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  “I trust,” she said, “that God has indeed chosen for me. I have inquired most closely about ʿAbd Allah and find he does not suit me, does not meet my requirements. Those I consulted differed in their opinion. Some advised me against marrying him, while others urged me to proceed. It was their disagreement I found displeasing.”

  When they told ʿAbd Allah what she had said, he realized he had been deceived.

  “God’s will,” he said, “is sovereign, and what is destined cannot be averted. Even when a man has grown wise, when his mind has found serenity and his judgment been nourished and proved, no opinion or wile of his can thrust away his fate. Perhaps, though, their present happiness will not last. Perhaps the consequences will haunt them.”

  Word of what had been done to him spread everywhere, becoming common knowledge among the people. “Muʿawiya,” they said, “tricked him into divorcing his wife, when all he wanted was to have her for his son.”

  There was no question they found his deed hateful.

  The ruse had indeed worked to perfection, but fate took a contrary hand. When Zainab’s period of waiting was over,1 Muʿawiya sent Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ to Iraq to ask for her hand for his son Yazid. Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ journeyed as far as Kufa, where al-Husayn ibn ʿAli was then living, and turned aside to visit al-Husayn. When he was there with him, al-Husayn asked him why he had come [to Iraq].

  “Muʿawiya,” Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ told him, “has sent me to ask for the hand of Zainab bint Ishaq, for his son Yazid.”

  “I myself,” al-Husayn told him, “wished to marry her, and I had planned, when her time of waiting was over, to send to ask for her hand. What held me back was the need to find someone like you as my envoy, and now God has sent you. Do, I ask you, request her hand on his behalf and mine, and let her decide which one of us God wishes her to take. May God be merciful to you. This trust will weigh upon you till you fulfill it. I will give as large a dowry as Muʿawiya will do for his son.”

  Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ agreed to this.

  “Madam,” he told Zainab, when he had entered her presence, “God has created all things with His power and formed them with His might; has fashioned the fate of all things and accorded every fate a reason. None can evade God’s destined will or elude His decision. It may be that what happened to you, the fate that befell you in being divorced from ʿAbd Allah ibn Salam, will bring you no harm but rather great profit. For the prince of this nation, the son of its king and his successor to the throne, Yazid ibn Muʿawiya, has sent me to ask for your hand. And so, too, has al-Husayn, son of the daughter of the Prophet, peace be upon him, and master of the young men of Paradise. You know the greatness of these two lofty persons, their luster and their goodness. I have come to ask for your hand. Choose which of them you wish to take.”

  She was silent for a long time.

  “Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ,” she said at last, “had this thing come upon me in your absence, I would have sent messengers to you to ask your opinion and would have made no decision without you. Now that you yourself are the messenger, I shall place the matter in your hands and pass on the decision, after God, to you. Choose for me now, whichever is more pleasing to you, and, as God is our witness, discharge this after all due reflection, letting no personal feeling hold you back from a just judgment. You are not ignorant of their qualities, nor are you insensible to the task with which I am entrusting you.”

  “Madam,” he answered, “my mission is only to let you know of these things. The choice is for you to make.”

  “God forgive you,” she said, “I am the daughter of your friend and brother and cannot act without your help. Do not hold back, for fear of anyone, from speaking the truth on this matter. It is your duty now to fulfill the trust I have placed in you. It is God we should truly fear and please. He knows us all and is merciful to us all.”

  When he saw no course but to give his own opinion, he said:

  “Daughter, the son of the daughter of the Prophet, peace be upon him, is nearer to my heart and more suitable in my eyes. Only God, even so, knows which of the two is better for you.”

  “He is the one I choose,” she said, “the one I wish for and accept.”

  Al-Husayn married her accordingly, bestowing a large dowry on her. When Muʿawiya heard of this, he was enraged and blamed Abu ʾl-Dardaʾ in scathing terms.

  “If a man sends a blind simpleton,” he said, “he will end up with the opposite of what he wanted!”

  Muʿawiya then dismissed ʿAbd Allah ibn Salam and cut off all his income, because ʿAbd Allah had maligned him and accused him of trickery. And he went on treating him with relentless harshness till ʿAbd Allah, his wealth much reduced, could endure no more and returned to Iraq.

  Before ʿAbd Allah divorced Zainab, he had entrusted her with a large amount of money and a great quantity of gems. Now, though, he suspected she might deny this, given that he had treated her so badly, divorcing her for no fault of her own.

  He met with al-Husayn and greeted him.

  “You know,” he told him, “of what has taken place between me and Zainab. But I left some money in her care and did not take it back.”

  He went on to speak highly of her, then said:

  “I would ask you to remind her of this and urge her to return my money.”

  When al-Husayn went to her, he told her:

  “ ʿAbd Allah ibn Salam came to me, and he was profuse in his praise of you, making clear what a good companion you had been and how honestly you had always behaved. This pleased me and made me happy. He mentioned, too, that he had entrusted some money to you. I ask you to justify his trust and return his money to him. He has done no more than speak the truth and ask for his right.”

  “What he said is true,” she replied. “He entrusted me with some money, I do not know how much. I will return it to him sealed as he gave it.”

  Al-Husayn commended her for this.

  “It would be best, I think,” he went on, “for me to have him come in to you, so you can show him the sum entire, just as he gave it to you.”

  He then met with ʿAbd Allah.

  “She did not deny possession of your money,” he said, “and told me it is still sealed as you gave it. Go in to her and take your money back in person.”

  “Will you not,” ʿAbd Allah asked, “charge some other person to bring my money to me?”

  “No,” al-Husayn said, “you must receive it from her as you gave it.”

  Al-Husayn went in to her chamber.

  “Here is ʿAbd Allah,” he said. “He has come to redeem the trust he placed in you.”

  She produced the bag of money and placed it in ʿAbd Allah’s hands.

  “Here,” she said, “is your money.”

  ʿAbd Allah thanked her and praised her. When al-Husayn left at this point, ʿAbd Allah broke the seal on his bag and tried to give her some of the money it contained.

  “Take this,” he said, “as a small gift from myself to you.”

  The two burst into tears at the disaster that had befallen them, till at last their voices could be heard outside. At this al-Husayn, filled with compassion and tenderness, went in to them.

  “As God is my witness,” he said, “I divorce her. God, You know I married her neither for her money nor for her beauty, but only to give her the chance to return to her husband.”

  ʿAbd Allah thereupon asked her to give al-Husayn back the dowry he had paid. She agreed to this, but al-Husayn would not take it.

  “All I wish for,” he said, “is God’s recompense. That is better for me.”

  When her period of waiting was over, ʿAbd Allah remarried her. As for Yazid ibn Muʿawiya, God had forestalled his marriage to her.

  From al-Nuwairi, Nihayat al-Arab (The Highest Aspiration); in Qisas al-ʿArab (Stories of the Arabs), vol. 4.

  1. See note on page 88.

  24

  Caliph ʿUmar and the Soldier’s Wife

  ʿAbd al-Razzaq said, following Ibn Juraij:

  [Caliph] ʿUmar [ibn al-Khattab], m
ay God be pleased with him, was making one of his rounds of Mecca by night [to assure himself all was well with his subjects]. He heard a woman say:

  The night is long and dark,

  And no beloved with whom to divert myself.

  But for the fear of God beyond compare,

  The sides of this bed would be squeaking.

  “What is troubling you?” ʿUmar asked her.

  “Months back,” she told him, “you sent away my beloved husband. Now I long for him.”

  “Have you done any wrong?” ʿUmar asked her.

  “God forbid!” she replied.

  “Restrain yourself,” ʿUmar told her. “It will be for a short time only, till a message reaches him.”

  He sent for the man. Then he entered the room of his daughter Hafsa, may God be pleased with her.

  “I have come,” he said, “to consult you on a matter that has troubled me greatly. I wish you to resolve it for me. How long can a woman stay without feeling the need of her husband?”

  Hafsa, bowing her head in modesty, made no answer.

  “God,” ʿUmar told her then, “does not hold back from the truth.”

  Hafsa made a sign with her hands, to show that the time would be three

  or four months. ʿUmar thereupon decreed that the armies should be kept from home for no longer than four months.1

  From The Life of the Prophet’s Companions (Hayat al-Sahaba), vol. 1, ed. Muhammad Yusuf al-Kandahlawi (Beirut: Dar al-Maʿrifa, 1986).

  1. This early acknowledgment of women’s sexual rights raises the question whether this was perhaps the earliest official acknowledgment of such rights, at least among adherents to monotheistic religions.

  25

  Al-Akhtal Imprisoned in a Church

  Ishaq ibn ʿAbd Allah said:1

  As a young man I went with my father to Damascus, and there I wandered among its churches and mosques. As I entered one of the churches, I found al-Akhtal imprisoned there and couldn’t take my eyes off him. He asked about me and was told of my lineage. Then he addressed me.

  “Young man,” he said, “you’re of noble birth. I wish to ask a favor of you.”

  “Your request is granted,” I answered.

  “The priest,” he said, “has imprisoned me here. Would you ask him to set me free?”

  I went to the priest and told him who I was. He welcomed and honored me. Then I said:

  “I have a request to make of you.”

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  “To free al-Akhtal,” I replied.

  “God save you from such as he,” the priest said. “A young man like you shouldn’t speak on his behalf. He’s a vagabond, speaks ill of people’s honor, and makes mock of them.”

  Still I insisted, and, reluctantly, he went with me, leaning on his cane. He stopped in front of al-Akhtal, then raised the cane.

  “Enemy of God!” he said. “Will you return to vilifying people and casting slurs on honorable women?”

  Al-Akhtal promised repeatedly, his manner humble and downcast:

  “No, I will leave my ways.”

  “Abu Malik,” I told him then, “people stand in awe of you and the caliph

  honors you. Your status is a lofty one among the people. Yet you humble yourself before this man and obey him?”

  “It’s religion,” he answered. “It’s religion!”

  From al-Asbahani, Kitab al-Aghani (Books of Songs), 8; in Qisas al-ʿArab (Stories of the Arabs), vol. 1.

  1. Al-Akhtal (Abu Malik, Ghiyath ibn Ghauth of the tribe of Taghlib, 19–90/640–708) was one of the major poets of the Umayyad period.

  26

  A Miserly Governor

  Ziyad ibn ʿAbd Allah al-Harithi, a man of the most miserly and harsh ways, was governor of Medina. One day, one of the secretaries sent him several baskets of food, elegantly covered, which arrived after he had eaten.

  “What are these?” he asked.

  “Baskets of food,” he was told, “sent by the secretary such and such.”

  “People always send things when it’s too late!” he said, highly vexed. “Khaitham ibn Malik [his chief of police], go and invite the people of the suffa1 here to eat this.”

  Khaitham sent the guards to bring them. Then the messenger who had brought the baskets said to the governor:

  “If it pleases you, have the baskets opened and see what there is inside them.”

  The governor ordered they be opened. There revealed was splendid food—chicken, kids, fish, and khabisa,2 along with sweetmeats.

  “Take these baskets away,” he said then.

  When the people of the suffa arrived, he told his chief of police:

  “Khaitham, give each of them ten lashes, for I have heard they recite the Prophet’s traditional teachings in his holy Mosque.”

  From al-Nuwairi, Nihayat al-Arab (The Highest Aspiration), 3; in Qisas al-ʿArab (Stories of the Arabs), vol. 4.

  1. Suffa: originally a place at the back of the Prophet’s mosque where poor and homeless followers took shelter.

  2. Khabisa is a confection made with semolina and pomegranate.

  27

  All Lies

  Al-Jahiz said:

  Muhammad ibn Yasir told me the following of a governor in Persia: While [this governor] was busy with his accounts and affairs, having removed himself as far as he could, a poet came to him and recited poetry in his praise and to his glory. When he had finished, the governor told him, “Very good” and ordered his secretary to give the man ten thousand dirhams. The poet was transported with delight.

  When the governor saw this, he told him: “I see this instruction has moved you greatly.” He then ordered his secretary to give him twenty thousand dirhams, and the poet became almost crazed with glee. When the governor saw his happiness was doubled, he said: “I see your joy doubles as I double my gift.” Then he indicated to his secretary to give the man forty thousand.

  The poet’s heart almost stopped from happiness. When he had recovered himself, he told the governor:

  “You are a most generous man, and I know, as long as you see my happiness ever rising, you will raise the reward. But this I cannot accept, for it would be base ingratitude.”

  With that he asked God to reward the governor and left.

  It is said the governor’s secretary approached him, saying:

  “God be praised, this man would have been happy to have forty dirhams from you, and yet you instruct me to give him forty thousand?”

  “Woe to you,” the governor answered. “Do you mean to give him anything?”

  “Is there some way, then,” the man asked, “not to carry out your instruction?”

  “Fool!” the governor rejoined. “This man made us happy with some words, and we made him happy with some words. He claimed I was more handsome than the moon, stronger than the lion; that my tongue was sharper than the sword, my judgments more piercing than the spearhead. Is anything he placed in my hand of lasting use? Don’t we know he was lying? But he brought us happiness when he lied to us; and we brought him happiness when we ordered rewards for him, even though a mere lie was intended. When all is said and done, lies [were exchanged] for lies and words for words. But to compensate lies with truth, and words with actions, that would be a loss unheard of before.”

  From al-Jahiz, The Misers (Al-Bukhalaʾ), Dar al-Kutub, 1; in Qisas al-ʿArab (Stories of the Arabs), vol. 4.

  28

  Two Great Musicians

  Ziryab learned music at the hands of Ishaq al-Mawsili1 in Baghdad. Often he took Ishaq’s songs by stealth and was guided to a serious understanding of the art, as well as possessing a fine voice, and he came to excel Ishaq without Ishaq’s realizing this—until Ishaq suggested to [Haroun] al-Rashid that he would send him an unknown musician, who knew the art of music well but had not yet gained fame. Ishaq told him of this student:

  “He is one of your freed slaves, and I have heard he has good manners and a gentle heart. He renders tunes all of his own invention
. He will, I believe, come to be an important musician.”

  “This is what I seek,” al-Rashid said. “Bring him, it may be he has what I require.”

  So Ishaq brought him. When al-Rashid spoke to him, Ziryab always answered in the most composed terms, with the most succinct phrases. Al-Rashid asked him if he was skilled in music.

  “Yes,” Ziryab replied, “I know well all that others know well, and most of what I know well, they do not. This skill should be kept for your court, reserved for you alone. If you will give me leave, I can sing for you what no ear has heard before.”

  Al-Rashid ordered Ishaq’s lute to be brought in, but Ziryab would not take it.

  “I have,” he said, “a lute I made myself, fashioned as I saw fit, and can use no other. It is at the door, and, if the Prince of the Faithful will give me leave, I shall ask for it to be brought in.”

  Al-Rashid gazed at Ziryab’s lute (which was very like the one brought in to him).

  “And what held you back,” he asked, “from using the lute of your mentor?”

  “If,” Ziryab answered, “my lord would like to hear my mentor’s singing, that I will do on his lute; but if he wishes to hear my singing, then it must be accompanied by my own lute.”

  “To me,” al-Rashid said, “the two seem exactly the same.”

  “Sire,” Ziryab answered, “their appearance would suggest so. But my lute, though fashioned to the same proportions and using the same wood, weighs only one third of his lute.”

  Thereupon he described his own lute in a way that aroused al-Rashid’s admiration. He ordered Ziryab to sing, and he sang:

  Oh King, oh blessed King,

  People come seeking you.

  When he had sung for al-Rashid, the latter was quite delighted and told Ishaq:

  “By God, had I not known you to be truthful, and heard you say you had never heard this before, I should have punished you for leaving this man unknown to me. Take him and care for him till I have time [to attend to the matter]. I have good intentions for him.”