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Among the more delightful tales is that of Ibrahim ibn al-Mahdi, the brother of Harun al-Rashid. When the caliphate passed to al-Ma’mun, the son of his brother Harun al-Rashid, Ibrahim refused to swear allegiance to him. Instead, he went to Rayy and claimed the caliphate for himself, maintaining his claim for one year, eleven months, and twelve days. His nephew al-Ma’mun waited for him to return to obedience and rejoin the community, until at last he despaired of his return. Then he set out for Rayy with his cavalry and infantry. When the news reached Ibrahim, he had no choice but to flee to Baghdad, where he went into hiding for fear of his life. Al-Ma’mun offered a hundred thousand dinars to anyone who would reveal his whereabouts. Ibrahim said, “When I heard of this reward, I feared for my life…” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving off her permitted tale.

Then came the two hundred and seventy-third night.

She said, “It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Ibrahim said: ‘When I heard of this reward, I feared for my life and knew not what to do. At midday I left my house, with no idea where to turn, and entered a street that proved to be a blind alley. At its far end I saw a barber standing at the door of his house. I approached him and said, “Have you somewhere I might hide for an hour?” “Yes,” he answered, and opened the door. I entered a clean room, but once he had shown me in, he locked the door on me and went away. I imagined he had heard of the reward, and said to myself, “He has gone to betray me.” There I remained, seething like a pot on the fire and pondering my plight, until he returned with a porter carrying everything he needed. Then he turned to me and said, “May I be your ransom!”

“Ibrahim continued: ‘I was in need of food, so I cooked myself a dish the like of which I cannot remember ever having eaten. When I had satisfied my hunger, he said, “My lord, I am not worthy to converse with you, but should you wish to honor your servant, the choice rests with you.” Not supposing that he knew me, I asked, “How do you know that I am skilled in evening conversation?” He replied, “Glory be to God! Our master is too famous for such a question. You are my lord Ibrahim ibn al-Mahdi, for whose whereabouts al-Ma’mun has offered a hundred thousand dinars.” When he said this, he rose greatly in my esteem, and I was convinced of his nobility of spirit. I granted his request. Then the thought of my children and household came to me, and I began to recite:

“‘“May He who brought Joseph his family, and honored him while he lay a prisoner in jail, answer our prayers and gather us together again: God, Lord of all worlds, has power over all.” When he heard this, he said, “My lord, will you allow me to recite what has come to mind?” “Let me hear it,” I said, and he recited these verses:

“‘“We complained to our loved ones of our endless nights; they answered, ‘How short the nights are here!’ For sleep comes swiftly to our eyes, yet joy never visits our hearts. When night draws near, tormenting those who love, we grieve, while they rejoice at its approach. If they endured what we endure, they would lie upon their beds as we do.” I said to him, “You have done wonderfully well, and driven the pain of sorrow from me. Give me more of these diversions.” So he recited:

“‘“She taunts us that our numbers are few; I tell her, ‘The noble are always few.’ Our scant numbers do us no harm: those beneath our protection are honored, while the neighbors of the many are abased. We are a people who do not think death our appointed lot, though Amir and Salul may think it theirs. Our love of death brings our appointed ends nearer; theirs dread it, and so their lives grow long. We may, if we wish, challenge what others say, but none challenges our words when we speak.” When I heard these verses from him, I was filled with wonder and swept away by delight. I took a purse I had with me, containing many dinars, and tossed it to him, saying, “I leave you in God’s keeping, for I must go. I ask you to spend what is in this purse on some of your needs. When I am safe from danger, I shall reward you more generously still.” But he handed the purse back to me and said, “My lord, poor men like us may count for little in your eyes, yet how could my sense of honor permit me to take payment for the gift fortune has bestowed on me in bringing you near and lodging you beneath my roof? By God, if you speak of this again and toss me the purse once more, I shall kill myself!” So I took the purse back into my sleeve, and its weight lay heavy on me.’” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving off her permitted tale.

Then came the two hundred and seventy-fourth night.

She said, “It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Ibrahim ibn al-Mahdi said: ‘I took the purse back into my sleeve, and its weight lay heavy on me, and made to leave. When I reached his door, he said, “My lord, you are better hidden here than elsewhere, and your upkeep is no burden to me. Stay with me until God grants you relief.” “On condition,” I answered, “that you spend from that purse.” He led me to believe he accepted this condition, and I stayed with him for several days in this fashion, though he spent nothing from the purse. Then I dressed in women’s clothing, with slippers and a veil, and left his house. Once I was in the street, terrible fear seized me. I came to cross the bridge, and there was a patch of ground that had been sprinkled with water. A soldier who had once served me caught sight of me, recognized me, and shouted, “Here is the man al-Ma’mun wants!” He seized hold of me, but I shoved him and his horse, sending them both sprawling on the slippery ground—a warning to anyone who cared to take heed. People hurried over to him, while I quickened my steps until I had crossed the bridge. Then I turned into a street and found a house with a woman standing in its entrance hall. I said, “My lady, save my life, for I am a man in fear.” “You have nothing to fear,” she answered. She took me upstairs to a room, spread bedding for me, brought me food, and said, “Set your heart at rest.” While she was thus attending to me, there came a violent knocking at the door. I went out and opened it, and there was the very man I had pushed over on the bridge, approaching with his head bound up and blood running over his clothes, but without his horse. She said to him, “What has happened to you?” He answered, “I had caught the fellow, but he slipped away from me,” and told her what had happened. She brought out a strip of cloth and bandaged his head, then spread bedding for him, and he lay down in pain. Afterward she came upstairs to me and said, “I suppose you are the man in question.” “Yes,” I answered. “You have nothing to fear,” she said, and redoubled her kindness to me. I stayed with her three days. Then she said, “I fear this man may discover you, and you will fall into the very danger you dread. You must make your escape.” I asked her to let me wait until nightfall, and she said, “There is no harm in that.”

“‘When night came, I put on women’s clothing and left her house. I went to the home of a freedwoman who had belonged to our household. When she saw me, she wept and lamented, and praised Almighty God for my safety. Then she went out as though she meant to go to the market to buy provisions for her guest. Before I knew what was happening, Ibrahim al-Mawsili was approaching with his servants and soldiers, a woman walking before them. I looked closely and saw that it was the freedwoman, the mistress of the house where I was staying. She led them straight to me and delivered me into their hands. I was taken to al-Ma’mun in the clothes I was wearing. He convened a public audience and had me brought before him. When I entered, I saluted him as caliph, but he said, “May God grant you neither safety nor welcome!” I answered, “Be patient with me, Commander of the Faithful. You hold authority, and yours is the choice between punishment and pardon. Yet pardon is nearer to righteousness. God has made your pardon greater than every other pardon, just as He has made my offense greater than every other offense, Commander of the Faithful. If you punish me, it is your right; if you pardon me, it is your grace.” Then I recited these verses:

“‘“My offense against you is great, but you are greater still. Exact your due, or forgo it, and in your forbearance pardon me. If I have not acted as a noble man should, then be noble yourself.” Al-Ma’mun raised his head toward me, and I hastened to recite these two verses:

“‘“I have committed a grievous sin, but you are worthy to forgive. If you pardon me, it is bounty; if you punish me, it is justice.” Al-Ma’mun lowered his head and recited these two verses: “Whenever a friend sought to provoke me, till rage made me choke on my own spittle, I forgave his offenses and pardoned him, for fear of living without a friend.” When I heard these words, I caught in them the scent of mercy. Then he turned to his cousin, his brother Abu Ishaq, and all the courtiers present, and asked, “What do you advise in his case?” Every one of them counseled my death, though they differed over how I should be killed. Then al-Ma’mun said to Ahmad ibn Khalid, “What do you say, Ahmad?” He answered, “Commander of the Faithful, if you kill him, we have seen men such as you kill men such as he. But if you pardon him, we have never seen a man such as you pardon a man such as he.”

Then Dunyazad said to her sister Shahrazad, “How lovely your tale is, how delightful, sweet, and pleasing!” She answered, “Yet what is this beside what I shall tell you tomorrow night, if I live and the king spares me?” The king said to himself, “By God, I shall not kill her until I have heard the rest of her tale.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving off her permitted tale.

Then came the two hundred and seventy-fifth night.

She said, “It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Shahrazad said, ‘Yet what is this beside what I shall tell you tomorrow night?’ Her sister said to her, ‘Sister, finish your tale for us.’ ‘Gladly, and with all my heart,’ she answered.” Then she said, “It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when the Commander of the Faithful al-Ma’mun heard Ahmad ibn Khalid’s words, he bowed his head and recited the poet’s saying:

“‘My own people, Umaym, have killed my brother; if I loose an arrow, it strikes me.’ He also recited these verses: ‘Forgive your brother when he mingles right with wrong. Preserve the kindness you have shown him, whether he is grateful or denies it. Refrain from harsh reproach if one day he strays or acts unjustly. Do you not see how things we love and things we hate are woven in one fabric? The pleasure of long life is marred by the vexation of gray hair. Roses appear upon the boughs beside the ripe fruit gathered there. Who is there who has never done wrong? Who has nothing but goodness to his name? If you put the sons of this age to the test, you would find most of them wanting.’ When I heard these verses from him, I drew the veil from my head and cried aloud, ‘God is most great!’ Then I said, ‘May God pardon you, Commander of the Faithful!’ He replied, ‘You have nothing to fear, Uncle.’ I said, ‘Commander of the Faithful, my offense is too great for me to utter an excuse, and your pardon is too great for me to voice my thanks.’ Then I raised my voice in a stirring melody and sang these verses:

“‘He who created all noble virtues stored them in Adam’s loins for the seventh Imam. You have filled men’s hearts with awe, yet you watch over them all with a humble heart. When I disobeyed you, engulfed in the snares of error, it was only ambition that drove me. Yet you granted a pardon whose like you had never granted before, to one who had no intercessor to plead with you. You showed mercy to fledglings like the chicks of sandgrouse, and to a mother’s yearning and anguished heart.’ Al-Ma’mun said, ‘I shall follow the example of our master Joseph—blessings and peace be upon him and upon our Prophet—and say: “No reproach shall fall upon you today. May God forgive you, for He is the most merciful of the merciful.” I have restored your wealth and estates to you, Uncle. You have nothing to fear.’ I prayed fervently for him with the best of prayers, and recited these verses:

“‘You have restored my wealth, withholding none of it, and before restoring my wealth, you spared my blood. Though I should give my blood to win your favor, and all my wealth, down to the sandals on my feet, if I denied the blessings you have bestowed, I should have a greater claim to baseness than you to generosity.’ Al-Ma’mun honored him and lavished favors upon him, saying, ‘Uncle, Abu Ishaq and al-Abbas advised me to put you to death.’ I answered, ‘Abu Ishaq and al-Abbas gave you sincere counsel, Commander of the Faithful. But you have acted in a manner worthy of yourself, dispelling what I feared by granting what I hoped.’ Al-Ma’mun said, ‘By preserving your life, I have put my rancor to death. I have pardoned you without burdening you with a debt to any intercessor.’ Then al-Ma’mun prostrated himself for a long time. When he raised his head, he asked, ‘Uncle, do you know why I prostrated myself?’ I said, ‘Perhaps in thanks to God for giving you power over your enemy.’ He answered, ‘That was not my purpose. Rather, I thanked God for inspiring me to pardon you.’ Ibrahim continued: ‘Then I explained my circumstances to him and told him all that had happened to me with the barber, the soldier and his wife, and the freedwoman who had informed against me. Al-Ma’mun ordered the freedwoman brought before him. She was at home, waiting for the reward to be sent to her. When she stood before al-Ma’mun, he asked her, “What made you treat your master as you did?” “The desire for money,” she answered. He asked, “Have you a child or a husband?” “No,” she said. He ordered her to be given a hundred lashes and imprisoned for life. Then he summoned the soldier, his wife, and the barber, and they all appeared. He asked the soldier what had prompted his conduct. “The desire for money,” he answered. Al-Ma’mun said, “You must become a barber,” and appointed someone to place him in a barber’s shop to learn the trade. He honored the soldier’s wife, took her into the palace, and said, “This is a sensible woman, fit to be entrusted with important affairs.” Then he said to the barber, “The nobility of spirit you have shown calls for the greatest honor.” He ordered that the soldier’s house be handed over to him, and gave him fifteen thousand dinars besides.’”