Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

Ibrahim al-Far lamented the passing of the copper trade's golden age, during the war. With a thick tongue he told them, 'Back then you would kiss my hand to get a pound of copper."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad commented, "When you need something from a dog, call him 'mister.'"

Zubayda complained about how drunk she was and rose to try to walk it off, going back and forth. They began to clap to keep time with her staggering steps. They called out in unison the words used to encourage children to walk: "A step at a time. Cross over the doorstep…. A step at a time. Cross over the doorstep". Wine paralyzes the organ that registers sorrow.

Jalila murmured, "That's enough for now". She rose and left the room. She went down the hall to the two cabins, which were opposite each other. She made for the cabin on the Nile side and entered it. Soon they could hear the creaking of her bed as it received her enormous body. What Jalila had done appealed to Zubayda. She followed her lead and headed for the other cabin. The creaking that her bed emitted was even louder.

Ibrahim al-Far said, "The bed has spoken."

From the first cabin a voice made its way to them, singing in imitation of the husky quality of the renowned singer Munira al-Mahdiya: "Darling, come."

Muhammad Iffat got up and answered in song as well: "I'm coming."

Ibrahim al-Far looked questioningly at Ahmad Abd al-Jawad. Quoting a saying of the Prophet, al-Sayyid Ahmad told him, "Unless you're embarrassed, do whatever you want."

The man rose and replied, "There's no need for bashfulness on a houseboat."

The coast was clear. This was the moment for which he had been waiting so long. The young girl put the lute aside. She sat cross-legged with the end of her dress draped over her legs. They silently exchanged a glance. Then she stared off into space. The silence was so charged with electricity that it was unbearable. When she stood up suddenly, he asked, "Where are you going?"

Hurrying through the door, she replied, "The bathroom."

He stood up too and took a seat next to hers. Picking up the lute, he began to strum on it while he wondered whether there was a third cabin.

"Your heart shouldn't pound that way, as though the English soldier were herding you ahead of him in the dark like that night after you'd been with Maryam's mother. Do you remember? Don't dwell on that, for it's a painful memory. She's returning from the bathroom. How fresh she looks!"

"Do you play the lute?"

"Teach me," he answered with a smile.

"You should stick with the tambourine, for you're expert at that."

He sighed and said, "Those days have vanished. How delightful they were. You were just a child! Why don't you sit down."

"She's almost touching you," he noticed. "How sweet the beginning of the chase is."

"Take the lute and play something for me."

"We've had enough singing, performing, and laughing. Tonighl: I've understood more than ever before why they missed you so much."

He smiled in a pleased way and asked craftily, "But you haven't had enough to drink?"

She agreed and laughed. He sprang like a charger to the table to fetch a half-filled bottle and two glasses. As He sat down he said, "Let's drink together."

"The delightful glutton — her eyes shine with deviltry and magic. &sk her about the third room…. Ask yourself whether it's to be just for one night or an affair. Don't wonder about the consequences. Ahmad Abd al-Jawad, no matter how exalted his stature, opens his arms to the lute player Zanuba. She used to serve you platters of fruit…. But you have a right to be happy as a reward for your fresh beauty. Conceit has never been one of my failings."

He saw that her palm grasping the glass was near his knee. He reached his hand out to caress it. She silently drew it back to her lap without looking at him. He asked himself whether flirting was in order at this late hour, especially when the host was a man like himself and the guest a girl like her. But he did not abandon his amiable tenderness.

He asked her suggestively, "Is there a third bedroom on the houseboat?"

She gestured toward the vestibule. Ignoring his suggestion, she merely answered, "On the other side."

Smiling and twisting his mustache, he asked, "Wouldn't it be big enough for both of us?"

Politely but without flirtatiousness, she answered, "If you feel sleepy, you'll find it quite large enough for you."

As though astonished, he asked her, "What about you?"

In the same tone she said, "I'm comfortable just the way I am."

He inched closer to her, but she got up and placed her glass on the table. Then she went to the sofa opposite him. She sat there with a serious look of silent protest sketched on her face. The man was amazed at her attitude. His enthusiasm waned, and he felt that his prids was under attack. He looked at her with a forced smile and then asked, "Why are you angry?"

She kept silent for a long time, her only response being to fold her arms across her chest.

"I'm asking why you're angry."

She answered tersely, "Don't ask questions to which you already know the answer."

He guffawed abruptly to proclaim his disdain and disbelief Then he rose, filled both glasses, and handed one to her, telling her, "Lighten your spirits."

She took the glass courteously but set it on the table. "Thank you," she murmured.

After retreating to his place he sat back down, raised his glass to his lips, and drained it in one gulp. Then he laughed uproariously.

"Could you have anticipated this surprise? If it were possible to backtrack a quarter of an hour… Zanuba, Zanuba, just plain Zanuba… can you believe it? Don't let yourself be flustered by the blow. Who knows? Perhaps this is the fashion in coquetry now in 1924, you provincial has-been. How have I changed? … Not in any way. It's Zanuba. Isn't that her name? Clearly every man meets at least one woman who resists his advances. Since Zubayda, Jalila, and Maryam's mother are all wild about you, who is there but Zanuba, this dung beetle, to resist you? Endure it to overcome it. In any case the matter's not a catastrophe. Oh, look. See how pretty and firm her leg is. What a solid base she has. You don't think she's really rejected you, do you?"

"Have a drink, sweetheart."

In a voice both polite and determined she replied, "I will when I feel like it."

He fixed his eyes on her. Then he asked suggestively, "When do you think you'll feel like it?"

She frowned in a way that showed she understood his allusion but did not respond.

With a sinking feeling al-Sayyid Ahmad asked, "Doesn't my affection meet with any acceptance?"

Bowing her head to hide her face from his eyes, she begged him, "Won't you stop that?"

He was overcome by a surge of anger, which came in reaction to his sense of being rejected. In astonishment he asked her, "Why did you come here?"

Pointing to the lute lying on the sofa not far from him, she protested, "Because of this."

"Only? … There's no conflict between that and what I'm proposing."

Vexed, she asked him, "Against my will?"

Prey to the disquieting feelings of disappointment and annoyance, he said, "Of course not, but I don't see any reason for you to refuse."

She said coldly, "Perhaps I have some reasons."

He laughed loudly and dryly. Then, exasperated, he said sarcastically, "Maybe you're afraid of losing your virginity."

She glared at him for a long time and then said furiously and vengefully, "I only accept a man I love."

He would have laughed again but restrained himself. He was tired of these sad, mechanical laughs. He stretched his hand out to the bottle and impulsively poured himself half a glass. But he left it on the table. He began to look anxiously at the woman, not knowing how to extricate himself from the fix he had created himself "That viper and daughter of a viper only accepts a man she loves," be reflected. "Does that mean anything more than that she falls in love with a different man every night? It will be hard for you to save face after this disaster tonight. The gentlemen are inside, and you're at the mercy of this pampered musician…. Flay her with your tongue…. Kick her…. Shove her into the cabin against her will…. The best thing would be to turn your back on her and leave this place immediately. Our eyes have looks fierce enough to humble proud necks…. How charming hers is. Don't try to dispute her beauty. When a person loses his head, he will surely suffer."