Tales of the Marvellous and News of the Strange (Hardcover Classics) (53 page)

He saw a wrap of hers, which he spread out in the middle of the room. He then took the bed cover, the pillow and the mattress, leaving the carpet, the lamp and the drinking bowl. He next took ten
ratls
of spinning wool, rolled them into a bundle and went out to the market, carrying them on his head. He put down the wrap and sold everything he had with him for twenty dinars. He went to the butcher and gave him a dinar and did the same with the baker, after which he went to knock on the prison door. When the gaoler asked who was there, he gave his name and said: ‘Take this dinar and buy something for your household. I have left a dinar for al-Ashraf with So-and-So the baker, another with the butcher and another with the greengrocer. Get him every day a
ratl
of bread and of meat, together with vegetables and cook them or roast them, whichever you prefer. If he wants anything else, use your own money so that I can go to Basra and tell his mother how he is, before coming back with her.’ The gaoler wished him success and sent him off.

‘Ubaid first went to the dungeon and spoke to al-Ashraf: ‘God be with you!’ he said, ‘I am going to your mother and I have paid in advance for you to have bread, meat, vegetables and anything else you want. The gaoler will fetch this for you.’ ‘May God reward you,’ al-Ashraf replied, ‘and may He allow me to repay you.’ ‘God be with you!’ ‘Ubaid repeated, and he took his leave and went off to hire a place on a barge.

After sailing downstream for some days, he reached Basra.

He asked about the river and was shown where to go. He saw a fine, large and handsome house, in the middle of which was a double door under a lofty arch, one leaf of which was open and the other closed. He went up to it and explained that he was a messenger from al-Ashraf. ‘Don’t make fun of us,’ said ‘Alam al-Husn, his mother. ‘It is a long time since any messenger came here, and are you now at the door?’ ‘Yes,’ ‘Ubaid told her. ‘What did al-Anjab give him?’ she asked. ‘By God, nothing but blows and humiliation,’ said ‘Ubaid. ‘He put a collar round his neck, fetters on his feet and threw him down into a dungeon. I took his part and was distressed by what happened to him, for he had come to me and had eaten bread with me. He wrote two letters to al-Anjab, which I took to him, but as a result of what happened there my shop was plundered, and I was left penniless. I have an old mother whom I have not been in the habit of visiting. I went to her for the first time in a year and tricked her, removing her things without her knowledge and selling them. I then paid in advance so that al-Ashraf would get bread, meat and vegetables; I gave the gaoler a dinar and I bought my passage downriver to come and tell you what has happened to your son.’

When ‘Alam al-Husn heard this, she slapped her face, drawing blood, until ‘Ubaid told her: ‘This does no good. Think of some plan to help him if you can.’ She said: ‘How can I talk to you, ‘Ubaid, when I am unveiled, and my whole body is exposed?’ ‘Ubaid then removed his shirt and his waist-wrapper and gave them to her to wear, after which he went to the market and bought a dress, trousers, a veil and boots. On his return he called to her and when she answered he told her to take them, which she did. When she had put them on she called on God to reward him and asked him to be kind enough to take her to Baghdad. He told her to get up and then went to the river bank, where he hired a passage upstream for them both.

When they had reached Baghdad he suggested going to his mother to conciliate her and tell her what had happened. ‘Alam al-Husn should come too so they could make some plan. When they had got to the
house ‘Ubaid told her to sit down behind the wall so that he could tell his mother and she could come out to her. ‘Go on,’ she told him and he went to his mother’s door, where she was sitting in tears and saying: ‘You have been away too long, ‘Ubaid! I don’t care that you took my things, but I want to see you.’ He knocked, and when she came out she fell on his chest and told him to come in. When he did she kissed him and said: ‘My son, you took everything that was in the house and left me with nothing.’ ‘Ubaid told her: ‘I only spent it as Almighty God required. Listen to me. A noble young man came to me but got into trouble with the vizier’ – and he told her the story from beginning to end, before adding: ‘His mother is at the door, so go and bring her to sit with you.’

‘Ubaid’s mother got up, but ‘Alam al-Husn had fainted because of her distress. ‘Ubaid came and took her, finding that she had opened three wounds on her head by slapping herself. When he expostulated with her, she told him to stop, quoting a line of poetry:

Pain is at its bitterest when the loved one is near.

She then told him to take her to see her son. He agreed and went with her to the prison, where he knocked on the door. The gaoler asked who was there and when ‘Ubaid said who he was the gaoler welcomed him and asked whether he had brought al-Ashraf’s mother. ‘I have,’ said ‘Ubaid, and the gaoler opened the door and took them to the dungeon, which he opened. When ‘Alam al-Husn smelled the foul smell, she shrieked: ‘My son!’ ‘Here I am, Mother,’ he replied, and she was about to throw herself down when the gaoler took hold of her. ‘What folly is this!’ he exclaimed. ‘If you do this you will die, and so will your son. Go out and get him freed quickly from the torment that he is suffering, for this will be best.’

She went out and said: ‘I don’t want to go to your mother’s house, ‘Ubaid.’ When he asked where she did want to go, she said: ‘Hire a shop and dig a sink hole in it for me. Then buy me a wash-tub and two water-pots and I shall become a washerwoman. Don’t say no.’ ‘Ubaid did what she said and bought her all that she wanted. She herself was brighter than the sun with a body like camphor, and when she rolled up her sleeves her arms were like pillars of crystal, causing all those who saw them to call on God and say: ‘Look at how this pimp ‘Ubaid has made his slave girl into a washerwoman.’ One would want his shirt washed by her and another his waist-wrapper, and they would use this
excuse to try to flirt with her, while she would keep her head down and carry on washing.

Opposite her shop lived one of the personal eunuchs of the caliph, named Yanis, and he had a servant as well as a slave girl whom he had taken to the slave-dealer. He had told his servant that he wanted his dirty clothes washed, but not by him as he was not good at it. The man said: ‘Master, you know ‘Ubaid the cook?’ ‘Yes,’ said Yanis, and the man went on: ‘He has the most beautiful slave girl in the world, who can wash better than anyone.’ ‘Go and fetch her,’ his master said, but the man said: ‘Perhaps ‘Ubaid won’t let her go.’ ‘Then break his head,’ said the eunuch.

The man went off and told ‘Ubaid that Yanis, his master, wanted his clothes washed. ‘Let your girl come and do this or else your head will be cut off.’ ‘Ubaid said: ‘Sir, we are all at the command of the great man.’ He then told ‘Alam al-Husn to come quickly, for Yanis was one of al-Rashid’s favourites. She got up and went with the servant to greet Yanis, and when he saw how beautiful she was he exclaimed: ‘God damn you, ‘Ubaid! Where did you get her from?’ Then he told her to take his clothes and wash them, these being ten shirts from Dabqu and
Damietta
.

Next he told the servant to get twenty slices of meat, as well as vegetables and ten chickens and cook them in various ways. He was also to provide fruit, strain the wine and clean the house. ‘Dear friends of mine are coming today,’ he explained, ‘so do the cooking well lest they make fun of you.’ ‘I shall,’ said the servant.

Meanwhile ‘Alam al-Husn had washed the clothes, folded them and pressed them flat like Coptic linen. The servant came back with the meat and the fruit, and he confessed that he was no good at cooking. She told him to leave what he had, and she then cooked the meat in various ways, together with the chickens, which she arranged on dishes with the rest of the food and the wine before cleaning the house and scenting it with incense until it was like Paradise. When Yanis came with his companions he noticed that this was not the usual scent and exclaimed with pleasure and when he went in there were the wine jars set out, together with scented flowers and fruits. The food was served, and when the guests ate they found a standard of cookery that was not to be equalled in the palace of al-Rashid. ‘Well done, by God!’ exclaimed Yanis to the servant; ‘I have never seen you do so well as today.’ ‘Do you suppose that I did all this, master?’ the man asked and when Yanis queried this he said that it
had been done by ‘Ubaid’s slave girl. ‘What?’ said Yanis. ‘Yes,’ the servant replied, at which Yanis told him to go off and fetch ‘Ubaid.

The man went to ‘Ubaid and told him to come to the great man, who was calling out for him. He went to greet Yanis, who asked him whether this was his slave girl. ‘She is a relative of mine,’ he replied and Yanis said: ‘Take six dinars to cover two months and leave her with me.’ ‘It is for you to command, sir,’ ‘Ubaid said, and the company continued to sit and drink. Yanis then said: ‘Ask her if she is good at playing the lute,’ and when ‘Ubaid did this and she had said that she was he ordered a smooth and polished lute to be given her. She took it and, clasping it to her breast, she played a selection of airs that left the company ecstatic with joy.

Yanis jumped up, took her hand and kissed it, saying: ‘Is there anyone in al-Rashid’s palace who can play as well as this? This is superb artistry and, by God, were you a slave girl, you would be worth a huge amount of money!’ He told his servant to give ‘Ubaid ten dinars on condition that he did not ask for her again. ‘Ubaid agreed to this and resigned his claims on her to Yanis. She stayed for a month with Yanis, who could scarcely believe his good fortune and handed over to her the house and all its contents.

One day, when it was his turn to wait on al-Rashid, he found that in front of him was a crystal cup, larger than a platter, made of red gold and worth a thousand dinars, in which were sweetmeats and two golden spoons. He and al-Fadl son of al-Rabi‘ were eating from it, and the eunuchs on duty were standing in front of al-Rashid as he ate. When he had finished, what was left over was to be removed by one of them. After he and al-Fadl had finished, he called to Yanis to take it away, but the eunuch in charge of the wine said: ‘Leave it!’ ‘What do you mean, “leave it”?’ al-Rashid said. ‘It is his turn.’ ‘Master,’ said the man, ‘I wasn’t talking about the food, but any dish that this man takes gets broken and is not returned.’ In spite of this al-Rashid told Yanis: ‘Take the cup and bring it back immediately after you have removed what is in it.’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ Yanis said.

He took it and brought it home, where he told ‘Alam al-Husn: ‘Lady, take this and remove the sweetmeats. I have fallen out with the other eunuch in front of al-Rashid and I said that I would bring it back straight away.’ He himself then went back and when al-Rashid looked up and saw him he asked: ‘Where is the cup?’ ‘I am just washing it,’ Yanis told him, but al-Rashid said: ‘I don’t want it washed. Go and get it at once.’

Yanis came home, where ‘Alam al-Husn had lifted up the cup and washed it, but when she did it slipped from her hand like quicksilver, fell to the ground and smashed into a hundred pieces. At the sight of this she slapped herself until blood came from her nostrils. ‘Let me die and rest from my misfortunes!’ she exclaimed, and at that moment in came Yanis. Her hand was on her cheek and she was shedding tears as she looked at the disaster. ‘Bring me the cup,’ said Yanis, ‘for our master al-Rashid is asking for it. I left it in a little bamboo basket.’ She told him: ‘Take it,’ and when he asked where it was she said: ‘In the basket.’ ‘How did you come to leave it in the basket?’ he asked, and she said: ‘I washed it, but it fell from my hands and broke.’ ‘Good God!’ he exclaimed, slapping himself and shedding tears. He went to al-Rashid and stood behind the curtain. ‘Who is it?’ asked al-Rashid, and he answered: ‘Master, it is Yanis the eunuch.’ ‘Come in,’ al-Rashid said, and Yanis told him: ‘Master, the cup is broken.’ He went in weeping, with mucus dripping from his nose. Al-Rashid laughed and said: ‘That is a wretchedly ugly face. How did this happen?’ Yanis told him: ‘It was thanks to a woman of mine.’ ‘Go and fetch her,’ said al-Rashid.

Yanis went off faster than lightning and when he got home he told ‘Alam al-Husn to come to face her punishment. She wrapped herself in a cloak and put on her
niqab
before leaving with Yanis, who took her to the palace and placed her behind the curtain. She told herself that she had never imagined that she would get there and that, God willing, relief might be at hand.

‘Where is the person who broke the cup?’ al-Rashid asked, and when Yanis said that she was behind the curtain, he told him to bring her in, which he did. When ‘Alam al-Husn saw al-Rashid, she kissed the ground with due respect, threw aside her cloak, unveiled and began to recite these lines:

Master, best of all the Hashimites,

Imam of this age of the world,

Listen to the strange story that I tell,

A source of wonder to the unjust and the just.

I am the wife of Muhammad al-Zainabi,

And your vizier al-Anjab was his slave,

Who was brought up at one stage with my son.

But then my son fell into poverty

And made his way here to ask for relief.

Instead he fell a victim to this evil man,

And poor al-Ashraf is in his prison,

Drowning in floods of tears and chained.

He is not fasting but receives no food.

His father on his death left him his wealth.

As for the cup, I broke it, not Yanis.

‘Who are you?’ al-Rashid asked. ‘I was the slave girl of your cousin Muhammad son of Sulaiman,’ she told him, and he told Masrur to go to the prison and remove his cousin al-Ashraf from the dungeon and bring him just as he was. Masrur left at once and reappeared before al-Rashid with the young al-Ashraf looking like a worn-out water-skin in his iron corselet with fetters on his feet. ‘May evil befall my father’s son if I don’t avenge him on this wicked slave!’ exclaimed al-Rashid. He told Masrur to raid the house of the black al-Anjab immediately, to beat him until he lost his senses and to bring him with a turban around his neck.