by Robert Irwin
When the young prince said to the she-ghoul, ‘I have been unfairly treated,’ she replied, ‘Ask God for help, and He will protect you from harm.’ The young prince raised his eyes to Heaven and said, ‘O Lord, help me to prevail upon my enemy, for “everything is within your power”‘. When the she-ghoul heard his invocation, she gave up and departed, and he returned safely to his father and told him about the vizier and how it was he who had urged him to pursue the beast and drove him to his encounter with the she-ghoul. The king summoned the vizier and had him put to death.
The vizier added, ‘You too, your Majesty, if you trust, befriend, and bestow favours on this sage, he will plot to destroy you and cause your death. Your Majesty should realize that I know for certain that he is a foreign agent who has come to destroy you. Haven’t you seen that he cured you externally, simply with something you held in your hand?’ King Yunan, who was beginning to feel angry, replied, ‘You are right, vizier. The sage may well be what you say and may have come to destroy me. He who has cured me with something to hold can kill me with something to smell.’ Then the king asked the vizier, ‘My vizier and good counsellor, how should I deal with him?’ The vizier replied, ‘Send for him now and have him brought before you, and when he arrives, strike off his head. In this way, you will attain your aim and fulfil your wish.’ The king said, ‘This is good and sound advice.’ Then he sent for the sage Duban, who came immediately, still feeling happy at the favours, the money, and the robes the king had bestowed on him. When he entered, he pointed with his hand toward the king and began to recite the following verses:
If I have been remiss in thanking you,
For whom then have I made my verse and prose?
You granted me your gifts before I asked,
Without deferment and without excuse.
How can I fail to praise your noble deeds,
Inspired in private and in public by my muse?
I thank you for your deeds and for your gifts,
Which, though they bend my back, my care reduce.
The king asked, ‘Sage, do you know why I have had you brought before me?’ The sage replied, ‘No, your Majesty.’ The king said, ‘I brought you here to have you killed and to destroy the breath of life within you.’ In astonishment Duban asked, ‘Why does your Majesty wish to have me put to death, and for what crime?’ The king replied, ‘I have been told that you are a spy and that you have come to kill me. Today I will have you killed before you kill me. I will have you for lunch before you have me for dinner.’ Then the king called for the executioner and ordered him, saying, ‘Strike off the head of this sage and rid me of him! Strike!’
When the sage heard what the king said, he knew that because he had been favoured by the king, someone had envied him, plotted against him, and lied to the king, in order to have him killed and get rid of him. The sage realized then that the king had little wisdom, judgment, or good sense, and he was filled with regret, when it was useless to regret. He said to himself, ‘There is no power and no strength, save in God the Almighty, the Magnificent. I did a good deed but was rewarded with an evil one.’ In the meantime, the king was shouting at the executioner, ‘Strike off his head.’ The sage implored, ‘Spare me, your Majesty, and God will spare you; destroy me, and God will destroy you.’ He repeated the statement, just as I did, O demon, but you too refused, insisting on killing me. King Yunan said to the sage, ‘Sage, you must die, for you have cured me with a mere handle, and I fear that you can kill me with anything.’ The sage replied, ‘This is my reward from your Majesty. You reward good with evil.’ The king said, ‘Don’t stall; you must die today without delay.’ When the sage Duban became convinced that he was going to die, he was filled with grief and sorrow, and his eyes overflowed with tears. He blamed himself for doing a favour for one who does not deserve it and for sowing seeds in a barren soil and recited the following verses:
Maimuna was a foolish girl,
Though from a sage descended,
And many with pretence to skill
Are e’en on dry land upended.
The executioner approached the sage, bandaged his eyes, bound his hands, and raised the sword, while the sage cried, expressed regret, and implored, ‘For God’s sake, your Majesty, spare me, and God will spare you; destroy me, and God will destroy you.’ Then he tearfully began to recite the following verses:
They who deceive enjoy success,
While I with my true counsel fail
And am rewarded with disgrace.
If I live, I’ll nothing unveil;
If I die, then curse all the men,
The men who counsel and prevail.
Then the sage added, ‘Is this my reward from your Majesty? It is like the reward of the crocodile.’ The king asked, ‘What is the story of the crocodile?’ The sage replied, ‘I am in no condition to tell you a story. For God’s sake, spare me, and God will spare you. Destroy me, and God will destroy you,’ and he wept bitterly.
Then several noblemen approached the king and said, ‘We beg your Majesty to forgive him for our sake, for in our view, he has done nothing to deserve this.’ The king replied, ‘You do not know the reason why I wish to have him killed. I tell you that if I spare him, I will surely perish, for I fear that he who has cured me externally from my affliction, which had defied the Greek sages, simply by having me hold a handle, can kill me with anything I touch. I must kill him, in order to protect myself from him.’ The sage Duban implored again, Tor God’s sake, your Majesty, spare me, and God will spare you. Destroy me, and God will destroy you.’ The king insisted, ‘I must kill you.’
Demon, when the sage realized that he was surely going to die, he said, ‘I beg your Majesty to postpone my execution until I return home, leave instructions for my burial, discharge my obligations, distribute alms, and donate my scientific and medical books to one who deserves them. I have in particular a book entitled The Secret of Secrets, which I should like to give you for safekeeping in your library.’ The king asked, ‘What is the secret of this book?’ The sage replied, ‘It contains countless secrets, but the chief one is that if your Majesty has my head struck off, opens the book on the sixth leaf, reads three lines from the left page, and speaks to me, my head will speak and answer whatever you ask.’
The king was greatly amazed and said, ‘Is it possible that if I cut off your head and, as you say, open the book, read the third line, and speak to your head, it will speak to me? This is the wonder of wonders.’ Then the king allowed the sage to go and sent him home under guard. The sage settled his affairs and on the following day returned to the royal palace and found assembled there the princes, viziers, chamberlains, lords of the realm, and military officers, as well as the king’s retinue, servants, and many of his citizens. The sage Duban entered, carrying an old book and a kohl jar containing powder. He sat down, ordered a platter, and poured out the powder and smoothed it on the platter. Then he said to the king, ‘Take this book, your Majesty, and don’t open it until after my execution. When my head is cut off, let it be placed on the platter and order that it be pressed on the powder. Then open the book and begin to ask my head a question, for it will then answer you. There is no power and no strength save in God, the Almighty, the Magnificent. For God’s sake, spare me, and God will spare you; destroy me, and God will destroy you.’ The king replied, ‘I must kill you, especially to see how your head will speak to me.’ Then the king took the book and ordered the executioner to strike off the sage’s head. The executioner drew his sword and, with one stroke, dropped the head in the middle of the platter, and when he pressed the head on the powder, the bleeding stopped. Then the sage Durban opened his eyes and said, ‘Now, your Majesty, open the book.’ When the king opened the book, he found the pages stuck. So he put his finger in his mouth, wetted it with his saliva, and opened the first page, and he kept opening the pages with difficulty until he turned seven leaves. But when he looked in the book, he found nothing written inside, and he exclaimed, ‘Sage, I see nothin
g written in this book.’ The sage replied, ‘Open more pages.’ The king opened some more pages but still found nothing, and while he was doing this, the drug spread through his body – for the book had been poisoned – and he began to heave, sway, and twitch.
But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then her sister Dinarzad said, ‘Sister, what an amazing and entertaining story!’ Shahrazad replied, ‘What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night if the king spares me and lets me live!’
THE SEVENTEENTH NIGHT
The following night Dinarzad said to her sister Shahrazad, ‘Please, sister, if you are not sleepy, tell us one of your lovely little tales to while away the night.’ The king added, ‘Let it be the rest of the story of the sage and the king and of the fisherman and the demon.’ Shahrazad replied, ‘Very well, with the greatest pleasure.’
I heard, O King, that when the sage Duban saw that the drug had spread through the king’s body and that the king was heaving and swaying, he began to recite the following verses:
For long they ruled us arbitrarily,
But suddenly vanished their powerful rule.
Had they been just, they would have happily
Lived, but they oppressed, and punishing fate
Afflicted them with ruin deservedly,
And on the morrow the world taunted them,
‘’ Tis tit for tat; blame not just destiny.’
As the sage’s head finished reciting the verses, the king fell dead, and at that very moment the head too succumbed to death. Demon, consider this story.
But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then her sister Dinarzad said, ‘Sister, what an entertaining story!’ Shahrazad replied, ‘What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night if I live!’
Haddawy (trans.), The Arabian Nights, pp. 36–47
Stories about poisoned books have a long ancestry, going back to ancient Indian times.
The version of The Thousand and One Nights which circulated in the Mamluk period probably contained relatively few stories, artfully arranged in such a manner that they could – implicitly, at least – comment on one another. However, in the centuries which followed compilers and copyists swelled the bulk of the anthology with all manner of stories – with whatever took their fantasy. Large numbers of stories were added in the Ottoman period (from the early sixteenth century onwards). Many of these tales were pilfered from traditional anthologies of adab and featured the caliphs, their cup companions, and poets. Others were pietistic parables or Sufi teaching-stories. Some were animal fables. Some swashbuckling popular epics were used to increase the bulk of the Nights. Many of the added tales dealt with low-life exploits, or the buffoonery of drinkers and drug-takers. Adultery and the cunning of would-be adulterers were especially popular topics.
The Tale of Judar and His Brothers’, which is given below, is a superb tale of treasure-hunting and sorcery.
Once upon a time there was a merchant called Omar who had three sons: the eldest was named Salem, the second Seleem, and the youngest Judar. He reared them all to manhood, but the youngest he loved more than his brothers, so that they grew jealous of Judar and hated him. When Omar, who was by now well advanced in years, noticed that the two hated their brother, he feared that after his death Judar might come to mischief at their hands. He therefore summoned his kinsfolk together with some learned men and a number of property-dividers from the Cadi’s court, and said to them: ‘Bring me my money and all my goods.’ They brought him his money and his goods, and Omar said: ‘Friends, divide these things into four portions according to the law.’
They did so; and he gave each of his sons a portion and kept the last for himself, saying: ‘This is the sum of my property and I have divided it among my children in my lifetime, so that all disputes should be avoided. They shall have nothing to claim from each other after my death. The portion which I have kept for myself shall belong to my wife, the mother of these children, that she may have the wherewithal to support herself when I am gone.’
Shortly afterwards old Omar died, and the two elder brothers, not content with their inheritance, claimed a part of Judar’s share, saying: ‘Our father’s wealth has fallen into your hands.’
Judar referred the matter to the judges, and the Moslems who witnessed the division came and gave testimony. The judge dismissed their claim; but as a result of the dispute Judar lost a part of his property and so did his brothers. Yet it was not long before they plotted against him a second time, so that he was obliged to go to law again. The three lost more money at the hands of the judges. Bent on ruining Judar, his brothers pursued their claim from court to court; they lost, and he lost, until at length they were reduced to penury.
The two elder brothers then came to their mother; they cheated her of her money, beat her, and threw her out. In this state she came to Judar and told him what his brothers had done to her, cursing them bitterly.
‘Mother, do not curse them,’ Judar replied. ‘Allah will requite them for their deeds. We are paupers now; we have lost all our inheritance in suing one another and incurred disgrace in the sight of men. Am I to sue them again on your account? No, we must resign ourselves. Stay with me, and the bread I eat I will share with you. Allah will sustain us both. As for my brothers, leave them to Allah’s judgement.’ And he went on comforting his mother until he persuaded her to stay with him.
He bought a net, and every day he went to the river and the neighbouring lakes. One day he would earn ten coppers, another day twenty, and another thirty, so that he and his mother ate and drank well.
Meanwhile the two brothers squandered away the money which they had taken from their mother. Misery and ruin soon overtook them, for they neither bought nor sold, nor had any trade with which to earn a living. Naked and destitute, they would come from time to time humbling themselves before their mother and complaining of hunger. Her heart being compassionate, the old woman would feed them on mouldy bread or any remnants from the previous night’s supper.
‘Eat this quickly,’ she would say, ‘and go before your brother returns; for if he sees you here he will harden his heart against me and I shall justly earn his displeasure.’
So they would eat in haste and leave her. One day, however, as they sat eating the bread and cooked meat she had placed before. them, their brother Judar came in. Confused and ashamed, his mother hung her head and looked at the ground, fearing his anger. But Judar smiled at them.
‘Welcome, my brothers,’ he cried, ‘and may this day bring you joy! How is it that you have honoured me today with this visit?’
Then he embraced them lovingly, saying: ‘I never thought that you would keep away from me and your mother.’
‘By Allah, we have longed to see you, brother,’ they replied. ‘But we were stricken with remorse over what had passed between us, and shame prevented us from coming. That was the work of Satan, Allah’s curse be upon him! We have no blessing but you and our mother.’
‘And I have no blessing but you two,’ Judar answered.
‘May Allah bless you, my son,’ exclaimed the old woman, ‘and shower His abundance upon you. You are the most generous of us all!’
‘Stay and be welcome in this house,’ said Judar to his brothers. ‘Allah is bountiful; there is plenty here for all.’
He thus made peace with them, and they ate and stayed the night in his house.
Next morning, after they had breakfasted, Judar took up his net and went to work, trusting in Allah’s bounty. His brothers also went out, and came back at noon to eat with their mother. In the evening Judar returned, bringing meat and vegetables. In this way they lived together for a whole month, Judar paying for their daily needs with his fishing and his brothers eating their fill and making merry.
Now it chanced that one day Judar went down to the river, cast his net, and brought it up empty. He cast it a second time, and again it came up empty.
‘There are no fish in this place,
’ he muttered to himself, and moved to another spot. He cast his net there, but it still brought up nothing. In that way he moved farther and farther along the bank from morning till evening, but caught nothing at all.
‘This is indeed a strange thing!’ he exclaimed. ‘Are there no fish left in the river? Or is there some other reason?’
Dejected and sick at heart, he took up his net and made for home, troubled over his brothers and his mother; for he did not know what he could give them to eat. Presently he came to a baker’s shop and saw the people crowding round the bread with money in their hands. He stopped and sighed.
‘Welcome, Judar!’ the baker cried. ‘Do you want any bread?’
But Judar remained silent.
‘If you have no money with you,’ said the baker, ‘take what you need. You can pay me some other time.’
‘Give me ten halves’ worth of bread,’ said the fisherman.
The baker handed him the loaves together with ten halves, saying: ‘You can bring me fish for the twenty tomorrow.’
Judar warmly thanked the good man. He took the loaves and the ten halves and bought meat and vegetables with the money. ‘The Lord willing,’ he said to himself, ‘all will be well again tomorrow.’
His mother cooked the meal, and Judar had his supper and went to bed. Next morning he rose and took up his net.
‘Sit down and eat your breakfast,’ said his mother.
‘You have breakfast,’ he replied, ‘and my brothers.’
He went down to the river and cast his net time after time, moving from place to place until the afternoon; but all to no purpose. In despair he carried up his net and walked away. The baker saw him as he passed by, and gave him bread and ten coppers, as on the day before.
‘Here,’ he cried, ‘take this and go. If you had no luck today, you will have luck tomorrow.’
Judar wished to apologize, but the baker would not listen to him.
‘There is no need for apologies,’ he said. ‘When I saw you empty-handed I knew you had caught nothing. If you have no luck tomorrow, come again and take your bread. Let shame not prevent you; I will give you time to pay.’