Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

"Do you know what I felt like saying when I first saw you today-when you were gazing, as if possessed, at that woman?"

"Yes? … But finish your glass first, so I can fill it."

Helping herself to a sliver of meat, she continued: "I almost shouted, 'You son of a bitch …' "

Laughing fruitily, he asked, "Why didn't you, bitch's daughter?"

"Because I only curse men I love. You were little more than a stranger to me then."

"How about now?"

"A bastard for sixty generations."

"My goodness, an insult's even more intoxicating at times than alcohol. This blessed night will be in all the papers tomorrow."

"Why, God forbid? Do you intend to cause trouble?"

"Lord, be gracious to her, and to me."

Then she inquired with obvious interest, "Why haven't you told me about your new wife?"

Stroking his mustache, he answered, "The poor dear! Her mother died this year."

"May you have a long life. Was she rich?"

"She left a house, the one beside ours — I mean next to my father's. But she left it jointly to her new husband and my wife."

"Your wife must be a beauty, for you always get the best."

He replied cautiously, "She has a certain beauty, but it doesn't compare with yours."

"Shame on you."

"Have you ever known me to lie?"

"You! There are times when I even doubt that your name's Yasin."

"Then let's drink this round too."

"Are you getting me drunk so I'll believe you?"

"If I tell you I want you and long for you, would you doubt me then?"

"You probably talk like this to every woman you meet."

"Say rather that a hungry man desires all kinds of food yet retains a hankering for mallow greens."

"A man who really loves a woman will not hesitate to marry her."

He sighed and then said, "You're mistaken. I'd like to stand on this table and scream at the top of my lungs, 'Any of you men who's in love with a woman don't marry her.' Yes, nothing kills love so effectively as marriage. Believe me. I've learned from my own experience. I married once and then a second time. I know how true this is."

"Perhaps you haven't yet found the woman who's right for you."

"Right? What kind of woman would that be? Which of my senses will guide me to her? Where is this woman who'll never be boring?"

She laughed lethargically and then commented, "It sounds as if you'd like to be a bull in a pasture full of cows. That's what you need."

Snapping his fingers appreciatively, he said, "God, God! Who used to call me that in the old days? It was my father, may he have a good evening. How I wish I could be like him. He acquired a wife whose obedience and moderation are exemplary and has been able to give free rein to his passions without encountering any problems. He's successful in his marriage and in his affairs. That's what I'd like."

"How old is he?"

"I think he's about fifty-five, but he's stronger than most young men."

"No one can hold out against time forever. May our Lord grant him good health."

"My father's the exception. He's the sweetheart of women other men crave. Don't you see him nowadays at your house?"

Laughing and tossing a bone to a cat meowing at her feet, she said, "I left that house some months ago. Now I have my own home. I'm the lady of the house."

"Really? I thought you were joking. Have you left the troupe as well?"

"Yes. You're speaking to a lady in every sense of the word."

He guffawed contentedly. Then he said, "So drink and let me drink. May our Lord be gracious to us."

He felt temptation inside and outside him. But which was the voice and which the echo? Even more marvelous was the life throbbing in material objects around them. The flowerpots whispered as they rocked back and forth. The pillars exchanged secrets. As the sky gazed down with starry, sleep-filled eyes at the earth, it spoke. He and his companion exchanged messages expressing their inmost feelings while a glow, both visible and invisible, confounded their hearts and dazzled their eyes. Something was at work in the world, tickling people until they were plunged into laughter. A look, word, gesture, anything was enough to induce all of them to laugh. Time fled as quickly as youth. The waiters carrying the fermented germ of exuberance distributed it to all the tables with grave faces. The tunes of the piano seemed to come from far away and were almost drowned out by the clattering wheels of the streetcar. On the sidewalk rowdy boys and men collecting cigarette butts created a commotion like the drone of flies, as night's legions set up camp in the district.

"You seem to be watching for the waiter to come ask, 'Are you too drunk to find your way home?' You're ignoring and avoiding that issue and an even more important one. If only Maryam would kneel before you and whisper, 'All I need is one room where I can busy myself obeying your every command. Fill the rest of the apartment with all the women you want.' If the headmaster at school would only pat you on the shoulder and say, 'How's your father, my son?' If only the government would carve out a new street in front of the store in al-Hamzawi and the residence in al-Ghuriya. If only Zanuba would tell you, 'Tomorrow I'm leaving my lover's house and then I'll be at your service.' If all this would happen, people would gather after the Friday prayer service and kiss each other with sincere affection. Tonight the best thing you can do is to sit on the sofa while Zanuba dances naked in front of you. Then you'll have a chance to monitor the beauty spot over her navel."

"How's the beloved beauty spot?" he asked as he smilingly gestured toward his own belly.

She laughed and replied, "It kisses your hand".

Glancing casually around the place, he said, "Do you see these men? Each is the debauched son of a fallen woman. All drunks are like this."

"We're honored. But my brain is flying off in every direction". "

I hope the part inhabited by your boyfriend soars away.

"Oh, if he knew what's become of us! He'll stab you one day with the tip of his mustache."

"Is he a Syrian with a colossal one?"

"Syrian?" Then she started singing in a loud voice the Syrian dialect word for salve: "Barhum, oh barhum …"

"Hush. Don't attract attention."

"Whose attention, blind man? Only a few people are left."

After rubbing his stomach and sighing, he observed, "Drink's a crazy thing."

"The crazy thing was your mother."

"You're talking louder than you should. Let's go."

"Where?"

"You know more than I do. Our feet will decide."

"Is a person successful when he lets his feet guide him?"

"That's safer at any rate than relying on a disordered brain."

"Think a little about…"

He interrupted her by rising tipsily and saying, "We need to act without any thought. Until tomorrow morning there's no point trying to think. Let's go."

"The houses have closed their eyes. The streets are vacant except for an occasional roving breeze or the light from a sleepy lamp. Free from any competition, silence has wandered everywhere, spreading its wings. What good are hotels? The desk clerks look askance at you, as if you've got a dizzying disease they don't want to catch. Yes, you can scoff at their hostility, but you still don't have a place to stay. Other lovers are tucked in bed. How long are you going to wander around? Here's a driver raising his head heavy with sleep. He's looking at you in a welcoming way. God's mercy on anyone who drags a woman around in the wee hours of the night looking for a place to stay."

"Where to?" Yasin asked.

The driver replied with a smile, "Anywhere you want."

Yasin told him, "I wasn't asking you."

The man replied, "At your service, in any case."

"Don't ask me," Zanuba said. "Ask yourself. Why didn't you think about that before you got drunk?"