The Alexandrian Maqāmah — The Judge’s Mercy, Abū Zayd’s Secret and Final Regret

1. The poem concludes; the judge responds

«فَلَمَّا أَحْكَمَ مَا شَادَ وَأَكْمَلَ إِنْشَادَهُ»
When the husband finished his carefully constructed poetic defence.

«عَطَفَ الْقَاضِي إِلَى الْفَتَاةِ بَعْدَ أَنْ شُغِفَ بِالْأَبْيَاتِ»
Deeply impressed by the verses, the judge turned to the young wife.

Aḥkama / shāda portray his speech as firm construction; shughifa means deeply captivated. The poem demonstrates literary talent, but skilled advocacy does not independently prove every factual assertion.

2. Generosity and the changing times

«انْقِرَاضُ جِيلِ الْكِرَامِ وَمَيْلُ الْأَيَّامِ إِلَى اللِّئَامِ»
The passing of the generous and the turning of the age toward the mean-spirited.

The judge laments a decline in patronage. Kirām / liʾām contrasts generous people with the base or ungenerous; inqirāḍ conveys disappearance.

This is a pointed moral lament in an ornate literary setting, not a statistical assessment of an entire historical period. Parallel phrases give the judgment rhetorical force.

3. The judge’s favourable assessment

«وَإِنِّي لَأُخَالُ بَعْلَكِ صَدُوقًا فِي الْكَلَامِ بَرِيئًا مِنَ الْمَلَامِ»
I think your husband truthful in speech and free of blame.

Akhālu signals an opinion or assessment rather than certain knowledge. Baʿl means husband. The cadence of *kalām* and *malām* supports the judge’s measured reply.

The judge does not deny the woman’s distress. He sees the husband’s literary skill and poverty as reasons to interpret the disputed claim more sympathetically.

4. Acknowledging debt and explaining the claim

«اعْتَرَفَ لَكِ بِالْقَرْضِ وَصَرَّحَ عَنِ الْمَحْضِ»
He acknowledged the debt to you and stated the plain truth.

Iʿtarafa means to admit; qarḍ is debt; maḥḍ denotes what is pure or unmixed. The phrases combine a meaningful distinction with rhymed prose.

The husband accepts financial hardship but contends that his literary craft is genuine. Having a craft and successfully earning from it remain two different matters.

5. Bare-boned poverty

«وَتَبَيَّنَ أَنَّهُ مَعْرُوقُ الْعَظْمِ»
It became apparent that he was reduced to bare-boned poverty.

Maʿrūq al-ʿaẓm literally suggests a bone stripped of meat. Here it is an evocative expression for destitution, not a report of a bodily injury.

This vivid idiom makes the husband’s poverty central to the judge’s sympathetic response. His limited means affect what can reasonably be demanded of him.

6. Hardship, excuse and restraint

«وَإِعْنَاتُ الْمُعْذِرِ مَلَامَةٌ وَحَبْسُ الْمُعْسِرِ مَأْثَمَةٌ»
Burdening someone with a genuine excuse is blameworthy; imprisoning a destitute debtor is characterized as sinful.

Iʿnāt is inflicting hardship; muʿdhir is a person with an excuse; muʿsir lacks financial means. The rhyming endings *malāmah/maʾthamah* reinforce the warning.

This is the judge’s appeal against harsh treatment in this case, not a complete exposition of all debt-enforcement rules and procedures.

7. Concealing need and waiting patiently

«وَكِتْمَانُ الْفَقْرِ زَهَادَةٌ وَانْتِظَارُ الْفَرَجِ بِالصَّبْرِ عِبَادَةٌ»
Concealing one’s poverty can express detachment, and patiently awaiting relief is devotion.

Zahādah here conveys restraint or freedom from grasping at wealth; faraj means relief from distress. The balanced clauses describe dignity in hardship and patience in waiting.

The idea is not to forbid seeking help when necessary. It highlights how need can be met without surrendering one’s dignity.

8. Addressing the wife with measured counsel

«فَارْجِعِي إِلَى خِدْرِكِ وَاعْذِرِي أَبَا عُذْرِكِ»
Return to your quarters, and excuse your first husband.

Khidr denotes a private women’s living space in this setting; abā ʿudhrik is a conventional expression for her first husband. The words *khidrik/ʿudhrik* echo each other.

The judge encourages reconciliation in light of the husband’s poverty. The historical setting shapes the wording of his advice.

9. Restraining speech and accepting fate

«وَنَهْنِهِي عَنْ غَرْبِكِ وَسَلِّي لِقَضَاءِ رَبِّكِ»
Temper the sharpness of your speech and find comfort in your Lord’s decree.

Gharb can denote an edge or sharpness; here it evokes sharp speech. Nahnihī and sallī are feminine imperatives directed to the wife.

The judge attempts to bring the dispute to a calmer close, using counsel rather than adding further accusations.

10. An allocation and a handful of coins

«ثُمَّ إِنَّهُ فَرَضَ لَهُمَا فِي الصَّدَقَاتِ حِصَّةً»
The judge allocated a charitable share to both spouses.

«وَنَاوَلَهُمَا مِنْ دَرَاهِمِهَا قَبْضَةً»
He also placed a handful of the charity’s dirhams in their hands.

Lahumā is dual; the gift concerns both parties. Ḥiṣṣah is an assigned share, while qabḍah is a handful. The judge’s sympathy becomes practical material assistance.

11. Small relief in carefully chosen words

«تَعَلَّلَا بِهَذِهِ الْعُلَالَةِ وَتَدَاوَيَا بِهَذِهِ الْبُلَالَةِ»
Find some solace in this little aid and treat your distress with this small relief.

ʿUlālah is a small sustenance or comfort; bulālah suggests a little moisture or alleviation. Their near-rhyme gives the encouragement grace and economy.

The judge does not portray the money as a permanent cure. It is temporary help and a reason for hope.

12. The age’s plots and labour

«وَاصْبِرَا عَلَى كَيْدِ الزَّمَانِ وَكَدِّهِ»
Be patient with the age’s plotting and its toil.

Kayd denotes plotting or contrivance; kadd means toil and exertion. The words are phonetically close but meaningfully distinct.

Iṣbirā is a dual imperative, still addressed to both spouses. The paired nouns gather different burdens of life into one compact expression.

13. Hope for a turn toward relief

«فَعَسَى اللَّهُ أَنْ يَأْتِيَ بِالْفَتْحِ أَوْ أَمْرٍ مِنْ عِنْدِهِ»
Perhaps God will bring relief or another matter from His presence.

ʿAsā introduces hope, not a guaranteed prediction; fatḥ here evokes an opening or relief.

The judge’s reply combines immediate charity, patience in present difficulties, and optimism about circumstances that may improve.

14. Freedom from captivity and wealth after want

«فَنَهَضَا وَلِلشَّيْخِ فَرْحَةُ الْمُطْلَقِ مِنَ الْإِسَارِ وَهَزَّةُ الْمُوسِرِ بَعْدَ الْإِعْسَارِ»
They rose, and the elder rejoiced like a prisoner set free or a poor man suddenly prospering.

Muṭlaq / isār evokes release from captivity; mūsir / iʿsār contrasts prosperity and hardship. Parallel imagery intensifies his delight.

His sudden joy begins the transition from judicial sympathy to the story’s comic revelation.

15. Al-Ḥārith recognises Abū Zayd

«وَكُنْتُ عَرَفْتُ أَنَّهُ أَبُو زَيْدٍ سَاعَةَ بَزَغَتْ شَمْسُهُ وَنَزَعَتْ عِرْسُهُ»
I had recognized Abū Zayd when his brilliance emerged and his wife began complaining.

Bazaghat shamsuhu imagines his eloquence as a rising sun, not a literal celestial event; ʿirs means wife.

The narrator recognizes the familiar verbal virtuoso and schemer. He must decide whether to disclose the identity at once.

16. Admiration versus disclosure

«وَكِدْتُ أُفْصِحُ عَنِ افْتِنَانِهِ وَإِثْمَارِ أَفْنَانِهِ»
I almost revealed his artistic versatility and the fruitfulness of his many branches.

Iftinān means variety of artistic modes; ithmār afnānih pictures those talents as fruit-bearing branches.

Al-Ḥārith appreciates the elder’s skill but fears that disclosure of his earlier tricks could jeopardize the kindness now shown to him.

17. Silence like rolling up a scroll

«فَأَحْجَمْتُ عَنِ الْقَوْلِ إِحْجَامَ الْمُرْتَابِ وَطَوَيْتُ ذِكْرَهُ كَطَيِّ السِّجِلِّ لِلْكِتَابِ»
I held back like a hesitant man and folded away his mention as a scroll is rolled up.

Aḥjama means to draw back; ṭawaytu dhikrahu transforms concealment into the image of rolling up written pages.

The narrator is not declaring Abū Zayd beyond suspicion. He is protecting the judge’s generosity from being withdrawn on learning of the elder’s notoriety.

18. A proposal to discover what happens next

«لَوْ أَنَّ لَنَا مَنْ يَنْطَلِقُ فِي أَثَرِهِ لَأَتَانَا بِفَصِّ خَبَرِهِ»
If only someone could follow him and return with the core of his story.

Faṣṣ khabarihi means the essential account. Al-Ḥārith avoids openly identifying Abū Zayd but suggests learning what happens after his departure.

The judge dispatches a trusted agent. It is a plot event within the narrative, not a general warrant for intrusive surveillance.

19. A messenger returns laughing

«فَمَا لَبِثَ أَنْ رَجَعَ مُتَدَهْدِهًا وَتَقَهْقَرَ مُقَهْقِهًا»
He soon returned, swaying with mirth and stepping backward in peals of laughter.

Mutadahdihan / muqahqihan enact both motion and noise. Repeated sounds help the prose mimic the agent’s uncontrollable laughter.

The judge asks «مَهِيمَ يَا أَبَا مَرْيَمَ؟»—what has happened, Abū Maryam? A serious inquiry becomes a comic scene.

20. Abū Zayd’s unrestrained celebration

«يُصَفِّقُ بِيَدَيْهِ وَيُخَالِفُ بَيْنَ رِجْلَيْهِ وَيُغَرِّدُ بِمِلْءِ شِدْقَيْهِ»
He clapped his hands, moved his feet alternately and sang at full voice.

Yuṣaffiq / yukhālif / yugharrid are present-tense verbs whose sequence conveys ongoing action. Shidq refers to the side of the mouth or jaw.

The contrast is comic: the figure who had presented himself as restrained and destitute in court is now celebrating with exuberance.

21. Two lines about narrow escape

«كَدْتُ أُصْلَى بِبَلِيَّهْ»
I almost fell into calamity.
«وَأَزُورُ السِّجْنَ لَوْلَا حَاكِمُ الْإِسْكَنْدَرِيَّهْ»
And I would have visited prison, had it not been for Alexandria’s judge.

Kadtu expresses near occurrence. Lawlā explains why the threatened consequence did not happen. Abū Zayd’s jubilant account of escaping prison puts his earlier polished self-defence in an ironic light.

22. Laughter, prayer, and a summons

«فَضَحِكَ الْقَاضِي حَتَّى هَوَتْ ذُؤَابَتُهُ وَذَوَتْ سَكِينَتُهُ»
The judge laughed until his forelock fell and his composure gave way.

«اللَّهُمَّ بِحُرْمَةِ عِبَادِكَ الْمُقَرَّبِينَ حَرِّمْ حَبْسِي عَلَى الشَّاذِينَ»
O God, spare me from imprisoning such extraordinary people.

Hawat / dhawāt and ḥurmah / ḥarrim make the scene sound playful. He regains his dignity, seeks forgiveness, and orders «عَلَيَّ بِهِ»—bring him to me.

23. The elder vanishes before another offer

«فَانْطَلَقَ مُجِدًّا فِي طَلَبِهِ ثُمَّ عَادَ بَعْدَ لَأْيٍ مُخْبِرًا بِنَبَائِهِ»
The agent set out diligently to seek him and returned after some delay with news.

The judge says «لَوْ حَضَرَ لَكَفَى الْحَذَرَ»—had he come, there would have been no need for fear. He also implies that another, better gift could have been granted.

Abū Zayd is no longer present, so the additional generosity remains an intention, not a completed payment.

24. Al-Ḥārith’s regret and two allusions

«غَشِيَتْنِي نَدَامَةُ الْفَرَزْدَقِ ... وَالْكُسَعِيِّ لَمَّا اسْتَبَانَ النَّهَارُ»
I was overcome by regret like that of al-Farazdaq, and of al-Kusaʿī when day revealed the truth.

Al-Farazdaq is remembered here for regretting divorce from his wife al-Nawwār. In the tale of al-Kusaʿī, an archer breaks his bow under a mistaken belief, only to discover his success in daylight.

Al-Ḥārith regrets missing a chance to reveal Abū Zayd’s identity in a way that might have brought him further aid. The ending turns on lost opportunity, not denial of the original gift.

25. The Alexandrian Maqāmah in perspective

CharacterSpeech or actionLiterary functionWifeComplaint and financial hardshipDisputed expectationsHusband / Abū ZaydPoetic defence, then open celebrationComic contrast between appearancesJudgeCounsel, charity and intended further aidCompassion and measured speechAl-ḤārithRecognition, silence and regretA missed opportunity

Rhymed prose, punning, imagery, allusion and dialogue transform a marital complaint into literary fiction. The reader must still distinguish each speaker’s claims from what the narrative actually establishes.