1.9.3
Now rose another to criticize, saying, “Listen now, all you who’re wise. The happiest of God’s creation is the monk who remains in his cell to read, who from work on his land or in his village is freed; he eats of what others labor to earn, providing prayers in overflowing measure in return (so relieving them of any need for light, in the darkness of the night), and he takes his steed from among whatever beasts to their lot may be counted, so that he is, as the saying has it, ‘Fed, watered, and mounted.’ Thus equipped, it matters not to him whether the world flourish or go to pot, mankind be resurrected or left to rot.” One of those wise men then said, “These words are far from true. The monk and his like, should they see men setting forth on their labors, occupied in their endeavors, are far from happy to be reduced to living off their toil, taking their ease at the expense of others’ exhausting labor on the soil, idly waiting till they bring him their gifts. On the contrary, he’d rather take on a part of their chores than be a partner in what they’ve set aside as stores (this if he be of blameless soul and noble stock, honest in his striving, his conscience not ad hoc). Nay more — on seeing men with their wives and children he suffers agonies and sorrows too great to tell, especially when, alone in his cell, he sees his plumpness going to waste and doing him no good while others, weakened by toil and fatigue, enfeebled by effort, sickness, and lack of food, are more capable than him of realizing the desires to which all mankind, Arab and non-Arab alike, aspires.”
1.9.4
Another, who the last man’s opinion shared and was at ease with his view, declared, “This, I swear, is the revealed truth! The monk and those like him are better counted among those who live in ruth. However, it seems to me that the happiest of men where livelihood’s concerned is the merchant. He sits in his store for a few hours of his day and earns in one hour, with his mighty oaths, enough to pay his expenses for a month. By means of constant hype, he converts loss to gain, the unwanted into things desired, the shoddy into goods of superior stripe. Plus, when he goes home at night, Daʿd and Laylā171 are waiting there to treat him right; thus by day he earns his monies, and by night he spends it on his ankleted honies.”172 One who the truth of these words denied and wished to prove that the man before had lied now said, “The merchant can attain this pleasant life, enjoy this ample ease, only if he be ambitious, a rolling stone, with dealings in lands far from his own, a master of risks, one who boldly seizes what he wants. This being so, the realization of the results of his greed and toil must put paid to his leisure, the burgeoning of his ambitions must spoil his pleasure; what he must do to please customers and family must fill his soul with anomie. He fears for his goods at sea whenever the wind blows and, when dawn breaks, worries that someone will come to inform him of woes, some letter arrive to inform him of damage or loss, of stagnant markets or embargoes. Thus in thought his brow he ever furrows, gulping down regret and sorrows.”
1.9.5
One of his audience now said, “Verily, your words are true. As for me, I’d have no desire to engage in trade, even if each day a hundred golden dinars I made. Any who engages in that profession spreads gossip, tells lies and absurdities, schemes, practices craft and deception, and betrays, not to mention that I’d be stuck there in the store for a quarter of my days. I’d have no idea of what was afoot in my nest: perhaps some watcher would go there and make hay while I was away, while I was lying to a buyer and wangling, flattering, and wrangling. Sin’s rope would then be round my neck both for what I did in the store and for being a means to the commission of forbidden acts behind my very own door. For my part, I believe the man who most deserves to be envied for his way of life, whose craft and profession most deserve our praises, is none other than the cultivator, who labors to do good to both himself and others with what he raises, thus gaining both health for his body and provender for his dependants, which is the best of the many blessings by him enjoyed, though in addition his wife goes back and forth with him to work and keeps him company when times are hard and he’s unemployed. If he falls sick, she nurses him herself and looks after his mead; if he’s absent, she watches out for his interests and waits, hoping he’ll return with speed. What’s more, the tired man savors his meat and finds his slumbers sweet. Do you not observe that the children of those who strive and toil have healthier bodies and are quicker witted than the children of those who live a life of ease and are better outfitted? The sole reason for this is that they go to sleep when tired, eat when hungry, and drink when thirsty.” The one closest to him now answered, “I must take issue with what you say, for you look at the picture in only one way, while the other side escapes you. The cultivator, I swear, over and above his body’s hard work, is captive to care and woe, bedfellow to anxiety and sorrow, for he’s a slave to the elements, at the bidding of the great families and of accidents. If a storm blow, he fears his fruit will fall and he feel gall; if the rain’s too little or too savage, he fears lest what he’s sown be ravaged; if a great man in his town dies, he worries he won’t be able to market his supplies. If he be a man of insight and sensibility, it hurts him that his family should see him poorly clothed and shod, abject and submissive, wretched and downtrod, as does their grief at having nothing by way of food that’s tasty nor by way of clothes that’s comfy, at being unable to raise his son as he would have desired, unable to visit any town but the one in which he was sired, for that is his cradle and his tomb, his prison and sole dwelling room. In addition, he is the object of the designs of his leader in religion, and a stick on which any may lean who has more money than he, or any ruler or wielder of authority. He barely escapes the snare set for him by the one before he falls into the trap set by the other, and should one evil pass him by, he’ll find another, yet greater, nigh. Given his burdens and lack of education, he finds no escape for himself or for any relation. Should he ever desire to follow a path for his family that’s of his own choosing and he believes correct, but which is not what his imam, emir, or other high-ranking person would elect, he may not be spared a fine, or the lopping of his nose, or the breaking of his neck, and in no time his friends will be his enemies, his boon companions his dogged foes. In short, he’s a pawn to subjection, a prisoner to supplication.”