One Thousand and One Nights (28 page)

Read One Thousand and One Nights Online

Authors: Hanan al-Shaykh

BOOK: One Thousand and One Nights
12.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Yes, you may,” the Caliph replied.

“How grateful am I to God Almighty, and to you, and to the slave Rayhan that I am alive and able to talk once more,” she said, and she began her story.

Once there was a woman whose lover was unjustly imprisoned over a dispute with another man. The woman decided to help to get the man released. So she put on her finest clothes, and went to the Wali’s house. When the Wali came to the door, she handed him a letter which explained to him that her “brother” (for she could not tell the Wali that the man was her lover) was innocent, the witnesses against him liars, and that he had been wrongly imprisoned. The Wali read the letter carefully and looked at the woman.

“I beseech you to release him, for he is my only next of kin,” the woman said.

But the Wali was trying to think of a way to describe the colour of her lips, other than red wine or carnelian or red roses.

“Come into my house now and I will make sure that your brother will be released tomorrow,” he said, suddenly unable to control his feelings.

She pleaded with him again: “I have nobody to protect me other than God Almighty, and it is not suitable or right for me to enter the house of a man.”

“Well, don’t expect me to release your brother unless I have had my way with you.”

“I understand very well what you want from me,” the woman said. “So come to my house tomorrow and stay with me for the whole day.”

She gave him her address and they agreed on a time. Then she left him and went to the Qadi’s house.

When the Qadi came to the door, the woman looked at him beseechingly, and said, “My lord, I beg you to help me.”

The Qadi fell in love with her beauty right there on the spot.

“Tell me who has wronged you.”

“My brother was wrongly imprisoned, after the Wali was given false evidence against him. I am sure, my lord, that you could use your influence to persuade the Wali to release him.”

The Qadi, impressed by her elegance and by the eloquent manner in which she spoke, smiled broadly.

“I see that you are indeed desperate for my help, just as I am in great need for you to rest with me in my room. Afterwards, I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“But you’re the judge!” the woman exclaimed. “If you behave like this, how can you punish others for taking advantage of the helpless?”

“Then find another way to free your brother from prison,” was the Qadi’s answer.

The woman quickly changed her tone, saying sweetly, “Don’t you think, my lord, that if you come to my home it would be
less conspicuous? Your house is full of slaves and concubines. Of course, I am no expert in such matters, but necessity creates its own rules.”

He asked where she lived, and agreed to visit her the next day. She left, cursing him silently, and decided to go to the Vizier. She explained to him the purpose of her visit and the tale of her helpless brother, and as she did so, she shed a few tears, in the hope that the Vizier would pity her and behave gracefully, unlike the previous two. But to her mortification, the Vizier tried to embrace and kiss her.

She pushed him away, and he said, “If you let me have my way with you, I’ll guarantee the release of your brother.”

The woman said, with ultimate coyness, “Then come to me tomorrow, because I’ve been on the move most of the day and I am exhausted. And besides, I must first take a bath and burn incense …”

The Vizier enquired where she lived, and then tried to snatch a kiss before she left him. The woman now hurried to the King himself, and begged him to help her to free her brother.

“I seek help from the Almighty Creator and from you, Your Majesty,” she said.

The King took a liking to her, and indicated that she should go to the third room from the left and wait for him there, saying, “Be assured that the Wali will release your brother when you have finished your business.”

“But of course, Your Majesty, whatever the King decides to do with me, and whatever he wants of me could only be my good fortune, but would you honour me and condescend to me by coming to me tomorrow instead? How could I believe my luck, were I to be visited by the King himself?”

“With pleasure,” the King answered, and the woman described where her house was, and agreed on a time.

Then she hurried to the carpenter, not quite believing that she had actually conversed with the King himself.

She greeted the carpenter, telling him, “I would like you to make me a large cupboard with four compartments, one on top of the other. Each compartment must have a door which locks. Could you tell me how much the whole thing will cost?”

“Each deck will cost you one dinar, so four dinars in all, but if you let me sleep with you, my respected and chaste lady, then I will charge you nothing,” was the carpenter’s reply.

“Is that so? Then make me a cupboard with five compartments,” said the woman.

She went to leave, but the carpenter stopped her, saying, “Why don’t you sit and wait? Then you can take it with you and I’ll visit you tomorrow at my leisure.”

So the woman sat down and waited while he made the cupboard, and then carried it home on a mule. Once she was home, she placed it in the main sitting room, and tapped it, saying, “Welcome, welcome to my house, my friend!”

Then she hurried to the market and bought four sets of men’s gowns—yellow, red, blue and purple—scented candles, food and wine, fruit and sweets.

The next day she woke very early, cleaned the house, spread out carpets and laid more cushions on the couch, washed and perfumed herself from head to toe, dressed in beautiful clothes, lit the candles, spread out the wine and the food and sat waiting.

The Qadi arrived exactly at the agreed time. She welcomed him by kissing the ground before him, and then stretched herself on the couch, saying, “Here I am, my Qadi!”

The man jumped on to the couch, and fondled and kissed her. When he wanted to make love to her, she said, “Why don’t you remove your clothes and your turban first and put on this
yellow gown, which I made myself for the man who is worthy of it? Look, it even has a hood. Put it on and then come to me. I am all yours!”

The Qadi raced to change his clothes, while the woman pretended to cover her eyes. When he had put on the gown, she got up and took away his clothes. As she stretched out on the couch next to him, they heard a knock at the door.

The woman jumped up, saying, “Oh! It must be my husband!”

“What shall I do, where shall I hide?” said the Qadi nervously.

“Don’t you worry, my Qadi, I’ll hide you in that cupboard,” she said, and she put him in the bottom compartment and locked its door.

Then she opened her front door, and there was the Wali.

She smiled at him, bowed and said, “Feel at home, my master. I am here to serve you. How delighted am I that you will stay most of the day with me. But first, please take off your clothes and put on this red gown with a special hood, which I brought from China, while I light more candles.”

She turned away and lit the candles while he changed, then she faced him again, saying, “Oh! This colour suits you so well! Now, why don’t you lie down comfortably on the couch and wait for me.”

She went and put away his clothes, then joined him on the couch, and began kissing him and fondling him. When he was greatly aroused, she pulled away.

“I shall be yours the whole day, my master, but first I beg you in your infinite kindness to write a note ordering the release of my brother from prison, so that my mind is at rest.”

The Wali wrote the note, sealed it and gave it to her, in a great flurry of activity. She thanked him, and began to caress him again, when they heard a sudden knock at the door.

“Who could that be knocking at your door?” the Wali asked.

The woman leapt up in alarm. “Who else other than my husband?”

The Wali became agitated and whispered, “What is to be done?”

The woman led him quickly to the cupboard. “Climb in here until I get rid of him,” she murmured.

She put the Wali into the second compartment and locked it, then opened her door to the Vizier.

Once again, she welcomed him by kissing the ground before him, saying, “You honour my house with your visit.”

She sat on the couch and he came and sat next to her, and she said in a soft voice, “Why don’t you change your clothes into this comfortable gown?” And she handed him the blue gown, with a matching hood.

The Vizier quickly did as she asked.

“Now, try now to forget your duties and your office, my Vizier, and be my lover,” said the woman, and she laid herself seductively across the couch.

The Vizier caressed her, and she caressed him, but when he tried finally to sleep with her, she whispered, “Why the hurry! We have all the time in the world on our hands.”

No sooner had she uttered these words than there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it knocking?” the Vizier asked.

“It must be my husband,” said the woman yet again. “Don’t be afraid. Quickly, hide in this cupboard while I send him away. Then we can return to our couch!”

She locked him in the third compartment, and raced to open her door to the King. Seeing him before her she bowed, kissed the ground at his feet and then led him by the hand to the same couch. She made sure that he was sitting comfortably.

“You must know, Your Majesty, that if I were to give you the moon and its stars, the sun and the entire world, it could not equal what you have given me by taking one single step inside my humble house. May I ask your permission to say one further thing?”

The King, delighted to the point of distraction by the woman’s beauty, replied, “You may say whatever you want.”

“Your Majesty’s grand and precious clothes and turban must sit heavily. Why don’t you attire yourself in something light and comfortable? Then we shall be able to ensure that nothing will come between us.”

The King was now terribly aroused. He tore off his clothes and his turban, which were worth thousands of dinars, and slipped on the cheap purple gown, whereupon the woman began to touch him all over his body. But when the King went to take her, she stopped him, saying, “I promise that if you can be patient, you shall be more than delighted with the surprise I have for you.”

She began to unbutton the many tiny buttons on her robe, one by one, when there was a knock on the door.

“Who do you think is at your door?” said the King.

“My husband,” said the woman.

“Have him disappear, or I shall force him to do so,” the King commanded.

“But Your Majesty, since you are King of all you survey, you should not degrade yourself by dealing with my husband! Allow me to handle this situation in my own way. Perhaps while I do so you might wait in this cupboard? It will be for less than one minute.”

And she smiled at him broadly as she led him by the hand and locked him in the fourth compartment. This time the visitor was none other than the carpenter, who knocked incessantly at the door until she threw it open.

“I am not happy at all with the cupboard you’ve made me!” she hissed.

“What is the problem with it?” asked the carpenter, worried that the woman would not sleep with him if she was angry.

“The compartments are too narrow.”

“Narrow?” he exclaimed. “But I am sure that I made them big enough.”

“Climb in then and see for yourself if you don’t believe me,” said the woman.

The moment the carpenter entered the fifth compartment, the woman locked him in and fled her home, taking her most valuable possessions. She rushed to the prison immediately. When she presented the Wali’s note to the official, her lover was released and they left the city at once, making for foreign lands.

As for the woman’s five would-be lovers, they each kept very quiet, worried that they would be discovered, identified and disgraced. Finally, after three days had passed and the five men’s bladders had nearly exploded, the carpenter could hold on no longer, and urinated over the King’s head. Almost immediately the King urinated over the Vizier’s head and the Vizier over the Wali’s head, and the Wali over the Qadi’s head.

“Why am I drenched in foul mule urine?” shrieked the Qadi.

The Wali recognised the Qadi’s voice at once. “Well, you’d better ask yourself the bigger question, Qadi, for aren’t we both in a very bad situation, even without being drenched in urine?”

The Vizier recognised the angry voices of the Qadi and the Wali. He raised his voice, shouting, “May God reward both of you for your actions!”

“And you too, Vizier,” said the Qadi.

“That wicked, vile woman tricked and imprisoned all the officers of the state apart from the King,” said the Vizier, in great rage.

The King, who had until now remained silent, said, “Hush, hush, gentlemen. Your King was the first to fall into the trap of that goddamned harlot!”

Hearing this, the three men cleared their throats. “At least, Your Majesty, no commoner knows about this.”

But a fifth voice piped up. “I am afraid to tell you that I am the carpenter who was asked to make the cupboard you’re trapped in for four dinars. When I came to collect payment the woman tricked me and locked me in.”

“Carpenter, go ahead and release us,” said the King.

“It is impossible for me to do so, Your Majesty. I used the most secure and impenetrable locks.”

The five men tried in vain to force open the locks, shaking and rattling and banging their compartments without success.

The next day, the woman’s neighbours, who had become suspicious when she had failed to appear for three days, forced the door of the house open and heard all the commotion and moaning coming from the cupboard.

Unable to decide what was happening, they stood about arguing about what they should do, covering their noses against the foul smell.

Finally the Qadi raised his voice. “Listen to me all of you, I am the Qadi. I want you to fetch a carpenter to unlock our compartments.”

“But who locked you in, Oh most respected, gracious Qadi?”

“Is this Zein al-Deen?” asked the Qadi.

“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.”

Other books

R. A. Scotti by Basilica: The Splendor, the Scandal: Building St. Peter's
The Surrogate, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book one by Foglia, Leonard, Richards, David
Darshan by Chima, Amrit
Rainlashed by Leda Swann
La balada de los miserables by Aníbal Malvar
Quest for Honour by Sam Barone
Cine o sardina by Guillermo Cabrera Infante