We would gather around him one evening on the stone platform. He sat at the head of the place while tranquility encompassed the house. We would listen to him and enjoy immensely with his tale that was never forgotten—Mansūr the young merchant in his shop at the beginning of the market would face you with his handsome face, his calm smile, and his clear eyes, displaying his wares before you: “This fabric from India, that from Syria, and this natural silk from China.” The intelligent merchant was known for truthfulness, honesty, and excellent goods. The name Mansūr in the market was on all tongues.
Until the great merchants began to envy him, for his trade was thriving and his goods of fabrics and silk were sought by people crowding around him because he was content with little profit. Mansūr would always repeat: “Be forgiving in your selling, and you will win many friends and customers.” One day a stranger man came, stood looking at the fabrics, touching the silk, then began selecting the finest of them.
The stranger said: “O merchant, your goods have pleased me and I wish to purchase these bundles, but I do not have with me what suffices as their price. If I come to my city, I will honor you and pay you the price.” Mansūr answered smiling: “No harm to you. Take what you wish, for it is not my custom to refuse a request.” The stranger took what he desired, chose the finest fabrics, selected the best garments, and Mansūr gathered all of that in large bundles. He carried them with him to the end of the market, then bid him farewell, saying: “May peace be your companion.” Many days and long months passed. Mansūr wanted to refresh himself from the toil of work, so he prepared himself to travel and visit this stranger merchant in his distant city.
The road was arduous and the journey difficult. Mansūr reached the city just before sunset and hurried to the market to ask about the man. He stopped before a large shop. There were many workers and many customers. At the front of the shop he saw the same stranger man. Mansūr entered upon him, but the man denied knowing him and swore that he had never seen him before, had not traveled, and had not bought anything from him. The man signaled to his workers, and they surrounded Mansūr, then drove him out of the shop. Mansūr was very sad and felt that he had been deceived when he believed a stranger and gave him many goods without receiving a single coin.
Mansūr resorted to an inn to spend his night there. He had not been long in sleep when he awoke to the sound of a drum beating in the districts of the city. Mansūr was astonished and asked the innkeeper about that. He said to him: “That is our custom in this city. When a common man dies, they beat his drum four times. When a man of higher station dies, they beat it ten times. And when the emir dies, they beat it twenty times.” An idea gathered in Mansūr’s head. He left from early morning, headed to the beater of the drum, who was still sleeping. He woke him and gave him a gold coin, asking him to beat his drum thirty times. The sound beat powerfully.
The sleeping city shook and awakened the slumberers. Confusion spread and chaos became widespread. People went out into the alleys, crying out: “O Compassionate One, what has happened? What calamity has befallen?” In the palace of the emir, the beater of the drum was summoned. The emir himself asked him why he had done that. He said: “There is a merchant named Mansūr who requested this of me after he gave me a gold coin.”
The emir became angry and said: “Bring him immediately.” Mansūr came before the emir; he was calm, his face conveying truthfulness. He recounted to him what had happened of the man’s treachery. Mansūr said: “If the emir’s death—if God forbid—were to be announced with twenty beats, then why is the death of truthfulness and honesty not announced with thirty?” The emir was amazed at the intelligence of the merchant Mansūr. He drew him near and honored him greatly. He put his heart at ease after telling him: “Truth and honesty will not die among people.” Then he inflicted upon the deceitful man a painful punishment after he had paid the price of the goods. As for Mansūr, he returned after some days to his city rich and triumphant.