Hasan Shuman was asking the officer of the watch where the men were, when in they came without their clothes and he recited these lines:
What people get may be the same;
What they produce is different.
Some are learned; some are fools;
Some stars are dim and others bright.
He looked at them and asked who had tricked them and stripped them. They told him: ‘We were supposed to be looking for an old woman, but it was a pretty girl who took our clothes.’ ‘That was a good trick she played on you,’ he said, and when they asked whether he knew her, he said: ‘Yes, and I know the old woman too.’ ‘What are you going to say to the caliph?’ they asked, and he then told Ahmad to shake his head in the caliph’s presence. ‘He will ask who is responsible for producing the old woman, and if he goes on to say: “Why haven’t you arrested her?” tell him: “I don’t know her, so put Hasan Shuman in charge of the case,” and if he does, I shall arrest her.’
They spent the night there, and the next morning they went to the caliph’s court and kissed the ground. ‘Where is the old woman, Captain Ahmad?’ the caliph asked, and when Ahmad shook his head the caliph asked why he was doing that. Ahmad said: ‘I don’t know her, so leave her to Hasan Shuman, who knows both her and her daughter.’ Hasan then said: ‘The old woman has not played these tricks because she wanted other people’s property but to show off her cleverness and that of her daughter so as to get you to pay the two of them the same allowance that you gave her husband.’ He asked that she should not be put to death and promised to bring her to the caliph, who, for his part, promised to accept his intercession and spare her on condition that she return the stolen goods. ‘Give me an assurance of pardon,’ said Hasan. ‘She is covered by your intercession,’ the caliph told him, giving him the kerchief which served as a token of clemency.
Hasan now went to Dalila’s house and called to her. He was answered by her daughter, Zainab, and when he asked where her mother was, she said: ‘Upstairs.’ ‘Tell her to fetch the things that she took and to come with me to meet the caliph, for I’ve brought her the kerchief of pardon, and if she doesn’t come willingly she will only have herself to blame.’ Dalila came down and tied the kerchief round her neck, after which she gave Hasan the things that she had taken to be loaded on to the donkey man’s donkey and the Bedouin’s horse. ‘Where are the clothes of my captain and his men?’ he asked, and Dalila told him: ‘I swear by the Greatest Name of God that it wasn’t I who stripped them.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Hasan, ‘but this was a trick played by your daughter, Zainab, who was doing you a favour.’
He set off, accompanied by Zainab, for the caliph’s court, where he presented the stolen goods to the caliph and brought Dalila before him. When he saw her, he ordered that she be thrown on to the execution mat. She appealed to Hasan for protection, and he kissed the caliph’s hands, exclaiming: ‘Spare her, for you promised to pardon her!’ ‘I shall do this for your sake,’ the caliph told him, and he then asked Dalila her name. When she told him, he said: ‘You are nothing but a scheming and wily woman,’ this being how she got the title of ‘Dalila the wily’. Next he asked: ‘Why did you disturb us by playing these tricks?’ ‘It was not because I wanted these people’s goods,’ she said, ‘but I had heard of those other tricks played in Baghdad by Ahmad al-Danaf and Hasan Shuman and I said to myself that I too could do that kind of thing. Now I have given back what I took.’ The donkey man, however, said: ‘I invoke Islamic law. It was not enough for her to take my donkey, but she put me in the power of the Maghribi barber, who pulled out my teeth and twice cauterized my temples.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seven hundred and eighth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the donkey man said: ‘I invoke Islamic law. It was not enough for her to take my donkey, but she put me in the power of the Maghribi barber, who pulled out my teeth and twice cauterized my temples.’ The caliph ordered him to be given a hundred dinars and he gave another hundred to the dyer to refurbish his shop. They called down blessings on him and went off, while the Bedouin took his belongings and his horse, exclaiming: ‘I must never enter Baghdad or eat honey doughnuts!’ Everyone else took what was theirs and they all then dispersed. The caliph then allowed Dalila a wish and she said: ‘My father served you as postmaster, while I reared the carrier pigeons and my husband was city captain. What I want is to take over my husband’s post, while my daughter wants that of my father.’ The caliph authorized this, and Dalila then told him: ‘I would like to be doorkeeper of the khan.’ The caliph had built a khan, three storeys high, as a hostel for merchants, and he assigned to it forty slaves and forty dogs that he had taken from the ruler of Sulaimaniya when he deposed him, providing them with collars. There was also a slave who did the cooking for the others and who fed the dogs their meat. The caliph agreed to entrust the position to Dalila, but said that if anything went missing from the place, she would be responsible for it. She accepted this condition and went on to ask that her daughter be allowed to live in the loft on top of the gate, as it had a roof terrace and pigeons could only be reared where there was plenty of space. This too was agreed by the caliph.
Zainab moved all her possessions there, hanging up the robes of Ahmad al-Danaf’s forty men and those of Ahmad himself, and she took charge of the forty carrier pigeons. The caliph had put Dalila in charge of the forty slaves, telling them to follow her orders. She used to sit behind the khan door, but every day she would go to court in case the caliph needed to send a message somewhere, staying there until evening while the slaves looked after the khan, and at night the dogs would be let loose to guard it.
This is what happened to Dalila the wily in Baghdad.
‘Ali al-Zaibaq the Cairene was a trickster living in Cairo when the chief of police there was a man called Salah al-Misri, who had a force of forty men. These men used to set traps for ‘Ali, expecting that he would fall into one of them, but when they looked, they would find that he had slipped away like mercury and this was why he was called ‘Ali al-Zaibaq. One day, when he was sitting in his hall with his men, he felt depressed and gloomy, and when his lieutenant saw him there with a frown on his face, he asked: ‘What’s wrong, chief? If you’re out of sorts, take a stroll through the city, as a walk in the markets will cure your cares.’ So ‘Ali got up to walk through Cairo, but he only became more and more depressed. He passed a wine shop and thought of going there to get drunk, but when he went in he found seven rows of people sitting there. He told the proprietor that he would only sit alone, and so the man put him in a room by himself and brought him wine. When he had drunk himself silly, he left the place and set out through the city.
He walked on and on through the streets until he reached al-Darb al-Ahmar and, thanks to the awe in which he was held, the road emptied before him. He turned to see a water carrier, with his jug, calling out on the road: ‘Take and give! The only drink comes from raisins; the only union is with the beloved and only the intelligent sit at the top table.’ ‘Come here and pour me a drink,’ ‘Ali called, and the man gave him the jug, but after staring at it ‘Ali upset it and poured the contents on to the ground. ‘Aren’t you going to drink?’ the man asked, and ‘Ali again said: ‘Pour it for me,’ but again he upset the jug and poured away the water. He went on to do this a third time, and the man said: ‘If you’re not going to drink, I’m off.’ ‘Pour me a drink,’ ‘Ali told him, and this time, when the man filled the jug and passed it to him, ‘Ali took it from him, drank and gave him a dinar. The man looked at him contemptuously and said: ‘Good luck, good luck to you, young man! Little men are great in some people’s eyes.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seven hundred and ninth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when ‘Ali gave the water carrier a dinar, the man looked at hi
m contemptuously and said: ‘Good luck, good luck to you, young man! Little men are great in some people’s eyes.’ ‘Ali went up to him and seized him by his shirt, drawing a costly dagger such as the one described in the lines:
Strike the stubborn enemy with your dagger,
Fearing nothing but the Creator’s power.
Avoid those who are to be blamed,
And never abandon generous qualities.
‘Shaikh,’ he said, ‘talk sense. Your water skin would fetch three dirhams at the most and I only emptied out one ratl of water from the jug.’ The water carrier agreed, and ‘Ali went on: ‘I gave you a gold dinar, so why do you despise me? Have you ever seen a braver or a more generous man than me?’ ‘Yes, I have,’ the water carrier replied, ‘for while women have been bearing children, there has never been a brave man in this world who was not generous.’ ‘Who was it whom you found to outdo me?’ ‘Ali asked, and THE MAN SAID:
I had a remarkable adventure. My father was the chief of the water carriers in Cairo. When he died he left me five camels, a mule, a booth and a house, but a poor man is never satisfied until he dies. I said to myself that I would go to the Hijaz, so I took my string of camels and kept on borrowing money until I had collected five hundred dinars, but I lost all this on the pilgrimage. I told myself that, were I to go back to Cairo, my creditors would imprison me for debt and so I set off with the Syrian pilgrims, and after reaching Aleppo I went on to Baghdad. There I asked for the chief of the water carriers, and after I had been directed to him I went in and recited the first sura of the Quran for him. He asked me about my circumstances and, when I had told him all that had happened to me, he let me have an empty booth and gave me a water skin and other equipment. The next morning I set out to walk around the city, trusting in God, but when I passed the jug to a man so that he could take a drink, he told me: ‘I don’t need a drink as I’ve not eaten. A miser invited me to his house and produced two pitchers of water. I said: “You miserable fellow, are you offering me a drink after having given me nothing at all to eat?” ’ So he told me to go away, adding: ‘When I have had some food, then you can pour me some water.’ I went up to someone else, but all he did was to say: ‘May God provide for you,’ and things went on like this until noon. Up till then nobody had given me anything at all and I said to myself that I wished I had never come to Baghdad.
Just then I saw a number of people running. I followed them and saw a long file of men riding two by two, with scarfs around their tarbooshes, wearing burnouses and protected with felt and steel. I asked a man who they were and he told me that this was the retinue of Captain Ahmad al-Danaf. ‘What is his post?’ I asked, and I was told that he was responsible for order at court and in Baghdad itself, as well as for policing the suburbs. He was paid a monthly salary of a thousand dinars by the caliph, while each of his men got a hundred and Hasan Shuman got the same pay as Ahmad. The men were now on their way from the court to their barracks. At that point, Ahmad caught sight of me and asked me for a drink. I filled the jug and passed it to him, but he upset it and poured out the water. He did this again, but the third time he took a sip, like you. Then he asked me where I came from and when I said: ‘Cairo,’ he exclaimed: ‘God bless Cairo and the Cairenes!’ before going on to ask why I had come to Baghdad. I told him my story, explaining that I owed money and had come to escape debt and poverty. He welcomed me and gave me five dinars, after which he said to his men: ‘Be generous to this man for the sake of God.’ They each gave me a dinar and Ahmad said: ‘Shaikh, as long as you stay in Baghdad, you can have this every time you pour water for us.’ I kept on going to these people and receiving their generosity so that when, after some days, I counted up what I had got from them, I found that it came to a thousand dinars.
I said to myself that the proper thing to do would be to go back to Egypt, and so I went to Ahmad’s headquarters and kissed his hands. When he asked me what I wanted, I said: ‘I want to go home,’ and I recited these lines for him:
Wherever a stranger stays,
It is like a castle built on winds.
A breath of air destroys what he has made,
And so this stranger has made up his mind to leave.
I added that a caravan was setting out for Cairo and that I wanted to go back to my family. He gave me a mule and a hundred dinars, before saying: ‘Shaikh, I want to entrust you with something. Do you know the people in Cairo?’ ‘Yes,’ I said…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the seven hundred and tenth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE MAN WENT ON:
Ahmad gave me a mule and a hundred dinars, before saying: ‘Shaikh, I want to entrust you with something. Do you know the people in Cairo?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, and he told me: ‘Take this letter and deliver it to ‘Ali al-Zaibaq of Cairo. Tell him: “Your chief sends you his greetings, and he is now with the caliph.” ’ So I took the letter from him and came back to Cairo, and when my creditors saw me I settled my debts. I started to work again as a water carrier, but I haven’t delivered Ahmad’s letter as I don’t know where the man is based.’
‘You can relax happily,’ said ‘Ali, ‘for I’m the man you want and I was the first of Captain Ahmad’s young men. So hand over the letter.’ The water carrier gave it to him, and he opened it and read it. In it he found these lines:
Ornament of the handsome, I have written to you
On paper that will travel with the winds.
Could I fly, I would do so out of longing,
But how can a bird fly whose wings are clipped?
It went on: ‘Greetings from Captain Ahmad al-Danaf to the senior of his children, ‘Ali al-Zaibaq of Cairo. I have to tell you that I targeted Salah al-Din al-Misri and buried him alive with the tricks that I played on him, so that I won over his men, among them being ‘Ali Kitf al-Jamal. I was then attached to the court and put in charge of policing Baghdad as well as the suburbs. If you want to keep to the agreement that we made, then come to me. You may be able to bring off some coup here that will ingratiate you with the caliph and get him to give you a salary and allowances, as well as providing you with a base, which is what I would like. Goodbye.’
When ‘Ali had read the letter, he kissed it and put it on his head before handing the water carrier ten dinars as a reward for the good news. He then went back to his headquarters, where he passed this on to his followers and told them to look after each other. Next he removed the clothes that he was wearing and put on a long cloak and a tarboosh, taking a case containing a spear twenty-four cubits long made of bamboo whose sections fitted into one another. His lieutenant said: ‘Are you going off when our coffers are empty?’ but ‘Ali said: ‘When I get to Damascus, I’ll send you enough to keep you going.’
He then went on his way and joined up with a caravan in which the chief of the merchants was travelling with forty of his colleagues. All their goods had been loaded except for those of their chief, which were still on the ground, and ‘Ali heard the caravan leader, a Syrian, telling the muleteers to come and help him, only to be answered with insults and abuse. ‘Ali told himself that the best thing for him would be to travel with this man. He himself was a handsome, beardless boy, and so he went up and greeted the Syrian, who welcomed him and asked what he wanted. ‘Uncle,’ ‘Ali said, ‘I see that you are single-handed with forty mule-loads of goods. Why didn’t you bring people to help you?’ ‘My son,’ the Syrian replied, ‘I hired two lads, provided them with clothes and put two hundred dinars in the pockets of each of them, but after they had helped me as far as al-Khanika, they ran off.’ ‘Where are you making for?’ asked ‘Ali, and when the Syrian told him: ‘Aleppo,’ he said: ‘I shall help you.’
They loaded the goods and set out, together with the chief of the merchants on his mule. The Syrian was glad to have ‘Ali with him, and fell in love with him. At nightfall the caravan halted and they ate and drank, after which, when it w
as time for sleep, ‘Ali lay down on his side on the ground and pretended to be asleep. The Syrian slept near him, but ‘Ali got up and sat down at the entrance to the chief’s pavilion. The Syrian turned over, meaning to take ‘Ali in his arms, and when he could not find him he said to himself: ‘He may have been taken by someone else to whom he made a promise, but I have a better right to him, and another night I shall keep him with me.’
As for ‘Ali, he stayed where he was by the merchant’s pavilion until it was nearly dawn, after which he came and lay down near the Syrian. When the man woke up to find him there, he said to himself: ‘If I ask him where he has been, he will leave me and go off.’ ‘Ali continued to outwit him until they came to a wood with a cave which served as a den for a fierce lion; every caravan that passed would draw lots, the loser being thrown to the lion. This time it was the chief of the merchants who drew the short straw, and the lion appeared, blocking the path and waiting for its victim. In great distress the merchant went to the caravan leader and cursed him and his journey, before telling him to give the goods that he had with him to his children after his death. The cunning ‘Ali asked what this was all about, and when they told him, he said: ‘Why do you run away from a desert cat? I’ll undertake to kill it for you.’ The caravan leader went to the merchant and told him about this, after which he promised to give ‘Ali a thousand dinars if he killed the lion, while the others also promised to reward him.
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 2 Page 105
