Naguib Mahfouz - Midaq Alley (Chapter 17) lyrics

Chapter 17 Master Salim Elwan was seated, as was his won't, at his desk in the warehouse when Umm Hamida came to buy some things she needed for the house. The man had always treat­ed her politely; this time, however, that was not enough, and he invited her to sit down on a chair close to him and sent one of the workers off to bring her whatever spices she might need. Umm Hamida found this kindness quite affecting and thanked him, invoking God's blessings upon him. It was not in fact uncalculated: Master Salim had commit­ ted himself to a course of action and there was no going back. It is no easy thing, after a!for a man to live in two minds, his willpower shaken, unable to reach a decision. It upset him to see the sky of his life overcast with pressing problems that he could not find the willpower to solve. On the one hand there were his sons, whose anxiety was plain for him to see, and on the other there was the money that had accu­ mulated and which he did not know when he would find an opportu­ nity to use and whose cash value the rumor-mongers said would col­ lapse after the war. And whenever he thought that he had decided the issue•of the tide and had done with it, it would break out again, like a boil. There was also his relationship with his wife and his growing con­ cern at her declining youth and diminishing vitality. And last but not least, there was this pa**ion that troubled him and whose conflagra­ tion cast up its own share of yearning and pain. He continued, at a loss as to what to do about these cares, until he finally decided to set­ de one of them reso-lutely and deliberately. In his choice, however, he was the unwitting victim of his desires, for it was precisely the latter tyrannical pa**ion to which he decided to put an end and on which he decided to focus all his attention, as though in laying that concern to rest he would do the same for all the others. At the same time, he was not unaware of the possible consequences, nor did it escape him that he was facing a problem whose apparent resolution might bring in its train new problems yet more dangerous than their predecessors. But it was pa**ion. Pa**ion had got the better of him. It had infiltrated the depths of his soul, and his thoughts and his will had absorbed it at their very roots. Any difficulties that might obstruct his dreams had come to seem negligible to him, so that he said to himself peevishly, "My wife's finished as a woman. I'm not one of those men who slip at this age into debauchery, and there's absolutely no need to accept tor­ ment and grief. God has made things easy for us so why should we make them difficult for ourselves?" In this way, he had arrived at a con­ sidered decision, on which there could be no going back, to realize his desire, and this was why he invited Umm Hamida to sit down close by him and resolved to broach with her this matter of great importance. For a short while, Master Salim remained afraid to say anything, not because he had started to hesitate but because it was not easy for him to step down from his elevated status just like that and a**ociate with a woman such as Umm Hamida. At this moment, it so happened that the workman came in bearing the celebrated pan of green wheat. Not failing to remark the half-smile that pa**ed over Umm Hamida's lips when she caught sight of it, he decided to avail himself of this opportunity to introduce his topic, and, setting his fastidiousness and his dignity aside, said to her in a voice full of displeasure, "That pan causes me so much trouble!" ******* The woman stood up, bent over his hand, picked up the packet of henna, which the workman had placed on the desk, and went her way. Master Salim remained upset, and he scowled, the vehement expression in his eyes revealing irritation and anger. A trip at the first step! A filthy barber not worth a penny! And he'd still jostled him in the same ring! He spat on the ground with as much contempt as if the gob of spittle were el-Helw himsel£ He imagined he could hear the buzz of the rumormongers, who would get in on the act with what­ ever mockery and sarcasm they could come up with. His wife would say he'd kidnapped the daughter of a brides' tirewoman from a barber­ shop in the alley. Yes, his wife would talk, and talk, and people would talk and find a thousand things to say, all of which would reach the ears of his sons, daughters, friends, and enemies. He thought about all of that, but it never crossed his mind to retreat, for the outcome of the battle had already been decided; he had made his move, and placed his trust in God. He slowly twisted his mustaches over and over and shook his head dismissively. Imperious desire had taken control of him and gossip meant nothing to him. Had people spared him their tongue-wagging before? Hadn't they turned the pan of cracked wheat into a legendary tale to be pa**ed on from one to the other? So let them say what they wanted, and let him do what he wanted, and he would remain the undeniable master of all, making his way through a sea of bowed heads. As far as his family was concerned, his wealth was enough to make them all accept, and his new marriage would cost them no more than the beyship, had he decided to chase after it. Greatly comforted by this line of reasoning, he grew less angry and his mood improved. He had always to bear in mind that he was a man of flesh and blood or he would do himself a disservice and make himself an easy morsel for his cares to polish off. What use was his enormous wealth if he were to pine away over something it was in his power to acquire or to allow his heart to burn itself to cinders out of longing for a human body that he could have at the snap of his fingers?