The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights

by vol 02 (tr Malcolm C

  On ‘Abd Allah’s orders, the Iraqi was taken to an apartment where he was provided with everything he needed while the affair was being investigated. ‘Abd Allah then wrote to tell his agent in Baghdad that a man had come to him with a letter supposedly written by Yahya ibn Khalid. He added: ‘I’m suspicious of this letter and I want you to go yourself to check on it without delay. Send me back a reply quickly to let me know whether it is genuine or false.’

  When ‘Abd Allah’s letter reached Baghdad, his agent rode off…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when ‘Abd Allah’s letter reached Baghdad, his agent rode off immediately and went to the house of Yahya ibn Khalid, where he found Yahya seated with his companions and intimate friends. After greeting him, the man handed him ‘Abd Allah’s letter, which he read. He then told him to come back the next day so that he might have time to write a reply. When the agent had gone, Yahya turned to his companions and asked: ‘How should I repay someone who forges a letter in my name and takes it to my enemy?’ They each gave their opinions and every one of them proposed some form of punishment. ‘What you have said is wrong,’ said Yahya, ‘and your advice springs from baseness and lack of magnanimity. You all know how close ‘Abd Allah is to the caliph, and you know the anger and enmity that exists between ‘Abd Allah and me. Almighty God has used this man as an intermediary to reconcile us, fitting him for his destined role as one who will quench the fire of hatred that has been burning ever more fiercely in our hearts for twenty years. Now, thanks to him, things will be put right, and it is up to me to fulfil his expectations and to see that his affairs are set in order. I shall write a letter to be given to ‘Abd Allah asking him to show this man even more favour and to go on treating him with honour and respect.’

  When Yahya’s companions heard that, they called down God’s blessings on him, marvelling at his generosity and the extent of his chivalry, while he called for paper and ink and wrote a letter to ‘Abd Allah in his own hand. This ran: ‘In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful: your letter, may God prolong your life, has reached me and, on reading it, I was glad to hear that you are well and I was delighted both by your rectitude and by the prosperity that surrounds you. I see that you thought that this noble man had forged a letter from me and had brought no message of mine. In fact, this is not true. It was I who wrote the letter and it is no forgery. I hope that your generosity, kindliness and good nature will lead you to fulfil his hopes and wishes, that you will show him the respect that is his due, allow him to achieve his aim and treat him with particular and abundant favour and kindness. Whatever you do, it is to me that you will be doing it and it is my gratitude that you will receive.’

  He addressed the letter, sealed it and handed it to ‘Abd Allah’s agent. The agent, in his turn, sent it on to ‘Abd Allah, who was delighted when he read its contents. He summoned the Iraqi and asked him which of the promised rewards he chose, so that he might confer it on him. ‘The present is what I would like most,’ the man told him, and so ‘Abd Allah ordered him to be given two hundred thousand dirhams, ten Arab horses, five with trappings of silk and five with ornamental processional saddles, twenty chests full of clothes and ten mounted mamluks, as well as an appropriate selection of precious jewels. He then gave him robes of honour, treated him with favour and sent him off to Baghdad in great pomp.

  When he had reached the city, before he went to see his family he came to the door of Yahya ibn Khalid and asked permission to come in to see him. Yahya’s chamberlain went to him and said: ‘Master, at the door there is a man of respectable appearance, handsome and well-turned-out, with many servants, who wants an audience with you.’ Yahya gave his permission and when the Iraqi had come in and kissed the ground before him, Yahya asked him who he was. ‘Sir,’ replied the Iraqi, ‘I am the man whom the injustice of time had killed and whom you brought back to life from the tomb of misfortunes, resurrecting me to the paradise of my desire. I was the one who forged a letter supposedly from you which I took to ‘Abd Allah ibn Malik al-Khuza‘i.’ ‘How did he treat you,’ asked Yahya, ‘and what did he give you?’ ‘What he gave me,’ replied the Iraqi, ‘came from your hands, your generous nature, your abundant kindness, your great generosity, your magnanimity and your graciousness. He gave me riches, gifts and other presents, all of which are here at your door. It is for you to decide and to judge.’ Yahya told him: ‘The service that you have done me is better than what I have done for you. I owe you a great debt of gratitude for this huge favour you have conferred on me, as you have changed the enmity that existed between me and this highly respected man to friendship and affection, and so I shall give you the same amount that you were given by ‘Abd Allah.’ He then ordered that the man be presented with money, horses and chests to match those given to him by ‘Abd Allah, and as a result he was restored to his former prosperity, thanks to the generosity of these two noble men.

  It is said that among the Abbasid caliphs there was none more learned in all branches of knowledge than al-Ma’mun. Two days each week he would sit to debate with scholars, and in his presence the faqihs and theologians, each seated according to his category and rank, would hold discussions. On one occasion while he was sitting with them, a stranger entered the assembly wearing tattered white robes. He took his seat at the back, behind the faqihs, where he could scarcely be noticed. A discussion then started which revolved around a number of thorny points. It was the custom in such debates for the question to be put to each of the participants in turn, and everyone who had some subtlety to add or an uncommon point to make would produce it. On this occasion the question came round to the stranger, and when he spoke, his answer was better than that of any of the faqihs. It won the approval of the caliph…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the man’s reply won the approval of the caliph, who ordered the man to move to a higher place. When it was his turn to deal with the second question his answer was even better than the first and the caliph moved him up higher, and when his answer to the third problem was better and more pertinent than the first two, he was placed close to the caliph himself.

  After the close of the debate, water was brought and the participants washed their hands and then ate the food that was provided. The faqihs left, but al-Ma’mun stopped the stranger from going out with them. He brought him near and treated him with kindness, promising him liberal favours. Preparations were made for drink to be served, and wine was circulated among the caliph’s handsome drinking companions. When it came round to the stranger, he rose to his feet and said: ‘Commander of the Faithful, will you permit me to have a word?’ ‘Say what you want,’ the caliph replied. ‘The caliph’s august intelligence, may God exalt it, knows that today in the noble assembly this servant of yours was among the least-known and the humblest of the participants, and yet because of the small amount of intelligence he showed, the caliph brought him up to sit near him and exalted him over the others, causing him to reach a station to which he had never aspired. Now, however, the caliph wants to part his servant from that small quantity of intelligence that raised him from degradation to honour and from scarcity to plenty. Far be it from the Commander of the Faithful to envy what the servant has in the way of intelligence, renown and excellence. If the servant drinks wine, his intelligence leaves him; ignorance approaches and robs him of his decorum; he reverts to the degradation from which he came, and in people’s eyes he is to be despised and ignored. I hope that in his august intelligence the caliph’s grace and liberality, together with his lordly and generous nature, will not rob his servant of this jewel.’

  When al-Ma’mun heard what the man had to say, he praised and thanked him, after which he made him s
it down in his place and treated him with respect, ordering him to be given a hundred thousand dirhams, together with a horse on which to ride, as well as splendid clothes. In all his assemblies he gave him a place of honour over all the faqihs until in status and position he outranked them. God knows better.

  In former times there was a merchant in the land of Khurasan named Majd al-Din, a man of wealth, with black slaves, mamluks and servants. He had been childless until he reached the age of sixty, but then Almighty God provided him with a son, whom he named ‘Ali Shar. ‘Ali grew up to resemble the full moon, but when he had reached manhood and was perfect in all respects his father fell fatally ill. After summoning ‘Ali, he said: ‘My son, the time has come for me to die and I wish to give you some injunctions.’ When ‘Ali asked what these were, his father told him: ‘I advise you not to be over-friendly with anyone and to avoid anything that might harm or injure you. Beware of an evil companion. He is like the smith – his smoke will harm you even if his fire does not scorch you. How well the poet put it:

  There is no one in this age of yours for whose affection you should hope,

  And when Time plays you false, no friend will remain true.

  Live on your own; rely on no one else.

  These words hold my advice; this is enough.

  Another poet said:

  People are a hidden disease; do not rely on them.

  Were you to study them you would find among them cunning cheats.

  Another said:

  To meet others brings you nothing but senseless babble.

  Meet only a few, except to acquire knowledge or to better yourself.

  Yet another said:

  An intelligent man may have put people to the test,

  But while he only tasted, I ate them.

  I see their love to be deception,

  While their religion is hypocrisy.’

  ‘Father,’ said ‘Ali, ‘I have heard and shall obey, but what am I to do then?’ ‘Do good when you can,’ replied Majd al-Din. ‘Continue to act generously and take every opportunity you can to be liberal, for you will not always succeed in your pursuits. How well the poet expressed it where he said:

  It is not at every moment and every time

  That generous deeds are to be done.

  When the chance comes, hurry to take it

  For fear it may be lost.’

  ‘Father,’ said ‘Ali again, ‘I have heard and shall obey…’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that ‘Ali said: ‘I have heard and shall obey, but then what?’ ‘My son,’ said Majd al-Din, ‘remember God and He will remember you. Preserve your wealth and don’t be extravagant, for if you are, you will find yourself needing help from the lowest of men. Know that a man’s worth depends on what he owns. How excellent are the poet’s lines:

  When I am short of funds, no friend will stay with me;

  If I am wealthy, all men are my friends.

  How many an enemy befriends me thanks to wealth;

  When money vanishes, how many friends are turned to foes.’

  ‘What then?’ asked ‘Ali. ‘My son,’ replied his father, ‘consult your elders; when you want something, never act hastily; if you show mercy to your inferiors, your superiors may have mercy on you. Treat no one unjustly, lest God put you in the power of someone who will be unjust to you. How well the poet expressed it:

  Join someone else’s opinion to your own and take advice;

  Two people will not fail to see the proper course.

  Man is a mirror which shows him his own face,

  But only with two mirrors can he see the back of his own head.

  Another poet said:

  Go slowly; do not rush at what you want;

  Show mercy and you will meet the Merciful.

  There is no power that God’s power does not surpass,

  And no wrongdoer will escape one who does wrong.

  Yet another poet said:

  Do not act unjustly when you have the power;

  For vengeance overtakes the wrongdoer.

  You may sleep but your victim is awake,

  Cursing you, and God’s eye can never sleep.

  Beware of drinking wine. This is the source of all evil; it does away with reason and brings the drinker into contempt. How well the poet expressed this:

  By God, I shall not fall victim to wine

  While soul is joined to body and my words are clear.

  I’ll never feel a hankering for it;

  My choice companions are none but the sober.

  This is my advice to you; keep it before you and God will act in my place as your mentor.’ When he had said this, Majd al-Din lost consciousness, but after an interval of silence he regained his senses, asked pardon from God and recited the confession of faith. He then died and was received into the mercy of Almighty God.

  ‘Ali Shar shed tears and bewailed the death of his father. The necessary preparations were made for the funeral and the bier was accompanied on foot by high and low alike. The Quran reciters read the Quran aloud around the coffin and no single thing that should have been done was omitted by ‘Ali. Prayers were said over the grave as the body was buried, and over the grave these verses were inscribed:

  You were created from earth, becoming a live creature;

  You were taught to speak with eloquence.

  You have returned to earth, becoming a dead thing.

  It is as though you never left the earth at all.

  ‘Ali Shar grieved deeply for his father and followed the custom of the leading men in arranging for ceremonies of mourning to be held for him. He was still in mourning when a short time later his mother died, and for her too he made similar arrangements. Then he took his seat in his shop and began the business of buying and selling, but, in accordance with his father’s advice, he was not on intimate terms with anyone. This went on for a year, but after that some bastard children of fornication tricked their way into his favour and became his companions. In their company he turned to debauchery, abandoning the path of right guidance. He drank wine and frequented the company of pretty girls morning and evening. ‘My father collected all this money for me,’ he said to himself, ‘and if I don’t spend it, to whom am I going to leave it? By God, I shall follow the poet’s words:

  If you spend all your days acquiring and amassing wealth,

  When are you to enjoy what you have got?’

  As a result, he spent all his nights and days squandering his wealth until it had all gone and he had become poor. In his straitened circumstances and his distress he had to sell his shop, his properties and everything else. He even had to sell his own clothes, leaving himself with a single suit. When he was cured of his drunkenness and had begun to think again, he was overcome by sadness. One day, when he had sat from daybreak until afternoon without eating, he told himself that he would make the rounds of those he had spent his money on, in the hope that one of them might give him food for the day. He visited them all, but when he knocked on any door, the owner would hide away from him, pretending not to be there. Consumed by hunger, he went to the traders’ market…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that, consumed by hunger, he went to the traders’ market, which he found crowded with people. He asked himself what the reason for this might be, and he said: ‘By God, I am not going to move off until I have had a look at this circle of people.’ When he went up to it he found a girl, five foot tall, symmetrically formed, with rosy cheeks and rounded breasts. She surpassed all the people of her age in beauty, grace and perfection, being, as a poet described her:

  Created in accord with her own desires,

  Perfected in beauty’s mould, neither tall nor short.


  Beauty itself is enamoured of her form;

  Reluctance, pride and modesty prevent approach.

  She appears like the full moon, slender as a bough;

  She smells of musk, without match among humankind,

  Formed as though from the essence of a pearl,

  In each of her limbs beauty displays a moon.

  The girl’s name was Zumurrud, and when ‘Ali Shar saw her he was astonished by her beauty and grace and he said: ‘By God, I am not going to leave until I see what price she is going to fetch and until I find out who buys her.’ He stood with a group of merchants who thought that he was a would-be purchaser, believing him rich because of his inherited wealth. The auctioneer stood beside the girl and called out: ‘Merchants and men of wealth, who will open the bidding for this girl, the mistress of moons, the radiant pearl, Zumurrud, the curtain maker, the goal of those who seek and the delight of the desirous? Open the bidding and whoever opens it will face no blame or reproach.’ ‘Five hundred dinars,’ said one of the merchants. ‘And ten,’ said another. A blue-eyed, ugly old man named Rashid al-Din said: ‘And a hundred.’ ‘And ten,’ said another, but then Rashid al-Din offered a thousand and the rest held their tongues and fell silent.

  The auctioneer consulted Zumurrud’s owner, who told him: ‘I have sworn only to sell her to a man of her own choice, so consult her.’ So the man went up to her and said: ‘Mistress of moons, this merchant wants to buy you.’ The girl looked at her prospective purchaser and, seeing how ugly he was, she said to the auctioneer: ‘I am not to be sold to an old man whom senility has left in such decrepitude. How well the poet expressed it: