Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

He said calmly, "Our relationship must not end."

"It's up to you whether it continues or ends."

"We need to meet a lot and think a lot."

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't need to think anymore."

"So either I convince you of my opinion or you convince me of the wisdom of yours."

"I'll never come around to yours."

She left the room and did not let him see her smile. He gazed after her rounded back with a look of amazement. Yes, everything seemed amazing. But where was Maryam? On her own, wherever she was. He would not get any rest or peace. He would be questioned tomorrow at Palace Walk and the following day at the Islamic court. All the same, their life during the last period had been one long wrangle. She had even told him quite bluntly, "I hate you and I hate living with you."

"I wasn't made to succeed in marriage. Was my grandfather's life like this? I'm the one in the family who most resembles him, so they say. Despite all this, that crazy woman wants to marry me."

The sun was about to set when al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad crossed i: he wooden gangplank to the houseboat. He rang the bell, and the door soon opened to reveal Zanuba in a white silk dress sheer enough to show off her body. On seeing him she cried out, "Welcome! Welcome! Tell me what you did yesterday. I imagine you came, rang the bell in vain, and stood there for a time before leaving". She laughed. "And you must have had some awful suspicions. So tell me what you did."

Despite the elegance of his appearance and the fragrance of his cologne, his face looked grim and his displeasure was visible in his staring eyes. "Where were you yesterday?" he asked.

She went into the sitting room ahead of him, pausing in the center of the room near two windows that opened on the Nile. She took a chair between the windows, pretending to be calm, collected, and cheerful. Then she answered, "I went out yesterday, as you know, to do some shopping. On my way I ran into Yasmina. the vocalist, and she invited me to her house. But she refused to let me leave and pestered me until I was forced to spend the night with her. I hadn't seen her since I moved to the houseboat. If you could have heard her criticize my disloyalty and ask me about the secret charm of this man who'd been able to make me forget my relatives and neighbors …"

Was she telling the truth or lying? Had he actually endured all those pains yesterday and today pointlessly? He knew the reason for every millieme he gained or lost. How could he have suffered those frightful torments for no reason at all? The world was a tricky place, but if this devil was telling the truth, he was prepared to kiss the ground at her feet. He had to determine whether it was true, even if that took the rest of his life. Had the time come for him to return to his senses? "Not so fast…" he admonished himself.

"When did you return to the houseboat?"

She lifted a leg and began to study her pink slipper decorated with a white rose and her toes tinted with henna. Then she said,"Why don't you sit down first and take off your fez so I can see the part in your hair. Sir, I came home a little before noon."

"Liar!" The word shot out like a bullet coated with rage and despair. Before she could open her mouth, he continued violently: "Liar! You didn't return before noon or after noon. I came here twice during the day and didn't find you."

She was speechless for a time. Then she said in a tone of indignant surrender, "The truth is that I got home just before sunset, about an hour ago. There was no reason for me to make up a story, but when I noticed the groundless look of displeasure in your eyes I wanted to dispel it. The fact is that this morning Yasmina insisted I go shopping with her. When she learned I had left my aunt's ensemble, she suggested I join hers, so I could substitute for her occasionally at a wedding. Naturally I didn't agree, because I knew without asking that you wouldn't be happy if I stayed out late with the troupe. What I'm trying to say is that I remained with her because I knew you wouldn't get here before nine. This is the story. So sit down and bless the Prophet."

"A trumped-up tale or the truth?" he wondered. "What if your friends saw you in this fix? The fates are certainly making fun of you. I'd forgive twice as much as this if I could win a little peace of mind. You're begging now. You never had to beg before. You've humiliated yourself for this lute player. She once had the job of waiting on you. She served you fruit at parties and departed in decorous silence. If I can't reassure myself, let the fires of hell flame up."

"Yasmina doesn't live in never-never land. I'll ask her if this story's true."

Waving her hand to show her disdain and disapproval, she answered, "Ask her anything you want."

He got control of his frayed and refractory nerves all of a sudden and said stubbornly, "I'll ask her this evening. I'm going to look for her. Now! I've satisfied all your requests. You must respect my rights completely."

She caught his contagious fury and responded sharply, "Not so fast! Don't insult me to my face. I've been very lenient with you until now, but everything has a limit. I'm a person made of flesh and blood. Open your eyes and pray to Fatima's father Muhammad."

He asked in astonishment, "Is this the tone you use to address me?"

"Yes, since that's how you're talking to me."

The grip of his hand on his stick tightened as he yelled, "I'm entitled to, since I'm the one who made you a lady and prepared a life for you that Zubayda herself would envy."

His statement provoked her, and like a raging lioness she snarled, "God made me a lady, not you. I only accepted a life like this after you pleaded with me fervently. Have you forgotten that? I'm not your captive or your slave. An interrogation and a police report what do you think I am? Did you buy me with your money? If you don't like the way I live, then each of us can go bis own way."

"Lord of the heavens," he reflected, "is this how manicured nails turn into claws? If you still have any doubts about last night, then consider this impudent tone. You're suffering from tyranny like Nimrod's. Swallow the pain to the dregs. Drink the abuse till you've had your fill. So what's your response? Scream in her face, as loud as you can, 'Go back to the street where I found you!' Scream, yes, scream. What's stopping you? God's curse on the saboteur! The heart's treachery is far worse than a thousand other forms of treason. This is the romantic abasement you've heard about and mocked. How I'll hate myself for loving her!"

"Would you throw me out?" he asked.

In the same belligerent tone she said, "If your understanding of our relationship is that I'm to stay here as your prisoner while you make accusations against me whenever you please, then the best thing for both of us is to break it off."

She turned her face away from him. He studied her cheek and the side of her neck with an unnatural calm that was almost trancelike. "The ultimate happiness I ask of God is casting her aside without a second thought. She has humiliated and angered you, but could you bear to come here and find no trace of her?"

"I have little confidence in you, but I didn't think your ingratitude would reach this point."

"Do you want me to be a stone with no feelings or sense of honor?"

"If you only realized," he reflected, "that you're even less than that"

But he replied, "No, I want you to be a person who recognizes the rights arising from good deeds and companionship."

Changing from an angry tone to one of complaint, she said, "I've done more for you than you can imagine. I consented to leave my family and my profession to stay wherever you chose. I haven't even complained about it, to avoid troubling your peace of mind. I didn't wish to tell you in so many words that certain people want a better life for me than this, although I haven't paid any attention to them."