The Arabian Nights (New Deluxe Edition)

by Muhsin Mahdi

  In his fine figure, with the slender bough.

  The sun sets in his cheeks’ anemones;

  The rising moon shines in his radiant brow.

  All grace is his, as if he does the earth

  With beauty from his boundless grace endow.

  Yet while he was growing up, he never ventured into the city until one day his father Nur al-Din Ali had him fully attired, placed him on a she-mule, and went with him through the city, on his way to the king. When the people looked at him and saw his face, they invoked God to save his beauty from harm, raising their voices in prayer for him and his father, as they crowded around him to look at his beauty, charm, and perfect grace. From that time on he rode with his father every day, and everyone who saw him marveled at his loveliness, for he was like the one of whom the poet said:

  When he appeared, they said, “May he be blessed,

  And glory to the God who fashioned such a one.”

  Above all lovely men he was the king,

  And they his subjects all, excepting none.

  The nectar of his mouth tasted so sweet,

  And like a row of pearls his white teeth shone.

  He garnered all the beauty of the world,

  Leaving all mortals helpless and undone.

  And on his cheeks beauty for all to see,

  Proclaimed, “No one is beautiful but he.”

  He bent coquettishly like a willow bough, and his cheeks resembled roses and anemones. With sweet speech, and a smile so radiant as to put the full moon to shame, he was the lovers’ trial and delight.

  When he reached the age of twenty, his father, Nur al-Din Ali, having grown feeble, summoned him and said, “Son, you should know that this world is temporary while the next is eternal. I wish to instruct you in what I have learned and understood. I have five admonitions for you.” Then he recalled his home and country and, thinking of his brother Shams al-Din, began to weep over his separation from those he loved and from his distant home, and as passion raged within him, he sighed deeply and repeated the following verses:

  I blame you and proclaim my ardent love.

  My body is here, my heart with you still.

  I did not wish to leave you, but our fate

  And God’s decree defeat the human will.

  When he finished reciting the verses and stopped weeping, he said to his son, “Son, before I give you advice, you should know that you have an uncle who is a vizier in Egypt and whom I left without his consent, as it had been foreordained.” Then he took a roll of paper and wrote down what had happened between him and his brother before his departure. Then he wrote down what had happened to him in Basra and how he had become a vizier, recording the date of the day on which he got married and the night on which he consummated the marriage, noting that he was less than forty years old on the day of the quarrel. He concluded by stating that this was his letter to his brother whom he commended to God’s care. Then he folded and sealed the scroll, saying, “O Hasan, my son, keep this scroll, and don’t ever part with it.” Hasan took it and hid it by sewing it into the skullcap of his turban, while his eyes filled with tears for parting from his father, who was entering the throes of death.

  But a while later his father opened his eyes and said, “O Hasan, my son, my first advice is that you should not mix or associate with anyone. If you do not, you will avoid trouble, for safety is in keeping aloof. I have heard the poet say:

  There is no man whose friendship you can trust,

  Nor is there true friend in adversity.

  Then live alone and lean for help on none.

  Let this advice of mine your lesson be.

  Second, O my son, oppress no one, lest fortune oppress you, for fortune is for you one day but against you another, and its gifts are a loan to be repaid. I have heard the poet say:

  Be careful and restrain your hasty wish;

  Be merciful to all, and they will mercy show.

  The hand of God is above every hand,

  And every tyrant shall another know.

  Third, hold your tongue and let your faults distract you from the faults of others. Preserve silence, for it is said, ‘In silence safety.’ I have heard the poet say:

  Silence is fair, safe taciturnity,

  So, if you speak, do not a babbler be.

  For if your silence may once bother you,

  Your uttered words you will forever rue.

  Fourth, O my son, beware of drinking wine, for wine is the root of all evil, because it robs man of reason. Beware, beware of drinking wine. I have heard the poet say:

  I have all wine forsworn

  And joined its many detractors,

  For wine leads man astray

  And opens all the evil doors.

  Last, O my son, protect your wealth, so that it may protect you, and watch over it, so that it may watch over you. Do not squander your substance, lest you become dependent on the meanest of men, and guard your money, for money is a salve. I have heard the poet say:

  When my wealth dwindles, all friends disappear;

  When it increases, all are friends to me.

  How many men for money were my friends,

  And when it went, how many left my company!

  Follow my advice.” He continued to exhort his son until his soul left his body. Then they burned incense around him and buried him.

  But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “Sister, what an entertaining story!” Shahrazad replied, “What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night if I stay alive!”

  THE SEVENTY-FIFTH NIGHT

  The following night Dinarzad said, “O sister, tell us the rest of the story.” Shahrazad replied, “With the greatest pleasure”:

  It is related, O King, that Ja’far said to the caliph:

  After the vizier died, his son Badr al-Din sat in mourning for two full months, without riding out or attending on the king until the king finally grew angry at him, summoned one of his chamberlains, and made him vizier. Then he bade him take chamberlains and envoys, seize the assets of the deceased Vizier Nur al-Din Ali, confiscate all his money, and seal up all his houses, goods, and possessions, without leaving a penny. The new vizier took with him chamberlains, envoys, guards, clerks, and treasury inspectors, and proceeded to the house of the Vizier Nur al-Din Ali. It happened that there was among the troops a man who had been one of the Mamluks of the Vizier Nur al-Din Ali, and when he heard this order, he spurred his horse and hurried to Badr al-Din Hasan. He found him sitting at the gate of his house, with downcast head and broken heart. He dismounted and, kissing his hand, said, “O my lord and son of my lord, hurry up, hurry up before death catches up with you.” Badr al-Din Hasan trembled and asked, “What is the matter?” The Mamluk replied, “The king is angry with you. He has ordered your arrest, and calamity is behind me on its way to you. Run for your life, and don’t fall into their hands, for they will not spare you.” Badr al-Din Hasan was terribly alarmed, and he paled and asked, “Brother, is there time for me to go into the house?” The Mamluk replied, “No, my lord. Rise this instant and flee your house.” Badr al-Din rose, repeating the following verses:

  If you suffer injustice, save yourself,

  And leave the house behind to mourn its builder.

  Your country you’ll replace by another,

  But for yourself you’ll find no other self.

  Nor with a mission trust another man,

  For none is as loyal as you yourself.

  And did the lion not struggle by himself,

  He would not prowl with such a mighty mane.

  He put on his shoes, and, covering his head with the hem of his outer robe, left in confusion, full of anxiety and fear, not knowing where he was proceeding or in which direction he was heading. At last he decided to go to his father’s sepulcher, and as he made his way among the tombs, he let fall from his head the hem of his outer robe, which was adorned with bands of brocaded taffeta embroidered with the fol
lowing lines in gold:

  You who with the dew and stars

  Do with face so radiant vie,

  May your fortune stay the same

  And your glory ever high.

  As he was walking, he met a Jew on his way to the city. He was a moneychanger carrying a basket, and when he saw Badr al-Din, he greeted him.

  But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “What an entertaining story!” Shahrazad replied, “What is this compared with what I shall tell you if I live!”

  THE SEVENTY-SIXTH NIGHT

  The following night, Dinarzad said to her sister, “Tell us the rest of the story.” Shahrazad said:

  It is related, O King, that Ja’far said to the caliph:

  When the Jew saw Badr al-Din, he kissed his hand and said, “My lord, where are you going, for it is near the end of the day; and you are lightly dressed and you look unhappy?” Badr al-Din replied, “I was asleep a while ago and saw my father in a dream. I woke up and came to visit him before nightfall.” The Jew replied, “My lord and master, before he died, your father had a seafaring trade, and many of his ships have just arrived with his goods. I would like to ask you as a favor not to sell the cargo to anyone but me.” Badr al-Din Hasan replied, “Very well.” The Jew said, “I will this instant buy from you the cargo of the first ship to arrive, for a thousand dinars.” Then he took out of the basket a sealed purse, opened it, and, setting up the scales, weighed twice until he had a thousand dinars. Badr al-Din Hasan said, “It is sold to you.” Then the Jew said, “My lord, write me an acknowledgment on a piece of paper.” Badr al-Din Hasan took a piece of paper and wrote on it, “Badr al-Din Hasan al-Basri has sold to Isaac the Jew the cargo of the first ship to arrive, for a thousand dinars, and has received the money.” The Jew said, “Put the paper into the purse,” and Badr al-Din placed the paper into the purse, tied it, sealed it, and attached it to his belt. Then he left the Jew and continued to make his way among the tombs until he reached his father’s sepulcher. There he sat and wept for a while and recited the following verses:

  Since you left me, home is no longer home,

  Nor is the neighbor neighbor, since you went away,

  Nor is the friend who kept me company

  The friend I knew, nor is the day bright day,

  Nor are the sun and moon that shone with light,

  The same, for they will never shine again.

  In desolation you have left the world,

  In gloomy darkness, every field and plain.

  O, may the crow that at our parting crowed

  His feathers lose and without’ shelter stand.

  My patience fails; my body wastes away;

  How many veils are torn by death’s cruel hand!

  I wonder, will our nights come back again,

  And will the old home once more hold us twain?

  Badr al-Din Hasan wept at his father’s tomb for a full hour, thinking of his plight and feeling at a loss what to do or where to go. As he wept, he laid his head on his father’s tomb until he fell asleep—Glory be to Him who sleeps not. He slept on till it was dark, when his head rolled off the tomb and he fell on his back and, with arms and legs outstretched, lay sprawling against the tomb.

  It happened that the cemetery was haunted by a demon who sought shelter there in the daytime and flew to another cemetery at night. When night came, the demon came out and was about to flyaway, when he saw a man, fully dressed, lying on his back. When he drew near him and looked at his face, he was startled by and amazed at his beauty.

  But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “Sister, what an entertaining story!” Shahrazad replied, “What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night if I stay alive!”

  THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH NIGHT

  The following night Shahrazad said:

  It is related, O King, that Ja’far said to the caliph:

  When the demon looked at Hasan al-Basri, who lay asleep on his back, he marveled at his beauty, saying to himself, “This can be none other than one of the children of Paradise, whom God has created to tempt all mortals.” He looked upon him for a long time; then he flew up in the air, rising until he was between the heaven and the earth, where he ran into a flying she-demon. He asked her. “Who are you?” and she replied, “I am a she-demon.” Then he greeted her and asked her, “She-demon, will you come with me to my cemetery to see what the Almighty God has created among men?” She replied, “Very well.” Then they both flew down to the cemetery, and as they stood there, the demon asked, “In all your life, have you ever seen a young man more beautiful than this one?” When the she-demon looked at Badr al-Din and examined his face, she said, “Glory be to Him who has no rival. By God, brother, by your leave, I will tell you about an extraordinary thing I witnessed this very night in the land of Egypt.” The demon said, “Tell me.” The she-demon said, “Demon, you should know that there is in the city of Cairo a king who has a vizier named Shams al-Din Muhammad. That vizier has a daughter who is about twenty years old and who bears the most striking resemblance to this young man, for with an elegant and fine figure, she is endowed with beauty, charm, and perfect grace. When she approached the age of twenty, the king of Egypt heard of her and, summoning the vizier her father, said to him, ‘Vizier, it has come to my knowledge that you have a daughter, and I wish to demand her of you in marriage.’ The vizier replied, ‘O King, accept my apology and do not reproach me but grant me your indulgence. As you know, I had a brother called Nur al-Din, who shared the vizierate with me in your service. It happened that one night we sat discussing marriage and children, but the next morning he disappeared, and for twenty years I have never heard of him. Recently, however, I heard, O King of the age, that he had died in Basra, where he was a vizier, leaving behind a son. Having recorded the date of the day I got married, the night I went in to my wife, and the day she gave birth, I have reserved my daughter for her cousin; besides, there are plenty of other women and girls for our lord the king.’ When the king heard the vizier’s answer, he was angry.”

  But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “Sister, what an entertaining story!” Shahrazad replied, “What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night if I stay alive!”

  THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT

  The following night Shahrazad said:

  It is related, O King, that Ja’far said to the caliph:

  The she-demon said to the demon, “The king, angry at the answer of his vizier Shams al-Din, said to him, ‘Damn you, Someone like me asks the likes of you for his daughter in marriage, yet you put me off with a lame excuse,’ and he swore to marry her to none but the meanest of his servants. It happened that the king had a hunchbacked groom with two humps, one behind and one in front, and he sent for the hunchback and, summoning witnesses, ordered the vizier to draw the marriage contract between his daughter and the hunchback that very day, swearing that he would have the hunchback led in procession and that he would have him go in to his bride that very night. I have just now left the princes and their Mamluks waiting for the hunchback at the door of the bath, with lighted candles in their hands, in order to lead him in procession when he comes out. As for the vizier’s daughter, she has been dressed and decked out with jewelry by her attendants, while her father is placed under guard until the hunchback goes in to her. O demon, I have never seen anyone as beautiful or delightful as that girl.” The demon replied, “You are lying; this young man is more beautiful than she.” The she-demon said, “By the Lord of this world, none is worthy of her but this young man. It would be a pity to waste her on that hunchback.” The demon replied, “Let us take him up, carry him in his sleep to the girl, and leave them alone together.” She said, “Very well,” and the demon carried Badr al-Din Hasan al-Basri and flew with him up in the air, while the she-demon flew by his side. Then he came down at the gate of Cairo and, setting Badr al-Din on a bench, awakened him
.

  When Badr al-Din woke up and found himself in an unknown city, he started to make inquiries, but the demon jabbed him and, handing him a thick candle, said to him, “Go to the bath, mix with the Mamluks and the crowd of people, and walk with them until you come to the wedding hall. Then press ahead and enter the hall as if you are one of the candle bearers. Stand at the right side of the hunchbacked bridegroom, and whenever the bride’s attendants, the singing women, or the bride herself approaches you, take a handful of gold from your pocket and give it to the women. Don’t hesitate, and whenever you put your hand in your pocket and take it out, it will be full of gold. Take it and give it to those who approach you. Do not wonder, for this is not by your power or strength but by the power, the strength, and the will of God, so that His wise decree may be fulfilled upon His creatures.” Then Badr al-Din Hasan rose, lighted the candle, and walked until he came to the bath, where he found the hunchbacked bridegroom already on horseback. So he mixed with the people in the guise and manner already mentioned, wearing a double turban.

  But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “Sister, what an 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 SEVENTY-NINTH NIGHT

  Shahrazad said:

  It is related, O King, that Ja’far said to the caliph:

  Badr al-Din Hasan walked in the procession, and whenever the singing women stopped to sing and collect money from the people, he put his hand in his pocket and, finding it full of gold, took a handful and cast it in the singing women’s tambourines until they were full of dinars. The singing women and all the people were amazed at his beauty and grace, and he continued in this fashion until they reached the palace of the vizier (who was his uncle), where the doormen drove back the people, and forbade them to enter. But the singing women said, “By God, we will not enter unless this wonderful young man enters with us, for in all our life we have never seen anyone more beautiful or more generous, and we will not unveil the bride except in his presence, for he has given out a golden treasure in her honor.” So they brought him into the wedding hall and seated him on the dais to the right of the hunchback. The wives of the princes, viziers, chamberlains, and deputies, as well as every other woman present, each veiled to the eyes and holding a large lighted candle in her hand, lined up in two opposite rows, extending from the dais to the bride’s throne, which stood in front of the door from which she was to emerge. When the women saw Hasan al-Basri’s beauty and grace and looked on his face, which was as bright as the new moon and as dazzling as the full moon, and looked on his body, which swayed like a willow bough, they loved his charm and flirtatious looks, and when he showered them with money, they loved him even more. They crowded around him with their lighted candles and gazed on his beauty and envied him his charm, winking at each other, for every one of them desired him and wished that she was lying in his lap. Everyone said, “None deserves our bride but this young man. What a pity to waste her on the worthless hunchback! May God curse him who brought this about!” and they cursed the king. The hunchback, who was wearing a brocaded robe of honor and a double turban, with his neck buried between his shoulders, sat rolled up like a ball, looking more like a toy than a man. He was like him of whom the poet said: