back to his own country. ‘In that case, come with me,’ she said. She took him and hid him in a small room in the palace. She then went in to see her father, who told her: ‘I am feeling very sad today. Sit down and let us get drunk.’ She sat down, and after he had called for wine to be brought, she started pouring it out and filling up his glass until he lost his senses. At that, she drugged a glass with banj and when he had drunk it he fell over backwards, at which she went to ‘Ala’ al-Din and fetched him from his room, telling him: ‘Your enemy is flat on his back. Do what you want with him, for I have made him drunk and drugged him.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din went in, and seeing the king in this state, he tied his hands tightly and fettered him. He then gave him an antidote to the banj and when he recovered his senses…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and seventieth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ala’ al-Din gave the king an antidote to the banj and when he recovered his senses he found ‘Ala’ al-Din together with his daughter sitting on his chest. ‘Are you really doing this to me, daughter?’ he asked. ‘If I am your daughter,’ she told him, ‘then turn to Islam, for I have become a Muslim. The truth has been made clear to me and I have followed it, turning aside from falsehood. I have submitted myself to God, the Lord of all things, and have no dealings with any religion that runs counter to it in this world and the next. If you accept Islam, you will be welcome, but if not, then it is better for us to kill you than for you to live.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din also admonished him, but he arrogantly refused and ‘Ala’ al-Din drew his dagger and cut his throat from one side to the other. He then wrote a note to say what had happened, after which he took whatever precious things were light to carry and he and the princess left the palace and went to the church.
The princess now brought out the jewel and placed her hand on the facet on which a couch was engraved. She rubbed it and a couch appeared in front of her. She took her seat on this, together with ‘Ala’ al-Din and his wife Zubaida, the lute player, and then she said: ‘I conjure you, couch, by the names, the talismans and the hieroglyphs inscribed on this jewel to carry us up and away.’ The couch rose up with them and carried them to a valley in which there was nothing growing. She turned the other four facets of the jewel up towards the sky, but reversed the one inscribed with the couch and the couch itself came down to earth. The princess now turned over the facet engraved with the picture of a pavilion and struck it, saying: ‘Let a pavilion be set up in this valley.’ A pavilion appeared and the three took their seats in it. The valley itself was barren, without plants or water, and so she turned the jewel’s four facets towards the sky and said: ‘By the truth of the Names of God, let trees grow and let a stream run beside them.’ Trees immediately sprouted, and a noisy stream with clashing waves ran at their side. The three used this for their ritual ablution and then prayed and drank. The princess turned over the remaining three facets until she came to the one on which a table of food was engraved. ‘By the truth of the names,’ she said, ‘let a meal be provided,’ and instantly there was a meal comprising splendid foods of all kinds, and the three ate, drank and enjoyed themselves happily.
So much for them, but as for the king’s son, he went into his father’s room and found him lying dead. He also found the note written by ‘Ala’ al-Din, which he read, and after noting what was in it he looked for his sister but failed to find her. He then went and found the old woman in the church, but when he asked her about his sister, she told him that she had not seen her since yesterday. After this he went back and ordered his horseme
n to mount, telling them what had happened. They mounted and rode off until they came near the pavilion, and Husn Maryam, who had got up, saw a dust cloud covering the horizons and rising into the air. When it had blown away and dispersed, she saw her brother and his men, who were calling out: ‘Where are you heading? We are on your heels.’ She asked ‘Ala’ al-Din whether he could hold his ground in battle and he told her: ‘I am as weak as a tent peg fixed in bran. I know nothing of war and combat, swords or spears.’ She took out the jewel and rubbed the facet engraved with the picture of a horse and rider. Instantly a rider appeared from the hinterland and attacked the Genoese, striking them with his sword until he had broken and routed them. Husn Maryam now asked ‘Ala’ al-Din whether he would prefer to go to Cairo or to Alexandria, and when he said: ‘Alexandria,’ they got on the couch and she pronounced a spell over it. In the twinkling of an eye, it had taken them there.
‘Ala’ al-Din left the women in a cave and went off to fetch them clothes from the city. After they had put these on, he took them off to the living quarters of his shop and brought them food. He then saw Ahmad al-Danaf, who was on his way from Baghdad, and, meeting him on the road, he embraced him and greeted him warmly. Ahmad al-Danaf gave him the good news that he had a son, Aslan, who was now twenty years old, after which ‘Ala’ al-Din astonished him by telling him his story from beginning to end and took him to his shop, where they passed the night. The next morning ‘Ala’ al-Din sold the shop, adding the money that he got for it to what he had with him. He was told by Ahmad al-Danaf that he was wanted by the caliph, but he said: ‘I am going to Cairo to greet my father and mother and my family.’ So they all got on the couch and set off for Cairo, the Fortunate City, landing in al-Darb al-Asfar, because the house of ‘Ala’ al-Din’s family was in that quarter. He knocked on its door and his mother said: ‘Who is at the door, now that I have lost my dear one?’ ‘It is I, ‘Ala’ al-Din,’ he replied, and his family came down and embraced him. He brought in his wife and what he had with him, after which Ahmad al-Danaf came in with him and there they rested for three days.
‘Ala’ al-Din then decided to go to Baghdad and, although his father asked him to stay with him, he said: ‘I cannot bear to be separated from my son, Aslan.’ So he took his father and mother and went to Baghdad. There Ahmad al-Danaf gave the caliph the good news of ‘Ala’ al-Din’s arrival and told him his story. The caliph came to greet him, taking with him Aslan, his son, and they met and embraced. The caliph ordered Ahmad Qamaqim to be produced and when this was done, he told ‘Ala’ al-Din: ‘Here is your enemy.’ ‘Ala’ al-Din drew his sword and cut off the thief ’s head, after which the caliph organized a great feast. The qadis and notaries attended and drew up a marriage contract for Husn Maryam. ‘Ala’ al-Din consummated the marriage and found his bride to be an unpierced pearl. Aslan was appointed as hexarch and the caliph gave them splendid robes of honour. They led the most pleasant and delightful of lives until they were visited by the destroyer of delights and the parter of companions.
There are very many stories of generous men, among them being one told of Hatim of Tayy. It is said that when he died, he was buried on the summit of a mountain. By his tomb two stone water troughs were constructed, beside which were stone statues of girls with unbound hair. Beneath the mountain a river flowed and when wayfarers halted there they would hear cries all night long, but in the morning the only thing that they would find would be the stone statues. When Dhu’l-Kura‘, the king of Himyar, on a journey from his tribe, spent the night there…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and seventy-first night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Dhu’l-Kura‘, the king of Himyar, on a journey from his tribe, spent the night there and approached that place, he heard the cries from the top of the mountain and asked what this was. He was told: ‘This is the grave of Hatim of Tayy. There are two stone water troughs there and stone statues of girls with unbound hair and every night people who halt here hear weeping and wailing.’ The king, in mockery of Hatim, said: ‘We are your guests tonight, Hatim, and we are hungry.’
He then fell asleep, but later woke in a panic, calling to his men for help and telling them to look to his riding camel. When they came, they found the camel in convulsions and so they slaughtered it, roasted its flesh and ate it. When they asked the king about this he said: ‘I closed my eyes and then in a dream I saw Hatim approaching me with a sword. “You have come to me,” he said, “but I have no provisions.” He then struck my camel with his sword and, had you not come and cut its throat, it would still have died.’ Next morning the king mounted a camel belonging to one of his companions, taking the man up behind him. At midday they saw a rider leading a spare riding camel. When they asked him who he was, he told them that he was ‘Adi, the son of Hatim of Tayy. He then asked: ‘Where is Dhu’l-Kura‘, the king of Himyar?’ ‘This is he,’ they told him, and he said to the king: ‘Mount this camel in place of your own, which my father slaughtered for you.’ ‘Who told you that?’ asked the king. ‘Adi replied: ‘When I was asleep last night my father came to me in a dream and said: “Dhu’l-Kura‘, the king of Himyar, asked me for hospitality and so I slaughtered his camel for him. Take him another camel to ride, for I had no provisions.” ’ Dhu’l-Kura‘ accepted the camel, wondering at Hatim’s generosity both in life and after his death.
Another story of generous men is told about Ma‘n ibn Za’ida. One day, it is said, he became thirsty while out hunting and found that his servants had brought no water with them. At this point three girls appeared carrying three water skins.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the two hundred and seventy-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the girls approached carrying three water skins. He asked them for a drink, which they gave him, and he then asked his servants for something that he could give them. Then, when it turned out that the servants had no money with them, he gave each of the girls ten arrows from his quiver, the arrows’ heads being made of gold. One of the girls said to the others: ‘Generous qualities like this can only belong to Ma‘n ibn Za’ida, so let each of you recite some poetry in his praise.’
The first recited:
He sets heads of gold on his arrows
And shoots generosity and bounty at his enemies.
He provides a cure for those who suffer from wounds,
And shrouds for those who are buried in their graves.
The second recited:
There is a warrior whose generous hands dispense bounty to both friends and foes.
His arrow heads are made of gold, lest war restrain his liberality.
The third recited:
Such is his generosity that he shoots his foes
With arrows whose heads are of pure gold,
So that the wounded may spend it on a cure,
And those he kills may buy a shroud.
It is also told that Ma‘n ibn Za’ida went out with a hunting party. A troop of gazelles approached them and the hunters scattered in pursuit. Ma‘n was left alone chasing a gazelle, which he caught and killed. He then saw a man riding on a donkey coming from the desert. He mounted his horse, rode up to the man and, after greeting him, asked where he had come from. ‘From the territory of Quda‘a,’ the man replied. ‘For some years it has suffered from drought, but this year it has been fertile and so I sowed cucumbers, which have come up early. I’ve picked the best of them and am on my way to the emir Ma‘n ibn Za’ida, because of his well-known reputation for generosity.’ ‘How much are you hoping to get from him?’ asked Ma‘n. ‘A thousand dinars,’ said the man. ‘And if he tells you that this is too much?’ ‘Five hundred dinars.’ ‘And if he tells you that this is too much?’ ‘Three hundred dinars.’ ‘And if he tells you that this is too much?’ ‘Two hundred dinars.’ ‘And if he tells you tha
t this is too much?’ ‘Fifty dinars.’ ‘And if he tells you that this is too much?’ ‘Thirty dinars.’ ‘And if he tells you that this is too much?’ ‘I shall get my donkey to put its legs into his harem and then go back disappointed and empty-handed to my family.’ Ma‘n laughed at him and then rode away and rejoined his men.
When he got back home he told his chamberlain: ‘When a man comes here on a donkey bringing cucumbers, take him in to me.’ After some time the Bedouin arrived and the chamberlain brought him into the emir’s presence. When he entered, he didn’t recognize Ma‘n as the man who had met him in the desert, because of the dignity and awe which now surrounded him, together with the number of his servants and retainers. For Ma‘n was seated in the middle of the room on his throne of state, with servants to the left and right and in front of him. The Bedouin greeted him and Ma‘n asked him why he had come. ‘In hopes of the emir’s generosity I have brought him some early cucumbers,’ the man answered. ‘How much do you hope to get from me?’ Ma‘n asked. ‘A thousand dinars,’ said the man. ‘That is too much.’ ‘Five hundred dinars.’ ‘Too much.’ ‘Three hundred dinars.’ ‘Too much.’ ‘Two hundred dinars.’ ‘Too much.’ ‘Fifty dinars.’ ‘Too much.’ ‘Thirty dinars.’ ‘Too much.’ ‘By God,’ said the man, ‘that fellow who met me in the desert brought me bad luck. I shan’t take less than thirty.’ Ma‘n laughed and then stayed silent. The Bedouin now realized that he was the man who had met him and said: ‘If you don’t give me thirty, then here is my donkey tethered at your door.’ Ma‘n, sitting on his throne, laughed until he fell over and then he called for his steward and said: ‘Give this man a thousand dinars, then five hundred, then three hundred, then two hundred, then a hundred, then fifty, then thirty, and leave the donkey tethered where it is.’ The astonished Bedouin received two thousand, one hundred and eighty dinars. May God’s mercy be on all these men.
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 115