Ghezban! How darest thou demand this of me, O son of shame and
nursling of lewdness? Dost thou think all folk are alike!" When
the pestilent slave heard this, he was enraged and his eyes
reddened: and he came up to her and smote her with the sword on
her neck and killed her. Then he made off into the mountains,
driving her horse before him with the treasure. In the agonies of
death, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Merjaneh took
him and laid him by her side, after doing him the necessary
offices; and behold, the child fastened to its mother's breast,
and she dead. When Merjaneh saw this, she cried out grievously
and rent her clothes and cast dust on her head and buffeted her
cheeks, till the blood came, saying, "Alas, my mistress! Alas,
the pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black
slave, after all thy prowess!" As she sat weeping, there arose a
great cloud of dust and darkened the plain; but, after awhile, it
lifted and discovered a numerous army. Now this was the army of
King Herdoub, the princess Abrizeh's father, who, hearing that
his daughter had fled to Baghdad, she and her maidens, and that
they were with King Omar ben Ennuman, had come out with his
troops to seek tidings of her from travellers who might have seen
her with King Omar at Baghdad. When he had gone a day's journey
from his capital, he espied three horsemen afar off and made
towards them, thinking to ask whence they came and seek news of
his daughter. Now these three were his daughter and Merjaneh and
Ghezban; and when the latter saw the troops drawing near, he
feared for himself; so he killed Abrizeh and fled. When they came
up and King Herdoub saw his daughter lying dead and Merjaneh
weeping over her, he threw himself from his horse and fell down
in a swoon. So all his company dismounted and pitching the tents,
set up a great pavilion for the King, without which stood the
grandees of the kingdom. At the sight of her lord the King,
Merjaneh's tears redoubled, and when he came to himself, he
questioned her and she told him all that had passed, how he that
had slain his daughter was a black slave, belonging to King Omar
ben Ennuman, and how the latter had dealt with the princess. When
King Herdoub heard this, the world grew black in his sight and he
wept sore. Then he called for a litter and laying his dead
daughter therein, returned to Caesarea and carried her into the
palace. Then he went in to his mother Dhat ed Dewahi and said to
her, "Shall the Muslims deal thus with my daughter? King Omar ben
Ennuman despoiled her by force of her honour and after this, one
of his black slaves slew her. By the Messiah, I will assuredly be
revenged for her and clear away the stain from my honour! Else I
shall kill myself with my own hand." And he wept passing sore.
Quoth his mother, "It was none other than Merjaneh killed her,
for she hated her in secret. But do not thou fret for taking
revenge for thy daughter, for, by the virtue of the Messiah, I
will not turn back from King Omar ben Ennuman, till I have slain
him and his sons; and I will assuredly do a deed, passing the
power of wise men and champions, of which the chroniclers shall
tell in all countries and places: but needs must thou obey me in
all I shall direct, for he who is firmly set on aught shall
surely compass his desire." "By the virtue of the Messiah,"
replied he, "I will not cross thee in aught that thou shalt say!"
Then said she, "Bring me a number of damsels, high-bosomed maids,
and summon the wise men of the time and let them teach them
philosophy and the art of conversation and making verses and the
rules of behaviour before kings, and let them talk with them of
all manner of science and edifying knowledge. The sages must be
Muslims, that they may teach the damsels the language and
traditions of the Arabs, together with the history of the Khalifs
and the pedigree of the Kings of Islam; and if we persevere in
this for the space of four years, we shall attain our end. So
possess thy soul in patience and wait; for, as one of the Arabs
says, 'It is a little thing to wait forty years for one's
revenge.' When we have taught the girls these things, we shall be
able to do our will with our enemy, for he is a doting lover of
women and has three hundred and threescore concubines, to which
are now added a hundred of the flower of thy damsels, that were
with thy late daughter. So, as soon as we have made an end of
their education, I will take them and set out with them." When
the King heard his mother's words, he rejoiced and came up to her
and kissed her head. Then he rose at once and despatched
messengers and couriers to the ends of the earth, to fetch him
Muslim sages. So they betook them to distant lands and brought
him thence the sages and doctors whom he sought. When they were
before him, he made much of them and bestowed on them dresses of
honour, appointing them stipends and allowances and promising
them much money, whenas they should have taught the damsels. Then
he committed the latter to their charge, enjoining them to
instruct them in all manner of knowledge, sacred and profane, and
all polite accomplishments; and they set themselves to do his
bidding.
As for King Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned from hunting, he
sought the princess Abrizeh, but found her not nor could any give
him news of her. This was grievous to him and he said, "How did
she leave the palace, unknown of any? Had my kingdom been at
stake in this, it were in a parlous case! Never again will I go
a-hunting till I have sent to the gates those who shall keep good
guard over them!" And he was sore vexed and heavy at heart for
the loss of the princess Abrizeh. Presently, his son Sherkan
returned from his journey; and he told him what had happened and
how the princess had fled, whilst he was absent a-hunting,
whereat he was greatly concerned. Then King Omar took to visiting
his children every day and making much of them and brought them
wise men and doctors, to teach them, appointing them stipends and
allowances. When Sherkan saw this, he was exceeding wroth and
jealous of his brother and sister, so that the signs of chagrin
appeared in his face and he ceased not to languish by reason of
this, till one day his father said to him, "What ails thee, that
I see thee grown weak in body and pale of face?" "O my father,"
replied Sherkan, "every time I see thee fondle my brother and
sister and make much of them, jealousy seizes on me, and I fear
lest it grow on me, till I slay them and thou slay me in return.
This is the reason of my weakness of body and change of colour.
But now I crave of thy favour that thou give me one of thine
outlying fortresses, that I may abide there the rest of my life,
for as the byword says, 'It is better and fitter for me to be at
a distance from my friend; for when the eye seeth not, the heart
doth not grieve.'" And he bowed his head. When the King heard
Sherkan's words and knew the cause of his ailment, he soothed him
and said to him, "O my son, I grant thee this. I have not in my
realm a greater than the fortress of Damascus, and the government
of it is thine from this time." So saying, he called his
secretaries of state and bade them make out Sherkan's patent of
investiture to the viceroyalty of Damascus of Syria. Then he
equipped Sherkan and formally invested him with the office and
gave him his final instructions, enjoining him to policy and good
government; and the prince took leave of his father and the
grandees and officers of state and set out for his government,
taking with him the Vizier Dendan. When he arrived at Damascus,
the townspeople beat the drums and blew the trumpets and
decorated the city and came out to meet him in great state,
whilst all the notables and grandees walked in procession, each
according to his rank.
Soon after Sherkan's departure, the governors of King Omar's
children presented themselves before him and said to him, "O our
lord, thy children's education is now complete and they are
versed in all polite accomplishments and in the rules of manners
and etiquette." At this the King rejoiced with an exceeding joy
and conferred bountiful largesse upon the wise men, seeing
Zoulmekan grown up and flourishing and skilled in horsemanship.
The prince had now reached the age of fourteen and occupied
himself with piety and devout exercises, loving the poor and wise
men and the students of the Koran, so that all the people of
Baghdad loved him, men and women. One day, the procession of the
Mehmil[FN#20] of Irak passed round Baghdad, previously to the
departure of the pilgrimage to the holy places[FN#21] and tomb of
the Prophet.[FN#22] When Zoulmekan saw the procession, he was
seized with longing to go on the pilgrimage; so he went in to his
father and said to him, "I come to ask thy leave to make the
pilgrimage."
But his father forbade him, saying, "Wait till next year, and I
will go with thee." When Zoulmekan saw that the fulfilment of his
desire was postponed, he betook himself to his sister Nuzhet ez
Zeman, whom he found standing at prayer. As soon as she had made
an end of her devotions, he said to her, "I am dying of desire to
see the Holy House of God at Mecca and to visit the Prophet's
tomb. I asked my father's leave, but he forbade me: so I mean to
take somewhat of money and set out privily on the pilgrimage,
without his knowledge." "I conjure thee by Allah," exclaimed she,
"to take me with thee and that thou forbid me not to visit the
tomb of the Prophet, whom God bless and preserve!" And he
answered, "As soon as it is dark night, do thou leave this place,
without telling any, and come to me." Accordingly, she waited
till the middle of the night, when she donned a man's habit and
went to the gate of the palace, where she found Zoulmekan with
camels ready harnessed. So they mounted and riding after the
caravan, mingled with the Irak pilgrims, and God decreed them a
prosperous journey, so that they entered Mecca the Holy in
safety, standing upon Arafat and performing the various rites of
the pilgrimage. Then they paid a visit to the tomb of the Prophet
(whom God bless and preserve) and thought to return with the
pilgrims to their native land; but Zoulmekan said to his sister,
"O my sister, it is in my mind to visit Jerusalem and the tomb of
Abraham the friend of God (on whom be peace)." "I also desire to
do this," replied she. So they agreed upon this, and he went out
and took passage for himself and her and they made ready and
set out with a company of pilgrims bound for Jerusalem. That very
night she fell sick of an ague and was grievously ill, but
presently recovered, after which her brother also sickened. She
tended him during the journey, but the fever increased on him and
he grew weaker and weaker, till they arrived at Jerusalem, where
they alighted at a khan and hired a lodging there. Here they
abode some time, whilst Zoulmekan's weakness increased on him,
till he was wasted with sickness and became delirious. At this,
his sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, "There is no
power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! It is
He who hath decreed this." They sojourned there awhile, his
sickness ever increasing and she tending him, till all their
money was spent and she had not so much as a dirhem left. Then
she sent a servant of the khan to the market, to sell some of her
clothes, and spent the price upon her brother; and so she sold
all she had, piece by piece, till she had nothing left but an old
rug; whereupon she wept and exclaimed, "God is the Orderer of the
past and the future!" Presently, her brother said to her, "O my
sister, I feel recovery drawing near and I long for a little
roast meat." "O my brother," replied she, "I am ashamed to beg;
but tomorrow I will enter some rich man's house and serve him and
earn somewhat for our living." Then she bethought herself awhile
and said, "It is hard to me to leave thee and thou in this state,
but I must perforce go." "God forbid!" rejoined he. "Thou wilt be
put to shame; but there is no power and no virtue but in God!"
And he wept and she wept too. Then she said, "O my brother, we
are strangers and this whole year have we dwelt here; yet none
hath knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no
resource but that I go out and earn somewhat to keep us alive,
till thou recover from thy sickness; when we will return to our
native land." She sat weeping with him awhile, after which she
rose and veiling her head with a camel-cloth, which the owner had
forgotten with them, embraced her brother and went forth, weeping
and knowing not whither she should go. Zoulmekan abode, awaiting
her return, till the evening; but she came not, and the night
passed and the morning came, but still she returned not; and so
two days went by. At this he was greatly troubled and his heart
fluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left
the chamber and calling the servant of the inn, bade him carry
him to the bazaar. So he carried him to the market and laid him
down there; and the people of Jerusalem came round him and were
moved to tears at his condition. He signed to them for somewhat
to eat; so they took money from some of the merchants and bought
food and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a
shop, where they laid him on a mat of palm-leaves and set a
vessel of water at his head. At nightfall, they all went away,
sore concerned for him, and in the middle of the night, he called
to mind his sister, and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he
abstained from eating and drinking and became insensible. When
the people of the market saw him thus, they took thirty dirhems
for him from the merchants and hiring a camel, said to the
driver, "Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him at the
hospital; peradventure he may be cured and recover his health."
"On my head be it!" replied he; but he said to himself, "How
shall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?"
So he carried him away and hid with him till the night, when he
threw him down on the fuel-heap in the stoke-hole of a bath and
went his way. In the morning, the stoker of the bath came to his
work and finding Zoulmekan cast on his back on the fuel-heap,
exclaimed, "Could they find no other place in which to throw this
dead man?" So saying, he gave him a push with his foot, and he
moved, whereupon quoth the stoker, "This is some one who has
eaten hashish and thrown himself down at hazard." Then he looked
at him and saw that he had no hair on his face and was endowed
with grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that
he was sick and a stranger. "There is no power and no virtue but
in God!" said he "I have sinned against this youth; for indeed
the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) enjoins hospitality to
strangers." Then he lifted him up and carrying him to his own
house, committed him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she
spread him a bed and laid a cushion under his head, then heated
water and washed his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the
stoker went to the market and buying rose-water and sherbet of
sugar, sprinkled Zoulmekan's face with the one and gave him to
drink of the other. Then he fetched a clean shirt and put it on
him. With this, Zoulmekan scented the breeze of recovery and life
returned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. At
this the stoker rejoiced and exclaimed, "O my God, I beseech
Thee, by Thy hidden mysteries, make the salvation of this youth
to be at my hands!" And he nursed him assiduously for three days,
giving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow-flower water
and rose-water and doing him all manner of service and kindness,
till health began to return to his body and he opened his eyes
and sat up. Presently the stoker came in and seeing him sitting
up and showing signs of amendment, said to him, "How dost thou
now, O my son?" "Thanks be to God," replied Zoulmekan, "I am well
and like to recover, if so He please." The stoker praised the
Lord of All for this and going to the market, bought ten
chickens, which he carried to his wife and said to her, "Kill two
of these for him every day, one in the morning and the other at
nightfall." So she rose and killed a fowl, then boiling it,
brought it to him and fed him with the flesh and gave him the
broth to drink. When he had done eating, she brought hot water
and he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow; whereupon
she covered him up and he slept till the time of afternoon-prayer.
Then she killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut
it up and bringing it to Zoulmekan, said, "Eat, O my son!"
Presently, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat
down at his head and said to him, "How is it with thee now, O my
son?" "Thanks be to God for recovery!" replied he. "May He
requite thee thy goodness to me!" At this the stoker rejoiced
and going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose-water and made
him drink it. Now his day's earnings at the bath were five
dirhems, of which he spent every day two dirhems for Zoulmekan,
one for sweet waters and sherbets and another for fowls; and he
ceased not to entreat him thus kindly for a whole month, till
the trace of illness ceased from him and he was quite recovered
whereupon the stoker and his wife rejoiced and the former
said to him, "O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?"
"Willingly," replied he. So the stoker went to the market and
fetched an ass, on which he mounted Zoulmekan and supported him
in the saddle, till they came to the bath Then he made him alight
and sit down, whilst he repaired to the market and bought
lote-leaves and lupin-meal,[FN#23] with which he returned to the
bath and said to Zoulmekan, "O my son, in the name of God, enter,
and I will wash thy body." So they both entered the inner room of
the bath, and the stoker fell to rubbing Zoulmekan's legs and was
going on to wash his body with the lote-leaves and powder, when
there came to them a bathman, whom the keeper of the bath had
sent to Zoulmekan, and seeing the stoker rubbing and washing the
latter, said to him, "This is trespassing on the keeper's
rights." "By Allah," replied the stoker, "the master overwhelms
us with his favours!" Then the bathman proceeded to shave
Zoulmekan's head, after which he and the stoker washed and
returned to the latter's house, where he clad Zoulmekan in a
shirt of fine stuff and a tunic of his own and gave him a
handsome turban and girdle and wound a silken kerchief about his
neck. Meanwhile the stoker's wife had killed two chickens and
cooked them for him; so, as soon as Zoulmekan entered and seated
himself on the couch, the stoker arose and dissolving sugar in
willow-flower water, made him drink it. Then he brought the tray
of food and cutting up the chickens, fed him with the meat and
broth, till he was satisfied, when he washed his hands and
praised God for recovery, saying to the stoker, "It is to thee,
under God the Most High, that I owe my life!" "Leave this talk,"
replied the stoker, "and tell us the manner of thy coming to this
city and whence thou art; for I see signs of gentle breeding in
thy face." "Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me,"
said Zoulmekan; "and after I will tell thee my story." "As
for that," rejoined the stoker, "I found thee lying on the
rubbish-heap, by the door of the stoke-house, as I went to my
work, near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee down
there. So I carried thee home with me; and this all I have to
tell." Quoth Zoulmekan, "Glory to Him who quickens the bones,
though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done
good to one who is unworthy, and thou shalt reap the reward of
this. But where am I now?" "In the city of Jerusalem," replied
the stoker; whereupon Zoulmekan called to mind his strangerhood
and his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered
his secret to the stoker and told him his story, repeating the
following verses:
They heaped up passion on my soul, beyond my strength to bear,
And for their sake my heart is racked with weariness and
care.
Ah, be ye pitiful to me, O cruel that ye are, For e'en my foes do
pity me, since you away did fare!
Grudge not to grant unto mine eyes a passing glimpse of you, To
ease the longing of my soul and lighten my despair.
I begged my heart to arm itself with patience for your loss.
"Patience was never of my wont," it answered; "so forbear."
Then he redoubled his weeping, and the stoker said to him, "Weep
not, but rather praise God for safety and recovery." Quoth
Zoulmekan, "How far is it hence to Damascus?" "Six days'
journey," answered the stoker "Wilt thou send me thither?" asked
Zoulmekan. "O my lord," replied the stoker, "how can I let thee
go alone, and thou a young lad and a stranger? If thou be minded
to make the journey to Damascus, I will go with thee; and if my
wife will listen to me and accompany me, I will take up my abode
there; for it goes to my heart to part with thee." Then said he
to his wife, "Wilt thou go with me to Damascus or wilt thou abide
here, whilst I bring this my lord thither and return to thee? For
he is bent upon, going to Damascus, and by Allah, it is hard to
me to part with him, and I fear for him from the highway
robbers." Quoth she, "I will go with you." And he said, "Praised
be God for accord!" Then he rose and selling all his own and his
wife's gear, bought a camel and hired an ass for Zoulmekan; and
they set out and reached Damascus at nightfall after six days'
journey. They alighted there, and the stoker went to the market
and bought meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in
Damascus, when his wife sickened and after a few days' illness,
was translated to the mercy of God. The stoker mourned for her
with an exceeding grief, and her death was no light matter to
Zoulmekan, for she had tended him assiduously and he was grown
used to her. Presently, he turned to the stoker and finding him
mourning, said to him, "Do not grieve, for we must all go in at
this gate."[FN#24] "God requite thee with good, O my son!"
replied the stoker. "Surely He will compensate us with his
bounties and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my
son? Shall we walk abroad to view Damascus and cheer our
spirits?" "Thy will is mine," replied Zoulmekan. So the stoker
took him by the hand, and they sallied forth and walked on, till
they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they
found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs
and saddle-horses and Bactrian camels and slaves, white and
black, and folk running to and fro and a great bustle. Quoth
Zoulmekan, "I wonder to whom all these camels and stuffs and
servants belong!" So he asked one of the slaves, and he replied,
"These are presents that the Viceroy of Damascus is sending to
King Omar ben Ennuman, with the tribute of Syria." When Zoulmekan
heard his father's name, his eyes filled with tears and he
repeated the following verses:
Ye that are far removed from my desireful sight, Ye that within
my heart are sojourners for aye,
Your comeliness is gone and life no more for me Is sweet, nor
will the pains of longing pass away.
If God one day decree reunion of our loves, How long a tale of
woes my tongue will have to say!
Then he wept and the stoker said to him, "O my son, thou art
hardly yet recovered; so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a
relapse for thee." And he applied himself to comfort him and
cheer him, whilst Zoulmekan sighed and bemoaned his strangerhood
and separation from his sister and his family and repeated the
following verses, with tears streaming from his eyes:
Provide thee for the world to come, for needs must thou be gone;
Or soon or late, for every one the lot of death is drawn.
Thy fortune in this world is but delusion and regret; Thy life in
it but vanity and empty chaff and awn.
The world, indeed, is but as 'twere a traveller's halting-place,
Who makes his camels kneel at eve and fares on with the
dawn.
And he continued to weep and lament, whilst the stoker wept too
for the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zoulmekan
till the morning. When the sun rose, he said to him, "Meseems
thou yearnest for thy native land?" "Even so," replied Zoulmekan,
"and I may not tarry here; so I will commend thee to God's care
and set out with these people and journey with them, little by
little, till I come to my country." "And I with thee," said the
stoker; "for I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee
service, and I mean to complete it by tending thee on the way."
At this, Zoulmekan rejoiced and said, "May God abundantly requite
thee for me!" Then the stoker went out and selling the camel,
bought another ass, which he brought to Zoulmekan, saying, "This
is for thee to ride by the way; and when thou art weary of
riding, thou canst dismount and walk." "May God bless thee and
help me to requite thee!" said Zoulmekan. "Indeed, thou hast
dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother." Then the
stoker provided himself with victual for the journey, and they
waited till it was dark night, when they laid their provisions
and baggage on the ass and set out on their journey.
To return to Nuzhet ez Zeman, when she left her brother in the
khan and went out to seek service with some one, that she might
earn wherewith to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared
on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was
occupied with concern for her brother and with thoughts of her
family and her native land. And she implored God the Most High to
do away these afflictions from them and repeated the following
verses:
The shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain, And
longing rouses within me the old desireful pain.
The anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast, And
love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain.
Passion hath made me restless and longing consumes my soul And
tears discover the secret that else concealed had lain.
I know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe, Nor can
my weak endeavour reknit love's severed skein.
The fire of my heart with yearnings and longing grief is fed And
for its heat, the lover to live in hell is fain.
O thou that thinkest to blame me for what betides me, enough; God
knows I suffer with patience whate'er He doth ordain.
I swear I shall ne'er find solace nor be consoled for love, The
oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are ne'er in
vain!
Bear tidings of me, I prithee, O night, to the bards of love And
that in thee I sleep not be witness yet again!