Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

Encouraged by seeing them stand beside his carriage, the coachman suggested, "The Nile! That's the best place. Shall I take you to the banks of the Nile?"

Yasin asked contentiously, "Are you a coachman or a sailor? What would we do by the Nile at this hour of the night?"

The driver said suggestively, "The light's dim, and no one's around."

"Ideal conditions for thieves."

Zanuba said fearfully, "Terrible! My ears, neck, and arms are weighted down with gold."

Shrugging his shoulders, the driver said, "There's nothing to fear. Every night I go there with fine people like you and we return in top condition."

Zanuba said sharply, "Don't mention the Nile. Talking about it makes my body shudder."

"May evil stay far from your body."

On taking his place in the carriage next to Zanuba, Yasin said, "Talk to me. What's her body to you?"

"Bey, I'm your servant."

"Eveiything's a mess tonight."

"May our Lord straighten it out. If you'd like a hotel, we'll go to one."

"We've quarreled with the clerks in three hotels. Three or four, Zanuba? Think of something else."

"There's always the Nile."

Zanuba said angrily, "The gold, fellow."

Putting his feet on the other seat, Yasin added, "Besides, there's no place to …"

The driver answered, "There's always the carriage."

Zanuba shouted, "Are you trying to humiliate me?"

Twisting his mustache, Yasin said, "You're right. Absolutely. The carriage isn't the place. I'm not going to act like a foolish kid at this stage in my life. Listen..."

The man turned his ear, and Yasin yelled imperiously, "To Palace of Desire Alley."

"Clip-clop, clip-clop… you're plunging into the darkness with no friend save the stars," Yasin reflected.

Anxiety loomed on the horizon only to sink back into a sea of forgetfuJness, like an elusive memory. His willpower had dissolved in a glass ofwine. Then his companion in merrymaking asked him with a drunken stammer where he was heading in Palace of Desire Alley.

He replied, "My house, which I inherited from my mother."

"The fates decreed that she lived for love there and left it in trust to love at her death," he thought. "It has greeted with yearning Umm Maryam and her daughter Maryam. Tonight it will open its arms to a lady from my past."

"What about your wife, drunkard?"

"She's sound asleep."

"Isn't there a reckoning for everything?"

"You' re with a man whose heart doesn't know the meaning of fear. Pluck some pearls from the heavens and drape your forehead with them. Sing softly into my ear, 'Bring me my love tonight, Mother.'"

"Where am I going to spend the rest of it?"

"I'll take you anywhere you want."

"You couldn't carry a straw home."

"How about Paris on the Mediterranean?"

"If only I weren't afraid of him."

"Who is he?"

Throwing her head back, she answered despondently, "Who knows? I've forgotten."

Al-Gamaliya was scarcely visible in the darkness. Even the coffeehouse had closed its doors. The carriage stopped at the entrance to Palace of Desire Alley. As Yasin stepped down, he belched. Supporting herself on his arm, Zanuba followed. They walked off together with a caution that did not keep them from swaying tipsily. Behind them they heard the cough of the driver and the squeaking shoes of the night watchman, who passed inquisitively by the carriage as it turned around.

She told him, "The ground's uneven. It's rough walking here."

He replied, "It'll be easy going in the house". Then he added, "Don't worry."

Although sporting a silly smile that was lost in the shadows, Zanuba tried in vain to remind him that his wife was in the apartment they were approaching. She almost stumbled twice climbing the stairs. When they reached the door of the apartment they were both panting. Alarm at the situation momentarily lent their scattered wits the impetus to collect the shreds of consciousness.

Yasin carefully turned the key in the lock, gently shoved the door open, and searched for Zanuba's ear in the darkness. Bending over, he whispered for her to remove her shoes. After taking his off, he stepped in front of her, put her hand on his shoulder, and headed for the parlor near the entrance. Opening that door, he slipped inside with her still behind him. They sighed with relief. Closing the door, he led her to the sofa, where they sat down together.

She said uneasily, "It's very dark, I don't like the dark."

Putting their shoes under the sofa, he replied, "You'll get used to it soon."

"My head's beginning to spin."

"Only now?"

Without paying any attention to her response, he rose suddenly and whispered with alarm, "I didn't shut the outside door". Putting up his hand to remove his fez, he cried out, "I forgot my fez too! Do you suppose I left it in the carriage or at Tout-Va-Bien"

"To hell with your fez! Lock the door, fellow."

Once again he slipped into the hall and over to the outside door, which he shut with extreme care. On his way back a tempting idea struck him. He went to the console table, holding his hand out in front of him to keep from bumping into one of the chairs. Then he returned to the parlor holding a half-empty bottle of cognac.

Placing it in her lap, he said, "I've brought you the remedy for everything."

After feeling the bottle with her hand she exclaimed, "Liquor!.. Enough's enough. Do you want us to spill over?"

"One sip to help us catch our breath after all this exertion."

He drank until he felt that he was capable of anything and that insanity was a desirable condition. Then the sea of inebriation began to rage. He rode high on a wave only to plunge down again. He spun round in an endless whirlpool. In the corners of the room there were protruding tongues, raving and ranting in the darkness. Boisterous laughter escaped from these throats with a clamor like the commotion of a market, followed by nothing less than singing. The bottle fell to the floor with a warning thump. But he had a lap to finish swimming, even if he had to do it in a sea of perspiration. The time might have been long or short. He was not keeping track. His eyes were closed and oblivious to the passing and graying of the darkness.

Thus he awakened to voices and movement like a happy dreamer just stretching out his hand to pluck a new treat. Opening his eyes, he saw light and shadow dancing together on the walls. He turned his neck and noticed Maryam at the door. She was holding a lamp, and its light clearly revealed scowling features and eyes flashing with anger. The couple sprawled across the sofa exchanged long, extraordinary looks with the woman standing at the door. Theirs were unsteady and confused, hers flaming with outrage. The silence was unbearable. Zanuba revealed her anxiety by opening her mouth to speak without being able to get any words out. Then she was suddenly overwhelmed by laughter for no apparent reason. She was so convulsed that she had to hide her face in her hands.

Yasin shouted at her with slurred diction, "That's enough laughter! This is a respectable home."

Maryam seemed to want to speak, but either her tongue would not cooperate or fury rendered her speechless. Without knowing what he was saying, Yasin told her, "I found this 'lady' in a severely intoxicated condition. So I brought her home to sober up."

Zanuba was not going to keep quiet about this. She protested, "He's the drunk, as you can see. And he brought me here by force."

Maryam made a motion as if she was seriously considering throwing the lamp at them. Yasin tensed his body and gave her a look that showed he was prepared. But she immediately had second thoughts, once she realized the serious implications of such an act. She placed the lamp on a table and clenched her teeth with rage. Then, her voice dry and trembling but coarsened by resentment and anger, she spoke for the first time: "In my house!.. In my house? In my house, you criminal child of the devils."