One Thousand and One Nights by Hanan al-Shaykh

doorkeeper, who rushed to get food and drink. But the three merchants did not partake of the wine or the food brought to them. They seemed astonished to see that the dervishes had each lost their right eye, and that they had found themselves in such a magnificent home, belonging to three women of such incomparable beauty, charm, eloquence and generosity and yet living with the three dervishes.
    The merchants were so entranced by all that they saw that they had not heard the snores of the porter, who was so drunk thathe lay on the ground motionless. Soon, when the ladies too were very drunk, the mistress of the house said, “Come, sisters, let us do our duty.”
    The doorkeeper got up, lit more candles, replenished the incense and cleaned the table, while the shopper went to the porter and woke him, saying, “Get up, lazybones, and lend us a hand.”
    The porter got up, still unsteady on his feet, and asked, “What’s up?”
    He followed the shopper as she moved over to a large closet, inside which were two black bitch hounds, with chains around their necks. The shopper instructed the porter to lead them to the centre of the hall, where everyone was sitting. She rolled up her sleeves and picked up a braided whip. Then she returned to the closet and took out a bag made of yellow silk satin and adorned with tassels. She sat down facing the mistress of the house and took out an oud, which she tuned and began to play, singing along with great passion.
            “Oh window of my love
            Bring me lust upon the breeze.”
    The mistress of the house asked the porter to bring the two dogs to her. As soon as the dogs saw her they shook their heads as if trying to hide and began to whine, but the mistress of the house came down with the whip with heavy blows on the bitches’ flanks, unmoved by the piteous howling and weeping of the animals, counting the blows of her whip.
    The shopper still sang, in despair and pain:
            “Oh window of my love
            Bring me lust upon the breeze,
            If your mother asks for you
            I’ll hide you in my hair,
            My warmly woven hair.”
    At this the doorkeeper wailed and shrieked “Oh oh oh,” her wails mingling with the singing, the howling of the dogs and the mistress of the house counting the strokes as she beat the dogs. The shopper rolled her head against the oud, shaking the instrument on her chest as if desiring that it would produce melodies akin to the beating of her heart.
            “Oh window of my love
            Bring me lust upon the breeze,
            If your mother looks for you
            I’ll hide you beneath my sash,
            And tie it around my waist.”
    The three girls continued with their singing, screaming, beating, shrieking and wailing. The hearts of the seven guests were ignited with disgust and curiosity at what they were witnessing. They tried to pretend that everything was fine, all except for one of the merchants, who couldn’t restrain himself, and began to whisper to his friends. But the other merchants asked him to be quiet.
    So the mistress of the house continued beating the dogs and counting the strokes, while the shopper continued to sing:
            “Oh window of my love
            Bring me lust upon the breeze,
            If your mother looks for you
            I’ll hide you in my eyes
            Where pitch-black kohl resides.”
    As soon as she had finished singing, the doorkeeper, who was sitting facing the shopper, moaned “Oh oh oh” and then began to scream. She wrapped her hands around her neck but rather than strangle herself she tore her dress open, from the collar to the hem, threw herself to the ground and began to convulse, revealing to the mortification of all those present that her body was covered with black, blue and purple marks as though she too had been whipped, like the bitches.