Historical Tales and Anecdotes of the Time of the Early Khalifahs/How Yunus the Scribe sold his Slave-girl

by Muhammad Diyab al-Atlidi

HOW YÛNUS THE SCRIBE SOLD HIS
SLAVE-GIRL.

TRANSLATOR'S PREFATORY NOTE.

Abuʾl-Fáraj-ʾAly was a member of the tribe of Kuraish, and a descendant of Marwân-ibn-Muhammad, the last of the ʾOmeyyade Kalîfahs. His family inhabited Ispahân, but he passed his early youth in Baghdâd, and became the most distinguished scholar and most eminent author of that city. His "Kitâb-el-Aghâny," whence this tale is taken, is considered as unequalled. It is said that he was fifty years in compiling it, and that when the Wazîr, Sahib-ibn-Abbâd (who was looked upon as the wonder of his age for wisdom and learning), received it, he found that he could dispense with the thirty camel-loads of books on literary subjects which he was in the habit of taking with him when travelling or changing residence; the "Kitâb-el-Aghâny" being sufficient for him. Abul-Fáraj wrote many other works, and composed much poetry. He was born A.H. 284 (A.D. 897–8), and died at Baghdâd A.H. 356 (A.D. 967). Previous to his death, his fine intellect became disordered.

 

ABUʾL-FÁRAJ-EL-ISBAHÂNY, in his Kitâb-el-Aghâny (Book of Songs), says, Yûnus the scribe relates as follows.

During the reign of Hishâm-ibn-ʾAbd-el-Málik, I set set off for Syria, taking with me a slave-girl musician, to whom I had taught everything required by her art, and whose value to me I estimated at a hundred thousand dirhems. And when we drew near Syria, the caravan halted at a pool of water, by the side of which I dismounted, spread the food I had with me, and brought out a flask of wine. And whilst I was thus occupied, behold! a young man of fair countenance and form, mounted upon a chesnut horse, came by, and two attendants with him. And he saluted me, and asked, "Wilt thou receive me as thy guest?"

I replied, "Certainly;" and held his stirrup while he dismounted.

Then he said, "Give me to drink of thy wine."

So I gave him to drink, and he added, "Will it please thee to sing me a song?"

So I sang to him,

 

Beauties, never before united, in her are met together;
And for love of her, tears and sleeplessness are sweet to me.

 

And he praised this warmly, and begged for a repetition of it many times; and then said, "Speak to thy slave-girl, and let her sing."

So I commanded her, and she sang,

 

A young girl bewilders my heart with her beauties;
For she is not a reed, and she is not the sun, nor is she the moon.

 

And this also pleased him greatly, and he asked several times to have it repeated. And he did not quit his position until time for our evening prayer, after which he inquired, "What brings thee to this our town?"

"I want to sell this slave-girl," I replied.

"And how much demandest thou as her price?" he asked.

I answered, "Enough to pay my debts and to put my affairs in good order."

"Thirty thousand?" said he.

"By favour of Allâh, that and more," I replied.

"Will forty thousand satisfy thee?" he asked.

"That would pay my debts," said I, "but my hands would remain empty."

Then he said, "Verily I will take her for fifty thousand dirhems; and besides that, thou shalt have a rich robe, and the expenses of thy journey, and I will make thee a partner in my business so long as I live."

"Surely I have sold her to thee!" I cried.

Then he asked, "If I take her with me, wilt thou trust me to send this to thee in the morning; or shall she stay with thee until it is brought to thee to-morrow?"

Now the wine had overpowered me, and the consequent confusion and bashfulness caused me to say, "To be sure! I will certainly trust thee. Take her,and may Allâh make thee happy with her!"

So he said to one of his young men, "Place her upon thy animal, and get up behind, and take her away." And then he himself mounted, and took leave of me, and departed.

And he had been scarcely an instant out my sight ere I was conscious of the mistake and error into which I had fallen. And I cried, "What have I done? I have parted with my slave-girl to a man with whom I have no acquaintance, nor do I even know who he is; and supposing I did know him, where is he to be found?"

So I sat down thinking over this, until the dawn prayer-hour. And my companions went into Damascus, but I remained behind, perplexed and undecided what I should do. And the sun beat down upon me, and I hated the place. And I thought of entering Damascus, but afterwards I said, "It would not do for the messenger to come and not find me, for then verily I should have committed a second error against myself." So I sat down in the shade of a wall hard by. And when the day was far spent, behold! one of the two youths who had been with the young man drew near. And I never remember to have felt greater pleasure at anything than my pleasure that moment on seeing him.

And he said to me, "O my lord! I am late in reaching thee."

But I said not a word to him of what I had suffered.

Then he asked me, "Didst thou recognize the man?"

I said, "No."

"He is the heir-apparent," said he, "el-Walîd-ibn-Hishâm."^[1] Upon hearing which, I remained silent.

Then he said, "Rise, and mount."

And behold! there was a riding-horse with him, and I mounted, and we journeyed together until we arrived at his master's house. And I entered, and lo! there was the slave-girl, who sprang towards me, and saluted me. And I asked, "How hast thou fared?"

She replied, "He lodged me in this little room, and ordered for me everything I required."

So I sat with her awhile, and then, behold! one of his servants came to me, and said, "Come." So I got up, and he led me into the presence of his master. And lo! he was my companion of yesterday, and was now seated upon his chair of state.

And he asked, "Who art thou?"

"Yûnus the scribe," I answered.

"Thou art welcome," said he. "By Allâh! I have indeed been desirous to see thee, for thy fame has reached me. And how didst thou pass the night?"

"Excellently, may Allâh preserve thee!" I said.

"But," he continued, "perhaps thou didst blame thyself for thy yesterday's work, and didst say, 'I have given up my slave to a man whom I do not know, with whose very name I am unacquainted, and in ignorance even of the place to which he belongs.'"

"God forbid," I cried, "that I should take blame to myself, O Prince ! Had I even offered this slave-girl as a gift unto the Prince, it had been one too poor and mean and worthless."

Then he said, "By Allâh! I nevertheless blamed myself for taking her from thee, and thought, 'Here is a man from a strange country who does not know me, and verily I have come upon him at unawares, and have caused him to act foolishly by my eagerness to take away the girl!' Now dost thou remember what was the agreement between us?"

"Yes," said I.

"Thou didst sell the slave-girl for fifty thousand dirhems," he said.

"It was so," I replied.

Then he said, "Ho! slave, bring the money."

So he brought it, and placed it in his master's hands, who then said, "Bring a thousand dinârs, O slave!"

And he brought them. And then the Prince said, "Here, slave! bring another five hundred dinârs." And when he came with them, the Prince said to me, "This the price of the slave-girl; collect it together. And this thousand dinârs is for thy good opinion of us; and this five hundred dinârs is for the expenses of thy journey, and to buy something for thy family. Art thou satisfied?"

I replied, "I am satisfied." And I kissed his hand, and said, "By Allâh! thou hast filled my hand and my eye."

Presently he cried, "By Allâh! I have not been to see her, nor appeased my craving for her singing. Bring her to me."

So she came, and he commanded her to be seated; and when she had sat down, he said to her, "Sing." So she recited these lines:

 

Of one who unites every single perfection
How sweet the embrace, the caress!
All beauties there may be 'mongst Arabs and strangers,
But none blends all like thee, O my fawn!
Reveal thee, O beautiful! unto thy lover,
Or by thy promise, or like a dream-vision.
Sweet for thy sake are abasement and scorn,
And good in my sight is my sleepless night;
But I am not the first through thee driven mad—
Say, how many men ere me hast thou slain?
As my portion in this world, thou wouldst content me,
For thou'rt dearer to me than my soul or my wealth.

 

And the Prince applauded loudly, and thanked me for her excellent training and teaching. Then he cried, "Ho, slave! bring a riding animal, saddled and accoutred for his mounting, and a mule to carry his baggage and his necessaries." Then he addressed me, saying, "O Yûnus! shouldst thou learn that this empire has really descended to me, return hither, and by Allâh! I will certainly fill thy hand and raise thy position, and will appoint thee for my musician so long as I live."

So I took my money and departed. And when the Khalîfate came down to el-Walîd, I journeyed to him, and by Allâh! he fulfilled his promise, and increased my dignity. And my condition with him was most happy, and I was comfortable in my post, and verily my means were extended and my wealth increased. And villages and lands became mine, which are ample to support me, and will suffice those who come after me. And I remained with him until he was killed. May God pardon him!"

 

1. This is another careless misstatement of historical fact. El-Walîd was the heir-apparent, but he was the nephew, and not the son, of Hishâm; the Khalîfah, Yezîd-ibn-ʾAbd-el-Málik having nominated his brother Hishâm to succeed him, on condition that upon the death of the last-named prince, his own son, el-Walîd, should be called to the throne.