“I still have yet more to offer you,” he replied. “If my services so far and my comely appearance have pleased you, then how will it be if you see me in a situation where I can show you all another aspect of my skill? Then you will be even more delighted.” “Go ahead!” we said.
With that he went over and took a bow, strung it, took an arrow, and shot it high into the air, then followed it with another. “Now,” he said, “I’ll show you something else.” He came over and took my quiver, then mounted my horse. He now fired an arrow at one of our number and pierced him through the chest, and followed it with another that emerged from a second traveler’s back. “Curse you!” I said, “what are you doing?” “Shut up, you dolt!” he replied. “Now everyone tie his companion’s hands, or else I’ll make him swallow his own spittle.”
We had no idea what do to next; our horses were tethered, the saddles were on the ground, and our weapons were out of range. What is more, he was mounted on horseback, while we were on foot, and he was using the bow to pierce people in the back and chest. Once we saw the serious situation we were in, we took the ropes and tied one another up. I was the last one, and there was no one left to tie my hands. “Take your clothes off,” he said, and so I did so. He dismounted and went around slapping everyone one after another. He, too, took off his clothes and then came over to me. I happened to be wearing a new pair of boots. “Take them off, you bastard!” he said. “These boots were still fresh when I put them on,” I replied, “so I can’t get them off.” “I’ll do it,” he said and came right up to me. At that moment I grabbed a knife that I had kept hidden in my boot; while he was busy trying to get the boot off, I plunged it so hard into his chest that it came out of his back. One gasp was the only sound he made before he fell to the ground dead.
I now went over to my friends, untied their hands, and then distributed the property of the two dead men among us all. We went over to our friend but found that he, too, had died. Thus he went to his grave and we set off once again. We reached Homs five days later. When we arrived at its market square, we spotted a man with a bag and walking stick accompanied by a son and daughter. He kept saying,
God bless the man who fills my bag with his generous gifts,
God bless anyone who takes pity on Saʿid and Fatimah.
He will be a servant for you, as will she—no doubt.
ʿIsa ibn Hisham said: “This is that man from Alexandria,” I said, “the one I’ve heard and asked about. It’s the very man in person.” I went over and spoke to him: “Say what you want!” “A dirham,” he replied.
A dirham you will have multiplied by its like,
So long as my life breath supports me.
Make then your calculation and request
So I can hand over what is demanded.
“Here is one dirham,” I told him, “multiplied by two, by three, by four, and by five,” till I reached twenty. “Now how much do you have?” I asked. “Twenty loaves,” was his reply, so I ordered that he be given that amount. “There can be no success if God’s help is withheld,” I said, “and no strategy can work in the face of deprivation.”
3. THE BAGHDADIYYA ASSEMBLY
ʿIsa ibn Hisham told us the following tale:
While in Baghdad, I had a craving for some dates but had no money in hand. I went out looking for somewhere to buy some, till I reached Karkh. There I encountered a country yokel doggedly pulling his donkey behind him, with his money belt strapped to his waist. Aha, I told myself, we have found a victim! “God preserve you, Abu Zayd!” I yelled. “Where have you come from, where are you staying, and when did you get here? Let’s go to my house.” “My name is not Abu Zayd,” the yokel replied, “it’s Abu ʿUbayd.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “God curse the devil and banish forgetfulness! Being apart for so long has made me forget your name. How’s your father, still young as I remember him, or now grown old?” “The spring grasses have long since grown on his grave,” the man replied, “and I hope that God will conduct him to His paradise.”
“Indeed we belong to God,” I said, “and to Him do we return. To God the Almighty, the Great, belongs all power and authority!” With an impetuous gesture I now grabbed hold of my shirt, fully intending to rend it apart. The yokel grasped me by the waist. “Don’t tear your shirt, I beg you,” he said. “Well then,” I said, “come to my home and we’ll have some food. Or rather, let’s go to the market and buy some meat; it’s closer, and the food is better.”
The mention of delicious mouthfuls of food aroused his appetite and diverted his attention. He was keen to go, not realizing that he had fallen into the trap. We reached the stall of a meat seller whose meat oozed with juice and pastry dripped with gravy.
“Give Abu Zayd a portion of this meat,” I said, “then weigh out a piece of halvah and a selection of these other dishes. Make a side order of bread and sprinkle some summaq water over it. Then Abu Zayd will be able to eat with relish.”
With that the meat seller took his cleaver, chose the very best cut from his oven, and proceeded to pound and tenderize it. Abu Zayd took a seat, and so did I; his hopes were high, and so were mine. Eventually we finished.
“Now,” I said to the halvah seller, “weigh out a couple of pounds of that walnut cake for Abu Zayd; it slips down the gullet and flows through the veins. Make sure it was made last night and is fresh today; thin-crusted, well filled, covered in pearly oil, and gleaming bright. It should melt like unchewed gum. Then Abu Zayd will be able to eat with relish.”
The halvah seller cut up some cake. Abu Zayd sat down, and so did I; he bared his arms, and I did likewise. Eventually we had eaten our fill.
“Now, Abu Zayd,” I said, “we really need some ice-cooled water to quench the burning from such a hot meal. Sit here, Abu Zayd, while I bring us a water seller.”
With that I left and took a seat where I could watch him without his knowing. I wanted to see what he would do. When I took a long time coming back, he got up and went over to his donkey. The meat seller grabbed him by the belt. “So where’s the cost of that meal?” he asked.
“But I was a guest!” Abu Zayd replied.
The meat seller cuffed him, then gave him a slap. “Come on, you rogue” he said, “pay up fifteen dirhams!”
The yokel started weeping and untied his purse with his teeth. “How many times did I tell that stupid idiot that my name was Abu ʿUbayd? But he kept saying Abu Zayd.”
Whereupon I recited the following lines:
To earn a living use all kinds of tricks
And do not be satisfied with any situation.
Undertake any enormity,
For mankind is weak, and that’s the way it is!
4. THE MAWSILIYYA ASSEMBLY
ʿIsa ibn Hisham told us the following tale:
On our way home from Mawsil, our caravan was attacked; riding beasts and baggage were all taken. My very last breath took me to some villages in the region, accompanied by that Alexandrian named Abu ʾl-Fath. “What tricks do we have up our sleeves?” I asked, to which he replied, “God is sufficient.”
We found ourselves drawn to a house whose owner had just died; the mourning women had just started their keening. It was full of people whose hearts had just been rent by shock and their pockets torn by grief; women were loosing their hair, beating their breasts, slashing their necklaces, and slapping their cheeks. “Ha!” said Abu ʾl-Fath, “we’ll find a palm tree in this terrain, a delicious lamb within this flock.” He went inside the house to look at the dead man. By this time, the man’s chin had been bound for carrying, and water was on the boil to wash him. The bier was ready to take him away, the shroud had been stitched to wrap his body, and the grave dug to bury him. When Abu ʾl-Fath set eyes on him, he grabbed his neck and felt his pulse. “You people!” he said, “don’t bury him, by God. He’s still alive. He’s had a seizure and is unconscious. I’ll return him to you with eyes open in two days.”
“How can you say that?” they ask
ed him. “When a man dies,” he replied, “his anus2 goes cold. I’ve felt this man and discovered that he’s still living.” They put their hands in his anus. “Things are exactly as he has described,” they said, “so do whatever he demands.”
Abu ʾl-Fath went over to the dead man and took off his clothes. He wrapped his head in a turban, hung amulets on him, and smeared him with oil. Then he had the house cleared. “Let him be,” he told them. “Don’t restrain him in any way. If you hear him groan, don’t respond.”
With that he left. By now news had spread far and wide that the dead man had been resurrected. We were inundated with charity from every household; every neighbor gave us gifts, so much so that our saddle packs were bulging with silver and gold and our bags with cheese and dates. We kept looking for an opportunity to get away, but none arose. The appointed time arrived when the false promise had to be fulfilled.
“Have you heard any sound from the sick man,” Abu ʾl-Fath asked, “or noticed any sign of life?” “No,” they replied. “If he hasn’t made any sounds since I left,” he went on, “then it’s not the right time yet. Leave him be till tomorrow. If you hear any sound out of him, you’ll know for sure that he’s not dead. In that case, inform me at once so that I can decide on the best treatment and put his sickly constitution to rights.” “Don’t delay things beyond tomorrow,” they said. “No, I won’t,” Abu ʾl-Fath replied.
As morning’s visage smiled and daylight’s wings spread across the horizon, men arrived in crowds and women, too, in droves. “We want you to cure the dead man now,” they said, “and cut out the small talk.” “Let’s go to him,” said Abu ʾl-Fath. He removed the amulets from the man’s hand and unwrapped the turban from his head. “Lay him on his face,” he told them, and they did so. “Now stand him up on his feet,” and that was done, too. “Now let go of his hands,” he ordered, whereupon the body collapsed in a heap. “He’s dead,” said Abu ʾl-Fath with a sigh, “so how am I supposed to make him alive?” With that he was set upon, slapped and punched, to such an extent that, whenever one hand was lifted, another immediately took its place. They occupied themselves preparing the dead man for burial, while we made good our escape.
We eventually reached a village on the edge of a valley that was being inundated by a flood of water. The inhabitants were in a panic, unable to sleep at night for fear of the flood. “You people,” said Abu ʾl-Fath, “I’ll solve this water problem for you and rid the village of the entire matter. Just do what I say, and do nothing without consulting me first.” “What is your command?” they asked. “If you sacrifice a yellow heifer in the stream, bring me a virgin girl, and pray two rukʿa behind me, God will divert this flood into the desert. If He does not do so, then my very blood may be lawfully shed.” “We will do all you suggest,” they replied.
So they sacrificed the heifer, married him to the virgin girl, and prepared to pray the two rukʿa. “You people,” said Abu ʾl-Fath, “be very careful that there are no mistakes in the way you stand, any slips during the kneeling, any lapses in the prostration, or any errors during the sitting. If that happens, our hopes will be dashed and the whole initiative will have been in vain. Gird yourselves for these two rukʿa, for they will be long.
With that he started the first rukʿa. He stood there as rigid as a palm tree till their backs started aching, then he did the prostration, which lasted so long that they thought he had fallen asleep. However, no one dared raise their head until he had pronounced the “God is great” as a sign to sit up again. He now bent over again for the second prostration and gave me the nod. With that, we headed for the valley and left them all there bent over in prostration. We have no idea what fate did with them.
And with that Abu ʾl-Fath recited the following poem:
May God never put the likes of me far from you;
Where, O where are the likes of me?
How stupid people are, by God!
I have fleeced them with such ease.
From them I have received charity,
But all I have given in exchange is deceit and fraud.
5. THE HULWANIYYA ASSEMBLY
ʿIsa ibn Hisham told us the following tale:
Returning with other pilgrims from Mecca, I stopped in the town of Hul-wan. “My hair has grown long,” I told my servant, “and my body is somewhat dirty. Find us a bathhouse and a barber we can employ. Make sure the bathhouse is spacious and in a decent neighborhood; the air should smell sweet and the water should be just warm enough. I want a barber who is deft with his hands and wields a sharp razor; he should have clean clothes and not prattle a lot.”
With that my servant went out and only came back after a good while. “I’ve chosen a barber in accordance with your demands,” he said. With that we made our way to the bathhouse. Once we arrived, I noticed it was not particularly grand. Even so, I went in and was trailed by a man who proceeded to grab a handful of mud, rub it on my forehead, and spread it over my head. With that he left. Another man now entered. He started giving me a rubbing that rattled my very bones, kneading the mud into my body enough to crush my joints, and all the while whistling a hail of spittle. He then set about washing my head and went over to pour some water. At this point, the first man came back and gave the second such a punch that it rattled his teeth. “You blackguard!” he yelled, “what are you doing with that head. It’s mine.” With that the second man delivered a blow that shattered the first’s dignity. “To the contrary,” he said, “this head is my property and my right, and what’s more I have it in my control.”
The two of them kept slugging it out till they were exhausted. With their remaining energy, they took each other to arbitration. Both of them went to talk to the owner of the bathhouse. “I am the owner of this head,” said the first, “because I was the first to put mud on his forehead and rub his head with it.” “That’s not right,” said the second. “I’m the rightful owner because I am the one who gave him a rubbing and kneaded his joints.” The owner now spoke. “Bring me the head’s owner,” he said, “so I can ask him for myself to whom his head belongs.” So they both came back to where I was. “We are in need of your testimony,” they both said, “so fulfill your obligation.” With that I had to get up and follow them willy-nilly. “My good man,” said the bathhouse owner, “speak nothing but the truth and testify only to what is right. Tell me, to which of these men does this head of yours belong?” “God forgive you, sir,” I replied, “this is my head, and it’s been with me throughout my journey. It has done the circumambulation of the Kaʿbah with me, and I have no doubt at all that it belongs to me.”
“Shut up, you babbler!” the man replied. He then turned to one of the two contestants. “Look,” he asked, “how much longer is this stupid row going to continue over this head? Just forget about it and let it go to Hell. Just imagine that it had never even existed and that we never encountered this ass.”
ʿIsa ibn Hisham said: So I left that place feeling slighted, donned my clothes in a hurry, and quickly made good my escape. I cursed my servant roundly and pummeled him like a lump of putty. To another servant I said: “Go and find me a barber who can relieve me of this load of hair.” He returned with a man of pleasing build and decent garb, almost like a doll in appearance. His demeanor was enough to make me relax. Once inside he said: “Greetings to you! Where are you from?” “From Qum,” I replied. “May God grant you long life!” he replied. “So you hail from the land of blessings and ease, the haven of the Sunnis and other Muslim sects. In the month of Ramadan I attended the mosque there, when the lamps were lit and the special Ramadan prayers performed. But all of a sudden the Nile overflowed its banks and snuffed out the lights. But God made me a shoe that I had put on when it was moist, but the embroidery on it did not reach as far as the sleeve. Then the boy returned to his mother after I had prayed the evening prayer when the sun’s shadow was equal. But tell me, how was your pilgrimage? Did you manage to complete all its rituals as required? And they yelled: ‘How amazing, ama
zing!’ I glanced at the minaret. How trivial a matter is war—to the spectators! I found the soup just as it was and realized that the entire matter was in accordance with God’s decree. How long will this aggravation last, today and tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday. I will not prolong things any further. What is all this verbiage about? But I would like you to know that al-Mubarrad is as sharp as a razor on matters of grammar. Don’t bother yourself with the language of the plebs. Were potential to precede action, I would have shaved your head by now. Do you think we should get started?”
ʿIsa ibn Hisham said: His would-be eloquence had me baffled with so much nonsense. I began to worry that he might keep this session going. “Let’s wait till tomorrow, God willing” I said. I asked the people around about this man. “He’s from Alexandria,” they replied. “The water here doesn’t agree with him so he has gone crazy. He spends the whole day babbling as you can see for yourself. Even so there is a good deal of virtue in him.” “I have heard about him,” I replied, “and I am sorry to hear of his madness.” With that I recited as follows:
I hereby give God a solemn binding pledge
I shall not shave my head ever again even though I suffer hardship.
Abu Muhammad al-Qasim al-Hariri (446 / 1054–515 / 1122)
THE DAMASCENE ASSEMBLY
Al-Harith ibn Hammam narrated to us as follows:
I was traveling from Iraq to Al-Ghuta, being the possessor of princely stallions and envied resources. I found myself tempted by inactivity and cosseted by plenty. Once I arrived after much hardship with my travel-weary camel, I found it to be just as it had been described, containing things to refresh the heart and delight the eye. I therefore offered thanks to the hand of distance and entered headlong into the realm of pleasure, unlocking the seals of desire and plucking the ripe fruits of delight. Then came the time when a caravan made preparations to depart for Iraq; meanwhile I had recovered from my exploits. I felt a strong nostalgia for my homeland, a pull toward my own fold. With that I packed up my tents for departure and saddled my beast for the return journey. However, when my companions were ready to leave and everyone was agreed, we were still wary of setting out without a guard to accompany us. So we searched for someone among every tribe and used every device possible to trace such a person, but we failed to find anyone among the clans, so much so that we came to doubt whether such a person even existed. Our failure to find anybody diminished the caravan’s eagerness to leave, and everyone gathered by the Jayran Gate to discuss the situation. There, people kept wavering between leaving and staying, tying themselves up in knots and then untying them again, till they ran out of things to say and fell into despair.
Classical Arabic Stories Page 39
