Omar Khayyam - a life Read online

  Omar glanced at the roll of white silk, and smiled. No doubt Nizam would have cast it on the fire in righteous wrath, but he intended to have a cloak made out of it.

  The court of the dervishes beside the tank of the Jami mosque of Aleppo, toward the hour of evening prayer.

  Wrapped in wool, they sat at the edge of the water, six dervishes and one hunchback in rags. Leaning on a staff, the hunchback held out crooked hands to the passersby coming with swishing robes, carrying filled saddlebags or boxes. Veiled women chattered, their heads close together as they passed on, discussing what they had bought. Girls, stumbling, lugged infant brothers on their slender backs. A rich Arab astride a belled mule counted coins from one hand to the other.

  "Affliction," wailed the hunchback, "affliction cries to mercy. Give—give in the name of God."

  "Weeper!" muttered the Arab, dropping the coins into a stout sack, and stowing the sack in his girdle.

  "Ya hu ya hak! Oh, mercy! Give, in Allah's name, to the sick."

  "Then get thee to the mosque," muttered a mullah, whose skirts swept the dirt.

  " 'Tis for another, who must have bread."

  The mullah passed on, but a woman stopped, fumbling at the bundle she carried. "Here," she whispered, pulling out a slab of bread, "is it for a holy dervish who weeps mightily?" (The woman knew that all dervishes mourned the sins of the world.)

  "It is for one," the cripple assented, taking the bread, "who hath wept tears of blood."

  Mounted on a thoroughbred horse, and wearing a robe of honor heavy with silver thread, Omar the Tentmaker came by, from his afternoon audience with the Sultan.

  "O Master!" cried the hunchback, running forward. His fingers trembled as they caught at the stirrup. "Stop. For two years and ten moons I sought your Excellency."

  Looking down into the anxious face, Omar remembered the King's fool who had wept over the reflection of another moon, drowned in another pool. "Jafarak!" he cried, wondering at the rags of the man and the absence of the white donkey.

  "Ay, Jafarak, who holds court with beggars and dervishes now. Why didst thou delay to send for me?"

  "To send?"

  "Verily, after I brought the silver armlet to thy house—I came back to Aleppo and I waited while moon followed moon. At first she grew stronger and at times she laughed. I would have taken her to thy house, but how can a fool travel with a beautiful girl upon the road? We had no money, and she said surely, surely you would come. Hast thou forgotten Yasmi?"

  Omar caught his thin arm. "Is she here—now?"

  "I beg for her." Jafarak held up the slab of bread. "Every evening she asks if perhaps there was some word of your Excellency's coming."

  "Take me to her."

  Tugging at the rein, Jafarak led the horse out of the throng into an alley. He hobbled along, still clutching the bread. "Ai, the demon of sickness hath gnawed at her," he said over his shoulder. "Will your nobility wait, just a little, while I tell her what Allah hath brought to pass?"

  When Jafarak vanished into a doorway beside a coppersmith's forge, Omar dismounted, leaning his head against the shoulder of the horse, saying to himself that Yasmi was here in a room above this street. When Jafarak came down at last, the jester brushed a hand across his eyes, smiling and grimacing.

  "Eh, eh, what a tempest. All this time she hath been like a dove, and now she flutters and cries for incense and henna stain and kohl blacking for her eyes, and bids me warn your Excellency that she hath no silk to wear——"

  "Is she ready to see me? Can I go up?"

  Feeling his way up dark stone stairs, he passed landings where dim figures peered at him and reached the roof where oranges and wet garments were piled. Beneath a shelter in one corner Yasmi lay on a stained quilt. He saw only her eyes.

  "O heart of my heart," he whispered, kneeling beside her.

  "How magnificent my lord—ai, I have not even a rug to offer—" her breath caught in her throat, until she threw her arms about his neck. He felt tears upon her hot cheeks.

  When she grew quiet, pressed close to him, he saw how her face had thinned and paled. Only the scent of her hair and the dark eyes aswoon with love remained the same.

  "I watched the stars come up and go down, when I was ill," she whispered, "because they were the same that stood over the House of the Stars. ... Is the dragon still on the screen? Nay, life of my life, I can see all that is in the room—is it still the same?"

  "It is the same. It is waiting."

  Yasmi stirred and sighed contentedly. "I thought so. But I could not remember the names of the stars, except for Orion and Aldebaran. Jafarak told me some more; he said thou hast become great in the council of our lord the Sultan . . . how pretty the silver is on thy sleeve."

  "I will find thee a robe of Cathayan silk, and embroidered slippers."

  "And sugared ginger," she laughed "Nay, we must have a feast, with sherbet to drink."

  "The wine of thy lips!"

  She touched his cheek shyly, and looked eagerly at his fine shagreen riding boots. "If only I were strong. My heart hurts when it pounds so. Aiwallah, thy slave hath lost her beauty!"

  "Thou are more lovely, beloved."

  Suddenly she laid her fingers on his lips, and heeded not that he kissed them. "Tell me—nay, look at me, do not speak— is there another wife who sleeps in my room in the House of the Stars?"

  Omar shook his head and she relaxed. "I wondered many times. When my marriage was made a fire came into my brain and I tried to run away. When—when Abu'l Zaid took me in his arms, I grew sick. And then the fever came. . . . They made me travel in closed camel hampers, and sometimes I did not know where I went. It was in a serai among the mountains that I saw the cripple Jafarak, who pitied me. Then quickly I gave him the silver armlet with the turquoises, and bade him take the message to thee at Nisapur whither he was going. But here, in Aleppo my husband grew angry, saying that I mocked him. He went out and cried to witnesses that he divorced me, because I was ill, and evil minded. Then he went away——"

  "I knew nothing of the armlet and the message," Omar whispered.

  "But now I am a wife outcast——"

  "Nay," Omar laughed, "thou art a wife to be. Shall I wait another hour before making thee mine, O houri?"

  "This houri hath neither beauty nor dowry."

  Still, the warm blood flooded her cheeks, and her eyes brightened. Not until Omar had departed did she lie back upon the quilt, curled up to ease the pain that gnawed at her.

  In the street below Omar took the rein from Jafarak. "I go to fetch a kadi and witnesses," he said, "for I take Yasmi to wife now, this evening. Go thou to the confectioners—take this purse—bring trays of sweet cakes and rice paste, bring sugared jellies, and sherbet and red wine. Call out to the people in this street to share in the festival. Fetch a lute player—find candles. Light up the roof, and by Allah stint not!"

  He swung himself into the saddle and rode away, hardly seeing the curious faces and the outstretched hands of beggars.

  "O believers!" cried Jafarak, lifting high the wallet. "O believers, the door of festivity is open. Come ye!"

  Aware only of Yasmi in her veil, Omar heard the dry voice of the kadi who sat beside him on the carpet. ". . . daughter of a bookseller. And what is agreed as to her dowry? I said, what property doth she put into your hands?"

  Behind the judge, a scribe wrote down the terms of the marriage.

  "Property?" Omar smiled. "Hair dark as the storm wind, a waist slender as a young cypress, and a heart that knoweth naught but love. She needs no more. Make haste!"

  "Write, 'Nothing of tangible value,'" the kadi instructed the scribe. "And now, what property doth your Excellency bestow upon her?"

  "Everything—all that I have."

  The kadi folded his arms doggedly. "Will your Excellency please consider that we must place reasonable terms on record? 'Everything' will not stand before the law. We must have itemization: how much land and where situate, what dwellings upon it, and
water rights, rights of fishery, and assessed valuation. Then, furthermore, must we have some account of goods, whether rolls of cloth, kantaras of musk, white falcons, black fur, fish teeth suitable for ivory carving, how many camels and where, how many slaves and their approximate value "

  "Write 'Everything of tangible value,'" Omar instructed the scribe, over his shoulder.

  The kadi lifted indignant hands. "By the beard of my father, and the holy Kiblah, who ever heard such words as these in a marriage contract? First, and before all, such a declaration infringes upon the dower rights of other wives, of whom it is written in the Book-to-be-read that the first four shall—"

  Reaching behind him, Omar took a fistful of gold from the tray brought hither by one of his slaves. A coin at a time, he stuffed it between the bearded lips of the judge, then tossed a double handful of silver into the laps of the attentive witnesses. Taking the roll of paper from the scribe, he bade the witnesses sign, while Jafarak poured out a goblet of wine for the scribe. Into the wine Omar dropped a ring from his fingers, amid exclamations from the crowd watching the scene upon the carpet.

  'Thy words are golden," he said to the kadi, who was coughing and bowing like a puppet in a show. "Never were such words. Now is the marriage finished. Let the lute be heard, ay, and the harp. And ye, watchers of blessedness, forget not Omar the Tentmaker who took his bride this night."

  Rising, he strode to the parapet of the roof and looked down into the lighted street where the beggars, the dervishes and the children of the quarter had gathered. The lutist wailed a song of love, and the harp twanged.

  "O men," he cried, "eat and be full! If the cakes fail, eat the confectioner! Is there one among ye who is not merry?"

  "Nay, Master Omar. Merry we be."

  "Is there one who is not full of rice and sweetmeats and sherbet?"

  "By Allah, not one."

  "Yet are ye ragged and woeful. This night ye may not be rich as the Tentmaker, for he is rich beyond all counting—nor intoxicated as the Tentmaker, for he hath tasted the wine of Paradise. Still, ye shall not want. Throw out the tray," he ordered his money bearer.

  "Master—the tray?"

  Taking the great brass salver from him, Omar emptied it into the alley. A roar of satisfaction rose from the crowd, while boys scrambled in the dust and women knelt down to clutch the bright coins.

  Omar picked up Yasmi in his arms. She held to his neck, trembling. He carried her down to the street where a palanquin stood—borrowed in haste with two eunuchs to lend it prestige from his friend the Amir Aziz—and lowered her gently to the cushions.

  "O my bride," he whispered, "never wilt thou know other arms than mine."

  The eunuchs closed the lattice doors, and the crowd which had rubbed elbows with Yasmi for months when she had been an outcast among them, seeking food like themselves, fell back from the guarded chair of the bride of a great noble.

  "Ilhamdillah!" they cried. "The praise be to God! . . . Praise for the Lord of Wisdom, who giveth gold! Praise for the Tentmaker!"

  "Is there," cried a dervish, "a lord like to the Lord Omar, from the Gates to Cathay?"

  "Not one!" shouted another. "Peace be upon him."

  "May his road be smooth!"

  A little girl darted out from the crowd with a basket of rose petals which she strewed about the hoofs of Omar's charger.

  "Whither," asked one of the eunuchs, "will the Favored of the Throne direct his steps?"

  "To the bazaar."

  "But the bazaar is closed. Since the late afternoon prayer, it hath been closed."

  "Good," assented Omar. "Now, make haste."

  Trotting beside the palanquin, which was borne on swiftly by the stalwart black slaves, the eunuch whispered to Jafarak that the Lord appeared to be drunk.

  "Thou," grinned the jester, "wilt never be drunk with such wine."

  At the closed gate of the nearest bazaar street they found a Turkish onbashi with a half-dozen spearmen and a round Chinese lantern. The officer stared at the imposing sedan and the robed eunuchs, and saluted Omar respectfully.

  "Nay, lord," he objected, "this entrance is closed during the hours of darkness by order of the Sultan."

  "By favor of the Sultan," Omar smiled, "nothing is closed to me this night. Take this ring as token that I grant thee permission to open. Be quick!"

  "Wilt thou keep the royal astrologer waiting?" cried Jafarak.

  The commander-of-ten took the ring and shook his head >dubiously. Still muttering, he swung open one half of the double gate, bidding his men stand back. As he did so, a form topped by a black skull cap sidled forward and entered the vaulted bazaar street behind the palanquin.

  Once inside, the man with a beard ran forward eagerly to grasp Omar's stirrup. "Ya khwaja," he said softly, "this way, this way. Come to Zurrak's shop, to behold silks of Khoten and jade pendants from the temple troves. Zurrak hath Balas rubies set in pure gold, to match the hue of a houri's lips. Or will the Lord of Wisdom have lapis lazuli set in silver gilt? Alabaster cups, or crystal basins——"

  A second bearded form hastened up, panting with hard running. "O Protector of the Poor, not that way! Zurrak's wares are made here, in the back shops of Aleppo. He knoweth not jade from soapstone. Come this way to the place of thy slave, Sholem of Antioch. This very week I have had a caravan of silks woven with gold thread, and damask sewn with pearls——"

  Omar's stirrup was shaken by a third panting merchant. "What words are these, O infidel dogs? O dung from a dunghill, see'st not that the noble lord desires precious stones for the white throat of his bride? This way, Master, to the shop of thy slave Bastam the true-believer, the grandson of a Sayyid——"

  "O ye thieves of the night," cried Omar, "I will buy everything, and the Sultan himself shall pay, for this night will never come again."

  The hours of that night had passed like minutes. Lying near the entrance of his tent—for the midsummer heat was upon them—Omar played with Yasmi's hair, winding it about his fingers. Now, at last, he felt alive again. The sounds of the night had meaning. All the long hours of the last three years had vanished, like a vision rising from the sea and sinking into the sea.

  The glimmer of starlight outlined Yasmi's white arm beneath him. He could see the coverlet rise and fall as she breathed. The dry scent of sage came from the sand outside.

  "Thou hast not slept, my heart," he whispered.

  He had waited long, but now that the cool breath of coming day was in the tent, he thought that she would not sleep.

  Her dark head turned toward him. "I am too happy," she said faintly, "and it hurts. ... I have been counting my happiness. Is it wrong to do that?"

  "If it is wrong, then am I a sinner foredoomed."

  "Hssh" She laid her fingers on his lips. "I feel afraid. So many times have I waked when the stars were sinking, to long for thee, beloved. It—it is cruel, at such a time, to be alone in love. . . . Now am I afraid that something may take thee away."

  "Nay, we will both go to Nisapur and the House of the Stars. I will ask the Sultan for leave to go."

  "Canst thou do that?" She laughed a little. "I had forgotten—thou hast power. Alas, how many garments and precious things thou hast brought from the bazaar! I am no longer a beggar woman, it seems."

  "Thou art my life. For three years my soul was sick."

  "It is a very vigorous soul, meseems." She was silent, pondering. "How strange it is. I know not how such things be. But I have loved thee ever since thou camest to the Street of the Booksellers. At first—nay, I have wondered about this for many moons, my lover—I was afraid, and then I was frightened because I desired thee so. Didst thou know how much a word punished me, then? Of course not. . . . And after that I cared for nothing but thee. Thou wert with me, and I was enmeshed in magic of the djinn; thou wert absent, and my whole body ached."

  The sky had turned from dark to gray, and the white side of a tent took shape.

  "That is finished," Omar said.

  He c
ould see her eyes, the pallor of her skin. "All but the pain."

  "What?" He lifted his head. "What saidest thou, my heart? Look, the sword of dawn rends the robe of night, and we have not slept. O sweetheart, grieve not. This is our dawn—quaff thou of it. It is ours, and all the dawns that come after will not be like this."

  "Never like this," she smiled.

  "And all who sleep, they know naught. See, the first shaft hath struck the Sultan's pavilion. Now I must bathe and wait upon him, so that we may depart from the camp."

  "In just a little. Nay, life of my life, I must have yet another moment to count—and see the light fall upon thy face."

  Omar was filled with a passion to be gone. Once Malikshah had given consent to his departure, he selected guards for the journey, and pack camels. While his slaves stowed his property in sacks, he found a closed litter that could be slung between two horses, for Yasmi. He even bought another white donkey for Jafarak.

  "Thou shalt never beg again, Jafarak," he laughed.

  The jester looked at him timidly. "Master, I beg thy remembrance of one thing. Thou art strong as Rustam, but Yasmi is weak. She is too weak for joy."

  "Thou art a wise fool."

  "Nay, I am a cripple. Only one who hath tasted anguish can know what a woman feels."

  But at the setting forth, in the cool of that afternoon, when the great amirs came mounted, to escort Omar Khayyam a little upon his way, Jafarak pranced about on his donkey, leading the way.

  "Ahai, lords," he cried back at them, "only a fool will ride before men of the sword."

  That night Yasmi had a chill, and after it came the heat of fever. She would not touch food, but she smiled when Omar became anxious.

  "I have had too much happiness, and surely it will pass."

  On the second night they halted at the edge of the river Euphrates, their tents on the high bank in a fringe of tamarisk. In the morning, they could cross the river on the ferry barge that served the caravans. Yasmi lay under many covers, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes followed Omar when he moved about the tent, but it hurt her to turn her head.