One Thousand and One Nights
Page 514
When his father saw the strength of his determination to travel, he fell in with his wishes and equipped him with five thousand dinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two serving-men. So the youth set out, trusting in the blessing of God the Most High, and his father went out with him, to take leave of him, and returned [to Damascus]. As for Noureddin Ali, he gave not over travelling days and nights till he entered the city of Baghdad and laying up his loads in the caravanserai, made for the bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the dirt of the road and putting off his travelling clothes, donned a costly suit of Yemen stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he put in his sleeve a thousand mithcals of gold and sallied forth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he went. His gait confounded all those who beheld him, as he shamed the branches with his shape and belittled the rose with the redness of his cheeks and his black eyes of Babylonian witchcraft; indeed, thou wouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved from calamity; [for he was] even as saith of him one of his describers in the following verses:
Thy haters say and those who malice to thee bear A true word,
profiting its hearers everywhere;
“The glory’s not in those whom raiment rich makes fair, But those
who still adorn the raiment that they wear.”
So he went walking in the thoroughfares of the city and viewing its ordinance and its markets and thoroughfares and gazing on its folk. Presently, Abou Nuwas met him. (Now he was of those of whom it is said, “They love the fair,” and indeed there is said what is said concerning him. When he saw Noureddin Ali, he stared at him in amazement and exclaimed, “Say, I take refuge with the Lord of the Daybreak!” Then he accosted the young Damascene and saluting him, said to him, “Why do I see my lord alone and forlorn? Meseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not this country; so, with my lord’s permission, I will put myself at his service and acquaint him with the streets, for that I know this city.” Quoth Noureddin, “This will be of thy favour, O uncle.” Whereat Abou Nuwas rejoiced and fared on with him, showing him the markets and thoroughfares, till they came to the house of a slave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth, “From what city art thou?” “From Damascus,” answered Noureddin; and Abou Nuwas said, “By Allah, thou art from a blessed city, even as saith of it the poet in the following verses:
Damascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes; For the seeker there are black-eyed girls and boys of Paradise.”
Noureddin thanked him and they entered the slave-merchant’s house. When the people of the house saw Abou Nuwas, they rose to do him worship, for that which they knew of his station with the Commander of the Faithful. Moreover, the slave-dealer himself came up to them with two chairs, and they seated themselves thereon. Then the slave-merchant went into the house and returning with the slave-girl, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-cane, clad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black and white turban, the ends whereof fell down over her face, seated her on a chair of ebony; after which quoth he to those who were present, “I will discover to you a face as it were a full moon breaking forth from under a cloud.” And they said, “Do so.” So he unveiled the damsel’s face and behold, she was like the shining sun, with comely shape and day-bright face and slender [waist and heavy] hips; brief, she was endowed with elegance, the description whereof existeth not, [and was] even as saith of her the poet:
A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, They’d leave
their idols and her face for only Lord would know;
And if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly
the salt sea’s floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.
The dealer stood at her head and one of the merchants said, “I bid a thousand dinars for her.” Quoth another, “I bid eleven hundred dinars;” [and a third, “I bid twelve hundred”]. Then said a fourth merchant, “Be she mine for fourteen hundred dinars.” And the biddings stood still at that sum. Quoth her owner, “I will not sell her save with her consent. If she desire to be sold, I will sell her to whom she willeth.” And the slave-dealer said to him, “What is her name?” “Her name is Sitt el Milah,” answered the other; whereupon the dealer said to her, “By thy leave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for this price of fourteen hundred dinars.” Quoth she, “Come hither to me.” So he came up to her and when he drew near, she gave him a kick with her foot and cast him to the ground, saying, “I will not have that old man.” The slave-dealer arose, shaking the dust from his clothes and head, and said, “Who biddeth more? Who is desirous [of buying?]” Quoth one of the merchants, “I,” and the dealer said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, shall I sell thee to this merchant?” “Come hither to me,” answered she; but he said “Nay; speak and I will hearken to thee from my place, for I will not trust myself to thee,” And she said, “I will not have him.”
Then he looked at her and seeing her eyes fixed on the young Damascene, for that in very deed he had ravished her with his beauty and grace, went up to the latter and said to him, “O my lord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me.” Quoth Noureddin, “I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder slave-girl for sixteen hundred dinars?” And he pulled out the purse of gold. So the dealer returned, dancing and clapping his hands and saying, “So be it, so be it, or not [at all]!” Then he came to the damsel and said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, shall I sell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?” But she answered, “No,” of shamefastness before her master and the bystanders; whereupon the people of the bazaar and the slave-merchant departed, and Abou Nuwas and Ali Noureddin arose and went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her master’s house, full of love for the young Damascene.
When the night darkened on her, she called him to mind and her heart clave to him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise she abode days and nights, till she sickened and abstained from food. So her lord went in to her and said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, how findest thou thyself?” “O my lord,” answered she, “I am dead without recourse and I beseech thee to bring me my shroud, so I may look on it before my death.” Therewithal he went out from her, sore concerned for her, and betook himself to a friend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the damsel was cried [for sale]. Quoth his friend to him, “Why do I see thee troubled?” And he answered, “Sitt el Milah is at the point of death and these three days she hath neither eaten nor drunken. I questioned her to-day of her case and she said, ‘O my lord, buy me a shroud, so I may look on it before my death.’” Quoth the draper, “Methinks nought ails her but that she is enamoured of the young Damascene and I counsel thee to mention his name to her and avouch to her that he hath foregathered with thee on her account and is desirous of coming to thy house, so he may hear somewhat of her singing. If she say, ‘I reck not of him, for there is that to do with me which distracteth me from the Damascene and from other than he,’ know that she saith sooth concerning her sickness; but, if she say to thee other than this, acquaint me therewith.’”
So the man returned to his lodging and going in to his slave-girl, said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, I went out on thine occasion and there met me the young man of Damascus, and he saluted me and saluteth thee. Indeed, he seeketh to win thy favour and would fain be a guest in our dwelling, so thou mayst let him hear somewhat of thy singing.” When she heard speak of the young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul was like to depart her body, and answered, saying, “He knoweth my plight and is ware that these three days past I have eaten not nor drunken, and I beseech thee, O my lord, by the Great God, to accomplish the stranger his due and bring him to my lodging and make excuse to him for me.”
When her master heard this, his reason fled for joy and he went to his friend the draper and said to him, “Thou wast right in the matter of the damsel, for that she is enamoured of the young Damascene; so how shall I do?” Quoth the other, “Go to the bazaar and when thou seest him, salute him and say to him, ‘
Indeed, thy departure the other day, without accomplishing thine occasion, was grievous to me; so, if thou be still minded to buy the girl, I will abate thee an hundred dinars of that which thou badest for her, by way of hospitable entreatment of thee and making myself agreeable to thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land.’ If he say to thee, ‘I have no desire for her’ and hold off from thee, know that he will not buy; in which case, let me know, so I may contrive thee another device; and if he say to thee other than this, conceal not from me aught.
So the girl’s owner betook himself to the bazaar, where he found the youth seated at the upper end of the merchants’ place of session, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he were the moon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The young man returned his salutation and he said to him, “O my lord, be not thou vexed at the girl’s speech the other day, for her price shall be less than that [which thou badest], to the intent that I may propitiate thy favour. If thou desire her for nought, I will send her to thee, or if thou wouldst have me abate thee of her price, I will well, for I desire nought but what shall content thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land and it behoveth us to entreat thee hospitably and have consideration for thee.” “By Allah,” answered the youth, “I will not take her from thee but at an advance on that which I bade thee for her aforetime; so wilt thou now sell her to me for seventeen hundred dinars?” And the other answered,” O my lord, I sell her to thee, may God bless thee in her.”
So the young man went to his lodging and fetching a purse, returned to the girl’s owner and counted out to him the price aforesaid, whilst the draper was between them. Then said he, “Bring her forth;” but the other answered, “She cannot come forth at this present; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and night, and on the morrow thou shall take thy slave-girl and go in the protection of God.” The youth fell in with him of this and he carried him to his house, where, after a little, he let bring meat and wine, and they [ate and] drank. Then said Noureddin to the girl’s owner, “I beseech thee bring me the damsel, for that I bought her not but for the like of this time.” So he arose and [going in to the girl], said to her, “O Sitt el Milan, the young man hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he hath come to our dwelling and we have entertained him, and he would fain have thee be present with him.”
Therewithal the damsel rose briskly and putting off her clothes, washed and donned sumptuous apparel and perfumed herself and went out to him, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-cane, followed by a black slave girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the young man, she saluted him and sat down by his side. Then she took the lute from the slave-girl and tuning it, smote thereon in four-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first mode and sang the following verses:
Unto me the world’s whole gladness is thy nearness and thy sight;
All incumbent thy possession and thy love a law of right.
In my tears I have a witness; when I call thee to my mind, Down
my cheeks they run like torrents, and I cannot stay their
flight.
None, by Allah, ‘mongst all creatures, none I love save thee
alone! Yea, for I am grown thy bondman, by the troth betwixt
us plight.
Peace upon thee! Ah, how bitter were the severance from thee! Be
not this thy troth-plight’s ending nor the last of our
delight!
Therewithal the young man was moved to delight and exclaimed, “By Allah, thou sayest well, O Sitt el Milan! Let me hear more.” Then he handselled her with fifty dinars and they drank and the cups went round among them; and her seller said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, this is the season of leave-taking; so let us hear somewhat on the subject.” Accordingly she struck the lute and avouching that which was in her heart, sang the following verses:
I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, That from
the wasted body’s wounds distract the anguished soul.
Think not, my lords, that I forget: the case is still the same.
When such a fever fills the heart, what leach can make it
whole?
And if a creature in his tears could swim, as in a sea, I to do
this of all that breathe were surely first and sole.
O skinker of the wine of woe, turn from a love-sick maid, Who
drinks her tears still, night and morn, thy bitter-flavoured
bowl.
I had not left you, had I known that severance would prove My
death; but what is past is past, Fate stoops to no control.
As they were thus in the enjoyment of all that in most delicious of easance and delight, and indeed the wine was sweet to them and the talk pleasant, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So the master of the house went out, that he might see what was to do, and found ten men of the Khalif’s eunuchs at the door. When he saw this, he was amazed and said to them, “What is to do?” Quoth they, “The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and requireth of thee the slave-girl whom thou hast for sale and whose name is Sitt el Milah.” By Allah,” answered the other, “I have sold her.” And they said, “Swear by the head of the Commander of the Faithful that she is not in thy dwelling.” He made oath that he had sold her and that she was no longer at his disposal; but they paid no *need to his word and forcing their way into the house, found the damsel and the young Damascene in the sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon her, and the youth said, “This is my slave-girl, whom I have bought with my money.” But they hearkened not to his speech and taking her, carried her off to the Commander of the Faithful.
Therewithal Noureddin’s life was troubled; so he arose and donned his clothes, and his host said, “Whither away this night, O my lord?” Quoth Noureddin, “I mean to go to my lodging, and to-morrow I will betake myself to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful and demand my slave-girl.” “Sleep till the morning,” said the other, “and go not forth at the like of this hour.” But he answered, “Needs must I go;” and the host said to him, “[Go] in the safeguard of God.” So Noureddin went forth, and drunkenness had got the mastery of him, wherefore he threw himself down on [a bench before one of] the shops. Now the watch were at that hour making their round and they smelt the sweet scent [of essences] and wine that exhaled from him; so they made for it and found the youth lying on the bench, without sense or motion. They poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they carried him to the house of the Chief of the Police and he questioned him of his affair. “O my lord,” answered Noureddin, “I am a stranger in this town and have been with one of my friends. So I came forth from his house and drunkenness overcame me.”
The prefect bade carry him to his lodging; but one of those in attendance upon him, by name El Muradi, said to him, “What wilt thou do? This man is clad in rich clothes and on his finger is a ring of gold, the beazel whereof is a ruby of great price; so we will carry him away and slay him and take that which is upon him of raiment [and what not else] and bring it to thee; for that thou wilt not [often] see profit the like thereof, more by token that this fellow is a stranger and there is none to enquire concerning him.” Quoth the prefect, “This fellow is a thief and that which he saith is leasing.” And Noureddin said, “God forbid that I should be a thief!” But the prefect answered, “Thou liest.” So they stripped him of his clothes and taking the ring from his finger, beat him grievously, what while he cried out for succour, but none succoured him, and besought protection, but none protected him. Then said he to them, “O folk, ye are quit of that which ye have taken from me; but now restore me to my lodging.” But they answered, saying, “Leave this knavery, O cheat! Thine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow.” “By Allah, the One, the Eternal,” exclaimed he, “I will not sue any for them!” But they said, “We can nowise do this.” And the prefect bade them carry him to the Tigris and there slay him and cast him into the river.
So they dragged him away, what while he wept and spoke the w
ords which whoso saith shall nowise be confounded, to wit, “There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime!” When they came to the Tigris, one of them drew the sword upon him and El Muradi said to the swordbearer, “Smite off his head.” But one of them, Ahmed by name, said, “O folk, deal gently with this poor wretch and slay him not unjustly and wickedly, for I stand in fear of God the Most High, lest He burn me with his fire.” Quoth El Muradi, “A truce to this talk!” And Ahmed said, “If ye do with him aught, I will acquaint the Commander of the Faithful.” “How, then, shall we do with him?” asked they; and he answered, “Let us deposit him in prison and I will be answerable to you for his provision; so shall we be quit of his blood, for indeed he is wrongfully used.” So they took him up and casting him into the Prison of Blood,went away.
Meanwhile, they carried the damsel into the Commander of the Faithful and she pleased him; so he assigned her a lodging of the apartments of choice. She abode in the palace, eating not neither drinking and ceasing not from weeping night nor day, till, one night, the Khalif sent for her to his sitting-chamber and said to her, “O Sitt el Milah, be of good heart and cheerful eye, for I will make thy rank higher than [any of] the concubines and thou shall see that which shall rejoice thee.” She kissed the earth and wept; whereupon the Khalif called for her lute and bade her sing. So she improvised and sang the following verses, in accordance with that which was in her heart:
Say, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul’s pure desire,
Moan’st thou as moan the doves and is thy heart for doubt on