Arabian Nights

by Richard Burton

  When Ja’afar heard his words, he was astounded that the murder of the damsel and all the misery related to it could have been caused by his slave. He was sorry for the slave, with whom he had a good relationship, but he also rejoiced about his own escape from death. Then he took the slave’s hand and led him to the caliph’s palace, where he related the story from first to last, and the caliph was extremely astonished and then laughed until he fell on his back. Then he ordered that the story be recorded and made public among the people. But Ja’afar said, “You may find this adventure astonishing, Commander of the Faithful, but it is not as wondrous as the story of the Vizier Nur al-Din Ali of Egypt and his brother Shams al-Din Mohammed.”

  “What can be more marvelous than this adventure?” the caliph said. “Out with it!”

  “My lord,” Ja’afar answered, “I’ll only tell it to you on the condition that you’ll pardon my slave.”

  “If your story is indeed more wondrous than that of the three apples,” the caliph said, “I’ll grant you his blood, but if not, I’ll definitely slay him.”

  So Ja’afar began in these words

  The Tale of Nur al-Din Ali and His Son

  In times gone by the land of Egypt was ruled by a generous and just sultan, one who loved the pious and the poor and who associated with the olema and learned men. Now, he had a vizier who was wise and experienced in the affairs and art of government. This minister, who was a very old man, had two sons like two moons, for no one had ever seen such handsome and graceful young men. The elder was called Shams al-Din Mohammed and the younger Nur al-Din Ali. Among the two, it was the younger who was more handsome and more pleasing, so that people heard about his fame in foreign countries and men flocked to Egypt just for the purpose of seeing him.

  In the course of time their father, the vizier, died and was deeply missed and mourned by the sultan, who sent for his two sons, and after presenting them with robes of honor, he said to them, “Don’t trouble yourselves, for you shall both replace your father and be joint ministers of Egypt.”

  Upon hearing this they rejoiced, kissed the ground before him, and performed the ceremonial mourning for their father one whole month. After that time was over, they became viziers, and their father’s office passed into their hands, with each doing his duty for a week at a time. They lived under the same roof, and their word was one. Whenever the sultan desired to travel, they took turns attending him.

  Now, it happened one night that the sultan decided to set out on a journey the next morning, and the elder, whose turn it was to accompany him, was sitting and conversing with his brother and said to him, “My brother, it’s my wish that we both marry two sisters, and sleep with them on the same night, and they shall conceive on their wedding nights and bear children to us on the same day. And by Allah’s will, your wife will bear you a son, and my wife will bear me a daughter. Then we’ll wed them to each other, for they will be cousins.”

  “What dowry will you require from my son for your daughter?” Nur al-Din asked.

  “I shall take three thousand dinars, three pleasure gardens, and three farms,” said Shams al-Din. “It would not be fitting if the youth agreed to take less than this.”

  When Nur al-Din heard this demand, he replied, “Is this the kind of dowry that you would impose on my son? Don’t you realize that we are brothers and both, by Allah’s grace, vizers and equal in office? It’s really your duty to offer your daughter to my son without a marriage settlement. Or, if one is necessary, then it should be nominal or a public gesture of some kind. Indeed, you know that the male is more valuable than the female, and our memory will be preserved by my son, not by your daughter.”

  “But what is she to have?” asked Shams al-Din.

  “We won’t be remembered among the lords of the earth through her,” Nur a-Din stated. “But I see you’d like to treat me according to the saying—if you want to bluff off a buyer, keep asking him for a higher price. Or do as a man did who needed something and went to a friend for help and was answered, ‘You’re welcome to it, but come tomorrow and I’ll give you what you need.’ Whereupon the other replied in verse:

  “When he who is asked a favor says ‘tomorrow,’

  The wise man knows ’tis vain to beg or borrow.”

  “Basta!” said Shams al-Din. “I see that you don’t respect me, since you’re placing more value on your son than on my daughter. And it’s plain to see that you lack manners and understanding. Let me remind you, as your elder brother, that I decided to let you share the vizier’s office out of pity, not wishing to mortify you, so that you could help me as a kind of assistant. But, by Allah, since you talk this way, I’ll never marry my daughter to your son. Never, not for her weight in gold!”

  When Nur al-Din heard his brother’s words, he became angry and said, “And I, too, will never, never marry my son to your daughter, even if it would mean my death!”

  Shams al-Din replied, “I wouldn’t accept him as a husband, since he isn’t even worth the tip of her toenail! If I weren’t about to travel, I would make an example of you. However, when I return, I’ll show you how I can assert my dignity and vindicate my honor. But let Allah’s will be done.”

  When Nur al-Din heard all this from his brother, he became furious and lost his head, but he hid what he felt and held his peace. The brothers spent the night far apart from one another, each fuming with anger at the other.

  As soon as dawn arrived, the sultan journeyed forth in state and crossed over from Cairo to Jizah and headed for the Pyramids, accompanied by the vizier Shams al-Din, for it was his turn of duty. Meanwhile his brother, Nur al-Din, who had spent the night in rage, rose with the light and said the dawn prayer. Then he went to his treasury, took a small pair of saddlebags, and filled them with gold. All the while he recalled his brother’s threats and the contempt that his brother had shown him, and he said to himself, “Travel, and you’ll find new friends to replace the old ones left behind. There’s no honor in staying at home.” So he ordered one of his pages to saddle his Nubian mule. Now she was a dapple-gray mule with ears like reed pens and legs like columns and a back high and strong as a dome built on pillars. Her saddle was made of gold cloth and her stirrups of Indian steel. Indeed, she had trappings that could serve the Chosroës, and she was like a bride adorned for her wedding night. Moreover, Nur al-Din ordered a piece of silk to be laid on her back for a seat along with a prayer carpet, under which were his saddlebags. When this was done, he said to his pages and slaves, “I intend to go on a small trip outside the city on the road to Kalyub. I’ll spend three nights away, and I don’t want any of you to follow me, for there is something troubling my heart.”

  Then he took some provisions for the journey, mounted the mule in haste, and set out from Cairo into the open and wild countryside around it. About noon he reached the city of Bilbay, where he dismounted and stayed awhile to rest himself and his mule. After eating some of his victuals, he bought all that he needed for himself and his mule and continued on his journey. Toward nightfall he entered a town called Sa’adiyah, where he dismounted and ate some of his food. Then he spread his strip of silk on the sand and set the saddlebags under his head and slept in the open air, for he was still filled with anger. When morning arrived, he mounted and rode onward until he reached the Holy City of Jerusalem, and from there he went to Aleppo, where he dismounted at one of the caravan stops and stayed three days to rest himself and the mule and taste the air.

  Determined to travel afar, he set out again, wandering without knowing where he was going. After having joined a group of couriers, he kept traveling until he reached Bassorah and did not even know what the place was. It was pitch-black when he arrived at the khan, so he spread out his prayer carpet, took down the saddlebags from the back of the mule, and told the doorkeeper to walk her about, and the porter did as he was requested to do.

  Now it so happened that the vizier of Bassorah, a very old man, was sitting at the lattice window of his mansion opposite the
khan, and he saw the porter walking the mule up and down. He was struck by her priceless trappings and thought her a nice beast suited for viziers or even for royalty. The more he looked, the more he was perplexed, and he finally said to one of his pages, “Bring me the porter over there.”

  The page went and returned with the porter, who kissed the ground, and the minister asked him, “Who is the owner of that mule you’re walking, and what kind of man is he?”

  “My lord,” he answered, “the owner of this mule is a handsome young man, very pleasant but also grave and dignified. Undoubtedly he is one of the sons of the merchants.”

  When the vizier heard the porter’s words, he arose right away, mounted his horse, rode over to the khan, and entered it to see Nur al-Din. As the minister advanced toward him, Nur al-Din stood up and greeted him. The vizier welcomed him to Bassorah, embraced him, made him sit by his side, and asked, “My son, where have you come from, and what are you doing here?”

  “My lord,” Nuir al-Din replied, “I’ve come from Cairo, where my father was the vizier, but he has died,” and he continued to inform him of all that had happened to him from beginning to end, whereupon he added, “And now I’m determined never to return home until I have seen all the cities and countries of the world.”

  When the vizier heard this, he said to him, “My son, don’t let yourself be carried away by your emotions, or you’ll become your own worst enemy. It makes no sense to wander aimlessly. Many regions are just wastelands, and I fear that fortune may turn against you.” Then he had the saddlebags, the silk, and the prayer carpets loaded on the mule and brought Nur al-Din to his own house, where he lodged him in a pleasant place, treated him honorably, and indulged him, for he was extremely fond of him. After a while the vizier said to him, “Here I am, a man rich in years, but I have no sons. Fortunately, Allah has blessed me with a daughter who can match you in her beauty. Now, I’ve rejected all her suitors, men of rank and substance, but my affection for you has become deep, and I would like you to become her husband. If you accept, I’ll go with you to the sultan of Bassorah and tell him that you are my nephew, the son of my brother. I’ll arrange it so that you will be appointed vizier in my place so that I may keep the house, for I am stricken in years and have become weary.”

  When Nur al-Din heard the vizier’s words, he bowed his head in modesty and said, “As you wish.”

  At this the vizier rejoiced and ordered his servants to prepare a feast and decorate the great assembly hall in which they were accustomed to celebrate the marriages of emirs and nobles. Then he assembled the notables of the realm, the merchants of Bassorah, and his friends, and when they all stood before him, he said, “I had a brother who was a vizier in the land of Egypt, and Allah Almighty blessed him with two sons, while to me, as you all well know, He gave a daughter. My brother requested that I wed my daughter to one of his sons, and I agreed. Since my daughter is now of the age to marry, he sent me one of his sons, the young man now present, to whom I intend to marry her. So I’m drawing up the contract and celebrating the night of unveiling with due ceremony, for he is nearer and dearer to me than a stranger. After the wedding, if it pleases him, he will dwell with me, or if he prefers, I will enable him to travel with his wife to his father’s home.”

  Upon hearing this, everyone rejoiced and was pleased by the vizier’s choice of the bridegroom. Consequently, the vizier sent for the kazi and legal witnesses, and they wrote out the marriage contract, after which the slaves sprayed the guests with incense and served them with sherbet. Then they sprinkled them with rose water, and the people went their ways. Afterward the vizier ordered his servants to take Nur al-Din to the Hammam bath and sent him a suit of his own best raiment along with napkins, towels, bowls, perfume burners, and everything else that was necessary. When Nir al-Din came out of the bath and donned the garments, he was just like the full moon on the fourteenth night. Thereupon he mounted his mule and went straight to the vizier’s palace, where he dismounted and went in to see the minister and kissed his hands, and the vizier bade him welcome.

  And Scheherazade noticed that dawn was approaching and stopped telling her story. When the next night arrived, however, she received the king’s permission to continue her tale and said,

  After welcoming him, the vizier said, “Arise and go and see your wife tonight. Tomorrow I’ll bring you to the sultan, and I pray that Allah will bless you and look after your welfare.”

  So Nur al-Din left him and went to his wife, the vizier’s daughter. So much for Nur al-Din at present.

  In the meantime, his elder brother, Shams al-Din, was absent with the sultan a long time, and when he returned from his journey, he did not find his brother, and he asked his servants and slaves where he was.

  “On the day of your departure with the sultan,” they replied, “your brother had his mule groomed and outfitted as if for a state procession. Then he mounted it and told us that he was going toward Kalyub and would be absent three days, for his heart was disturbed, and he didn’t want any one of us to follow him. Well, ever since he left, we’ve had no news of him.”

  Shams al-Din was greatly troubled by the sudden disappearance of his brother and grieved at his loss. “This is only because I chided and upbraided him the night before my departure with the sultan,” he said to himself. “Most likely his feelings were hurt, and he decided to go off traveling, but I must send after him.”

  Then he went to the sultan and acquainted him with what had happened. Next he wrote letters and sent dispatches carried by couriers to his deputies in every province. But during the twenty days of Shams al-Din’s absence, Nur al-Din had traveled far and had reached Bassorah. So after a diligent search the messengers failed to come up with any news of him and returned to Cairo. As a result, Shams al-Din despaired of finding his brother and said, “In truth, I exceeded the bounds of propriety in regard to the marriage of our children. If only I had not done that! All this comes from my carelessness and stupidity!”

  Soon after this he sought the hand of the daughter of a Cairo merchant, drew up the marriage contract, and celebrated a splendid wedding with her. And so it happened that he slept with his wife on the very same night that Nur al-Din also slept with his wife, the daughter of the vizier of Bassorah. Of course, all this was in accordance with the will of Almighty Allah so that He might determine the destiny of His creatures. Furthermore, everything turned out as the brothers had said it would, for their two wives became pregnant by them on the same night, and both gave birth on the same day: the wife of Shams al-Din, vizier of Egypt, had a daughter, whose beauty was unmatched in Cairo; the wife of Nur al-Din had a handsome son, whose looks were incomparable in his time. They named the boy Badar al-Din Hasan, and his grandfather, the vizier of Bassorah, rejoiced when he was born, and on the seventh day after his birth, he held a banquet with entertainment that would have befitted the birth of a prince’s son. Then he took Nur al-Din to the sultan, and his son-in-law kissed the ground in homage. In response, the sultan rose up to honor them and asked the vizier who the young man was. And the minister answered, “This is my brother’s son,” and related his tale from first to last.

  “Well, how is it that he’s your nephew,” the sultan asked, “and we’ve never heard of him before this?”

  “My lord,” the vizier responded, “I had a brother who was a vizier in the land of Egypt, and he died and left behind two sons. The eldest took his father’s place, and the younger, whom you see before you, came to me, for I had sworn that I would not marry my daughter to anyone but him. So, when he came, I married her to him. Now he is young, and I am old. My hearing has become weak, and my judgment is easily fooled. Therefore, I would like to request, my lord, that you let him take my place, for he is my brother’s son and my daughter’s wife. Moreover, he is fit to become a vizier, since he is a wise and cunning young man.”

  The sultan looked at Nur al-Din and took a liking to him. So he established him in the office of the vizier, and he presented him wit
h a splendid robe of honor and a mule from his private stables. In addition, he gave him a salary, stipends, and supplies. Nur al-Din kissed the sultan’s hand and went home with his father-in-law in a most joyous mood.

  “All this follows on the heels of the boy Hasan’s birth!” he said.

  The next day he presented himself before the sultan and kissed the ground. Then the sultan asked him to sit down in the vizier’s seat. So he sat down and began to address the business of his office. He went into the cases of the lieges and their suits, as is the custom of the ministers, while the sultan watched him and admired his wit, good sense, judgment, and insight. Indeed, he became deeply fond of him and took him into his confidence. When the divan was dismissed, Nur al-Din returned to his house and related what had happened to his father-in-law, who rejoiced. From then on Nur al-Din continued to serve as vizier, and the sultan sought his company day and night. Moreover, he increased his stipends and supplies until Nur al-Din’s means were ample, and he became the owner of ships that made trading voyages at his command. He also possessed numerous mamelukes and blackamoor slaves, and he had many estates developed and set up Persian wheels and planted gardens. When his son, Hasan, was four, the old vizier died, and Nur al-Din arranged for a sumptuous funeral ceremony for his father-in-law before he was laid to dust. Then he concerned himself with the education of his son, and when the strong and healthy boy turned seven, he brought him a fakih, a doctor of law and religion, to teach him in his own house. Indeed, he charged the fakih to give him a good education and instruct him in politeness and good manners. So the tutor made the boy read and retain all kinds of useful knowledge as well as learn the Koran by heart. At the same time he continued to grow handsome and strong.