Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Tonight, as we await what King Hardoub will do after what happened to his daughter Abriza, it is time for our little chitchat.
The main theme of tonight’s episode is simple: karma is not fooling around—what goes around truly comes around.
King Hardoub is paying the price for what he once did to Atrashan, and King Nu’man, in turn, will also pay the price for what he has done to Abriza.
But enough chitchat.
Let us see how the two kings will face the consequences of their deeds in the 97th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Ep. 6 “Karma Vol. 1 ”
The Ninety-Seventh Night
And when it was the Seven and Ninetieth Night, being the night that followed, King Shahryar took his seat as on the previous evening. Scheherazade came at her appointed hour, and the king rose to receive her, took her by the hand, and seated her in the place of highest honor. Then she began to recount what had passed.
She said:
“It has reached me, O fortunate king, wise in judgment, that when the slave Al-Ghadban saw the dust rising and spreading across the horizon, he left the princess lying upon the ground and fled for his life, spurring his horse deep into the desert waste.
And when the dust that had filled the wilderness cleared away, it revealed King Hardoub the Mighty at the head of his dread host. When he beheld his daughter slain before him, he lowered his banners, proclaimed his grief and anguish, lifted her body, and bore her back to his city. And when her burial was complete, he sent for her grandmother, Storm-Breaker.”
When she entered upon him, he cried:
King Hardoub (weeping):
“Mother! Have you seen how Abriza’s story has ended?”
Storm-Breaker:
“That my sorrow may grow heavier! Yet I shall not abandon my blood.”
King Hardoub:
“Abriza!”
Storm-Breaker:
“Weeping is for the brow of the dead, Hardoub. Death is written upon every child of Adam.”
King Hardoub:
“Would King Al-Nu‘man do this to my daughter?”
Storm-Breaker:
“My heart burns for her, my son… God knows all. Evil is repaid with evil, and the one who begins injustice is the greater wrongdoer. Hardoub! Enough of tears and lamentation. Shame upon a man who weeps while his blood lies spilled and his vengeance still unclaimed.”
King Hardoub:
“Blood spilled… and vengeance owed! Ah, the fire within me — it shall not cool until I take my revenge. But are we a match for King Al-Nu‘man?”
Storm-Breaker:
“No tyrant stands above vengeance. You were faithful — he betrayed. The princess’s blood shall not be shed in vain. What cannot be conquered by strength may be undone by cunning.”
King Hardoub:
“In that, none equals you. You are the mother of stratagems.”
Storm-Breaker:
“This matter requires patience. Rise now, cast off your grief, enter your palace, gather a hundred maidens. From the hundred choose ten, and from the ten choose one. Bring scholars to instruct her, men of letters to refine her, and sages to sharpen her mind.”
King Hardoub:
“Are we to begin teaching her now? Such a task could take years!”
Storm-Breaker:
“Vengeance does not die — not even after forty years. King Al-Nu‘man’s weakness is women and concubines. I shall make him drink from the same cup from which he has made others drink.”
King Hardoub:
“What do you intend?”
Storm-Breaker:
“In time you shall know. Do as I command. Tomorrow you shall see. He who lives long sees much — and he who journeys sees more.”
Meanwhile, in the realm of King Al-Nu‘man, the pleasure-loving monarch summons his son, Prince Sharkan…
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Come here, Sharkan. You have surely heard what happened, and you know what was said — and what the vizier Dandan reported.”
Sharkan (sorrowfully):
“What the jailer reported… Ah… I am troubled. I am bewildered. Why did she flee our land? Why did she abandon the palace?”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“In any case, they are women — and women are not to be trusted. To flee from us without cause? God alone knows the truth.”
Sharkan:
“Why did you not send the army after her?”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“I sent spies and soldiers after her for two long months — searching and inquiring everywhere! Now enough of this talk about Abriza. She was nothing remarkable. Had her love for you been true and steadfast, she would not have fled and left you imprisoned.”
Sharkan:
“That is what confounds me!”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“You were deceived, my son. Abriza deceived me? No — but in your blindness of heart, you imagined I was your rival in love.”
Sharkan:
“I was wrong, my father. Forgive me. Pardon me.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Rise, Sharkan. Stand, my son — I forgive you. May God forgive us both.”
Sharkan:
“Your hand, my father.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“May God be pleased with you, my son. There is something more…”
Sharkan:
“Yes, my father?”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“You once asked me to grant you the Emirate of the Land of Marjan. You refused it then. Today, you accept?”
Sharkan:
“Yes. It is necessary. I ask only to live in a land where I have no rival.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“You mean your brothers? Those whom you have neither seen nor even known by name? Time will make them known to me.”
Sharkan:
“Yes… And what else? I have but one request, O King of the Age.”
King Al-Nu‘man (smiling):
“What is it, Sharkan?”
Sharkan:
“The Emirate of the Land of Marjan.”
King Al-Nu‘man (laughing):
“Ask for something else, Sharkan, and I shall grant it to you.”
Sharkan (laughing):
“What else would I ask for? The Emirate of the Land of Marjan!”
(Both laugh.)
King Al-Nu‘man:
“I shall grant it to you as you desire — so that you may forget your love and busy your heart elsewhere. Raise Prince Sharkan to the Emirate of the Land of Marjan!”
Beautiful dramatic movement here, Zei. I’ll keep the rhythm theatrical, elevated, but faithful to the radio spirit.
After the passing of years — King Al-Nu‘man with his younger children, now grown.
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“Good morning, O King of the Age.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Daw’ Al-Makan! Mashallah, mashallah — you have become a man, a true knight among knights. Come here, Nuzhat Al-Makan.”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“Father!”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Mashallah, mashallah — you have grown into a bride… and dressed like a warrior besides!”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“I am going hunting with Daw’ Al-Makan.”
King Al-Nu‘man (laughing proudly):
“You have not seen how she rides, O King of the Age — like a desert ostrich! The son of a duck is a swimmer indeed! Ah, splendid! Come here, Daw’ Al-Makan. Come here, Nuzhat Al-Makan… My children! Where is Sharkan now? You do not yet know your third brother — but the days will reveal him to us. Hamam! See to the water and the provisions, and take the tents with you.”
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“Are we hunting, or planning to camp? We may be gone three days.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Have you sufficient guards?”
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“More than sufficient.”
King Al-Nu‘man:
“Then go in peace.”
(Music. Scene shift — Nuzhat Al-Makan and Daw’ Al-Makan lost in the desert.)
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“Do not weep, Nuzhat Al-Makan.”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“I am thirsty, Daw’ Al-Makan.”
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“And I as well. We have been in this state for two days, ever since we chased that gazelle. This desert has no end. Strangers wandering lost… two full days now. By now they must be searching for us.”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“And will they find us? Sand beyond sand, hills and mountains… I am thirsty! Thirsty! — Wait! Brother… do you not see? A caravan is approaching… Those are our guards — they are coming toward us!”
Daw’ Al-Makan (squinting):
“Praise be to God… Wait… do you not notice? Look at the camels — look at their dress… These are not our men. They are Bedouins. They will seize us!”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“Better to fall into the hands of Bedouins than die of thirst!”
But it is told that when the two royal youths perceived the intent of the Bedouins, they resolved within themselves to attempt escape rather than submit quietly to captivity.
Though weakened by thirst and wandering, they summoned what strength remained in their weary limbs.
Daw’ Al-Makan seized a fallen staff and struck at one of the tribesmen, while Nuzhat Al-Makan, though faint, clung to her brother and urged him onward. A brief struggle ensued — dust rising, shouts echoing across the empty plain — yet their bodies were spent, and their arms heavy as lead.
Overcome by exhaustion and outnumbered on every side, the two royals were seized after their failed attempt, bound fast despite their noble resistance, and thus fell into captivity, their courage greater than their strength.
The Bedouin caravan approaches.
Murrah (Sheikh of the tribe):
“What is this, Murrah? Mashallah… mashallah… such beauty, by God.”
Fahd (another tribesman):
“Stand aside! Leave her — leave her! She is a desert gazelle. Tell me, girl — who are you, and why do you weep?”
Nuzhat Al-Makan:
“I who was once precious have been made cheap.”
Murrah:
“And who are you, fair-faced boy?”
Daw’ Al-Makan:
“I who was once honored have been humbled.”
Murrah (calculating):
“By God, I would not sell the girl for less than two thousand.”
Fahd:
“Where, Murrah, where? O apple of my eye, Murrah, let goodwill remain between our tribes. May no blame touch your name, nor reproach stain your garments.”
Murrah:
“Shame upon such talk! What will the people say? Very well — words are words, and judgment is binding and accepted. Let us cast the burrah. Whoever wins takes the boy and the girl. Where is the stone?”
Fahd:
“In the left hand!”
Murrah (revealing):
“In the right… The right hand wins! The right hand wins!”
And Fahd won the wager, and took Nuzhat Al-Makan and her brother Daw’ Al-Makan, intending to sell them for the highest price. He journeyed with them to a distant land to display them in the slave market.
Scheherazade:
“My lord…”
And before the tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.
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