The Arabian Nights II (41 page)

When Hayat al-Nufus heard the story, she was extremely surprised. She felt pity for Princess Budur, prayed to God to reunite her with her beloved Qamar al-Zaman, and said to her, “O sister, fear nothing, and be patient until God accomplishes what must be.” Then she recited the following verses,

Only the faithful does a secret keep;

None but the best can hold it unrevealed.

I keep a secret in a well-shut house,

Of which the key is lost and the lock sealed.

Then she said, “O sister, the breast of the brave is the secret's grave. I will not divulge your secret.” Then they prayed and, embracing, slept till near the call of the morning prayer, when Hayat al-Nufus got up and, taking a chicken, slaughtered it and smeared herself with its blood. Then she took off her pants, and cried out. The women of her
family went in to her, and her waiting women let out trilling cries of joy. Soon her mother came to see her, asking her how she did, and she stayed with her till evening. Meanwhile, Princess Budur went to the bath and washed herself, and after performing her morning prayer, went to the audience hall and sat on the throne, governing her subjects. When King Armanus heard the trilling cries of joy, he asked about the cause, and when he was told that his daughter's marriage had been consummated, he rejoiced and felt relieved and made a great banquet.

To return to King Shahraman, after his son departed with Marzawan on his excursion to hunt and trap, he waited for him, and when night fell and he did not return, he was perplexed and could not sleep. He was extremely worried and anxious to see his son, and scarcely had the day dawned when he rose. He waited for his son till noon, and when Qamar al-Zaman did not come, he felt the pang of separation and ached with pity for his son and wept until his clothes were wet with tears and recited in agony the following verses,

I disagreed with those who worship love

Until I tasted its bitter and sweet

And swallowed its bitter cup to the dregs,

Humbling myself to bondsman and elite.

Time made a vow to separate us two,

A vow he has fulfilled and made it true.

Then he wiped off his tears and ordered all his troops to march on a long journey. They mounted and departed with the king, who rode out with a heart full of fire and grief for his son. He divided his troops into six groups, on the right and left and in front and behind, and said to them, “Tomorrow, we shall meet at the crossroads.” The groups separated, each heading in a different direction, and rode all that day and night until, at noon of the following day, they met at the crossroads. Here four roads met, and they did not know which road Qamar al-Zaman had taken until they saw the torn clothes, the mangled flesh, and the traces of blood scattered everywhere. When King Shahraman saw this, he uttered a great cry from the depths of his heart, exclaiming, “O my son!” and he beat his face, plucked his beard, and tore his clothes, feeling convinced that his son was dead. He wept and wailed, and his troops wept with him, all of them being certain that Qamar al-Zaman had perished. They threw dust on their heads and wept and wailed until it was dark and they were exhausted. The king sighed in anguish and recited the following verses, with an aching heart and with anguished sighs,

Blame not the mourner in his sorry state,

For longing is torment enough and fire.

He weeps in anguish and unequaled pain,

And his yearning reveals his inner pyre.

Alas for one who loves, whose grief has sworn

never to let his eyes be without tears,

A lover who has lost a brilliant moon,

Who used to shine high above all his peers.

He was offered the brimming cup of death,

When he left home, on his departure day.

He left his land and journeyed to his death,

Before he could to his own brothers farewell say.

I am now stricken with the sense of loss,

Longing, and loneliness, love's painful price.

He left us suddenly and went away,

When God welcomed him to His Paradise.

King Shahraman returned with the troops to his capital, feeling certain that his son had perished and thinking that he had either been murdered by a highwayman or devoured by a wild beast. He proclaimed that all the people in the Khalidan Islands should wear black, in mourning for his son, Qamar al-Zaman, and built a monument he called the House of Sorrows where, except for Monday and Thursday, when he governed his subjects and troops, he spent the whole week mourning for his son and lamenting with verses, like the following,

The day I have you is the day I crave;

The day you leave me is the day I die.

Were I to live in fear of promised death,

I'd rather be with you than my life save.

Or,

My life is ransom for the absent one

Who left my heart the torment and the blight.

Let gladness then await its lawful time,

For I have divorced all joy and delight.

Meanwhile, Princess Budur remained as king in the Ebony Islands, and the people would point to her and say, “There is the son-in-law of King Armanus.” She spent every night with Hayat al-Nufus, expressing to her her longing for her husband Qamar al-Zaman and describing to her his beauty and grace. As for Qamar al-Zaman himself, he continued to live with the gardener in the orchard, weeping day and night and reciting verses, lamenting the lost happy days, while the gardener kept consoling him, saying, “By the end of the year, the ship will sail to the land of the Muslims.”

One day, he saw people assembling together and wondered at this,
and the gardener came to him and said, “Son, stop working today, and don't water the trees, for today is a feast day, on which people visit each other. Rest and keep an eye on the orchard, for I wish to find the ship for you, in order to send you to the land of the Muslims, since there is only a little time left.” Then the gardener left the orchard, while Qamar al-Zaman remained alone, feeling depressed and weeping, and he wept until he fell into a swoon. When he came to himself, he got up and wandered in the orchard, reflecting upon what fate had done to him and on his long separation from his wife. In his distraction, he stumbled and fell on his face, hitting his forehead against the root of a tree, and his blood flowed and mingled with his tears. He wiped away the blood, dried up his tears and, having bandaged his forehead with a rag, resumed his aimless wandering in the orchard.

He turned up his eyes toward a tree and saw two birds fighting. One of them overcame the other and pecked at its neck until it separated the head from the body. Then it flew away with the head, while the other bird fell dead on the ground in front of Qamar al-Zaman. Soon two big birds swooped down, and one stood at the neck of the dead bird and the other at its tail and, folding their wings, stretched their necks toward it and wept. When Qamar al-Zaman saw the birds weeping for their companion, he wept at his separation from his wife. Then they dug a hole, in which they buried the dead bird, and flew up in the sky. After a while, they returned, bringing with them the bird that had killed the other. They alighted with it on the grave of the slaughtered bird and, crouching on it, killed it. Then they cut open its belly, tore out its entrails, and spilled its blood on the grave of the slaughtered bird. Then they strewed its flesh, tore its skin, and, pulling out all the innards, scattered them in different places. All this happened while Qamar al-Zaman watched in amazement. Then he happened to cast a glance at the spot where the two big birds had killed the other and saw something shining. He approached it and saw that it was the bird's craw. He took it and opened it and found in it the jewel that was the cause of his separation from his wife. When he saw it and recognized it, he was so overcome with joy that he fell into a swoon, and when he recovered, he said to himself, “This is a good sign and an omen of my reunion with my beloved.” He then examined it and passed it over his eyes and tied it to his arm, anticipating something good to happen. He walked in the orchard, waiting for the gardener to return, until it was night, and when he failed to return, Qamar al-Zaman slept in his usual place.

In the morning, he arose and, girding his waist with a fiber rope, took a hoe and basket and went out to do his work in the orchard. Soon he came to a carob tree and struck its roots with the hoe. The
blow resounded, removing the earth and uncovering a trapdoor. He raised it and found an opening, into which he descended and found a large, ancient hall from the time of Thamud and 'Ad, and in it he found twenty jars full of red gold. He said to himself, “Toil has departed, and joy and happiness have returned.” Then he climbed out to the orchard and, replacing the trapdoor, resumed his task of conducting water to the trees.

He continued to work till the end of the day, when the gardener returned and said, “Son, I have good news about your return to your country, for the merchants have prepared themselves for the journey, and in three days' time, the ship will sail to the City of Ebony, which is the first of the Muslim cities. After you reach it, you will travel by land for six months until you reach the Khalidan Islands and King Shahraman.” Qamar al-Zaman was glad to hear this, and he kissed his hand and said, “Father, just as you have given me good news, I too have good news for you,” and he told him about the hall. The gardener too was glad and said, “Son, I have been in this orchard for eighty years, without finding anything, while you have been with me here less than a year and have found this. It is God's gift to you to reverse your ill fortune and help you return to your family and join the one you love.” Qamar al-Zaman replied, “No, you must share it with me.” Then he took the gardener to the hall and, showing him the twenty jars of god, took ten and gave him ten.

The gardener said to him, “Son, fill for yourself large jars with the large olives in this garden, for they are not to be found anywhere except in our country, and the merchants export them to all parts. Put the gold in the jars and cover it with the olives; then close them and take them to the ship.” Qamar al-Zaman proceeded immediately and filled fifty large jars, placing the olives over the gold and hiding the jewel in one of them. Then he closed them and sat to chat with the gardener. He felt certain of his speedy reunion with his family and said to himself, “When I reach the Ebony Islands, I will journey from there to my father's country and inquire about my beloved Budur. I wonder whether she has returned to her home or went to my father's country, or whether something has happened to her on the way.”

Qamar al-Zaman then sat, waiting for the days to pass, and he related the story of the birds to the gardener, who marveled at it. Then they went to sleep, but when they awoke in the morning, the gardener felt ill and remained so for two days, and on the third day, he became so ill that they despaired of his life. Qamar al-Zaman grieved for him, and while he was in this state, the captain and the sailors came and inquired about the gardener, and he told them about the gardener's illness. Then they asked him, “Where is the young man who wishes to sail with us to the Ebony Islands?” Qamar al-Zaman replied, “He is
the servant before you.” Then he asked them to carry the jars to the ship, and they did so, saying to him, “Hurry up, for the wind is favorable.” He said, “I hear and obey.” He then carried his provisions to the ship and returned to bid the gardener farewell, but he found him in the agonies of death. Qamar al-Zaman sat at his head until he died. Then he closed the gardener's eyes, prepared his body, and buried him. Then he went to the ship but found that it had spread its sails and departed, and it continued to cleave the waves until it disappeared from his sight. He was confounded and perplexed and returned to the orchard, feeling so sad and depressed that he threw dust on his head. A little later, he leased the orchard from its owner and hired a man to assist him in watering the trees. Then he went to the trapdoor and, descending to the hall, filled fifty large jars with the rest of the gold and placed the olives over it. Then he went and inquired about a ship, and when he was told that it sailed only once a year, his anxiety and regret for what had happened increased, especially for the loss of the jewel that belonged to Princess Budur. And he kept weeping and reciting poetry day and night.

Meanwhile, the ship sailed with a fair wind until it reached the Ebony Islands. It so happened, as had been foreordained, that Princess Budur was sitting at the window, and when she saw the ship cast anchor by the shore, her heart throbbed. She rode down to the port with the princes and the chamberlains and stopped by the ship, as the sailors were carrying the goods to the storehouses. She summoned the captain and asked him what he had with him, and he replied, “O King, I have with me in this ship drugs and powders and cosmetics and ointments and plasters and rich fabrics and other precious merchandise and wealth, more than can be carried by horses or camels. Among the goods are different kinds of perfumes and spices, as well as aloeswood, tamarind, and choice olives, the like of which is not found here.” When she heard this, she felt a desire for olives and asked the captain, “How much olives do you have?” He replied, “I have fifty jars full. Their owner is not with us, but the king may take whatever he wishes.” She said, “Bring them ashore, so that I may look at them.” He called to the sailors, who brought out the jars, and she opened one and, looking at the olives, said to the captain, “I will take all fifty jars and pay you their price, whatever it may be.” The captain said, “These olives have no value in our country, but their owner tarried behind, and he is a poor man.” She asked, “What is their price?” He replied, “A thousand dirhams.” She said, “I will take them for a thousand dirhams.”

Then she gave orders to carry the jars to the palace, and when night came, she asked for one of the jars. There was no one in the room but herself and Hayat al-Nufus. She opened the jar and, placing a dish
before her, poured some olives in it, and there fell into the dish a heap of red gold. She exclaimed to Hayat al-Nufus, “This is nothing but gold!” Then she examined all the jars and found that they were all full of gold and that all the olives altogether would not fill even one jar. She searched among the gold and found the jewel. She took it and examined it and found that it was the jewel that was attached to the ribbon of her pants which Qamar al-Zaman had taken. As soon as she recognized it, she screamed with joy and fell down in a swoon. When she recovered, she said to herself, “This jewel was the cause of my separation from my beloved Qamar al-Zaman, but now it is an omen of good fortune,” and she told Hayat al-Nufus that its recovery was an omen of their reunion.