The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 2
Page 20
The next morning the gatekeepers took the prince to their king, explaining that he had arrived at the city the previous day too late to be presented to him. The king asked him from where he had come, his name and profession and the reason for his coming to the city, to which the prince replied: ‘My name is a Persian one, Harja; my native land is Persia; and I am a man of learning, particularly in the field of medicine. I can cure the sick and the mad, and for this reason I travel through regions and cities in order to add to my knowledge, and when I see a sick person I treat him, as this is my profession.’ The king was delighted to hear this and said: ‘Excellent doctor, you have come to us just when you are needed.’ He then went on to tell the prince about the girl, promising that if through his treatment he could cure her madness, he could have anything that he asked for. When he heard this, the prince said: ‘May God ennoble you, describe the symptoms of her madness that you have seen and tell me how many days ago it was that this affected her and also how you got hold of her, together with the horse and the sorcerer.’
The king told him the whole story from beginning to end, adding that the sorcerer was in prison, and when the prince then asked him about the horse, the king said that it was in one of the palace apartments. The prince thought to himself that the prudent thing to do would be to start by inspecting the horse, for if it turned out to be sound and uninjured, then he would have all that he wanted, whereas if it no longer worked he would have to think of some other way of saving himself. He turned to the king and said: ‘Your majesty, I must look at this horse you mentioned to see whether I can find anything in it that might help me cure the girl.’ The king willingly gave him permission and, getting up, he took him by the hand and led him to the horse. The prince walked around inspecting it, and after checking its condition, he was delighted to discover that it was intact and undamaged. He then told the king that he would like to examine the girl, adding: ‘If Almighty God wills it, I hope that I may be able to cure her by means of this horse,’ and advising him to look after it carefully. The king took him to the room where the princess was, and when he went in he found her stamping and falling on the ground, as she had kept on doing, not because she was mad but to keep anyone from approaching her.
When the prince saw her in this state he said: ‘O temptation of all mankind, all is well with you,’ and he went on speaking to her soothingly and gently before revealing himself to her. When she recognized him, she let out a great cry before fainting from joy, while the king thought that it was through fear of him that she had collapsed. The prince then put his mouth to her ear and said: ‘Temptation of all mankind, be careful not to shed my blood and your own. Wait patiently and show strength of mind, for we need patience here as well as good and subtle planning if we are to escape from this tyrant. My scheme is to go to him and tell him that what you are suffering from is something caused by an evil spirit. I shall guarantee to cure you on condition that he remove your fetters, after which the spirit will leave you. When he then comes to see you, talk to him sweetly so that he may think that I have cured you, and we can then achieve all that we want.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ she replied, after which he went joyfully to the king and said: ‘Fortunate king, through your auspicious help I discovered what the girl’s disease was and how to treat it, as a result of which I have cured her for you. Come and visit her now, but talk to her gently and treat her with kindness, promising her whatever will please her, as all that you want from her is yours.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and seventieth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the prince pretended to be a doctor and went to the princess to reveal himself and to tell her his plan. When she had agreed to this, he left her and went to tell the king: ‘Come and visit her now, but talk to her gently and treat her with kindness, promising her whatever will please her, as all that you want from her is yours.’
The king got up and went in to visit the princess, who, on seeing him, rose, kissed the ground in front of him and welcomed him. He was delighted by this and gave orders for slave girls and eunuchs to come to attend on her, take her to the baths and provide her with jewellery and robes.
They came in to greet her and she returned their greeting gracefully and eloquently. Then they dressed her in royal robes, put a jewelled necklace round her neck and took her off to the baths, where they waited on her, and when they brought her out she was like the full moon. She went to the king, greeted him and kissed the ground before him. So great was his joy that he told the prince: ‘All this is thanks to the blessings you have brought; may God grant us more of your favours.’ ‘Your majesty,’ replied the prince, ‘in order to complete and perfect her cure you should go out yourself with all your guards and your troops to the place where you found her, taking the ebony horse that was with her so that I may remove the evil spirit from her by a charm, imprison it and kill it so as to keep it from ever returning to her.’
The king agreed willingly and he had the ebony horse taken out to the meadow where he had found the princess, the horse and the Persian sorcerer. He himself rode there with his troops, taking the princess with him, but they did not know what the prince intended to do. He, for his part, acting in his role as sorcerer, gave orders, when they reached the meadow, that the king and his men should stay almost out of sight of the girl and the horse. He said: ‘With your permission, your majesty, I shall release incense and recite a charm so as to imprison the evil spirit and prevent it from ever coming back to her again. Then I shall mount the ebony horse and take her up behind me. When I do that, the horse will be stirred into a walk; I shall come across to you and, as the cure will then be complete, you can do whatever you want with her.’ The king was delighted to hear this and he and all his men watched as the prince mounted the horse and took the girl up behind him. He held her tightly and, after tying her firmly in place, he turned the screw to make the horse take off. It climbed into the air, watched by the soldiers until it went out of sight. For half a day the king waited, expecting the prince to return, but at last, when this did not happen, he despaired and, filled with regret and sorrow for the loss of the princess, he went back with his troops to his city.
So much for him, but as for the prince, he made joyfully for his father’s city, where he landed on his palace. He left the princess there, making sure of her safety, after which he went to his father and mother, greeted them and delighted them by telling them of her arrival.
So much for the prince, the horse and the princess, but as for the king of Rum, when he got back to his city he shut himself away in sorrow and dejection. His viziers visited him and started to question him, pointing out that the man who had carried off the girl was a sorcerer and that the king should thank God for having saved him from his magical wiles. They continued to comfort the king until he was consoled for her loss.
As for the prince, he gave magnificent banquets for the townspeople…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and seventy-first night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the prince gave magnificent banquets for the townspeople, who spent a whole month celebrating his wedding. The marriage was then consummated and the bride and bridegroom were happy with one another. The prince’s father smashed the ebony horse, destroying its workings, while the prince wrote to the bride’s father, telling him about her, that he had married her and that she was in the best of states, as well as giving his messenger precious gifts and treasures to take to him. When the messenger reached his city, San‘a’ in Yemen, he handed them, together with the prince’s letter, to the king, who was filled with joy when he read it. He accepted the gifts, treated the messenger honourably and prepared a splendid present for his son-in-law, which he sent back with the messenger. On his return the man told the prince how pleased the king of San‘a’ had been to
receive news of his daughter, and the prince, in his turn, was delighted to hear this.
The prince wrote every year to his father-in-law and sent him presents, and they continued in this way until the prince’s father died and the prince succeeded to the throne. He treated his subjects justly, conducting himself in a way that won their approval, exercising authority and commanding obedience throughout his lands and among his people. They continued like this, enjoying the most delightful and pleasant of lives in luxury and health, until they were visited by the destroyer of delights and the parter of companions. Praise be to the living God, Who does not die and in Whose hands lie power and sovereignty.
A story is also told that once, long ago in an earlier age, there was a great king, a man of power and authority, who had a vizier named Ibrahim. Ibrahim had a daughter of remarkable beauty, unrivalled in the perfection of her loveliness, outstandingly cultured and of great intelligence. She had a fondness for wine and drinking parties, as well as a liking for handsome faces, elegant poetry and witty stories, while her innate grace moved men to love her. She was as a poet described her:
I am in love with the greatest enchantress among Turks and Arabs;
She argues with me on religious law, grammar and literature.
‘I am the grammatical object,’ she says, ‘but you put me in the genitive;
Why is that? This is a subject, so why is it in the accusative?’
I said to her: ‘My life and my soul are your ransom;
Do you not know that time is full of changes?
If you find yourself doubting this,
See how the head of a sentence can be fitted to its tail.’
The girl’s name was al-Ward fi’l-Akmam, a name that she owed to her delicacy and the perfection of her beauty,* while because of her mastery of literature she was a favourite drinking companion of the king. It was a habit of his every year to gather together the most prominent of his subjects for a game of polo, and on the day that this happened she was sitting at her window to watch the game.
While it was going on, she suddenly noticed among the players a surpassingly splendid and handsome young man, bright faced with gleaming teeth, tall and broad-shouldered. She looked at him again and again and could not see enough of him. So she asked her nurse: ‘What is the name of that good-looking young man, there among the players?’ ‘They are all good-looking, my daughter,’ said the nurse, ‘so which one do you mean?’ ‘Wait till I point him out to you,’ the girl told her, and she then took an apple and threw it at him. He looked up and saw her at the window like a moon in the dark of night, and with that one glance he fell in love. In his distraction he recited the lines:
Did an archer shoot me or was it your eyelids
That murdered the lover’s heart when he looked at you?
Was the notched arrow that suddenly struck me
Shot by an army or launched from a window?
When the game was over she again asked her nurse: ‘What is the name of the young man I showed you?’ and the nurse told her that he was called Uns al-Wujud. The girl shook her head and lay down on her couch, with her thoughts on fire with love. She sighed deeply and recited these lines:
He made no mistake who named you Uns al-Wujud,
You who combine friendship and generosity.
Your face is that of the full moon,
Shedding over the world a light shared by all existing things.
Among mankind you are unique,
The master of beauty, and to this I call witnesses.
Your eyebrow is an elegantly written letter nun;
Your eyeball is like the letter sad, shaped by the loving God;
Your figure is that of a tender branch,
Which gives generously when the call comes.
You have overcome all the riders of the world in might,
But also in friendliness, beauty and liberality.
When she had finished these lines she wrote them on a sheet of paper, folded it in a scrap of gold-embroidered silk and put it under her pillow. One of her nurses had been watching her, and this woman then came to her and started talking with her until she fell asleep. Then the woman stealthily took the paper from beneath the pillow and, when she had examined it, she realized that al-Ward had conceived a passion for Uns al-Wujud. Having read it, she put it back in its place, and when her mistress woke up, she said to her: ‘My lady, I would like to give you advice because of the sympathy that I have for you. You must know that love is a powerful force; if it is hidden, it can melt iron and it leaves a legacy of sickness and disease, while no one who openly proclaims it can be blamed.’ ‘Nurse,’ asked al-Ward, ‘what is the cure for passion?’ ‘Union,’ replied the nurse. ‘And how is this to be achieved?’ asked al-Ward. ‘My lady,’ the nurse told her, ‘this can be done by an exchange of messages, tender words and a multiplicity of salutations and greetings. This brings lovers together and smooths away difficulties. If you are experiencing something of this kind, I am best fitted to keep your secret, to see that you get what you want and to carry your letters.’
Although al-Ward was delighted when she heard this, she decided not to say anything until she had seen how the affair would turn out, telling herself: ‘No one has learned anything about this affair from me, and I shall not give it away to this woman until I have tested her.’ The nurse then said to her: ‘My mistress, I had a dream in which a man came up to me and said: “Your lady and Uns al-Wujud are in love with each other. If you take a hand in the affair, carrying their letters, doing whatever they want, and keeping all this a secret, great good will come to you.” Now I have told you what I saw, but it is for you to decide.’ When she had heard the story of the dream, al-Ward…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and seventy-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when she had heard the story of the dream, al-Ward said: ‘Can you keep a secret?’ ‘How could I fail to do this,’ the nurse replied, ‘when I am one of the noblest of the noble?’ Al-Ward then brought out the paper on which she had written her poem and told the nurse to take it to Uns al-Wujud and return with his answer. She set off with it and when she reached Uns al-Wujud she kissed his hands and greeted him eloquently before giving him the paper. He read it and after grasping its meaning he wrote these lines on the back of it:
I try to divert my heart and to conceal its passion,
But my condition clearly shows I am in love.
If my tears flow, I claim my eye is injured,
Lest the censurer see my state and understand.
I was heart-whole, not knowing what love was,
But now I am a lover with a heart enslaved.
I have taken my case to you, and I complain
Of passionate love to gain your sympathy and mercy.
The letters of this message are my tears,
To make clear what I suffer at your hands.
God guard a face that is here veiled in beauty;
The full moon is its slave, the stars its servants.
In point of beauty I have never seen her like;
Her movements teach the branches how to sway.
I do not want to burden you, but still I ask
For you to visit me, as union must be prized.
If you accept it, I give you my soul;
For me union is Paradise, and rejection, hell.
He folded the letter, kissed it and gave it to the nurse, asking her to win over her mistress’s heart. ‘To hear is to obey,’ she replied and, taking the letter, she went back to al-Ward and gave it to her.
Al-Ward kissed it and put it on top of her head before opening it, reading it and grasping its meaning. She then wrote these lines at the bottom of it:
Your heart is smitten by my loveliness;
Be patient, it may be that your love will win my favour.
When I found that this love of yours was true
And t
hat what smote my heart had smitten yours as well,
I would have granted you the gift of union and then doubled it,
But those who keep me in seclusion held me back.
In the dark night, from the excess of love
Fires blaze within my inmost parts.
Through harshness sleep is driven from my bed,
My body is tormented by my pain.
The law of love requires love be concealed,
So do not lift the curtain that is lowered.
I am filled up with my love for a fawn;
Would that this fawn might never leave my land.
When she had finished her poem, she folded the piece of paper and gave it to her nurse, who took it and left her. On her way out she happened to meet the chamberlain, who asked where she was going. She told him that she was going to the baths, but in her agitation she dropped the paper as she went out of the door.
So much for her, but as for the paper, it was noticed by one of the eunuchs as it lay in the passage, and he picked it up. The vizier had left the harem and was sitting on his couch when this man came up to him, holding the piece of paper in his hand. He told his master where he had found it and the vizier took it from him, unfolded it and saw the lines of poetry that were written there. He read them and, after grasping their meaning, he examined the writing more carefully and recognized his daughter’s hand. Weeping so bitterly that the tears dampened his beard, he went to the girl’s mother, who asked him what was wrong. ‘Look at what is on this paper,’ he said. She took it, read it and found that it was a message from her daughter to Uns al-Wujud. She too burst out weeping, but then she regained control of herself, checked her tears and told the vizier: ‘Master, there is nothing to be gained from tears and what we have to do is see whether we can find some way of protecting your honour and concealing your daughter’s affair.’ She continued to console him and to lighten his load of sorrow, until he told her: ‘I’m afraid that this love will harm my daughter. You know how fond the king is of Uns al-Wujud and I have two reasons for fear. The first is that this is my daughter, and the second is the fact that Uns al-Wujud is a royal favourite. It may be that this affair will have serious consequences. So what do you advise?’