“O snake, o devious hyena!” Hodja Nasreddin thought, gnashing his teeth in rage. “But you are too late, Bakhtiyar, now you won’t have time to do anything to me because I know all that I needed to know: all the entrances, passageways, and exits in the emir’s harem! O, my precious Guljan, you managed to get sick just in time to save Hodja Nasreddin from the palace surgeon’s knives. Although, truth be told, you were only looking out for yourself!”
He headed to his tower. Guards were sitting in the shade near its foundation and playing dice; one of them, having already lost everything, was removing his boots in order to bet them. It was very hot, but inside the thick walls of the tower, a damp coolness reigned. Climbing the narrow stone staircase, Hodja Nasreddin passed his own door, heading to the room where the Baghdad sage was kept.
The old man had grown incredibly scruffy over the course of his interment and attained a savage look. His eyes flashed from beneath his overhanging eyebrows. He met Hodja Nasreddin with curses:
“How long will you keep me locked up, o son of sin, may a stone fall on your head and pass right out your foot! O filthy rogue and cheat, who has taken my name, my robe, my turban, and my belt, may maggots eat you alive, may they consume your stomach and your liver!…”
Hodja Nasreddin had grown accustomed to this and did not take offense.
“Esteemed Hussein Huslia, today I have devised a new torture for you, namely: I will squeeze your head using a loop of rope and a staff. Guards are sitting at the foot of the tower, you must scream loudly enough for them to hear.”
The old man approached the grated window and began to scream in a weary voice:
“O almighty Allah! O, my suffering is boundless! O, do not squeeze my head using a loop of rope and a staff! O, death would be better than such torments!”
“Wait, esteemed Hussein Huslia,” Hodja Nasreddin interrupted. “You are screaming lazily and without a hint of suffering, while the guards, if you recall, are very experienced in such matters. If they detect falseness in your screams and report it to Arslanbek, then you will fall into the hands of a real torturer. Therefore, it is better for you to exert due effort now. Here, I will show you how to scream.”
Hodja Nasreddin walked up to the window, filled his chest with air, and wailed so loudly that the old man plugged his ears and shrank away.
“O spawn of the impious!” he exclaimed. “Where am I supposed to obtain a throat like yours, so that my cries may be heard on the opposite end of the city?”
“It is the only way for you to escape the torturer,” Hodja Nasreddin countered.
The old man had to make an effort. He screamed and wailed with such woe that the guards at the base of the tower interrupted their game and listened rapturously.
Afterwards, the old man could not stop coughing or catch his breath for a long time.
“Oh!” he spoke. “How can you give such a workout to my old throat? Are you pleased with my screams today, wretched beggar, may you be visited by Azrail?”
“Quite pleased,” Hodja Nasreddin replied. “And now, esteemed Hussein Huslia, you will get a reward for your efforts.”
He took out the purses given to him by the emir, poured the money out on a tray, and divided it into two equal portions.
The old man would not stop swearing and cursing.
“Why do you curse me?” Hodja Nasreddin asked calmly. “Have I disgraced the name of Hussein Huslia in any way, or shamed his learnedness? Do you see this money? The emir gave it to Hussein Huslia, the famous astrologer and healer, for curing a girl from the harem.”
“You cured a girl?” the old man gasped. “But what do you know about illnesses, you know-nothing, you cheat, you beggar?”
“I don’t know a thing about illnesses, but I do know a few things about girls,” Hodja Nasreddin replied. “And it is therefore fair to split the emir’s gift in two – half to you for what you know, and half to me for what I know. Moreover, I must tell you, Hussein Huslia, that I did not go about healing her in any random way, but I first investigated the arrangement of the stars. Last night, I saw that the stars Sad-ad-Suud were in union with the stars Sad-ad-Akhbiya, while the constellation of Scorpio had turned towards the constellation of Capricorn.”
“What?” the old man cried and began to run around the room in indignation. “O know-nothing, worthy only of herding donkeys. You do not even know that the stars Sad-ad-Suud cannot be in union with the stars Sad-al-Akhbiya, for they are both in the same constellation! And how could you have seen the constellation of Scorpio this time of year? I myself looked at the sky all night, where the stars Sad-Bula and As-Si-mak were in union, while Al-Djakhba was in descendant; can you hear that, you know-nothing? There is no Scorpio there now! You mixed it all up, o herder of donkeys who has meddled in the business of another, you mistook the stars Al-Haka, which now stand in opposition to the stars Al-Butein, for Scorpio!…”
As he indignantly accused Hodja Nasreddin of ignorance, he spoke of the true arrangement of stars. Hodja Nasreddin listened carefully, trying to remember every word, so as not to make a mistake when speaking to the emir in the presence of the sages.
“O know-nothing, son of a know-nothing, grandson and great-grandson of a know-nothing!” the old man continued. “You do not even know that now, during the nineteenth station of the moon, known as Ash-Shuala and corresponding to the sign of Sagittarius, the fates of men are decided only by the stars of that sign and no other, which is plainly written in the book of the most wise Shikhab-ad-din Mahmoud ibn-Ka-rajah…”
“Shikhab-ad-din Mahmoud ibn-Ka-rajah,” Hodja Nasreddin repeated to himself. “No later than tomorrow, I will expose the bearded sage’s ignorance of this book in the emir’s presence, so as to instill a soul-saving fear of my learnedness in his heart…”
Chapter 30
Jafar the moneylender had twelve sealed pots full of gold in his house, while he wanted desperately to have twenty. But fate, as if deliberately protecting inexperienced and trusting simpletons, had marked Jafar with a look of incredible sleaziness: he had to expend a great deal of effort to lure a new victim into his web; his pots were filling up slower than he would have liked. “Oh, if only I could get rid of my ugliness!” he fantasized. “Then people would not run when they saw me; they would trust me and not suspect any guile in my words. And then I would find it a lot easier to cheat them, and my profits would multiply immeasurably.”
When rumors spread through the city that the emir’s new sage Hussein Huslia had shown incredible skill in the healing of illnesses, the moneylender Jafar grabbed a basket full of rich gifts and headed to the palace to see Arslanbek.
Glancing inside the basket, Arslanbek expressed his complete desire to help:
“You have come at a good time, esteemed Jafar. Our sovereign is in good spirits today, and I hope he will not refuse you.”
The emir listened to the moneylender, accepted the gift – a golden chessboard with the white squares made of ivory – and summoned the sage.
“Hussein Huslia,” he said, when Hodja Nasreddin bowed before him. “This man, the moneylender Jafar, is our faithful servant who has served us well. We command you to immediately cure him of his hump, his limp, his walleye, and other disfigurements.”
And the emir turned away to signify that he did not wish to hear any objections. Hodja Nasreddin could only bow and leave. The moneylender crawled out after him, dragging his hump along like a tortoise.
“Come quickly, o most wise Hussein Huslia!” he said, not recognizing Hodja Nasreddin beneath the false beard. “Come quickly, the sun has not yet set and I can still be cured before dark… You heard – the emir has commanded you to cure me immediately!”