The Fisherman and the ‘Ifrit

I have heard, O fortunate king, that there once was a poor, elderly fisherman with a wife and three children, who was in the habit of casting his net exactly four times each day. He went out to the shore at noon one day, put down his basket, tucked up his shirt, waded into the sea and cast his net. He waited until it had sunk down before pulling its cords together and then, finding it heavy, he tried unsuccessfully to drag it in. He took one end of it to the shore and fixed it to a peg that he drove in there, after which he stripped and dived into the sea beside it, where he continued tugging until he managed to get it up. He climbed out delightedly, put his clothes back on and went up to the net, only to find that what was in it was a dead donkey, and that the donkey had made a hole in the net. The fisherman was saddened by this and recited the formula: ‘There is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent,’ before saying: ‘This is a strange thing that God has given me by way of food!’ and then reciting:

You who court danger, diving in the dark of night,
Give up; your efforts do not win your daily bread from God.
The fisherman rises to earn his keep;
There is the sea, with stars woven in the sky.
He plunges in, buffeted by waves,
His eyes fixed on his billowing net.
Happy with his night’s work, he takes back home
A fish, its jaw caught up on his pronged hook.
This fish is bought from him by one who spent his night
Out of the cold, enjoying his comforts.
Praise be to God, Who gives and Who deprives;
For one man eats the fish; another catches it.

He encouraged himself, saying that Almighty God would show favour and reciting:

When you are faced with hardship, clothe yourself
In noble patience; that is more resolute.
Do not complain, then, to God’s servants; you complain
To those who have no mercy of the Merciful.

He freed the donkey from the net, which he then wrung out before spreading it out again and going back into the sea. Invoking the Name of God, he made another cast, waited until the net had settled, and found it heavier and more difficult to move than before. Thinking that it must be full of fish, he fastened it to his peg, stripped off his clothes and dived in to free it. After tugging at it he got it up on shore, only to discover that what was in it was a large jar full of sand and mud. Saddened by this sight, he recited:

Troubles of Time, give up!
Stop, even if you have not had enough.
I came out looking for my daily bread,
But I have found there is no more of this.
How many a fool reaches the Pleiades!
How many wise men lie hidden in the earth!

The fisherman threw away the jar, wrung out his net, cleaned it and went back a third time to the sea, asking God to forgive him. He made his cast and waited for the net to settle before drawing it in, and this time what he found in it were bits of pots, bottles and bones. He was furious and, shedding bitter tears, he recited:

You have no power at all over your daily bread;
Neither learning nor letters will fetch it for you.
Fortune and sustenance are divided up;
One land is fertile while another suffers drought.
Time’s changes bring down cultured men,
While fortune lifts the undeserving up.
Come, Death, and visit me, for life is vile;
Falcons are brought down low while ducks are raised on high.
Feel no surprise if you should see a man of excellence
In poverty, while an inferior holds sway.
One bird circles the earth from east to west;
Another gets its food but does not have to move.

He then looked up to heaven and said: ‘O my God, You know that I only cast my net four times a day. I have done this thrice and got nothing, so this time grant me something on which to live.’ He pronounced the Name of God and cast his net into the sea. He waited until it had settled and then he tried to pull it in, but found that it had snagged on the bottom. He recited the formula: ‘There is no power and no might except with God,’ and went on:

How wretched is this kind of world
That leaves us in such trouble and distress!
In the morning it may be that things go well,
But I must drink destruction’s cup when evening comes.
Yet when it is asked who leads the easiest life,
Men would reply that this was I.

The fisherman stripped off his clothes and, after diving in, he worked his hardest to drag the net to shore. Then, when he opened it up, he found in it a brass bottle with a lead seal, imprinted with the inscription of our master Solomon, the son of David, on both of whom be peace. The fisherman was delighted to see this, telling himself that it would fetch ten gold dinars if he sold it in the brass market. He shook it and, discovering that it was heavy as well as sealed, he said to himself: ‘I wonder what is in it? I’ll open it up and have a look before selling it.’ He took out a knife and worked on the lead until he had removed it from the bottle, which he then put down on the ground, shaking it in order to pour out its contents. To his astonishment, at first nothing came out, but then there emerged smoke which towered up into the sky and spread over the surface of the ground. When it had all come out, it collected and solidified; a tremor ran through it and it became an ‘ifrit with his head in the clouds and his feet on the earth. His head was like a dome, his hands were like winnowing forks and his feet like ships’ masts. He had a mouth like a cave with teeth like rocks, while his nostrils were like jugs and his eyes like lamps. He was dark and scowling.

When he saw this ‘ifrit the fisherman shuddered; his teeth chattered; his mouth dried up and he could not see where he was going. At the sight of him the ‘ifrit exclaimed: ‘There is no god but the God of Solomon, His prophet. Prophet of God, do not kill me, for I shall never disobey you again in word or in deed.’ ‘‘Ifrit,’ the fisherman said, ‘you talk of Solomon, the prophet of God, but Solomon died eighteen hundred years ago and we are living in the last age of the world. What is your story and how did you come to be in this bottle?’ To which the ‘ifrit replied: ‘There is no god but God. I have good news for you, fisherman.’ ‘What is that?’ the fisherman asked, and the ‘ifrit said: ‘I am now going to put you to the worst of deaths.’ ‘For this good news, leader of the ‘ifrits,’ exclaimed the fisherman, ‘you deserve that God’s protection be removed from you, you damned creature. Why should you kill me and what have I done to deserve this? It was I who saved you from the bottom of the sea and brought you ashore.’

But the ‘ifrit said: ‘Choose what death you want and how you want me to kill you.’ ‘What have I done wrong,’ asked the fisherman, ‘and why are you punishing me?’ The ‘ifrit replied: ‘Listen to my story,’ and the fisherman said: ‘Tell it, but keep it short as I am at my last gasp.’ ‘Know, fisherman,’ the ‘ifrit told him, ‘that I was one of the apostate jinn, and that together with Sakhr, the jinni, I rebelled against Solomon, the son of David, on both of whom be peace. Solomon sent his vizier, Asaf, to fetch me to him under duress, and I was forced to go with him in a state of humiliation to stand before Solomon. “I take refuge with God!” exclaimed Solomon when he saw me, and he then offered me conversion to the Faith and proposed that I enter his service. When I refused, he called for this bottle, in which he imprisoned me, sealing it with lead and imprinting on it the Greatest Name of God. Then, at his command, the jinn carried me off and threw me into the middle of the sea.

‘For a hundred years I stayed there, promising myself that I would give whoever freed me enough wealth to last him for ever, but the years passed and no one rescued me. For the next hundred years I told myself that I would open up all the treasures of the earth for my rescuer, but still no one rescued me. Four hundred years later, I promised that I would grant three wishes, but when I still remained imprisoned, I became furiously angry and said to myself that I would kill whoever saved me, giving him a choice of how he wanted to die. It is you who are my rescuer, and so I allow you this choice.’

When the fisherman heard this, he exclaimed in wonder at his bad luck in freeing the ‘ifrit now, and he went on: ‘Spare me, may God spare you, and do not kill me lest God place you in the power of one who will kill you.’ ‘I must kill you,’ insisted the ‘ifrit, ‘and so choose how you want to die.’ Ignoring this, the fisherman made another appeal, calling on the ‘ifrit to show gratitude for his release. ‘It is only because you freed me that I am going to kill you,’ repeated the ‘ifrit, at which the fisherman said: ‘Lord of the ‘ifrits, I have done you good and you are repaying me with evil. The proverbial lines are right where they say:

We did them good; they did its opposite,
And this, by God, is how the shameless act.
Whoever helps those who deserve no help,
Will be like one who rescues a hyena.’

‘Don’t go on so long,’ said the ‘ifrit when he heard this, ‘for death is coming to you.’ The fisherman said to himself: ‘This is a jinni and I am a human. God has given me sound intelligence which I can use to find a way of destroying him, whereas he can only use vicious cunning.’ So he asked: ‘Are you definitely going to kill me?’ and when the ‘ifrit confirmed this, he said: ‘I conjure you by the Greatest Name inscribed on the seal of Solomon and ask you to give me a truthful answer to a question that I have.’ ‘I shall,’ replied the ‘ifrit, who had been shaken and disturbed by the mention of the Greatest Name, and he went on: ‘Ask your question but be brief.’ The fisherman went on: ‘You say you were in this bottle, but there is not room in it for your hand or your foot, much less all the rest of you.’ ‘You don’t believe that I was in it?’ asked the ‘ifrit, to which the fisherman replied: ‘I shall never believe it until I see it with my own eyes.’

A shudder ran through the ‘ifrit and he became a cloud of smoke hovering over the sea. Then the smoke coalesced and entered the jar bit by bit until it was all there. Quickly the fisherman picked up the brass stopper with its inscription and put it over the mouth of the bottle. He called out to the ‘ifrit: ‘Ask me how you want to die. By God, I am going to throw you into the sea and then build myself a house in this place so that I can stop anyone who comes fishing by telling them that there is an ‘ifrit here who gives anyone who brings him up a choice of how he wants to be killed.’

When the ‘ifrit heard this and found himself imprisoned in the bottle, he tried to get out but could not, as he was prevented by Solomon’s seal, and he realized that the fisherman had tricked him. ‘I was only joking,’ he told the fisherman, who replied: ‘You are lying, you most despicable, foulest and most insignificant of ‘ifrits,’ and he took up the bottle. ‘No, no,’ called the ‘ifrit, but the fisherman said: ‘Yes, yes,’ at which the ‘ifrit asked him mildly and humbly what he intended to do with him. ‘I am going to throw you into the sea,’ the fisherman told him. ‘You may have been there for eighteen hundred years, but I shall see to it that you stay there until the Last Trump. Didn’t I say: “Spare me, may God spare you, and do not kill me lest God place you in the power of one who will kill you”? But you refused and acted treacherously towards me. Now God has put you in my power and I shall do the same to you.’ ‘Open the bottle,’ implored the ‘ifrit, ‘so that I can do you good.’ ‘Damned liar,’ said the fisherman. ‘You and I are like the vizier of King Yunan and Duban the sage.’ ‘What is their story?’ asked the ‘ifrit, AND THE FISHERMAN REPLIED:

The Story of King Yunan and Duban the Sage

You must know, ‘ifrit, that once upon a time in the old days in the land of Ruman there was a king called Yunan in the city of Fars. He was a wealthy and dignified man with troops and guards of all races, but he was also a leper, who had taken medicines of various kinds and used ointments, but whose illness doctors and men of learning had been unable to cure.

There was an elderly physician known as Duban the sage, who had studied the books of the Greeks, the Persians, the Arabs and the Syrians. He was a master of medicine and of astronomy and was conversant with the fundamental principles of his subject, with a knowledge of what was useful and what was harmful. He knew the herbs and plants that were hurtful and those that were helpful, as well as having a mastery of philosophy, together with all branches of medicine and other sciences. When this man arrived at the city, within a few days he had heard that the king was suffering from leprosy and that no doctor or man of learning had been able to cure him. He spent the night thinking over the problem, and when dawn broke he put on his most splendid clothes and went to the king, kissing the ground before him and calling eloquently for the continuance of his glory and good fortune. After introducing himself, he went on: ‘I have heard, your majesty, of the disease that has afflicted you and that, although you have been treated by many doctors, they have been unable to remove it. I shall cure you without giving you any medicine to drink or applying any ointments.’

Yunan was amazed to hear what he had to say and asked how he was going to do that, promising to enrich him and his children’s children. ‘I shall shower favours on you,’ he said, ‘and grant you all your wishes, taking you as a boon companion and a dear friend.’ He then presented Duban with a robe of honour and treated him with favour, before asking: ‘Are you really going to cure my leprosy without medicines or ointment?’ Duban repeated that he would and the astonished king asked when this would be, urging him to be quick. ‘To hear is to obey,’ replied Duban, promising to do this the very next day.

Duban now went to the city, where he rented a house in which he deposited his books, his medicines and his drugs. He took some of the latter and placed them in a polo stick, for which he made a handle, and he used his skill to design a ball. The next day, after he had finished, he went into the presence of the king, kissed the ground before him, and told him to ride out to the polo ground and play a game. The king was accompanied by the emirs, chamberlains, viziers and officers of state, and before he had taken his seat on the ground, Duban came up to him and handed him the stick. ‘Take this,’ he said. ‘Hold it like this and when you ride on to the field, hit the ball with a full swing until the palm of your hand begins to sweat, together with the rest of your body. The drug will then enter through your palm and spread through the rest of you. When you have finished and the drug has penetrated, go back to your palace, wash in the baths and then go to sleep, for you will have been cured. That is all.’

At that, the king took the stick from him and mounted, holding it in his hand. He threw the ball ahead of him and rode after it, hitting it as hard as he could when he caught up with it, and then following it up and hitting it again until the palm of his hand and the rest of his body became sweaty because of his grip on the stick. When Duban saw that the drug had penetrated into the king’s body, he told him to go back to his palace and bathe immediately. The king went back straight away and ordered that the baths be cleared for him. This was done, and house boys and mamluks hurried up to him and prepared clothes for him to wear. He then entered the baths, washed himself thoroughly and dressed before coming out, after which he rode back to his palace and fell asleep.

So much for him, but as for Duban the sage, he returned to spend the night in his house, and in the morning he went to ask permission to see the king. On being allowed to enter, he went in, kissed the ground before him and addressed him with these lines which he chanted:

Virtues are exalted when you are called their father,
A title that none other may accept.
The brightness shining from your face removes
The gloom that shrouds each grave affair.
This face of yours will never cease to gleam,
Although the face of Time may frown.
Your liberality has granted me the gifts
That rain clouds shower down on the hills.
Your generosity has destroyed your wealth,
Until you reached the heights at which you aimed.

When Duban had finished these lines, the king stood up and embraced him, before seating him by his side and presenting him with splendid robes of honour. This was because when he had left the baths he had looked at his body and found it, to his great delight and relief, pure and silver white, showing no trace of leprosy. In the morning, he had gone to his court and taken his seat on his royal throne, the chamberlains and officers of state all standing up for him, and it was then that Duban had come in. The king had risen quickly for him, and after the sage had been seated by his side, splendid tables of food were set out and he ate with the king and kept him company for the rest of the day. The king then made him a present of two thousand dinars, in addition to the robes of honour and other gifts, after which he mounted him on his own horse.

Duban went back to his house, leaving the king filled with admiration for what he had done and saying: ‘This man treated me externally without using any ointment. By God, that is skill of a high order! He deserves gifts and favours and I shall always treat him as a friend and companion.’ The king passed a happy night, gladdened by the soundness of his body and his freedom from disease. The next day, he went out and sat on his throne, while his state officials stood and the emirs and viziers took their seats on his right and his left. He asked for Duban, who entered and kissed the ground before him, at which the king got up, greeted him, seated him by his side and ate with him. He then presented him with more robes of honour as well as gifts, and talked with him until nightfall, when he gave him another five robes of honour together with a thousand dinars, after which Duban went gratefully home.

The next morning, the king came to his court, where he was surrounded by his emirs, viziers and chamberlains. Among the viziers was an ugly and ill-omened man, base, miserly and so envious that he was in love with envy. When this man saw that the king had taken Duban as an intimate and had rewarded him with favours, he was jealous and planned to do him an injury. For, as the sayings have it: ‘No one is free of envy’ and ‘Injustice lurks in the soul; strength shows it and weakness hides it.’

This vizier came up to King Yunan, kissed the ground before him and said: ‘King of the age, I have grown up surrounded by your bounty and I have some serious advice for you. Were I to conceal it from you, I would show myself to be a bastard, but if you tell me to give it to you, I shall do so.’ Yunan was disturbed by this and said: ‘What is this advice of yours?’ The vizier replied: ‘Great king, it was a saying of the ancients that Time was no friend to those who did not look at the consequences of their actions. I have observed that your majesty has wrongly shown favour to an enemy who is looking to destroy your kingdom. You have treated this man with generosity and done him the greatest honour, taking him as an intimate, something that fills me with apprehension.’

Yunan was uneasy; his colour changed and he asked the vizier who he was talking about. ‘If you are asleep, wake up,’ the vizier told him, and went on: ‘I am talking about the sage Duban.’ ‘Damn you!’ exclaimed Yunan. ‘This is my friend and the dearest of people to me, for he cured me through something that I held in my hand from a disease that no other doctor could treat. His like is not to be found in this age or in this world, from west to east. You may accuse him, but today I am going to assign him pay and allowances, with a monthly income of a thousand dinars, while even if I divided my kingdom with him, this would be too little. I think that it is envy that has made you say this, reminding me of the story of King Sindbad.’

The Story of King Sindbad and the Falcon

You must know that there was a Persian king with a passion for enjoyment and amusement, who had a fondness for hunting. He had reared a falcon which was his constant companion by night and by day, and which would spend the night perched on his wrist. He would take it hunting with him and he had a golden bowl made for it which he hung round its neck and from which it could drink. One day the chief falconer came to where he was sitting and told him that it was time to go out hunting. The king gave the orders and went off with the falcon on his wrist until he and his party reached a wadi, where they spread out their hunting cordon. Trapped in this was a gazelle and the king threatened that anyone who allowed it to leap over his head would be put to death. When the cordon was narrowed, the gazelle came to where the king was posted, supported itself on its hindlegs and placed its forelegs on its chest as though it was kissing the ground before him. He bent his head towards it and it then jumped over him, making for the open country. He noticed that his men were looking at him and winking at each other and when he asked his vizier what this meant, the man explained: ‘They are pointing out that you said that if anyone let the gazelle jump over his head, he would be killed.’

The king then swore that he would hunt it down and he rode off in pursuit, following the gazelle until he came to a mountain. There it was about to pass through a cleft when the king loosed his falcon at it and the bird clawed at its eyes, blinding and dazing it, so that the king could draw his mace and knock it over with a single blow. He then dismounted and cut its throat, after which he skinned it and tied it to his saddlebow. As this was in the noonday heat and the region was desolate and waterless, both the king and his horse were thirsty by now. The king scouted round and discovered a tree from which what looked like liquid butter was dripping. Wearing a pair of kid gloves, he took the bowl from the falcon’s neck, filled it with this liquid and set it in front of the bird, but it knocked the bowl and overturned it. The king took it and filled it again, thinking that the falcon must be thirsty, but the same thing happened when he put it down a second time. This annoyed him and he went a third time to fill the bowl and take it to his horse, but this time the falcon upset it with its wing. The king cursed it, exclaiming: ‘You unluckiest of birds, you have stopped me drinking, and have stopped yourself and the horse.’ He then struck off its wing with a blow from his sword, but the bird raised its head as though to say by its gesture: ‘Look at the top of the tree.’ The king raised his eyes and what he saw there was a brood of vipers whose poison was dripping down. Immediately regretting what he had done, he mounted his horse and rode back to his pavilion, bringing with him the gazelle, which he handed to the cook, telling him to take it and roast it. As he sat on his chair with the falcon on his wrist, it drew its last breath and died, leaving its master to exclaim with sorrow for having killed it, when it had saved his life. So ends the story of King Sindbad.

‘Great king,’ the vizier said, ‘Sindbad acted out of necessity and I can see nothing wrong in that. I myself am acting out of sympathy for you, so that you may realize that I am right, for otherwise you may meet the same fate as the vizier who schemed against the prince.’ ‘How was that?’ the king asked, AND THE VIZIER SAID:

The Story of the Treacherous Vizier

You must know, your majesty, that there was a vizier in the service of a certain king with a son who was passionately fond of hunting. This vizier had been ordered to accompany the prince wherever he went, and so, when he went off to hunt one day, the vizier rode with him. While they were riding they caught sight of a huge beast and the vizier encouraged the prince to pursue it. The prince rode after it until he was out of sight and the beast then vanished into the desert, leaving the prince with no idea of where to go. Just then, ahead of him he saw a weeping girl and when he asked her who she was, she told him: ‘I am the daughter of one of the kings of India and while I was in this desert I became drowsy. Then, before I knew what was happening, I had fallen off my beast and was left alone, not knowing what to do.’

When the prince heard this, he felt sorry for the girl and took her up behind him on the back of his horse. On his way, he passed a ruined building and the girl said she wanted to relieve herself. He set her down, but she was taking so long that he followed her, only to discover that, although he had not realized it, she was a female ghul and was telling her children: ‘I have brought you a fat young man today.’ ‘Fetch him to us, mother,’ they said, ‘so that we can swallow him down.’ On hearing this, the prince shuddered, fearing for his life and certain that he was going to die. He went back and the ghula came out and, seeing him panicstricken and shivering, she asked why he was afraid. ‘I have an enemy whom I fear,’ he told her. ‘You call yourself a prince?’ she asked, and when he said yes, she went on: ‘Why don’t you buy him off with money?’ ‘He won’t accept money but wants my life,’ he told her, adding: ‘I am afraid of him and I have been wronged.’ ‘In that case, if what you say is true, then ask help from God,’ she said, ‘for He will protect you against your enemy’s evil and the evil that you fear from him.’ At that the prince lifted his head towards heaven and said: ‘God, Who answers the prayers of those in distress when they call on You, and Who clears away evil, may You help me against my enemy and remove him from me, for You have power to do what You wish.’

After hearing the prince’s prayer, the ghula left him. He went back to his father and when he told him about the vizier’s advice, his father summoned the man and had him killed. As for you, your majesty, if you put your trust in this sage, he will see to it that you die the worst of deaths, and it will be the man whom you have well treated and taken as a friend who will destroy you. Don’t you see that he cured your disease externally through something you held in your hand, so how can you be sure that he won’t kill you by something else you hold?

‘What you say is right, vizier, my sound advisor,’ agreed the king, ‘for this man has come as a spy to destroy me and if he could cure me with something I held, it may be that he can kill me with something that I smell.’

Then he asked the vizier what was to be done about Duban. The vizier said: ‘Send for him immediately, telling him to come here, and when he does, cut off his head and then you will be safe from any harm he may intend to do you. Betray him before he betrays you.’ The king agreed with the vizier, and sent for Duban, who came gladly, not knowing what God the Merciful had ordained. This was as the poet said:

You who fear your fate, be at your ease;
Entrust your affairs to Him Who has stretched out the earth.
What is decreed by fate will come about,
And you are safe from what is not decreed.

Duban the wise came into the presence of the king and recited:

If I do not show gratitude
In accordance with part, at least, of your deserts,
Tell me for whom I should compose my poetry and my prose.
Before I asked, you granted me
Favours that came with no delay and no excuse.
Why then do I not give you your due of praise,
Lauding your generosity in secret and in public?
I shall record the benefits you heaped on me,
Lightening my cares, but burdening my back.

He followed this with another poem:

Turn aside from cares, entrusting your affairs to fate;
Rejoice in the good that will come speedily to you,
So that you may forget all that is past.
There is many a troublesome affair
Whose aftermath will leave you in content.
God acts according to His will;
Do not oppose your God.

He also recited:

Leave your affairs to God, the Gentle, the Omniscient,
And let your heart rest from all worldly care.
Know that things do not go as you wish;
They follow the decree of God, the King.

He then recited:

Be of good cheer, relax; forget your cares;
Cares eat away the resolute man’s heart.
Planning is no help to a slave who has no power.
Abandon this and live in happiness.

The king asked him: ‘Do you know why I have sent for you?’ ‘No one knows what is hidden except for God,’ Duban replied. ‘I have sent for you,’ said the king, ‘in order to kill you and take your life.’ This astonished Duban, who said: ‘Why should you kill me, your majesty, and what is my crime?’ ‘I have been told that you are a spy,’ answered the king, ‘and that you have come to murder me. I am going to kill you before you can do the same to me.’ The king then called for the executioner and said: ‘Cut off this traitor’s head, so that we may be freed from his evil-doing.’ ‘Spare me,’ said Duban, ‘and God will spare you; do not kill me, lest He kill you.’

He then repeated what I repeated to you, ‘ifrit, but you would not give up your intention to kill me. Similarly, the king insisted: ‘I shall not be safe unless I put you to death. You cured me with something that I held in my hand, and I cannot be sure that you will not kill me with something that I smell or in some other way.’ Duban said: ‘My reward from you, O king, is the reward of good by evil,’ but the king insisted: ‘You must be killed without delay.’

When Duban was certain that the king was going to have him killed, he wept in sorrow for the good that he had done to the undeserving, as the poet has said:

You can be sure that Maimuna has no sense,
Though this is what her father has.
Whoever walks on dry or slippery ground,
And takes no thought, must fall.

The executioner then came up, blindfolded him and unsheathed his sword, asking the king’s permission to proceed. Duban was weeping and imploring the king: ‘Spare me and God will spare you; do not slay me lest God slay you.’ He recited:

I gave my good advice and yet had no success,
While they succeeded, but through treachery.
What I advised humiliated me.
If I live, never shall I give advice again;
If not, after my death let all advisors be accursed.

Then he said to the king: ‘If this is how you reward me, it is the crocodile’s reward.’ The king asked for the story of the crocodile, but Duban replied: ‘I cannot tell it to you while I am in this state. I conjure you by God to spare me so that God may spare you.’ At that one of the king’s courtiers got up and asked the king for Duban’s life, pointing out: ‘We have not seen that he has done you any wrong, but only that he cured you of a disease that no wise doctor was able to treat.’ The king said: ‘You do not know why I have ordered his death, but this is because, if I spare him, I shall certainly die. A man who cured me of my illness by something that I held in my hand is able to kill me by something that I smell. I am afraid that he has been bribed to murder me, as he is a spy and this is why he has come here. He must be executed, and after that I shall be safe.’

Duban repeated his plea for mercy, but on realizing that he could not escape execution, he said to the king: ‘If I must be killed, allow me a delay so that I may return to my house, give instructions to my family and my neighbours about my funeral, settle my debts and give away my books of medicine. I have a very special book which I shall present to you to be kept in your treasury.’ ‘What is in the book?’ asked the king. ‘Innumerable secrets,’ Duban replied, ‘the least of which is that, if you cut off my head and then open three pages and read three lines from the left-hand page, my head will speak to you and answer all your questions.’ The astonished king trembled with joy. ‘When I cut off your head, will you really talk to me?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ said Duban. ‘This is an amazing thing!’ exclaimed the king, and he sent him off under escort.

Duban returned to his house and settled all his affairs, and then the next day he came back to the court, where all the viziers, chamberlains, deputies and officers of state assembled, until the place looked like a garden in flower. He entered and was brought before the king, carrying with him an old book together with a collyrium case containing powder. He sat down and asked for a plate, which was brought. He then poured the powder on it and spread it out, after which he said: ‘King, take this book, but don’t open it until you cut off my head. When you have done that, set the head on the plate and have it pressed into the powder. At that, the flow of blood will halt and you can then open the book.’

The king took the book from him and gave orders for his execution. The executioner cut off his head, which fell on the plate, where it was pressed down into the powder. The blood ceased to flow and Duban the wise opened his eyes and said: ‘O king, open the book.’ The king did this, but he found the pages stuck together, so he put his finger into his mouth, wet it with his spittle, and with difficulty he opened the first, the second and the third pages. He opened six pages in all, but when he looked at them, he could find nothing written there. ‘Wise man,’ he said, ‘there is no writing here.’ ‘Open more pages,’ said Duban. The king opened three more, but soon afterwards he felt the poison with which the book had been impregnated spreading through him. He was wracked by convulsions and cried out that he had been poisoned, while Duban recited:

They wielded power with arrogance,
But soon it was as though their power had never been.
If they had acted justly, they would have met with justice,
But they were tyrants and Time played the tyrant in return,
Afflicting them with grievous trials.
It was as though here fate was telling them:
‘This is a return for that, and Time cannot be blamed.’

As soon as Duban’s head had finished speaking, the king fell dead.

‘Know then, ‘ifrit,’ said the fisherman, ‘that had he spared Duban, God would have spared him, but as he refused and looked to have him killed, God destroyed him. Had you spared me, I would have spared you, but you wanted nothing but my death and so now I am going to destroy you by throwing you into the sea here, imprisoned in this bottle.’ The ‘ifrit cried out: ‘I implore you, in God’s Name, fisherman, don’t do this! Spare me and don’t punish me for what I did. If I treated you badly, do you for your part treat me well, as the proverb says: “You who do good to the evil-doer, know that what he has done is punishment enough for him.” Do not do what ‘Umama did to ‘Atika!’ ‘What was that?’ asked the fisherman, but the ‘ifrit said: ‘I cannot talk while I am imprisoned, but if you let me out, I shall tell you the story.’ The fisherman said: ‘Stop talking like this, for I shall certainly throw you into the sea and I am never going to release you. I pleaded with you and begged you, but all you wanted to do was to kill me, although I had done nothing at all to deserve this and, far from doing you any harm, I had helped you by freeing you from your prison. When you did that to me, I realized that you were an evil-doer. Be sure that, when I throw you into the sea, if anyone brings you out, I will tell him what you did to me and warn him, so that he may throw you back again and there you will stay until the end of time or until you perish.’ ‘Free me,’ pleaded the ‘ifrit. ‘This is a time for generosity and I promise you that I shall never act against you again but will help you by making you rich.’

At this, the fisherman made the ‘ifrit promise that were he freed, far from hurting his rescuer, he would help him. When the fisherman was sure of this and had made the ‘ifrit swear by the Greatest Name of God, he opened the bottle and the smoke rose up, until it had all come out and had formed into a hideous shape. The ‘ifrit then picked the bottle up and hurled it into the sea, convincing the watching fisherman that he was going to be killed. The man soiled his trousers, crying: ‘This is not a good sign!’ but then his courage came back and he said: ‘God Almighty has said: “Fulfil your promise, for your promise will be questioned.”* You gave me your word, swearing that you would not act treacherously to me, as otherwise God will do the same to you, for He is a jealous God, Who bides His time but does not forget. I say to you what Duban the wise said to King Yunan: “Spare me and God will spare you.”’

The ‘ifrit laughed and told the fisherman to follow him as he walked ahead. This the fisherman did, scarcely believing that he was safe. The pair of them left the city, climbed a mountain and then went down into a wide plain. There they saw a pool, and after the ‘ifrit had waded into the middle of it, he asked the fisherman to follow him, which he did. When the ‘ifrit stopped, he told the fisherman to cast his net, and the man was astonished to see that the pond contained coloured fish – white, red, blue and yellow. He took out his net, cast it and when he drew it in he found four fish, each a different colour. He was delighted by this, and the ‘ifrit said: ‘Present these to the sultan and he will enrich you. Then I ask you in God’s Name to excuse me, since at this time I know no other way to help you. I have been in the sea for eighteen hundred years and this is the first time that I have seen the face of the land.’ After advising the fisherman not to fish the pool more than once a day, he took his leave, speaking words of farewell. Then he stamped his foot on the earth and a crack appeared into which he was swallowed.

The fisherman returned to the city, full of wonder at his encounter. He took the fish to his house, where he brought out an earthenware bowl, filled it with water and put them in it. As they wriggled about in the water, he placed the bowl on his head and went to the palace as the ‘ifrit had told him. When he came to the king and presented him with the fish, the king was astonished, for never in his life had he seen anything like them. He gave orders that they were to be handed over to a slave girl who was acting as cook but whose skill had not yet been tested, as she had been given him three days earlier by the king of Rum. The vizier told her to fry the fish, adding that the king had said that he was testing her only in the hour of need, and that he was putting his hopes in her artistry and cooking skills, for the fish had been given him as a present.

After issuing these instructions, the vizier went back to the king, who told him to hand the fisherman four hundred dinars. After he had passed over the money, the man stowed it inside his clothes and set off back home at a run, falling, getting up and then stumbling again, thinking that this was all a dream. He bought what was needed for his family and then returned to his wife in joy and delight.

So much for him, but as for the slave girl, she took the fish and cleaned them. Then, after setting the frying pan on the fire, she put the fish in it and when one side was properly cooked, she turned them on to the other. All of a sudden, the kitchen wall split open and out came a girl, with a beautiful figure and smooth cheeks, perfect in all her attributes. Her eyes were darkened with kohl and she had on a silken kaffiyeh with a blue fringe. She was wearing earrings; on her wrists were a pair of bracelets, while her fingers were adorned with rings set with precious gems, and in her hand she held a bamboo staff. Thrusting this into the pan, she asked: ‘Fish, are you still faithful to your covenant?’ at which the cook fainted. The girl repeated her question a second and a third time and the fish raised their heads from the pan and said: ‘Yes, yes,’ in clear voices, and then they recited:

If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.

At that, the girl turned the pan upside down with her staff and left through the hole from which she had come, after which the wall closed up behind her. The cook recovered from her faint and saw the four fish burned like black charcoal. She exclaimed: ‘His spear was broken on his very first raid!’ and fell unconscious again on the floor. While she was in this confused state, the vizier came and saw that something had gone badly wrong with her, so much so that she could not even tell what day of the week it was. He nudged her with his foot, and when she had recovered her senses, she explained to him, in tears, what had happened. He was astonished, and exclaimed: ‘This is something wonderful!’ He then sent for the fisherman and, when he was brought in, the vizier told him to fetch another four fish like the first ones.

The fisherman went to the pool, cast his net and when he drew it in, there were four fish like the first. He took them to the vizier, who brought them to the cook and said: ‘Fry these in front of me so that I can see what happens.’ The cook got up, prepared the fish, put the pan over the fire and threw them into it. As soon as she did, the wall split open and out came the girl, looking as she had done before, with a staff in her hand. She prodded the pan and asked: ‘Fish, fish, are you true to your old covenant?’ At this, all the fish raised their heads and repeated the lines:

If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.

When the fish spoke, the girl overturned the pan with her staff and then left by the way she had come, with the wall closing behind her. At that, the vizier got up and said: ‘This is something which must not be kept from the king.’ So he went to the king and told him the story, explaining what he had seen for himself. ‘I must see this with my own eyes,’ said the king, and at that the fisherman was sent for and told to bring another four fish like the others. He went down to the pool with three guards as an escort and brought the fish immediately. The king ordered him to be given four hundred dinars, after which he turned to the vizier and told him: ‘Come and cook these fish in my presence.’ The vizier did as he was told, brought the pan and, after preparing the fish, he put the pan over the fire and threw them into it. As soon as he did so, the wall split open and out came a black slave, tall as a mountain or like a survivor of the race of ‘Ad. In his hand was a green bough and he asked in a hectoring voice: ‘Fish, fish, are you true to your old covenant?’ The fish raised their heads from the pan and replied: ‘Yes, yes, we keep to our covenant.

If you return, we return;
If you keep faith, then so do we,
But if you go off, we are quits.’

The slave came up to the pan, overturned it with the branch that he was holding, and left by the way that he had come. The vizier and the king looked at the fish and saw that they were now like charcoal. The king was amazed and said: ‘This is something that cannot be kept quiet and there must be some secret attached to them.’ So he gave orders for the fisherman to be summoned and when the man came, the king asked him where the fish came from. ‘From a pool surrounded by four mountains,’ replied the fisherman, ‘and it is under the mountain outside the city.’ The king turned and asked: ‘How many days’ journey is it?’ and the fisherman told him that it was half an hour away.

This astonished the king and he ordered his troops to mount and ride immediately, with the fisherman at their head, while the fisherman, in his turn, as he accompanied the king, spent his time cursing the ‘ifrit. The riders climbed up the mountain and then went down into a broad plain that they had never seen before in their lives. Everyone, including the king, was filled with wonder when they looked at it and at the pool in its centre, set as it was between four mountains, with its fish of four colours – red, white, yellow and blue. The king halted in astonishment and asked his soldiers and the others there whether they had ever seen the pool before. ‘King of the age,’ they replied, ‘never in all our lives have we set eyes on it.’ The elderly were asked about it, but they too said that they had never before seen the pool there.

The king then swore by God: ‘I shall not enter my city or sit on my throne again until I find out the secret of this pool and of these fish.’ He gave orders for his men to camp around the mountains, and then summoned his vizier, a learned, wise and sensible man, with a knowledge of affairs. When he came into the king’s presence, the king said to him: ‘I am going to tell you what I want to do. It has struck me that I should go out alone tonight and investigate the secret of this pool and of these fish. I want you to sit at the entrance of my tent and to tell the emirs, viziers, chamberlains and deputies, as well as everyone who asks about me, that I am unwell and that you have my instructions not to allow anyone to come in to see me. Don’t tell anyone what I am planning to do.’

The vizier was in no position to disobey and so the king changed his clothes and strapped on his sword. He climbed down from one of the mountains and walked on for the rest of the night until morning. He spent all the next day walking in the intense heat, and carried on for a second night until morning. At that point, he was pleased to see something black in the distance, and he said to himself: ‘Perhaps I shall find someone to tell me about the pool and the fish.’ When he went nearer he found a palace made of black stones plated with iron, one leaf of whose gate was open and the other shut. Joyfully he stood by the door and knocked lightly; on hearing no reply, he knocked a second and a third time, and when there was still no answer, he knocked more loudly. When no one answered, he was sure that the palace must be empty and so, plucking up his courage, he went through the gate to the passage that led from it, and called out: ‘People of the palace, here is a passing stranger. Have you any food?’

He repeated this a second and a third time, and when there was still no reply, emboldened and heartened, he went through the passage to the centre of the palace. This was furnished with silks, starry tapestries and other hangings, but there was no one there. In the centre was an open space, leading to four halls. There was a stone bench, and one hall next to another, then an ornate fountain and four lions of red gold, from whose mouths water poured, glittering like pearls or gems. Round and about were birds and over the top of the palace there was a net of gold that kept them from flying away, but the king was astonished and saddened that he had not seen anyone whom he could ask about the plain, the pool, the fish, the mountains and the palace.

He was sitting between the doors, sunk in thought, when suddenly he heard a plaintive sound coming from a sorrowful heart, with a voice chanting these lines:

I try to hide what I suffer at your hands, but this is clear,
With my eyes exchanging sleep for sleeplessness.
Time, you neither spare me nor cease your work,
And it is between hardship and danger that my heart lies.
Have you no mercy on one whom love’s law has abased,
Or on the wealthy who is now made poor?
I was jealous of the breeze as it blows over you,
But when fate pounces, then men’s eyes are blind.
What can the archer do if, as he meets the foe,
His bow-string snaps just when he wants to shoot?
When cares mass to assault a man,
Where can he flee from destiny and fate?

When the king heard this lament, he got up and, following the sound, he found a curtain lowered over the door of a room. He lifted it and behind it he found a handsome young man, well made, eloquent, with a bright face, ruddy cheeks and a mole on his cheek like a disc of amber. He was seated on a couch raised one cubit from the ground and he fitted the poet’s description:

There is many a slender one whose dark hair and bright forehead
Have made mankind to walk in dark and light.
Do not find fault with the mole upon his cheek:
I would sell my brother in exchange for such a speck.

The king was glad to see him and greeted him. He, for his part, was sitting there wearing a silk gown embroidered with Egyptian gold, and on his head was a crown studded with gems. He was showing signs of grief, but when the king greeted him, he replied with the utmost courtesy: ‘Your dignity deserves that I should rise for you, but I have an excuse for not doing so.’ ‘I excuse you, young man,’ said the king. ‘I am your guest and I am also here on an important errand. I want you to tell me about the pool, the fish, this palace, the reason why you are here alone and why you are weeping.’

When the young man heard this, tears coursed down his cheeks and he wept bitterly until his breast was drenched. He then recited:

Say to the one to whom Time grants sleep,
How often misfortunes subside only to rise up!
While you may sleep, God’s eye remains sleepless.
For whom is Time unclouded and for whom do worldly things endure?

He sighed deeply and continued to recite:

Entrust your affair to the Lord of all mankind;
Abandon care and leave aside anxious thoughts.
Do not ask how what happened has occurred,
For all things come about through the decree of fate.

The king, filled with wonder, asked the youth why he was weeping. ‘How can I not shed tears,’ he replied, ‘when I am in this state?’ and he reached down to the skirts of his robe and raised it. It could then be seen that the lower half of his body, down to his feet, was of stone, while from his navel to the hair of his head he was human. When he saw this condition of his, the king was filled with grief and regret. He exclaimed in sorrow: ‘Young man, you have added another care to my cares! I was looking for information about the fish, but now I see I must ask both about them and about you.’ He went on to recite the formula: ‘There is no power and no strength except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent,’ and added: ‘Tell me at once what your story is.’

‘Listen and look,’ said the young man. ‘My ears and eyes are ready,’ replied the king, and the young man continued: ‘There is a marvellous tale attached to the fish and to me, which, were it written with needles on the corners of the eyes, would be a lesson for all who can learn.’ ‘How is that?’ asked the king, AND THE YOUNG MAN REPLIED:

The Story of the Semi-petrified Prince

You must know that my father was the ruler of this city. His name was Mahmud and he was the king of the Black Islands and of these four mountains. He died after a reign of seventy years and I succeeded him on the throne. I married my cousin, who loved me so deeply that, if I left her, she would neither eat nor drink until my return. She stayed with me for five years but then one day she went in the evening to the baths. I told the cook to prepare a quick supper for me and then I came to these apartments and lay down to sleep in our usual place, telling the slave girls to sit, one at my head and one at my feet. I was disturbed because of my wife’s absence, and although my eyes were shut, I could not sleep and I was still alert.

It was then that I heard the slave girl who was sitting at my head saying to her companion: ‘Mas‘uda, how unfortunate our master is and how miserable are the days of his youth! What damage he suffers at the hands of that damned harlot, our mistress!’ ‘Yes,’ answered the other, ‘may God curse treacherous adulteresses. A man like our master is too young to satisfy this whore, who every night sleeps outside the palace.’ The girl at my head said: ‘Our master is dumb and deluded in that he never asks questions about her.’ ‘Do you think that he knows about her and that she does this with his consent?’ exclaimed the other, adding: ‘She prepares him a drink that he takes every night before he goes to sleep and in it she puts a sleeping drug. He knows nothing about what happens or where she goes. After she has given him the drink, she puts on her clothes, perfumes herself and goes out, leaving him till dawn. Then she comes back to him and burns something under his nose so that he wakes from his sleep.’

When I heard what the girls were saying, the light became darkness in my eyes, although I could not believe that night had come. Then my wife returned from the baths; our table was spread and we ate, after which we sat for a time talking, as usual. Then she called for my evening drink and when she had given me the cup which she had poured out, I tipped the contents into my pocket, while pretending to be drinking it as usual. I lay down immediately and, pretending to be asleep, I heard her saying: ‘Sleep through the night and never get up. By God, I loathe you and I loathe your appearance. I am tired of living with you and I don’t know when God is going to take your life.’ She then got up, put on her most splendid clothes, perfumed herself and, taking my sword, she strapped it on and went out through the palace gates, while for my part I got up and followed her out. She made her way through the markets until she reached the city gate. She spoke some words that I could not understand, at which the bolts fell and the gate opened.

My wife went out, without realizing that I was following her, and passed between the mounds until she came to a hut with a brick dome. As she went in through its door, I climbed on to the roof and looked down to see her enter and go up to a black slave. One of his lips looked like a pot lid and the other like the sole of a shoe – a lip that could pick up sand from the top of a pebble. The slave was lying on cane stalks; he was leprous and covered in rags and tatters. As my wife kissed the ground before him, he raised his head and said: ‘Damn you, why have you been so slow? My black cousins were here drinking, and each left with a girl, but because of you I didn’t want to drink.’ She said: ‘My master, my darling, delight of my eyes, don’t you know that I am married to my cousin, whose appearance I hate and whose company I loathe? Were it not that I am afraid for you, I would not let the sun rise before the city had been left desolate, echoing to the screeches of owls and the cawing of crows, the haunt of foxes and wolves, and I would move its stones to behind Mount Qaf.’ ‘You are lying, damn you,’ said the black man. ‘I swear by the chivalry of the blacks – and don’t think that our chivalry is like that of the whites – that if you are as late as this once more, I will never again keep company with you or join my body to yours. You are playing fast and loose with me. Am I here just to serve your lust, you stinking bitch, vilest of the whites?’

As I looked on and listened to what they were saying, the world turned black for me and I didn’t know where I was. My wife was standing weeping, humbling herself before the slave and saying: ‘My darling, fruit of my heart, if you are angry with me, who will save me, and if you throw me out, who will shelter me, my darling and light of my eyes?’ She went on weeping and imploring him until, to her delight, she managed to conciliate him. She then got up and took off all her clothes. ‘My master,’ she said, ‘is there anything for your servant to eat?’ ‘Lift the pan cover,’ he said. ‘There are some cooked rat bones beneath it that you can eat, and you can then go to this jar and drink the remains of the beer there.’

After my wife had eaten and drunk, she washed her hands and her mouth before lying down naked on the cane stalks with the slave, and getting in with him beneath the rags and tatters. When I saw what she had done, I lost control of myself and, climbing down from the top of the roof, I drew the sword that I had brought with me, intending to kill them both. I struck the slave with the intention of cutting off his head but I had failed to sever his jugular and only cut his gullet, skin and flesh. He let out a loud snort and, as my wife stirred, I stepped back, returned the sword to its sheath and went back to the city, where I entered the palace and lay down on my bed until morning. There was my wife coming to wake me, with her hair shorn, wearing mourning. She said: ‘Cousin, don’t object to what I am doing, as I have had news that my mother has died and that my father has been killed fighting the infidels, while one of my brothers has died of a fatal sting and the other of a fall. It is right for me to weep and grieve.’

When I heard this, I did not tell her what I knew but said: ‘Do what you think proper and I shall not oppose you.’ From the beginning to the end of a whole year she remained miserable and in mourning, and then she said to me: ‘I want you to build me a tomb shaped like a dome beside your palace, which I shall set aside for grief and call the House of Sorrows.’ ‘Do as you please,’ I said, and she built her House of Sorrows, over which was a dome, covering what looked like a tomb. She brought the slave there and installed him in it, but he could no longer be of any service to her. He went on drinking wine, but since the day that I had wounded him he could no longer speak, and he was alive only because his allotted span had not yet come to an end. Every day, morning and evening, my wife would go to the tomb weeping and lamenting for him, and she would give him wine and broth.

Things went on like this until it came to the second year. I had been long-suffering and had paid no attention to her, until one day, when I came to her room unexpectedly, I found her exclaiming tearfully: ‘Why are you absent from my sight, my heart’s delight? Talk to me, O my soul; speak to me, my darling.’ She recited:

If you have found consolation, love has left me no endurance.
My heart loves none but you.
Take my bones and my soul with you wherever you may go,
And where you halt, bury me opposite you.
Call out my name over my grave and my bones will moan in answer,
Hearing the echo of your voice.

Then she went on:

My wishes are fulfilled on the day I am near you,
While the day of my doom is when you turn from me.
I may pass the night in fear, threatened with destruction,
But union with you is sweeter to me than safety.

Next she recited:

If every blessing and all this world were mine,
Together with the empire of the Persian kings,
To me this would not be worth a gnat’s wing,
If my eyes could not look on you.

When she had finished speaking and weeping, I said to her: ‘Cousin, that is enough of sorrow, and more weeping will do you no good.’ ‘Do not try to stop me doing what I must do,’ she said, ‘for in that case, I shall kill myself.’ I said no more and left her to do what she wanted, and she went on grieving, weeping and mourning for a second year and then a third. One day, I went to her when something had put me out of temper and I was tired of the violence of her distress. I found her going towards the tomb beneath the dome, saying: ‘Master, I hear no word from you. Master, why don’t you answer me?’ Then she recited:

Grave, grave, have the beloved’s beauties faded?
And has the brightness and the radiance gone?
Grave, you are neither earth nor heaven for me,
So how is it you hold both sun and moon?

When I heard what she said and the lines she recited, I became even angrier than before and I exclaimed: ‘How long will this sorrow last?’ Then I recited myself:

Grave, grave, has his blackness faded?
And has the brightness and the foulness failed?
Grave, you are neither basin nor a pot,
So how is it you hold charcoal and slime?

When she heard this, she jumped up and said: ‘Damn you, you dog. It was you who did this to me and wounded my heart’s darling. You have caused me pain and robbed him of his youth, so that for three years he has been neither dead nor alive.’ To which I replied: ‘Dirty whore, filthiest of the fornicators and the prostitutes of black slaves, yes, it was I who did that.’ Then I drew my sword and aimed a deadly blow at her, but when she heard what I said and saw that I was intending to kill her, she burst out laughing and said: ‘Off, you dog! What is past cannot return and the dead cannot rise again, but God has given the man who did this to me into my power. Because of him there has been an unquenchable fire in my heart and a flame that cannot be hidden.’

Then, as she stood there, she spoke some unintelligible words and added: ‘Through my magic become half stone and half man.’ It was then that I became as you see me now, unable to stand or to sit, neither dead nor alive. After this, she cast a spell over the whole city, together with its markets and its gardens. It had contained four different groups, Muslims, Christians, Jews and Magians, and these she transformed into fish – the white fish being the Muslims, the red the Magians, the blue the Christians and the yellow the Jews – and she transformed the four islands into four mountains that surround the pool. Every day she tortures me by giving me a hundred lashes with her whip until the blood flows down over my shoulders. Then she dresses me in a hair shirt of the kind that I am wearing on my upper half, over which she places this splendid gown.

The young man then wept and recited:

O my God, I must endure Your judgement and decree,
And if that pleases You, I shall do this.
Tyrants have wronged me and oppressed me here,
But Paradise may be my recompense.
My sufferings have left me in sad straits,
But God’s choice as His favoured Prophet intercedes for me.

The king then turned to the youth and said: ‘Although you have freed me from one worry, you have added another to my cares. Where is the woman and where is the tomb with the wounded slave?’ ‘He is lying in his tomb beneath the dome,’ said the young man, ‘and she is in that chamber opposite the door. She comes out once each day at sunrise, and the first thing she does is to strip me and give me a hundred lashes. I weep and call out but I cannot move to defend myself, and after she has tortured me, she takes wine and broth to the slave. She will come early tomorrow.’ ‘By God, young man,’ said the king, ‘I shall do you a service for which I shall be remembered and which will be recorded until the end of time.’ He then sat talking to him until nightfall, when they both slept.

Close to dawn the king rose, stripped off his clothes, drew his sword and went to where the slave lay, surrounded by candles, lamps, perfumes and unguents. He came up to the slave and killed him with one blow, before lifting him on to his back and throwing him down a well in the palace. After that, he wrapped himself in the slave’s clothes and lay down in the tomb with the naked sword by his side. After an hour, the damned sorceress arrived, but before she entered the tomb, she first stripped her cousin of his clothes, took a whip and beat him. He cried out in pain: ‘The state that I am in is punishment enough for me, cousin; have pity on me.’ ‘Did you have pity on me,’ she asked, ‘and did you leave me, my beloved?’ She beat him until she was tired and the blood flowed down his sides; then she dressed him in a hair shirt under his robe, and went off to carry the slave a cup of wine and a bowl of broth.

At the tomb she wept and wailed, saying: ‘Master, speak to me; master, talk to me.’ She then recited:

How long will you turn away, treating me roughly?
Have I not shed tears enough for you?
How do you intend abandoning me?
If your object is the envious, their envy has been cured.

Shedding tears, she repeated: ‘Master, talk to me.’ The king lowered his voice, twisted his tongue, and speaking in the accent of the blacks, he said: ‘Oh, oh, there is no might and no power except with God, the Exalted, the Omnipotent!’ When she heard this, she cried out with joy and then fainted. When she had recovered, she said: ‘Master, is this true?’ The king, in a weak voice, said: ‘You damned woman, do you deserve that anyone should talk to you or speak with you?’ ‘Why is that?’ she asked. ‘Because all day long you torture your husband, although he cries for help, and from dusk to dawn he stops me from sleeping as he calls out his entreaties, cursing both me and you. He disturbs me and harms me, and but for this I would have been cured. It is this that keeps me from answering you.’ ‘With your permission,’ she replied, ‘I shall release him.’ ‘Do that,’ said the king, ‘and allow me to rest.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ she replied and, after going from the tomb to the palace, she took a bowl, filled it with water and spoke some words over it. As the water boiled and bubbled, like a pot boiling on the fire, she sprinkled her husband with it and said: ‘I conjure you by the words that I have recited, if you are in this state because of my magic, revert from this shape to what you were before.’

A sudden shudder ran through the young man and he rose to his feet, overjoyed at his release, calling out: ‘I bear witness that there is no god but God and that Muhammad is the Apostle of God – may God bless him and give him peace.’ His wife shouted at him, saying: ‘Go, and don’t come back, or else I shall kill you!’ He left her and she went back to the tomb, where she said: ‘Master, come out to me, so that I may see your beautiful form.’ In a weak voice the king replied: ‘What have you done? You have brought me relief from the branch but not from the root.’ ‘My beloved, my black darling,’ she said, ‘what is the root?’ ‘Curse you, you damned woman!’ he replied. ‘It is the people of the city and of the four islands. Every night at midnight the fish raise their heads asking for help and cursing me and you. It is this that stops my recovery. Go and free them quickly and then come back, take my hand and help me to get up, for I am on the road to recovery.’

On hearing these words and thinking that he was the slave, the sorceress was delighted and promised in God’s Name willingly to obey his command. She got up and ran joyfully to the pool, from which she took a little water and spoke some unintelligible words over it. At this the fish danced, lifted their heads and immediately rose up, as the magic spell was removed from the city. It became inhabited again, the merchants buying and selling and each man practising his craft, while the islands were restored to their former state. The sorceress went straight away to the tomb and said to the king: ‘Give me your noble hand, my darling, and get up.’ In a low voice, the king replied: ‘Come to me.’ When she did this he, with the drawn sword in his hand, struck her in the breast as she clung on to him, so that it emerged gleaming from her back. With another blow he cut her in two, and threw the two halves on the ground.

When he came out he found the young man whom she had enchanted standing waiting for him, congratulating him on his escape, kissing his hand and thanking him. The king asked him whether he would prefer to stay in his own city, or to go with him to his. ‘King of the age,’ said the young man, ‘do you know how long a journey it is to your city?’ ‘Two and a half days,’ replied the king. ‘If you have been sleeping,’ said the young man, ‘wake up. Between you and your city is a full year’s worth of hard travelling. You only got here in two and a half days because this place was under a spell. But I shall not part from you for the blink of an eye.’ The king was glad and said: ‘Praise be to God, Who has given you to me. You shall be my son, for all my life I have been granted no other.’

They embraced with great joy and then walked to the palace. Here the young man told his courtiers to make ready for a journey and to collect supplies and whatever was needed. This took ten days, after which the young man and the king set off, the latter being in a fever of anxiety to get back his own city. They travelled with fifty mamluks and magnificent gifts, and their journey continued day and night for a whole year until, as God had decreed their safety, they eventually reached their goal. Word was sent to the vizier that the king had arrived safe and sound, and he, together with his soldiers, who had despaired of him, came to greet him, kissing the ground before him and congratulating him on his safe arrival.

The king then entered the city to take his seat on his throne, and the vizier, on presenting himself and hearing of all that had happened to the young man, added his own congratulations. Then, when things were settled, the king presented gifts to many people and he told the vizier to fetch the man who had brought him the fish and who had been responsible for saving the people of the enchanted city. A messenger was sent to him and when he was brought to the palace, the king presented him with robes of honour and asked him about his circumstances, and whether he had any children. The fisherman replied that he had two daughters and one son. The king sent for them and married one of the girls himself, giving the other to the young man. The fisherman’s son was made treasurer, while the vizier was invested and sent off as ruler of the capital of the Black Islands, the young man’s city. With him were sent the fifty mamluks who had come with the king, and he was given robes of honour to take to the emirs of the city. He kissed the king’s hands and started out immediately, while the king remained with the young man. The fisherman, meanwhile, had become the richest man of his age, while his daughters remained as wives of kings until they died.

[Nights 3–9]