Pearls on a Branch

by Najla Jraissaty Khoury

  She handed the basket to the maid saying:

  “Take it and good health to you and your master!”

  The maid carried the grapes to her master and repeated to him all that she had witnessed. The second wife was listening. She wished to imitate her rival but not one thing obeyed her: not the basket, not the window, not the grapes. When she climbed onto the arbor to pick some grapes herself, she fell and broke a leg. The maid ran inside shouting:

  “God keep you, Master. My mistress’s bones are broken! She is all in splinters!”

  At last, one day the king’s son confided in his friend telling him everything that had been happening. The friend had advice to give and the king’s son listened. He went secretly into his first wife’s palace and hid where he could spy on her. How great was his surprise when he heard her speak! He was even more surprised when he heard her say she that she was thirsty and saw a clay pitcher and a small water jar speeding to her side.

  “Go to the spring,” she ordered. “I am thirsty and want a drink.”

  Off they went! And when they were filled with water, they raced back, each vying to be the first to reach her. But the jar tripped and fell onto the pitcher’s protruding spout and snapped it off. The pitcher burst into tears.

  “Why are you crying?” asked the first wife.

  “The jar fell onto my spout! She broke it off!” sobbed the water jug. “What am I good for now?”

  “I neither fell nor broke anything,” countered the jar. “It was the pitcher’s doing; he stumbled and fell against a stone.”

  “Mistress, believe me!” said the pitcher, “I swear by the Sun your mother and the Moon your father that it was the jar’s fault. It was she who broke off my spout!”

  “That settles it, Jar, it must have been your fault,” said the first wife.

  Her husband did not wait to hear the end of their argument; he stepped out of his hiding place and said to his wife:

  “I swear by the Sun your mother and the Moon your father that I have waited too long for you to speak! Talk to me, please.”

  When she heard these words, the first wife ran to her husband’s side. He kissed her and she kissed him.

  And they lived happily year after year.

  God sweeten the days of the listeners here!

  A HOUSE WITHOUT WORRIES

  My back is bent

  My strength is spent,

  My mind is gone

  My days are done,

  The end is near

  Lay me on a wooden bier,

  Let the worms have good cheer.

  THEY SAY, THOUGH GOD alone is All-Knowing, that there was an old woman whose back was bent and strength was spent. Her mind was gone and her days were done. She was close to death and the worms awaited her.

  The old woman was worn out and exhausted; she was unable to fall asleep. Night after night she tried but it was no use. She said to herself that what she needed was to find a home untouched by worries or cares; in such a peaceful place she would be able to sleep. She knocked on her neighbor’s door and asked:

  “Do you have any worries, my child?”

  The neighbor answered:

  “I have worries above me and below me, Aunt; I am crushed by worry!”

  The old woman knocked at another neighbor’s door:

  “My child, do you have any worries?”

  “‘To each as much worry as he can carry,’ none of us is free of care,” sighed the neighbor.

  Wherever the old woman knocked at a door she would hear complaints and laments and weeping.

  That is, until she reached a certain house where she asked her question and the woman inside said:

  “Worry? What does that mean?”

  “Yes!” the woman cried, “‘The camel driver knew where to make a halt,’ as they say.” And she explained how she was searching for a house untouched by care where she could rest for a while and get some sleep.

  “You are welcome!” said the young woman and invited her in, offering her food and hospitality. Then, after gathering some twigs into a bundle, she waited for her husband’s return.

  When the husband came home in the evening, they all sat down together, eating and drinking and talking. As soon as they had finished their meal, the husband took up the bundle of twigs and fell upon his wife, beating her with one switch after the other, saying:

  “Where is the pain you feel?

  I’ll surely help you heal.

  This lash will flay you

  This one will slay you

  And this will make you fall

  And crack your skull against the wall.”

  With each blow he would ask her a question and she would answer him:

  “Is there anyone pleasanter than I am?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anyone handsomer than I am?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anyone cleverer than I am?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anyone wealthier than I am?”

  “No.”

  When he’d used all the switches, the husband turned on his heel and left the house. The wife picked herself up and gathered the twigs into a bundle again. The old woman said:

  “Such a beating, my child, and yet you claim you have no troubles! Why does he do it?”

  So the woman told her:

  “One day my husband brought home some grapes: a bunch of white grapes and a bunch of black ones. I said: ‘How beautiful the black grapes look lying on top of the white.’ From that moment he began to beat me every day. He must have interpreted my remark with some meaning of his own.”

  The old woman advised her:

  “Listen to me, my child. If you want your husband to stop this ritual, the next time he asks his questions, say ‘Yes! There is!’”

  “And what if he asks who it is?” said the woman.

  “Just tell him it is Shah Bandar of the Merchants,” said the old woman. Then bidding her goodbye, she continued on her way.

  On the following day the young woman set out the bundle of switches as usual. After they had eaten their supper the husband began to beat her:

  “Do you still feel sore?

  Here’s my cure once more.

  This blow will flay you This one will slay you,

  This one will split your head And fill you full of dread.”

  With every stroke he asked his usual questions but she did not give her usual answers:

  “Is there anyone pleasanter than I am?”

  “Yes, there is!”

  “Is there anyone handsomer than I am?”

  “Yes, there is!”

  “Is there anyone cleverer than I am?”

  “Yes, there is!”

  “Is there anyone wealthier than I am?”

  “Yes, there is!”

  This drove her husband mad. He stopped short and shouted:

  “If there is such a one, who is he?”

  “Shah Bandar of the Merchants,” replied his wife.

  All that night the husband lay awake and could not sleep. Early the next morning he started out in search of this man. He traveled through many parts, up one country and down the next; “one place lifted him and another set him down,” as they say. At last he came to a walled city. There he saw a carriage inlaid with corals and pearls. He asked the people around him who owned such a costly carriage. They said:

  “It belongs to Shah Bandar of the Merchants!”

  “I have come to the right place!” said the husband to himself. “This is the very man I am after!”

  He followed the carriage until it stopped in front of a palace. There he waited on Shah Bandar of the Merchants, introducing himself and greeting him. He said that he had traveled a long way to come and tell him a story. Shah Bandar invited him to enter and asked what this story was. So the husband told his tale saying, “This and this and this happened and then she gave me your name.”

  Shah Bandar asked some questions:

  “Is your wife beautiful?”
r />   “Yes.”

  “Is your wife young?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your wife bright?”

  “Yes.”

  So he gave the husband a comb made of ivory and said:

  “Here is a present for your wife. She can comb her hair with it and wear it too.”

  The man returned to his wife, gave her the comb and said: “He has sent you a gift.”

  The woman bathed herself and arranged her hair. But the instant she stuck the comb in her braid she felt a flutter and was lifted into the air. She flew and flew until she landed beside Shah Bandar of the Merchants. When Shah Bandar saw her, he cried out:

  “Praise the Lord, Creator of such perfection!”

  He welcomed the woman with open arms and asked her to be his wife.

  Finding happiness in each other

  And lived free of worry and bother.

  A long life of contentment and ease

  That blessed them with all things that please.

  THE PRINCE AND THE GOATHERD

  Let us begin by saying

  There is no God but God.

  THERE WAS OR THERE WAS NOT, O gracious listeners, an Emir, a prince of the Arabs of the desert. He ruled over wide spaces and his subjects were many. Every day he stood at his window looking through a long telescope, wishing to observe his people. In this way he was aware of everything that occurred in his territory.

  One day he noticed in the distance a hut that stood empty. He kept looking and saw that a man lived in it who was poor and whose only possession was a goat. Every morning the man went out with his goat, and his stick slung over one shoulder. Every evening he returned.

  The prince wondered how the man was able to live in isolation from the world, owning nothing but this goat. He determined to take a closer look. One day he decided to disguise himself so that he could mingle with the people without being recognized and check on their welfare. Among the rest, he wanted to pass by the goatherd.

  It took a long walk to reach the distant hut. The prince knocked on the door and introduced himself as a wandering dervish. The goatherd received him and bid him enter saying:

  “Welcome to you, O Dervish of the Blessings!”

  The two men conversed and the prince discovered that the goatherd did indeed live by himself and that he owned nothing besides the goat. The goat’s milk was his food and also some vegetables he grew in the ground nearby.

  The dervish-prince began to feel thirsty and asked the goatherd for a drink. Immediately the man hurried to milk his goat and offer the dervish a drink of milk. After a while the prince felt hungry and asked the goatherd for something to eat. Quickly he slaughtered his goat, grilled the meat and offered it to the dervish to eat.

  The prince was overwhelmed by the man’s kind welcome and his generosity. He wanted to express his appreciation and his respect so he said:

  “I am grateful to you for your hospitality. I don’t know how to reciprocate. But take this letter and present it to the Emir of the desert Arabs. He lives in the town on the other side of the quarter and surely he will reward you.”

  With that the prince took his leave and returned to his castle.

  The goatherd murmured to himself:

  “Let me decide about the letter in the morning. As they say: ‘Start early in the day to earn good pay.’”

  But the next morning he felt hesitant about going to the Emir, thinking:

  “To address a plea to any but God is debasing.”

  On the following day he had another thought:

  “Why not go and try my luck?”

  On the third day he woke up hungry. So he put his cap on his head and slung his stick across his shoulders and set out. He went walking and walking until he arrived at the Emir’s town. There were crowds of people in the open square listening to the final words of a speech the Emir was giving:

  “O my people! O my Tribe!

  Let whoever wants sustenance seek it from God.

  Do not ask for sympathy; do not ask for help from your fellows.

  Go in peace and let each of you look to himself and God’s mercy!”

  When the crowd dispersed, the goatherd remained alone in the square pondering what the Emir had said, thinking: “How can I ask this man for anything after such a statement?” He tore up the letter, picked up his stick, and returned the way he had come.

  He traveled a long way before he came to a wide river and sat down on the riverbank to rest. He began poking his stick in the water. Suddenly he found he could no longer move it; the stick had caught on something. He got up and pulled and pulled until he saw that the stick had hooked onto a ring attached to a large tin chest. He waded into the water and dragged the chest to shore. There he opened it and looked inside and could not believe his eyes. It held a rich treasure: piles of gold coins heaped together and glistening in the sunlight. The sight of such wealth restored the goatherd’s energy. He jumped up, lifted the tin chest and carried it all the way back to the town. He cashed the gold, bought cattle and tents and returned to his own place. Now he was able to build himself a house, farm the land, and employ servants and attendants to work for him.

  Days came and days went and the goatherd lived happily and in peace. Then one morning the prince looked through his telescope and saw that the goatherd’s hut had become a house, his land was ploughed and planted, and he had numerous tents and herds of cattle. So once more he dressed himself as a wandering dervish and went to visit.

  The goatherd greeted him saying;

  “Welcome to the Dervish of Blessings! Welcome to the guest! Bring on the she-camels. Slaughter them in his honor.”

  The prince asked the goatherd to tell his story. So the man recounted how he used to live alone with his goat and how there came “a dervish just like your Grace,” who proved that, in the end, all blessings and good fortune are from God. In his turn, the prince revealed who he was. He explained that he himself was the dervish who had called on him before and that he had been deeply touched when the goatherd slaughtered his goat to feed him. The men embraced and swore brotherhood to each other.

  From then on, the prince’s visits to the goatherd became more frequent and the goatherd was often the subject of the prince’s conversation. This became a source of worry for the prince’s vizier; jealousy consumed him and he began to fear for his position. He said to the prince:

  “This man used to be a humble goatherd. Now that he has become a man of wealth, he is like an Emir. Beware of him!”

  “I have no reason to doubt him,” said the prince.

  The vizier said:

  “He may well be aiming to replace you. Is it not better to get rid of him rather than wait for him to depose you?”

  The prince was uncertain but finally he said:

  “What do you suggest?”

  “This man is a Bedouin,” said the vizier. “He can foresee the future, he is a seer. Ask him to interpret a dream for you and if his answer displeases you, cut off his head.”

  The prince summoned the goatherd and said:

  “I have had a disturbing dream. In it a black dog barked into my face three times. Can you explain what that means?”

  The vizier meanwhile sat nearby watching the goatherd from the corner of his eye, trying to hide a knowing smile.

  “A black dog that growled three times?” asked the goatherd shaking his head. Then he said:

  “With the first grrr – ow – ow the dog seemed to say ‘glow’ meaning: ‘The candle will forever glow.’”

  The prince understood the interpretation to be that he would continue to rule as Emir undiminished.

  “With the second grrr – ow – ow the dog was saying ‘grow’ meaning: ‘To the height of the tree the sapling will never grow.’”

  The prince understood the goatherd to say that he would never usurp the Emir’s title.

  “With the third grrr – ow – ow the dog seemed to say ‘woe’ meaning ‘God’s curse on him who conspires to create woe.’�
�

  The prince understood that the bringer of woe was the vizier himself who had been plotting the goatherd’s downfall. He gave orders for the vizier to be executed and replaced him with the goatherd.

  As for me – when I departed that place the Emir was still ruling his people with equity and justice.

  LADY TANAQEESH AND THE EGGS OF THE TAWAWEES

  THERE WAS A MAN WHO LIVED with his three daughters.

  The name of the eldest was Dolaban, the middle daughter was called Shamlakan, and the youngest, Lady Tanaqeesh. The prettiest and brightest and most pleasant of the three was Lady Tanaqeesh, and her father loved her dearly. Naturally, her two older sisters were jealous of her:

  “She gets the tastiest treats, the sweetest words, the morning smiles and goodnight kisses. Our father’s affection is showered on her alone.”

  One spring day, the girls’ father was preparing to go on a journey to Damascus. He asked his daughters what gifts they wanted him to bring back for them.

  Dolaban said: “I want a wooden chest – a dolab.”

  Shamlakan said: “I want a woolen vest – a shamla.”

  And Lady Tanaqeesh said: “I wish you would bring me a dress with sleeves that clap and hems that dance.”

  Their father bid his daughters goodbye and departed. He was still away on his travels at Eastertide, the season for boiling eggs. People used to eat them on the day they call “Thursday of the Eggs” to ward off scabies.

  It happened that on that day a peddler passed in front of the girls’ house calling:

  “Tawawees eggs for sale! Peacock eggs are what I’m selling!

  They get a girl with child without a groom or wedding.”

  The two older sisters smiled. They understood each other perfectly. No need for words. Down they ran to the peddler and bought the eggs that bring on pregnancy. Then they called to the youngest sister:

  “Lady Tanaqeesh, today it is your turn to look out for the wheat.”

  The wheat was spread on the flat rooftop of their house to dry in the sun and the girls took turns to guard it from the birds. The older sisters said: