Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

'You!"

The voice from behind made his heart quiver. He quickly turned his eyes from the mammoth female and saw a young woman in a white coat. He could not help but exclaim, "Zanuba!"

They shook hands warmly and she laughed. He suggested they should keep walking to avoid attracting attention. So they strolled along side by side as the crowd swarmed around them. Thus they met again after a long separation. She had only rarely and infrequently crossed his mind after various considerations had distracted him. Yet he found her as beautiful as the day he left her, or possibly even more attractive. What was this new style of clothing she was wearing instead of the traditional black wrap? An invigorating wave of delight spread through him.

She asked, "How are you?"

"Great. And you?"

"Like this."

"Superb, praise God. You've changed the way you dress. I hardly recognized you at first. I still remember how you looked in your wrap when you walked."

"You haven't changed. You don't look older, but you've gained a little weight. That's the only thing."

"Now you're something else! You're a European girl!" He smiled cautiously before adding, "Except the hips come from al-Ghuriya."

"Watch your tongue!"

"You scare me. Have you repented or gotten married?"

"Nothing's beyond God's power."

"Your white coat belies a return to God. As for marriage, it's not farfetched to think a lack of sense would lead you to it someday."

"Watch out. I'm as good as married."

He laughed. As they turned into the Muski, he said, "Exactly like me."

"But you really are married. Isn't that so?"

"How did you learn that?" Then, reconsidering, he added, "Oh, I forgot that all our secrets eventually get to you."

He laughed again suggestively. Smiling mysteriously, she said, "You mean at the sultana's house?"

"Or my father's. Hasn't their affection continued?"

"Sort of."

"Everything with you is tentative now. Well, I'm sort of married. I mean I'm married and looking for a girlfriend."

She brushed a fly from her face, and the gold bracelets on her arm jingled. She said, "I'm a girlfriend who's looking for a marriage."

"A girlfriend? Who's the lucky son of a…"

She interrupted him, cautioning, "Don't insult people. He's an important man."

Eyeing her sarcastically, he said, "Important! Ha-ha, Zanuba, I wish I could ram my horn into you."

"Do you remember the last time we met?"

'Oh, my son Ridwan's six now. That must have been about seven years ago."

"A lifetime..."

"While still alive, one should never despair of meeting again."

Or of parting."

"You seem to have shrugged off loyalty with your black wrap."

She frowned at him and said, "Ox, who are you to talk about fidelity?"

He was pleased to see her become this familiar, for it encouraged his ambitions. He replied, "God only knows how delighted I`am to see you again. I've thought of you frequently. But that's the way the world is."

"The world ofwomen, huh?"

Pretending to be upset, he said, "The world of death, the world of troubles."

"You seem to bear your troubles well. Mules could certainly envy your health."

"If only the beautiful eye isn't envious…"

"Are you afraid of the evil eye? You're as tall and broad as Abd al-Halim al-Masri."

He laughed conceitedly. After falling silent for a time, he asked in a new, serious tone, "Where were you going?"

"Why does a woman come to al-Tarbi'a Alley if not to shop? Or do you think everyone's like you with only one thought in life — sex?"

"Falsely accused, by God."

"You, innocent? When I caught sight of you, your eyes were assaulting a woman as big as a city gate."

"No. I was lost in thought and totally unaware of what I was looking at."

"You! My advice for anyone wishing to find you is to walk along al-Tarbi'a and look for the largest woman. I guarantee that he'll definitely find you stuck to her like a tick on a dog."

"Woman, your tongue gets more vicious every day."

"May God's holy name protect yours too."

"Never mind that. Let's stick to essentials. Where are you going now?

"I'm shopping. Then I'll go home."

He fell silent for a moment, as if hesitating. Then he said, "What would you think about us spending some time together?"

She glanced at him with playful black eyes and replied, "I have a jealous man to consider."

Ignoring her objection, he continued: "A nice place where we can have a couple of drinks."

In a louder voice than before she answered, "I told you there's a jealous man in my life."

Paying no attention to that comment, he added, "The Tout-Va-Bien … what do you think? It's a charming place and respectable. I'll get this taxi."

A mumbled protest escaped her. Then she asked with a disapproving tone not matched by her facial expression, "By force?" She glanced at her wristwatch, and this new gesture almost made him laugh. In a voice that laid down the law, she said, "Just don't make me late. It's six now, and I must be home before eight."

As the taxi set off, Yasin wondered whether anyone had noticed them in al-Tarbi'a or the Muski. He shrugged his shoulders disdainfully and with the handle of his ivory fly whisk shoved back his fez, which was slanting down over his right eyebrow. What did he care? Maryam was alone in the world. She did not have a savage guardian like Muhammad Iffat, who had wrecked the first marriage Yasin had established. His own father was a suave man who realized that Yasin was no longer an inexperienced child to be punished in the courtyard of the old house.

They took seats opposite each other at a table in the garden of the Tout-Va-Bien. The bar was crowded with men and women. The player piano was belting out its monotonous pieces, and the aroma of grilled meat came with the evening breeze from a far corner. She was so ill at ease that he realized it was the first time she had ever patronized a public establishment. He felt a sharp delight. The next moment he was certain that he was in the grips of a genuine longing, not just a transient lust. Those bygone days with her seemed the happiest of his whole life.

He ordered a bottle of cognac and then some grilled meat. His cheeks were growing flushed, and his black hair, parted in the middle like his father's, was visible when he removed his fez. On noticing the resemblance, Zanuba smiled faintly. He naturally did not understand why. For the first time ever he was sitting with a woman. in a tavern outside of the Wajh al-Birka entertainment district. It was also his first amorous adventure subsequent to his second marriage;, with the exception of one indiscretion in Abd al-Khaliq Alley. Aid he did not normally drink good-quality cognac outside his house. He only got first-rate liquor when he purchased bottles to take home for what he termed licit, "medicinal" purposes.

He filled the two glasses with pride and relief. Then, raising his, he said, 'To the health of Miss Zanuba Martell."

She answered with sweet arrogance, "I drink Dewar's scotch with the bey."

He grumbled, "I don't want to hear about him. May our Lord put him in the past tense."

"No way!"

"We'll see. Each glass we drink opens up new doors for us and smooths away difficulties."

They both sensed that the time was short and drank quickly. The glasses were filled and drained again and again. The cognac's fiery tongue began to trill in their stomachs, and the mercury of intoxication rose in the thermometer of their veins. The green leaves watching them from pots behind the wooden garden railing revealed glistening smiles. The piano's music fell on more indulgent ears. Faces both dreamy and feisty repeatedly exchanged fond and friendly looks. Waves of cool evening air flowed around them with silent music. Everything seemed pleasant and beautiful.