One Thousand and One Nights (30 page)

“What a beauty!” he breathed heavily and went to wake her up.

As he lowered his head to kiss her, Dahnash whispered to Maimuna, “Though I’m thrilled that he burns for my princess, your youth is a thug with no scruples. If you will allow it, I shall stop him from kissing her.”

But Maimuna hushed the jinni, furious that she was going to lose the bet. Then Qamar al-Zaman changed his mind, and turned his head away from Budur. Maimuna burned with pride as Qamar al-Zaman pulled down Budur’s shirt, pulled up her drawers and shook her gently.

“Wake up, my darling. Stop playing games with me. I know full well that my father, the King, had you climb into my bed and sleep, so I would fall in love and worship you, and wed you and have children. I have resisted the idea of marriage for three years, so let us not dally: get up, my sweet and precious beauty. Let us marry as soon as day breaks, if I can bear to wait.” He went again to kiss her, but then withdrew, saying to himself, “Be patient,
Qamar al-Zaman. God forgive me for what I was intending to do.”

He stroked the girl’s long, dark hair. “Did my father ask you to pretend to sleep, so you could report to him what I had done to you? I bet he’s testing me! Perhaps he is hiding somewhere and observing my every move, so that he might delight in winning the battle, after I insulted him before his men and council. Well, now I am head over heels in love with you.”

He touched her face with his hand, and when she still didn’t open her eyes, he said, “I love your strength of will as much as I love your beauty.”

He brought her hand to his cheek and saw a ring on her finger, which he took off and examined carefully.

“A seal ring? Who are you, my princess? I shall take it as a keepsake to remember you by, a token of our love.”

He put the ring on his little finger and closed his eyes, murmuring, “Better to sleep, then I shall not waiver in the face of temptation and desire.”

Maimuna clapped her hands joyfully.

“Did you see how the great honour of my prince goes hand in hand with his beauty?”

“Yes, I saw,” Dahnash replied.

“Now it is my turn to become a flea and wake your princess.”

Maimuna flew into Budur’s clothes and bit her on her thigh and navel. The girl opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Seeing the young man sleeping next to her, breathing heavily, she gasped.

“Who are you, the most gracious of God’s creations? Who brought you to me?
Houris
would hesitate to think their eyes so splendid and extraordinary if they saw how white the whites of your eyes, how black their darkness. I can’t believe how my heart is throbbing with love for you, when I have shied away from men
and marriage! If the prince of the King of Kings who sought my hand again and again was you, I would have agreed at once!”

Qamar al-Zaman remained asleep. Budur shook him gently, saying, “Open your eyes, my master and light of my eyes, for you might like what you see.”

But Maimuna had put him in a deep slumber and Budur’s efforts were in vain. “Wake up and embrace the narcissus, and play with me until the break of day, till midday and evening. Get up, my knight, taste my fruit which ripened, ready, as soon as I set eyes on you,” she pleaded.

But Qamar al-Zaman remained motionless. “I can’t believe that you’re actually asleep,” Budur said. “Could it be that your charm and beauty has filled you with enormous pride and vanity? Or are you carrying out the wishes of my father, playing hard to get in order to teach me to listen to him and obey him? But aren’t you happy that I resisted the charms of others and waited for you? Now here I am, please take me into your arms!”

When he still didn’t stir, Budur embraced him, spotted her ring and cheered, planting a loud kiss on every finger.

“I’m in ecstasy, or perhaps I’m not,” she said, “to realise that you came to me while I was fast asleep. Worried that I would refuse you, you decided not to wake me, but asked for my hand silently. Be assured, I accept you as my husband.” She kissed him on the lips, took his own ring and put it on her finger.

Then she lifted the covers and ran her hand over his chest, saying, “Your chest is my home now, and your chest hair the trees which shade me.” Then she moved her hand to his waist, his upper thighs and when she reached his you-know-what …

Abu Nuwas broke off from the story and lowered his voice as if revealing a secret. “As some of you know, a woman’s lust is
stronger than that of a man. Poor souls! When they become horny they’ll seek to satisfy themselves in any way, with anybody, with anything.”

Abu Nuwas giggled. “But let me take you back to lusty Budur,” he said.

When her hand reached his you-know-what, Budur began to tremble. She felt ashamed and stopped touching Qamar al-Zaman, then she too fell asleep, holding him in her arms.

Maimuna cried out with happiness. “Oh how I love victory! Did you see what your princess has done to my prince? Are you now willing to admit he is more beautiful and graceful?”

“Yes, yes,” Dahnash mumbled.

But Maimuna said, “I can’t hear you! Sorry, what did you just whisper?”

“Yes, yes, you’ve won, OK?” Dahnash told her.

“Then hurry up and return the defeated princess to her country, because I’m so elated by my victory I can’t fly, I must dance instead!”

So Dahnash carried the sleeping princess back to China and Maimuna spent the rest of the night dancing wildly, and singing to herself, “Yes, yes I won the bet, I won and I always come out on top.”

When Qamar al-Zaman woke in the morning, turned to his right and then to his left and couldn’t see the girl, he jumped up from the bed, banging at the door like a madman.

When the guard opened up, he asked, “Who came in here and took the girl away?”

“A girl? What girl are you talking about, my master? I can assure you that nobody entered your room last night, not even a fly.”

Qamar al-Zaman shouted out in fury: “I’m going to ask you once more about the girl who slept next to me in my bed. Tell me where she has gone!”

“I never left your door, my master. I lean on your door when I doze during the night, in case you wake and want something.”

“Confess that you sneaked her in and then away again, on the orders of my father, the King,” Qamar al-Zaman shouted, in great agitation.

The guard repeated that no one had entered the room, and Qamar al-Zaman lost his mind completely and began to punch and kick the guard. Terrified that he’d lost the girl for ever, he dragged the guard over to the decrepit well, tied him to the well-rope and lowered him to the water, dipping him in repeatedly and demanding that the man confess. The guard shrieked in terror, calling for help. Eventually he cried out, “Yes, yes, master, I will tell you the truth.”

The prince lifted him out, shivering and dripping, teeth clenched, unable to speak. He asked if he could go and change his clothes before he told Qamar al-Zaman the whole story.

“If I hadn’t threatened you with death, you’d still be lying to me,” Qamar al-Zaman said, kicking the guard and cursing him.

The poor guard hurried to the palace, not quite believing he’d managed to escape. Standing in the presence of the King he said, “Your Majesty, Prince Qamar al-Zaman has lost his mind completely.”

The guard appeared to have lost his wits. He was sobbing, with his hair stuck to his head, and his face black and blue from the beating.

“Look what he’s done to me, Your Majesty,” he continued. “He woke up this morning asking about a girl and claiming that he’d found her in his bed that night, and that she vanished in the morning, and then he attacked me and nearly killed me. He
demanded that I tell him who had sneaked her out, and no matter how many times I assured him that no one came in or out of the locked room, all my efforts to convince him scattered in the wind.”

When the King heard what the guard said, he hurried to his son, followed by his Vizier and the guard. He entered Qamar al-Zaman’s room and his son, who was reciting the Qur’an, stood at once, bowed his head and placed his arms behind his back in an expression of humility and respect.

“I have sinned against you, my father,” he wept, “and now here I am before you, repenting and seeking your forgiveness.”

The King embraced his son, kissed him on both cheeks. Taking his hands, he sat with him on the couch and asked, “Son, what day is it today?”

“Today is Thursday and tomorrow is Friday and after tomorrow is Saturday.” Qamar al-Zaman went on and counted the seven days of the week and the twelve months of the year.

The King spat at the guard. “How dare you, dog, accuse my son of madness? No one here is insane except you!”

Then the King turned back to his son. “Tell me, did you really ask the guard about a girl who shared your bed yesterday evening and then disappeared?”

Qamar al-Zaman laughed. “Father, let us not dwell on this any more. Yes, you were right to ask that I marry and provide you with a grandson. I was arrogant and stubborn to refuse, and now I am willing to marry the girl who shared my bed until dawn broke. I am certain that you sent her to me, so that I would desire her and change my mind.”

The King shook his head. “I swear by Almighty God that I have no idea about this girl you’re obsessed with. Listen to me, son. Could it be that being here on your own, banished, made you hallucinate, or could it be that you ate a heavy meal, whose
ingredients confused you and made you dream dreams which you took to be real? God cursed marriage, and who shall force it upon you! Oh, how eaten by guilt am I for what I have done! Come on, my son; let us go back to the palace and turn over this black, ill-omened page.”

Qamar al-Zaman bottled up his fury and tried to remain calm.

“May I ask you a question, father?”

“Go on, son, ask me one hundred questions.”

“Have you heard of any soldier who dreamed that he fought in a furious battle and, when he awoke, found a sword in his hand dripping with blood?”

“No by God, my son, this has never happened,” the King answered quickly.

“Then I shall tell you what came to pass last night. I woke to find a girl as pretty as a rose fast asleep next to me. I embraced her, and slipped her ring from her finger and put it on my own. I won’t conceal from you the fact that I nearly kissed her on her lips, but drew back, not because of my virtue and good breeding, but out of shame, as I assumed that you were hiding somewhere, watching what I would do to her. And then I awoke this morning and she was gone. So I questioned the guard, and my frustration grew as he denied everything.”

He took the girl’s ring from his little finger and showed it to his father, who studied it carefully before he spoke.

“I believe every word you’ve said, my son. Your story is strange, and you must believe me when I say that I do not know the girl; nor where she went. All I want is for you to be patient. I am so thrilled that your mind is sound and your logic is more acute than ever.”

“Please, father, help me look for the girl, the owner of this ring, or death will carry me away. I am devastated and filled with great grief and turmoil.”

He wept and moaned, moaned and wept, and when his father asked him to return with him to the palace, Qamar al-Zaman refused.

“I should remain here, in case the girl comes back tonight.”

His father left, but not before he had assured his son that he would help him find the girl.

That night, Qamar al-Zaman waited in vain for the girl to appear, refusing to eat or drink. In the stillness of the night, he cried out from his window:

These agonised words of Qamar al-Zaman reached Maimuna, who had been down in the well when Qamar al-Zaman had lowered the guard into the water. She had been unable to leave the well and help her prince until darkness fell. Now, she set out and hunted for Dahnash, to no avail, finally sending one hundred jinni fairies to find him, without success. Then, to her great distress, Qamar al-Zaman’s cries reached her again:

Maimuna was sure that Dahnash must be in China visiting his Princess Budur, so she set out after him, flying higher and higher so she would arrive in China at great speed. But when she reached
the princess, she found to her horror that the once beautiful girl was now dishevelled, with veins bulging on her face and neck. She stood, screaming and yelling, her sword drawn as she threatened the slaves, eunuchs and ministers of her father’s court.

“Where is my man? My beautiful knight, who slept in my arms last night until dawn?”

“We have all advised you, Princess Budur, not to engage in such filthy talk. For the tenth time, I tell you that there was no man in your room!” her duenna told her.

But the princess continued to wail. “Where is the young man with black eyes like a gazelle, whose body was so lean and warm in my bed last night?”

“Stop this nonsense before your father hears you; he’ll be livid and go on the rampage,” the duenna told her. “Please, stop playing this dangerous game!”

But Budur continued to weep and tremble with emotion. “Bring me the young man whose lips were like honey, for I can still taste the sweetness in my mouth,” she yelled.

“You’ve gone mad, my beloved princess, I think that an evil spirit has invaded and corrupted you with a great desire to fornicate!”

Budur rushed at the duenna with her sword in hand, but then she noticed Qamar al-Zaman’s ring around her finger. “Can you tell me who this ring belongs to?” she shrieked.

She struck the duenna with her sword, killing her. Everyone screamed in horror, fearing for their lives. The entire court fled to King Ghayyur to tell him his daughter had lost her wits. The King hurried to his daughter.

Upon seeing her father, Budur asked, “Dear father, what have you done with the young man you sent to me? He slept in my arms all night long and his breath was like a summer breeze
on my neck. You sent him so he might change my mind about marriage! Well, here I am, father, fit and of sound mind and ready to marry him.”