Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

"Eternal damnation! Or have you slipped so low she doesn't care whether you're upset or not? Spellbound fool! After that, how could you have spoken ingratiatingly to her? How could you have left her with a promise of marriage? You're a disgrace in this world and the next. Worry has put so much pressure on you that you don't seem to have noticed the horn with which you're crowning the family. It will dishonor them for generations to come. What do you expect people to say about this horn on your handsome forehead?

"Anger, loathing, blood, and tears will not atone for your surrender and your weakness. How she must be laughing at you now as she lies on her back in the houseboat. Perhaps she hasn't yet washed away the sweat of that man, who'll soon be laughing at you too…. What's the point of getting up tomorrow if everyone's going to be making fun of you? Confess your weakness to your friends and hear their raucous laughter and comments. 'Attribute it to age and senility. Excuse it by saying he's experienced everything except the delight of sporting a cuckold's horns.' Zubayda will say, 'You refused to be my master and agreed to be my lute player's pimp.' Jalila will declare, 'You're not my brother; not even my sister.' I ask the forbidding road, gloomy darkness, and aged trees to bear witness that I'm racing through the shadows, crying like a child. May I not sleep tonight before I humiliate the tyrant…. She turned you away! Why? Because she's tired of a life of sin… a sin from which she hadn't yet cleansed her body? Say rather that she can no longer bear you. That's sufficient. How hideous the pain is! But I deserve it for having worshipped her. When a person's doing penance for an ungodly deed, he may crush his head by beating it against a wall. Shaykh Mutawalli Abd al-Samad thinks he knows many things, but how ignorant he is…."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad passed the Zamalek Bridge once more and took the Imbaba road. He began to quicken his steps deliberately and stubbornly, for he was determined to wash away the ignominy staining him. Whenever pain bore down on him, he renewed his efforts, striking the ground with his stick as though walking on three legs.

The houseboat came in sight. There was a light shining from the window. His rage intensified, for he had regained his self-confidence along with his feelings of manliness and honor. He felt composed now that he had reached a decision. He went down the steps, crossed the wooden gangplank, and banged on the door with the end of his stick. He rapped violently until he heard a voice ask with alarm, "Who's there?"

"Me!" he answered forcefully.

The door opened, revealing her astonished face. She stepped aside to let him in as she mumbled, "Good news?"

He crossed into the sitting room. Once in the center, he whirled around and stared at her. She approached with a questioning look and stopped in front of him as she anxiously examined his scowling face. Then she said, "Good news, God willing. Why have you come back?"

With alarming restraint he answered, "Good news, praise God, as you'll learn."

She did not speak but let her eyes ask the questions. So he continued: "I've come to tell you not to put any faith in what I said. The whole matter was just a foolish joke."

Her torso slumped with disappointment. Her face expressed disbelief and resentment. Then she cried out, " foolish joke'! Don't you know the difference between a silly prank and a binding word of honor?"

His face ever more glowering, he cautioned her, "When addressing me you'd better be polite. Women of your class earn their living in my home as maids."

Staring him straight in the face, she screamed, "Have you returned to favor me with this thought? Why haven't you ever said thai: before? Why did you make promises to me, attempt to gain my affection, and ingratiate yourself with me? Do you imagine talk like this will frighten me? I don't have time for foolish jokes."

He waved his hand angrily at her to make her keep still and yelled, 'I've come to tell you that marrying a girl like you would be disgraceful and nothing but an anecdote for buffs of embarrassing jokes. They'll have fun with it. Since ideas like these fill your head, you're no longer fit to associate with me. It does me no good to frequent lunatics."

As she listened, sparks of anger flew from her eyes, but she disappointed his hopes and did not lose her temper. Perhaps the sight of his fury frightened her.

In a softer tone than before, she said, "I won't force you to marry me. I told you what I was thinking and left the decision up to you. Now you want to go back on your promise. Do whatever you want. But there's no reason to revile and insult me. Let each of us go his way in peace."

"Is this the most she'll do to hold on to you?" he asked himself. "Wouldn't it have been better if she'd dug her fingernails into you attempting to keep you? Recharge your anger from your pain."

"Each of us will go his own way, but first I want to tell you bluntly what I think of you. I don't deny it was my idea to pursue you — perhaps because the soul occasionally feels a desperate craving for filthy things. You left the people you were happily serving so I could lift you up to this style of life. It doesn't surprise me that I haven't found with you the kind of love and respect] won from them, for trash only appreciates trash. The time's come for me to cease stooping down to your level and to return to my proper environment."

Defeat was visible in her face, the defeat of a person afraid to release the fury pent up in her breast. In a trembling voice she muttered, "Goodbye. Go. Leave me in peace."

Struggling with his pains, he said bitterly, "I've lowered and demeaned myself."

At this point she lost control and shouted, "Enough! That'll do! Have mercy on this vile wretch, but beware of her. Remember how once you humbly kissed her hand. 'Lowered and demeaned,' huh? The truth is that you're getting old. I accepted you in spite of your age, and this is my reward…."

He waved his stick and shouted furiously, "Shut up, bitch! Hush, vile creature! Collect your clothes and leave."

Raising her head jerkily, she shouted back, "Listen carefully to what I say. One more word from you, and I'll make such a row it'll resound throughout the houseboat, the road, and the riverfront until the entire police force arrives. Do you hear? I'm not some little morsel that's easily swallowed. I'm Zanuba!.. May God repay me for my suffering. You go! This is my houseboat. The lease is in my name. Go peacefully before you're escorted out."

He tarried indecisively for a bit, looking scornfully and derisively at her. Eventually, in order to avoid a scandal, he abandoned the idea of attempting anything rough, spat on the floor, and departed with long, steady steps.

He went immediately to his friends and found Muhammad Iffat, Ali Abd al-Rahim, Ibrahim al-Far, and some of the others. As usual, he drank until intoxicated, but then he had some more. He laughed a lot and made the others roar with laughter. In the wee hours of the night he returned home and slept soundly. Once morning came, he anticipated a quiet day free from thought. Whenever his imagination conjured up a scene from the near or distant past he resolutely shut it out except for the one scene he gladly recalled, the final vignette recording his victory over the woman and himself. He asserted, "It's all over, praise God. I'm really going to be careful during what's left of my life."

At first the day was quiet. He was able to reflect on his obvious triumph and to congratulate himself. Yet, as the day progressed, it started to seem dull or even dead. He could not think of any reason for this, unless it was a reaction to his nervous exhaustion of the last two days, in fact of the last months to a lesser degree. The truth was that his affair with Zanuba now appeared to have been a tragedy from start to finish. He had difficulty accepting this first defeat in his long string of romances, and it made a deep impression on his heart and imagination. He was enraged whenever his mind whispered that his youth had fled, for he was proud of his vigor, good looks, and vitality. He clung to the explanation he had provided the woman the previous evening — r that she did not love him because trash can only appreciate trash. All day long he yearned for the reunion with his cronies. As the time neared, he grew impatient and rushed off to Muhammad Iffat's house in al-Gamaliya to visit with him before the others trooped in.