Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

He heard the muffled tread of slippers. Then Zanuba appeared at the door in a white dress decorated with red roses. She wore a spangled sash and was bareheaded, and her hair was arranged in two thick braids that hung down her back. He greeted her… erect, smiling, and optimistic because of the care she had taken to adorn herself. She acknowledged his presence with a smile and motioned for him to sit down. She took a place on the sofa halfway down the wall on his right, as she said with mild astonishment, "Welcome. What a surprise!"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad smiled and asked, "What kind of surprise, I wonder?"

Kaisitig her eyebrows enigmatically, with no hint as to whether she was in earnest or in jest, she replied, "Pleasant, of course."

"Since we've allowed our feet to carry ushere," he reflected, "we must put up with whatever style of flirtation she chooses, whether delicate or heavy-handed."

He sc rutinized her body and face calmly, as though to isolate in them the features that had tormented him and played havoc with his dignity.

They were both silent until she turned to look at him. Although she saic. nothing, the motion of her head suggested a polite inquiry, as if saying, "We're at your service."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad asked her slyly, "Will we have to wait long for the sultana? Hasn't she finished dressing yet?"

She gave him a strange look, narrowed her eyes, and then said, "The sultana's not at home."

Pretending to be amazed, he inquired, "Where do you suppose she is?"

Shaking her head and smiling mysteriously, she answered, "Your guess is as good as mine."

He thought about her reply a little and then said, "I would have supposed she kept you informed of her whereabouts."

She waved her hand modestly and said, "You think too highly of us". Then, laughing, she continued: "The time of military rule is over. If you want, you're in a much better position to keep abreast of her activities than I am."

"Me?"

"Why not? Aren't you an old friend of hers?"

Treating her to a deep, eloquent, smiling look, he said, "An old friend and a stranger are much the same. I wonder if your former friends keep up with you?"

She raised her right shoulder and made a face, proclaiming, "I have no friends, neither old nor new."

He started toying with one end of his mustache and responded, "Talk like that would only fool a person totally lacking in sense. A man with any wits about him could not imagine men seeing you and not rushing to become your friends."

"That's what gracious men like you might imagine, but that's all it is figments of your imagination. You provide the evidence that I'm right. Although you're an old friend of this house, were you ever moved to provide me with a share of that friendship?"

He frowned in confusion. After some hesitation he said, "At that time I was… I mean, there were circumstances…"

She snapped her fingers and said sarcastically, "Perhaps it was those same circumstances, alas, that have kept the others away from me too."

In a quick, theatrical gesture he reared back against the sofa. Then he looked down his large nose at her, shaking his head as though asking God to rescue him. Finally he commented, "You're a puzzle. I hereby confess that I'm helpless before you."

She hid the smile his praise had inspired and pretended to be astonished as she said, "I absolutely do not understand what you mean. It's clear that we're mountains apart. The important thing is that you said you came to see my aunt. Is there any message I can give her when she returns?"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed briefly. Then he replied, "Tell her, 'Ahmad Abd al-Jawad came to complain about me and didn't find you in.'"

"To complain about me? What have I done?"

"Tell her that I came to gripe about the harsh treatment you meted out to me. It's not becoming to a beautiful woman."

"What a perfect remark for a man who makes everything grist for his jokes and banter…."

He sat up straight and said earnestly, "God forbid that I should make you the subject of my jokes or banter. I'm serious about my complaint. I think you understand the allusion perfectly well, but are flirting the way beautiful women do. They have every right to flirt, but they also have a duty to show mercy."

She pursed her lips and said, "Amazing!"

"It's not amazing at all. Do you remember what happened yesterday in the shop of Ya'qub the goldsmith? Was this stiff reception all that a person merits who is as proud of your friendship as I am and who has known you for as long? I wish, for example, that you had appealed to me to assist you in your negotiations with the goldsmith. I would have liked for you to give me a chance to put my expertise to work for you or for you to go even one step further and leave the whole matter to me, as though the bracelet were mine or its owner my good friend…."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows in confusion. Then she said tersely, "Thanks."

He breathed in deeply, filling his wide chest. "A man like me is not satisfied with thanks," he said eagerly. "What good does it do a hungry man you turn away to tell him, 'May God provide'? A hunapy man wants something to eat, food that's tasty and appealing."

She folded her arms across her breast and pretended to be astonished. Mockingly she asked, "Are you hungry, my master, sir? We have mallow greens and rabbit that will melt in your mouth."

He laughed loudly and said, "Fine! It's a deal. Mallow greens and rabbit supplemented by a glass of whiskey… then we'll amuse ourselves with some lute music and dancing and stretch out together for an hour while we digest the food."

She waved her hand at him as though to tell him to back off. Then she said, "My God! If we don't speak up, he'll try to bring in his donkey too. Keep your distance."

He folded the fingers of his right hand into a fist, which looked like a tightly puckered mouth. He began to raise and lower it deliberately, as he said oratorically, "Girl, don't waste precious time in talk."

Shaking her head, she replied proudly and flirtatiously, "You should say rather, 'Don't waste valuable time with middle-aged men.'"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad rubbed his broad chest with the palm of his hand in a gesture of friendly challenge. She shook her shoulders laughingly and said, "Even if…"

" 'Even if? What a baby you are! I won't rest easy till I teach you what you need to learn. Fetch the mallow greens, rabbit, whiskey, lute, and the sash for your dance outfit. Come on. Let's go!"

Bending the index finger of her left hand, she placed it by her left eyebrow as she wiggled the other one. She inquired, "Aren't you afraid the sultana will take us by surprise?"

"Never fear. The sultana won't return tonight."

She gave him a sharp, suspicious look and asked, "How do you know?"

He realized that he had said more than he should have and for a time almost fell prey to confusion. He rescued himself by saying adroitly, "The sultana would not stay out this late except for an emergency requiring her to stay over till morning."

She gazed at his face for a long time without speaking. Then she shook her head in a clearly ironic way and said with complete assurance, "How cunning middle-aged men are! Everything about them grows weaker except their guile. Do you think I'm a fool? Certainly not, by your life! I know the whole story."

He began playing uneasily with one end of his mustache again. He asked her, "What do you know?"

"Everything!"

She paused a little to increase his discomfort. Finally she continued: "Do you remember the day you sat in the coffeehouse of al-Sayyid Ali and peeked through the window? At that time your eye stared so intensely at the wall of our house that you dug a hole in it. When I got in the wagon with the other members of the troupe I asked myself, 'Do you suppose he'll follow along behind us yelling like a kid?' But you were craftier and waited for a better opportunity."