The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights

by vol 02 (tr Malcolm C

  The next morning Khuzaima settled with his creditors and put his affairs in order, before setting out to visit Sulaiman ibn ‘Abd al-Malik, who was then in Palestine. When he reached the gate of the palace and asked the chamberlains for permission to enter, one of them went to tell the caliph that he was there. The caliph knew of his great reputation for generosity and so gave his permission. When Khuzaima entered, he greeted the caliph in a manner suited to his position, and the caliph asked him what had kept him away for so long. ‘My circumstances,’ Khuzaima replied. ‘And what stopped you coming to me?’ the caliph went on, and Khuzaima said that he had been sick. ‘Why have you come now?’ asked the caliph, and Khuzaima told him: ‘One night, when I was sitting at home, a man knocked at my door’ – and he went on to explain what had happened and to tell him the story from start to finish. The caliph asked him whether he knew the man and Khuzaima said: ‘No, Commander of the Faithful, for he was concealing his face and the only thing I heard him say was that he was Jabir Atharat al-Kiram.’ The caliph was deeply moved by this act of generosity and said: ‘If only I knew who he was, I would repay him for this.’

  Khuzaima was now presented with an imperial standard and appointed to replace ‘Ikrima as governor of al-Jazira, after which he started for home. When he was nearly there, ‘Ikrima and the people of al-Jazira came out to meet him. ‘Ikrima and Khuzaima exchanged greetings before entering the city together. Khuzaima took up his residence in the governor’s palace and told ‘Ikrima to provide a surety and for an audit to be conducted. The audit showed that ‘Ikrima owed a large sum of money, and Khuzaima asked for the money to be paid. When ‘Ikrima said that he had no means of doing that, Khuzaima insisted that it must be done. ‘I have no money,’ repeated ‘Ikrima, ‘so do what you have to do,’ at which Khuzaima ordered him to be imprisoned.

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Khuzaima ordered ‘Ikrima to be imprisoned. While he was in prison, Khuzaima again sent to demand what was due and in reply ‘Ikrima said: ‘I am not one of those who protect their wealth at the expense of their honour, so do what you want.’ Khuzaima ordered that he be chained up in prison, and ‘Ikrima stayed there for a month or more until this confinement weakened and emaciated him. News of this distressed his wife, who sent for an intelligent and knowledgeable freed-woman of hers and said: ‘Go at once to the door of the emir Khuzaima ibn Bishr and say that you have some advice for him. When one of his people asks you what this is, say that you will only tell the emir himself. Then, when you get to him, ask him to speak to you in private, and afterwards, when you are alone with him, say: “What is this that you have done? Could you only repay Jabir Atharat al-Kiram by punishing him with harsh confinement in fetters?” ’

  The woman did as she was told, and when Khuzaima heard what she said, he cried out at the top of his voice: ‘Oh, how terrible! Is that he?’ ‘Yes,’ she told him, and at once he called for his riding beast to be saddled. He then summoned the leading citizens and when they came he took them to the prison gate. He opened it and, when he and the others went in, they saw ‘Ikrima sitting in a sadly altered state, worn out by painful beatings. ‘Ikrima hung his head in embarrassment at the sight of Khuzaima, but Khuzaima went up to him and bent over to kiss his head. ‘Ikrima asked why he was doing this now, and Khuzaima replied: ‘Because of how badly I repaid you for your generous action.’ ‘May God forgive both you and me,’ ‘Ikrima told him, at which Khuzaima ordered that his fetters be taken off and put on his own legs. ‘Ikrima asked what he wished to do, to which Khuzaima replied: ‘I want to suffer what you have suffered,’ but ‘Ikrima conjured him in God’s Name not to do that. They left the prison together and went to Khuzaima’s house, where ‘Ikrima was about to take leave of him, but Khuzaima stopped him. When ‘Ikrima asked what he wanted, Khuzaima said: ‘I want to change your appearance as I would be even more ashamed in front of your wife than I am in front of you.’ On his orders the baths were cleared, and when the two of them went in Khuzaima ministered to ‘Ikrima in person. After they had left, Khuzaima presented him with an expensive robe, mounted him on a riding beast and gave him a large sum of money. Having accompanied him home, he asked permission to present his excuses to ‘Ikrima’s wife, and when he had done this he asked ‘Ikrima to go with him to Sulaiman ibn ‘Abd al-Malik, who was at that time in Ramla. ‘Ikrima agreed and the two of them set off together.

  When they reached Ramla, the chamberlain went in to tell the caliph that Khuzaima ibn Bishr had arrived. This alarmed the caliph, who said: ‘There must be something seriously wrong if the governor of al-Jazira comes here without having been summoned.’ He gave permission for Khuzaima to enter, and when he had come in, the caliph said, before even greeting him: ‘What is behind all this?’ ‘Something good,’ Khuzaima replied, and the caliph asked what had brought him. ‘I have got hold of Jabir Atharat al-Kiram,’ Khuzaima told him, ‘and I wanted to give you the pleasure of meeting him, as I saw how eager you were to find out about him and how you longed to see him.’ ‘Who is he, then?’ the caliph asked, and Khuzaima told him that this was ‘Ikrima al-Fayyad. The caliph told him to approach, and when he had come up and pronounced the ceremonial greeting, the caliph welcomed him and brought him close to where he was sitting. Then he said: ‘ ‘Ikrima, the good that you did proved unwholesome for you,’ and he added: ‘Now note down a list of every single one of your needs and wants.’ When ‘Ikrima had done that, the caliph ordered that all that he had asked for should be provided instantly, and that in addition to the things that he had listed, he should be given ten thousand dinars and twenty chests full of robes. The caliph then presented him with an imperial standard and appointed him as ruler of al-Jazira, Armenia and Azerbaijan. ‘Khuzaima’s case is in your hands,’ he told him. ‘If you want, leave him in his office or, if you’d rather, dismiss him.’ ‘I shall restore him to his office, Commander of the Faithful,’ ‘Ikrima told him, and he and Khuzaima left the caliph’s presence together and continued to serve him for the rest of his caliphate.

  A story is also told that during the caliphate of Hisham ibn ‘Abd al-Malik* there was a well-known man known as Yunus al-Katib. Yunus set out on a journey to Damascus, taking with him an extremely beautiful slave girl who possessed all the attributes that she could ever need, her price being a hundred thousand dirhams. Not far from Damascus, the caravan halted at a pool and Yunus dismounted beside it and took out some food that he had with him, together with a flask of wine. At that point, a handsome and dignified young man mounted on a roan horse and accompanied by two servants came up and, after greeting him, said: ‘Will you accept me as a guest?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Yunus and the man dismounted and then asked for some wine, which Yunus gave him. He then said: ‘Would you please sing something,’ and Yunus sang:

  She has more loveliness than any mortal has possessed;

  In my love for her, both tears and wakefulness bring me delight.

  The young man was transported with joy, and as Yunus poured him more and more wine, drunkenness took hold of him and he said: ‘Tell your slave girl to sing.’ So the girl sang:

  She is a houri whose beauties cause my heart bewilderment;

  Neither bough nor sun nor moon can rival her.

  The young man was delighted, and he stayed, with Yunus pouring him yet more wine until they had both performed the evening prayer. Then he asked Yunus what had brought him to Damascus, to which Yunus replied: ‘To settle my debts and put my affairs in order.’ ‘Will you sell me this slave girl of yours for thirty thousand dirhams?’ the man asked. ‘I need more than that,’ said Yunus, ‘together with God’s grace.’ ‘Would you be content with forty thousand?’ the other asked, and Yunus replied: ‘That would cover my debts, but it would then leave me empty-handed.’ ‘I shall take her for fifty thousand and give you a set of clothes as well as money for your jou
rney, and you shall share in my fortune as long as I live.’ At that, Yunus agreed to the sale and the man asked: ‘Will you trust me to bring you the money tomorrow and let me take the girl off now, or would you prefer to keep her until I fetch it for you tomorrow?’ A mixture of wine, shame and fear of the stranger led Yunus to say: ‘Yes, I trust you, so take her off and may God give you a blessing with her.’ The man then told one of his servants: ‘Take her up on your beast, mount behind her and ride off with her.’ He himself mounted his horse, said goodbye to Yunus and rode away.

  He had not been gone for long before Yunus, thinking the matter over, realized that he had made a mistake, and he said to himself: ‘What have I done, handing over my slave girl to an unknown man? I don’t know who he is, and even if I knew, how can I reach him?’ He sat worrying about this until the time came for morning prayer, and when his companions went into Damascus, he was still sitting there, at a loss to know what to do. He stayed until the sun became too hot for him and he had become tired of the place. He thought of going into the city, but said to himself: ‘If I do, I can’t be sure that a messenger won’t come and then fail to find me, in which case this will be a second injury that I have done myself.’ So he sat in the shade of a wall that he found there until in the afternoon he was approached by one of the two servants who had accompanied the young man. Yunus was delighted at the sight of the man, saying to himself that he could think of nothing in his life that had ever given him more pleasure. ‘I am afraid that we have been slow,’ said the servant when he came up, but Yunus said nothing to him about the distress he had suffered. The servant asked him: ‘Do you know who it was who took the slave girl?’ and when Yunus said no, the servant told him: ‘That was Walid ibn Sahl, the heir to the caliphate.’ Yunus stayed silent, and the man then told him to get up and mount, for he had a horse with him on which he set Yunus, and the two of them rode up to a house and went in.

  When the slave girl caught sight of her former master, she rushed to greet him and he asked her how she had got on with the man who had bought her. She said: ‘He put me into this room and ordered that I be given everything that I needed.’ Yunus sat with her for a while until one of the servants of the master of the house arrived and told him to come. The servant brought him to his master, and Yunus discovered Walid, his guest of the day before, seated on his couch. ‘Who are you?’ Walid asked, and Yunus replied: ‘I am Yunus al-Katib.’ ‘Welcome,’ said Walid. ‘By God, I have been longing to see you, for I have heard of your reputation. What kind of a night did you have?’ ‘A good one, may Almighty God grant you glory,’ Yunus replied. ‘Didn’t you perhaps regret what you did yesterday and say to yourself: “I have handed over my slave girl to a stranger without knowing his name or where he comes from”?’ Walid asked, and Yunus replied: ‘God forbid that I should feel regret for her, emir, as even had I made a present of her to you, this would have been the least of gifts…’

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Yunus replied: ‘God forbid that I should feel regret for her, emir, as even had I made a present of her to you, this would have been the least of gifts, for what is she in comparison with your rank?’ ‘By God,’ Walid told him, ‘I regretted taking her from you and I said to myself: “Here is a stranger who doesn’t know me, and I have pressed him and importuned him in my hurry to take the girl.” Do you remember our conversation?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Yunus, and Walid went on: ‘Will you sell me the girl for fifty thousand dirhams?’ Yunus agreed and Walid told a servant to fetch the money. When it had been brought, Walid told the man to bring fifteen hundred dinars, which he did. Walid then told Yunus to take the first sum, which was the girl’s price and then said: ‘The thousand dinars are for your good opinion of me, while the five hundred are for your travel expenses and to cover the presents you buy for your family. Are you content with this?’ ‘Indeed I am,’ Yunus replied, and he kissed Walid’s hands, exclaiming: ‘By God, you have filled my eyes, my hands and my heart!’

  ‘I have not yet been alone with her or heard enough of her singing,’ Walid now said, and he sent to fetch her. When she came he told her to be seated, and after she had sat down he told her to sing. She sang these lines:

  You who possess the sum of all beauty,

  Sweet in your nature and your coquetry,

  All loveliness lies with Arabs and with Turks,

  But nowhere in the world have you your match, gazelle.

  Fair one, show pity to a lover,

  Even if all you promise is the visit of a phantom.

  My rightful due from you must be disgrace and shame,

  While wakefulness at night is sweetness to my eye.

  I’m not the first maddened by love for you.

  How many men before me have you killed?

  Were you my one possession in the world, that would content me,

  For you are dearer to me than wealth or life itself.

  Walid was delighted and thanked Yunus for having brought her up and trained her so well. Then he told a servant to fetch a horse with its saddle and trappings, together with a pack mule, and he said: ‘Yunus, when you hear that the caliphate has passed to me, join me and I swear that I shall load you with gifts, give you a high position and enrich you for all the days of your life.’ Yunus took the money and left, returning after Walid had become caliph. Walid then kept his promise and showed him even greater kindness. Yunus said: ‘I stayed with him in the greatest happiness and splendour, enjoying the easiest of circumstances and great wealth with enough estates and wealth to last me all my life and to provide for my heirs.’ Yunus remained there until Walid was killed, may Almighty God have mercy on him.

  A story is also told that one day Harun al-Rashid, the Commander of the Faithful, was walking with Ja‘far the Barmecide when he came across a number of girls drawing water and went over to them to get a drink. As he did so, one of them turned to the others and recited the following lines:

  Tell your phantom to turn away from my bed while I sleep,

  So that I may have rest and the raging fire be quenched within my bones.

  Ill with love, I twist to and fro on my sickbed.

  This, as you know, is my state, but can any union with you last?

  The caliph admired both her beauty and her eloquence…

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

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the caliph heard these lines he admired both the girl’s beauty and her eloquence and said: ‘Daughter of noble parents, are these your own words or are you quoting?’ She told him that they were her own, and he said: ‘If that is so then keep the sense but change the rhyme at the end.’ So she recited:

  Tell your phantom to turn away from my bed while I lie asleep,

  So that I may have rest and my body’s raging fire be quenched.

  Ill with love, I turn to and fro on my bed of sorrow.

  This, as you know, is my state, but has union with you a price?

  ‘You have taken this from another,’ the caliph said, and when she insisted that the words were her own, he told her to keep the meaning and change the rhyme again. She recited:

  Tell your phantom to turn away from my bed at the time of sleep,

  That I may have rest and the raging fire be quenched within my heart.

  Ill with love, I turn to and fro on my sleepless bed.

  This, as you know, is my state, but what way is there to your union?

  The caliph again dismissed the lines as having been borrowed, and again the girl insisted that they were her own. So he told her once again to keep the meaning and change the rhyme, at which she recited:

  Tell your phantom to turn away from my bed while I lie asleep,

  So that I may rest and the raging fire be q
uenched within my ribs.

  Ill with love, I turn to and fro on my bed of tears.

  This, as you know, is my state, but can union with you return?

  ‘From what part of the tribe do you come?’ the caliph asked her, and when she said: ‘From the middlemost tent with the highest tent pole,’ he realized then that she was the daughter of a tribal chief. ‘And to what horse herds do you belong?’ she asked him, and he answered: ‘From those with the highest tree and the ripest fruit.’ She then kissed the ground and called down blessings on him, saying: ‘May God aid you, Commander of the Faithful,’ before leaving with the other Bedouin girls. ‘I must marry this girl,’ said the caliph to Ja‘far, and so Ja‘far went to her father and told him that the Commander of the Faithful wanted his daughter. He agreed willingly and promised that she would be given to him, after which he provided her with what she needed and took her to the caliph. He married her, and when the marriage had been consummated she became one of his favourites and his generous gifts served to maintain her father’s position among the Bedouin.