“Yes, it is I, my Qadi,” was the surprised reply.
“Well, stop being nosy, as you always are! Just go and bring a carpenter along with you at once, since we are all hungry and thirsty.”
“I’ll go and fetch Hasan, the king of carpenters,” said Zein al-Deen.
“But I am Hasan the carpenter and I am trapped here,” came a voice from inside the cupboard. “Go and fetch my brother Ali.”
“But how could any one lock in a carpenter?” the man asked.
“Stop chattering, will you! I command you, man, find us a carpenter immediately,” shouted the King.
Everyone recognised the King’s voice, and looked at each other in great astonishment. They stood about in silence, pinching their noses at the great stench, until Ali, the carpenter’s brother, appeared.
He opened the Qadi’s compartment first. And when he came out with his yellow gown and special hood, everyone burst into great and uproarious laughter, which continued and grew as each member of the court was released. And even the captives laughed and teased each other as they came out one by one, especially when the King couldn’t find his robe and turban, and had to leave the woman’s house as she had dressed him, in his cheap, purple robe.
Budur and Qamar al-Zaman
bu Nuwas took to the floor once again, saying, “We are men and women, and we each blame each other. But can we live apart? I could very easily live without the opposite sex, but most of humankind cannot. Let us find out what happens when we are deliberately denied each other’s company.”
Once upon a time there was a King named Shahraman, who, after enormous effort and countless prayers and supplication to God, was blessed with a baby boy. The King called his child Qamar al-Zaman, meaning “moon of the age,” because as his wife was giving birth, he watched the full moon and made a wish that God would grant him a son, so that one day he might abdicate in favour of him.
When Qamar al-Zaman blossomed and grew to adulthood, the King wished for him to marry and provide him with grandchildren, but Qamar al-Zaman denounced the idea of marriage.
“Be assured, father, that I shall never wed, nor be close to a girl, so long as I live. Hearing tales of their guile and treachery has put me off for life. Let us not forget the poet who said, ‘If you aim to please God and seek his love, you’d better stop pleasing Eve, for whenever she enters the arena of love she throws one of her poisonous arrows,’ ” Qamar al-Zaman told his father.
The King fell into a deep depression, but in his wisdom he left his son alone, showering him instead with love and respect. After another whole year had passed, he raised the subject once more, hoping that his son might have matured.
“Son, will you do what I ask of you?”
Qamar al-Zaman knelt on the floor before the King respectfully, saying, “I was born into this life to obey you, father.”
Feeling hopeful, the King said, “I want you to marry while I am still on this Earth, so that I can abdicate and appoint you King.”
Qamar al-Zaman answered, “Forgive me, father, for this request is the only one I cannot obey. I remain determined not to marry, for the reasons I’ve outlined to you.”
The King was saddened and disappointed, but because he adored his son, he thought he might wait another year and ask again. But the prince’s answer remained the same. In the third year, the King decided to ask his son to marry before the assembled court and his Vizier, in the hope that his son might feel embarrassed and unable to disobey him in the presence of state officials.
So the King summoned his son and said, “I would like to give you an order which you must obey. I want you to marry a royal princess before I die.”
Qamar al-Zaman bowed his head for a moment, lifted it, and spoke with all the rebelliousness of juvenile folly: “I’m afraid that you have become forgetful, old man. Haven’t you urged me twice before to marry, and haven’t I declined? Now, for the third time, I refuse, even if I must die for my decision, and that’s final.”
Humiliated, the King shouted at his son. “You bastard, how dare you speak to me like that in public!”
He turned to his soldiers. “Take him and lock him up in the deserted tower and leave him there until he learns some manners.”
Qamar al-Zaman was seized and imprisoned in the tower. When the guard locked the door, the young man fumed, and yelled, “I curse marriage and all of treacherous womankind until Doomsday. Women are nothing but hovering vultures and I know for sure that if I marry, my wife will lead me astray from the path to prosperity and perfection of virtues.”
Later, when the guard lit many candles and offered him some food, the young prince could only manage two mouthfuls. Then he sat and read some surahs from the Qur’an before he slept, oblivious to what Fate had in store for him.
It happened that a jinniya named Maimuna, who was the daughter of a very famous King of Jinnis named Dimiryat, lived in the well of the deserted tower. She left the well each night to fly in the sky and watch the angels as they prayed and worshipped God. That night, she emerged from her well, and saw, for the first time in her life of more than two hundred years, a light coming from the tower. Curious, she flew up to the roof and found her way in through a hole in the wall. The guard was sleeping by the door, so she flew through the keyhole and saw a figure in bed, asleep, lit by a candle above his head and a lantern at his feet.
“Blessed is God, the greatest creator,” she said as she drew closer and saw in the flickering candlelight the fine beauty of this man, whose lips were like red grapes ready to be squeezed into wine.
Who was he? she wondered. He was locked up like a prisoner, under guard, and yet how many prisoners slept upon a bed of ostrich feathers? Quickly, she entered the dreams of the guard, asking him questions about the sleeping youth, and learned the whole story of Qamar al-Zaman. Angry at the old King’s treatment of such a divine creature and feeling great pity for him, she knelt down and kissed him between the eyes and decided that she must visit him each night. She would fly around the tower, keeping watch to ensure that no evil jinni would harm him.
Just then, she heard the beating of wings in the air, and raced towards the sound in great fury, since she owned this part of the sky, and no one else might fly here without her permission. She circled, manoeuvring in the air until she saw the trespasser, a jinni called Dahnash. She swooped down upon him like an eagle, digging her nails into his stomach, and when he realised he was in the grip of Maimuna herself, he pleaded for forgiveness. She demanded that he give his reason for trespassing.
“Love has blinded me, my honourable lady. I have just returned from the islands of China, where I visited a princess each evening, and her dazzling beauty has left me disorientated.”
“China?” said Maimuna, incredulously. “What were you doing over there, you liar? Swear by the talisman engraved upon King Solomon’s ring that you’re telling the truth, because if I discover otherwise, I am going to skin you alive and break your bones.”
“I swear by King Solomon and by your father, King Dimiryat, that I fly each night to China in order to catch sight of a princess called Budur, daughter of King Ghayyur the Jealous. She is a rare beauty: her black hair is as the darkest night, her nose as fine as a sword blade, her cheeks like red anemones, her tongue like wine and yet it can speak six languages. Her arms are like two streams, and her breasts two ostrich eggs, her waist as tiny as the neck of a gazelle and her buttocks like sand dunes which get in the way when she stands, and keep her awake when she wishes to sleep. Her thighs are two columns of pearls and her feet …”
“And you’re going to tell me next that this beauty is in love with you?” Maimuna interrupted him.
“In love with me? She has refused all the suitors her father proposed for her, princes and sons of kings and emperors. She turned down each of them, telling her father that she’s not interested in marriage. But each time she refuses a suitor, her fame and notoriety grow, and more and more admirers come forward. The last one was a very special pr
ince, the son of a King named the King of Kings, and he would not take no for an answer. Yet when her father tried to change her mind, by enumerating his good qualities, Princess Budur told him, ‘But I wish to be my own mistress, for I hold authority and power over the people. I know that as soon as I marry, my husband will rule over me.’ Her father tried repeatedly to get her to see sense until she threatened to plunge her sword into her stomach and push until it came out of her back. When her father heard this threat, he was mortified, and overwhelmed with anxiety. At the same time, he didn’t know what to say to the son of the King of Kings, so he locked his daughter away in seclusion.”
Dahnash finished his story, repeating that his extreme distress was his excuse for trespassing.
“Are you trying to tell me this is a legitimate excuse for flying through my territory?” Maimuna snapped.
“If you were to see her, my lady, you would forgive me for sure!”
“You can be sure that I will not, because it would seem that this princess of yours is little more than a urinal, when I would expect to hear a description of a sublime creature. And yet there’s a strange coincidence here, for when I caught you red-handed, I was roaming around trying to protect a prince whose story is identical to that of your princess. My youth has been imprisoned by his father in the deserted tower because he refused to marry. And he is as beautiful as that star shining in the sky over there.”
“Surely you can use more imagination than to describe someone as a star,” said Dahnash.
Maimuna sighed. “My prince’s skin is as soft as a baby’s; his eyebrows are like two swords and his eyes are darker than a gazelle. His mouth is sweet as honey and his body as strong as the branch of a banyan tree. If you saw him you would drool over him like a dog.”
“With respect to you, Maimuna, I could never compare my princess to your prince because no one in the world could ever compare.”
“What a liar; what a despicable jinni you are,” Maimuna screamed. “There’s no one like my prince, the length or width of the universe, and so you are insane to even try to compare your princess to my prince.”
Dahnash sensed that he had crossed a line with Maimuna.
“Let’s fly together and visit mine, then I’ll go to visit yours.”
“You foulest creature! If mine is more beautiful than yours, I win, and if yours is lovelier than mine, you win. But be prepared to be the loser.” So saying, Maimuna hit Dahnash so hard that he screamed out in pain.
“Take me at once to your princess, so we can compare them or I promise I’ll burn you in my fire and throw you in the desert.”
Dahnash trembled. “I’ll go at once.”
“And, I’ll come with you,” Maimuna said, “because I don’t trust you for a moment.”
They flew and flew together until they reached a palace perched on top of a mountain. They entered Princess Budur’s room, but Maimuna could only make out the roundness of the princess’s face, and her golden nightdress, which shimmered in the dark. Dahnash was overcome with emotion. He took her in his arms, shaking so hard that he nearly lost balance.
“How I wish you would sleep between my eyelids for ever, my beauty,” he whispered.
“I understand why you wish the princess could sleep between your eyelids! If she saw you, she would be so frightened she’d try to break free, even in midair.”
Then she nudged him out of the way and grabbed the princess around her waist, while Dahnash carried her by the legs, and off they flew, Princess Budur’s hair flying out behind her like a dark shooting star.
They reached Qamar al-Zaman’s room in the tower and laid Princess Budur down next to him, and the jinniya and the jinni gasped in amazement, for the two bore a striking resemblance to one another.
“Didn’t I tell you my princess is more beautiful?” Dahnash said.
But Maimuna knelt down and kissed Qamar al-Zaman between the eyes, and said to Dahnash, “I’m going to forgive you, for it seems that you are shortsighted and your heart has shrunk. And I’ll forgive you if the beauty of your princess inspires you with a description better than my description of my prince, which is this: the mole on his cheek is the place where musk is created.”
“Listen to this: one glance from her would be my food for ever,” Dahnash replied as he kissed Princess Budur’s hand.
“Food? You describe her as food, you greedy, starved jinni? But let us not waste more time with words. We need to decide who is more beautiful.”
“I will not change my mind, my princess is more beautiful,” Dahnash said.
“No, my prince is more beautiful,” was Maimuna’s reply.
“Mine is prettiness itself and I will never deviate from the truth, even if you knock the breath out of me. Since I have great respect for you, I am obliged to be totally honest.”
“We should wake each of them in turn. Whoever burns with love for the other must be less beautiful,” Maimuna suggested.
“I shall become a flea and bite the prince and wake him, and send the princess into a deep sleep,” Dahnash said and he sank his teeth into the prince’s neck.
Qamar al-Zaman awoke and scratched his neck where Dahnash had bitten him. When he saw Budur fast asleep next to him, he was taken by surprise but couldn’t help pulling back the covers. He lifted up her shirt, pulled down her drawers and gasped.
“What a beauty!” he breathed heavily and went to wake her up.
As he lowered his head to kiss her, Dahnash whispered to Maimuna, “Though I’m thrilled that he burns for my princess, your youth is a thug with no scruples. If you will allow it, I shall stop him from kissing her.”
But Maimuna hushed the jinni, furious that she was going to lose the bet. Then Qamar al-Zaman changed his mind, and turned his head away from Budur. Maimuna burned with pride as Qamar al-Zaman pulled down Budur’s shirt, pulled up her drawers and shook her gently.
“Wake up, my darling. Stop playing games with me. I know full well that my father, the King, had you climb into my bed and sleep, so I would fall in love and worship you, and wed you and have children. I have resisted the idea of marriage for three years, so let us not dally: get up, my sweet and precious beauty. Let us marry as soon as day breaks, if I can bear to wait.” He went again to kiss her, but then withdrew, saying to himself, “Be patient, Qamar al-Zaman. God forgive me for what I was intending to do.”
He stroked the girl’s long, dark hair. “Did my father ask you to pretend to sleep, so you could report to him what I had done to you? I bet he’s testing me! Perhaps he is hiding somewhere and observing my every move, so that he might delight in winning the battle, after I insulted him before his men and council. Well, now I am head over heels in love with you.”
He touched her face with his hand, and when she still didn’t open her eyes, he said, “I love your strength of will as much as I love your beauty.”
He brought her hand to his cheek and saw a ring on her finger, which he took off and examined carefully.
“A seal ring? Who are you, my princess? I shall take it as a keepsake to remember you by, a token of our love.”
He put the ring on his little finger and closed his eyes, murmuring, “Better to sleep, then I shall not waiver in the face of temptation and desire.”
Maimuna clapped her hands joyfully.
“Did you see how the great honour of my prince goes hand in hand with his beauty?”
“Yes, I saw,” Dahnash replied.
“Now it is my turn to become a flea and wake your princess.”
Maimuna flew into Budur’s clothes and bit her on her thigh and navel. The girl opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Seeing the young man sleeping next to her, breathing heavily, she gasped.
“Who are you, the most gracious of God’s creations? Who brought you to me? Houris would hesitate to think their eyes so splendid and extraordinary if they saw how white the whites of your eyes, how black their darkness. I can’t believe how my heart is throbbing with love for you, when I have shied away from men an
d marriage! If the prince of the King of Kings who sought my hand again and again was you, I would have agreed at once!”
Qamar al-Zaman remained asleep. Budur shook him gently, saying, “Open your eyes, my master and light of my eyes, for you might like what you see.”
But Maimuna had put him in a deep slumber and Budur’s efforts were in vain. “Wake up and embrace the narcissus, and play with me until the break of day, till midday and evening. Get up, my knight, taste my fruit which ripened, ready, as soon as I set eyes on you,” she pleaded.
But Qamar al-Zaman remained motionless. “I can’t believe that you’re actually asleep,” Budur said. “Could it be that your charm and beauty has filled you with enormous pride and vanity? Or are you carrying out the wishes of my father, playing hard to get in order to teach me to listen to him and obey him? But aren’t you happy that I resisted the charms of others and waited for you? Now here I am, please take me into your arms!”
When he still didn’t stir, Budur embraced him, spotted her ring and cheered, planting a loud kiss on every finger.
“I’m in ecstasy, or perhaps I’m not,” she said, “to realise that you came to me while I was fast asleep. Worried that I would refuse you, you decided not to wake me, but asked for my hand silently. Be assured, I accept you as my husband.” She kissed him on the lips, took his own ring and put it on her finger.
Then she lifted the covers and ran her hand over his chest, saying, “Your chest is my home now, and your chest hair the trees which shade me.” Then she moved her hand to his waist, his upper thighs and when she reached his you-know-what …
Abu Nuwas broke off from the story and lowered his voice as if revealing a secret. “As some of you know, a woman’s lust is stronger than that of a man. Poor souls! When they become horny they’ll seek to satisfy themselves in any way, with anybody, with anything.”
Abu Nuwas giggled. “But let me take you back to lusty Budur,” he said.
When her hand reached his you-know-what, Budur began to tremble. She felt ashamed and stopped touching Qamar al-Zaman, then she too fell asleep, holding him in her arms.
One Thousand and One Nights Page 22
