8.29. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq

Syriac Physicians of the Early Abbasid Period - A Literary History of Medicine - NCBI Bookshelf An official website of the United States government Here's how you know The .gov means it's official. Federal government websites often end in .gov or .mil. Before sharing sensitive information, make sure you're on a federal government site. The site is secure. The https:// ensures that you are connecting to the official website and that any information you provide is encrypted and transmitted securely. Log in Show account info Close Account Logged in as: username Dashboard Publications Account settings Log out Access keys NCBI Homepage MyNCBI Homepage Main Content Main Navigation Bookshelf Search database Books All Databases Assembly Biocollections BioProject BioSample Books ClinVar Conserved Domains dbVar Gene Genome GEO DataSets GEO Profiles GTR Identical Protein Groups MedGen MeSH NLM Catalog Nucleotide OMIM PMC Protein Protein Clusters Protein Family Models PubChem BioAssay PubChem Compound PubChem Substance PubMed SNP SRA Structure Taxonomy ToolKit ToolKitAll ToolKitBookgh Search term Search Browse Titles Advanced Help Disclaimer NCBI Bookshelf. A service of the National Library of Medicine, National Institutes of Health. Sánchez I, Joosse NP, Watson Aet al., authors; Savage-Smith E, Swain S, van Gelder GJ, editors. A Literary History of Medicine: The ʿUyūn al-anbāʾ fī ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ of Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah [Internet]. Leiden (NL): Brill; 2019. doi: 10.1163/9789004410312_047 A Literary History of Medicine: The ʿUyūn al-anbāʾ fī ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ of Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah [Internet]. Show details Sánchez I, Joosse NP, Watson Aet al., authors; Savage-Smith E, Swain S, van Gelder GJ, editors. Leiden (NL): Brill ; 2019. Contents Search term < Prev Next > CHAPTER 8 Syriac Physicians of the Early Abbasid Period Translation and annotation: Bruce Inksetter and Emilie Savage-Smith . Geert Jan van Gelder , Translation and annotation, poetry. I propose to begin with accounts of Jūrjis, his son Bukhtīshūʿ, and other distinguished members of that family in chronological order, proceeding subsequently to accounts of other eminent physicians of that period. 8.1. Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl 1 [8.1.1] Jūrjis was experienced in the art of medicine and was knowledgeable about remedies and methods of treatment. He enjoyed the favour of the caliph al-Manṣūr, 2 who employed him as his physician, and in consequence acquired considerable prestige and substantial wealth. He also translated numerous works from Greek to Arabic at al-Manṣūr’s instigation. We read in the account of Pethion 3 the Translator that al-Manṣūr first sent for Jūrjis when he fell ill in 148/765, the year in which he built Baghdad, the City of Peace. His stomach was upset and he had no appetite, and the more his doctors treated him, the worse he felt. Finally he determined to consult them in a body, and accordingly instructed al-Rabīʿ 4 to have them all brought before him. When they were assembled, al-Manṣūr confronted them and demanded, ‘Does any one of you know of a competent physician in any city anywhere?’ ‘Yes,’ they replied, ‘at the present time, there is no one who is comparable to Jūrjis, the head physician at Gondēshāpūr. 5 He is a knowledgeable physician and has written important works on the art of medicine.’ Upon hearing this, al-Manṣūr at once dispatched an emissary to bring Jūrjis to Baghdad. When the emissary reached Gondēshāpūr, he ordered the governor of the place to have Jūrjis brought to him. When he appeared, the emissary informed him that they were to travel together to Baghdad at once. ‘I have some matters to attend to here first,’ said Jūrjis, ‘you will have to wait a few days until I am free to go with you.’ ‘If you will come with me tomorrow morning of your own volition, well and good,’ said the emissary, ‘otherwise, I am taking you with me, like it or not.’ Jūrjis refused, whereupon the emissary had him seized and put under arrest. The leading men of the town, including the Metropolitan, then went in a body to see him and urged him to comply, and in the end he agreed, first designating his son Bukhtīshūʿ to be in charge of the hospital and all matters pertaining to it and selecting two of his pupils, Ibrāhīm and Sarjis (Sergius), 6 to accompany him to Baghdad. At this, Bukhtīshūʿ begged him to select another pupil, ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā, to take with him instead. ‘Don’t leave him here,’ he said, ‘for he is a serious annoyance to the patients 7 of the hospital.’ Accordingly, Jūrjis left Sarjis behind and took ‘Īsā along with him instead, and they all set out for Baghdad. As Jūrjis was taking leave of his son Bukhtīshūʿ, the young man said to him, ‘Why are you not taking me with you?’ Jūrjis replied, ‘There is no hurry, my boy. You are going to serve kings and achieve great things.’ As soon as the party reached the caliph’s court, al-Manṣūr ordered Jūrjis brought before him. Upon entering, he greeted the caliph in Persian and in Arabic. Al-Manṣūr was greatly impressed at his visitor’s distinguished demeanour and cultivated speech, and bade him be seated. He then asked the physician about various matters, Jūrjis responding with composure. Finally al-Manṣūr said, ‘It seems to me that in you I have found the man I have been looking for,’ and he proceeded to describe his illness and its initial symptoms. ‘I shall treat you in a way you will like,’ replied Jūrjis, whereupon the caliph ordered the servants to bring a robe of honour for him and said to al-Rabīʿ, ‘Have one of our best suites of apartments placed at his disposal, and see to it that he is treated as an honoured guest.’ The next morning, Jūrjis went to see al-Manṣūr. He felt his pulse, examined a phial of his urine, and persuaded him that a lighter diet would be beneficial. With such conservative treatment, the caliph was soon his old self again. Delighted at this outcome, he ordered that the physician’s every wish should be granted. A few days later, however, al-Manṣūr said to al-Rabīʿ, ‘That man looks discontented to me. You haven’t been depriving him of something that he usually drinks, have you?’ ‘Well,’ said the chamberlain, ‘we’re not allowing him to bring wine into the palace.’ At this, the caliph cursed him roundly and said, ‘You yourself shall go and obtain for him as much wine as he wants.’ So al-Rabīʿ went out to Quṭrabbul 8 and brought back as much good wine as he could carry for Jūrjis. [8.1.2] After Jūrjis had been in Baghdad for two years, al-Manṣūr said to him, ‘Send someone to Gondēshāpūr to bring your son here, for I have heard that he is as skilled in the art of medicine as you are yourself.’ ‘He is needed there in Gondēshāpūr,’ objected Jūrjis. ‘If he were to leave, the hospital would go to rack and ruin, and the people of the town would have no one to consult when they fell ill. But I have some of my pupils here with me, young men whom I have taught myself and whom I have trained in the art of medicine until they are as skilled as I am myself.’ The caliph ordered him to bring them to him the following morning so that he might put them to the test. The next day, accordingly, Jūrjis brought ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā with him to see al-Manṣūr. The caliph questioned the young man on various matters, and found him to be quick-witted and proficient in his understanding of the art of medicine. ‘Your description was quite accurate,’ said al-Manṣūr to Jūrjis, ‘you have taught him well.’ Pethion’s account continues: 9 In the year 151/768, Jūrjis went to see the caliph on Christmas Day. ‘What shall I eat today?’ enquired al-Manṣūr. ‘Whatever the Commander of the Faithful chooses,’ replied Jūrjis, and made as though to take his leave, but when he had reached the door, the caliph called him back. ‘Who are your servants here?’ he asked. ‘My pupils,’ answered Jūrjis. ‘I have heard that you have no wife,’ said al-Manṣūr. ‘I do have a wife,’ Jūrjis said, ‘but she is old and frail, and cannot leave home to be with me here,’ and he left the caliph’s presence and went to the church. The caliph then ordered his eunuch 10 Sālim to select three attractive Roman slave-girls and to deliver them to Jūrjis, along with the sum of three thousand dinars. Sālim did as he had been ordered to do, and when Jūrjis returned home, his pupil ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā informed him what had happened and showed him the slave-girls. Jūrjis was not pleased. ‘Pupil of Satan!’ he said to ʿĪsā. ‘Why did you let them into my house? Go at once and take them back to their owner.’ Mounting his mule, he rode with ʿĪsā and the slave-girls to the caliph’s palace and handed the girls over to the eunuch. When al-Manṣūr heard of the matter, he sent for Jūrjis and asked him why he had returned the slave-girls. ‘Such persons cannot stay in the same house with me,’ answered Jūrjis, ‘because we Christians marry one woman only, and as long as she lives, we take no other wife.’ Al-Manṣūr was filled with admiration, and immediately gave orders that Jūrjis should be allowed admittance to the quarters of his wives and concubines and that he should serve as their physician. This incident enhanced his prestige even further in the caliph’s eyes. Pethion’s account goes on: In the year 152/769, Jūrjis fell gravely ill. The caliph sent servants daily to obtain news of him, and when his condition worsened, al-Manṣūr ordered him carried in a litter to the public reception of the palace. There the caliph walked out to greet him and ask how he was. ‘O Commander of the Faithful, may God prolong your life,’ cried Jūrjis, his tears flowing copiously, ‘if you would but permit me to return to my native land to see my wife and children and, if I die, to be buried there with my ancestors.’ ‘Fear God and accept Islam, Jūrjis,’ said the caliph; ‘for I can guarantee that you will see Paradise.’ ‘No,’ replied Jūrjis, ‘I shall die in the religion of my ancestors. I want to be with them wherever they are, be that Paradise or Hell.’ The caliph laughed at this. ‘I have been in the best of health ever since I set eyes on you,’ he said. ‘I used to fall ill all the time, but no longer.’ ‘Suppose I leave ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā here with you,’ said Jūrjis, ‘for I have trained him.’ At this, the caliph ordered that Jūrjis should be given 10,000 dinars and allowed to return to his native land, with a servant to accompany him. ‘If he should die on the way,’ said al-Mansūr to the servant, ‘have his body carried to his home, so that he can be buried there as he desires to be.’ In the event, however, Jūrjis was still alive when they reached Gondēshāpūr. ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā thus took Jūrjis’ place as physician to al-Manṣūr, but he abused his position to plunder metropolitans and bishops, taking their property for himself. However, he overreached when he wrote to the Metropolitan of Niṣībīn 11 demanding various church furnishings that were of substantial value, and uttering dire threats in case the Metropolitan should be slow about com-plying. ‘Are you not aware,’ he said in the letter, ‘of the power I have over the caliph? I can make him fall ill if I wish, and if I wish I can cure him.’ The Metropolitan pondered the contents of the letter, racking his brains for some means of escaping his tormentor. Finally he went to al-Rabīʿ, explained the situation to him and read him ʿĪsā’s letter. The chamberlain, in his turn, went to al-Manṣūr and informed him of what had been going on. The caliph immediately ordered that ʿĪsā ibn Shahlā should be dismissed and all his ill-gotten gains confiscated. Al-Manṣūr then ordered al-Rabīʿ to enquire for Jūrjis. ‘If he is alive,’ he said, ‘send someone to bring him here, and if he has died, have his son brought instead,’ Accordingly, the chamberlain sent a letter of enquiry to the governor of Gondēshāpūr. It so happened, however, that Jūrjis had recently fallen from the roof of his house and was too weak to travel. When the governor approached him about the matter, he answered, ‘Please inform the caliph that I shall send him a competent physician who will serve him until such time as I am well again and can go myself.’ He then sent for one of his pupils, named Ibrāhīm, and the governor sent him off to al-Rabīʿ, with a letter explaining the matter of Jūrjis’ state of health. When he arrived in Baghdad, al-Rabīʿ presented him to the caliph, who spoke to him about various matters. Ibrāhīm proved to be quick-witted and able to answer al-Manṣūr’s questions readily, with the result that the caliph granted him advancement, treated him with respect, bestowed a robe of honour upon him, paid him lavishly, and retained him for his exclusive service. Ibrāhīm continued as al-Manṣūr’s personal physician until the caliph’s death. Jūrjis is the author of the well-known Compendium ( Kunnāsh ), which was originally composed in Syriac; the Arabic translation is by Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl, see Sezgin, gas iii , 209, Ullmann, Medizin 108, no. 1; Jūrjis is one of several Arabic forms of Georgius or George. Biographies 7, 17, 32, 33, 35 are missing from Version 1, but are found in Versions 2 and 3. 2 The second Abbasid caliph (r. 136–158/754–775), founder of the city of Baghdad. 3 Pethion the Translator (fl. 2nd half 9th cent.) was the author of a lost ecclesiastical history; see Ch. 9.16 for a brief biographical entry on him. This passage, slightly paraphrased, can be found in Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 152–153. 4 Al-Rabīʿ ibn Yūnus ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Abī Farwah, who was born a slave but rose to become al-Manṣūr’s chamberlain. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Rabīʿ b. Yūnus’ (A.S. Atiya). 5 Gondēshāpūr (Jundaysābūr) was an ancient city (now ruins) to the southeast of Dizfūl in what is now southwest Iran that was reputed to be a centre of medical learning, complete with a hospital and an academy. For the reasons why much of that reputation is to be regarded as mythical, see Pormann and Savage-Smith, Medieval Islamic Medicine , 20–21. 6 I.e. Sergius. 7 Literally, ‘the people ( ahl ) of the hospital’. 8 Quṭrabbul was a village not far from Baghdad that was celebrated for its good wine. See ei 2 art. ‘Ḳuṭrabbul’ (J. Lassner). 9 Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 153–154. 10 Khādim , literally ‘servant’, is very often used as a euphemism for ‘eunuch’. 11 The modern Nusaybin, Turkey, on the southern border, adjoining the Syrian city of Qamishli. A very ancient and famous city. 8.2. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis 1 Bukhtīshūʿ means ‘servant of the Messiah’, for in the Syriac language bukht means ‘servant’ and Yashūʿ is Jesus, peace be upon him. 2 Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis knew as much as his father did about the art of medicine and was no less skilful as a practising physician. The time of his greatest renown was during the reign of Hārūn al-Rashīd, whom he served as personal physician. We read in the History of Pethion the Translator 3 that when Mūsā al-Hādī 4 fell ill, he sent an emissary to Gondēshāpūr to bring Bukhtīshūʿ to Baghdad, but the caliph died before he had arrived. Al-Hādī had summoned his physicians – Abū Quraysh ʿĪsā, 5 ‘Abd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī 6 and Dāwūd ibn Sarābiyūn 7 – and said to them, ‘You take my money and rewards, and now when I am really in need of you, you desert me.’ ‘It is our duty to do our utmost,’ replied Abū Quraysh, ‘but God grants safety.’ At this, the caliph flew into a rage, but al-Rabīʿ 8 said to him, ‘We have heard reports of a competent physician named ʿAbdīshūʿ ibn Naṣr in Nahr Ṣarṣar’. 9 The caliph immediately ordered the physician brought to him. ‘As for that lot,’ he added, ‘off with their heads.’ Al-Rabīʿ did not have the latter order carried out, knowing as he did that the caliph was not fully compos mentis because of his illness, and also aware that his own situation was secure. He did send to Ṣarṣar for the physician ʿAbdīshūʿ, and when he arrived, took him to see Mūsā. ‘Have you seen my phial of urine?’ the caliph asked him. He replied, ‘I have, O Commander of the Faithful, and I am here to prepare a remedy for you. Nine hours from now you will be well and rid of your illness.’ After leaving the caliph’s presence, he said to the three physicians, ‘Do not be concerned. You shall all return to your homes later today.’ The caliph had given ʿAbdīshūʿ ten thousand dinars to enable him to purchase the necessary medicines, but the physician had the money carried to his own home instead. He did have some medicinal materials brought to the palace, however. Calling the physicians together in a room not far from where the caliph lay, he said to them, ‘Pound this stuff vigorously so that he can hear you; that will keep him easy in mind. By the end of the day, there will be nothing to keep you here any longer.’ Every hour, the caliph would call him in and enquire about the remedy, and he would answer, ‘It is almost ready, you can hear my servants pounding the ingredients,’ whereupon the caliph would say no more. After nine hours the caliph died, and the physicians were allowed to go home. This incident took place in the year 170/786. Pethion’s account continues: In the year 174/790, when Hārūn al-Rashīd was afflicted by a migraine, he complained to Yaḥyā ibn Khālid, 10 ‘These physicians are no good at all.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ the vizier replied, ‘Abū Quraysh served both your parents as physician.’ ‘I show him respect because of his long and faithful service,’ said the caliph, ‘but he doesn’t know much about medicine. I want you to find me someone who does.’ ‘When your brother Mūsā fell ill,’ said Yaḥyā, ‘your father sent to Gondēshāpūr for a man by the name of Bukhtīshūʿ.’ ‘And then allowed him to leave afterward?’ said the caliph, ‘How so?’ ‘When the caliph saw that ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh and your mother were hostile to him, he gave him permission to return to his own country,’ explained the vizier. ‘Have the postal couriers dispatched to bring him here,’ said the caliph, ‘if he is still among the living.’ It was not long before the elder Bukhtīshūʿ, Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis, reached the court. Upon being presented to Hārūn al-Rashīd, he greeted him in both Arabic and Persian. The caliph laughed. ‘You know about dialectics,’ he said to Yaḥyā, ‘come, discuss some abstruse matters with him, I should like to hear how he argues.’ ‘No, we should call in the physicians instead,’ said the vizier, so the four of them – Abū Quraysh ʿĪsā, ‘Abd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī, Dāwūd ibn Sarābiyūn and Serjis 11 – were summoned, but as soon as they saw Bukhtīshūʿ, Abū Quraysh said, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, none of us is competent to discuss abstruse matters with this man, for he is discussion itself; he, his father and all his clan are philosophers.’ ‘We shall see,’ said al-Rashīd, and he ordered one of the servants to bring a phial of urine from the stables. No sooner had Bukhtīshūʿ set eyes on it than he exclaimed, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, this is no human urine.’ ‘Wrong!’ cried Abū Quraysh, ‘this is urine from one of the ladies of the harem.’ ‘O venerable shaykh,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘as I stand here, I declare this is no urine ever excreted by any human being. If the matter is as you say, it would appear that the lady in question has been turned into an animal.’ ‘What makes you so sure that it is not human urine?’ asked the caliph. ‘Its consistency, colour and odour are not those of human urine,’ replied Bukhtīshūʿ. ‘Who taught you your art?’ enquired Hārūn. ‘My father, Jūrjis,’ said the physician. ‘It is true, his father’s name was Jūrjis,’ chorused the others, ‘and he had no peer in his time; the caliph Abū Jaʿfar al-Manṣūr had the utmost respect for him.’ The caliph then turned to Bukhtīshūʿ and asked him, ‘What sort of diet would you recommend for the patient who produced this urine?’ ‘Some of your best barley,’ said the physician. This sally caused al-Rashīd to roar with laughter. He then ordered that Bukhtīshūʿ should be given a fine, costly robe of honour and a well-filled purse. ‘Bukhtīshūʿ,’ he said, ‘shall henceforth be chief among my physicians; the others shall be under his orders and shall obey him in all matters.’ Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis is the author of an Abbreviated Compendium ( Kunnāsh mukhtaṣar ) and a Notebook ( Tadhkirah ) that he compiled for his son, Jibrīl. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis, see Sezgin, gas iii , 210–211; Ullmann, Medizin , 109 no. 2. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 In fact, bukht does not mean ‘servant’, and it is not a Syriac word. It seems to be related to Middle Persian bōkhtan , ‘to save’ (e.g. MacKenzie, A Concise Pahlavi Dictionary , 19), and the name means ‘saved by Jesus’. The alternative form Bakhtīshūʿ is also used. 3 For Pethion, see Ch. 8.1.1 n 3 above and Ch. 9.16 . 4 The fourth Abbasid caliph (r. 169–170/785–786), successor to his father, al-Mahdī. 5 Abū Quraysh ʿĪsā al-Ṣaydalānī, an apothecary by trade who rose to become personal physician to the caliph al-Mahdī as a result of a lucky guess concerning the sex of the unborn child of the caliph’s wife, al-Khayzurān. The story is told in Elgood, Medical History , 255. 6 A member of another Nestorian family of physicians of Persian origin. See ei 2 art. ‘Tard̲j̲ama’ (D. Gutas). 7 See Ch. 6.5.1 n 90 . 8 Al-Hādī’s chamberlain, who had been serving the Abbasid caliphs in that capacity since the days of al-Mansūr. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Rabīʿ b. Yūnus’ (S. Atiya). 9 The name of one of the main canals that carried irrigation water from the Euphrates to districts around Baghdad. There was a town named Ṣarṣar, and the reference here is presumably to it, especially in view of the fact that the next time the physician’s residence is mentioned below, Ṣarṣar alone is used. 10 Yaḥyā ibn Khālid ibn Barmak was a member of the celebrated Barmakid family, who, serving as viziers to various caliphs, essentially controlled most aspects of government until 187/803, when Yaḥyā was removed from authority and imprisoned. For the Barmakid Yaḥyā ibn Khālid, see Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Flügel, 303; Tajaddud, 360; Sayyid 2/1, 315–316); ei Three art. ‘Barmakids’ (K. van Bladel); van Bladel, ‘Bactrian Background to the Barmakids’, 74–86. 11 I.e. Sergius; a man of this name is mentioned in the biography of Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl above as being one of Jūrjis’ pupils in Gondēshāpūr. In that account, Sergius is left behind in Gondēshāpūr when Jūrjis goes to treat the caliph in Baghdad. 8.3. Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ 1 [8.3.1] Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis was renowned for his outstanding skill in medical practice. He was a high-minded person, and was very successful, enjoying as he did the favour of caliphs who held him in high regard and treated him with the utmost generosity. Thanks to them, he became wealthier than any other physician. [8.3.2] Pethion the Translator informs us that in the year 175/791–792 Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā ibn Khālid ibn Barmak 2 fell ill, and Hārūn al-Rashīd appointed Bukhtīshūʿ 3 to be responsible for serving and caring for him. One day Jaʿfar said to him, ‘I should like you to select a competent physician for me, one worthy of my respect and recompense.’ ‘My son Jibrīl is more competent than I am myself.’ replied Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘There is no other physician like him.’ ‘Bring him to me,’ said Jaʿfar. Once Jibrīl had taken charge of the case, he had Jaʿfar on his feet again within three days. As a result, Jaʿfar loved him like a second self, and could not bear to be parted from him for so much as an hour; they ate and drank together. [8.3.3] About that time, one of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s concubines, having extended one arm, found herself unaccountably unable to lower it again. The physicians treated her with embrocations and oils, but to no avail. ‘This girl is no better,’ said al-Rashīd to Jaʿfar. ‘I know of a highly competent doctor.’ said Jaʿfar, ‘He is Bukhtīshūʿ’s son. Suppose we call him in and consult him about the case; he may know of some way of treating her.’ Accordingly, Jaʿfar had him summoned, and when he arrived, Hārūn al-Rashīd asked him his name. ‘Jibrīl,’ he replied. ‘What do you know about medicine?’ asked the caliph. ‘I can cool what is unnaturally hot, warm what is unnaturally cold, moisten what is unnaturally dry and dry what is unnaturally moist,’ said the physician. The caliph laughed. ‘Well, that’s what the art of medicine is all about, isn’t it?’ he said, and then he explained the strange case of the slave-girl. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ said Jibrīl, ‘if you won’t be angry with me, I do have an idea for a way of treating her.’ ‘What is it?’ asked Hārūn al-Rashīd. ‘Will you bring her out here for all to see,’ said Jibrīl, ‘so that I can do what I want to do, and I beseech you, give me time, without becoming angry at once.’ Hārūn al-Rashīd had the girl brought out, and as soon as Jibrīl saw her he ran toward her, stooped, and seized the hem of her robe, as though intending to lift it revealingly. The girl, in her alarm for her modesty, found that her limbs functioned after all: she lowered her arms, grasped the cloth with both hands, and held it down. ‘There, O Commander of the Faithful,’ said Jibrīl, ‘she is cured,’ ‘Hold both your arms out, the left and the right,’ said Hārūn al-Rashīd to the girl, and she did so, much to the amazement of all the company, including the caliph, who awarded Jibrīl 500,000 dirhams then and there. This feat enhanced his standing in al-Rashīd’s eyes even further, and he was made chief of all the court physicians. Jibrīl was asked about the cause of the girl’s illness. ‘During coitus,’ he explained, ‘a thin humour flooded this girl’s limbs, owing to the movement and the diffusion of heat. When the movement of sexual intercourse ceased suddenly, the remnant of that humour congealed inside all her nerves, and there was nothing that could release it but further movement. My idea was to cause its heat to diffuse and thus release that remnant of humour.’ [8.3.4] Pethion continues: Jibrīl went from strength to strength, to such an extent that Hārūn al-Rashīd got into the habit of saying to his companions, ‘If anyone who wants a favour from me, speak to Jibrīl about it; I do anything he asks me to do, and grant him whatever he requests.’ Even military commanders used to come to Jibrīl when they needed anything. His situation was unassailable, for Hārūn al-Rashīd never had a day’s illness for fifteen years after Jibrīl had entered his service, and the caliph attributed his continued good health to his physician. At the very end of his life, however, in Ṭūs, 4 Hārūn al-Rashīd was stricken by the illness that resulted in his death. As his condition worsened, he asked Jibrīl why he did not cure him. ‘I have always warned you against harmful food and drink and urged you to have less commerce with women,’ replied Jibrīl, ‘but you do not listen to me. Now I have asked you to return home, for your native country is better suited to your temperament, but you have refused. This is a serious illness, and I only hope God will restore you to health.’ At this, the caliph had Jibrīl imprisoned. Hārūn al-Rashīd was informed that there was a bishop in Fārs 5 who understood the art of medicine, and he sent an emissary to bring him to Ṭūs. Upon arriving, he examined the caliph, and said to him, ‘Whoever has been treating you knows nothing about medicine.’ This further widened the rift between the caliph and Jibrīl. But al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ, 6 who liked Jibrīl and saw that the bishop was an imposter who was merely seeking to feather his own nest, continued to stand by the physician. Meanwhile, the bishop was treating Hārūn al-Rashīd. As the caliph’s condition deteriorated, the rascally bishop would say to him, ‘You will soon be restored to health,’ adding, ‘this illness is all the result of the mistakes made by Jibrīl.’ The caliph then ordered Jibrīl put to death, but al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ would not have that order carried out, for by this time he saw that there was no hope for Hārūn al-Rashīd, and accordingly protected the physician. The caliph died a few days later. At about that same time, al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ fell ill with a severe attack of colic. The doctors despaired of him, but under Jibrīl’s mild, judicious treatment he recovered. This experience caused him to like and admire the physician more than ever. [8.3.5] Pethion continues: When Muḥammad al-Amīn 7 became caliph, Jibrīl approached him and was very well received; the new caliph treated him with respect and showered money upon him to an even greater extent than his father had done, and would eat and drink only with Jibrīl’s approval. But when al-Amīn was defeated and al-Maʾmūn became caliph, 8 he wrote to al-Ḥasan ibn Sahl, 9 whom he had dispatched to Baghdad in his stead, instructing him to arrest Jibrīl and throw him into prison, for after the death of his father, Hārūn al-Rashīd, the physician had not rallied to his cause, but had thrown in his lot with his brother, al-Amīn. Al-Ḥasan ibn Sahl did as he had been ordered to do, but in the year 202/817–818, he himself fell gravely ill. His physicians treated him, but to no avail, and so he had Jibrīl released from prison and asked him to treat him. Under Jibrīl’s care, he recovered within a few days. He surreptitiously rewarded the physician generously, and wrote to al-Maʾmūn explaining what had happened and how he had regained his health thanks to Jibrīl’s ministrations. What, he asked, should be done about him? Al-Maʾmūn wrote back that Jibrīl should be pardoned. Pethion goes on: When al-Maʾmūn entered Baghdad in the year 205/820–821, he ordered Jibrīl to stay at home and not serve at the palace. He sent for a son-in-law of Jibrīl’s named Mīkhāʾīl, who was a medical practitioner, appointed him in Jibrīl’s place and honoured him greatly in order to spite Jibrīl. But then, in the year 210/825–826, the caliph fell seriously ill. He was treated by all the most illustrious physicians, but they were unable to help him. ‘Their potions are only making me worse,’ he said to Mīkhāʾīl. ‘Summon all the physicians and consult them concerning my case.’ At this, the caliph’s brother, Abū ʿĪsā, 10 said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, suppose we were to call in Jibrīl? He has been familiar with our temperaments since we were children.’ The caliph pretended he had not heard, and another of his brothers, Abū Isḥāq, 11 sent for a different physician, Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, 12 but he was met with a torrent of abuse, insults and vilification on the part of the caliph’s personal physician, Mīkhāʾīl. Al-Maʾmūn’s condition continued to deteriorate, to the point where he was too weak to take his medicines, and then he was again reminded of Jibrīl, and this time agreed that he should be summoned. When he arrived, he altered the whole management of the case, with the result that the caliph had rallied by the very next day. After three days he was definitely on the mend, much to his satisfaction, and a few days later he had fully recovered. Jibrīl told him that he might eat and drink, and he did. Subsequently, when al-Maʾmūn and his brother, Abū ʿĪsā, were sitting drinking together, Abū ʿĪsā said to the caliph, ‘There is no one like that man. Would it not be appropriate to honour him?’ Al-Maʾmūn thereupon ordered that Jibrīl should receive a million dirhams and 6,000 ass-loads (1,000 kurr 13 ) of wheat, and that furthermore, all the possessions and properties that had been confiscated from him should be restored to him. When the caliph spoke to him, he would address him familiarly as ‘Abū ʿĪsā Jibrīl’, and he honoured him even more than his father had done. So highly was Jibrīl regarded that anyone who had been appointed to an administrative post would meet with him and pay his respects before going out to take up his new duties. The caliph treated him as though he had been his father, while his former personal physician, Jibrīl’s son-in-law Mīkhāʾīl, fell into obscurity and disregard. [8.3.6] The following account 14 is by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: 15 I called on Jibrīl at his home on the esplanade one day in July, and found him at a table with a tray of good-sized squabs, roasted and dressed with peppers, upon it. He was eating these squabs, and invited me to join him, but I declined. ‘How can I eat such food at this time of year, being only a young man, as I am?’ I said. Jibrīl then asked me, ‘What does the expression “dietary regime” mean, according to you?’ ‘Avoidance of injurious kinds of food,’ I replied. ‘No,’ he said, ‘that is not what it means,’ and then he added, ‘I do not know of anyone, whether of great or humble station, who can abstain from any particular food throughout his life, unless he dislikes it, with no inclination toward it in his soul. As a rule, a person may refrain from eating something for a while, but then is compelled to do so, perhaps because for some reason there is nothing else to be had, or to help an invalid who is staying in his house, or at the invitation of a friend, or because of a sudden craving for it. When he eats that food, after not having eaten it for a long time, his nature does not accept it and recoils from it, and the result is a series of abdominal upsets, which may even cause his death. The way to good health is to train the body in eating injurious kinds of food until it becomes accustomed to them, by eating one kind of such food every day – never two kinds in the same day; and if the person eats one such kind of food one day, he should not do so again the following morning. If a person has trained his body in this way, his nature will not rebel when circumstances make it necessary for him to eat large quantities of such foods. We know how the body becomes habituated to laxatives when they are taken in excess, with the result that they do not produce their usual effect. Look at the people of al-Andalus: when one of them is suffering from constipation, he has to take three dirhams’ weight of scammony 16 to produce the effect that a weight of half a dirham would produce here in this country. Now, if the body can become habituated to medicines to the point of preventing them from producing their usual effect, how much more readily can it become habituated to foods, even injurious kinds.’ Yūsuf adds, ‘I told this story to Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl. He asked me to dictate it to him while he wrote it down with his own hand.’ [8.3.7] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm also relates the following account: Sulaymān, a eunuch from Khorasan who was a mawlā 17 of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s, told me that one time when the court was in al-Ḥirah, 18 he was standing in attendance on the caliph as he ate his noon meal one day, when in came ʿAwn al-ʿIbādī al-Jawharī, 19 bearing a platter with a splendid fat fish on it, which he placed before Hārūn al-Rashīd, along with some stuffing for it that he had obtained. Hārūn al-Rashīd made as though to take some of it, but Jibrīl stopped him, making a sign to the steward to indicate that he should take the dish away. The caliph was well aware of the byplay. When the table was cleared and Hārūn al-Rashīd washed his hands, Jibrīl left the room. Sulaymān went on, ‘Hārūn al-Rashīd ordered me to follow him, keeping out of sight, to see what he was up to, and to report back to him. I obeyed, but I think Jibrīl had spotted me, for he acted very cautious. He went to a room in ʿAwn’s suite of apartments and called for food; when it was brought, it included the fish. He then called for three silver goblets. Into one of these he put a morsel of the fish and over it poured some Ṭīzanābādh 20 wine, without adding any water, and said, “This is for Jibrīl.” He put another morsel of the fish in another of the goblets, poured snow-cooled water over it, and said, “This is for the Commander of the Faithful if he does not eat anything else with his fish.” Lastly, he put another morsel of the fish into the third goblet, added several pieces of meat of various kinds, including a slice from a roast, sweets, pickled dishes, chicken, and vegetables, and poured snow-cooled water over all, saying, “This is the food of the Commander of the Faithful if he eats other things with his fish.” He then handed the three goblets to the steward and said to him, “Keep these until the Commander of the Faithful awakens from his siesta.”’ The account of Sulaymān the eunuch continues: Jibrīl then attacked the fish himself and ate until he could eat no more. From time to time, feeling thirsty, he would call for a cup of wine, which he would drink neat. Finally he went to sleep. When Hārūn al-Rashīd awoke, he sent for me and asked me what I had found out about Jibrīl, and whether he had eaten any of the fish or not. When I told him what I had seen, he had the three goblets brought to him. In the goblet into which the wine had been poured, the morsel of fish had disintegrated completely; there was not a scrap of it left. In the second goblet, the one which had had snow-cooled water poured into it, the morsel of fish had swollen to more than double its former size, while the contents of the third goblet, the one with the meat and fish, had developed a putrid odour. Hārūn al-Rashīd immediately ordered me to take five thousand dinars to Jibrīl. ‘Who could blame me for regarding that man with affection, considering the way he looks after me?’ he said. Accordingly, I delivered the money to Jibrīl. [8.3.8] Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 21 in his book The Practical Ethics of the Physician , gives an account that he attributes to ʿĪsā ibn Māssah, 22 who asserts that he had it first-hand from Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. 23 Ibn Māsawayh, he says, told him that al-Rashīd, while in Mecca on pilgrimage, said to Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘Do you realize just how highly I value you, Jibrīl?’ ‘How could I not realize it, Sire?’ was the reply. ‘I have frequently invoked God’s blessing on you while we were halted,’ said the caliph. Turning then to the crowd of Banū Hāshim, 24 he said, ‘Perhaps you find my words objectionable?’ ‘He is a dhimmī , 25 Sire,’ they murmured. ‘Yes,’ said the caliph, ‘but my physical health and vigour depend on him, and the welfare of the Muslims depends on me, so it follows that their welfare is contingent on his continued good health and survival.’ ‘That is true, O Commander of the Faithful,’ they acknowledged. [8.3.9] The following account 26 is taken from a work by an historian, who quotes the physician Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ as saying, ‘I once purchased an estate for 700,000 dirhams, of which I paid part, but did not have the resources to pay the balance. I had gone to call on Yaḥyā ibn Khālid, 27 whose children were also present. I must have been looking preoccupied, because he asked me whether I had something on my mind. “Yes,” I said, “I have purchased an estate for 700,000 dirhams, and I have paid part of that sum, but just now do not have enough on hand to pay the balance.” Jibrīl’s account continues, ‘He called forthwith for pen and ink and wrote, “Pay to the order of Jibrīl the sum of 700,000 dirhams.” He then passed the order to his children, and both of them wrote in “300,000”.’ Jibrīl’s account goes on, ‘I exclaimed, “May I be your ransom! I have paid most of the price; the remainder is only a small sum.” “It is yours to spend,” he said, “you never know what may happen.” I then went to the palace, and when the Commander of the Faithful saw me, he asked me what had kept me. “O Commander of the Faithful,” I said, “I have been to visit your father and brothers,” and went on to tell him of their generosity toward me, “merely,” I concluded, “because of my service to you.” “And what am I?” said the caliph. Calling for his horse, he rode to Yaḥyā’s house. “O my father,” he said, “Jibrīl has told me the whole story. And I? am I not one of your children as well?” “O Commander of the Faithful,” said Yaḥyā, “order what you will, and he shall have it,” whereupon the caliph ordered that I should be given 500,000 dirhams.’ [8.3.10] The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm the astrologer, 28 known as Ibn al-Dāyah. 29 Umm Jaʿfar bint Abī l-Faḍl 30 held gatherings in the mansion of ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī, 31 where she lived. These were attended exclusively by astrologers and physicians, and whenever she was troubled by some complaint, she would by no means consult a physician without assembling all her regular guests from both professions, who had to wait until she came in and was seated. There were two places where she invariably sat: a window overlooking a large shop just across the way from the main entrance to the house, and a small door opposite the domestic mosque. The astrologers and physicians would take their places near the place she had selected that day, and she would then announce her ailment, whatever it was. The physicians would take counsel together to reach a diagnosis and recommend therapy. If they could not reach agreement, the astrologers would join the discussion, indicating the view that they considered correct. Umm Jaʿfar would then ask the astrologers to select an appropriate time for her therapy. If they did not agree, the physicians would join the discussion, and would give judgement in favour of the time that seemed to them to be logically the most compelling. It so happened on one occasion that Umm Jaʿfar fell ill just when she had joined the hajj-caravan and was about to set out on the pilgrimage, for the last time, as it turned out. The physicians agreed that her disorder required bloodletting and that her legs should be cupped, and the astrologers selected a day suitable for the operation. It was Ramadan, and consequently the cupping could be done only at the end of the day. Her regular consulting astrologers included al-Ḥasan ibn Muḥammad al-Ṭūsī al-Tamīmī, known as al-Abaḥḥ, 32 ʿUmar ibn al-Farḥān al-Ṭabarī, 33 and a Jew named Shuʿayb. Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm’s account continues: If al-Abaḥḥ chanced to be ill, or for some other reason was unable to attend Umm Jaʿfar’s meeting, I would attend in his place. As it happened, I was on hand when the time for Umm Jaʿfar’s cupping was decided upon, and there I met a son of Dāwūd ibn Sarāfīyūn, 34 a young man, looking as though he were not yet twenty years of age. Umm Jaʿfar had given instructions that he should attend with the physicians in the expectation that he would benefit by associating with more experienced colleagues, and she had asked all her attendant physicians to teach him and give him their attention, out of her regard for his father, whose care she greatly appreciated. When I arrived, he was disputing with a physician from al-Ahwāz, 35 who was also a monk, and whom Umm Jaʿfar had invited to be present that day. He and the young man were discussing the question of the drinking of water by a person who awakens from sleep in the night. Ibn Dāwūd said, ‘By God, there is no one more stupid than a person who drinks water after having awakened from sleep!’ Just as the young man made that pronouncement, Jibrīl appeared at the door. Even before he had entered the meeting, he said, ‘By God, even more stupid than that is the person who has a fire in his liver and fails to extinguish it.’ He then entered, and asked who it was who had made the statement he had just heard, and upon being told that it had been Ibn Dāwūd, he reprimanded the young man for what he had said: ‘Your father was a distinguished practitioner of the art of medicine, and here you are saying something like what I just heard you say.’ Ibn Dāwūd replied, ‘Sir, may God honour you, you do not hold that a person may drink water upon awakening from sleep, do you?’ ‘I do hold that that is permissible,’ said Jibrīl, ‘in the case of a person with a hot temperament whose stomach is dry, or one who has eaten salt food at his evening meal. However, I say that it is not permissible in the case of a person whose stomach is moist or one with salty phlegm, for in the former case, abstaining from drinking water will help correct the moist condition of the stomach, and in the latter, if the patient does not drink water, part of the salty phlegm will consume the rest.’ None of the company said anything to that except me. ‘Abū ʿĪsā,’ I said, ‘there is one more issue.’ ‘What is it?’ asked Jibrīl. ‘You are assuming that the thirsty person knows as much about medicine as you do,’ I said, ‘and will be able to tell whether his thirst is the result of having eaten bitter kinds of food, or whether it is being caused by salty phlegm.’ Jibrīl laughed at that, and then said, ‘When you wake up at night feeling thirsty, put one foot out from under the blanket and lie there for a short time. If your thirst increases, it is being caused by a hot temperament or food that should have been taken with water. In that case, you should get up and have a drink. But if instead you find that you have become somewhat less thirsty, your thirst is the result of salty phlegm, and you should not drink any water.’ [8.3.11] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm’s account continues: Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī 36 once asked Jibrīl about the disorder known as warishkīn . 37 ‘It is a compound name, from the Persian,’ he replied ‘made up of the words for “break” and “chest”. The word for “chest” in literary Persian is war , although the colloquial pronunciation is bar , and the word for “break” is ishkīn , 38 and putting these two words together, we get warishkīn , that is, a disorder that necessitates the breaking of the chest. 39 As a rule, it does not affect the patient very seriously, for they usually recover. However, a recovered patient is at risk of a relapse for a year, unless he has a substantial natural loss of blood, either from the nose or from somewhere lower down, during the course of the illness or some time during the following year. If that happens, he will fully recover.’ ‘A year!’ said Abū Isḥāq in astonishment. ‘Yes, may God make me a ransom for you! And moreover, there is another disease that people tend to take too lightly, and that is measles. 40 I can never be certain for a full year that a patient who has caught measles will not suffer a relapse, unless, after the disease has run its course, he has a bowel movement that nearly kills him, or else a large abscess develops on him. Either of those assures me that he will recover.’ [8.3.12] Yūsuf’s account continues: Jibrīl called on Abū Isḥāq one day, following an illness that he had had. Jibrīl had given him permission to eat meat to thicken his blood, but when he sat down he observed that a dish of gruel had been set before his host, and the physician told the steward to have it taken away. I asked him why, and he replied, ‘I have never permitted a caliph who had been feverish for even a single day to eat gruel for a full year.’ Abū Isḥāq asked him, ‘Which kind of gruel do you mean, the kind made with sour milk or the kind without?’ ‘The kind without,’ he replied; ‘I do not allow a patient to eat it for a year. Logically, however, according to the principles of medicine, gruel made with sour milk should not be eaten either, until three years have passed since the illness.’ [8.3.13] Maymūn ibn Hārūn 41 relates the following anecdote on the authority of Saʿīd ibn Isḥāq al-Naṣrānī, 42 whose account runs as follows: Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ told me that he had once been with Hārūn al-Rashīd and his two sons, al-Maʾmūn and Muḥammad al-Amīn, in al-Raqqah. 43 ‘Hārūn al-Rashīd,’ he said, ‘was a stout man who enjoyed his food and drink. One day, after having eaten a meal comprising a variety of foods, he went to the latrine, where he fainted and had to be carried out. He subsequently sank more deeply into unconsciousness, to such an extent that all the court was sure that he was about to die. I was sent for, and as soon as I arrived I felt his pulse, which was barely perceptible. I recalled that he had been complaining of a feeling of fullness and palpitations, and I said to the company, “He is about to die. He must be cupped immediately.” Al-Maʾmūn agreed to this, and the cupper was sent for. I had the caliph placed in a sitting position. When the cupper had placed the cups and began to suck, I saw that redness had appeared on the skin of the site. This encouraged me, for I knew that Hārūn al-Rashīd was alive. “Make your incision now,” I said to the cupper, and he did. The blood flowed, and I prostrated myself in thanks for the grace of God. The more blood was taken, the more the caliph moved his head and the better his colour became, and finally he asked, “Where am I?” We spoke encouragingly to him and gave him some breast of francolin 44 to eat and wine to drink, constantly making the air fragrant with perfumes and scents near his nose, until finally his strength was restored. We then allowed his entourage to enter the room, since God had granted him recovery.’ ‘Hārūn al-Rashīd then said to his assembled officers, “I have engaged you for the sole purpose of keeping me safe, and yet when this happened to me, not one of you was of the slightest use to me except this youth. I pay him very little, whereas I pay you handsomely. I want every one of you to take a share of what you have acquired from the grace, favour and generosity that I bestow upon you, and give it to him.” They were not slow to comply: they showered him with estates, properties and cash, and by the time he left he was as wealthy as any caliph.’ ‘A few days later, Hārūn al-Rashīd had his captain of the guard brought in and asked him how much his annual stipend was. The captain replied that he earned 300,000 dirhams yearly. The caliph then asked the same question of his chief of police, who answered that he made 500,000 dirhams a year, and his chamberlain, who said that he drew 1,000,000 dirhams per year. Al-Rashīd then said, “I have not been fair to you. Here these officers, who protect me from my human enemies, draw the stipends you have just heard, while you, who protect me from illnesses and distempers, earn only the amount that you mentioned,” and he ordered that I was to be paid 100 million dirhams. “Sire,” I said, “I have no need of such a munificent salary. Only give me the wherewithal to purchase some estates.” He did so, and I used his gifts to purchase estates that bring in one million dirhams in revenue. Furthermore, all my estates are my own absolute property, I do not hold them in fief.’ [8.3.14] The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī tells how Jibrīl sought refuge with him when his house was sacked by a mob during the caliphate of Muḥammad al-Amīn. 45 He took the physician into his own house and protected him from people who were trying to kill him. In Abū Isḥāq’s own words: I observed extreme dismay on Jibrīl’s part and intense grief and despair over the destruction of his property; it was difficult to imagine that anyone could feel quite so strongly about worldly goods. Then, when the Whites revolted and the ʿAlid faction was victorious in Basra and al-Ahwāz, 46 he came up to me in high spirits, as though he had just come into 100,000 dinars. ‘I see that you are feeling cheerful, Abū ʿĪsā,’ I said. ‘By God, I am,’ he said, ‘couldn’t be happier.’ I asked him why, and he replied that the ʿAlids had seized his estates and erected boundary markers there. ‘You’re a strange fellow,’ I said, ‘when a mob plundered some property of yours, you went nearly mad with grief, yet now, when the ʿAlids have got all your property, here you are, as lively as can be.’ ‘I was overcome with horror at what that mob did to me,’ he explained, ‘because I had been attacked in my own sanctum; I was robbed of my strength, and those whose duty it was to protect me had betrayed me. What the ʿAlids have done, on the other hand, is much less horrifying to me. You see, it is utterly impossible for a man like me to live and be regarded with the same benevolence under two different regimes. Had the ʿAlids not seized my estates as they have done, had they spared my factors and the bailiffs responsible for my estates and farms – knowing as they did that I was loyal to my patrons, through whose generosity God has showered me with benefits – it would logically have been because they were saying to one another, “Jibrīl has always been favourable to us while his friends were in power, he has always contributed generously to our cause and provided us with information about his patrons,” and once word got back to the caliph, he would have had me put to death. That is why I am feeling happy: they have taken my property, but my life has been spared. These ignorant miscreants have got my land, but they have not got me.’ [8.3.15] Yūsuf’s account continues as follows: I have heard the following story from the eunuch Faraj, known as Abū Khurāsān, who is a mawlā of Ṣāliḥ ibn al-Rashīd 47 and also his agent. In his own words: My patron, Ṣāliḥ ibn al-Rashīd, was the governor of Basra, and his prefect there was Abū l-Rāzī. 48 When Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ was having his house built on the esplanade, he asked my patron to give him five hundred teak logs. 49 Now a teak log costs thirteen dinars, and to my patron that seemed like a pretty costly gift, so he refused, but offered to write to Abū l-Rāzī and have him ship two hundred teak logs to Jibrīl. ‘Pray don’t trouble yourself,’ said Jibrīl, ‘I don’t need them.’ Faraj continued, I said to my patron, ‘I suspect Jibrīl is planning to do you a bad turn, out of resentment.’ ‘Jibrīl is no threat to me,’ he replied, ‘for I never ask him to prescribe medicine for me or to treat me.’ Subsequently, my patron decided to visit the Commander of the Faithful, al-Maʾmūn. When he was seated in the caliph’s presence, Jibrīl said to al-Maʾmūn, ‘You do not look well, Sire,’ and he went up to him and felt his pulse. Then he said, ‘The Commander of the Faithful should take a drink of oxymel 50 and postpone his noon meal until we know what is going on.’ The caliph did as Jibrīl had advised. The physician took his pulse over and over again, but said nothing. Finally, some of his servants came in with a loaf of bread and some squash, beans and a few more such things. Jibrīl said to the caliph, ‘I do not think the Commander of the Faithful should eat any meat today. He should eat only foods like these.’ The caliph ate them, and then took his siesta. When he awoke, Jibrīl said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, the aroma of date wine causes increased heat. It would be best to withdraw,’ and al-Maʾmūn withdrew. All the expense my patron had incurred had gone for naught! Then Jibrīl remarked to me, ‘You know, Abū Khurāsān, the saving on the difference between two hundred and five hundred teak logs hardly outweighs the cost of a visit to the caliph.’ [8.3.16] Another account by Yūsuf runs as follows: I had this story from Jūrjis ibn Mīkhāʾīl, who had it from Jibrīl, his maternal uncle. Jibrīl had great respect for that young man because of his extensive learning. I myself do not know of anyone of that family, apart from Jibrīl himself, who was more learned than Jūrjis ibn Mīkhāʾīl, although he was a very vain and frivolous youth. Jibrīl, he said, had told him that on 1 Muḥarram 187 [30 December 802], he had been concerned because Hārūn al-Rashīd had no appetite. He could find nothing from an examination of the caliph’s urine or from his pulse to indicate that he was ill, so he said to al-Rashīd, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, you are in excellent health, praised be God, so I am at a loss to explain why you have not finished your breakfast.’ After I had said something to this effect several times, the caliph said to me, ‘I think Baghdad is unhealthy, yet I don’t want to go far away just now. Do you know of some nearby place where the air is wholesome?’ ‘What about al-Ḥīrah?’ I suggested. ‘I have stayed in al-Ḥīrah any number of times,’ said he, ‘and my visits are a nuisance for ʿAwn al-ʿIbādī. Besides, it’s too far away.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ I said, ‘al-Anbār 51 is a good place, and its climate is even healthier than that of al-Ḥīrah.’ He went there, but his appetite was no better. On the contrary, he ate less than ever, and nothing at all on Thursday. 52 This was two days and a night before he had Jaʿfar executed. He ordered Jaʿfar, who was also fasting, to attend him at supper. Hārūn al-Rashīd ate almost nothing, and Jaʿfar said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, you should try to eat something.’ ‘If I wished, I could eat more,’ said the caliph, ‘but I prefer to spend the night without too much in my stomach, so that I feel hungry when I awake and take my morning meal with the ladies of the harem.’ Early Friday morning, the caliph went out on horseback, accompanied by Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā, for a breath of fresh air. As I watched, I saw that he had put his arm into Jaʿfar’s sleeve all the way to his body, drawn him close, embraced him, and kissed his eyes. They trotted off for a distance of more than 1,000 cubits, hand in hand all the way, and then returned. ‘By my life,’ said Hārūn al-Rashīd to Jaʿfar, ‘you started off with a drink this morning, and you have made it a day of happiness. Now I am going to be occupied with my household.’ Then, turning to me, he said, ‘Jibrīl, I am going to have something to eat. You stay with my brother here and join him in his happiness.’ Accordingly, I went with Jaʿfar, who had some food brought, and we ate together. He then sent for the blind singer, Abū Zakkār, to perform for the two of us alone. One servant after another came in and whispered something to Jaʿfar, and every time this happened he would sigh and say, ‘This looks bad, Abū ʿĪsā: the Commander of the Faithful still has eaten nothing. I fear that he is ill, and that is why he has no appetite.’ Every time he wished to drink a cup, he would tell Abū Zakkār to sing these lines: 53 When the Banū Mundhir 54 were finished, there where the monk built this church, They had become such that no fearful person would fear them nor any aspiring person could wish for anything from them. Their clothes were made of silk: Nobody would bring them wool. Their corpse [ sic ] is like a plaything Brought by a rider to … 55 (?) Abū Zakkār would sing that melody, and Jaʿfar never asked him for any other. So we passed the time until after the night-prayer. Then Abū Hāshim Masrūr the elder 56 and his second-in-command, Harthamah ibn Aʿyan, 57 accompanied by a substantial body of men-at-arms, burst in upon us. Harthamah grasped Jaʿfar by the arm and said to him, ‘On your feet, filthy swine!’ Jibrīl’s account continues: No one said anything to me or ordered me to do anything, so I went home at once, comprehending nothing. But before I had been there for so long as half an hour, a messenger from Hārūn al-Rashīd arrived and said I was to go and see the caliph at once. When I entered, there was al-Rashīd with Jaʿfar’s head in a large basin in front of him. ‘Good evening, Jibrīl,’ he said. ‘Weren’t you asking me this morning why I was not hungry?’ ‘Yes, I was, O Commander of the Faithful,’ I said. ‘It was because I was thinking about that which you see before you,’ he explained, ‘but tonight, Jibrīl, tonight I am as hungry as a camel. Bring on supper! You will be astonished at how much more I can eat now. I was eating a bite at a time so as not to over-burden my stomach and make myself ill.’ He then called for food, fell to at once and ate heartily. [8.3.17] Yūsuf relates the following account on the authority of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. 58 In the caliphate of the Commander of the Faithful, Muḥammad al-Amīn, Ibrahīm was absent from the caliph’s council meeting one evening, having taken a dose of physic. Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ called on him the following morning to convey greetings from al-Amīn and to ask him how his condition was responding to the physic. Then he came close and murmured, ‘The Commander of the Faithful is making preparations to send ʿAlī ibn ʿĪsā ibn Māhān 59 to Khorasan to capture al-Maʾmūn and bring him to Baghdad in silver shackles’. 60 In Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī’s own words: Jibrīl said that he would renounce the Christian religion if al-Maʾmūn did not defeat and kill al-Amīn and replace him as caliph. I said to him, ‘What on earth makes you say such a thing?’ ‘Because,’ he said, ‘this caliph is delusional. He became intoxicated last night and told Abū ʿIṣmah al-Shīʿī, 61 the captain of the guard, to take off his black clothing and made him put on my clothes, including my sash and my hat, and he made me put on the captain’s black gown, sword and belt. Then he had me sit in the captain’s place and had Abū ʿIṣmah sit in my place until daybreak, and he said to us, “There, I have made you trade places: each of you is now assigned the other’s duties.” I thought to myself, “God must be about to withdraw His grace from al-Amīn, considering the way he himself abuses it. Here he has made a Christian responsible for guarding and protecting him, and Christianity is the most submissive of religions, for no other religion requires its followers to submit to the hateful actions of an enemy, such as willingly performing labour on demand, walking an extra mile when compelled to walk one, or turning the other cheek when slapped in the face. Only my religion is like that. So I judged that his power must be about to wane. And then, when he chose as his physician – the person in charge of maintaining his life, ensuring his physical welfare and serving his nature – Abū ʿIṣmah, of all people, who knows absolutely nothing whatever of these matters, I judged that God would surely not prolong his life, and that his end was near.” Abū Isḥāq 62 adds, ‘And indeed, it all fell out as Jibrīl had predicted.’ [8.3.18] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm relates that he heard Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ tell Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī that he had been at the house of al-ʿAbbās ibn Muḥammad 63 when a poet had entered and improvised verses in praise of him. Jibrīl said he had listened until the poet uttered the following line: 64 If one said to al-ʿAbbās, ‘O son of Muḥammad, say No! and you will live forever,’ he would not say it. Continuing with Jibrīl’s account: I could not contain myself at that, for I knew that al-ʿAbbās was the meanest sod of the age, so I called out to the poet, ‘That was irony, wasn’t it? You said “say No”, but you really meant “say Yes”, didn’t you?’ Al-ʿAbbās smiled grimly, and then said to me, ‘Leave this house, God’s curse on you.’ I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – say: the poet referred to here is Rabīʿah al-Raqqī. [8.3.19] Yūsuf also relates: On that same occasion, I heard Jibrīl tell Abū Isḥāq that he had gone to call on al-ʿAbbās the day after the end of the Christian fast, and had found him with his head aching from all the date wine he had drunk the previous day. This was before Jibrīl had entered the employ of al-Rashīd. He greeted al-ʿAbbās with ‘May God exalt the emir! How is Your Excellency this morning?’ ‘Just as you would like to see me,’ said al-ʿAbbās. ‘Not at all: not as I would like, not as God would like, and not as Satan would like either,’ returned Jibrīl. ‘What the deuce do you mean, God’s curse on you?’ said al-ʿAbbās angrily. ‘I have proof,’ said Jibrīl. ‘Out with your proof, then,’ said al-ʿAbbās, ‘otherwise I’ll mend your manners for you: you’ll never enter any house of mine again.’ ‘What I should like,’ said Jibrīl, ‘would be for you to be Commander of the Faithful. Is that the case?’ ‘No’ admitted al-ʿAbbās. ‘And what God would like,’ Jibrīl continued, ‘would be for His servants to obey him in respect of the things He has commanded and prohibited. Is that the case with you, O emir?’ ‘No,’ said al-ʿAbbās again, ‘I ask pardon of God.’ ‘And what Satan would like,’ Jibrīl went on, ‘would be for God’s servants to disobey Him and reject Him as Lord. Is that the case with you, O emir?’ ‘No,’ said al-ʿAbbās, ‘but don’t let me hear you saying this sort of thing ever again.’ [8.3.20] The following is from Pethion the Translator: When al-Maʾmūn decided to undertake an expedition into Roman territory in the year 213/828, Jibrīl was very ill. When al-Maʾmūn saw what a serious state he was in, he asked the physician to send his son Bukhtīshūʿ to accompany the expedition. Jibrīl sent for him, and the young man proved to be much like his father as far as his intelligence, knowledge and general merit went. Al-Maʾmūn interviewed him, and when he heard Bukhtīshūʿ’s answers to his questions, the caliph was very pleased, showed him the utmost respect, made him an important member of his entourage, and took him along on his expedition against the Romans. After al-Maʾmūn’s departure, Jibrīl’s illness dragged on until finally it became apparent that his death was imminent. He made a will naming al-Maʾmūn his executor, handed it to his son-in-law Mīkhāʾīl, and then died. He was given a finer funeral than anyone in his position had ever had, thanks to his meritorious actions and charitable efforts. He was buried in the Monastery of St. Sergius in al-Madāʾin. 65 When Jibrīl’s son Bukhtīshūʿ returned from the expedition against the Romans, he recruited monks for that monastery and ensured that all their needs were provided for. [8.3.21] Continuing with Pethion the Translator: Jūrjis and his son and the rest of their line were among the people of their time whom God had most abundantly favoured with greatness of soul, loftiness of aspiration, devoutness, kindness, beneficence and charity. They visited poor, unfortunate people when they were ill and succoured the unhappy and afflicted to an extent that beggars description, above and beyond the call of duty. [8.3.22] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – say: The length of Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ’s service as Hārūn al-Rashīd’s physician, from the time he first entered the caliph’s employ to al-Rashīd’s death, was 23 years. An account book was found in Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl’s cabinet containing records written by the secretary of the elder Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, with corrections in Jibrīl’s handwriting, showing how much he had earned during his service with Hārūn al-Rashīd. His regular salary was 10,000 silver dirhams monthly, which makes 120,000 dirhams a year, and thus in the course of his 23 years he made a total of 2,760,000 dirhams. For his accommodation, he received 5,000 dirhams monthly, making 60,000 dirhams a year. Over his 23 years, then, he received 1,380,000 dirhams. In addition, he received a special allowance of 50,000 dirhams in the month of Muḥarram each year, making a total of 1,150,000 dirhams over 23 years. He also received robes worth 50,000 dirhams every year, making a total of 1,150,000 dirhams over 23 years. The following is a detailed list of his robes: gold brocade, twenty; silk brocade, twenty; Manṣūrī silk, ten; ordinary silk, ten; Yemeni embroidery, three; embroidery from Nisibis, three; cloaks, three. The linings were of sable, fox, marten, ermine, and squirrel. In addition, he was paid 50,000 silver dirhams every year at the beginning of the Christian fast, making a total of 1,150,000 dirhams over 23 years. Furthermore, every year on Palm Sunday he received a robe of gold or silk brocade, embroidery or other material worth 10,000 dirhams, making a total of 230,000 dirhams over 23 years. He also received 50,000 silver dirhams on the ʿĪd al-Fiṭr 66 every year, making a total of 1,150,000 dirhams over 23 years, in addition to robes reportedly worth 10,000 dirhams, making a total of 230,000 dirhams. Every time he bled Hārūn al-Rashīd, as he did twice yearly, he was paid 50,000 silver dirhams, thereby earning 100,000 dirhams in the course of the year, making a total of 2,300,000 dirhams over 23 years. Similarly, he gave Hārūn al-Rashīd a dose of physic 67 twice a year, receiving 50,000 dirhams each time, thereby earning 100,000 dirhams in the course of the year, making a total of 2,300,000 dirhams over 23 years. In addition, from Hārūn al-Rashīd’s entourage he received (over and above clothing, perfumes and horses worth 100,000 dirhams) 400,000 dirhams yearly. This makes a total of 9,200,000 dirhams over 23 years. The following is a detailed list of the persons who contributed to his income: ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar, 68 50,000 dirhams; Zubaydah Umm Jaʿfar, 69 50,000 dirhams; al-ʿAbbāsah, 70 50,000 dirhams; Ibrāhīm ibn ʿUthmān, 71 30,000 dirhams; al-Faḍl ibn ibn al-Rabīʿ, 72 50,000 dirhams; Fāṭimah Umm Muḥammad, 73 70,000 dirhams; and, in addition, clothing, perfumes and horses totalling 100,000 dirhams. His revenue from estates in Gondēshāpūr, al-Sūs, 74 Basra and the Sawād 75 came to 800,000 silver dirhams net of contributions due, making a total of 18,400,000 dirhams over 23 years. His revenue from surplus contributions due was 700,000 silver dirhams per year, making a total of 16,100,000 dirhams over 23 years. From the Barmakids, he received 2,400,000 silver dirhams yearly, as follows: Yaḥyā ibn Khālid, 600,000 dirhams; Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā, the vizier, 1,200,000 dirhams; and al-Faḍl ibn Yaḥyā, 600,000 dirhams. This makes a total of 31,200,000 dirhams over 23 years. All the above figures relate to the time of Jibrīl’s employment in the service of Hārūn al-Rashīd, which was 23 years, and in the service of the Barmakids, which was 13 years. They do not include substantial gifts that are not shown in the account book; these amount to a total of 88,800,000 silver dirhams, comprising one of 85,000,000 dirhams, one of 3,400,000 dirhams, and one of 400,000 dirhams. The following is a record of expenditures from these revenues, and from the unlisted gifts, for various purposes, according to the account book: in gold, 900,000 dinars, and in silver, 90,600,000 dirhams. A detailed breakdown of the objects of those expenditures is as follows: personal items, approximately 2,200,000 dirhams yearly, making a total for the above-mentioned period of 27,600,000 dirhams; houses, gardens, parks, slaves, horses and camels, 70,000,000 dirhams; tools, wages, workshop facilities and so forth, 1,000,000 dirhams; estates that Jibrīl purchased as his exclusive property, 12,000,000 dirhams; gems and items of jewellery valued at 500,000 dinars, 50,000,000 dirhams; outlays for charity, donations, good works and alms, and the cost of his share of amounts paid to avoid confiscations during the above-mentioned years, 3,000,000 dirhams; sums written off as a result of defalcation on the part of persons entrusted with investments, 3,000,000 dirhams. After all this, when Jibrīl was at the point of death, he made a will bequeathing 7,000,000 dinars 76 to his son, Bukhtīshūʿ, and naming al-Maʾmūn as executor. The caliph scrupulously saw to it that Bukhtīshūʿ received every dirham of his legacy. [8.3.23] It is to Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ that the poet Abū Nuwās refers in the following verses: 77 I asked my friend Abū ʿĪsā (and Jibrīl is clever); I said, ‘I like wine!’ He replied, ‘A lot of it kills!’ I said to him, ‘Say how much I can have!’ He replied – and his word is decisive – ‘I have found that human natures are four; those are the basis. So four for four: one pint 78 for each humour.’ Abū l-Faraj ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Iṣbahānī quotes the following verses in his Book of Songs Only ( K. al-Mujarrad fī l-aghānī ): 79 Ah, say to him who does not belong to Islam and the religious community To Jibrīl Abū ʿĪsā, friend of scoundrels and rabble: ‘Is there anything in your medical skills, Jibrīl, that can cure those who are ill? A gazelle has captured my reason without committing a crime or an error.’ According to Abū l-Faraj, the poetry is by al-Maʾmūn, the reference is to Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, the physician, and the setting is by Mutayyam in the light ramal rhythm. [8.3.24] A number of aphorisms are attributed to Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, including the following: ‘There are four things that will destroy life: shovelling in more food before the previous food has been digested; drinking on an empty stomach; sex with an elderly woman; and luxuriating in the bath.’ Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ is the author of the following works: Epistle to al-Maʾmūn on food and drink ( R. ilā l-Maʾmūn fī l-maṭʿam wa-lmashrab ). Introduction to the art of logic ( K. al-mudkhal ilā ṣināʿat al-manṭiq ). On sexual intercourse ( K. fī l-bāh ). Shorter essay on medicine ( R. mukhtaṣarah fī l-ṭibb ). A compendium ( Kunnāsh ). On the fabrication of incense ( K. fī ṣanʿat al-bakhūr ), which was composed for ʿAbd Allāh al-Maʾmūn. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, see Sezgin, gas iii , 226; Ullmann, Medizin , 109 no. 3, W. Baum in Bautz, Biographisch-bibliographisches Kirchenlexikon 22:125–128 s.v. ‘Bochtisho, Gabriel’. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 Of the celebrated family of viziers. Jaʿfar was executed twelve years later, in 187/803. See ei 2 art. ‘Barmakids’ (K. van Bladel) and below Ch. 8.3.16 . 3 I.e. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis, the subject of the preceding biography ( Ch. 8.2 ). For Pethion, see Ch. 8.1.1 n 3 above and Ch. 9.16 . 4 A town near the modern city of Mashhad, in Iran. In 193/808, Hārūn al-Rashīd was on his way to the eastern province of Khorasan with an army in an effort to quell a rebellion that had broken out there. See ei 2 art. ‘Hārūn al-Ras̲h̲īd’ (F. Omar). 5 A province comprising much of today’s southwestern Iran. See ei 2 art. ‘Fārs’ (L. Lockhart). 6 Vizier to the Abbasid caliphs Hārūn al-Rashīd and al-Amīn; the son of al-Manṣūr’s chamberlain, al-Rabīʿ ibn Yūnus. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Faḍl b. al-Rabīʿ’ (D. Sourdel). 7 Son of Hārūn al-Rashīd and his successor (r. 193–198/809–813). See ei 2 art. ‘al-Amīn’ (F. Gabrieli). 8 The civil war between the brothers ended with al-Amīn’s defeat and death in 198/813. 9 Al-Maʾmūn’s secretary, and later his governor in Iraq. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥasan b. Sahl’ (D. Sourdel). 10 Abū ʿĪsā Aḥmad ibn Hārūn, who was something of a rake; see, e.g. al-Iṣfahānī, Aghānī , x:187–193, al-Ṣūlī, Awrāq , 3:88–94. 11 Abū Isḥāq Muḥammad ibn Hārūn, who succeeded his brother as the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim. 12 The biography of Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh will be found at Ch. 8.26 . 13 See the Glossary of Weights and Measures. 14 This anecdote is also found in Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 145–146. 15 Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm al-Ḥāsib ibn al-Dāyah (d. 265/878), courtier and assistant to Ibrāhīm ibn al-Maḥdī and author of Akhbār al-atibbāʾ (‘The Accounts of Physicians’), a source frequently quoted by iau but preserved today only in quotations by other authors. He was the father of the well-known Ṭūlūnid historian, Abū Jaʿfar Aḥmad ibn Yūsuf (d. between 330/941 and 340/951), who was more widely known as Ibn al-Dāyah, and the author of K. al-mukāfaʾah wa-ḥusn al-ʿuqbā (‘The Book of Requital and Fortunate Outcome’), a biography of Ibn Ṭūlūn ( Ṣīrat Aḥmad ibn Ṭulūn ), apparently used by iau in Ch. 14, and credited with a translation of the Centiloquium , attributed to Ptolemy. See Faracovi, ‘Return to Ptolemy’. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Dāya’ (F. Rosenthal); Sezgin, gas iii , 231; Ullmann, Medizin , 228; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xxix:68–69. 16 Sometimes called Syrian Bindweed, a perennial herb ( Convolvulus scammonia ) with many medicinal uses, particularly as a powerful purgative. See Lev & Amar, Materia Medica , 280–282. 17 A dependent, sometimes a manumitted slave. The anecdote occurs in al-Masʿūdī, Murūj , vi:305–308. In Ch. 12.6 below, Sulaymān is referred to as Abū Sulaym; he was civil governor of the Cilician frontier ( al-thughūr ) with al-Rashīd and al-Amīn, see Crone, Slaves on Horses , 190 n. 22. 18 A town on the Euphrates, southwest of the modern Najaf, in Iraq. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥīra’ (A.F.L. Beeston & I. Shahîd). 19 The governor of al-Ḥīrah. See al-Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh (Bosworth), 216 n. 733. The name al-ʿIbādī indicates that he was a member of a Christian sect calling itself al-ʿIbād, whose adherents were concentrated about the town of al-Ḥīrah. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq was one of them: he came from al-Ḥīrah, and he was called al-ʿIbādī. See his biography later in this chapter (8.29) . 20 A town between Kufa and al-Qādisiyyah, on the pilgrim route; celebrated for its fruit trees and vineyards, and a popular resort; see Yāqūt, Muʿjām al-buldān (Beirut 1995), vi:79. 21 A mid-to-late 9th cent. physician whose biography is given at Ch. 10.57 . He was author of the Adab al-ṭabīb ( Practical Ethics of the Physician ). For this particular passage, see Ruhāwī, Adab al-Ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 149 and (facs.) 164. There is a translation by M. Levey; see Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Levey). See also Sezgin, gas iii , 263–264, Ullmann, Medizin , 223. The biography of al-Ruhāwī is given at Ch. 10.57 . 22 The biography of ʿIsā ibn Māssah is in Ch. 8.28 ; for bibliographic references to him, see Sezgin, gas iii , 257; Ullmann, Medizin , 122. 23 For bibliographic references to Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, see Sezgin, gas iii , 231; Ullmann, Medizin , 112. His biography will be found later in Ch. 8.26 . 24 The Abbasid extended family and their entourage. 25 A free non-Muslim living in an Islamic country, subject to a capitation tax ( jizyah ) but in return entitled to the protection of the Muslims in respect of life and property. 26 This anecdote is also found in al-Bayhaqī, al-Maḥāsin wa-l-masāwiʾ , ed. Schwally (Giessen, 1902) 196–197. 27 Ibn Barmak, the vizier. See n. 2 above. 28 Literally, ‘calculator’ ( al-ḥāsib ), i.e. of astronomical observations; see Dozy, Supplément , s.v. 29 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 above. 30 Ghaḍīḍ, a favourite concubine of Hārūn al-Rashīd and mother of several of his children. See the biography of ʿĪsā ibn Ḥakam al-Dimashqī ( Ch. 7.8 ) for an account of a later occasion when she again consults both physicians and astrologers but dies of her ailment despite her supporting teams of professionals. 31 An uncle of the caliph al-Manṣūr. But there was also a physician named ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī; iau gives him a brief biography later in this chapter (8.34) . 32 Meaning ‘hoarse’. 33 Both of these appear in the account in Ch. 7.8 . 34 In the name Dāwūd ibn Sarāfīyūn, the father’s name is an Arabic spelling of Serapion. See Ch. 8.2 , where the name is spelled Dāwūd ibn Sarābīyūn, and Ch. 6.5, where he is one of the caliph al-Hādī’s physicians. 35 A town in the Khūzistān region of what is today Iran. 36 Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī (d. 224/839), mainly known as a musician, was the son of the caliph al-Mahdī and brother of Hārūn al-Rashīd. He was proclaimed caliph by the people of Baghdād when al-Maʾmūn nominated ʿAlī al-Riḍā as successor, but his counter-caliphate lasted less that two years (202–203/817–819). Ibrāhīm was the patron of Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm al-Ḥāsib ibn al-Dāyah, the transmitter of this anecdote and one of the most important sources of iau in this chapter; for Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm ibn al-Dāyah, see above Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 37 Warishkīn (or warshkīn ) is defined by Dozy ( Supplément , ii:804) as erysipelas, an acute dermatoloical infection producing a painful rash; he goes on to say that it is equivalent to rashkīn , which he elsewhere (i:578) defines as ‘St Anthony’s fire’. However, St Anthony’s fire is not a dematological infection, but food poisoning due to rye ergot, the fungus Claviceps purpurea . Warishkīn is a very rare term. In Abū Bakr al-Rāzī’s treatise on smallpox and measles the term al-yarishkīn occurs, which William Greenhill interprets as a corruption of warishkīn and translates as ‘boils’; see al-Rāzī, K. fī l-Jadarī wa-l-ḥaṣbah (Greenhill), 125 and 151 Note J; in his note on this word, Greenhill refers to this very passage in iau , quoting the Latin translation of it by John Freind (Freind, History of Physic , 11), and suggests that it must be ‘some much more formidable disease than a mere boil’ . There appears to have been an understandable confusion between severe skin eruptions that appear particularly on the chest, hence the following comparison between an acute erysipelas and measles when the physician is trying to determine if a cure has been successful or not. 38 Cf. Persian shikan , ‘roughness, severity, breaking, shrinking’ (Steingass, Persian-English Dictionary , 755). 39 That is, it causes eruptions on the chest. 40 Ḥaṣbah . For the confusion between the symptoms and treatment for erysipelas, smallpox, anthrax and measles, see Richter, ‘Beiträge zur Geschichte der Pocken’. 41 A ‘secretary’ ( kātib ). See, e.g., al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xxvi:624–625. 42 Unidentified. 43 A city in north central Syria located on the north bank of the Euphrates, about 160 kilometres east of Aleppo. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Raḳḳa’ (M. Meinecke). 44 Arabic durrāj , see Lane, Lexicon , s.v. The francolin is related to the jungle fowl of S.E. Asia and long-billed partridge of E. Asia. Some species are native to Asia, others to Africa. 45 Serious disturbances occurred in Baghdad, Syria and elsewhere in the context of the civil war in the second decade of the 9th cent. between the caliph al-Amīn and his brother, the future al-Maʾmūn. The ʿAlids mentioned here are rebels fighting against al-Maʾmūn. It seems that the first episode took place during the last years of al-Amīn’s caliphate, but the one mentioned below occurred after his death. In the next paragraph ‘Then, when the Whites …’ refers to the time of al-Maʾmūn’s caliphate. There is much confusion about the use of colours, but in this case it seems clear that it refers to the revolt of the ʿAlid rebel Abū l-Sarāyā (see note below). Baghdad suffered serious civil unrest in the last years of al-Amīn’s caliphate and especially after he was killed, to the extent that in the year 201/817 there were three famous ‘vigilantes’ leading popular movements to fight the evildoers. See Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh , iii:1008–1012; al-Ṭabarī, Tarʾīkh Reunification (Bosworth), 55–61. 46 This most likely refers to Abū l-Sarāyā’s revolt in Kufa (also mentioned below in 8.18.3 ). Abū l-Sarāyā was a Shiʿite rebel who revolted against the Abbasids in 199/815, i.e., more than one year after al-Amīn’s death. He seized Kufa and the surrounding areas, including Basra and al-Ahwāz; see ei 2 art. ‘Abū ʾl-Sarāya’ (H.A.R. Gibb). White was the traditional colour of the ʿAlids, but in this period it generally expressed opposition to the Abbasids, be it from pro-ʿAlid, pro-Umayyad partisans, or even from adherents of Iranian sects; see Omar, ‘The Significance of the Colours of Banners’. The brother of Abū l-Sarāyā, who also rose in rebellion after his death, adopted white ( tabyīḍ ) according to al-Ṭabarī; see Taʾrīkh , ed. Leiden, iii:1018; al-Ṭabarī, Tarʾīkh Reunification (Bosworth), 69. 47 One of the sons of Hārūn al-Rashīd and a brother of the caliph at the time, al-Maʾmūn. 48 Abū l-Rāzī Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd al-Ḥamīd. See, e.g., al-Yaʿqūbī, Tārīkh , ii:454; al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh , ed. Leiden, iii:1099. 49 Teak was extensively used in Baghdad for house construction, among other things. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Sād̲j̲’ (A. Dietrich). 50 Sakanjabīn . Essentially, nothing but a mixture of honey and vinegar. See Levey, Medical Formulary , no. 149; Marin & Waines, ‘Ibn Sīnā on Sakanjabīn ’. 51 A town on the Euphrates, west of Baghdad, near the modern al-Ṣaqlāwīyyah. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Anbār’ (M. Streck & A.A. Duri). 52 5 Muḥarram 187/3 January 803. 53 Metre: sarīʿ . See al-Yaʿqūbī, Tārīkh , ii:422–423; al-Shābushtī, Diyārāt , 238 (lines 1 and 2); al-Tawḥīdī, Baṣāʾir , viii:53 (line 1, followed by different lines); Yāqūt, Muʿjam al-buldān , ii:542 (and i:535, line 4a only); Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt , i:339; Ibn Durayd, Jamharah , 383; Abū ʿUbayd al-Bakrī, Muʿjam mā istaʿjam (ed. al-Saqqā), 297 (line 4) s.v. Bīn. In some versions the verses are said to have been found inscribed on a tomb, or a church, or the castle called al-Sadīr, all in al-Ḥīrah. 54 The pre-Islamic Lakhmid dynasty of al-Ḥīrah. 55 A puzzling line, not found thus in the other sources. The singular juththatuhum jars with its own plural suffix. A has ilāLibnin , explaining in the margin that ‘Libn is a place in China’, where China ( al-Ṣīn ) is apparently an error for Yemen ( al-Yaman ); see Yāqūt, Muʿjam al-buldān , v:12. S seems to read ilā Lubnā , Lubnā apparently being an arbitrary girl’s name. Al-Yaʿqūbī has ka-annamā jannathumū laʿnatun sāra ilā Bīnin bihā rākibū , ‘It is as if a curse has covered them, with which a rider has gone to Bīn’; Ibn Durayd and al-Bakrī have ka-annamā ḥaththathumū laʿnatun dāra bihā ilā Bīna bihā rākibū , ‘It is as if a curse has sped them on. with which a rider has turned to Bīn’ (said to be a place near al-Ḥīrah, but one suspects that this line is the only reason for this identification). Yāqūt (ii:542) has ka-annahum kānū bihā luʿbatan ǀ sāra ilā ayna bihā l-rākibū , but elsewhere (i:535) sāra ilā Bīnin bihā rākibū . The bewildering range of variants makes it impossible to reconstruct a plausible original. 56 Hārūn’s executioner, known from many sources, including Alf laylah wa-laylah . In the index (by Pellat) of al-Masʿūdī, Murūj , and in the index of al-Jahshiyārī, al-Wuzarāʾ wal-kuttāb , ed. al-Saqqā et al., he appears as Masrūr al-khādim ( al-kabīr ) Abū Hāshim. Cf. al-Ṭabari, Taʾrīkh (Bosworth) 216–217. 57 One of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s leading commanders. See ei 2 art. ‘Hart̲h̲ama b. Aʿyan’ (Ch. Pellat). 58 See above Ch. 8.3.11 n 36 . 59 Commander of the caliph’s guard under al-Mahdī and subsequently Hārūn al-Rashīd. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Māhān’ (D. Sourdel). 60 Al-Amīn and al-Maʾmūn, both sons of Hārūn al-Rashīd, fought a civil war over the succession, al-Maʾmūn being ultimately successful. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Amīn’ (F. Gabrieli). 61 Called Ḥammād ibn Sālim Abū ʿIṣmah in al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh , iii:978. Marginal note in ms A: ‘Variant reading: al-Shabīʿī’. This is an unlikely nisbah , not found elsewhere. Probably al-Subayʿī, a fairly frequent tribal nisbah , is intended. Al-Shīʿī would also be strange here. ms S has al-Shaʿbī. 62 Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. See above Ch. 8.3.11 n 36 . 63 A brother of the caliph al-Manṣūr and his governor in Syria. See ei 2 art. ‘al-ʿAbbās b. Muḥammad’ (K.V. Zetterstéen). 64 Metre: kāmil . The poet is Rabīʿah al-Raqqī, as iau states; see Ibn al-Muʿtazz, Ṭabaqāt , 157, and al-Iṣfahānī, Aghānī , xvi:259. The lines are attributed to Abū l-ʿAtāhiyah in al-ʿAskarī, Dīwān al-maʿānī , i:105 (see Abū l-ʿAtāhiyah, Dīwān , 613). 65 The ancient Ctesiphon, capital of the Parthian and Sassanid empires. It was located on the Tigris, some 32km southeast of modern Baghdad. 66 Festival marking the end of the Ramadan fast. 67 Here the term dawāʾ is used to indicate an unspecified medication. 68 A cousin of the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd, governor of al-Baṣrah under al-Rashīd. 69 Wife of Hārūn al-Rashīd and mother of Muḥammad, the later caliph al-Amīn. 70 Al-ʿAbbāsah bint al-Mahdī ibn Abī Jaʿfar al-Manṣūr, sister of Hārūn al-Rashīd. Her name is connected with the fall of the Barmakids through her marriage with Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā al-Barmakī. According to al-Ṭabarī, Hārūn could not bear to do without the society of either his sister or J̱aʿfar, so that, in order to have them both with him at the same time, he had them contract a marriage of convenience. The couple themselves, however, were soon dissatisfied with this arrangement, and when Hārūn discovered what was really going on, he had Jaʿfar executed (see Ch. 8.3.16 above). Serious historians, beginning with Ibn Khaldūn, give little credence to this account. Al-ʿAbbāsah makes an appearance in Ch. 12, where we are informed of her subsequent marriage to a cousin of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s, Ibrāhīm ibn Ṣāliḥ. See ei 2 art. ‘ʿAbbāsa’ (J. Horovitz). 71 Ibrāhīm ibn ʿUthmān ibn Nahīk, commander of the shurṭah . He is mentioned several times in connection with Hārūn al-Rashīd, in al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh ; al-Aghānī , and other sources. 72 Vizier to the Abbasid caliphs Hārūn al-Rashīd and al-Amīn. He was the son of al-Manṣūr’s chamberlain, al-Rabīʿ ibn Yūnus. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Faḍl b. al-Rabīʿ’ (D. Sourdel). 73 Daughter of one of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s favourite concubines, Ghaḍīḍ. She figures in an anecdote in the biography of ‘Īsā ibn Ḥakam al-Dimashqī ( Ch. 7.8 ). 74 The ancient Susa in the southwestern Persian province of Khūzistān, the modern Iranian Shūsh. 75 The fertile alluvial plains of southern Iraq. 76 Or 9,000,000; ‘nine’ is written on the line, but ‘seven’ is written in above it. 77 Metre: wāfir . See Abū Nuwās, Dīwān , iii:356; Ibn Buṭlān, Daʿwat al-aṭibbāʾ , 30. 78 A riṭl or raṭl (derived from Greek litra ) is a measure of weight (more often than volume) with varying values; translating it as ‘pint’ is probably more realistic than the etymologically more apt ‘litre’. See Glossary of Weights & Measures. 79 Metre: hazaj . See Ibn Faḍl Allāh, Masālik , ix:191. Not found in either al-Iṣfahānī’s al-Aghānī or Ibn Wāṣil’s Tajrīd al-aghānī . The source mentioned by iau , al-Mujarrad fī l-aghānī , is in fact by Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā al-Makkī (d. 248/862), one of al-Iṣfahānī’s sources; it is not extant. 8.4. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl 1 [8.4.1] Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl was an honourable man, an individual of excellent character, and he enjoyed a highly successful career as well, achieving greater eminence and prestige and acquiring greater wealth than any other physician of his time; his wardrobe and carpets were as fine as any that the caliph al-Mutawakkil 2 had to show. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq 3 translated many of the works of Galen into Syriac and Arabic for him. [8.4.2] Pethion the Translator is the source of the following account. During the caliphate of al-Wāthiq, 4 Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd al-Malik al-Zayyāt 5 and Ibn Abī Duʾād 6 hated Bukhtīshūʿ, for his virtuous character, piety, honour, generosity and general decency made them envious. Accordingly, they took advantage of every opportunity to besmirch his reputation in al-Wāthiq’s eyes whenever they were alone with the caliph, with the result that in the year 230/844–845, al-Wāthiq turned against him, confiscated his property and much of his wealth, and had him exiled to Gondēshāpūr. But then the caliph fell gravely ill with dropsy; he dispatched an emissary to bring Bukhtīshūʿ back to Baghdad, but died before the physician arrived. During the caliphate of al-Mutawakkil, 7 however, Bukhtīshūʿ’s fortunes improved: he became a man of enormous importance, prestige, reputation, prowess and wealth, His apparel, perfumes, carpets, estates, opulent lifestyle and conspicuous expenditure beggared description, with the result that the caliph became envious and had him arrested. [8.4.3] The following account is taken from another chronicle. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl stood high in favour with al-Mutawakkil, but he made the mistake of treating the caliph with excessive familiarity, and as a result al-Mutawakkil turned against him, confiscating his property and sending him to the City of Peace. 8 Subsequently, however, the caliph was afflicted with an attack of colic, whereupon he sent for Bukhtīshūʿ and begged his pardon. The physician treated him, and he recovered. The grateful caliph responded by restoring him to grace, returning the possessions that he had previously confiscated. In due course, however, Bukhtīshūʿ fell victim to the machinations of others and again suffered disgrace, the confiscation of all his property and exile, this time to Basra. This came about as follows. ʿAbd Allāh 9 had advised al-Muntaṣir 10 to appoint Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Khaṣībī 11 as his personal secretary. Abū l-ʿAbbās al-Khaṣībī was an unscrupulous man, and they conspired to have al-Mutawakkil assassinated and al-Muntaṣir installed as caliph in his place. ‘What made you advise al-Muntaṣir to appoint al-Khaṣībī as his secretary?’ said Bukhtīshūʿ to the vizier, ‘you know what an unscrupulous rogue he is.’ This led ʿAbd Allāh to imagine that the physician had got wind of the conspiracy. The vizier reported what Bukhtīshūʿ had said to him: ‘You know how close the caliph and Bukhtīshūʿ are,’ he said to the others; ‘in my view, we shall have to abandon our plan. Is there anything we can do?’ They finally decided that once the caliph was well into his cups, al-Muntaṣir should tear his clothes and bespatter them with blood, and then go to see his father. ‘When he asks you what on earth has happened,’ his fellow conspirators said to him, ‘you must say that Bukhtīshūʿ fomented a dispute between you and your brother, in the course of which you nearly killed one another. “O Commander of the Faithful,” you will say, “that physician ought to be removed from our midst.” He will tell you to do what you think best, and we shall exile Bukhtīshūʿ. By the time the caliph thinks to ask for him, we shall have accomplished our design.’ This was done, and brought about Bukhtīshūʿ’s downfall and the assassination of al-Mutawakkil. However, when al-Mustaʿīn became caliph, 12 he restored Bukhtīshūʿ to his old position and treated him most favourably. [8.4.4] Subsequently, when Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn al-Wāthiq became caliph taking the name al-Muhtadī, 13 he followed the example of al-Mutawakkil in favouring physicians and granting them advancement and privilege, and Bukhtīshūʿ enjoyed particular prestige under al-Muhtadī bi-Allāh. He told the caliph about the exactions to which he had been subjected during the reign of al-Mutawakkil, and al-Muhtadī ordered that the physician should be given access to the vaults, and that everything which he recognized as belonging to him should be restored to him, with no verification and nothing deducted. Consequently, he recovered everything that he had lost; the caliph allowed him to take it all, and granted him full protection. One day, Bukhtīshūʿ received a letter from an associate in the City of Peace, stating that he had had difficulty with Sulaymān ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir 14 in the matter of his residential properties. Bukhtīshūʿ showed the letter to al-Muhtadī after the evening prayer, whereupon the caliph sent immediately for Sulaymān ibn Wahb 15 and ordered him to send an official letter, in the caliph’s name, to Sulaymān ibn ʿAbd Allāh, reprimanding him for his behaviour toward Bukhtīshūʿ’s agent and ordering him to leave the physician’s residential properties and other assets unmolested. The vizier had the letter dispatched to Baghdad at once by the hand of the trustiest of the caliph’s couriers. Bukhtīshūʿ was among the last of the company to leave the palace one evening. As he was taking his leave, he said to al-Muhtadī, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I have not had my blood let or swallowed any medicine for forty years, and now the astrologers have determined that I am to die in the course of this year. I am not dismayed at the prospect of death, but I am sorrowful at having to be parted from you.’ The caliph spoke to him consolingly, saying that astrologers were seldom right. In the event, however, he did die: after he had left that evening, the caliph never saw him again. [8.4.5] Ibrāhīm ibn ʿAlī al-Ḥuṣrī 16 informs us, in his work entitled The Light of the Eye and Blossom of Wit , 17 that Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī 18 and Bukhtīshūʿ the physician once quarrelled before Aḥmad ibn Abī Duʾād 19 at a magistrate’s hearing in a matter of some land in the Sawād . Ibrāhīm had made a usurious loan to Bukhtīshūʿ, and was shouting at him, using offensive language. This made Aḥmad ibn Abī Du’ād angry. ‘Ibrāhīm,’ he said, ‘when you argue with a person at a hearing in our presence, it is fitting for you to seek a straight, well-trodden road; you should be calm and your words moderate. You must allow the caliph’s sessions their due measure of mediation, gravitas, competence, and search for truth, for that is more fitting for you, and more becoming a man of your lineage and importance. Do not be hasty, for haste is often followed by regret. May God protect you from error and from foolish words and actions; may He grant you His grace in full, as He did to your fathers before you, for surely your Lord is all-knowing and all-wise.’ Ibrāhīm replied, ‘You have bidden me, may God compensate you, behave in a fitting manner and urged me upon the path of right guidance. I shall henceforth refrain from saying or doing anything that would cause you to think the less of me, diminish my worth in your eyes, or fall short in my duty of offering apologies. I therefore do beg your forgiveness for this lapse, as one admitting his fault and acknowledging his offence. Anger lashes me on to do its will, but a man such as yourself teaches me forbearance. That is God’s way with you, and with us by your example. He is sufficient for us, an excellent guardian. I hereby renounce my share in this piece of land and cede it to Bukhtīshūʿ. May this be adequate compensation for the wrong I have done him, for expenditure that serves to teach a lesson is not wasted. God grants success.’ [8.4.6] Abū Muḥammad Badr ibn Abī l-Iṣbaʿ, the secretary, relates the following anecdote, which he says was told to him by his grandfather: I called on Bukhtīshūʿ (the old man said) on a very hot day. I found him seated in a sitting-room cooled by several punkahs, with two windows for ventilation and a blacked-out window between them. In the centre was a pavilion with an embroidered cover the material of which was impregnated with rose water, camphor and sandalwood oil. Bukhtīshūʿ, to my astonishment, was wearing a heavy robe of saʿīdī Yemeni material and wrapped up in a shawl. When I joined him in the pavilion, however, I found the air icy cold. He laughed, and ordered his servants to bring a robe and shawl for me. ‘Boy,’ he said to one of them, ‘uncover the sides of the pavilion,’ and there were a number of open doors, and beyond them, banks of snow, with servants fanning it. That was the source of the cold that I had felt. Bukhtīshūʿ then called for supper, and a most elegant table was brought in, with dainties of every kind upon it. Then came roast chickens, done to a turn; the cook entered and gave each of them a shake, whereupon it fell to pieces. Seeing how impressed I was with their colour and the tenderness of the meat, he explained that the chickens were fed nothing but almonds and cottonseed, and were given pomegranate juice to drink. I called on him again one bitterly cold day in the dead of winter. I found him wearing a padded robe and gown, sitting in a sort of pergola inside his house, in the midst of a most beautiful garden. The pergola was covered with a fine display of sable fur, surmounted by a cover of dyed silk, felt from the western lands, and Yemeni leather mats. Before Bukhtīshūʿ stood a gilded brazier, made of silver and pierced with holes, in which a servant dressed in a resplendent tunic of gold and silver brocade was keeping a fire of aloes-wood burning. I joined him in the pergola, and found that it was very warm inside. Bukhtīshūʿ laughed and ordered the servants to bring me a tunic of gold and silver brocade as well. He then told them to uncover the sides of the pergola, and I beheld adjoining compartments with wooden lattices over iron ones, and in them braziers in which fires of tamarisk 20 charcoal were burning, with servants pumping bellows like so many blacksmiths. Bukhtīshūʿ then ordered supper, which proved to be excellent and impeccable as usual. Some very pale chickens were served. I did not like the look of them, for I feared that they were underdone, but the cook came in and shook them, and they fell to pieces. I asked him about them, and he said that the chickens were fed on shelled almonds and given milk to drink. Bukhtīshūʿ used to give presents of incense in one receptacle together with another receptacle containing charcoal obtained from lemon and willow wood and grapevines and sprinkled, when being set alight, with rose water mixed with musk, camphor, Egyptian willow water and aged wine. ‘I do not like to give incense without charcoal,’ he would say, ‘for common charcoal ruins it.’ People would say, ‘This is the work of Bukhtīshūʿ!’ [8.4.7] The following account is related by Abū Muḥammad Badr ibn Abī l-Iṣbaʿ, who had had it from his father, who had had it from Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn al-Jarrāḥ, 21 who in turn had had it from his father. One day al-Mutawakkil said to Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘Invite me to dinner.’ ‘Your wish is my command, Sire,’ said the physician. ‘I want it to be for tomorrow,’ said the caliph. ‘It will be my pleasure, Sire,’ Bukhtīshūʿ replied. It was summer, and the weather was very hot. ‘Everything seems to be in order,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ to his friends and associates, ‘except that we don’t have enough canvas for punkahs.’ Accordingly, he sent out emissaries to buy all the canvas they could find in Samarra. They brought back the canvas, and they also brought with them all the upholsterers 22 and craftsmen they could find. They cut enough canvas to make punkahs for the entire house – courtyards, chambers, salons, apartments and latrines – so that wherever the caliph might go, he would find a punkah. Then Bukhtīshūʿ thought of the smell of new canvas, which disappears only after the fabric has been in use for a time. He ordered his servants to buy as many melons as they could find in the town, and then he had most of his staff and slave-boys sit and rub the canvas with the melons all night long, with the result that in the morning the smell had vanished. He then had his servants hang the punkahs in all the places mentioned above. The next step was to instruct his cooks to prepare five thousand baskets, each containing a slab of semolina bread or a quantity of flat loaves to a weight of 20 raṭl , 23 a roast lamb, a cold suckling kid, a fāʾiqah , 24 two broad-breasted chickens, two young poults, two kinds of meat cooked in vinegar, three kinds of cooked dishes, and a bowl full of sweets. When al-Mutawakkil arrived and saw how many punkahs there were and how fine they were, ‘How have you managed to get rid of the smell?’ he asked, whereupon Bukhtīshūʿ told him the story of the melons, which astonished him. The caliph, his cousins and al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān 25 ate at one table, while the princes and chamberlains were seated at two gigantic leather mats, the like of which had never been seen in the possession of any of Bukhtīshūʿ’s peers. The baskets were distributed to the domestics, servants, intendants, equerries, valets, salt-boys and other staff, every man his basket. ‘In this way,’ Bukhtīshūʿ said, ‘I have escaped opprobrium; for had I seated them at tables, one might have been content and another dissatisfied, one might have said he had eaten enough, while another might have said he had not had sufficient. By giving each one his own basket, I have ensured that there was enough for all.’ The caliph looked at the banquet and pronounced it most splendid. Al-Mutawakkil then said that he wished to take a nap, and asked Bukhtīshūʿ to put him in a well-lighted room that was free of flies, thinking thereby to cause him embarrassment. But Bukhtīshūʿ had had urns of treacle placed on the roofs of the house, so that the flies would gather there, and there was not a single fly in the lower apartments. Bukhtīshūʿ ushered the caliph into a large square chamber the entire ceiling of which consisted of glazed skylights, so that the room was full of light. It was fitted with punkahs, and under the punkahs could be glimpsed fine fabric impregnated with rose water, sandalwood oil and camphor. When al-Mutawakkil lay down for his nap, he began to smell extraordinarily sweet odours that he was unable to identify, for he had not seen any perfumes, fruits or flowers in the chamber, nor any niches or alcoves behind the punkahs where anything of that sort might have been put. The caliph was so puzzled that he told al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān to follow up the fragrance and find out where it came from. He went out and walked around the chamber, and found outside it, in every possible nook and cranny, small, narrow window-like apertures stuffed full of aromatic plants, fruits, perfumes and scents, with mandrake 26 in them, and melons with the flesh scooped out and replaced by mint and Yemeni basil sprinkled with rose water, essence of saffron, camphor, aged wine and turmeric. Al-Fatḥ saw servants who had been stationed at these apertures, and by each servant was a brazier containing incense, which was burning and giving off its aromatic smoke. The inner side of the chamber was painted with a coat of white lead pierced with tiny, imperceptible holes, and it was through these that the delightful odours and perfumes were wafted in. When al-Fatḥ returned and told al-Mutawakkil what he had seen, the caliph was greatly astonished, and was consumed with envy of Bukhtīshūʿ because of his generosity and the impeccable hospitality he had provided. He left the house without spending the remainder of the day there, pretexting a languor, and thereafter felt a brooding hatred toward the physician. A few days later, Bukhtīshūʿ was out of favour: the caliph dismissed him and confiscated an incalculable quantity of wealth from him. His wardrobe was found to include 4,000 pairs of pantaloons made of fine sīnīzī 27 linen, each of them with a waistband of Armenian silk. Al-Ḥasan ibn Makhlad 28 sealed the storeroom, after selecting whatever items he deemed suitable and taking them to al-Mutawakkil; he also sold great quantities. After all this, a good deal of wood, charcoal, date-wine and spices still remained, and al-Ḥasan ibn Makhlad bought these for 6,000 dinars. According to one account, he sold the lot for 8,000 dinars, but then Ḥamdūn 29 became resentful, and he was denounced to al-Mutawakkil. He had spent 6,000 dinars for the things that remained in his possession, and those he was allowed to keep; he subsequently sold them for more than double that price. This happened in the year 244/858–859. [8.4.8] Pethion the Translator informs us that during the reign of al-Mutawakkil, al-Muʿtazz bi-Allāh 30 fell ill with a fever, but would not eat any food or take any medicine, much to the caliph’s distress and anxiety. Bukhtīshūʿ called on the prince while the physicians were attending him, and saw for himself the patient’s refusal to take anything. Bukhtīshūʿ spoke with him, and they joked with each other. Al-Muʿtazz put his hand into the sleeve of a heavy Yemeni embroidered robe that Bukhtīshūʿ was wearing, and said, ‘What a splendid thing this is!’ ‘Your Highness is quite right,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘there is nothing like it, and it cost me a thousand dinars. Now, eat two apples for me, and this robe is yours.’ At that, al-Muʿtazz called for apples and ate two of them. Bukhtīshūʿ then said to him, ‘You know, Your Highness, a robe like this should have a shirt to go with it. I happen to have one that would go with it perfectly. If you will just drink a cup of oxymel for me, you shall have that shirt,’ whereupon al-Muʿtazz swallowed a draught of oxymel. This treatment was consistent with his impetuous nature, and he recovered; he took the robe and shirt, and the illness left him. Al-Mutawakkil was grateful to Bukhtīshūʿ ever afterward for what he had done for al-Muʿtazz. [8.4.9] The following account is related by Thābit ibn Sinān ibn Thābit. 31 Once, in very hot weather, al-Mutawakkil said that he would like to have some mustard with his meal, but his physicians told him not to, because of his irascible temperament and hot liver, and the harmful effect of mustard. ‘I shall give you some,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘and you may hold me responsible for any harm it does you.’ ‘Pray proceed,’ said the caliph. Bukhtīshūʿ instructed the servants to bring him a squash, which he coated with clay and placed in an oven, and then extracted the liquid from it. He then had the mustard hulled and mixed with the liquid from the squash. ‘Mustard,’ he explained, ‘belongs to the fourth degree of heat, and squash belongs to the fourth degree of moisture, and consequently the one offsets the other. You may eat your fill.’ The caliph spent a comfortable night, and when he still felt well the following morning, he ordered that Bukhtīshūʿ should be given a purse of 300,000 dirhams and thirty chests of clothing of various kinds. [8.4.10] The following account is related by Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 32 who quotes ʿĪsā ibn Māssah as follows: 33 I saw Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl one time when he had fallen ill, and the Commander of the Faithful, al-Mutawakkil, had ordered his son al-Muʿtazz, who had just been designated heir apparent, 34 to visit him. Al-Muʿtazz did so, accompanied by Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir 35 and Waṣīf the Turk. 36 Ibrāhīm ibn Muḥammad, known as Ibn al-Mudabbir, 37 told me that al-Mutawakkil had instructed the vizier orally as follows: ‘Write that the estates of Bukhtīshūʿ are my estates and my property. He is to me as my breath is to my body’. According to ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, this shows how highly al-Mutawakkil regarded Bukhtīshūʿ and how happy he felt in his presence. 38 Further evidence of this is to be found in an account that I heard from one of my masters. He said that Bukhtīshūʿ had paid a visit to al-Mutawakkil one day. The caliph was sitting on a divan in the middle of his private apartment, and Bukhtīshūʿ sat down beside him, as he usually did. Bukhtīshūʿ was wearing an outer robe of Roman silk brocade, which was split a little up the front. As the caliph talked with him, he took to playing with the split, which he followed up as far as the edge of the waistband of Bukhtīshūʿ’s pantaloons. They had reached a point in their conversation where al-Mutawakkil had occasion to ask Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘How can you tell when a confused person is in need of firm treatment and stability?’ ‘When he has followed the split in his physician’s robe up as far as the waistband of his pantaloons,’ answered Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘ then we adopt firm treatment.’ The caliph fell over and lay on his back laughing, and awarded Bukhtīshūʿ splendid robes of honour and a substantial purse on the spot. [8.4.11] Abū l-Rayḥān al-Bīrūnī 39 relates in his work Collected Information on Precious Stones 40 that al-Mutawakkil was once sitting to receive presents on the day of nayrūz , 41 with rare and costly objects of every kind being brought to him, when his physician, Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl, entered. He and the caliph were on friendly terms, and al-Mutawakkil said to him, ‘And what have you brought me today, eh?’ ‘My gift is nothing but a mere beggarly trinket, of no value whatever,’ Bukhtīshūʿ replied, ‘but such as it is, here it is,’ and from his sleeve he drew out an étui of ebony inlaid with gold. He opened it, revealing that it was lined with green silk, and there in the silk lay a great spoon on which jewels glittered like flames. He laid it before al-Mutawakkil. ‘I have never seen anything like this,’ said the caliph, ‘where did you get it from?’ ‘From some very good people,’ answered Bukhtīshūʿ, and then he added, ‘My father received 300,000 dinars three times over from Umm Jaʿfar Zubaydah 42 for treating her for three conditions. The first was an obstruction in her throat from which she was in danger of suffocation. He advised bleeding, cold compresses, and a broth which he described in detail. The broth was prepared in accordance with his directions, and was brought in in a great porcelain bowl, marvellous to behold, with that spoon in it. My father made a sign to me that I should pick it up, and I did so, wrapping it in my cloak, but the servant grabbed at it and tried to pull it away from me. Zubaydah said to him, “Gently; just tell him to put it back.” My father offered her ten thousand dinars for it, but she refused. “Your Highness,” he said, “my son has never stolen in his life. I beg you, do not think ill of him for his first attempt, for you will break his heart.” She laughed at that, and gave him the spoon.’ Bukhtīshūʿ was then asked about the other two occasions. He explained that Zubaydah had consulted his father about a deterioration in the smell of the breath, which one of her immediate circle had informed her she had. Death, she had said, would be preferable. He ordered her to fast until the afternoon, and then he force-fed her pickled fish and gave her the dregs of poor-quality date-wine to drink, which nauseated her and caused her to vomit. He repeated this treatment for three days, and then he said to her, ‘Go and breathe in the face of the person who told you you had bad breath, and ask her whether it has now vanished.’ The third occasion was when Zubaydah was near death from a severe case of hiccups; her hiccupping could be heard from outside the chamber where she lay. Bukhtīshūʿ’s father had ordered the servants to carry some large jars up to the roof overlooking the courtyard, line them up on the edge all the way around, and fill them with water, with a servant behind each jar. When he clapped his hands, they pushed the jars over the edge, making such a crash that Zubaydah started up in alarm – and found that her hiccups had vanished. [8.4.12] The following account is related by Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī, 43 who was told it by his father. ‘I called on Bukhtīshūʿ one summer day,’ he had said. ‘Just as I sat down, he glanced up at his servant and said, “Bring it to me now.” The servant brought him a cup with approximately half a raṭl of aged wine in it and something black spiked on a gold toothpick. He chewed it, washed it down with the wine, and then sat for a time, his face a fiery colour. He then called for trays containing superb mountain plums. Bukhtīshūʿ began to cut them open and eat them, until he had finished them and quenched his thirst. By then his face had reverted to its normal appearance. “Tell me what that was about,” I said to him, “Well, I had a real craving for plums,” he explained, “but I feared they would not be good for me, so I used the theriac and wine, dressing the millstones, so to speak, to ensure that they would grind properly.”’ The following account is also related by Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī at first hand from his father, who in turn had heard it from Muḥammad ibn Dāwūd ibn al-Jarrāḥ. The latter had told him: Bukhtīshūʿ the physician was a friend of my father’s. We had a companion who enjoyed his food and was very fat. Whenever he met Bukhtīshūʿ, he would say to him, ‘I should like you to make up some diet medicine for me’. He badgered him in this fashion until finally Bukhtīshūʿ wrote out a prescription for him for a preparation containing colocynth pulp and scammony. The physician said to my father, ‘The whole point is that he must keep to a light regime, and then discipline himself to refrain from eating anything harmful.’ He dined at our house on the day he began his diet, and he took only three raṭls of stewed meat, which he ate with three raṭl s of bread. However, when he had finished it, he asked for more. My father refused, and subsequently kept him in his house until the day was over, meanwhile sending a messenger to his wife to tell her that she should not let him eat anything when he went home. When he realized that the man was becoming restless, he let him go home. Once there, he asked his wife for something to eat, but there was nothing to be had. As it happened, however, she had overlooked a pot on a shelf with breadcrumbs in it; the man found it and ate several raṭl s of the breadcrumbs. The following morning, he took the medicine, but was puzzled, for it had gone down to a full stomach, and consequently had no effect. As the day advanced, he said to himself, ‘Bukhtīshūʿ is a fool,’ and proceeded to devour ten raṭls of slices of meat and ten raṭl s of bread and to drink a carafe of cold water. An hour later, the medicine was trying to find a way out, either at the upper end or at the lower, but was blocked in both directions, and consequently the man’s abdomen swelled up and his breathing became stertorous; it appeared that he was about to die. His wife screamed and begged my father for help, and he had the man carried in a litter to Bukhtīshūʿ. It was a very hot day, and Bukhtīshūʿ was in a sour mood at being called out of his house. He asked about the patient until he had heard his entire history. As it happened, there were more than 200 birds in Bukhtīshūʿ’s house, sandpipers, rails (?), egrets (?) and the like. There was a large pool for them, filled with water, by now warmed by the sun, in which the birds had deposited their droppings. Bukhtīshūʿ had his servants bring some ground salt and threw it into the water of the pool, where it dissolved. He then had them bring a funnel, and poured this mixture down the man’s throat as he lay unconscious, warning everyone to stand well back, and with reason, as the patient soon vomited and voided copiously. He was very weak afterward, but his strength was sustained with perfumes and francolin broth. A few days later, he had recovered, much to our surprise. We asked Bukhtīshūʿ about him, and he replied, ‘Thinking about the case, I saw that if I were to apply a conventional remedy, the patient would die, because of the length of time it would take to prepare and administer the medicine. We treat severe cases of colic with pigeon manure and salt; there was my pool, with its water that had been warmed by the sun, with the necessary quantity of bird droppings in it, and it was more readily available than anything else, so I treated him with it, and by the grace of God, it worked.’ [8.4.13] I have read somewhere that Bukhtīshūʿ used to prescribe an enema while the moon was in conjunction with Deneb. 44 This would cure a case of colic on the spot. He would also administer medicine when the moon was in opposition to Venus, and the patient would be better that very day. After Bukhtīshūʿ’s death, his son ʿUbayd Allāh and his three daughters suffered the exactions of viziers and other officials, who took so much of their wealth that in the end they scattered and went their diverse ways. Bukhtīshūʿ died on a Sunday with eight days remaining in the month of Ṣafar in the year 256 [29 January 870]. [8.4.14] A number of aphorisms are attributed to Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl, including the following: To drink on an empty stomach is harmful; to eat on a full stomach is more harmful still. Another runs: It is better to eat a small quantity of something harmful than a large quantity of something beneficial. [8.4.15] Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl is the author of a book on cupping, in question-and-answer format. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl, see Sezgin, gas iii , 243; Ullmann, Medizin , 109 n. 4. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 The tenth Abbasid caliph, r. 232–247/847–861. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Mutawakkil ʿAlā ʾllāh’ (H. Kennedy). 3 See his biography in this chapter ( Ch. 8.29 ). 4 The ninth Abbasid caliph, r. 227–232/842–847. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Wāt̲h̲iḳ Bi ʾllāh’ (K.V. Zetterstéen, C.E. Bosworth & E. van Donzel). For Pethion, see Ch. 8.1.1 n. 3 and Ch. 9.16 . 5 Vizier under the caliphs al-Muʿtaṣim (r. 218–227/833–842) and al-Wāthiq (227–232/842–847), Ibn al-Zayyāt (d. 233/847) was also a patron of letters and a poet himself; his dīwān contains numerous satiric poems in which he mocks Ibn Abī Duʾād, towards whom he entertained great – and reciprocated – enmity. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Zayyāt’ (D. Sourdel). 6 Ibn Abī Duʾād (d. 240/854), a Ḥanafī scholar, was the chief qadi under the caliphs al-Muʿtaṣim (r. 218–227/833–842) and al-Wāthiq (227–232/842–847), and one of main enforcers of the miḥ-nah (inquisition) promoted by al-Maʾmūn in 218/833. See ei Three art. ‘Aḥmad ibn Abī Duʾād’ (J. Turner). 7 Both Ibn al-Zayyāt and Ibn Abī Duʾād fell in disgrace with al-Mutawakkil, who ended the miḥ-nah and sought the support of the Sunnī scholars. Al-Mutawakkil had Ibn al-Zayyat tortured and executed, and Ibn Abī Duʾād died shortly after his properties had been confiscated and his sons imprisoned. 8 Baghdad; al-Mutawakkil ordinarily resided in Samarra, on the Tigris some 125km north of Baghdad. He beautified the city with a number of palaces and the Great Mosque. See Northedge, Historical Topography of Samarra . 9 Unclear. Not to be identified with al-Mutawakkil’s vizier ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Yaḥyā ibn Khāqān ( ei 2 art. ‘al-Mutawakkil ʿAlā ʾllāh’ (H. Kennedy)), who tried to persuade al-Mutawakkil to change his mind and appoint al-Muʿtazz as heir, instead of al-Muntaṣir, and was not involved in the conspiracy mentioned in this anecdote. 10 Eldest son of al-Mutawakkil. 11 Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad ibn al-Khaṣīb al-Jarjarāʾī, kātib and vizier under al-Mustanṣir, d. 265/879 (al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , vi:372–373; ei 2 art. ‘al-D̲ j̲ard̲j̲arāʾī’ (D. Sourdel)). 12 Successor to al-Mustanṣir, r. 248–252/862–866. 13 R. 255–256/869–870. 14 Abū Ayyūb Sulaymān ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir, (d. 266/879–880), a member of the famous Ṭāhirid ‘dynasty’ of military commanders, governors and high officials; head of the shurṭah of Baghdad and the Sawād (fertile alluvial plains of southern Iraq); also known as a poet (al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xv:396, Sezgin, gas ii , 611). 15 His vizier. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Wahb’ (P. Shinar). 16 Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn ʿAlī al-Ḥuṣrī al-Qayrawānī. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥuṣrī’ (Ch. Bouyahia). 17 Al-Ḥuṣrī’s Nūr al-ṭarf wa-nawr al-ẓarf (‘ The Light of the Eye and Blossom of Wit ’) in the version available does not seem to have this anecdote. However this anecdote, abridged by iau , is to be found in al-Ḥuṣrī’s work, Zahr al-ādāb wa-thamar al-albāb (see al-Ḥuṣrī, Zahr al-ādāb , i:250). Perhaps iau confused the two works. 18 A son of the caliph al-Mahdī and briefly caliph himself in 202/817. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). 19 This anecdote takes place during the caliphate of al-Muʿtaṣim or al-Wāthiq, i.e., before the two previous stories. 20 A variety of euphorbia, proverbial for the heat it yielded when used as firewood. 21 A 3rd/9th cent. secretary of state under several Abbasid caliphs; an able statesman and accomplished man of letters. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-D̲ j̲arrāḥ’ (D. Sourdel). 22 The punkah ( khaysh ) was stuffed. See Dozy, Supplément , s.v. (‘on le rembourre, etc.’). 23 See the Glossary of Weights & Measures. 24 Unclear. It is read by all mss . Possibly a femine or plural noun has been lost before the word (‘a most excellent xxx’). 25 Secretary to the caliph al-Mutawakkil. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Fatḥ b. K̲h̲āḳān’ (O. Pinto). 26 Marginal note in mss as : ‘Variant reading, apples.’ 27 The port of Sīnīz on the Persian Gulf was famed for its production of fine Egyptian-style linens; hence ‘Sīnīzī gowns, like the very air in thinness, like a mirage’. For the quotation, see al-Azdī, Ḥikāyat Abī l-Qāsim al-Baghdādī , ed. ʿAbbūd al-Shāljī, 133–134, where wrongly attributed to Abū Ḥayyān al-Tawḥīdī. The translation is from a new edition and translation of al-Muṭahhar al-Azdī’s Ḥikāyat Abī l-Qāsim al-Baghdādī by Emily Selove and Geert Jan van Gelder that will be published soon. 28 Al-Ḥasan ibn Makhlad ibn al-Jarrāḥ, kātib and, under al-Muʿtamid, vizier (d. 269/882); see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Mak̲h̲lad’ (D. Sourdel). 29 Aḥmad ibn Ibrāhīm ibn Ismāʿīl ibn Dāwūd ibn Ḥamdūn was a man of letters and boon companion of the caliphs al-Maʾmūn, al-Muʿtaṣim, and al-Mutawwakil. According to Yāqūt, he fell into disgrace with al-Mutawakkil after a quarrel with al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān and the caliph had his ear cut off; see Yāqūt Muʿjam al-udabāʾ (1993) , i:165–166. On the Ḥamdūn family see also ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Ḥamdūn’ (C. Vadet). With his son Abū ʿAbd Allāh he figures frequently in anecdotes in Abū l-Faraj al-Iṣfahānī, Aghānī, passim , and in Ibrāhīm al-Bayhaqī and al-Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh Storm and Stress (Bosworth), 196 n. 570. 30 Son of al-Mutawakkil and subsequently caliph himself (r. 252–255/866–869), after the reign of his cousin al-Mustaʿin. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muʿtazz Bi ʾllāh’ (C.E. Bosworth). 31 The biography of Thābit ibn Sinān ibn Thābit ibn Qurrah will be found at Ch. 10.5 . 32 See Ch. 8.3.8 . This anecdote can be found in al-Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 150–151; cf. facs., 166. 33 A prolific medical writer of the 3rd/9th cent. His biography will be found later in this chapter (8.28) . 34 The heir apparent was al-Mustanṣir, but the vizier ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Yaḥyā ibn Khāqān persuaded al-Mutawakkil to change his mind and nominate al-Muʿtazz, triggering the plot against him. 35 Governor and chief of police in Baghdad under the caliph al-Mutawakkil; see ei 2 art. ‘Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh’ (K.V. Zetterstéen & C.E. Bosworth). 36 ‘Waṣīf, a slave purchased by al-Muʿtaṣim, was a Turkish army commander who served under him and later became a chamberlain ( ḥājib ) for al-Wāthiq and al-Mutawakkil,’ al-Ṭabarī (Kraemer), 37 n. 132. 37 A ‘boon companion’ ( nadīm ) of the caliph al-Mutawakkil; as such, he wielded considerable influence over the caliph and affairs of state. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Mudabbir’ (H.L. Gottschalk). 38 ʿUbayd Allāh was an 11th cent. member of the family and author among other important works of a history of physicians used by iau (Ullmann, Medizin , 110–111 no. 7). See his biography at Ch. 8.6 . iau implies he is reading al-Ruhāwī here through him. His Manāqib al-aṭibbāʾ is lost. For this anecdote see also Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 103. 39 A polymath of the 4th–5th/8th–9th cent. polymath. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Bīrūnī’ (D.J. Boilot). His biography will be found in Ch. 11.15 below. 40 K. al-jamāhir fi maʿrifat al-jawāhir , a work on mineralogy. See al-Bīrūnī, Kitāb al-jamāhir (Cairo ed), 53; and al-Bīrūnī, Kitāb al-jamāhir (trns. Said). 41 Nayrūz or nawrūz , New Year’s Day in the Persian solar year, celebrated in Islamic times toward midsummer. See ei 2 art. ‘Nawrūz’ (R. Levy & C.E. Bosworth). 42 Granddaughter of the caliph al-Manṣūr and wife of Hārūn al-Rashīd. She was particularly remembered for the series of wells, reservoirs and artificial pools that provided water for pilgrims along the route from Baghdad to Mecca and Medina, which was named the darb Zubaydah in her honour. The exploits of Zubaydah and her husband, Hārūn al-Rashīd, form part of the basis for The 1001 Nights . On Zubaydah see Abbott, Two Queens of Baghdād , 137–264. 43 Unidentified. 44 I.e., α Cygni , the brightest star in the constellation Cygnus. 8.5. Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ 1 [8.5.1] Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ was a deeply learned man who was proficient in the art of medicine, both as a skilful practitioner and as a master of medical theory. He is the author of a number of admirable works on the subject. The art of medicine had been practised for several generations in his family, and each of his predecessors had been outstanding in his own time and had been celebrated as the marvel of the age. [8.5.2] The following account is taken by me from a biography of our present subject by his son, ʿUbayd Allāh, 2 who drew largely on information obtained from his father: My grandfather, ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, he says, was an official in the financial service, and when al-Muqtadir, 3 may God have mercy upon him, became caliph, he invited him to serve at the palace. ʿUbayd Allāh remained there for a short time, and then died, leaving two young children, a son named Jibrīl, who became my father, and a daughter who lived with them. On the night of his death, al-Muqtadir dispatched eighty chamberlains to carry off all the chattels, furniture and plate that they could find. After he had been interred, his wife, who was the daughter of a very distinguished administrator, a man named al-Ḥarsūn, 4 went into hiding, with the result that her father was arrested. The caliph compelled him to give up the possessions that Bukhtīshūʿ’s daughter had left in his keeping, 5 and confiscated much of his wealth; he died shortly thereafter. His daughter, however, fled to ʿUkbarā 6 with her son Jibrīl and his sister, both of whom were very young at the time, to escape the exactions of the caliph. Subsequently, she married a physician, leaving her son in the care of an uncle of his, who lived in Daqūqā’. 7 When she died, not long after her marriage, her husband took possession of everything she had and ordered the boy out. Young Jibrīl made his way to Baghdad with almost nothing but the clothes he stood up in. There he was taken in by a physician named Tarmirah, 8 who was a close associate of al-Muqtadir and one of his personal physicians; he provided Jibrīl with a place to stay and taught him the rudiments of medicine. Jibrīl also studied under a physician named Yūsuf al-Wāsiṭī, 9 and frequented the hospital, where he learned more about the art. There were maternal uncles of his living in the Roman quarter, 10 and sometimes he would go to visit them. They were not sympathetic toward him, criticizing his interest in learning and the art of medicine; they would ridicule him, saying, ‘This young fellow wants to be like his grandfather Bukhtīshūʿ and his great-grandfather Jibrīl; he is not content to be like his uncles.’ Jibrīl, however, paid no attention to their jeers. One day, an emissary arrived from Kirmān, 11 bringing Muʿizz al-Dawlah 12 a striped ass, 13 a man seven shibr 14 tall and another man who was only two shibr in height. As it happened, he stayed in Qaṣr Faraj, 15 on the east side, not far from the shop 16 where my father Jibrīl carried on his practice. The emissary used to go there frequently, to sit and chat with him in friendly fashion. One day, he sent for my father to consult him as to whether he should have himself bled. My father advised him he should have the operation done, performed it himself, and then attended his patient assiduously for two days. Afterwards the emissary sent him, after the fashion of the Daylamites, 17 a tray holding bandages, a metal basin, an ewer, and all the necessary implements. He then summoned my father and asked him to visit his household to see what medical care they might require. The establishment proved to include a slave-girl of whom the emissary was very fond. She was suffering from a chronic loss of blood, which every physician of note in Fārs, Kirmān and Iraq had tried to treat, without success. When my father saw her, he devised a plan featuring a medicine 18 that he made her drink. In less than forty days she was whole and sound, much to the emissary’s satisfaction; some time later, he summoned my father and presented him with a thousand dirhams, a gown of siglaton 19 fabric, a Nubian robe, and a turban of gold and silver brocade. ‘Ask them to pay you what they owe you,’ said the emissary, and when he did so, the slave-girl gave him a thousand dirhams and two of every kind of apparel. In addition, he was given an equipage consisting of a mule and litter and a black slave to run behind. Thus outfitted, he made a more magnificent showing than any of his maternal uncles. When the uncles saw him, they would salute him and receive him graciously, whereupon he would say to them, ‘It is the clothes you are honouring, not me!’ When the emissary returned to Persia, his reports of Jibrīl’s medical accomplishments caused the physician’s renown to spread throughout Fārs and Kirmān. As a result, Jibrīl went to Shīrāz. Upon his arrival there, ʿAḍud al-Dawlah 20 (whose career as ruler of Shīrāz was beginning just about that time) was informed of his skill and sent for him. When Jibrīl went to see him, he presented the emir with a monograph on the optic nerve (a subject with which he was familiar from previous experience), written in a very elegant style. ʿAḍud al-Dawlah favoured him and granted him a generous salary and ample allowances. Subsequently, Kawkīn, the husband of a maternal aunt of ʿAḍud al-Dawlah’s and the prefect of the Jūrqab district, 21 was taken ill, and requested the dispatch of a physician; in response, ʿAḍud al-Dawlah sent Jibrīl. When he arrived, Kawkīn received him most graciously, showing him great honour. Kawkīn was suffering from pain in the joints, gout, and weakness of the intestines; Jibrīl treated these ailments with a digestive brew 22 made from grated apples. This was in the year 357/968. The treatment did Kawkīn a great deal of good, and he rewarded Jibrīl handsomely, showed him respect, and sent him back to Shīrāz with great honour. Subsequently, ʿAḍud al-Dawlah entered Baghdad, bringing Jibrīl with him as one of his personal attendants. There, Jibrīl overhauled the hospital, drawing two salaries, one by virtue of his post as ʿAḍud al-Dawlah’s physician, which was three hundred shujā ʿ ī 23 dirhams, and the other by virtue of his post at the hospital, which was also three hundred shujā ʿ ī dirhams, over and above his ordinary stipend. He was required to attend at the palace two days and two nights every week. On one occasion, al-Ṣāḥib Ibn ʿAbbād, 24 may God be pleased with him, was afflicted with a severe stomach complaint, and wrote to ʿAḍud al-Dawlah asking him to dispatch a physician. Ibn ʿAbbād was well known for his accomplishments, and accordingly ʿAḍud al-Dawlah gave orders that all the physicians from Baghdad and elsewhere should be brought before him so that he could consult them to determine which of them was most suitable for him to send to attend the vizier. The assembled physicians unanimously advised him to send Jibrīl, for they were envious of his preferment and welcomed an opportunity of having him removed from their midst. ‘To attend such a man as this,’ they said, ‘there could be no better choice than Abū ʿĪsā Jibrīl, for he reasons incomparably, and moreover he speaks Persian.’ This verdict met with ʿAḍud al-Dawlah’s approval: he ordered that Jibrīl should be provided with funds adequate to cover the cost of the journey, a fine mount and pack-mules, and sent him off. When he reached Rayy, 25 al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād received him most hospitably, lodging him in a well-appointed house with a chamberlain, a cook, a treasurer, a factor, a doorkeeper, and other staff. One day, when Jibrīl had been staying there for a week, the vizier sent for him. When he arrived, he found that his host had invited learned men from various disciplines, and had selected a man of the city who had some knowledge of the art of medicine to debate with him. This person asked Jibrīl various questions about the pulse. Jibrīl saw what the game was, and proceeded to expound aspects of the matter that were beyond the scope of the questions, going into detailed explanations that none of the party had ever heard of, raising difficult points and then resolving them so impressively that there was not a man in the room who could withhold his respect and admiration. Al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād bestowed splendid robes of honour upon him that day, and asked him to write a treatise exclusively devoted to the ailments affecting every part of the body, from head to foot. The result of this commission was Jibrīl’s Lesser Compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-ṣaghīr ), which discusses nothing but the disorders of every part of the body, from head to foot, just as the vizier had requested. Al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād was greatly impressed with it and gave him a present worth 1,000 dinars. After that, Jibrīl never tired of saying, ‘I wrote 200 pages, and I received 1,000 dinars for them.’ When ʿAḍud al-Dawlah heard of the matter, he was filled with admiration and held Jibrīl in higher esteem than ever. When Jibrīl left Rayy and returned to Baghdad, he brought with him splendid apparel and a numerous train of slaves, domestic staff and servants. ʿAḍud al-Dawlah received him as generously as anyone could have wished. [8.5.3] ʿUbayd Allāh continues: I have been informed by a person whom I trust that the physicians came to congratulate Jibrīl on his safe arrival. Abū l-Ḥusayn ibn Kashkarāyā, 26 a pupil of Sinān’s, said to him, ‘O Abū ʿĪsā [Jibrīl], we sowed the seed, and here it is you who have eaten the harvest; we tried to have you removed from our midst, and here you are nearer than ever,’ referring to their scheming, which was mentioned earlier. Jibrīl laughed at these words, and replied, ‘These matters are not in our hands; there is One who manages and rules them.’ He remained in Baghdad for three years. Some time thereafter, Khusrawshāh ibn Mānādhir, 27 the king of the Daylamites, fell ill. His condition deteriorated to such an extent that a constant watch was kept on him. As he wasted away, his apprehension grew. He was attended by twelve physicians, from Rayy and other cities, but their ministrations merely aggravated his illness. Finally he wrote to al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād, asking him to send a physician. Ibn ʿAbbād replied that he knew of no one who was fit to take on such a case but Abū ʿĪsā Jibrīl, whereupon Khusrawshāh asked him to write to the physician and ask him, in the name of their close relations, to come to his aid. He also wrote to ʿAḍud al-Dawlah, asking him to send Jibrīl, adding that he was so ill that there was no time to be lost, and the emir responded, sending the physician in honourable style. When he reached the court of the Daylamite king, he said to him, ‘I will treat you only if all these physicians hovering about are dismissed.’ The king dismissed them, thanking them for their services, and Jibrīl stayed with him. Khusrawshāh subsequently asked him to compose a treatise on the course of the disease as it had actually occurred, indicating the treatment that should be selected and relied on. Jibrīl did so, entitling the work On Headache Due to Association with the Orifice of the Stomach and the Diaphragm ( Fī alam al-dimāgh bi-mushārakat fam al-maʿidah wa-l-ḥijāb ). 28 The last word refers to the partition between the organs of digestion and the organs of respiration named the ‘diaphragm’. When Jibrīl rejoined al-Ṣāḥib Ibn ʿAbbād, the vizier asked him which of the constituents of the body was pre-eminent. He replied, ‘The blood,’ whereupon the vizier asked him to write a work for him demonstrating that that was the case. In response, Jibrīl produced a treatise elegantly demonstrating the truth of his assertion. At that time he was also busily engaged on the writing of his Greater Compendium . Jibrīl returned to Baghdad after the death of ʿAḍud al-Dawlah and lived there for many years, devoting himself exclusively to writing. During this time he completed his Greater Compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-kabīr ), which he subtitled al-Kāfī , after al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād, 29 in recognition of the great vizier’s affection for him, and donated a copy of the work to the Dār al-ʿIlm library in Baghdad. 30 He also wrote The Congruity between the Sayings of Prophets and Philosophers ( K. al-Muṭābaqah bayna qawl al-anbiyāʾ wal-falāsifah ). This work is unique among treatises in the domain of the religious sciences for the large number of quotations given in it, complete with indication of the works from which the author took them. It is also noteworthy for the attention it devotes to the various shades of meaning of obscure, rarely used philosophical terms, whereas it devotes relatively little space to religious terms, as they are unambiguous and in general use. During the same period, Jibrīl composed a treatise entitled Refutation of the Jews ( M. fī l-radd ʿalā l-yahūd ), containing a wide variety of information, including proof of the lawfulness of abrogating parts of the revelations brought by the prophets, evidence of the soundness of the doctrine of the coming of the Messiah and that he has already come, showing that continuing to wait for him is an error, and the validity of the Eucharist and the bread and wine. Besides these, he composed numerous smaller works, including one on why wine is used in the Eucharist although it is of its essence a prohibited substance, and one discussing the reasons why things are lawful or prohibited. On one occasion Jibrīl travelled to Jerusalem, fasted for a day there, and then went on to Damascus. Al-ʿAzīz ibn al-Muʿizz 31 (may God have mercy upon him) heard of him and sent him a very gracious, respectful letter inviting him to court. 32 Jibrīl, however, put al-ʿAzīz off with excuses, explaining that there were matters with which he must deal in Baghdad; once he had finished with them, he said, he would certainly attend al-ʿAzīz in Cairo. In the event, when he returned to Baghdad he remained there, abandoning the idea of going to Egypt. Eventually the king of the Daylamites sent for Jibrīl and asked him to return to Rayy. Upon arriving there, he brought a copy of his Greater Compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-kabīr ) with him as a donation. [8.5.4] ʿUbayd Allāh also says: I have also heard that it is that copy that governs the procedures of the hospital, and that Jibrīl is known by it, being referred to among the doc tors there as ‘Abū ʿĪsā [Jibrīl], the author of the Greater Compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-kabīr ).’ Jibrīl remained at the court of the King of the Daylamites in Rayy for three years, and then left. The king was furious, but he had sworn most solemnly 33 that whenever the physician wished to leave, no obstacles would be put in his way, and consequently was unable to prevent him from taking his departure. He went to Baghdad and lived there for a time, but then was summoned to the sickbed of Ḥusām al-Dawlah, 34 the ruler of Mosul. During his stay there, he had a most extraordinary adventure which he was never tired of recounting. One of the women of the harem fell acutely ill, and Jibrīl advised that a phial of her urine should be taken. As it happened, he was with Ḥusām al-Dawlah when a slave-girl brought the phial to him. He examined it, then turned to Ḥusām al-Dawlah and said, ‘This woman is going to die.’ Ḥusām al-Dawlah was distressed at this pronouncement, and the slave-girl, seeing how moved he was, shrieked, tore her clothes, and made as though to retire, but Jibrīl called her back and said to her, ‘Is there something you haven’t told me about this woman?’ The girl swore that no one had done anything that was not accepted practice. ‘Have you by any chance been dyeing her with henna?’, he asked. When the girl admitted that that was the case, he scolded her, and then, turning to Ḥusām al-Dawlah, he said, ‘Good news, O emir: she will be better in three days,’ and so it proved. Ubayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl adds: ‘My father found this adventure so enthralling that he told it over and over again, marvelling afresh every time.’ When Jibrīl returned to Baghdad, al-ʿAmīd, 35 who was ill, kept him constantly in attendance, hardly allowing him to leave his side, and assigned him living quarters in his own palace; the physician stood high in his favour. Subsequently, the emir Mumahhid al-Dawlah 36 wrote to Jibrīl and invited him in flattering terms to come up to his court in Mayyāfāriqīn. 37 When he finally succumbed to the emir’s blandishments and went there, Mumahhid al-Dawlah received him with the respect invariably shown by all who met him. [8.5.5] An entertaining anecdote is told about Jibrīl in Mayyāfāriqīn. In the first year of his residence there, he gave the emir a laxative draught, saying to him, ‘It is important for you to take this medicine first thing tomorrow morning.’ Mumahhid al-Dawlah deliberately took it late in the evening instead. Next morning, Jibrīl rode to the palace, where he went to see the emir, took his pulse, and enquired about the draught he had given him. Mumahhid al-Dawlah, by way of putting the physician to the test, replied that it had had no effect. ‘Your pulse tells me otherwise,’ said Jibrīl, ‘and it is a more reliable informant.’ The emir laughed, and then he asked, ‘How many bowel movements do you think I shall have with this medicine?’ ‘In the case of the emir, twenty-five,’ replied Jibrīl, ‘for someone else, possibly more or fewer.’ ‘Thus far I have had twenty-three,’ said Mumahhid al-Dawlah. ‘You will soon have the remainder, just as I said,’ grunted Jibrīl. He was offended; after laying out a course of treatment for the emir to follow, he took his leave and ordered his horse saddled and all preparations made for departure. When Mumahhid al-Dawlah heard of this, he sent Jibrīl a message enquiring why he was leaving. ‘A man like myself is not to be put to the test,’ he replied, ‘for my renown is such as to make trial unnecessary.’ The emir was so pleased with this answer that he had a mule and a well-filled sack of dirhams sent to Jibrīl. During this time, the king of the Daylamites sent Jibrīl a number of flattering letters inviting him to pay a visit to his court. Jibrīl wrote to Mumahhid al-Dawlah requesting permission to go, but the emir refused, and as a result Jibrīl stayed in Mayyāfāriqīn for another three years. He died there on Friday 8 Rajab in the year 396 of the Hijrah [10 April 1006], when he was 85 years of age, and was buried in an oratory just outside the city. [8.5.6] Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ is the author of the following works: The greater compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-kabīr ), subtitled al-Kāfī , in five volumes, which he wrote for al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād. The work is in question-and-answer format. The lesser compendium ( al-Kunnāsh al-ṣaghīr ) also written for al-Ṣāḥib Ibn ‘Abbād. On the optic nerve ( R. fī ʿaṣab al-ʿayn ). On headache due to association with the [cardiac] orifice of the stomach and the partition, named the ‘diaphragm’, that divides the organs of digestion from the organs of respiration ( M. fī alam al-dimāgh bi-mushārakat fam al-maʿidah wa-l-ḥijāb al-fāṣil bayna ālāt al-ghidhāʾ wa-ālāt al-nafas al-musammā dhiyāfraghmā ), which he wrote for Khusrawshāh ibn Mānādhir, the king of the Daylamites. On the pre-eminence of the blood amongst the elements of the body ( M. fī anna afḍal usṭuqussāt al-badan huwa al-dam ), which he wrote for al-Ṣāḥib ibn ʿAbbād. The congruity between the sayings of prophets and philosophers ( K. almuṭābaqah bayna qawl al-anbiyāʾ wa-l-falāsifah ). Refutation of the Jews ( M. fī l-radd ʿalā l-yahūd ). The reason why wine is used in the Eucharist although it is a prohibited substance ( M. fī annahū lima juʿila min al-khamr qurbān wa-aṣluhu muḥarram ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, see Sezgin, gas iii , 314; Ullmann, Medizin , 110 no. 6. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 The biography of ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ (Ullmann, Medizin , 110–111 no. 7) will be found immediately following the present one ( Ch. 8.6 ). The book is probably no. 2 in the list of his works, K. al-manāqib al-aṭibbāʾ . 3 Abū l-Faḍl Jaʿfar ibn Aḥmad al-Muʿtaḍid, known as al-Muqtadir bi-Allāh, Abbasid caliph (r. 295–320/908–932). 4 Unidentified. It could be read as al-Ḥursūn. 5 We learned in the previous biography that after the death of Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl in 256/870, his son ʿUbayd Allāh and three daughters suffered the exactions of viziers and other officials. 6 A town located on the east bank of the Tigris, approximately halfway between Baghdad and Sāmarrā. 7 A town in the Jazīrah province of Iraq, located some 40km southeast of Kirkūk on the main road between Baghdad and Mosul. 8 Otherwise unknown. 9 Perhaps the father or grandfather of Ibn al-Wāsiṭī, physician to the caliph al-Mustaẓhir (r. 487–512/1094–1118). Ibn al-Wāsiṭī’s biography will be found in Ch. 10.61 . 10 Dār al-Rūm, a quarter of Baghdad. 11 A province of Persia, lying south of Khorasan. 12 The first of the Būyid emirs of Iraq. From 334–335/945, he was officially recognized as the ruler of Iraq and Khūzestan and given the title Muʿizz al-Dawlah. See ei 2 art. ‘Buwayhids or Būyids’ (Cl. Cahen). 13 Perhaps a zebra, as no species of Asiatic wild ass has a striped coat. How such an exotic creature as a zebra could have come to be in the possession of a showman from Kirmān is a matter for conjecture. 14 The size of a shibr varied by time and place. Taking a value of approximately 32cm, the giant would then have been 2.24m in height, while the small man would have been only 64cm tall, both striking figures. See also the Glossary of Weights & Measures. 15 A quarter in the eastern part of Baghdad. 16 Dukkān , the ordinary term for a shop, in this context the shop where a doctor or pharmacist gave advice and mixed compounds. 17 An Iranian people originally from the Gīlān region. The Būyid dynasty was of Daylamite origin. See ei 2 art. ‘Daylam’ (V. Minorsky). 18 The Arabic word is maʿjūn , which is ordinarily an electuary, i.e., a medicinal paste made with honey or syrup mixed with other ingredients. In this case, the mixture must have been quite thin to allow drinking. 19 A heavy fabric of damask silk, widely used for upmarket clothing, bedding and hangings. 20 Another of the Būyid emirs, the nephew of Muʿizz al-Dawlah (see n. 12 above). See ei 2 art. ‘ʿAḍud al-Dawla’ (H. Bowen). 21 Unidentified. Perhaps a corruption of Jawzaq, near Nisabur. 22 The Arabic word is jawārish , which is often translated ‘digestive’, meaning anything that improves appetite and promotes digestion, a ‘stomachic’. 23 The shujāʿī or tājī dirham, was a coin minted in Baghdād by ʿAḍud al-Dawlah, bearing the inscription ʿAḍud al-Dawlah wa-Tāj al-Millah Abū Shujāʿ ; see Abbott, ‘Two Būyid Coins’. 24 One of the great viziers of the Būyid period. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn ʿAbbād’ (Cl. Cahen & Ch. Pellat). 25 Near the modern Tehran. 26 His biography will be found in Ch. 10.31 . The biography of Sinān ibn Thābit is in Ch. 10.4 . 27 Khusrawshāh was the son of a rather unknown Daylamite king referred to in some sources as Abū l-Fawāris Mānādhir ibn Justān (the mss of iau read Mubādir instead of Mānādhir). Almost nothing is known about Khusrawshāh’s life, but dirhams were minted with his name in 361/971–972, see Amedroz, ‘On a dirham of Khusraw Shāh’. On Khusrawshāh and Mānādhir, see Madelung, ‘Abū Isḥāq al-Ṣabī on the Alids’, 54–55; and Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty in Iraq , 86 n. 330. 28 The Galenic doctrine of sumpatheia allowed impacts from one body part, such as the (cardiac) orifice of the stomach and the diaphragm, on another as a cause of illness. See Holmes, ‘Sympathy’. 29 He was also known by the honorific title Kāfī l-Kufāt; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn ʿAbbād’ (Cl. Cahen and Ch. Pellat). 30 Possibly the one founded by the vizier Abū Naṣr Sābūr ibn Ardashīr in 381/991 or 383/993. 31 The fifth Fāṭimid caliph (r. 355–386/975–996). 32 In Cairo. 33 bi-l-ṭalāq , i.e. that he would divorce his wives if he broke his word. 34 The ʿUqaylid al-Muqallad ibn al-Musayyab Ḥusām al-Dawlah, ruler of Mosul 386–391/986–1001. 35 There were two viziers, father and son, Abū l-Faḍl (d. 360/970) and Abū l-Fatḥ (d. 366/977), each known as Ibn al-ʿAmīd; see, e.g., ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-ʿAmīd’ (Cl. Cahen). It is impossible, on chronological grounds, that the grandfather, called al-ʿAmīd, is meant here. Perhaps Abū l-Fatḥ is meant, and ‘Ibn’ was mistakenly omitted. 36 One of the Marwānid dynasty that ruled in northern Mesopotamia in the 4th/10th to 5th/11th centuries. See ei 2 art. ‘Marwānids’ (C. Hillenbrand). 37 The modern Silvan, in southeastern Turkey. 8.6. ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl 1 Abū Saʿīd ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl was thoroughly versed in the art of medicine, having been not only celebrated for his skill as a practitioner but also familiar with all aspects of medical theory. As such, he ranked among the most distinguished physicians and was an unrivalled master of his profession. In addition to his profound understanding of medicine (on which he wrote numerous works), moreover, he possessed an extensive knowledge of the Christians and their various sects. ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl lived in Mayyāfāriqīn. He was a contemporary of Ibn Buṭlān, 2 with whom he associated frequently; they were close friends. He died some time during the decade of the 450s [1058–1066]. ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl is the author of the following works: 3 On differentiation between [kinds of] milk ( M. fī l-ikhtilāf bayn al-albān ), a treatise which he composed for a friend of his in the year 447/1055. The merits of physicians ( K. manāqib al-aṭibbāʾ ), a work in which he recounts some of the memorable events in the lives of physicians and some of their noteworthy achievements. He composed it in the year 423/1032. 4 The Medical Garden ( K. al-rawḍah al-ṭibbiyyah ), composed for the learned scholar Abū l-Ḥasan Muḥammad ibn ʿAlī. 5 The maintenance of procreation ( K. al-tawaṣṣul ilā ḥifẓ al-tanāsul ), composed in the year 441/1049. Letter to the learned scholar Abū Ṭāhir ibn ʿAbd al-Bāqī, known as Ibn Qaṭramīz, 6 ( Risālah ilā l-ustādh Abī Ṭāhir ibn ʿAbd al-Bāqī al-maʿrūf bi-bn Qaṭramīz ), written in answer to his question on ritual ablution and why it is necessary ( fī l-ṭahārah wa-wujūbihā ). Essay on the necessity of the movement of respiration ( R. fī bayān wujūb ḥarakat al-nafas ). Extraordinary Questions ( K. nawādir al-masāʾil ), abstracted from the disciplines of the ancient masters in the art of medicine. Memorandum for the Sedentary and Provision for the Traveller ( K. tadhkirat al-ḥāḍir wa-zād al-musāfir ). Book for the specialist on the science of occult properties ( K. al-khāṣṣ fī ʿilm al-khawāṣṣ ). On the constitutions and characteristics of animals and the uses of their parts ( K. ṭabāʾiʿ al-ḥayawān wa-khawāṣṣihā wa-manāfiʿ aʿḍāʾihā ), composed for the emir Naṣīr al-Dawlah. 7 Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl, see Ullmann, Medizin , 59 no. 95, 89, 110–111, 230, 236, Meyerhof, ‘An Arabic Compendium’; see Kahl, ʿUbaidallāh ibn Buḫtī šūʿ on Apparent Death . 2 Abū l-Ḥasan al-Mukhtār ibn Buṭlān (d. ca. 457/1065), a celebrated Christian physician in Baghdad, known for his Taqwīm al-ṣiḥḥah ( The Almanac of Health ), a Latin version of which was published in 1531 at Strasbourg under the title Tacuinum sanitatis ; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Buṭlān’ (J. Schacht). His biography will be found in Ch. 10.38 . 3 For a translation and edition of a treatise on apparent death ( K. Taḥrīm dafn al-aḥyāʾ ) by ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, see Kahl, ʿUbaidallāh ibn Buḫtī šūʿ on Apparent Death . 4 The work (now lost) is often cited by iau and Ibn al-Qifṭī. 5 Perhaps Abū l-Ḥasan Muḥammad ibn ʿAlī ibn ʿUmar, a 5th/11th cent. poet, man of letters and Shāfiʿī faqīh of Baghdad; see ei 2 art. ‘Muḥammad b. ʿAlī b. ʿUmar’ (Ed.). For an edition of this work, see ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl, al-Rawḍah al-ṭibbiyyah . 6 Son of Big Bottle. Unidentified. 7 The identity of this particular emir Naṣīr al-Dawlah is uncertain. Anna Contadini suggests that ‘In all likelihood he may be identified with Amir Naṣr (rather than Naṣīr) al-Dawlah Abū Naṣr Aḥmad ibn Marwān, the third and most important prince of the Marwānid dynasty of Diyarbakr, who succeeded his brother to the provincial sovereignty in 402/1011, and died in 463/1061’ (Contadini, World of Beasts , 40). For various preserved versions of this treatise, see Contadini, ‘The Ibn Bakhtīshūʿ Bestiary Tradition’ and Savage-Smith, ncam -1 , entry 230. For a Spanish translation, see Bravo-Villasante, Utilidades de los animales . The title is reminiscent of Galen’s famous De usu partium . 8.7. Khaṣīb 1 Khaṣīb was a Christian physician who was born and lived all his life in Basra. He was highly skilled in the art of medicine and was a peerless practitioner of that art. We read in an account by Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī 2 that the poet al-Ḥakam ibn Muḥammad ibn Qanbar al-Māzinī 3 once fell ill in Basra. When Khaṣīb was brought to his bedside, he recited the following lines about the physician: 4 I said to my people when they brought Khaṣīb to me: ‘Khaṣīb, by God, is not the right doctor for what’s wrong with me. My illness is known only by someone who suffers from the same thing as I.’ Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī also relates the following story: 5 Khaṣīb the physician was a Christian of admirable character. He administered a medicinal draught to Muḥammad ibn Abī l-ʿAbbās al-Saffāḥ 6 while he was in Basra, and it made the caliph ill. He was taken to Baghdad, where he died early in the year 150/767. 7 Khaṣīb was suspected of having caused his death, and accordingly was arrested and thrown into prison, where he remained until he died. When he became ill, he examined his own urine (for he was a learned physician), and declared, ‘According to Galen, anyone suffering from this ailment is doomed once his urine has become like this.’ ‘Galen may have been mistaken,’ said his friends. ‘Never have I hoped for that to be the case so ardently as now,’ he replied. But evidently Galen had not been mistaken, for Khaṣīb died of his illness. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Khaṣīb, see Sezgin, gas iii , 210. This biography is included in Versions 2 and 3 of the book, but is missing from Version 1. The edition is based on mss A, Ga, P, R, and S. 2 Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī, a 2nd/8th cent. traditionist and philologist of the Basra school; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Sallām al-D̲ j̲umaḥī’ (Ch. Pellat). 3 A poet of Basra, a contemporary of the subject of this biography. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥakam b. Muḥammad b. Ḳanbar’ (Ch. Pellat). 4 Metre: ramal . See al-Iṣfahānī, Aghānī , xiv:168; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xiii:322. 5 It is possible that iau has taken this story from the K. al-Aghānī , where al-Jumaḥī is quoted (it is not to be found in the extant text of al-Jumaḥī’s Ṭabaqāt fuḥūl al-shuʿarāʾ ). 6 The first Abbasid caliph (r. 132–136/749–754). See ei 2 art. ‘Abu ‘l-ʿAbbās al-Saffāḥ’ (S. Moscati). 7 Al-Saffāḥ in fact died 136/754. The date however is not in al-Aghānī . 8.8. ʿĪsā, known as Abū Quraysh 1 [8.8.1] The following account is taken from The Practical Ethics of the Physician by Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 2 who relates it on the authority of ʿĪsā ibn Māssah. 3 I have been informed by Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh 4 that Abū Quraysh was an apothecary whose place of business was near the gate of the caliph’s palace. He was an honest, pious man. Al-Khayzurān, the slave-girl of the caliph al-Mahdī, 5 had sent one of her maids to take a phial of her urine to the physician. Upon leaving the palace, the maid showed the phial to Abū Quraysh, and he pronounced the urine to be that of a pregnant woman who was carrying a boy. The maid ran back to her mistress with this good news, and al-Khayzurān ordered her to return and obtain further information. When she did so, Abū Quraysh said to her, ‘I told you the truth, but it is good news, and you owe me something for it.’ ‘How much?’ enquired the maid. ‘A bowl of sweet pudding and a fine robe,’ he replied. ‘If this is true,’ the maid said, ‘you have just earned the best and finest of the goods that this world has to offer,’ and off she went. Forty days later, al-Khayzurān realized that she was indeed pregnant. She had a purse of 10,000 dirhams sent to Abū Quraysh, but said nothing to al-Mahdī. In due course she gave birth to Mūsā, Hārūn al-Rashīd’s elder brother, 6 and only then did she tell the caliph, ‘A physician at the gate of the palace told me nine months ago that this would come to pass.’ When Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl 7 heard of the matter, he scoffed: ‘Lies,’ he said, ‘trickery.’ This infuriated al-Khayzurān, and she had a hundred trays of pudding, along with a hundred suits of clothing and a horse, ready saddled and bridled, sent to Abū Quraysh. It was not long before al-Khayzurān became pregnant again, this time with Mūsā’s brother, Hārūn al-Rashīd. ‘What about putting this physician to the test yourself?’ said Jūrjis to the caliph, so al-Mahdī had a phial of urine sent to Abū Quraysh, who examined it and said, ‘This is the urine of the lady 8 Umm Hārūn, and she is pregnant again, with another boy.’ When this was reported to the caliph, he made a note of the date. In due course, al-Khayzurān gave birth to Hārūn, whereupon al-Mahdī sent for Abū Quraysh, had him brought into his presence, spoke with him personally, and inundated him with robes of honour and bags of dinars and dirhams piled up higher than his head. The caliph allowed Hārūn and Mūsā to sit on the physician’s knees and addressed him familiarly as ‘Abū Quraysh,’ which means ‘father of the Arabs’, 9 and said to Jūrjis, ‘This is something that I have put to the test myself, personally.’ Thus it happened that Abū Quraysh came to be equal in rank to Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl, and even above him. In due course, al-Mahdī died and was succeeded by Hārūn al-Rashīd. Jūrjis then died in his turn, and his son became subordinate to Abū Quraysh in al-Rashīd’s service. 10 At his death, Abū Quraysh left 22,000 dinars and ample possessions. [8.8.2] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm 11 says, I was told by al-ʿAbbās ibn ʿAlī ibn al-Mahdī 12 that Hārūn al-Rashīd had a congregational mosque built in the garden of Mūsā al-Hādī and ordered his brothers and the members of his household to attend there every Friday while he led the prayers. ‘My father, ʿAlī ibn al-Mahdī’ (his account runs) ‘was at that mosque one very hot day. After the prayers were over, he went home to his own house in Sūq Yaḥyā, 13 but the hot weather had given him such a terrible headache that he could hardly see. He summoned every physician in Baghdad. The last of them to arrive was ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh, and by then the others, having despaired of stopping the headache, had withdrawn to consult together. “By the time that lot have reached a consensus, the man will have gone blind,” said he, and forthwith he called for some oil of violets, rose water, wine vinegar and snow. He poured two dirhams’ weight of the oil into a bowl, poured some of the vinegar and some of the rose water over it, and crumbled some of the snow into it, and then tilted and swirled the bowl until all its contents were mixed together. Next, he ordered the servants to place a handful of the mixture in the centre of ʿAlī ibn al-Mahdī’s forehead, to wait until the skin had absorbed it, and then to repeat the procedure. After this had been done three or four times, the headache had subsided and my father was better.’ [8.8.3] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm also says: I have been informed by Shiklah, 14 the mother of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī, that while she was with al-Mahdī in his camp at al-Rabadhah, 15 on the route to Mecca, he called out to her in a voice that seemed altered and sounded unfamiliar to her. She went to him, and found him lying supine. He told her to sit down, and when she did so, he sprang up and embraced her in friendly fashion, as though she had been an acquaintance whom he had met. Then, clutching her tightly, he went into a trance. The bystanders attempted to unclasp his arms from her neck, but to no avail. Physicians were summoned, and their unanimous verdict was that he was suffering from an attack of paralysis. 16 ‘Al-Mahdī, the son of al-Manṣūr ibn Muḥammad ibn ʿAlī ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-ʿAbbās, suffer an attack of paralysis?’ said ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh, ‘never! Neither these men nor any of their line will ever be stricken by paralysis, unless they sow their seed in Roman or Slav concubines or the like. In that case their descendants from those concubines might be liable to attacks of paralysis, but not otherwise.’ He called for a cupper and had al-Mahdī bled, and by God! no sooner had the first measure of blood been drawn than the caliph drew back his arms; at the second, he began to speak, and he had recovered his senses before the cupper had completed his work. He sent for Umm Asmāʾ and impregnated her then and there with his daughter Asmāʾ. [8.8.4] Yūsuf also says, When Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī was very poorly with the illness from which he ultimately died, his jaw became slack and his tongue thick within his mouth, with the result that he had difficulty speaking. When he did speak, persons hearing him had the impression that he was paralysed. He sent for me at the time of the afternoon prayer on Tuesday, the sixth day of Ramadan of the year 224 [22 July 839], and said to me, ‘Do you not find it extraordinary that I should have been stricken with this disorder, which has not affected any of my father’s offspring apart from Ismāʿīl ibn Mūsā the Commander of the Faithful and poor Muḥammad ibn Ṣāliḥ, and in Muḥammad’s case it was only because both his mother and his father’s mother were Roman women. Ismāʿīl’s mother was Roman too. But my mother was no Roman woman, so how is it, in your opinion, that I have come down with it?’ At this, I realized that he had remembered his mother telling him what ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh had said about al-Mahdī and his offspring, that none of them would be affected by paralysis unless they should sow their seed in Roman women, and was hoping that in his particular case the paralysis would not prove fatal. Accordingly, I said to him, ‘I cannot imagine why you should think such a malady would strike you, for your mother, she who gave birth to you, was a Dunbāwandī woman, and Dunbāwand 17 is colder than any part of the land of the Romans.’ Evidently he believed me and took comfort from my words, for he appeared to be content with what I had said. He died at daybreak on Friday, the ninth day of Ramadan [25 July 839]. [8.8.5] Continuing Yūsuf’s account: I have heard from Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī that ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar ibn al-Manṣūr 18 was so obese that he appeared to be at risk of death from the very weight of his flesh. Hārūn al-Rashīd was very concerned at this; he became so distressed that he could not enjoy the pleasures of food and drink. He ordered his physicians to treat ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar, but all of them denied any knowledge of a means that would serve, thereby exacerbating Hārūn al-Rashīd’s anxiety. But ʿĪsā, known as Abū Quraysh, went to see al-Rashīd in private and said to him: O Commander of the Faithful, your brother ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar is endowed with a solid stomach and a body that readily absorbs nourishment. Nothing bad ever happens to him; whatever he wishes for comes true beyond his dreams. He has never been afflicted with the death of a loved one, financial catastrophe, or injustice at the hands of jacks-in-office; he has never been treated harshly. When men’s natures and circumstances are not perturbed, they may experience now illness, now health, now sadness, now joy; they may dream of dreadful things or pleasant things, they may feel horror on some occasions and happiness on others. No man is safe from destruction if his flesh increases until his bones are too weak to support it, his breathing is impeded, and the powers of his brain and liver are annihilated, and where this is the case, the life is destroyed. As regards your brother, unless you show some sternness toward him, change your behaviour somewhat, perhaps distress him by confiscating some of his money or take some of his women away from him, why, his obesity may increase until it kills him. If you want to keep him alive, I urge you to treat him in that way, for otherwise you soon may not have a brother. ‘I know,’ replied Hārūn al-Rashīd, ‘you have told me before, but I really cannot alter the way I treat him or deliberately set out to worry him in some way. If you know of some means of dealing with his case, please proceed with it. As soon as I see that he has lost weight, you shall have ten thousand dinars from me, and I will see to it that you receive the same amount from him.’ ‘Well,’ said Abū Quraysh, ‘I do have an idea, but I am afraid that it may rouse ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar to a murderous rage and I will be killed then and there. Therefore, O Commander of the Faithful, will you send a sturdy servant with me, accompanied by a number of men who will protect me from him, in case he orders me killed.’ Hārūn al-Rashīd gave the necessary orders, and Abū Quraysh went to see ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar. After taking his pulse, he informed the fat man that he would have to take his pulse for three days before he would be able to suggest any treatment. At this, ʿĪsā told him to go away and come back later. Abū Quraysh complied, returning on the second and third days. Having completed the task of taking ʿĪsā’s pulse, the physician said to him, ‘This is most fortunate, a recommendation that comes neither too soon nor too late, and I consider that the emir would do well to observe it. If nothing untoward happens within the next forty days, I shall administer a treatment that will have you cured of your illness within a mere three days, and you will in better health than before.’ The physician rose from his seat, having implanted such fear in ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar’s heart that he was unable to eat or sleep, and before forty days had passed, his girth had shrunk by some five bashīzajāt . 19 During that time, Abū Quraysh said nothing to Hārūn al-Rashīd, for fear he might inform his cousin of the physician’s design to implant fear in his heart and thereby bring the plan to naught. On the eve of the fortieth day, however, he told the caliph that he was quite sure that ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar had lost weight, and suggested that he should invite him to the palace, or else ride over to call on him. Accordingly, al-Rashīd mounted his horse and rode to his cousin’s house, where he found ʿĪsā with the physician. As soon as the caliph entered, ‘Īsā said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, give me leave to kill this infidel, for he has killed me – look!’ and he wrapped his waistband around himself. ‘My enemy here, O Commander of the Faithful, has shrunk my waist by five bashīzajāt from sheer terror.’ At this, Hārūn al-Rashīd prostrated himself and thanked God, and then he said to ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar: My brother, I can continue to have the pleasure of your company thanks to Abū ʿĪsā here (for al-Rashīd frequently referred to the physician as Abū ʿĪsā), after God, for your life has been restored to you. What a stratagem he used on you! I have ordered that he is to receive a purse of ten thousand dinars, and you must do the same. ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar complied, and the physician took the money home with him. Nor did ʿĪsā ibn Jaʿfar ever become fat again as long as he lived. [8.8.6] Another account from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: I have heard from Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī that once when he was in Raqqa with Hārūn al-Rashīd, he fell gravely ill. The caliph gave orders that he should be carried down 20 to the home of his mother in Baghdad. Bukhtīshūʿ the grandfather of Bukhtīshūʿ, 21 who was chief physician at that time, remained at his bedside constantly and supervised his treatment. In due course, Hārūn al-Rashīd went back to Baghdad, bringing Abū Quraysh with him. Ibrāhīm told me that Abū Quraysh had come to visit him, and had observed that the illness had wasted him badly, causing his flesh to melt away and reducing him to despair; in particular, he was running a high fever. In Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī’s own words: ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh said to me, ‘By al-Mahdī! beginning tomorrow, I propose to administer a treatment that will have you well again before I have left your house.’ He went out of the sickroom, summoned the majordomo and said to him, ‘I want to you find the three fattest Kashkarī 22 chickens in all Baghdad, slaughter them at once, and hang them up with their feathers still on them until I tell you what to do with them first thing tomorrow morning.’ Early the next day, he came to see me, bearing three zamshī 23 melons which he had kept chilled on snow all night long. He called for a knife and cut a slice from one of them and gave it to me, saying ‘Eat this.’ I told him that Bukhtīshūʿ had forbidden me to so much as smell melons, but he retorted, ‘And that is why you have remained ill for so long. Eat it, it won’t hurt you!’ So I ate it, and found it delicious. He told me to go on eating, and so I did, until I had finished two of the melons. Then I felt that I could eat no more, but he cut a slice from the third melon and said, ‘What you have eaten so far has been for enjoyment, but this slice is therapeutic.’ I choked it down somehow, and then he cut yet another slice, at the same time making signs to the attendants that they should bring a basin, and said to me, ‘Eat this one as well.’ I had eaten less than a third of it when my gorge rose and I was overcome with a fit of vomiting, regurgitating not only the melon that I had eaten, but great quantities of yellow bile as well. I then fainted. Subsequently, I broke out in a heavy sweat and fell asleep until after the time of the noon prayer. When I awoke, I was so hungry that I was almost out of my mind, although previously I had had not the slightest desire for food. I shouted for something to eat, and the three chickens were brought to me; the meat had been prepared as a vinegar stew, and the cooks had done it to a turn. I ate my fill, and then slept again until the time of the afternoon prayer had passed. When I awoke, I rose from my bed. My illness had vanished, I had recovered. Nor has that illness returned since that time. Footnotes 1 This physician is not mentioned by either Sezgin or Ullmann. The biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 See Ch. 8.3.8 . His biography is given at Ch. 10.57 . Al-Ruhāwī gives the name as Isrāʾīl al-Kabīr al-maʿrūf bi-Abī Quraysh; see Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 151 and (facs.) 166–167. 3 A physician whose biography will be found in Ch. 8.28 . 4 Another physician whose biography will be found later in Ch. 8.26 . 5 Actually his wife; she had once been a slave-girl, but had achieved upward mobility. See ei 2 art. ‘al-K̲h̲ayzurān bint ʿAṭāʾ al-D̲ j̲uras̲h̲iyyah’ (Ed.). Al-Mahdī was the third Abbasid caliph (r. 158–169/775–785). 6 And subsequently the caliph al-Hādī (r. 169–170/785–786). 7 Court physician. He had been personal physician to the caliph al-Manṣūr and continued to hold that post under al-Mahdī. His biography is in Ch. 8.1 above. 8 Literally, ‘my daughter’. 9 Technically, ‘Abū Quraysh’ means ‘Father of Quraysh’, an important tribe as Muḥammad’s own. 10 However, Hārūn al-Rashīd was under no illusions about Abū Quraysh’s competence. In the biography of Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis, in Ch. 8.2 above, we read: In the year 174, when Hārūn al-Rashīd was afflicted with a migraine, he complained to Yaḥyā ibn Khālid, ‘These physicians are no good at all.’ The vizier replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, Abū Quraysh served both your parents as physician.’ ‘I show him respect because of his long and faithful service,’ said the caliph, ‘but he doesn’t know much about medicine. I want you to find me someone who does.’ 11 For Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm ibn al-Dāyah, see Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 12 Apparently a grandson of the caliph al-Mahdī and nephew of Hārūn al-Rashīd, otherwise unidentified. 13 A district on the eastern side of Baghdad; the name is said to commemorate the vizier Yaḥyā ibn Khālid al-Barmakī. 14 A concubine and umm walad of the caliph al-Mahdī. Ibrāhīm was a poet and musician who survived a brief term as caliph in 202–203/817–819. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. Al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). 15 An important way station on the main pilgrimage route between Kufa and Mecca, where food and drinking water were available for pilgrims See ei 2 art. ‘al-Rabad̲h̲a’ (S. ʿA. ʿA. al-Rashid). 16 Fālij , a form of partial paralysis. 17 A mountain in northern Persia; Dunbāwand appears to be the oldest form of the name. See ei 2 art. ‘Damāwand’ (M. Streck). 18 First cousin to Hārūn al-Rashīd; the term ‘brother’ used below is used loosely as often. 19 The term bashīzajāt is puzzling. The ending - ajāt shows that it is from Persian. According to Steingass ( Persian-English dictionary ), a pishēza is something small: ‘the scale of a fish; a small, thin piece of money; the skirt of a tent; a thin layer of metal between the handle and the blade of a knife’. Perhaps here the distance between the perforations of his belt? 20 Raqqa is on the Euphrates, in present-day Syria, far to the northwest of Baghdad on the Tigris, so the patient had to travel a long way downstream and then some distance overland to reach his mother’s place. 21 I.e. the celebrated physician Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, who is the subject of Ch. 8.4 above. 22 An ancient town on the west bank of the Tigris, just opposite the town of Wāsiṭ, founded by the Umayyad governor al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf. See ei 2 art. ‘Kaskar’ (Streck & Lassner). 23 The origin of this term is uncertain. An alternative reading is ramshī . 8.9. Ibn al-Lajlāj 1 The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 2 I have been informed by Ismāʿīl ibn Abī Sahl ibn Nawbakht 3 that he had heard from his father, Abū Sahl, that while the caliph al-Manṣūr was on the pilgrimage in the course of which he died, he, Abū Sahl, had become very friendly with the caliph’s physician, Ibn al-Lajlāj. While the caliph slept, they would drink together. One day, when Ibn al-Lajlāj had drunk a good deal of date-wine and was feeling the effects of it, he asked Abū Sahl how much longer, in his opinion, al-Manṣūr was likely to live. In Ismāʿīl’s own words: My father was so upset at the question that he gave up drinking date-wine and resolved not to associate with the physician any more. He kept this resolution for three days, but subsequently they became reconciled, and as they sat drinking date-wine together again as before, Ibn al-Lajlāj said to Abū Sahl, ‘I asked you what you thought about something, but you refused to answer and avoided my company. Listen now while I return good for evil. Al-Manṣūr is a man whose temperament is warm, and his body is drying out as he grows older. He had his head shaved in al-Ḥīrah, 4 and had musk-and-ambergris perfume rubbed on his head in place of the hair that had been shaved off. Now here we are in the Ḥijāz, and he continues to apply the perfume, paying no attention to me when I advise him to stop doing it. I estimate that before we have got as far as Fayd, 5 his brain will have become so dry that neither I nor any other physician will be able to restore its moisture. He will have fallen ill before we reach Fayd, if indeed he reaches Fayd at all, and he will be dead before we reach Mecca, if indeed he ever does reach Mecca.’ Ismāʿīl’s account continues, ‘And, by God,’ my father said to me, ‘by the time we reached Fayd, al-Manṣūr had fallen ill, and before we got to Mecca he had died; he was buried at Biʾr Maymūn.’ 6 Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm’s account continues as follows: Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī 7 appreciated this story when I related it to him. Did I, he asked me, know about Abū Sahl ibn Nawbakht’s name? No, I said, I did not. ‘It is even more singular that the story that you have just told me about his son,’ he said, ‘and you heard it here first! I heard it from Abū Sahl ibn Nawbakht himself’: When my father was beginning to fail and felt he could not continue in al-Manṣūr’s service, he said, the caliph told him to send for his son to serve in his stead. He ushered me into the presence of al-Manṣūr, and when I was standing before the caliph, he said to me, ‘Tell the Commander of the Faithful your name,’ so I dutifully said it, Kharkhashā Damāh Ṭīmādhāh Mādhariyād Khusraw Abhamshādh. ‘Was all that your name?’ said the caliph. ‘Yes, Sire,’ I replied. Al-Manṣūr smiled, and then he said, ‘Your father has not been of much use! I propose to offer you a choice between two alternatives.’ ‘What are they, Sire?’ I enquired. ‘Either I take that rigmarole you just uttered and shorten it to “Ṭīmādh,”’ he said, ‘or else I call you by a familiar name, let us say “Abū Sahl”, instead of using your real name.’ Abū Sahl told me that he liked the idea of being known by that name, so he adopted it and ceased to use his original name. I told this story to his son, Ismāʿīl ibn Abī Sahl. ‘Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī was quite right,’ he said, ‘I have heard that very anecdote from my father.’ Footnotes 1 For biographical information about Ibn al-Lajlāj, see Sezgin, gas iii , 280; Ullmann, Medizin , 112. The biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 3 The Nawbakht family, of Persian origin, was prominent in literary, political and theological circles in Baghdad during the first two centuries of the Abbasid dynasty. See ei 2 art. ‘Nawbak̲h̲t’ (L. Massignon). 4 Located southeast of modern Najaf, in Iraq. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥīra’ (A.F.L. Beeston & I. Shahid). 5 A town in the Ḥijāz, located at approximately the halfway point on the pilgrimage route between Iraq and Mecca. See ei 2 art. ‘Fayd’ (C.E. Bosworth). 6 A well in or near Mecca; its exact location has not been determined. 7 A son of the caliph al-Mahdī, a poet and musician who survived a brief term as caliph in 202–203/817–819. See ei 2 , art, ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm ibn al-Dāyah was his personal secretary. 8.10. ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī 1 [8.10.1] ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī was a keen-witted and eloquent man, despite a peculiar way of speaking that he owed to his place of origin, for he was a native of one of the villages of the Kaskar district in the Sawād . The caliph al-Hadī thought highly of him. [8.10.2] The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 2 I have heard at first hand from al-Ṭayfūrī that he served as physician to Ṭayfūr, 3 who liked to assert that he was the brother of al-Khayzurān, 4 but it was widely suspected that he was really her emancipated slave. 5 ‘When al-Manṣūr sent al-Mahdī to Rayy to campaign against Sunqār,’ 6 al-Ṭayfūrī’s account ran: Al-Mahdī had impregnated al-Khayzurān (with Mūsā, as it subsequently appeared). Ṭayfūr accompanied her to Rayy, she being as yet unaware that God had blessed her with child, and he took me along with him. ʿĪsā, known as Abū Quraysh, 7 was an apothecary with the army, and once al-Khayzurān realized that she had conceived, she handed a phial of her urine to an elderly retainer and told her to show it to all the physiciansinal-Mahdī’sarmyandallotherswhowerecompetentinthematter. The elderly retainer set off (we were in Hamadhān at the time), and as she went along she chanced to pass ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh’s tent. A number of slave-boys belonging to men of the army were standing there with phials of urine which they were showing to ʿĪsā, and she decided that she had better not go any further until he had seen the urine she was carrying. Upon scrutinizing it, he said to her, ‘This urine is that of a pregnant woman, and the child she is carrying is a boy.’ Al-Khayzurān’s serving-woman ran back to her mistress to relay this news. Upon hearing it, al-Khayzurān prostrated herself and gave thanks to God, and then manumitted a number of slaves; next, she went to al-Mahdī and told him what her retainer had said. The caliph was more delighted at the news than al-Khayzurān herself; he ordered ʿĪsā brought in and questioned him personally about the serving-woman’s message. When the apothecary confirmed that he had made no mistake, both caliph and al-Khayzurān rewarded him lavishly, and al-Mahdī ordered him to leave his tent and apothecary’s paraphernalia and enter his own service. [8.10.3] To continue al-Ṭayfūrī’s account: Ṭayfūr, thinking to do me a favour, sent a message to al-Khayzurān. ‘My personal physician,’ it ran, ‘is skilled in the art of medicine. I suggest you send a sample of urine to him and have him look at it.’ Al-Khayzurān fell in with this suggestion, sending me a phial of her urine the following day. Ṭayfūr urged me to give the same diagnosis that ʿĪsā had given, but I told him that while the urine did indicate a pregnancy, I could not tell whether the child was male or female. He pressed me hard, but I would not agree, having no wish to acquire a reputation as a charlatan. Finally he reported my conclusion to al-Khayzurān, who awarded me a purse of one thousand dirhams and ordered me to join her retinue. The baby, al-Hādī, was born after she had reached Rayy. Al-Mahdī, for his part, had had ʿĪsā Abū Quraysh put to the test in every conceivable way, and had ascertained that he was impotent. This was good news for the caliph, and thereafter the apothecary stood higher in his favour than all his eunuchs. That was one reason why I myself obtained advancement, for I became the attendant of Mūsā, 8 Commander of the Faithful, and was styled his physician during the time of his nursing and while he was being weaned. We remained in Rayy, and in due course al-Khayzurān gave birth again, this time to Hārūn al-Rashīd. Evidently his birth was al-Hādī’s misfortune, for the younger son now enjoyed all, or nearly all, his parents’ attention. It was a misfortune for me as well, as it cost me dearly in prestige and income, until Mūsā was older and could see how matters stood. That turn of events marked an improvement in my own fortunes, for he thought well of me and treated me with greater consideration than his mother, al-Khayzurān, had done. Thanks to God, al-Mahdī was victorious: Sunqār and the Khorasanian princes Shahriyār the father of Mihrawayh and Khālid, Buskhunnar the father of al-Ḥārith ibn Buskhunnar, and al-Rabʿīn, all met their deaths, while some of their offspring were taken prisoner. Among those so taken were Mihrawayh, Khālid, a kinswoman of theirs named Shāhak, who had sat at Shahriyār’s table and was the mother of al-Sindī ibn Shāhak, 9 and al-Ḥārith ibn Buskhunnar. All of these were emancipated slaves ( mawālī ) and natives of Rayy. When al-Hādī reached adulthood and al-Mahdī became caliph, my situation improved and I gained in prestige, for I became the personal physician of the heir apparent. Then al-Hādī acquired Amat al-ʿAzīz, 10 who was dearer to him than the skin of his own brow. She bore him Jaʿfar, ʿAbd Allāh, Ismāʿīl, Isḥāq, ʿĪsā, known as al-Jurjānī, Mūsā the blind, Umm ʿĪsā, subsequently the wife of the caliph al-Maʾmūn, and Umm Muḥammad and ʿUbayd Allāh, his two offspring. Mūsā al-Hādī allowed me to treat all his children as though they were my own, and he told Amat al-ʿAzīz that he was blessed, thanks to me. As a result, she treated me with greater generosity than I could have hoped for from al-Hādī himself. As caliph, al-Hādī determined to have his son, Jaʿfar ibn Mūsā, receive the oath of allegiance as his successor. 11 He summoned me on the day before the ceremony, bestowed a robe of honour on me, provided one of his own horses, ready saddled and bridled, for me to ride, and ordered a purse of 100,000 dirhams sent to my house. ‘Do not leave the palace,’ he said to me, ‘but spend the rest of today, tonight, and the greater part of tomorrow here, until I have seen your son Jaʿfar receive the oath of allegiance. You are the most honourable of all mankind, having seen to the upbringing of a caliph’s son who became heir apparent, and that heir apparent then became caliph in the house of his son until the latter became heir apparent in his turn.’ Word of the investiture reached Amat al-ʿAzīz, and she responded in much the same way as al-Hādī, loading me with presents and having great quantities of clothing sent to my house; however, she did not present me with a horse. I remained in the palace in ʿĪsābādh 12 until sunrise on the day when I received the presents I have just mentioned. Then al-Hādī held a ceremonial session to which he had summoned all the Banū Hāshim, 13 and they all took the oath of allegiance to Jaʿfar, swearing to uphold him and proclaim Hārūn al-Rashīd replaced as heir apparent. Then it was the turn of the Zāʾidah clan, with Yazīd ibn Mazyad being the first to proclaim al-Rashīd deposed and subsequently to swear fealty to Jaʿfar. Next came Sharāḥīl ibn Maʿn ibn Zāʾidah 14 and those of his house, followed by Saʿīd ibn Salm ibn Qutaybah ibn Muslim. After these came the clan of Mālik, with ʿAbd Allāh being the first to take the oath, and then the caliph’s entourage and all the Arab sheikhs. Last of all were the captains, most of whom had taken the oath before midday. There was one exception, however. Harthamah ibn Aʿyan, 15 surnamed ‘the unfortunate’, had obtained command of a troop of 500 men under the caliph al-Manṣūr but had not been promoted. Even after most of his comrades had died, he was never appointed to replace any of them. Al-Hādī had had him summoned to attend the ceremony, and when his turn came, he was ordered to take the oath. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ he said, ‘to whom am I to swear fealty?’ ‘Swear to Jaʿfar, son of the Commander of the Faithful,’ replied al-Hādī. ‘My right hand is occupied with a declaration of fealty to the Commander of the Faithful,’ said Harthamah, ‘while my left is occupied with a declaration of fealty to Hārūn. Which hand am I to use to make my declaration?’ ‘You will declare Hārūn deposed and swear fealty to Jaʿfar,’ retorted the caliph, but Harthamah said: O Commander of the Faithful, I am a man who is greatly in need of your advice and that of the imams of your line, who are the Prophet’s family. By God, even if I thought you would have me burned alive for speaking the truth to you, that would not prevent me from doing so. This declaration of fealty, O Commander of the Faithful, is nothing more nor less than an oath. I have sworn fealty to Hārūn in the same words that you are now asking me to utter to swear fealty to Jaʿfar. If I declare Hārūn deposed today, perhaps I will declare Jaʿfar deposed tomorrow, and so with all those who had sworn fealty to Hārūn in that way and have now betrayed him. Al-Ṭayfūrī’s account continues: Mūsā became enraged at these words, and shouted, ‘Off with his head!’ A mob of mawālī and military men surged toward Harthamah, brandishing sticks and iron rods, but al-Hādī waved them back and again ordered Harthamah to take the oath of fealty. At this, Harthamah replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I can only repeat what I have already said.’ Al-Hādī said angrily, ‘Be off with you, God curse you! May neither you nor your friends swear an oath of fealty for a thousand years.’ He ordered him escorted out of the ʿĪsābādh palace and stripped of his command. ‘Let him go wherever he wishes,’ said the caliph, ‘and may God not go with him or protect him.’ He then remained silent for half an hour or so, ordering none of the assembly either to do or not to do anything, then raised his head and said to his servant, Yandūn, ‘Catch up with the filthy swine!’ ‘Yes, Sire,’ was the reply, ‘and once I have caught up with him, what am I to do with him?’ ‘Bring him back to the Commander of the Faithful,’ said the caliph. Al-Ṭayfūrī’s account continues: Yandūn caught up with Harthamah near the place known as Bāb al-Naqb, midway between the Khorasan Gate and the Baradān Gate; he had been on his way to his home on the al-Mahdī Canal. 16 The servant brought him back to the palace, and as soon as he entered, al-Hādī said to him: You peasant! 17 Here the family of the Commander of the Faithful have pledged their fealty, including his grandfather’s paternal uncle, his father’s paternal uncle, and his other paternal uncles, his brothers, and all the rest of his family, the most eminent Arab sheikhs have done the same, as have the mawālī and the captains, and only you refuse to take the oath? Harthamah replied, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, surely you have no need of a peasant’s oath when all the important people you have mentioned have sworn fealty. Yet the matter is as I have told you before: one cannot proclaim Hārūn deposed today, yet remain loyal to Jaʿfar tomorrow.’ Al-Ṭayfūrī’s account continues as follows: Al-Hādī turned to his assembled throng and said, ‘You have disgraced yourselves. By God, Harthamah has spoken the truth and kept his faith, whereas you have been false to yours.’ So saying, the caliph ordered that Harthamah was to receive a purse of fifty thousand dirhams, and that the district where Yandūn had taken him was to be granted to him in fee, 18 and to this day that district is known as Harthamah’s Camp. The people dispersed in a great state, such as might be felt by any man of importance who had been the cause of embarrassment to the caliph, compounded by apprehension about what they might expect if anything should befall al-Hādī, after they had so hastily proclaimed Hārūn al-Rashīd deposed. The faction that had supported Jaʿfar had been hoping that their man would become caliph, with wealth for themselves once he had been installed in office, and now it was beginning to look as though Jaʿfar himself might be killed and that his followers would be fortunate to escape death, persecution and poverty. Mūsā al-Hādī went to join Amat al-ʿAzīz, who said to him, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, surely no one can ever have seen what we have just seen and heard what we have just heard. This morning we had high hopes for that youth, and now, this evening, we have good reason to fear for his life.’ ‘As you say,’ replied the caliph, ‘but I have one thing to add to that.’ ‘And what is it, O Commander of the Faithful?’ she asked. ‘When I ordered Harthamah brought back,’ he said, ‘I fully intended to have him executed. But when he was standing there, suddenly there was something that prevented me from proceeding: I found myself under a compulsion to give him a present and grant him some land. In addition, I intend to promote him in rank and speak favourably of him.’ Amat al-ʿAzīz thereupon burst into tears. ‘May God grant you joy!’ said al-Hādī, but she, together with all her entourage, imagined that he was intending to have Hārūn al-Rashīd assassinated by means of poison. However, he was not allowed the necessary time, for al-Hādī died only a few nights later. Hārūn al-Rashīd succeeded to the caliphate and by God he treated Jaʿfar’s mother most generously, while Jaʿfar himself received more benefits than ever, including marriage to Hārūn al-Rashīd’s own daughter, Umm Muḥammad. [8.10.4] The following account is also taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, who says he had it from Abū Muslim, 19 who in turn had had it from Ḥumayd al-Ṭāʾī, known as al-Ṭūsī. 20 Ḥumayd was not really from Ṭūs; 21 his district as recorded in the dīwān was Merv. 22 Similarly, the district of Ṭāhir, 23 the ruler of Būshanj, 24 was actually Merv. Mūsā ibn Abī l-ʿAbbās al-Shāshī, 25 for his part, was not from the district of al-Shāsh; 26 his district was officially Herat, 27 while Muḥammad ibn Abī l-Faḍl al-Ṭūsī was actually registered in the district of Nisā, 28 despite his cognomen of al-Ṭūsī. These men, and various officials, carried names derived from places other than their own native places, in some cases because they lived and had estates there, and in others because they governed some particular town for a substantial length of time and thus came to be known by its name. Abū Muslim’s account, then, runs as follows: Abū Ghānim (that is, his own father) once fell gravely ill, and the physician al-Ṭayfūrī took charge of the case. Now, Abū Ghānim was an excessively hot-blooded man, and would often hurt his friends’ feelings by making offensive remarks to them. Once, in Qubādir Zubayrūn, 29 when I was a young man, I was in attendance upon Abū Ghānim, when al-Ṭayfūrī, the physician, came in, took his pulse, and examined his urine. He then said something to his patient in an undertone, so that I did not understand his words, but Abū Ghānim snarled, ‘Liar! Sucker of your mother’s clitoris!’ 30 Al-Ṭayfūrī retorted, ‘May God make whichever of us is lying bite his mother’s such and such.’ Listening, I thought to myself, ‘By God, al-Ṭayfūrī must be insane.’ ‘Your mother was an infidel!’ shouted Abū Ghānim. ‘Miserable wretch! How dare you speak to me like that?’ ‘By God,’ replied al-Ṭayfūrī, ‘I never permitted even my lord and master, al-Hādī, to speak a disrespectful word to me, and if ever he did, I would give back as good as I had got. How, then, shall I allow you, who are merely a dog, to fling insults at me?’ Abū Muslim swore to me that he saw his father laughing and weeping at the same time, his features indicating in part amusement, in part sadness. Then Abū Ghānim said to the physician, ‘By God! Really, you answered back when al-Hādī, the Commander of the Faithful, spoke rudely to you?’ ‘I did indeed,’ replied al-Ṭayfūrī. ‘But why, in God’s name,’ Abū Ghānim cried, ‘did you speak so disparagingly of Ḥumayd and abuse him as you did when I insulted you?’ and he wept bitterly for al-Hādī. Yūsuf’s account continues: When I asked al-Ṭayfūrī about this story that I had heard from Abū Muslim, he burst into such a storm of weeping that I feared he might die then and there, so overcome with sorrow was he at the mention of Ḥumayd’s name. ‘By God,’ said he, ‘I have never known a finer man, or one with a more noble nature, one who was better company, or who had a keener sense of justice, than Ḥumayd, except for al-Hādī. Of course, he had an army under his command, and that governed his professional conduct, but once he was with his brothers, it was as though he were one of themselves, rather than as one regarded as being superior to them.’ Yūsuf’s account continues: Al-Ṭayfūrī told me that he was with Ḥumayd al-Ṭūsī in Qaṣr Ibn Hubayrah 31 in the days when our master 32 was capturing Baghdad and territory in its vicinity. A number of Arabs from Jabal Ṭayyiʾ 33 came to see him, headed by a man whom they had chosen as their leader and whom they had acknowledged as having pre-eminence and authority over them. Ḥumayd received them at a great gathering designed to show off the numbers of his troops, and he said to the leader, ‘What brings you here, my cousin?’ The leader replied, ‘I have come to provide you with reinforcements, since you are engaged in combat against one who claims that to which he is not entitled and which is not his.’ He was referring to our master. Ḥumayd replied, ‘I accept reinforcements only from those whom I know to be tough and stout of heart, and who can withstand such hard service as would be beyond the capacity of most men. I shall put you to the test. If you succeed, I shall accept you, but if you fail, you shall return to your tribe.’ ‘Try me as you will,’ said the Ṭāʾī leader, whereupon Ḥumayd brought out a heavy stick from under his prayer-carpet and said to the Ṭāʾī, ‘Hold out your arm.’ The man did so, and Ḥumayd lifted the stick up to his shoulder and brought it down, striking at the Ṭāʾī’s outstretched arm. At the last moment, however, the man drew his arm out of the way. ‘You evaded my stroke!’ said Ḥumayd angrily. The Ṭāʾī man muttered something placatory and invited Ḥumayd to repeat the trial. Again Ḥumayd told him to hold his arm out, again he did so, and again Ḥumayd brought the stick whistling down, and again the man drew his arm back at the last moment, so that the blow missed its target. At this, Ḥumayd had the man seized, taken from his assembly and thrown into prison. He then confiscated his riding animals and those of his companions and drove the men out of his camp, so off they trudged on foot, crestfallen and destitute. The account by al-Ṭayfūrī continues: I reproved him for doing this, but he laughed and said, ‘I have been known to allow you to laugh at me, poke fun at me and speak disparagingly of me when I have said, in your presence, something about medicine that you knew was wrong. But commanding armies is something you know nothing about, so you have nothing to say concerning a matter on which your opinion is different from mine.’ He then said to me, I am a man of Yemen, 34 while the Messenger of God, may God bless and keep him, was a man of Muḍar, 35 and it is the men of Muḍar who hold the caliphate. Just as I love my own people, so do the caliphs love their people. I may display some preference for my people on occasion, at the expense of someone who is closer to the men of Muḍar in terms of kinship, and, similarly, I have no doubt that they incline toward theirs, if the truth be told. I have many men of Nizār 36 with me, and it grieves them to know, as they do know, that I harbour a preference for my own people. Mark you, I have tried these men of Nizār and am well aware of their valour. For aught I know, the whole lot of my own people who have rallied to me may not be equal to a single Nizārī man. But I have sought to win the hearts of those whom I have with me, and at the same time I have endeavoured to ensure that when my people come seeking to join me, they are sent away in such a state that others will be warned off rather than encouraged. For when they go hence in discomfiture, I am not responsible for their keep, whereas if they were to go their ways as bearers of glad tidings, we should have such a flood of volunteers as we should be unable to provide for with all the resources at our disposal from the Sawād . ‘So I knew,’ al-Ṭayfūrī concludes, ‘that Ḥumayd was managing his enterprise well and had adopted a sound approach to the task he had undertaken.’ Footnotes 1 ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī is not mentioned either in Sezgin, gas iii or in Ullmann, Medizin . Ibn al-Qifṭī has an entry on him (Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 218). This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 3 It is unlikely that this Ṭayfūr is the father of the well-known literary man and historian, Abū l-Faḍl Aḥmad ibn Abī Ṭāhir Ṭayfūr. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Abī Ṭāhir Ṭayfūr’ (F. Rosenthal), since he was certainly not a manumitted slave; cf. Toorawa, Ibn Abī Ṭāhir Ṭayfūr , 72–73. 4 Wife of the caliph al-Mahdī and mother of Mūsā al-Hādī and Hārūn al-Rashīd. 5 Mawlā . The Ṭayfūr family was of Persian origin, whereas al-Khayzurān came originally from Yemen. The popular suspicion may thus have had some plausibility. 6 The caliph al-Manṣūr sent his son al-Mahdī to Rayy in 141/758–759 to take up the post of governor of Khorasan, which at that time was the scene of various campaigns against rebels, one of them presumably this Sunqār. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Mahdī’ (H. Kennedy). 7 See his biography in Ch. 8.8 . According to the account there given, this incident took place near the gates of the caliph’s palace in Baghdad, not out in Hamadhān. 8 I.e. the infant al-Hādī. 9 Probably a former slave from Sind who had risen to hold important offices; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Sindī’ (Ch. Pellat). His son Ibrāhīm was Prefect of Police in Baghdad under Hārūn al-Rashīd. 10 Amat al-ʿAzīz was a jāriyah of the vizier al-Rabīʿ, who gave her to al-Mahdī, who in turn passed her on to al-Hādī. After al-Hādī’s death, Hārūn al-Rashīd married her. See al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh , iii:597–618. 11 Hārūn al-Rashīd, al-Hādī’s brother, was the next Abbasid in the succession line. This anecdote gives a fictional account of al-Hādī’s attempt to annul the right of Hārūn and appoint his son Jaʿfar as heir apparent. 12 A palace and pleasure ground built by the caliph al-Mahdī on the eastern side of Baghdad. 13 The Abbasid extended family. 14 On Maʿn ibn Zāʾidah, see ei 2 art. ‘Maʿn b. Zāʾida’ (H. Kennedy). 15 Whom we have met previously in the biography of Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ in Ch. 8.3.16 above. 16 A description of the route of this canal will be found in Le Strange, Collected Works , 280. 17 Literally, ‘weaver’. Weaving was regarded as a low and undignified trade; see ei 2 art. ‘Ḥāʾik’ (A.J. Beg). 18 Iqṭāʿ . For a discussion of the meaning of this term, see ei 2 art. ‘Iḳṭāʿ’ (Cl. Cahen). 19 Abū Muslim is the son of Ḥumayd al-Ṭūsī, who is called Abū Ghānim in the following anecdote. 20 Abbasid general who was chiefly responsible for the victory of al-Maʾmūn over Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī in 203/819. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. SourdeI). 21 A town near the modern city of Mashhad, in Iran; see ei 2 art. ‘Ṭūs’ (V. Minorsky). Hārūn al-Rashīd died there; see the biography of Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ earlier in Ch. 8.3 . 22 The modern Mary, in Turkmenistan. In Arabic documents, the name is spelled mrw . See ei 2 art. ‘Marw al-S̲h̲āhid̲j̲ān’ (A.Y. Yakubovskii and C.E. Bosworth). 23 Founder of the Ṭāhirid dynasty of Khorasan; see ei 2 art. ‘Ṭāhirids’ (C.E. Bosworth). 24 Town in eastern Persia (see ei 2 art. ‘Būs̲h̲and̲j̲’ (W. Barthold & B. Spuler)). Būshanj _lay on the frontier between the Arabs and the not fully conquered east-Iranian mountain regions. The islamization of the area was largely completed under the rule of the Ṭāhirids, whose founder was a native of the place. 25 Unidentified. 26 Tashkent, in modern Uzbekistan. See ei 2 art. ‘Tas̲h̲kent’ (W. Barthold & C.E. Bosworth). 27 Approximately 400km due south of Merv, in modern Afghanistan. 28 A village near Naysābūr, known for its fertile soil and abundant water, agricultural lands and gardens. Mentioned in Yāqūt’s Mu‘jam al-buldān . Naysābūr is the modern Nishapur, in northeastern Iran. 29 Unidentified locality. Possibilities include Qanādir in Iṣfahān or Qānariz near Nīsābūr mentioned by Yāqūt. 30 Explicit expletives such as this are quite commonly used in pre-modern Arabic texts, where even caliphs regularly utter them. 31 A town in Iraq, midway between Baghdad and Kufa. 32 The reference is to al-Maʾmūn’s successful campaign against Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī in 203–204/819–820. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. SourdeI). 33 An upland region in northern Arabia containing, in particular, Mt. Ajaʾ and Mt. Salmā. 34 I.e., of South Arabian descent. Arab genealogists have traditionally divided the different stems of Arab tribes into two main groups, the Northern and Southern branches, respectively descendants of two mythological figures ʿAdnān and Qaḥṭān. The enmity between these two groups is a recurrent topos in Arabic literature and historiography, as this anecdote shows; on this classification of tribes see Webb, Imagining the Arabs , 205–224. 35 Of Northern Arabian descent. Muḍar was one of the ancestors of that tribal lineage. 36 Northern Arabs; Nizār is known to the genealogists as the father of Muḍar. 8.11. Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī 1 The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 2 In his own words: Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī once said to me: I was with al-Afshīn 3 in his camp during his campaign against Bābak. 4 He had decided to have a list of all the merchants in the camp drawn up, indicating the locations of their stalls and the trade of each of them. 5 The list was prepared and brought to al-Afshīn, who had it read out to him. When the reader came to the section on apothecaries, al-Afshīn said, ‘Zakariyyā, I consider that it is more important to have an accurate record of the apothecaries than of the other tradesmen mentioned earlier in the list. I want you to look into the practice of every one of them, to determine which of them are honest professionals, men of integrity, and which are charlatans.’ ‘May God preserve the emir,’ I replied, ‘there was an alchemist by the name of Yūsuf Laqwah who was an associate of the caliph al-Maʾmūn and frequently worked in his presence. One day, the caliph said to him, “This is nonsense, Yūsuf! There is nothing in alchemy.” “Indeed there is, O Commander of the Faithful,” Yūsuf replied, “but the art of alchemy is beset by a plague, and the name of that plague is ‘apothecaries’.” “Absurd!” said al-Maʾmūn, “whatever do you mean?” Yūsuf replied: O Commander of the Faithful, any apothecary, when asked for something or other, regardless of whether he actually has the item or not, will invariably say that he has it, and sell something to the client, saying, ‘Here you are, sir, this is what you asked for.’ If the Commander of the Faithful wishes to test the truth of this for himself, he might make up a fictitious name and send out a number of his servants to try to buy some of it from apothecaries. “I know just the name,” said al-Maʾmūn, “I shall send them out for some saqṭīthā – that is the name of an estate not far from the Baghdad.” He dispatched a number of emissaries with instructions to ask the city’s apothecaries for some saqṭīthā , and every one of those apothecaries said that he had some in stock, handed over something from his shop, and took the emissary’s money. The emissaries brought various things back to the caliph, in some cases a handful of seeds, in others, a fragment of stone, in still others a bit of fur. Al-Maʾmūn was so pleased with Yūsuf Laqwah’s frankness and honesty that he granted him some land on the canal known as the Nahr al-Kalbah. His descendants hold that land to this day, and live from the revenues that it yields. Now, if the emir should think fit, he might put these apothecaries to the test in the same way as al-Maʾmūn did.’ ‘At this, al-Afshīn had a volume of the registers of Ushrūshanah brought to him and selected approximately twenty names out of it. 6 He then sent men out to try to buy drugs having those names from the apothecaries in the camp. Some of them said they were not familiar with any such drugs, but others said they had them, took the emissary’s money and gave him something out of their stock. Al-Afshīn then had all the apothecaries brought before him, and when they were all assembled, he had licences issued to those who had said that they were not familiar with the names of the drugs his emissaries had asked for. Those apothecaries were allowed to remain in the camp, while all the others were ordered to leave. Not one of them was permitted to stay, and a crier was sent around to announce that any of them who was found in the camp might lawfully be killed. Finally, al-Afshīn wrote to the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim, asking him to send out a number of honest apothecaries and physicians. This pleased the caliph, and he sent al-Afshīn some apothecaries and physicians as he had requested.’ Footnotes 1 There are no bibliographic references to Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī in either Sezgin, gas iii , or in Ullmann, Medizin . Ibn al-Qifṭī has an entry on him under the name Zakariyyā al-Ṭayfūrī (see Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 187). This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 188. 3 Afshīn: a title traditionally borne by the native princes of Usrūshanah, the mountainous district between Samarqand and Khujanda, including the upper course of the Zarafshān River. Under the Abbasid caliphs, it was administratively part of Khorasan. In Islamic historiography, al-Afshīn denotes one of those princes in particular, namely Ḥaydar ibn Kāwūs, who served the caliphs al-Maʾmūn and al-Muʿtaṣim as a talented and successful general. See ei 2 art. ‘Afs̲h̲īn’ (W. Barthold & H.A.R. Gibb). 4 Head of the Khurramī sect, a religious and social movement said to have been derived in part from the older Persian religious movement known as Mazdakism. Bābak led a persistent rebellion in the eastern part of the Islamic empire during the reigns of the Abbasid caliphs al-Maʾmūn and al-Muʿtaṣim, which was finally put down by al-Afshīn in 222/837. See ei 2 art. ‘Bābak’ (D. Sourdel). 5 This camp was a substantial affair of some months’ duration; al-Afshīn had established it as a base from which to attack Bābak’s fortress of Badhdh, in northern Azerbaijan. The fortress was finally stormed on 9 Ramadan 222/15 August 837. 6 This anecdote occurs also in the Mukhtaṣar al-duwal , introduced by the words: wakhadama al-Afshīn Zakariyyā al-Ṭayfūrī ; See: Barhebraeus, Mukhtaṣar , 140–141. 8.12. Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī 1 [8.12.1] Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī was the personal physician of al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān. 2 He was a distinguished practitioner of the art of medicine, and was well regarded by caliphs and kings, who showed him great respect. His position as al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān’s medical attendant brought him a generous salary and ample benefits. The caliph al-Mutawakkil bi-Allāh had great faith in his judgement and consulted him regularly; his position in the caliph’s entourage was unassailable. This point is clearly made in an anecdote related by Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī 3 in The Practical Ethics of the Physician . We read in that work that Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī became furious with al-Mutawakkil, the Commander of the Faithful, when the caliph had had himself bled without Isrāʾīl’s approval. Al-Mutawakkil was able to appease his offended physician with a purse of three thousand dinars and the grant of an estate that yielded him fifty thousand dirhams a year. The caliph had a formal title issued to confirm the grant. [8.12.2] The following is another account related by al-Ruhāwī, on the authority of ʿĪsā ibn Māssah. 4 In the latter’s words: I saw al-Mutawakkil one day when he had gone to visit Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā. The physician had fainted, and the caliph put his hand under his head as though it had been a pillow. He then said to the vizier, ‘O ʿAbd Allāh, 5 my life is inextricably entwined with his; if I were to be bereft of him, I could not live.’ The caliph subsequently sent his chamberlain, Saʿīd ibn Ṣāliḥ, and his secretary, Mūsā ibn ʿAbd al-Malik, to visit Isrāʾīl on his behalf. I have read in some historical work or other that al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān greatly favoured Isrāʾīl ibn al-Ṭayfūrī and never tired of recommending him to al-Mutawakkil. Finally the caliph admitted him to his entourage and made him equal in rank to Bukhtīshūʿ, 6 so that he became an important figure at court. Whenever he rode to the caliph’s palace, he was attended by a train worthy of an emir or a senior military commander, with bodyguards armed with cudgels. When al-Mutawakkil decided to grant his physician some land in Samarra, he ordered Ṣiqlāb and Ibn al-Khaybarī 7 to ride the bounds with him so that he could choose the location he liked. He finally selected a tract fifty thousand cubits in extent, and the caliph’s servants set up boundary markers on it. In addition, the caliph gave him 300,000 dirhams for its maintenance. Footnotes 1 There are no bibliographic references to Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī in either Sezgin, gas iii , or Ullmann, Medizin . Ibn al-Qifṭī refers to him briefly as having been the grandson of ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī and the personal physician of al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān (Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 218). This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 Captain of the palace guard under the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim, holder of various posts under the latter’s successor, al-Mutawakkil, and a man of letters. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Fatḥ b. K̲h̲āḳān’ (O. Pinto). 3 See Ch. 8.3.8 . Cf. Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 150 and (facs.). 165. 4 For bibliographic references to ʿĪsā ibn Māssah, see Sezgin, gas iii , 257; Ullmann, Medizin , 122. His biography will be found at Ch. 8.28 . Cf. Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 150 and (facs.). 165–166. 5 According to ei 2 art. ‘al-Mutawakkil’ (H. Kennedy), al-Mutawakkil’s vizier was not ʿAbd Allāh, but ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Yaḥyā ibn Khāqān. 6 Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl; see Ch. 8.4 . 7 Ṣiqlāb and Ibn al-Khaybarī: unidentified. 8.13. Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā ibn Abī Khālid 1 [8.13.1] Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā ibn Abī Khālid was the personal physician of the caliph al-Maʾmūn. 2 He was outstanding in his knowledge of the art of medicine, and was also brilliant at treatment and distinguished for his excellence. In addition toal-Maʾmūn, he also practised in the service of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī, 3 who treated him with great generosity, rewarded him lavishly, saw to his welfare and paid him a handsome salary. He was also known as Yazīd Būr. 4 [8.13.2] The following account is from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, 5 who says he had it from Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. According to the latter, the great sheikh Thumāmah al-ʿAbsī al-Qaʿqāʿī (the father of ʿUthmān ibn Thumāmah, the ruler of al-Ḥiyār) 6 was once afflicted with intractable diarrhoea ( khilfah ). In Abū Isḥāq’s own words, Hārūn al-Rashīd asked me about the case and how Thumāmah was doing. When I told him that I had no news, he gave me a censorious look and said, ‘An outlander of noble birth, a man into whose family ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Marwān 7 was willing to marry, a man whose sister 8 bore two caliphs, al-Walīd ibn ʿAbd al-Malik 9 and Sulaymān ibn ʿAbd al-Malik, 10 a man whose sister your own father 11 was prepared to marry, a man for whom I myself, your brother, had sufficient regard to contract marriage with his daughter, a man who was a companion of your grandfather, 12 your father, your sister and your brother, yet you do not consider it to be your duty to go and visit him?’ He followed this up with a direct order to visit the sick man. I therefore called on Thumāmah, taking with me my own physician, Yazīd. When I entered the room, I saw a man who appeared to have no more than a breath or two left in his body; I did not think that I could ask him any questions. My physician, Yazīd, had the attending physician sent for. When he appeared, Yazīd asked him about the case. The attending physician replied that the patient went to stool a hundred times in the course of a day and a night. Yazīd then proceeded to question him in detail about the medicines Thumāmah had taken and about the medicinal powders and enemas that had been administered to him. The physician listed them all, adding in every case that it had been tried and had had no effect. Yazīd lowered his head in thought for the space of an hour or so. He then looked up and said, ‘There is one further possibility, which I hope will be of use. If it does not help, there will be nothing that we can do.’ [8.13.3] Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī’s account continues: I saw Thumāmah brighten up at Yazīd’s words. ‘What is this one further possibility?’ he asked. ‘Tell me, I beg of you.’ ‘A digestive,’ 13 replied Yazīd. ‘I should like to see and smell this digestive,’ said the sick man, whereupon Yazīd took from his sleeve a handkerchief containing various drugs, including the potion he had called a digestive. ‘Untie it, would you?’ said Thumāmah, and when Yazīd untied it, Thumāmah seized the digestive, threw it into his mouth and swallowed it. By God, hardly had it gone down when I heard such sounds that I was sure he would be dead by the time I had reached the door of his house. I arose, along with my physician, well-nigh out of my mind with sorrow, and told a slave-boy, whom I had brought along to carry my astrolabe while I rode, to remain in the house and send me word of Thumāmah when there should be any news. I received a message from him the next afternoon: Thumāmah, he said, had gone to the latrine fifty times between sunrise and noon. When I read that, I said to myself, ‘By God, he is a dead man.’ A second message arrived that evening, informing me that between noon and sunset, Thumāmah had gone to the latrine twenty times. In the morning, however, the boy himself turned up and reported that between sunset and midnight, the patient had gone to the latrine only three times, and between midnight and dawn, not at all. Accordingly, after performing the dawn prayer, I rode to Thumāmah’s house, where I found him sleeping, something he had been unable to do for some time. When he awoke and greeted me, I asked him how he was, and he informed me that because of pain in his abdomen, he had had no sleep or repose for more than forty nights. When he had swallowed the digestive, however, and its initial impact had passed, the pain had disappeared. Moreover, he had had no desire for any food during all that time, whereas at present he could hardly see me, so hungry was he. He asked Yazīd whether it would be all right for him to eat. Yazīd told him he might eat a stew made from a fat young Kaskarī chicken, 14 followed by a confection of sugar, almonds and vinegar, and so that is what he did. I then left him and went to call on Hārūn al-Rashīd. When I told the caliph about Thumāmah’s recovery, he had Yazīd summoned and said to him, ‘Villain! How could you have ventured to dose him with stomachic seed?’ 15 ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ the physician replied, ‘the patient was a man who had a harmful chyme 16 in his stomach that corrupted all the medicine and food that he took. That corrupted food and medicine then became matter for further corruption, and consequently, the malady became progressively worse. I knew that the patient’s only hope was a strong medicine that could overcome the action of the chyme, and the strongest medicine that he could take was a digestive. I therefore suggested it to him, taking care, mind you, not to tell him that the draught would cure him. No indeed, I merely said that there remained one further possibility, and that if it did not help, there would be nothing more that we could do. I chose those words because I saw that the patient’s strength had been seriously sapped by his illness and was nearly gone. I could not be sure that he would not die if he drank it; I hoped it would cure him, but in any case it was clear that he would die if he did not drink it.’ This explanation satisfied Hārūn al-Rashīd, who ordered that Yazīd should receive ten thousand dirhams. The caliph then went to visit Thumāmah, and said to him, ‘You were really taking a leap in the dark in swallowing that draught, especially since the physician had not definitely said that it would cure you.’ ‘I had already counted my life as lost, O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Thumāmah, ‘and when I heard the physician say that the medicine might be beneficial, I decided to prefer hope to despair, if only for a moment, and so I drank the draught. Therein lay a great blessing from God.’ [8.13.4] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm continues: This story resembles one that is related of the Messenger of God, may God bless and keep him. A man of the Arabs is said to have come to him and said to him, ‘O Messenger of God, my brother is suffering from a grievous stomach ailment. We have treated him, but without effect.’ The Messenger of God, may God bless and keep him, said, ‘Give him bee-honey.’ The man returned and fed the patient honey, but the diarrhoea became worse. The tribesman went back to Muḥammad and said, ‘O Messenger of God, his diarrhoea has worsened since I gave him the honey.’ ‘Give him honey,’ repeated Muḥammad. The man gave his brother more honey, only to find that the diarrhoea became still worse. He went back to the Messenger of God, may God bless and keep him, to complain, but Muḥammad replied, ‘Give him yet more honey.’ The man did so for the third straight day, and this time the diarrhoea dwindled and finally dried up altogether. When he reported this outcome to the Messenger of God, may God bless and keep him, he said, ‘You see? God spoke the truth, and your brother’s stomach lied.’ 17 The reason why the Messenger of God, peace be upon him, said that to the man was that he knew that the velvety lining of a sick person’s stomach contains certain thick, viscid humours that make the stomach slick, with the result that any binding medication that he takes passes right through without effect, while the humours remain there. Food also slides through, and consequently the diarrhoea continues. When the patient takes honey, the honey dislodges those humours and drives them downward. This causes the diarrhoea to increase at first, as the humours are evacuated, but ultimately they are entirely eliminated, the diarrhoea dries up, and the patient recovers. When the Messenger of God said, ‘God spoke the truth,’ he was referring to the knowledge that God, mighty and glorious is He, had given to His Messenger and taught him, and when he said, ‘Your brother’s stomach lied,’ he was referring to the apparent increase in the flux, which was not really a sign of a worsening of the malady, so the stomach might be said to have lied. Footnotes 1 There are no bibliographic references to Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā ibn Abī Khālid in Sezgin, gas iii , or Ullmann, Medizin . Ibn al-Qifṭī has a brief entry on him under the name Yazīd ibn Abī Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā, ‘known as Yazīd Būr’ (Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 395). In view of the marginal note in ms A, it must be the same person. This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 R. 198–218/813–833. 3 A brother of the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd. 4 Marginal note in ms A. 5 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 6 Unidentified, but clearly of distinguished Arab descent, as he was the brother of Wallādah bint al-ʿAbbās ibn Jazʾ (see nt. 8 below). Al-Ḥiyār, also called Ḥiyār Banī l-Qaʿqāʿ, is mentioned in Yāqūt, Muʿjam al-buldān , s.v. 7 The fifth Umayyad caliph, r. 65–86/685–705. 8 Wallādah bint al-ʿAbbās ibn Jazʾ, who was from the Banū ʿAbs, an important northern Arabian tribe belonging to the confederation known as the Ghaṭafān; see ei 2 art. ‘G̲h̲aṭafān’ (J.W. Fück). 9 The sixth Umayyad caliph, successor to ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Marwān; r. 86–96/705–715. 10 The seventh Umayyad caliph, successor to his brother, al-Walīd ibn ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Marwān; r. 96–99/715–717. 11 The third Abbasid caliph, al-Mahdī (r. 158–169/775–785). 12 The caliph al-Manṣūr (r. 136–158/754–775). 13 Aṣṭumakhīqūn (στομαχικόν), defined by Dozy ( Supplément ) as ‘stomachique, sorte de remède purgatif’. The more common Arabic term is jawārishn meaning a digestive, an agent that improves appetite and digestion. The technical term is stomachic. 14 Kaskar was an ancient town on the west bank of the Tigris, just opposite the town of Wāsiṭ, founded by the Umayyad governor al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf. 15 Ḥabb al-aṣṭumakhīqūn , as though aṣṭumakhīqūn were the name of a medicinal plant. 16 ‘Chyme’ nowadays means the semifluid mass of partly digested food that passes from the stomach into the intestines during the process of digestion. The Greek word χυμός from which both the English ‘chyme’ and the Arabic kaymūs or kīmūs are derived means simply ‘juice’. 17 This hadith is in the canonical collections, see Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ , vii:123 (no. 5684), vii:128 (no. 5716); Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ , iv:1736 (no. 91). The prescription of honey was also a common topic in works on prophetic medicine, and this hadith is discussed (in the context of stomach diseases) in Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah, al-Ṭibb al-nabawī , 30–34. 8.14. ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd 1 Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī 2 reports, on the authority of his father, that once, within the latter’s lifetime, al-Qāsim ibn ʿUbayd Allāh 3 fell gravely ill with an attack of colic in the month of July. ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd, who was the only physician attending him, gave him a potion consisting of a decoction of roots, including celery root and anise root, to which he added some castor oil and some of the electuary known as iyārij fīqarā . 4 When al-Qāsim had drunk it, the pain left him; he went twice to the latrine, and it was apparent that his condition had improved. The next morning, the physician gave him some barley water and received his patient’s compliments in return. Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī also reports that his brother, Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī, once became ill with a high fever. He wasted away until he had become so weak that he could eat nothing. In the month of June, ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd dosed him with that same decoction of roots with the electuary and castor oil in it for twenty-four days running, and by the end of that time he had recovered, with his stomach comfortably settled. The physician said to him, ‘At about this time next year, you will be stricken with a high fever which you may not survive, but if you do, I will save you, with God’s permission, exalted is He. The sign of the restoration of your health in the course of the year will be that your nature will take an upward turn on the seventh day. If that happens, you will recover. At the same time, however, your stomach will become so empty that if you were to put a stone into it, it would grind the stone.’ ‘A year later,’ al-Qiyānī’s account continues, ‘it was ‘Abdūs who fell ill, while on that very day my brother came down with fever, just as the physician had foretold. From his sickbed, ʿAbdūs displayed constant concern for my brother, asking frequently for news of him. Finally he was informed that my brother’s nature had taken an upward turn. “He is saved,” he sighed, and died the next morning.’ ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd is the author of an aide-mémoire on the art of medicine ( K. al-Tadhkirah fī l-ṭibb ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd, see Sezgin, gas iii , 264, Ullmann, Medizin , 302. This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 Unidentified. He was mentioned above, in Ch. 8.4 . 3 Vizier under the Abbasid caliphs al-Muʿtaḍid bi-Allāh (r. 279–289/892–902) and al-Muktafī (r. 289–295/902–908). The anecdote corresponds to Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 251. 4 The term iyārij (pl. iyārijāt ), from the Greek ἱερὰ, is the general term (often rendered as hiera) for a purgative compound drug that is rather bitter, containing strong purgatives such as colcynth, euphorium, scammony and especially aloe (Levey, Early Arabic Ph armacology , 85–86; Ullmann, Medizin , 296). Hieras were often indistinguishable from theriacs. Some hieras bore specific names, such as iyārij fīqarā (the hiera picra , from the Greek ἱερὰ πικρά ‘divine bitter’); see Ibn al-Tilmīdh, Dispensatory , no. 56. 8.15. Sahl al-Kawsaj 1 [8.15.1] Sahl al-Kawsaj was the father of Sābūr ibn Sahl, the author of the well-known Medical Forumlary ( al-Aqrābādhīn ). 2 Sahl came from al-Ahwāz, and spoke with the characteristic accent of Khūzistān. He was heavily bearded; his nickname ‘al-Kawsaj’, which means ‘beardless’, was some sort of joke. He was knowledgeable about the art of medicine, albeit less learned than his son. Sahl was a great joker, rather to the detriment of his gravitas. He was not comparable to Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, 3 Jūrjis the son of Bukhtīshūʿ’s daughter, 4 ʿĪsā ibn Ḥakam, 5 ʿĪsā ibn Abī Khālid, 6 Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī, 7 Yaʿqūb the superintendent of the hospital, al-Ḥasan ibn Quraysh, ʿĪsā the Muslim, 8 Sahl ibn Jubayr 9 and other physicians of that generation in terms of eloquence (although he was as competent as any of them with respect to his treatment of patients), but they feared his tongue, for he had an abundant store of abusive language from which none of them was safe. He was a close friend of Sallām al-Abrash, 10 and the latter introduced him to Harthamah ibn Aʿyan, 11 whom Sallām knew well, during the latter’s siege of Baghdad. 12 Sahl and Harthamah became comrades at once, passing their days, nights and evenings together, and Sahl’s taste for constant jesting made him a pleasant companion. [8.15.2] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm 13 tells the story of one of Sahl al-Kawsaj’s merry pranks. In the year 209/824, under the pretext that he was ill, he sent for witnesses and asked them to witness his will, which he wrote out then and there. In it, he listed the names of his children as, first, Jūrjis ibn Mīkhāʾīl, whose mother was Maryam bint Bukhtīshūʿ, Jibrīl’s sister; second, Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, and third, fourth and fifth, Sābūr, Yūḥannā and Khudhāwayh, who were known to be his offspring. He stated that he had seduced the mothers of Jūrjis and Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, getting them pregnant with Jūrjis and Yūḥannā respectively. Another anecdote related by Yūsuf runs as follows: Once, when I had called on Aʿyan ibn Harthamah ibn Aʿyan, I found Sahl there. He and Jūrjis were shouting abuse at each other, arguing about a quartan fever from which Aʿyan had been suffering for some time, and Sahl told Jūrjis the same tale that he had spun in the matter of the will that he had had witnessed. Jūrjis turned repeatedly toward those who were to the left of him and then toward those on his right, speechless with fury. At this, Sahl cried, ‘Anaphylactic feet, by the tooth of the Masai! Re-shite the Tone-purse into his ear,’ by which he meant, ‘An epileptic fit, by the truth of the Messiah! Recite the Throne-verse into his ear.’ 14 Yet another anecdote, also related by Yūsuf: Sahl once went out on Palm Sunday to visit the monastery where the Catholicos 15 lived and the other places where Christians go on Palm Sunday. As he went along, he chanced to see Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, and observed that he was better dressed than he himself was and was riding a more spirited horse. In addition, he was attended by a number of handsome-looking slave-boys. Sahl felt a pang of envy at this display of prosperity. He went to the captain of the district constabulary and said to him, ‘My son is disobedient and conceited. Indeed, he is so self-important and proud that he may have disowned me as his father. There are twenty dinars in it for you if you will throw him to the ground and give him twenty good, hard lashes,’ and he took out the twenty dinars then and there. Handing the money to a man whom the captain knew and trusted, he then withdrew a short distance away. When Yūḥannā came by, Sahl said to the captain, ‘There he is, that’s my disobedient son, who thinks he’s better than I am.’ Yūḥannā protested that he was no son of Sahl’s, but the captain spoke not a word: he threw him to the ground and flogged him, administering twenty stinging lashes. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Sahl al-Kawsaj, see Sezgin, gas iii , 230. This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 In Ibn al-Qifṭī it is stated that he was the son , rather than the father, of Sābūr ibn Sahl, see Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 196. 3 See Ch. 8.26 . 4 See Ch. 8.15.2 below for Jūrjis ibn Mīkhāʾīl, whose mother was Maryam bint Bukhtīshūʿ, Jibrīl’s sister. 5 See Ch. 7.8 6 According to Sezgin ( gas iii , 263), this ʿĪsā ibn Abī Khālid may be identified with Ibn Abī Khālid al-Fārisī, who is stated in al-Rāzī’s al-Ḥāwī to be the author of a work entitled al-Kunnāsh al-Fārisī . 7 See Ch. 8.12 . 8 Unidentified. 9 Unidentified. 10 Sallām al-Abrash is mentioned as a translator of scientific works in Ibn al-Nadīm’s Fihrist (ed. Flügel, 244). 11 The military captain who refused to swear the oath of allegiance to Jaʿfar ibn Mūsā, son of the caliph al-Hādī, as wālī al-ʿahd and to proclaim Hārūn al-Rashīd deposed; the story will be found in the biography of ʿAbd Allāh al-Tayfūrī ( Ch. 8.10 ). Under Hārūn, Harthamah was second-in-command of the palace guard, and in that capacity he arrested Hārūn’s vizier, Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā ibn Khālid ibn Barmak; see Ch. 8.3.16 . 12 In 196/812, during the struggle between al-Amīn and al-Maʾmūn following the death of Hārūn al-Rashīd in 193/809. Harthamah was an important factor in al-Maʾmūn’s victory. 13 A source upon whom iau frequently draws. See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 14 This is presumably an attempt to reproduce Sahl’s characteristic Khūzistān accent. The Throne-verse is verse 255 of the second surah of the Qur’an (al-Baqarah). The fun is based on Sahl’s mispronunciation of certain consonants, e.g. wa-hakk al-masīh instead of wa-ḥaqq al-masīḥ . 15 The head of the Nestorian Church. 8.16. Sābūr ibn Sahl 1 Sābūr ibn Sahl spent his professional life in practice at the hospital in Gondēshāpūr, caring for the patients there. He was an outstanding physician who possessed extensive knowledge of the powers of simple drugs and how they could be compounded. Sābūr enjoyed the favour of the caliph al-Mutawakkil, 2 who held him in high regard, and of his successors. He died during the caliphate of al-Muhtadī bi-Allāh, 3 on Monday with nine days remaining in the month of Dhū l-Ḥijjah in the year 255 [28 November 869]. Sābūr ibn Sahl is the author of the following works: The well-known Greater Medical Formulary ( K. al-Aqrābādhīn al-kabīr ), in seventeen chapters. 4 The hospital relied on this work, as did apothecaries, especially before the publication of the work with the same title composed by Amīn al-Dawlah ibn al-Tilmīdh. 5 Foods: their efficacies, harmful effects and beneficial effects ( K. Quwā laṭʿimah wa-maḍārriha wa-manāfiʿiha ). Refutation of Ḥunayn in his work on the distinction between food and laxative medicine ( K. al-Radd ‘alā Ḥunayn fī kitābihi fī l-farq bayna l-ghidhāʾ wa-bayna l-dawāʾ al-mus′hil ). On sleep and wakefulness ( al-Qawl fī l-nawm wa-l-yaqaẓah ). On substitute drugs ( K. Abdāl al-adwiyah ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Sābūr ibn Sahl, see Sezgin, gas iii , 244, Ullmann, Medizin , 300. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. For this entry, cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 207, Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:300 (22 chapters). 2 R. 232–247/847–861. 3 R. 255–256/869–870. 4 It seems the work circulated in several recensions; see Sābūr ibn Sahl, ʿAḍudī recension , as well as Sābūr ibn Sahl, Dispensatorium and Sābūr ibn Sahl, Small Dispensatory . 5 For Ibn al-Tilmīdh and his K. al-Aqrābādhīn , see Kahl, The dispensatory ; also Ullman, Medizin , 163, 306. For the biography of Amīn al-Dawlah ibn al-Tilmīdh, see Ch. 10.64 . 8.17. Isrāʾīl ibn Sahl 1 Isrāʾīl ibn Sahl was a leading practitioner of the art of medicine. He treated his patients admirably and was skilful at compounding medications. He is the author of a celebrated work on theriac, a splendid achievement over which he took great pains. Footnotes 1 No bibliographic references to Isrāʾīl ibn Sahl have been found. This biography is not included in ms A. 8.18. Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl al-Kūfī 1 [8.18.1] Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl al-Kūfī was the personal physician of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. 2 The following account is taken from a work by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: 3 This Mūsā did not know much about medicine, compared with the great physicians of his age. Yet he was better company at Ibrāhīm’s soirées than they were. He had a number of advantages: he was very well-spoken, he was well informed about astrology, he possessed a fund of anecdotes about various people, and he could recite poetry at length. He was born, so I have been told, in the year 129/746, and he died in 222/837. Abū Isḥāq 4 put up with him because of his social skills. He was certainly a very pleasant fellow, with a manner reminiscent of the boon companions of kings. In his youth, Mūsā had been in the service of the heir apparent, ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā ibn Muḥammad. 5 To resume the account of Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl told me once that ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā had a Jewish physician named Furāt ibn Shaḥāthā whom the physician Tayādhūq 6 had considered his best pupil. He had been in the service of al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf 7 in his youth, but was elderly at this time. Whenever ʿĪsā fell ill, this was the physician whom he would consult. In Mūsā’s own words: Now, when al-Manṣūr had ordered ʿĪsā to take the field against the ʿAlid rebel Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ḥasan 8 and the banner was flying from his house, he said to Furāt, ‘What do you think about this banner?’ ‘I see it as a banner of discord between you and your people to the Day of Judgement,’ replied the physician. ‘If you will take my advice, you will move your family out of Kufa – anywhere you like, so long as it is away from Kufa. For Kufa is the stronghold of the adversary against whom you are about to take the field, and if your army is routed, it is certain that none of your family who remain here will survive, whereas if it is you who defeat the enemy and strike down the man who is currently the cynosure of every eye, your success will make the people hate you all the more. You yourself may escape with your life, but assuredly your descendants will not be so fortunate once you are gone.’ ‘I really can’t do that,’ replied ʿĪsā, ‘for the Commander of the Faithful will not be leaving Kufa, 9 and why should I take my family away while they are here with him and in his palace?’ ‘In deciding whether to leave or to remain,’ said Furāt, ‘the main point you should consider is that if your campaign is successful, the caliph will stay in Kufa, whereas if it is unsuccessful, he will not be able to reside there and will flee, leaving his own family behind, let alone yours.’ Īsā attempted to move his family away from Kufa, but al-Manṣūr would not allow it. [8.18.2] Mūsā’s account continues: When God had granted victory to ʿĪsā and he returned to Kufa and slew Ibrāhīm ibn ʿAbd Allāh, 10 al-Manṣūr moved to Baghdad. ʿĪsā’s physician urged him to ask the caliph for permission to accompany him to his new city, which he had just had built. He did so, but al-Manṣūr refused, saying that he had decided to appoint him governor of Kufa. When ʿĪsā reported this to Furāt, the physician replied, ‘If he is appointing you governor of Kufa, he does not mean you to continue to be the heir apparent, for if that were his intention, he would have appointed you governor of Khorasan, which is the land of your faction. 11 Kufa, in contrast, is the stronghold of his enemies and yours, and now you have killed Ibrāhīm ibn ʿAbd Allāh. By God, it looks to me as though he wants you dead, you and your descendants for good measure. Now, in the light of this, you can’t very well expect him to give you Khorasan, but you might ask him to make you governor of the two Jazīrahs 12 or Syria. Whichever of them he gives you, go and settle there.’ ‘How is this?’ exclaimed ʿĪsā, ‘you don’t want me to be governor of Kufa, whose people are partisans of the Banū Hāshim, 13 and you think I should be governor of Syria or the two Jazīrahs, whose people are partisans of the Umayyads!’ ‘To be sure, the people of Kufa call themselves partisans of the Banū Hāshim,’ replied the physician, ‘but they are not thinking of you and your family; they are really only partisans of the descendants of ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, some of whom you have just been killing, and thereby earning for yourself the hatred of the people of Kufa, who would not consider themselves bound in duty to obey you. The people of the two Jazīrahs and Syria, for their part, do not favour the Umayyads out of genuine feeling, but only because the Umayyads treated them generously. If you, once you are their governor, display affection and liberality in your dealings with them, they will become your faction. You can see this from the fact that they were willing to follow ʿAbd Allāh ibn ʿAlī 14 into battle, despite the fact that he had shed a great deal of their blood, when he established good relations with them and showed that he could be open-handed as their governor. And they will be all the more favourably disposed toward you, because you have not shed their blood.’ Accordingly, ʿĪsā asked to be excused from the post of governor of Kufa and given a different province, but al-Manṣūr refused, on the grounds that Kufa was the capital of the caliphate, and consequently either a caliph or an heir apparent must reside there. However, he said, ʿĪsā could spend one year in Baghdad and one year in Kufa alternately, and whenever he himself went to Kufa, ʿĪsā could go to Baghdad and live there. Mūsā’s account continues: When Khorasanians 15 asked for the designation of al-Mahdī as heir apparent, ʿĪsā said to his physician, ‘What do you think I should do, Furāt? I have been asked to step down so that Muḥammad, 16 the son of the Commander of the Faithful, takes precedence.’ ‘I hope you will be guided by what I think you should listen to and do, both this day and later,’ said the physician. ‘Later?’ asked ʿĪsā. ‘Yes,’ said Furāt, ‘if Muḥammad, the son of the Commander of the Faithful, requires you to step down so that one of his own sons can become heir apparent, you should make haste to do so, for you do not have the power to do otherwise, and cannot thwart the people in anything they ask of you.’ [8.18.3] Mūsā continues: The physician Furāt died while al-Manṣūr was caliph. In due course, al-Mahdī required ʿĪsā to step down as heir apparent in favour of al-Hādī. ‘O Furāt, you devil,’ lamented ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā, ‘how right you were, and with what excellent judgement you spoke, as though you had seen this day with your own eyes.’ Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl adds, When I saw what Abū l-Sarāyā 17 had done to the houses of the Abbasids, I uttered the same words that ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā had uttered. Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm clarifies this statement as follows: Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl was in Egypt when he heard about the devastation that the ʿAlids and the people of Kufa had inflicted on the Abbasids, and how ʿAbd Allāh ibn Muḥammad ibn Dāwūd 18 had been killed. When the news reached him, he repeated the words of ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā and Furāt the physician. [8.18.4] A further account related by Yūsuf runs as follows: I have heard from Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl, the physician, that ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā once complained to his own physician, Furāt, that in the course of social evenings, he would frequently become sleepy. If he took his supper with his companions, his stomach became heavy, and he would nod off and sleep through the evening’s conversation, and then the next morning he would feel very full and did not want any breakfast. On the other hand, if he did not take supper with the others, he would feel terrible pangs of hunger. ‘What you have just said to me,’ the physician replied, ‘is exactly what al-Ḥajjāj 19 said to my old teacher, the physician Tayādhūq. Tayādhūq gave him advice that was meant to be beneficial but turned out in the event to be harmful instead.’ ‘What was it?’ enquired ‘Īsā. ‘He advised him to snack on pistachios,’ replied Furāt. ‘Al-Ḥajjāj reported this to the women of his harem, and every single one of them had a quantity of pistachios shelled and a bowlful of them sent to him. All through his social evening with his companions, al-Ḥajjāj was gulping those pistachios, and as a result he was stricken with a bout of diarrhoea with vomiting 20 that nearly killed him. He complained to Tayādhūq, whereupon the physician said to him, ‘I told you to snack on pistachios. By that I meant that you should take a handful of unshelled pistachios and crack them yourself one by one, for having the shells in your mouth would have been beneficial for the stomach of a bilious youth like yourself, while the taste of them would have made its way to your liver, which would thereby have benefited as well. Then you would have proceeded to eat the kernel and tried to crack another one, but before you had finished doing so, nature would have ensured that you had digested the previous one. Eating them as you did, it is not surprising that you are worse off now than you were before.’ ‘And,’ Mūsā concluded, ‘if you, O emir, will eat pistachios as my teacher said they should be eaten, they are sure to do you good.’ Mūsā added that ʿĪsā ibn Mūsā ate pistachios in that way for more than twenty years and found them excellent. Footnotes 1 There are no bibliographic references to Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl al-Kūfī either in Sezgin, gas iii or in Ullmann, Medizin . Ibn al-Qifṭī has an entry for him ( Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 316). This biography occurs in all three versions of the book. 2 A son of the caliph al-Mahdī who was a poet and musician and survived a brief term as caliph in 202–203/817–819. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). 3 A source upon whom iau frequently draws. See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 4 I.e. Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. 5 Nephew of the first two Abbasid caliphs, al-Saffāḥ and al-Manṣūr; designated walī l-ʿahd , but subsequently compelled to resign in favour of al-Mahdī. See ei 2 art. ‘ʿĪsā b. Mūsā’ (D. Sourdel). 6 See his biography in Ch. 7.9 . 7 The most competent, and arguably also the most ruthless, of all Umayyad governors (c. 41–95/661–714). A loyal servant of the caliphs ʿAbd al-Malik and al-Walīd, he suppressed revolts in Iraq and the eastern provinces, and subsequently promoted agriculture and restored prosperity there. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥad̲j̲d̲j̲ād̲j̲ b. Yūsuf’ (A. Dietrich). 8 See ei 2 art. ‘Muḥammad b. ʿAbd Allāh b. al-Ḥasan al-Mut̲h̲annā b. al-Ḥasan b. ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib, called al-Nafs al-Zakiyya’ (F. Buhl). Kufa was a hotbed of ʿAlid sentiment, but the main military action took place in Medina, where Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh had risen in revolt. ʿĪsā crushed the rebellion in 145/762. 9 At this time, al-Manṣūr had not yet built the Round City of Baghdad that subsequently became his capital. 10 Brother and fellow-rebel of Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh, who had recently met his fate in Medina; see Ch. 8.18.1 n. 8 above. 11 The Khorasanid troops, both those of Khorasanid origin and the Arabs settled there, had been the main supporters of the Abbāsid revolution. 12 Presumably referring compendiously to al-Jazīrah (i.e. northern Mesopotamia; see ei 2 art. ‘al-D̲ j̲azīra’, M. Canard) and Jazīrat al-ʿArab, the Arabian Peninsula. 13 The Banū Hāshim, also called the ‘people of the house’ ( ahl al-bayt ) were the extended family of the Prophet which included the descendants of ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (ʿAlids) and the descendants of Abū l-ʿAbbās (Abbasids). This anecdote plays with the ambivalence of this name, which might refer to both branches of the family. 14 Uncle of the first two Abbasid caliphs, al-Saffāḥ and al-Manṣūr, and an important military leader in the Abbasid cause (he was in command of the Abbasid troops at the decisive battle of the Greater Zāb in 132/750, which finally broke the Umayyad power). He was later governor of Syria, where he was implacable in exterminating Umayyads. Ultimately, however, he met an unhappy fate at the hands of al-Manṣūr. See ei 2 art. ‘ʿAbd Allāh b. ʿAlī’ (K.V. Zetterstéen and S. Moscati). 15 These Khorasanians or Khorasanids, referred to in the sources as ahl Khurāsān (people of Khorasan), abnāʾal-dawlah (sons of the dynasty) or abnāʾal-daʿwah (sons of the [Abbasid] cause), were the supporters of the Abbasid revolution, many of whom had settled in Iraq and sided with al-Amīn during the fourth fitnah . The term Khorasanian does not neccesarily refer to ethnicity in this context, but rather to allegiance: Arab families such as the al-Qaḥāṭibah were also considered part of the ahl Khurāsān . After the civil war, the Khorasanid troops newly arrived with al-Maʾmūn would also be known by this name; but here the term ahl Khurāsān refers to the influential families that took part in the Abbasid revolution. On this group see Crone, ‘ʿAbbāsid Abnāʾ’. 16 I.e., the future caliph al-Mahdī. 17 Abū l-Sarāyā al-Sarī ibn Manṣūr al-Shaybānī, a Shiite rebel who conquered Kufa and much of southern Iraq in 199/815. See ei 2 art. ‘Abū l-Sarāyā al-Sarī b. Manṣūr al-S̲h̲aybānī’ (H.A.R. Gibb). Although not mentioned by name, there is a reference to Abū l-Sarāyā’s rebellion in Ch. 8.3.14 . 18 An unidentified Abbasid. 19 See Ch. 8.18.1 n 7 above. The story of the pistachio treatment will also be found in the biography of Tayādhūq at Ch. 7.9 . 20 Hayḍah , a state of evacuation involving both vomiting and diarrhoea. 8.19. Māsarjawayh 1 [8.19.1] Māsarjawayh, ‘the physician of Basra’, was the one who translated the Compendium ( Kunnāsh ) of Ahrun 2 from Syriac into Arabic. He was Jewish by religion, and a Syriac speaker. When Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn Zakariyyā al-Rāzī quotes ‘the Jew’ in his Comprehensive Book ( K. al-Ḥāwī ), he refers to Māsarjawayh. [8.19.2] Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān, known as Ibn Juljul, informs us 3 that Māsarjawayh lived in the time of the Umayyads, and that during the reign of the Marwānids 4 he produced an Arabic version of Ahrun ibn Aʿyan’s celebrated work. ʿUmar ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, 5 may God have mercy upon him, subsequently came upon this Arabic version in a library somewhere and ordered it brought out and placed in his own prayer-room. He then sought guidance from God, through prayer and consultation of the Qur’ani, in an effort to decide whether he should make it available to the Muslims, in case it should be beneficial to them. After reflecting on the matter for forty mornings, he did make it available and endeavoured to ensure that it was widely distributed. Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān states that he heard the above account from Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn ʿUmar ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz in the mosque of al-Tirmidhī 6 in the year 359/969–970. [8.19.3] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm said: 7 I heard this story from Ayyūb ibn al-Ḥakam al-Baṣrī, known as al-Kisrawī, 8 who was a friend of Muḥammad ibn Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn 9 and a man of education and virtue; he possessed an extensive knowledge of famous people and had a large fund of anecdotes about them. In his own words: Abū Nuwās al-Ḥasan ibn Hāniʾ 10 was in love with a slave-girl named Janān who belonged to a woman of the tribe Thaqīf. The girl and her mistress lived in the place known as Ḥakamān, 11 which is near Basra, and among the mistress’ relatives were two men named Abū ʿUthmān and Abū Umayyah. Abū Nuwās was in the habit of setting out from Basra every day, and whenever he met anyone coming from the direction of Ḥakamān, he would ask the person for news of Janān. Ayyūb’s account continues: One day I accompanied him on his outing, and as it happened the first person we met was Māsarjawayh the physician. Abū Nuwās greeted him and said, ‘How are Abū ʿUthmān and Abū Umayyah?’ ‘Janān is as well as anyone could wish,’ replied Māsarjawayh. Abū Nuwās thereupon recited the following verses: I ask those who come from Ḥakamān ‘How was Abū ʿUthmān when you left him, And Abū Mayyah, 12 that refined man, whose support one can hope for and expect in difficult times?’ They say to me, ‘Janān is as well as would please you, so ask about Janān!’ What is it to them? May God not bless them! How come that my secrecy has not availed? [8.19.4] The following account is also taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, again quoting Ayyūb ibn al-Ḥakam. Ayyūb tells how he was once sitting with Māsarjawayh as he examined phials of urine, when a Khūzistānī man came up to him and said, ‘I am suffering from an illness unlike any that anyone has ever suffered from before.’ Māsarjawayh asked him about it, and he said, ‘In the morning, I find I cannot see clearly, and I have a feeling in my stomach, it is as though it were being devoured by dogs, until I have something to eat. Once I have had some breakfast, these symptoms disappear, but then they recur at midday. I then again have something to eat, and this eases the symptoms, but they return at the time of the evening prayer. The only way of treating my condition that I have found is to eat at intervals.’ ‘The wrath of God upon that illness,’ cried Māsarjawayh. ‘God made an unfortunate decision in giving it to such a worthless person as yourself. Would that it were to fall upon me and my children instead! I would be willing to give you half of everything I own in exchange for it.’ ‘Whatever do you mean?’ asked the man. ‘That illness is known as health,’ explained Māsarjawayh, ‘and you do not deserve it; I ask God to transfer it to some more meritorious person.’ [8.19.5] Yet another account from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, quoting again from Ayyūb ibn al-Ḥakam al-Kisrawī. In the latter’s own words: I once consulted Māsarjawayh when I was troubled with constipation. 13 He asked me what kind of date-wine I was in the habit of drinking, and I told him that I preferred the kind that was made from garden date syrup heavily laced with St. John’s wort. 14 In reply, he told me that I should eat a small cucumber of the kind the people of Basra call kharībī every day in the summer, before having eaten anything else. Al-Kisrawī’s account continues: So I used to have these small cucumbers served to me; they were about the thickness of a finger and about a fitr 15 in length, and I would eat five, six or seven of them. The result was that I became afflicted with a copious diarrhoea. I went back to Māsarjawayh and told him about it. Without saying a word to me, he administered an enema consisting largely of fats, resins, marshmallow and Persian rice. Then he said, ‘You might have killed yourself by eating all those cucumbers with nothing in your stomach. They were sending yellow bile down your intestinal tract, and it was stripping away the humours that adhere to the intestines and prevent yellow bile from abrading them or causing dysentery ( dūsinṭariyyā ).’ [8.19.6] Māsarjawayh is the author of the following books: 16 A compendium ( Kunnāsh ) On diet ( K. fī l-ghidhāʾ ) On the eye ( K. fī l-ʿayn ) Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Māsarjawayh, see Sezgin, gas iii , 206; Ullmann, Medizin , 23. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 A shadowy 6th cent. presbyter of Alexandria; see Sezgin, gas iii , 166; Ullmann, Islam , 88–89. The Arabic version by Māsarjawayh has survived only in the form of numerous quotations in al-Rāzī’s K. al-Ḥāwī and elsewhere; these have been collected by Sezgin and Ullmann in the passages referred to above. 3 Ibn Juljul, Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ , 61. 4 The Marwānid dynasty refers to all Umayyad caliphs from Marwān ibn Ḥakam until the Abbasid takeover, from 64/684 until 132/750 (see, e.g. ei 2 art, ‘Marwānids’, C. Hillenbrand), as distinct from the Sufyānids, the earlier Umayyads. 5 The fifth Umayyad caliph; r. 99–101/717–720. 6 Al-Tirmidhī was a celebrated 3rd/9th cent. collector of Hadith; see ei 2 art. ‘al-Tirmid̲h̲ī’ (G.H.A. Juynboll). In Ibn Juljul the mosque is that of al-Qarmūnī, i.e. a native of Carmona in al-Andalus. 7 A source upon whom iau frequently draws. See Ch 8.3.6 n. 15 . 8 Mentioned by Ibn al-Qifṭī ( Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 328) as Ayyūb ibn al-Ḥakam al-Baṣrī, chamberlain ( ḥājib ) of Muḥammad ibn Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn. 9 Perhaps a son of the founder of the Ṭāhirid dynasty, al-Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn, even though the sources do not mention a son of that name. Since Ayyūb ibn al-Ḥakam is, apparently, a contemporary of Māsarjawayh, chronology rules out the possibility that Muḥammad ibn Ṭāhir ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn (d. 296/908–909), the last Ṭāhirid governor of Khorasan, is meant here. 10 A celebrated poet of the Abbasid period. See ei 2 art. ‘Abū Nuwās’ (E. Wagner). 11 An estate near Basra. 12 Abū ʿUthmān and Abū Mayyah are identified by the commentator of Abū Nuwās’s Dīwān as Khālid ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz and a grandson of ʿAbd al-Wahhāb al-Thaqafī respectively. Abū ʿUthmān and Abū Mayyah were relatives of the mistress of Janān, the poet’s girlfriend. See Wagner, Abū Nuwās , 39–51 (for a German translation of the poem, see 47). 13 Or some kind of irregulatiry in the natural functions ( taʿadhdhur al-ṭabīʿah ). 14 The term al-dādhī was used for hypericum or St John’s-wort and was often appllied to date-wine infused with grains of hypericum to make it stronger and more aromatic; see Dozy, Supplément , i:419–420. On the other hand, Levey ( Medical Formulary , 265 no. 94) renders al-dādhī as the Judas tree ( Cercis siliquastrum L.). 15 The distance between the ends of the outstretched thumb and index finger; it is to be distinguished from the shibr , the span of the hand. See Glossary of Weights & Measures. 16 None of these books seems to have come down to us, but extracts have survived in quotations by several authors, especially al-Rāzī (see detailed references in Ullmann, Medizin , 24 n. 1 and n. 2). A work by Māsarjawayh on substitute drugs, not listed by iau , has been edited in Levey, Substitute Drugs . 8.20. Salmawayh ibn Bunān 1 [8.20.1] Salmawayh was the personal physician of the caliph Abū Isḥāq Muḥammad al-Muʿtaṣim bi-Allāh. 2 He was appointed upon al-Muʿtaṣim’s accession in the year 218/833, and the new caliph treated him with such generosity that words are inadequate to describe it. When decrees from al-Muʿtaṣim relating to appointments and other matters came in to the relevant administrative departments, they would be in Salmawayh’s handwriting. Orders and decrees relating to princes and military captains were issued as being from the presence of the Commander of the Faithful, but they would be in Salmawayh’s handwriting. Salmawayh’s brother, Ibrāhīm ibn Bunān, for his part, was appointed head of local offices of the Treasury in the cities of the realm, his seal being affixed beside that of the Commander of the Faithful. In al-Muʿtaṣim’s estimation, those two outranked all others. Salmawayh was a sincere Christian. He performed many good works, led an exemplary life, and was a man of great intelligence and good judgement. [8.20.2] The following account is taken from Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī’s 3 Practical Ethics of the Physician , and is there attributed by him to ʿĪsā ibn Māssah. 4 In the latter’s words: I have been informed by Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, 5 who had the story direct from al-Muʿtaṣim, that he (the caliph) said, ‘I have more regard for Salmawayh, my physician, than I have for the chief justice. The chief justice issues judgements about my property, whereas my physician issues judgements about my life, and my life is more important to me than my possessions and my realm.’ Salmawayh once became ill, and al-Muʿtaṣim’s son came to visit him, at his father’s orders. ‘I am quite sure,’ the caliph said, ‘that I will not survive after he is gone, for he looked after my life and managed the health of my body,’ and in the event he died less than a year after Salmawayh. [8.20.3] The following account comes from Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn, 6 who states that he had it from his father. According to Ḥunayn, Salmawayh was more knowledgeable about the art of medicine than any of his contemporaries. Al-Muʿtaṣim was wont to address him as ‘My father’. When the physician was ill, the caliph went to visit him, and said to him in tears, ‘Give me some advice that will be useful to me once you have left me.’ ‘You have treated me with the utmost kindness, Sire,’ replied Salmawayh. ‘Beware of that mountebank Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. When you consult him about some complaint, he is likely to prescribe a number of remedies; if so, take the one that contains the fewest ingredients.’ When Salmawayh died, al-Muʿtaṣim refused to take any food on the day of his death. He ordered that the physician’s bier should be carried to the caliphal palace, and there the full Christian rites performed, complete with prayers, candles and incense. The caliph was present throughout, demonstrating to the highest degree his esteem for Salmawayh. He mourned him sadly. Al-Muʿtaṣim was blessed with a good digestion. Salmawayh had bled him regularly twice a year, administering a laxative afterward, and had put him on a diet from time to time. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, however, wishing to show the caliph something to which he was not accustomed, administered the laxative before bleeding him, explaining, ‘I am afraid that your yellow bile will become agitated.’ But when his patron took the laxative, his blood became fevered and his temperature rose; he lost flesh, fell prey to a growing array of disorders, wasted away and finally died, twenty months after Salmawayh. Al-Muʿtaṣim’s death occurred in the month of Rabīʿ I in the year 227 [January 842]. [8.20.4] The following is taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 7 Shortly after al-Muʿtaṣim had returned from his expedition against the Romans 8 (he had acceded to the caliphate by this time), 9 he said to Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī, 10 ‘Uncle, your affairs have been in a state of confusion since the early days of the disturbance, 11 for while at first you suffered along with everyone else, subsequently you became more particularly a target, with your estates laid waste and encroached upon, because you remained in hiding from the previous caliph 12 for seven years. You imagined that as long as some other misfortune did not befall you first, that would be sufficient protection against him. But in due course the full weight of his animosity became apparent, and the hardships you endured at his hands surpassed all the misfortune that had previously befallen you, 13 so you are worse off than ever. Now, I have been thinking about your situation, and it is clear to me that not a day should go by without my receiving news of you and being informed of what you require for your welfare. To that end, I must designate a servant expressly for the purpose of informing me of your needs. I have thought of two possible candidates. Both of them attend my working meetings and my soirées; indeed, they have access to my presence even in the bedchamber and during my ritual ablutions. Their names are Masrūr Samānah the eunuch 14 and Salmawayh ibn Bunān. You may have whichever of them you wish and make him responsible for seeing to your affairs.’ Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī said that he would rather have Salmawayh, whereupon the Commander of the Faithful had him summoned and instructed him to see to it that messages from Ibrāhīm were conveyed to the caliph at all times. [8.20.5] The account of Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm continues: Once Abū Isḥāq had introduced me to Salmawayh, the time soon came when we were nearly inseparable. The Commander of the Faithful’s departure from Baghdad turned out to be his last. There had been no announcement beforehand that he was setting out for somewhere in particular. However, the people, including some of the Christian clergy, had gathered at the carriage gate to admire the saddle-trappings. The day was Wednesday, seventeen nights having elapsed in the month of Dhū l-Qaʿdah of the year 220 [1 November 835]. The horses were led out. Al-Muʿtaṣim then had the jammāzah camels led out as well. 15 He mounted up, and there was not one of us who did not take it for granted that he would be returning that same day. But then he ordered the clients 16 and captains to accompany him; however, none of his family went with him except al-ʿAbbās ibn al-Maʾmūn and ʿAbd al-Wahhāb ibn ʿAlī. 17 Al-Wāthiq 18 was left behind in Baghdad until he had prayed with the people on the Festival of Sacrifice 19 in the year 220 [5 December 835], and he was then ordered to proceed to al-Qāṭūl. 20 Abū Isḥāq had sent me on some errand to the gate of the Commander of the Faithful, but al-Muʿtaṣim was constantly moving about, now to al-Qāṭūl and the city of al-Qāṭūl, now to Dayr Banī l-Ṣaqr (which in the time of al-Muʿtaṣim and al-Wāthiq was known as al-Ītākhiyyah and in the time of al-Mutawakkil as al-Muḥammadiyyah), 21 and finally to Samarra, where he established his camp and stayed. One day, as I stood at the gate of the camp, who should emerge but Salmawayh ibn Bunān. He told me that the Commander of the Faithful had sent him out to find Sawārtakīn al-Farghānī 22 and to consult his physician in a matter of treatment for an ailment that was currently troubling al-Muʿtaṣim, subject to Salmawayh’s approval. Salmawayh urged me to come with him and return with him afterward, and I did so. As we went along, he said to me, ‘The emir Naṣr ibn Manṣūr ibn Bassām 23 told me this morning that he had been accompanying al-Muʿtaṣim bi-Allāh around this town’ (meaning Samarra). Salmawayh said to me, ‘Naṣr told me that al-Muʿtaṣim had said to him, “Naṣr, it is said that there are people who have selected houses in this town and come to live here. Have you ever heard the like? I wonder what the attraction is. After all, the terrain here is rough and hummocky everywhere, there are numerous hills, and the heat is intense where the stony ground has been baked by the sun. Surely no one would settle here unless he was under compulsion and had no choice, or else was not very particular.”’ Salmawayh said to me, ‘Naṣr ibn Manṣūr went on, “By God, I fear that the Commander of the Faithful is intending to come and live in this town.”’ While Salmawayh was telling me this anecdote about Naṣr, he happened to look toward the east, and at the site of the palace known as al-Maṣīf he saw what must have been upward of a thousand men laying the foundations of a palace. ‘Well, well,’ he said, ‘it would seem that Naṣr ibn Manṣūr was right.’ This was in the year 221, in the month of Rajab [June–July 836]. [8.20.6] In the summer of that year, al-Muʿtaṣim fasted during the month of Ramadan, and then on the ʿĪd al-fiṭr at the end of Ramadan, he gave a breakfast for the people. On the Saturday following, the caliph was cupped in al-Qāṭūl. It so happened that it was the last day of the Christian fast, and Salmawayh ibn Bunān breakfasted with al-Muʿtaṣim. He took the opportunity to ask the caliph’s permission to go to al-Qādisiyyah, 24 where he proposed to spend the remainder of the day and the whole of the night in the church there, to take communion there on Sunday, and then to return to al-Qāṭūl that same day, arriving in time for breakfast. The caliph granted him permission as requested, loaded him with apparel, and gave him musk and many other kinds of incense. He seemed to be in a mood of gloomy dejection. He urged me to come with him to al-Qādisiyyah, and I agreed. We were in the habit, whenever we travelled together, of halting from time to time, sometimes to discuss an issue of literature, sometimes to exchange donnish pleasantries, but on this occasion he would not fall in with my attempts in either line, but rode along deep in thought, muttering something under his breath, with his right hand constantly moving. The thought crossed my mind that he had detected something unfriendly in al-Muʿtaṣim’s behaviour toward him. But then I rejected the idea, recalling that the caliph had granted him permission to travel to al-Qādisiyyah and had given him quantities of clothing and perfumes. I therefore asked him what he was mumbling and thinking about. ‘I remember having heard you relate something that one of the kings of Persia used to say about reason,’ he replied. ‘He maintained that reason had to be uppermost in man. Let me hear it again, would you, and tell me which king it was who said it.’ ‘It was Anūshirwān,’ 25 I said, ‘who held that if reason was not uppermost in a man, whatever was uppermost in him was bound to ruin him.’ ‘The devil,’ exclaimed Salmawayh, ‘that is profoundly true. This prince of ours (meaning al-Wāthiq) has a very retentive memory: he retains everything that he reads, and he has more books read to him than his reason can accommodate. In my view, he has fallen into a bad situation, and I pray God will deliver him from evil.’ His eyes filled with tears. I asked him why he was weeping, and he said, ‘I advised the Commander of the Faithful not to do any drinking last night, because he was to undergo a cupping today, and I wanted him to be in a clean condition when he got up. But Prince Hārūn, 26 Ibn Abī Dāʾūd 27 and ʿAbd al-Wahhāb 28 came by to chat with him. Hārūn fell to denouncing the Testament of Ardashīr ibn Bābak, 29 running over its contents from beginning to end, and I was afraid that he would become the object of envy on his father’s part because of his excellent memory, for the caliph had not been blessed with such a memory himself. I was also afraid that his father would adopt the principle set forth in Ardashīr ibn Bābak’s Testament to the effect that there should be no public proclamation of allegiance to the heir apparent. In addition, I was afraid for him on the grounds of what Ardāshīr says in the matter of the people’s preference for the heir apparent once they are aware of his position, and also because of what Ardāshīr says concerning the risk that the heir apparent may be resented for what his father has done once it becomes known that he is to succeed the latter. By God! I knew, you see, that even a trace of any of this would make his life burdensome, and also that there would never be any proclamation of allegiance to him. That is why I am distressed.’ In the event, it all came about just as Salmawayh had feared. [8.20.7] Yūsuf’s account continues: When Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī wished to see al-Muʿtaṣim about various matters, the caliph sometimes kept him waiting in a fashion that Abū Isḥāq resented. Accordingly, he drafted a letter giving vent to his feelings, gave it to me, and told me to read it to Salmawayh and see what he thought of it. If he deemed it suitable, I should seal it and send it to the caliph, but if the physician regarded the letter as unsatisfactory, I should bring it back. Accordingly, I read it to Salmawayh. When I had finished, he said: Say to him, ‘The treatment you have enjoyed at the hands of al-Maʾmūn and al-Muʿtaṣim (may God empower the latter and have mercy upon the former) should rather incline you to give thanks to God than to come grumbling to me about those two caliphs under any circumstances. You are as favourably placed as heart could wish; you have surpassed the dead, now rival the living! You have been fortunate to the point that you need have no fear of a reversal, and consequently it is inappropriate for you to take umbrage if the caliph slights you because one of your enemies has said something slanderous to him about you, so that he is cross with you for two or three days or so. He will soon recall the importance of family ties and relent, and then your situation will be as satisfactory as ever. There is also a sword of Damocles hanging over you, for which you must be on your guard: it is that you sit with the caliph in his working meetings and soirées with members of his household, his captains, and his leading clients, where he is naturally the object of their eyes and the hope of their hearts. In those meetings and soirées, not a word must escape your lips that does not unequivocally express your support for him. If you were like Ibn Abī Dāʾūd [Duʾād] 30 or one of the secretaries, the caliph would have an easier time of it, for he has absolute discretion in matters relating to persons in that category, inasmuch as they are his servants, whereas in matters relating to a member of his own family, a man who is mature and is closely related to him, it would be unseemly for him not to take the person’s maturity and relationship into account.’ My view is that the letter should not be sent, and that the matter should be passed over altogether, may God fortify him! until such time as he is back in the caliph’s good graces, and when he goes to see him, he should heed my words of warning, for then he will run no risk of retribution or estrangement. The account continues: Accordingly, instead of sending the letter I took it back to Abū Isḥāq. At his house I found Sīmā al-Dimashqī 31 bearing a message from al-Muʿtaṣim informing him that the caliph desired to see him and bidding him ride to the palace forthwith. I told him what had passed between Salmawayh and myself, whereupon he mounted his horse and set off. He followed Salmawayh’s advice, never uttering another word of complaint to the day when he and al-Muʿtaṣim were parted by death. [8.20.8] Yūsuf’s account continues: On one occasion, Salmawayh and I were talking about Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. I went on at length about him, saying that I knew how learned he was. ‘Yūḥannā is a catastrophe for anyone who consults him,’ retorted Salmawayh, ‘and for anyone who relies on his treatment, his extensive book-knowledge, his elegant explanations and misleading descriptions of his patients’ morbid conditions. The beginning of medicine,’ he lectured me, ‘is a knowledge of the scope of the disorder, so that a judicious treatment can be applied, and Yūḥannā is the most ignorant of all God’s creation both as regards the assessment of an illness and as regards the determination of an appropriate treatment. If his patient is feverish, he treats him with cold medicines and excessively cooling foods in an attempt to drive down his temperature, with the result that the patient’s stomach and body become chilled and must be treated with warming medicines and foods. Yūḥannā then proceeds in the same way as he did before, taking excessive measures to counteract the chill, and consequently the patient becomes ill from overheating. In short, his patient is always ill from being either chilled or overheated, and that weakens the body. People consult physicians in order to preserve their health while they are healthy and to help restore Nature when they are ill, and Yūḥannā cannot serve either of those functions, owing to his inability to gauge disease and remedy alike correctly. Such a person cannot call himself a physician.’ [8.20.9] Also from Yūsuf: Salmawayh’s brother, Ibrāhīm ibn Bunān, was once afflicted with a severe case of indigestion after having gorged himself on plums. He was not far from death when his brother, Salmawayh, administered a dose of shahriyārān containing a great deal of scammony. 32 This treatment produced a massive laxative effect, more than might have been expected for someone who had ingested the quantity of shahriyārān that Ibrāhīm had ingested. However, once the shahriyārān had done its work, the patient’s attack of indigestion subsided. ‘Salmawayh,’ I said, ‘I perceive that in treating your brother with a purgative, you adopted the procedure that Yazīd Būr followed when he treated Thumāmah al-ʿAbsī’. 33 ‘I did not follow a procedure,’ he replied, ‘but rather relied on my judgement, exactly as he did, and achieved the same result.’ [8.20.10] Another account from Yūsuf: One day when I had called on Salmawayh and we were recalling the days of the disturbance 34 in the Baghdad, when Muḥammad al-Amīn was caliph, he remarked, ‘It was a benefit from God, in those days, that we lived not far from Bishr and Bashīr ibn al-Samaydaʿ, 35 for with them we were quite safe.’ Then he said to me, ‘Would you care to ride over to Bashīr’s house and visit him? I had despaired of him the day before yesterday, but by yesterday he had recovered.’ I replied that I should be happy to accompany him, and we rode off to see Bashīr. When we had reached the gate of the street in which he lived, we met the physician Būlus ibn Ḥanūn, who is now the physician of the people of Palestine, coming from Bashīr’s house. Salmawayh asked him how Bashīr was doing, and he answered with a word in Syriac meaning ‘he is in a bad way.’ ‘Surely you told me only yesterday that he was better?’ said Salmawayh. ‘Yes,’ replied the other, ‘but that was then; last night he ate a dish of kid brains, and suffered a recurrence of the diarrhoea.’ At this, Salmawayh turned his mount and said, ‘Let us go; Bashīr will not last the night.’ ‘How so?’ I asked, and he explained that Bashīr was subject to stomach ailments. ‘His illness began in his stomach,’ he said, ‘and after many days the disorder has spread to his liver. Now the dish of brains that he has eaten will remain in his stomach and cause everything within it to coagulate, with the result that any food or medicine that he takes will pass through without effect.’ Accordingly, Salmawayh and I went our way without visiting Bashīr, and he was dead before the night was out. [8.20.11] A further account from Yūsuf: After Abū Isḥāq had died, 36 I struck up an acquaintance with Abū Dulaf. 37 Before we became friends, he had had an upset stomach 38 for a matter of fifteen months. His soirées were attended by physicians, for there were a number of them who figured among his regular beneficiaries, including Yūsuf ibn Ṣalībā, Sulaymān ibn Dāwūd ibn Bābān, Yūsuf al-Baṣrī, who was known as ‘the short’, but I do not remember the last part of his name, Būlus ibn Ḥanūn, the physician of Palestine, a son-in-law of his, who was one of the two sons of al-Lajlāj, 39 and al-Ḥasan ibn Ṣāliḥ ibn Bahlah al-Hindī. 40 Abū Dulaf’s soirées were also attended by twenty or so other physicians who were not among his regular beneficiaries. I remember how they used to argue over their host’s malady: some thought that he should be dosed with theriac, others that he should be treated with medicines containing opium, 41 such as ‘mithridatum’ 42 or something similar, but all agreed that the course of treatment should feature diet and emetics every ten days or so, for every time he vomited his condition improved for approximately three days. I stayed with him for ten months, and in all that time I do not recall a single day that I spent doing the work that I was supposed to be doing. A messenger arrived one day suggesting that I should attend one of the soirées and pay attention to the different views expressed by the physicians. The caliph, al-Muʿtaṣim, then ordered Ḥaydar ibn Kāwūs 43 to place Abū Dulaf in charge of the administration of Qazwīn 44 and Zanjān 45 and the surrounding districts, ordered Ibrāhīm ibn al-Buḥturī 46 to delegate responsibility for the land-tax of the district to him, and ordered Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd al-Malik 47 to do the same for its villages. Abū Dulaf, in turn, delegated authority for municipal taxes to his son (meaning Ibn al-Qāsim), and authority for the land-tax and villages to me, and ordered us to set out for that region. I went to see Salmawayh, to take my leave and ask his advice. ‘You are about to leave your native place,’ he said, ‘with a man who has been in a weakened condition for twenty-five months. He will be surrounded by people who have no bonds of kinship with you. They are people of the mountainous region and Isfahan, 48 and most of them are destitute. What if you had to put one of them to the question at the residence? Would you be safe? I fear not, for if something should happen to your master, you would be in an alien land, a captive in the hands of people who were not of your kind. Conversely, to refuse to go after having agreed to do so would not be proper. But ask him to grant you a delay of seven days before your departure, and use that time to keep track of everything he eats and drinks. He should ingest nothing whatever during that time without your being aware of how much it weighs, precisely. Designate someone to weigh all the solid material and urine that comes out of him during that week, day by day, and forward the results to you. Then, at the end of the week, come to me with the weights of all the food, drink and other things that he has taken in and the weight of everything that he has put out.’ I followed these instructions most meticulously, going over the figures until I was quite sure I had them right, and I found that the weight of the waste matter that had come out of him was nearly double the weight of the food and drink that had gone in. When I informed Salmawayh of this, he said, ‘If the weight of what came out had been equal to the weight of what went in, that would have shown that he was not long for this world. How then when the weight of the output was double the weight of the intake? He is a dead man.’ And indeed, a mere ten days or so after this conversation, Abū Dulaf was dead. [8.20.12] The following account is taken from a work by Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī. 49 He quotes his father, as follows: My grandfather, al-Ḥusayn ibn ʿAbd Allāh, and Salmawayh the physician were good friends. My grandfather told me that he had called on Salmawayh at his home on one occasion when he was in the bath. He then emerged, bundled up in clothing and with sweat running down his brow. A servant came to meet him, carrying a small table laden with a roast francolin, some green stuff in a cream-coloured porcelain bowl, three loaves of flatbread, some tamarisk fruits, and some vinegar in a plate. He ate it all, and then called for a quantity of wine amounting to about two dirhams, which he mixed and drank. Finally he washed his hands with water, and then he proceeded to change his clothes, which he perfumed with incense. When he had finished doing all this, he began to speak to me, but I said, ‘Before answering that, I want you to tell me what it is that you have just done.’ ‘I have been treating myself for consumption 50 for thirty years,’ he replied, ‘and in the course of those years I have eaten only what you saw just now: a roast chicken, endive steamed and roasted in almond oil, and precisely this much bread. Upon emerging from my bath, I need to take action to neutralize the heat, as otherwise it would act upon my body and deprive it of some of its humours. Accordingly, I use food to divert it. The heat acts on the food instead, leaving me free for other matters.’ Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Salmawayh, see Sezgin, gas iii , 227; Ullmann, Medizin , 112. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 Son of the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd and successor to another son of Hārūn’s, al-Maʾmūn; r. 218–227/833–842. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muʿtaṣim Bi’llāh’ (C.E. Bosworth). 3 A mid-3rd/9th cent. physician, author of Adab al-ṭabīb ; see Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Levey), (Riyadh edn), 150, and (facs.). 165). 4 ʿĪsā ibn Māssah al-Baṣrī (d. c. 275/888). A prolific medical writer, whose works are preserved only through citations; see gal i:232; Sezgin, gas iii , 257–258; Ullmann, Medizin , 122–123. His biography will be found later in Ch. 8.28 . 5 A Christian physician; his biography will be at Ch. 8.26 . 6 Physician and translator, son of the better-known Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq and, according to iau ( Ch. 9.3 ), nearly as good a translator as his father. His biography will be found below in Ch. 8.30 . For the story, cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 207. 7 See Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . 8 I.e., the Byzantines. This expedition was undertaken in 223/838. 9 He had succeeded five years earlier. 10 A brother of the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). 11 The fitnah , the civil war between the brothers al-Amīn and al-Maʾmūn some years before (194–198/810–813). 12 I.e., al-Maʾmūn. 13 Indeed, in the year 210/825–826 Ibrāhīm’s hiding-place was discovered, and al-Maʾmūn had him imprisoned. However, he was soon released and pardoned. 14 In charge of the treasury in 3rd/9th cent. Samarra. Northedge ( Historical Topography of Samarra , 116) reads the name as Samāna, but ms A seems to have Sumānah. In al-Aghānī (ed. Dār al-Kutub/al-Hayʾah, xix:248) it is Masrūr Summānah. This Masrūr is to be distinguished from Masrūr al-Khādim al-Kabīr, the ‘elder Masrūr’ mentioned by iau in Ch. 8.3.16 , who began his career under al-Rashīd and was the executioner of Jaʿfar ibn Yaḥyā al-Barmakī in 187/803; see al-Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh (Bosworth) 216–217. 15 A jammāzah is a she-camel that can trot at the pace termed jamazā , which acc. to Lane ( Lexicon ) is ‘a gentle trot or run’. 16 Al-mawālī . 17 Unidentified. 18 His son and successor. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Wathiḳ Bi’llāh’ (K.V. Zetterstéen, C.E. Bosworth & E. van Donzel). 19 Yawm al-naḥr , also known as ʿĪd al-aḍḥā : 10 Dhū l-Ḥijjah. 20 A district of Samarra. 21 According to Yāqūt, al-Ītākhiyyah was a city in Kirmān named after the Turkish general Ītākh (or Aytākh), then renamed by al-Mutawakkil after his son Muḥammad, i.e. al-Muḥammadiyyah; see Muʿjam al-buldān , v:65. 22 Unidentified. Given his ethnicity (Farghānā), possibly the Turk Hārūn b. Suwārategin who participated in the assassination of al-Mutawakkil, al-Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh (Kraemer), 179. 23 Grandfather of the 3rd/9th cent. poet and literary man known as Ibn Bassām; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Bassām’ (Ch. Pellat). Naṣr held high office under the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim. 24 Probably the town lying on the east bank of the Tigris, some 13 kilometres southeast of Samarra, rather than the site of the celebrated Muslim victory over the Sasanians at some time between 14/635 and 16/637; the latter was near the later city of Kufa. 25 The late Sasanian ruler, r. 531–579. See ei 2 art. ‘Kisrā’ (M. Morony). This aphorism has also been attributed to Ardashīr, the 3rd cent. founder of the Sasanian dynasty, and others. The Sasanian capital was Ctesiphon (al-Madāʾin in the Arabic sources), approximately 35 kilometres south of present-day Baghdad. 26 I.e. al-Wāthiq. 27 Probably an error for the chief qadi, Ibn Abī Duʾād, who is said to have exercised considerable influence over the caliph. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muʿtaṣim Bi’llāh’ (C.E. Bosworth). 28 This is most likely ʿAbd al-Wahhāb ibn Ibrāhīm al-Imām ibn Abī ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad, governor of Syria in the time of al-Manṣūr and nephew of al-Saffāḥ, see Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh (Leiden ed.), iii:1139 (he is mentioned by al-Maʾmūn next to Ibn Abī Duʾād), Taʾrīkh Reunification (Bosworth), 229 n. 697. 29 The 3rd cent. founder of the Sasanian dynasty (d. 242). The Testament attributed to him, which sets forth the rules governing succession under the Sasanian monarchy, actually dates from the 6th cent. See the Arabic text in al-Ābī, Nathr al-durr , vii:84–107; the passage referred to below is on p. 96. 30 See n. 27 above. 31 Also called Sīmā al-Turkī. He was purchased by al-Muʿtaṣim from the vizier Faḍl ibn Sahl. See al-Ṭabari, Taʾrīkh (Kraemer), 33 n114. Sīmā al-Dimashqī is said to have been one of the leading Turks of Samarra; see ei 2 art. ‘Sāmarrā’ (A. Northedge). 32 For scammony, see Ch. 8.3.6 n 16 above. The compound shahriyārān is unidentified (cf. shahr-i yārān , ‘city of friends’ or the personal name ‘Shahriyār’). 33 The account of the physician Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā ibn Abī Khālid, known as Yazīd Būr, and his patient, the aged Thumāmah al-ʿAbsī, is related in Yazīd’s biography in Ch. 8.13 above. 34 See n. 11 above. 35 Bishr ibn al-Samaydaʿ al-Azdī was the governor of Balad, a city on the Tigris (Ṭabarī, Taʾrīkh (ed. Leiden), iii:779); Bashīr was, presumably, his brother. 36 In Ramadan 224/July 839. 37 Abū Dulaf al-Qāsim ibn ʿĪsā ibn Idrīs, a 2nd–3rd/8th–9th cent. military commander, poet and musician. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḳāsim b. ʿĪsā’ (J.E. Bencheikh). 38 Mabṭūn , a general term for having some gastric or intestinal ailment. 39 There is a biography of a physician named Ibn al-Lajlāj given above in Ch. 8.9 ; this may be the same man. 40 A biography of his father, Ṣāliḥ ibn Bahlah al-Hindī, will be found in Ch. 12.9. 41 Abyūn is a variant of afyūn , opium; see Tibi, Medicinal Use of Opium . 42 A theriac supposedly devised by Mithridates, king of Pontus, in antiquity; see Watson, Theriac & Mithridatum . 43 Ḥaydar ibn Kāwūs, commonly referred to as al-Afshīn, served the caliphs al-Maʾmūn and al-Muʿtaṣim as a talented and successful general, particularly in his campaign against the Khurramī rebel Bābak. See ei 2 art. ‘Afs̲h̲īn’ (W. Barthold & H.A.R. Gibb). 44 A town and district northwest of Tehran and south of Gīlān. 45 A town and district approximately 150 kilometres west of Qazwīn. 46 Probably an error for ibn al-Bakhtārī; see al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh (ed. de Goeje), iii:1167; for his great-grandson Aḥmad ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Aḥmad ibn Ibrāhīm al-Bakhtārī, see al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , vii:81. 47 The vizier Ibn al-Zayyāt; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Zayyāt’ (D. Sourdel). 48 Isfahan lies in the province known as al-Jibāl, which was bounded on the east by the great desert of Khorasan, on the southeast by Fārs, on the south by Khūzistān, on the west and southwest by Azerbaijan, and on the north by the Alburz range. See ei 2 art. ‘D̲ j̲ibāl’ (L. Lockhart). 49 One of iau ’s regular sources; material from him is quoted in, e.g. Ch. 8.4 and Ch. 8.14 . For this anecdote, cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 208. 50 Sill , a general wasting disease. 8.21. Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn 1 [8.21.1] Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn, head of the secretarial family of the Banū Fazārūn, 2 was the personal physician of Ghassān ibn ʿAbbād. 3 [8.21.2] The following account is taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm: 4 After having accompanied Ghassān ibn ʿAbbād to Sind, 5 Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn told me that the governor had stayed in the region from the day of nawrūz 6 to the day of mihrajān , 7 and during the whole of that time had suffered from a craving for some cold meat, without having been able to obtain any. I asked Ibrāhīm why not, and he explained that after the meat had been cooked, it would have become rancid before it was cold, and would have to be discarded. Yūsuf’s account continues: Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn told me that during all his time in Sind, Ghassān ibn ʿAbbād had not found any meat that he liked apart from peacock, but that the flesh of the peacocks of Sind tasted finer than any other kind of meat that he had ever eaten. Moreover, I have heard that same opinion from Ibrāhīm ibn ʿĪsā ibn al-Manṣūr, known as Ibn Nazīhah, 8 who said he had heard it from Ghassān ibn ʿAbbād himself. [8.21.3] The following account is also from Yūsuf: I have heard from Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn that while Ghassān ibn ʿAbbād was in Sind, he heard of a kind of fish, resembling a kid, that was said to live in the river known as the Mihrān. 9 When one of these fish was caught, its head and body down to the vent were coated with clay. Someone then gripped the fish with his hands and held the uncoated part over hot coals and roasted it until it was done to a turn. It was then eaten, or discarded, while the fish was thrown back into the water. Provided its backbone had not been broken, the fish would live and grow new flesh on its bones. Upon hearing this story, Ghassān had a pond dug in his grounds and filled with water and ordered the matter put to the test. Ibrāhīm’s account continues thus: We had some of these fish delivered every day, and we would roast them in the manner described in the story that had been told to us, breaking the fish’s backbone in some cases while leaving it unbroken in others. The former would die, but the latter would not: the flesh grew back and the skin was renewed. However, whereas the original skin of those fish resembles that of a black kid, the new skin of the specimens that we had subjected to our experiments, roasting and removing some of their flesh and then returning them to the water, was more of a whitish colour. [8.21.4] A further account from Yūsuf: I asked Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn about the allegation that the Mihrān River is really the Nile. ‘I have seen the Mihrān,’ he replied, ‘and it empties into the ocean. But learned men of India and Sind have told me that the Nile and the Mihrān take their rise from the same large source, the Mihrān flowing through the land of Sind and ultimately emptying into the ocean, and the Nile traversing the land of India and the entire land of the black races, finally emerging in the land of Nubia, whence for the remainder of its course it runs through the land of Egypt, providing it with water, and finally emptying into the Roman Sea.’ Yūsuf adds that he had heard the account of the single source of the Mihrān and the Nile not only from Ibrāhīm but also from ʿAnbasah ibn Isḥāq al-Ḍabbī, 10 and that the latter liked to tell the story of the fish as well. Footnotes 1 Ibn al-Qifṭī has an entry on Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn (Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 74–75). This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 Cf. ei Three art. ‘Archives and Chanceries: pre-1500, in Arabic’ (M.L.M. van Berkel). 3 Governor of Khorasan under the caliph al-Maʾmūn (r. 198–218/813–833). See ei 2 art. ‘al-Maʾmūn’ (M. Rekaya). 4 See Ch. 8.3.6 . n. 15 above. 5 The lower part of the valley of the Indus, in what is now Pakistan. See ei 2 art. ‘Sind’ (T.W. Haig & C.E. Bosworth). 6 First day of the Persian solar year, which starts with the vernal equinox. See ei 2 art. ‘Nawrūz’ (R. Levy & C.E. Bosworth). 7 An Iranian Mazdaean festival traditionally celebrated around the time of the autumnal equinox. See ei 2 art. ‘Mihragān’ (J. Calmard). 8 An Abbasid prince, grandson of al-Manṣūr. 9 The River Indus. 10 Governor of Daybul, the seaport of Sind, under the caliph al-Wāthiq (r. 227–232/842–847). See ei 2 art. ‘Daybul’ (A.S. Bazmee Ansari). 8.22. Ayyūb ‘al-Abrash’ 1 Ayyūb, known as ‘al-Abrash’, was well versed in the art of medicine. He also understood the principles of translation, having translated a number of Greek works into Syriac and Arabic. Most of his translations are unimpressive. Toward the end of his life, however, he produced some that are of higher quality than his earlier efforts. Footnotes 1 This biography is included in all three versions of the book. Although iau does not include al-Ruhāwī in the name, this must be Ayyūb al-Ruhāwī al-Abrash (d. c. 220/835), otherwise known as Iyob or Job of Edessa. Another short biography of him is given in Ch. 9.7 . Al-abrash (‘the speckled’, or ‘the spotted’) was sometimes used as a euphemism for al-abraṣ (‘the leper’), as in the case of the pre-Islamic Jadhīmah, but whether this meaning was applicable to Job of Edessa is unknown. He was a Christian physician, although his exact confession is unknown, and worked as physician for the Abbasid caliphs and the governor of Khorasan, ‘Abd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq refers to Ayyūb al-Ruhāwī as the translator of thirty-six Galenic works (Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Risālah , index s.v. Aijūb al-Ruhāwī; Galen Translations , s.v. Ayyūb al-Ruhāwī). On this translator, see Roggema, ‘Iyob of Edessa’. For bibliographic references, see Sezgin, gas iii , 230; Ullmann, Medizin , 101. 8.23. Ibrāhīm ibn Ayyūb al-Abrash 1 [8.23.1] The following account is taken from The Practical Ethics of the Physician , by Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 2 who is here quoting ʿĪsā ibn Māssah. 3 In the latter’s own words: I was present at the audience of Ibrāhīm ibn Ayyūb al-Abrash with al-Mutawakkil after he had successfully treated Ismāʿīl, the brother of al-Muʿtazz, 4 and brought about his recovery. His mother, Qabīḥah, 5 suggested to al-Mutawakkil that he should give the physician a present. ‘Why not give him one yourself?’ said the caliph. ‘Whatever you give him, I shall match it.’ Qabīḥah promptly ordered a purse of dirhams to be brought for Ibrāhīm. The caliph did the same. Qabīḥah then ordered another purse, and again the caliph followed suit. They continued in this fashion until sixteen purses were heaped about Ibrāhīm’s feet. At that point, Qabīḥah made a sign to her maid to stop bringing them. ‘Don’t stop,’ Ibrāhīm said to her, ‘I’ll give them back to you.’ ‘Take what God has granted you,’ she replied, ‘I can see that you will never be satisfied.’ ‘By God,’ interposed al-Mutawakkil, ‘if you had continued until the morning, I would have continued to match whatever you had given.’ In the event, the purses were delivered to Ibrāhīm’s house. [8.23.2] According to Thābit ibn Sinān ibn Thābit, 6 when al-Muʿtazz became caliph, he honoured Ibrāhīm ibn al-Abrash above all his other physicians because of the high regard that his mother, Qabīḥah, had always shown him. The caliph was constantly bestowing largesse upon Ibrāhīm. [8.23.3] Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Muʿtazz bi-Allāh was deposed in Samarra and arrested by Ṣāliḥ ibn Waṣīf 7 on Monday with three days remaining in the month of Rajab of the year 255 [11 July 869]. After having spent five days in prison, he was put to death at the time of the afternoon prayer on 2 Shaʿbān of that year [16 July 869], at the age of twenty-three. Footnotes 1 No bibliographic references have been found to Ibrāhīm ibn Ayyūb al-Abrash. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 A mid-3rd/9th-cent. physician whose biography is in Ch. 10.57 ; see Ruhāwī, Adabal-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 150–151 (facs.), 166. 3 A prolific 3d/9th cent. medical writer. See Sezgin, gas iii , 257–258; Ullmann, Medizin , 122–123. 4 Abbasid caliph, r. 252–255/866–869; son of the earlier caliph al-Mutawakkil, but not his successor, the reign of al-Mustaʿīn, a cousin of al-Muʿtazz, having intervened. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muʿtazz Bi’llāh’ (C.E. Bosworth). 5 Al-Mutawakkil’s favourite slave concubine. Her name (‘ugly’, ‘impertinent’) must be some sort of joke, or perhaps it is apotropaic, to ward off the evil eye. See, e.g., Ibn al-Sāʿī, Nisāʾ al-khulafāʾ , 153 n. 106. 6 An eminent physician and historian whose biography will be found at Ch. 10.5 . 7 A Turkish military captain who was the effective ruler in Samarra during the first half of the reign of the caliph al-Muhtadī (r. 255–256/869–870). Among other exploits, he plundered Qabīḥah of all her priceless treasures. However, he was killed soon afterward. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muhtadī’ (K.V. Zetterstéen & C.E. Bosworth). 8.24. Jibrīl ‘the oculist of al-Maʾmūn’ 1 Jibrīl, known as ‘the oculist ( al-kaḥḥāl )’, was the caliph al-Maʾmūn’s eye care attendant. We read in Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm’s Accounts of Physicians 2 that al-Maʾmūn appreciated his very light touch; indeed, the caliph often said that he had never met anyone who could treat an eye so delicately as Jibrīl, with his collyrium sticks, 3 his instruments for dropping in eye medicaments, 4 and his probe. 5 He was the first to attend the caliph every day: as soon as he had performed his morning prayer, Jibrīl would cleanse his eyelids and apply collyrium to his eyes, and he did the same when al-Maʾmūn awoke from his afternoon siesta. For these services, he was paid a thousand dirhams every month. But then suddenly Jibrīl fell from grace. I asked him what had happened, and he explained that al-Ḥusayn, the eunuch, 6 had fallen ill, and that the man’s brother, Yāsir, had been unable to visit him because his duties kept him busy. One day, however, Yāsir happened to be passing the door of the room where the caliph was just as Jibrīl was coming out after having refreshed al-Maʾmūn’s eyelids and applied collyrium to his eyes. Yāsir asked after the caliph, and Jibrīl replied that he was having a nap. Yāsir took advantage of the opportunity to slip away and visit his ailing brother while al-Maʾmūn was asleep. But the caliph awoke before Yāsir had returned, and when he did return, al-Maʾmūn asked him why he was late. ‘I had been informed that you were sleeping, Sire,’ explained Yāsir, ‘so I went to visit my brother, al-Ḥusayn.’ ‘Who told you that I was sleeping?’ asked the caliph, and Yāsir replied that it had been Jibrīl, the eye care attendant. Jibrīl told me, Al-Maʾmūn summoned me and said to me sternly, ‘Jibrīl, did I employ you as my eye care attendant, or as a source of information about what I was doing? Turn in your instruments for applying eye medicaments and your probes 7 and leave the palace at once!’ I reminded him that I had served him well and faithfully. ‘True enough,’ acknowledged the caliph, ‘he may have a stipend of 150 dirhams a month, but he is not to be allowed in here any longer.’ And to the day he died, Jibrīl never attended the caliph al-Maʾmūn again. Footnotes 1 There is a reference to Jibrīl al-Kaḥḥāl in Ibn al-Qifṭī ( Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 152), an account that is nearly identical with that of iau ; see also Ibn al-ʿIbrī, Bar Hebraeus, Mukhtaṣar (Beirut edn.), 240. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 A well-known historian and one of iau ’s favourite sources, author of the Akhbār al-aṭibbāʾ . See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Dāya’ (F. Rosenthal) and Ch. 8.3.6 . n. 15 . 3 Marāwid , small probes for applying collyrium to the eyelids. 4 Makāḥil (pl. of mukḥulah ), instruments for dropping or blowing into the eye a collyrium or eye powder; see Dozy, Supplément , ii:456. 5 Dastaj , cf. Persian dastak , ‘little hand’, in this context apparently meaning a small probe; Dozy, Supplément , i:441. 6 This person is mentioned in various other sources, including al-Ṭabarī, Tārīkh , the Aghānī , etc., although none of them gives a lineage or dates for him. 7 Amyāl , pl. of mīl , the common term for any type of probe used in applying medicaments. 8.25. Māsawayh Abū Yūḥannā 1 [8.25.1] The following account is taken from Pethion the Translator: 2 Māsawayh worked at the hospital in Gondēshāpūr, where he pounded medical ingredients. He did not know how to read so much as a single letter of any language. He could, however, diagnose and treat various disorders, and he could distinguish effective medicines from ineffective ones. The physician Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ 3 took him under his wing and treated him generously. In particular, when Māsawayh became infatuated with a slave-girl who belonged to Dāwūd ibn Sarābīyūn, 4 Jibrīl bought her for eight hundred dirhams and gave her to his protégé. She subsequently bore him his two sons, Yūḥannā and Mīkhāʾīl. [8.25.2] The following account is taken from The Practical Ethics of the Physician , by Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 5 who is here quoting ʿĪsā ibn Māssah. 6 In the latter’s own words: Māsawayh Abū Yūḥannā was a trainee at the Gondēshāpūr hospital for thirty years. When he heard of Jibrīl’s appointment as personal physician to the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd, he said, ‘Here Abū ʿĪsā [Jibrīl] has risen to the stars, while we here at the hospital are never going to get any further.’ Jibrīl was responsible for the hospital, and when he heard of the younger man’s remark he had Māsawayh dismissed and turned out and his salary discontinued. Finding himself without resources, Māsawayh went to Baghdad, intending to grovel and offer his apologies to Jibrīl. He haunted the physician’s door incessantly, but was never invited to enter; when Jibrīl rode by, Māsawayh would utter blessings upon him and implore his pity, but the great man never spoke to him. Finally, confronted with the prospect of starvation, he went to the Christian quarter known as the dār al-Rūm , on the eastern side of the city, and asked the priest there to give him sanctuary in the church. ‘It may be that some generous soul will enable me to return to my native place,’ he said, ‘for Abū ʿĪsā [Jibrīl] bears a grudge against me and will not speak to me.’ ‘You spent thirty years at the hospital,’ said the priest, ‘surely you know something about the art of medicine?’ ‘I do, by God,’ replied Māsawayh, ‘I can dose a patient with physic, cure a sore eye, bind up wounds, or whatever is required.’ At this, the priest went and brought out a chest of medical supplies and gave it to Māsawayh, to enable him to treat patients, and set him down at the entrance to the women’s quarters in the palace of al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ, the vizier of Hārūn al-Rashīd. 7 There he sat, occasionally earning a trifle, until by degrees he found he was making a very fair living. [8.25.3] It so happened that a eunuch in the employ of al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ came to be afflicted with an eye complaint. Jibrīl summoned oculists to treat him, and they plied him with various remedies, but to no avail: his pain grew worse and worse, so that he was unable to sleep. One morning, as he emerged from the palace, sleepless and suffering, half out of his mind with pain and in a foul temper, he caught sight of Māsawayh and shouted at him, ‘What are you doing here, O shaykh? If you are any good at your trade, make me better; otherwise, be off with you!’ ‘I am good at my trade, sir,’ replied Māsawayh, ‘second to none.’ ‘Come inside with me, then,’ said the eunuch, ‘and you can treat this eye of mine.’ Māsawayh accompanied him into the palace, and there he everted the man’s eyelid and applied collyrium to it, dripped one kind of medication on to his head, and made him sniff another. The patient became calm and fell asleep. The next morning, he sent Māsawayh a bowl with a loaf of fine bread, a kid, a chicken, sweetmeats, and a number of dinars and dirhams in it, together with a message: ‘This is to be your daily allowance. The dirhams and dinars are to be your monthly stipend from me.’ Māsawayh was so overcome that tears came into his eyes. The messenger, however, thought that he was weeping because he did not consider his reward adequate, and said to him consolingly, ‘Oh, don’t worry, he’ll give you more than that, he’ll treat you generously.’ ‘Not at all,’ replied Māsawayh, ‘I shall be quite content with this, if he provides it every day.’ The messenger went back into the palace and informed the eunuch of this exchange, much to the surprise of the latter as his eye recovered under the physician’s care. [8.25.4] Only a few days later, it was al-Faḍl himself who was suffering from an eye complaint. Jibrīl summoned oculists to treat him, and they dosed him with a number of remedies, but without effect. Then one night the eunuch smuggled Māsawayh into the palace. He applied collyrium to the vizier’s eye for a third of the night, then gave him a purgative. After this treatment, al-Faḍl felt better. When Jibrīl came in the next day, the vizier said to him, ‘Do you know, Abū ʿĪsā, there is a man here named Māsawayh who is the most skilful and knowledgeable oculist you can imagine.’ ‘Who is it?’ asked Jibrīl, ‘you don’t mean the fellow who has been sitting outside the gate there?’ ‘The very man,’ said al-Faḍl. ‘I know him,’ sneered Jibrīl, ‘I used to give him menial tasks to do, 8 but he proved useless, so I gave him the sack. And now he has presumed to set up as a physician, he who has never practised medicine in his life! If you agree, may I suggest that you summon him while I am here.’ Jibrīl imagined that when Māsawayh came in he would remain standing and behave respectfully in his presence, but when al-Faḍl sent for him he entered, greeted the company, and sat down facing Jibrīl, quite at his ease. ‘Turned physician, then, have we, Māsawayh?’ said Jibrīl. ‘I have never ceased to be a physician,’ replied Māsawayh calmly, ‘for I have served at the hospital for thirty years. And you presume to speak to me in such terms!’ Jibrīl, alarmed at the possibility that the younger man might go on to say more, made haste to take his leave, greatly disconcerted. Al-Faḍl then gave orders that Māsawayh was to be paid a monthly salary of six hundred dirhams and fodder for two horses, and that accommodation for five slave-boys should be placed at his disposal. The vizier also ordered him to bring his family from Gondēshāpūr, giving him an ample sum of money to cover the cost of the move. Accordingly, he brought his household to Baghdad. His son Yūḥannā was very young at the time. [8.25.5] Shortly thereafter, it was the turn of Hārūn al-Rashīd to suffer from a painful eye complaint. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ said al-Faḍl to his master, ‘my physician, Māsawayh, is as skilled an oculist as anyone could imagine,’ and he told the caliph the whole story of his eunuch’s and his own experiences. ‘Have him brought in,’ said al-Rashīd, and the vizier had Māsawayh sent for. When he appeared, the caliph asked him whether he knew anything about medicine besides the treatment of eyes. ‘Indeed I do, O Commander of the Faithful,’ Māsawayh replied, ‘it would hardly be possible for me not to, since I have served the patients at the hospital for the past thirty years.’ The caliph bade him approach, and Māsawayh looked at his eyes. ‘What we want just now is a cupper,’ he said. After al-Rashīd’s legs had been cupped, Māsawayh dripped medication into his eyes, and two days later the caliph was better. He ordered that the physician should be paid a stipend of two thousand dirhams a month, together with twenty thousand dirhams a year for incidental expenses, fodder for his mounts, and accommodation. Māsawayh joined Jibrīl and the other physicians as a member of the caliph’s medical staff. At that time he was on a footing of equality with Jibrīl as far as attendance on the caliph went; Jibrīl, however, was wealthier, for he enjoyed a stipend of ten thousand dirhams monthly and a hundred thousand dirhams yearly for incidentals, besides frequent gifts and estates in fee. 9 [8.25.6] After a time, a sister of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s, named Bānū, became ill. Jibrīl subjected her to a variety of treatments, but her condition did not improve, much to the caliph’s distress. One day, al-Rashīd reflected that he remembered having heard Māsawayh say that he had served the patients at the hospital and knew how to treat various conditions. Resolving to bring him in to treat his sister in the hope that she would find relief at his hands, he sent for both Jibrīl and Māsawayh. Māsawayh asked his colleague to describe the lady’s illness and how he had been treating her, and Jibrīl gave him a full account. ‘I should say you have managed the case correctly and applied appropriate treatments,’ said Māsawayh, ‘but I must see her myself.’ Accordingly, the caliph ordered that both of them should be admitted to her presence. Māsawayh, accompanied by al-Rashīd and Jibrīl, entered the chamber where Bānū was lying, looked at her attentively, and took her pulse. The three of them then left her, and once they were out of the room, Māsawayh said to the caliph, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, may God grant you long life, this woman is going to die the day after tomorrow, some time between three hours after sunset and midnight.’ ‘He is wrong, O Commander of the Faithful,’ exclaimed Jibrīl, ‘she will recover and live.’ At this, Hārūn al-Rashīd gave orders that Māsawayh should be confined to an apartment in the palace. ‘I intend to get to the bottom of this,’ he said, ‘and so I have put him on notice, for I have never had cause to doubt my head physician’s knowledge.’ But when the time came that Māsawayh had named, the princess died. After her funeral, Hārūn al-Rashīd’s first concern was to have Māsawayh sent for. He questioned the physician and was filled with admiration at his answers. His native language was Persian, but his judgement in the matter of the treatment of disease was sound, and he possessed extensive experience. Accordingly, the caliph promoted him to a position of equality with Jibrīl in respect of salary, accommodation, fodder and standing, and he also took an interest in the physician’s son, Yūḥannā: he spared no expenditure for the young man’s benefit, with the result that in due course he won distinction and renown. [8.25.7] The following account is taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 10 I visited Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ in al-ʿAlth 11 in the year 215/830, for in that year he had accompanied al-Maʾmūn upriver, and at this time the caliph was staying at the convent known as the Women’s Convent. 12 Jibrīl was ill just then, and I found Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh with him discussing his illness, while Jibrīl nodded approval at the young man’s attentiveness, ready replies and descriptive skill. Then Jibrīl raised the matter of his conversion, asking me to think about it and let him know what the prudent course of action would be. Yūḥannā stood up as soon as we began to discuss conversion, and once he had left the ḥarrāqah 13 where we were, Jibrīl said to me, ‘No need for you to give any thought to the matter of my conversion, I remember perfectly well what you and others have said to me about religion. No, I only brought it up in order to get rid of Yūḥannā. What I really want to ask you about is something that I have heard about him. Tell me honestly, have you ever heard him say that he knows more about medicine than Galen ever did?’ I assured him most earnestly that I had never heard Yūḥannā make any such claim. Before we had had time to say anything more, I saw ḥarrāqahs sailing downstream in the direction of Baghdad. Al-Maʾmūn himself set off that day, which was a Thursday, and we were in Baghdad by Saturday morning. The entire party entered the city, except for Abū l-ʿAbbās ibn al-Rashīd, 14 who stopped at the place known as al-Qalāʾīn, on the western side of Baghdad, across the river from the house of al-Faḍl ibn Yaḥyā 15 in the Shammāsiyyah Gate quarter; 16 Abū l-ʿAbbās ibn al-Rashīd came to own part of it later, during the caliphate of al-Muʿtaṣim. I, along with a number of persons whose houses were near the Baradān Bridge and the al-Mahdī Canal, 17 wanted to call on Abū l-ʿAbbās, but did not care to weary ourselves by going to the bridge and then returning all the way to al-Qalāʾīn, that being a considerable distance. Instead, we would go to al-Faḍl ibn Yaḥyā’s palace, just across from the place where Abū l-ʿAbbās was encamped, and wait there for a boatman, for boatmen would bring their craft 18 in to that spot and ferry us across the Tigris. Three days after al-Maʾmūn had reached Baghdad, I chanced to meet Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh aboard one of these vessels as we were on our way to call on Abū l-ʿAbbās. Yūḥannā asked me whether I had seen Jibrīl lately, and I replied that the last time I had seen him had been the time when we had all been together in al-ʿAlth. Then I added, ‘He had heard a vile report about you.’ ‘What was that?’ he asked, and so I told him what Jibrīl had said, that he had heard that Yūḥannā claimed to know more about the art of medicine than Galen himself. ‘May God curse the slanderer who said such a thing about me,’ he exclaimed, ‘for whoever he was, he spoke falsely and unscrupulously.’ This relieved the anxiety I had been feeling, and I told Yūḥannā that I would pass his assurance on to Jibrīl and thereby relieve him as well from the distress that the original report had caused him. ‘I beg you to do so,’ he replied, ‘and tell him this, which is what I actually said, rather than the distorted version that he heard.’ ‘Well?’ I said. ‘All I said,’ he answered, ‘was that, had Hippocrates and Galen lived to hear what I have to say about the art of medicine, they would have prayed to their Lord for all their other senses, sight, smell, taste and touch, to be transmuted into the sense of hearing and added to their original sense of hearing, the better to attend to my wisdom and magisterial exposition. Now, I adjure you by God, tell him that directly from me.’ I implored him not to make me do it, but he insisted. [8.25.8] Accordingly, I told Jibrīl what Yūḥannā had said. Jibrīl had left his sickbed that very morning, his health restored, but the message I had brought him made him so full of anger and displeasure that I was really in fear of a relapse. He began to curse himself. ‘This,’ he shouted, ‘is what comes of bestowing a benefit where it was not deserved! This is what comes of providing support and guidance for a base individual, and giving access to the noble art of medicine to one who was unfit to practise it!’ Then he asked me whether I knew how it had all come about in the matter of Yūḥannā and his father. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘I am not familiar with the story.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘Hārūn al-Rashīd had assigned me responsibility for a hospital, and I decided to bring in Dahishtak, the superintendent of the Gondēshāpūr hospital, to take charge of my hospital. However, he demurred on the grounds that he would not be directly in the employ of the government and thus would not be assured of drawing a regular salary. Managing the Gondēshāpūr hospital, in collaboration with his brother’s son Mīkhāʾīl, was more satisfactory from that point of view. The Catholicos, Timothy, 19 urged me to excuse Dahishtak and his nephew, and in the end I did so.’ ‘Dahishtak then said to me, “I should like to offer you a present in return for your kindness in excusing me. It is a present of substantial value, and if you accept it, you will not regret having done so, for it will be very useful to you at your new hospital.” I asked him what his present was, and he explained that it was one of his own men. “He used to pound medical ingredients for us when he was young,” he said. “No one knows who his father was, and he seems to have no family. He has lived at the hospital for forty years; he must be fifty years old by this time, perhaps even older. He cannot read so much as a letter of any language, but he knows every ailment there is, and he also knows what medicines should be used to treat any given disorder. He is the most knowledgeable of God’s creation in assessing medicines, for he can infallibly select good ones and reject bad ones. I am making you a present of him. Assign him to whichever of your pupils you like, then make that pupil superintendent of your hospital; you will find that it will be better run than would be the case if you had appointed me superintendent.” I replied that I should be delighted to accept his present.’ ‘Dahishtak then returned home and sent his man to me. He was shown in, wearing a monk’s habit. Upon examination, he appeared to be just as Dahishtak had described him. I asked him what his name was, and he replied that it was Māsawayh. At that time I was serving Hārūn al-Rashīd as his personal physician, while Dāwūd ibn Sarābīyūn was personal physician to Umm Jaʿfar. 20 As it happened, the house where Māsawayh lived was a considerable distance from mine, but not far from Dāwūd’s. Dāwūd was a light-hearted, frivolous sort of fellow, and Māsawayh was subject to the weaknesses of the lower orders, so he revelled in the pleasures to which Dāwūd introduced him. It was not long before he came to me dressed quite differently, all in white. I asked him how he was doing, and he informed me that he was in love with a slave-girl who belonged to Dāwūd ibn Sarābīyūn, a Slav girl, he said, named Risālah. Would I buy her for him? I did buy the girl, for eight hundred dirhams, and gave her to Māsawayh, and she subsequently bore him two sons, Yūḥannā and his brother. Nor was that the end of the matter: having bought this Risālah for him, out of respect for his desire for offspring from her, I went on to treat his children as though they had been my own flesh and blood. I furthered their advancement and gave them precedence over the sons of noble practitioners and learned scholars of this profession. I saw to it that Yūḥannā was elevated to a position of responsibility, making him superintendent of the hospital and chief among my pupils. And now he repays me with this absurd allegation, which none can hear without cursing the one who uttered it, thereby giving vent to his own self-importance and talking arrant rubbish! It was precisely because of this sort of pernicious nonsense from jumped-up persons of the lower orders that the Persians strictly prohibited people from engaging in occupations other than those that had been practised by their fathers and grandfathers. To God we turn for help!’ Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Māsawayh Abū Yūḥannā, see Sezgin, gas iii , 229. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 A translator and historian whom iau quotes frequently; see Ch. 8.1.1 and a brief notice on him in Ch. 9.16 . 3 Christian physician who served as personal physician to the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd. His biography is at Ch. 8.3 . 4 One of the personal physicians of the Abbasid caliph al-Hādī (r. 169–170/785–776), mentioned in Ch. 8.2 above. 5 See Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.) 152–153 (facs.) 167–168. 6 For this prolific 3rd/9th-cent. medical writer, see Ch. 8.28 . 7 And also to the earlier caliph, al-Amīn. Al-Faḍl ibn al-Rabīʿ was the son of al-Manṣūr’s chamberlain, al-Rabīʿ ibn Yūnus. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Faḍl b. al-Rabīʿ’ (D. Sourdel). 8 Literally, ‘I used to employ him as a ploughman’. 9 Iqṭāʿāt . For a discussion of the meaning of this term, see ei 2 art. ‘Iḳṭāʿ’ (Cl. Cahen). 10 A source upon whom iau frequently draws; see Ch. 8.3.6 n 15 . 11 A town north of Baghdad, between ʿUkbarā and Samarra, on what was then the east bank of the Tigris (the river has changed its course since then). See ei 2 art. ‘ʿAlt̲h̲’ (G. Awad). 12 There were two convents near al-ʿAlth, one known as Dayr al-ʿAlth, and one named the Dayr al-ʿAdhārā (‘monastery of the virgins’), which may be the one meant here (see al-Shābushtī, Diyārāt , 96–106, and 107–148 respectively). According to al-Shābushtī, the Dayr al-ʿAdhārā received its name because it hosted a community of ‘virgins’ who lived in seclusion ( mutabattilāt ʿadhārā ). Al-Shābushtī collects anecdotes of several caliphs involving this monastery, including al-Maʾmūn ( Diyārāt , 144–148), but they are not related to the story reported by iau . Caliphal visits to Christian monasteries, regarded as loci amoeni , and love stories involving the daughters of the monks (who eventually converted to Islam) were a common topic in the genre of diyārāt literature, see Sizgorich, ‘Monks and their daughters’. 13 Approximately what we would call a yacht. 14 Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad ibn Hārūn al-Rashīd, one of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s eleven sons. 15 Of the Barmakid family; see ei 2 art. ‘al-Barāmika’ (D. Sourdel). 16 A very upmarket quarter in the eastern part of Baghdad where the Barmakids lived. 17 One of the major canals serving the eastern side of Baghdad; see Le Strange, Collected Works , i:280. 18 Zubaydiyyāt . They may have taken their name from Zubaydah, Hārūn’s wife. 19 Timothy I (d. 207/823), was patriarch of the Church of the East in 780–823; a prolific theologian and translator of Aristotle, he is also known for his theological debate with the caliph al-Mahdī; see Heimgartner, ‘Timothy i ’. 20 Ghaḍīḍ, known as Umm Jaʿfar, was one of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s favourite concubines, and an umm walad of his, i.e. the mother of one or more of his children whom he had recognized. See also Ch. 7.8.2 . 8.26. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh 1 [8.26.1] Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh was a sagacious, learned physician, experienced in the art of medicine as well as a good stylist and the author of well-known treatises. He commanded the respect and enjoyed the favour of caliphs and kings. [8.26.2] Isḥāq ibn ʿAlī al-Ruhāwī, 2 in his book The Practical Ethics of the Physician , reports: The physician ʿĪsā ibn Māssah 3 said: ‘Abū Zakariyyā Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh told me that the practice of medicine had brought him a million dirhams and, after saying that, he lived another three years’. Al-Wāthiq 4 was avidly and tenaciously attached to Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. One day Yūḥannā was drinking in his company when a cupbearer brought him a drink that was not pure and sweet, as was customary. This was a practice of cupbearers when they were insufficiently rewarded. When Yūḥannā drank the first cup he said: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, when it comes to tastes, I am very knowledgeable and expert, but the taste of this drink is unlike that of any others’. The Commander of the Faithful was angry with the cupbearers, and announced: ‘They serve my physicians, and in my council gathering, with a drink like this!’ Because of this he ordered one hundred thousand dirhams to be given to Yūḥannā at once, and he told the chief steward, Samānah, to take him the money within the hour. In the afternoon, he asked Samānah if the money had been handed over. He replied ‘Not yet,’ and so the caliph doubled the sum. After the evening prayer he inquired about it again and was told that the money was not yet delivered. So he called Samānah and ordered him to send three hundred thousand dirhams. Samānah said to the treasurer: ‘Send out Yūḥannā’s money this minute or nothing will be left in the treasury.’ So the money was dispatched at once. [8.26.3] Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān 5 says: Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh was a Syriac Christian. Hārūn al-Rashīd entrusted him with the responsibility of translating ancient books that he had found in Ancyra, 6 Amorion, 7 and other Byzantine cities captured by the Muslims. Yūḥannā served Hārūn, al-Amīn, and al-Maʾmūn and continued in that capacity until the reign of al-Mutawakkil. Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān also says: The rulers of the Banū Hāshim (that is, the Abbasid caliphs) would not take any food unless he was present. He would stand near them with earthenware vessels holding sweets, digestives, and cooked hot dishes that strengthen the innate heat during winter, and in the summer with cooling beverages and sweets. [8.26.4] Ibn al-Nadīm, the bookdealer in Baghdad, says: Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh served as physician to al-Maʾmūn, al-Muʿtaṣim, al-Wāthiq, and al-Mutawakkil. 8 [8.26.5] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm says: 9 The teaching sessions of Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh attracted the largest audience of any I have seen in the city of Baghdad, whether conducted by a physician or theologian or philosopher, for every type of educated person assembled there. Yūḥannā was endowed with a great capacity for being funny, which was part of the reason for the large gatherings. His impatience and irascibility surpassed even those of Jabrāʾīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, his sharpness expressing itself in droll statements. His teaching was especially enjoyable in the sessions when he examined phials of urine. I, along with Ibn Ḥamdūn ibn ʿAbd al-Ṣamad ibn ʿAlī, known as Abū l-ʿIbar Ṭarad, 10 and Isḥāq ibn Ibrāhīm ibn Muḥammad ibn Ismāʿīl, known as Bayḍ al-Baghl (Mule’s Balls), took upon ourselves to memorise his witticisms. I made a pretence of studying the books on logic under his guidance, while the other two pretended to be his pupils studying Galen’s books on medicine. Yūsuf also says: One of the witticisms I recall from the time when he was examining [urine phials] is this: A woman arrived and said to him: ‘Such and such a woman, and another, and yet another, send their greetings to you.’ He answered her: ‘I am better acquainted with the names of the people of Constantinople and Amorion (in the lands held by the Byzantines) than I am with those you have just named. Now show me your urine so that I can examine it for you!’ Yūsuf continues: And I remember the following: A man complained to him about an illness whose remedy was bloodletting, and Ibn Māsawayh advised him to that effect. But the man said that he was not accustomed to bloodletting, to which he replied: ‘I do not think that there is anyone used to it while in his mother’s womb. Similarly, you were not accustomed to the illness before you became ill. Now that this has happened to you, you have to choose between enduring whatever illness nature has inflicted on you, or becoming accustomed to bloodletting so as to recover from it.’ [8.26.6] Yūsuf also relates: A man complained to him about scabies 11 that afflicted him. So Ibn Māsawayh directed him to draw blood from the median cubital vein 12 of the right arm, but he informed him that he had already done so. Then Ibn Māsawayh advised him to bleed the median cubital vein of the left arm as well, but the man informed him that he had also done that. So he ordered him to drink a decoction, but he said ‘I already did’. Then Ibn Māsawayh ordered him to drink a stomach medicine aiding digestion, 13 and again the man informed him that he had done it. Then he prescribed drinking cheese-water for a week and churned cow’s milk for two weeks, but yet again the man informed him that he had done it. Ibn Māsawayh then said to him: ‘Nothing remains of the prescriptions given by physicians that you have not already done. There is one thing left, however, which was not mentioned by Hippocrates or Galen but which we have observed through experience can work, so try it, for I hope that it might bring about your recovery, God willing.’ ‘What is it?,’ the man asked. Ibn Māsawayh said: ‘Buy two sheets of paper and cut both of them into small pieces. Then write on each piece of paper “ May God have mercy upon those who pray for the health of the afflicted ”. Take half of them to the eastern mosque in Baghdad and the other half to the western mosque, and distribute them at the Friday gatherings. I hope God will answer their prayers, as no medical treatment has helped you.’ Yūsuf also recalls: I was present when a priest of the church in which Yūḥannā received communion spoke to him and complained of indigestion. Yūḥannā told him to use a stomach-medicine made of nutmegs mixed with other things, 14 but he said he had already done that. So Yūḥannā said to use cumin, 15 and the man said he had eaten great quantities of it. ‘Take al-miqdādhīqūn ’. 16 ‘I have consumed a jar of it.’ ‘Then take al-marūsiyā !’ 17 ‘I’ve used tons of it.’ Then Yūḥannā got angry and said to him: ‘If you wish to recover, then convert to Islam, for it is good for the stomach!’ [8.26.7] Yūsuf also says: Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh was afflicted by such a severe illness that his family despaired for him. Now the Christian custom when presented with someone for whom there is no hope is to have a group of monks, priests, and deacons read aloud around the bedside, and this was done for Yūḥannā. But Yūḥannā recovered while the monks were reciting, and so he said to them: ‘O offspring of wickedness, what are you doing in my house?’ They answered: ‘We were praying to our Lord to give you good health.’ But Yūḥannā replied to them: ‘One drop of rose-perfume is better that the prayers of all the people of Christendom from the beginning to the day of Resurrection. Get out of my house!’ And so they left. Yūsuf again: During the winter, a merchant complained to Yūḥannā in my presence of severe itching ( jarab ). Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh said: ‘This is not the right season for curing your illness. The treatment for this comes during the spring, when you must not eat anything spoilt, no fresh or salted fish, either small or large, and you must avoid all hot spices and herbs as well as dairy products.’ The man replied: ‘These are things that I simply cannot abstain from eating.’ Yūḥannā exclaimed: ‘If that is the case, then go on eating them and scratching your body, for if the Messiah came to you alone, you would not have benefited from his blessing, in view of your self-confessed greed!’ [8.26.8] Yūsuf adds: 18 The Christians censured him for taking concubines. They said to him: ‘You have transgressed our religion, even though you are a deacon. Either you follow our code of conduct and confine yourself to one woman and remain our deacon, or you remove yourself from the office of deacon and take any number of concubines you like.’ To which he replied: ‘It is true that in one passage we are commanded not to take two women or two garments. 19 But whoever made the Catholicos, that motherfucker, 20 more entitled to take twenty garments than the wretched Yūḥannā to take four concubines? So go tell your Catholicos that if he follows the rules of his religion, then we shall follow them along with him, but if he transgresses them, then we shall as well.’ Yūsuf also says: 21 Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl used to joke a great deal with Yūḥannā. 22 One day while we were in al-Muʿtaṣim’s army camp in Madāʾin 23 in the year 220/835, Bukhtīshūʿ said to Yūḥannā, during one of Abū Isḥāq’s 24 soirées: ‘O you, Abū Zakariyyā, my brother through my father’. Yūhannā then said to Abū Isḥāq: ‘O emir, be my witness to his acknowledgement of this, for, by God, I will take half his father’s inheritance’. At which Bukhtīshūʿ responded: ‘The offspring of adultery cannot inherit or bequeath, and Islam has prescribed stoning 25 for the adulterer’. At this, Yūḥannā was silent, for he had no answer. He also relates: The house of (his father-in-law) al-Ṭayfūrī was in the Christian Quarter in the eastern part of Baghdad, next to the house of Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. Al-Ṭayfūrī had a son called Dāniyal who had been a good student of medicine, but then became a monk. The son came to Baghdād upon hearing of his father’s illness or something of the sort. Yūḥannā owned a peacock which used to perch on the wall between his house and al-Ṭayfūrī’s. Dāniyal arrived in Baghdād on a night during the month of August, a time of great heat and intense sultriness. Whenever the heat of the night oppressed the peacock, it screeched. The screeching woke Dāniyāl, who was clad in a monk’s woollen robe, and he tried several times to drive the peacock off, but it did no good. So Dāniyal raised his iron bar, hit the peacock on the head and killed it. Yūḥannā knew nothing of this until he went out riding and came back to happen by chance upon his peacock dead at the door of his house. He started swearing vengeance on its killer, when Dāniyal came out and said to him: ‘Do not vilify the killer, for I am the one who killed it, and I owe you several peacocks in its stead.’ Yūḥannā replied, in my presence: ‘I don’t like a monk with a huge cock and balls as big as a camel’s hump!’, 26 although he said that using more foul language. Dāniyal answered him: ‘Likewise, I don’t like a deacon who has several women, and whose chief woman’s name is Qarāṭīs – for it is a Byzantine name, not Arabic, and for Christians the name Qarāṭīs means a woman who makes a cuckold of her husband, 27 and a woman cannot do that unless she commits adultery.’ Yūhannā was ashamed and entered his house defeated. [8.26.9] Yūsuf relates as well: 28 While in Egypt, Aḥmad ibn Hārūn al-Sharābī told me that the caliph al-Mutawakkil, during the caliphate of [his predecessor] al-Wāthiq, recounted to him that Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh had accompanied al-Wāthiq to a stone bench 29 he had alongside the Tigris River. Al-Wāthiq had a fishing rod with a hook that he cast into the Tigris in order to catch fish, but he caught nothing. He turned to Yūḥannā, who was on his right, and said: ‘Get away from my right side, you ill-omened man.’ Yūḥannā replied: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, do not say absurd things ( muḥāl ). Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh is from Khūzistān, and his mother was Risālah the slave, bought for eight hundred dirhams. Good fortune brought him up to be the fellow-drinker of caliphs, their participant in evening conversations, and their close companion – so much so that the riches of the world overwhelmed him, beyond all his expectations. It is absurd ( muḥāl ) to say that such a person is ill-omened. However, if the Commander of the Faithful wishes, I can tell him who really is an unlucky person.’ Al-Wathīq said ‘And who is such a person?’, to which Yūḥannā replied: ‘He who is the descendant of four caliphs, to whom God entrusted the caliphate but who forsook its palaces and gardens to sit on a twenty-cubit-square stone bench alongside the Tigris River, 30 unprotected from the gale-winds that might drown him, in order to be like the poorest and lowest in the world, namely the fisherman.’ Aḥmad ibn Hārūn [al-Sharābī] told me that al-Mutawakkil told him that he observed the speech to have had an effect, even though al-Wathīq stayed where he was. Yūsuf adds: Aḥmad ibn Hārūn also told me that on the same day and while sitting on this same stone bench, al-Wāthiq said to Yūḥannā: ‘O Yūḥannā, are you not astonished at this peculiar thing?’ Yūhannā asked: ‘What do you mean?’, and al-Wāthiq replied: ‘The fisherman waits for about an hour and then catches fish worth a dinar or so, while I sit here from morning to night and do not catch fish worth even one dirham.’ Yūhannā answered: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, your astonishment is misplaced. God gives the fisherman his living through catching fish, for this is the food for his family; the livelihood of the Commander of the Faithful, however, derives from the caliphate, and so he is not in need of any fish for a living. Were his living dependant on fishing, the fish would come to him the way they do to the fisherman.’ Yūsuf also reports: Ibrāhīm ibn ʿAlī, 31 the physician of Aḥmad ibn Ṭūlūn, told me that he was once in Yūḥannā’s antechamber awaiting his return from the sultan’s palace. It was at the time when ʿĪsā ibn Ibrāhīm ibn Nūḥ ibn Abī Nūḥ, 32 the scribe of al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān, had become a Muslim. Ibrāhīm said: When Yūḥannā returned, I stood up, along with a group of monks, but he shouted at us: ‘Get out of my house, you offspring of adultery! Go and convert to Islam, for the Messiah has just been converted to Islam by al-Mutawakkil’. [8.26.10] Yūsuf also relates: The Nubian chief Jarjah ibn Zakariyyā arrived at Samarra in the month of Ramadān in the year 221 [18 August–17 September 836], and he presented to the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim some gifts, among which there were male monkeys ( qiradah ). 33 I was with Yūḥannā on the second day of the month of Shawwāl in that year [18 September 836], and I was rebuking him for not being present at court, for I had seen that the physicians Salmawayh 34 and Bukhtīshūʿ and al-Ḥarīsh 35 had all come, when one of the Turkish servants came to us, and with him was one of the monkeys which the ruler of Nubia had brought as presents. I do not recall ever seeing a larger body ( juththah ) than this one. He said, ‘The Commander of the Faithful says for you to mate this male monkey with Ḥamāḥim (‘sweet-basil’), your female monkey,’ for Yūḥannā had a female monkey that he called ‘sweet-basil’ ( ḥamāḥim ), and he could not endure an hour away from her. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh was speechless with anger at this, but then he said to the messenger: Tell the Commander of the Faithful that my keeping this female monkey is not for the reason the Commander of the Faithful thinks. Rather, I thought about dissecting her and composing a book in the style of Galen’s writing on anatomy, and dedicating it to the Commander of the Faithful. But in her body the arteries are small and the veins and nerves thin, and I had no hope that things would become as clear in her as they would be in a large body. So I left her alone so that she might grow large and her body thicken. However, since this male monkey has been provided, the Commander of the Faithful should be informed that I shall write for him a book the likes of which has never been written in Islam. Then he did that with the male monkey and published a book on it that was so excellent that even his enemies praised it, let alone his friends. 36 [8.26.11] Again from Yūsuf: Yūḥannā once visited Muḥammad ibn Abī Ayyūb ibn al-Rashīd, 37 who had a fever that occured every third day 38 that afflicted him on alternate days. Yūḥannā examined his urine and took his pulse, and then asked him about his condition – how he was in the evening, at night, and in the morning – until he got the whole story from him. Yūḥannā then said: ‘This fever of yours is one of the lightest forms of fevers as long as the patient does not eat noxious foods, for its most extreme form consists of seven bouts of fever but the most common form leaves after only four bouts. If however the patient eats noxious foods, the malady can change and sometimes be prolonged and on occasion even cause death.’ Ibn Abī Ayyūb replied: ‘Inform me about what you think is best to do, and I will not disobey you.’ Yūḥannā ordered him to confine himself to bread without the crust, soaked three times in warm water, to be eaten when his appetite was weak. When his appetite became stronger he could progress to vegetarian substitutes, such as pulses, pumpkin, orache, 39 cucumber, and the like, but he should avoid foods that he particularly craved. Muḥammad ibn Abī Ayyūb then said: ‘So, this is what you have said I can eat, but tell me what not to eat.’ Yūhannā answered him: ‘The first thing I forbid you to eat is Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, then a she-mule, then the Catholicos, for his presence is necessary for the Christian community, and finally the two support boats ( zanbariyyatān ), 40 for they are the two boats on the eastern side of the pontoon bridge and without them the bridge is not safe.’ At that point Yūḥannā stood up, full of anger, swearing at me because I was the cause of his visiting Muḥammad ibn Abī Ayyūb. [8.26.12] Yūsuf continues: Muḥammad ibn Sulaymān ibn al-Hādī, 41 known as Ibn Mashghūf (Son of Moonstruck), had been ill for a very long time, and Abū l-ʿAbbās ibn al-Rashīd 42 talked Yūḥannā into visiting him. Now Muḥammad ibn Sulaymān often expanded his talk with things whose falseness was not immediately apparent to the listener. So Yūḥannā went to him one day, and I went with him. The patient asked for advice about what he should take, and Yūḥannā replied: ‘I was going to advise that you take whatever you do on a normal day, as long as I was satisfied that you wanted good health and well-being. However, since I am certain that you dislike good health and desire illness, I do not think it right to recommend anything.’ To which Ibn Mashghūf replied: ‘O fool! Who dislikes good health and desires illness?’ Yūḥannā then said to him: ‘You do. And the proof of that is that throughout the world good health is comparable to truth, while disease is comparable to falsehood. Since most of the time you converse in falsehoods, your telling lies is the disease-matter 43 of your illness. How can you recover from a prolonged illness while most of the time you extend it though falsehoods that aggravate it? Stick to the truth for three days without telling a lie, and Yūḥannā will renounce the Messiah if you are not free from this illness before these three days are over.’ Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm continues: Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh had a son called Māsawayh, whose mother was the daughter of al-Ṭayfūrī, the grandfather of Isrāʾīl the physician of al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān. 44 This Māsawayh resembled his father in his appearance, his speech, and his movements, only he was simple and took a long time to understand anything, and then would forget it a moment later. Yūḥannā used to make a show of loving his son as a precaution against the tongues of al-Ṭayfūrī and his children. But in fact he hated him even more than he hated Sahl the Beardless, who had attacked his honour by claiming that he ‘had put it in his mother’s vagina’. 45 [8.26.13] According to Yūsuf: At the start of the year 217/832, Ṣāliḥ ibn Shaykh ibn ʿAmīrah ibn Ḥayyān ibn Surāqah al-Asadī 46 came down with an illness that left him at the point of death. For that reason Yūḥannā went to visit him, but found him somewhat recovered. So there took place amongst us some story-telling, and one of the stories was the following: ʿAmīrah, his grandfather, lost his full brother who did not leave any children, and the misfortune oppressed him greatly. After his brother’s death, a concubine of his showed signs of pregnancy and so some of his grief was lessened. He took her into his home and gave her precedence over his own wife. She gave birth to a daughter, and he fostered the girl and gave her precedence over both his male and female children. When she grew up, he wished to find a suitable husband for her, but no one could ask for her in marriage unless he would submit to scrutiny of his lineage and examination of his character. One of those wishing to ask for her in marriage was a cousin ( ibn ʿamm ) of Khālid ibn Ṣafwān ibn al-Ahtam al-Tamīmī. ʿAmīrah was well acquainted with the looks of the youth and his lineage, so he said to him: ‘My son, as to your lineage, there is no need to look into that, for you are a good match for my brother’s daughter in that respect. But there can be no agreement for a marriage contract with my daughter without my learning the character of the man to whom she would be bound. If it is convenient for you, stay with me in my house for a year, during which time I shall discover your character traits, just as I have disclosed the lineage and characters of others. You will be made welcome and comfortable. But if that is not convenient for you, then go back to your people. I have already given orders for your move to be arranged and to transport everything you might need until your arrival with your belongings.’ Ṣāliḥ continued: I have heard from my father that my grandfather could not get through a single night with being tormented by conflicting views about the character of the man, one time concluding that the youth was the best possible, another time that he was the worst. The contradictions in his information compelled him to reject everything, and he abandoned the entire matter, on the basis that those who praised him were biased in his favour, while those who blamed him were biased against him. So, he wrote to Khālid as follows: And now to the point of this letter. A certain person proposed to us a marriage contract with your niece, named such and such, the daughter of such and such. If his character is as good as his lineage, then he is a desirable partner for his wife-to-be, and blessings on him who agrees to the marriage contract. But I shall decide on the basis of what you think should be done about your cousin and your niece, and I will act upon your trusted advice, God willing. Khālid wrote back: I have understood what you wrote. My cousin’s father was indeed both the best and the worst of my family – the best of them through his forgiveness of whoever wronged him and his generosity, but on the other hand he was debased through debauchery and contemptible morals. His mother was the loveliest of God’s creatures and the most virtuous, except that she had a bad temper, was stingy and as dull-witted as I have ever seen. This cousin of mine inherited the bad qualities of both his parents but none of their good qualities. If you still wish to pursue the marriage after what I have disclosed to you, then very well. But if you now find it disagreeable, I hope that God might choose someone for our niece. Ṣāliḥ then said: When my grandfather read this, he ordered the man be fed, and when he was finished, he then placed him on a fast dromedary camel and assigned someone to lead him out of the city of Kufa. [8.26.14] Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm then continued: I found this story wonderful and memorized it. When I left the house of Ṣāliḥ ibn Shaykh, I passed by the home of Hārūn ibn Sulaymān ibn al-Manṣūr. I entered with the usual greetings and encountered Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh there. Hārūn asked after my health and whom I had met recently, and so I told him of my visit to Ṣāliḥ ibn Shaykh. He said that I had been in a veritable goldmine of good, delightful stories and asked if I could remember one of them. So, I recounted this tale. Yūḥannā responded: ‘I’ll be damned 47 if this story is not similar to one of myself and my son – more similar in fact than my son is to me. I have been afflicted with a long face, a high cranium, a broad forehead, and blue eyes, but I have been blessed with intelligence and a memory for everything that takes place within my hearing. The daughter of al-Ṭayfūrī was the most beautiful woman I had seen or heard of, although she was stupid and simple-minded, not comprehending what she said and not understanding what was said to her. Our son received all of our bad qualities and was not endowed with any of her 48 good qualities, and if it had not been for the great meddling of the authorities and their entering into what did not concern them, I would have dissected this son of mine while living, just as Galen dissected apes and humans, so that I might learn by means of his dissection the causes of his stupidity. I would have relieved people of his character, and I would have provided the people in the world with the knowledge of what I would have recorded in my book regarding the structure of his body and the pathways of his arteries and veins and nerves, carefully delineated. However, the authorities prevented it!’ 49 Indeed, 50 in my opinion, Abū l-Ḥusayn Yūsuf 51 told this story to al-Ṭayfūrī and his children, sowing evil and strife between us, so that he could laugh at what would occur between us, and indeed things turned out as he had imagined they would. [Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm continued:] 52 His son, Māsawayh ibn Yūḥannā, fell ill a few nights later. A messenger from al-Muʿtaṣim arrived from Damascus, in the days when he was there with [his father, the caliph] al-Maʾmūn, to request Yūḥannā’s immediate presence. [After seeing his son] Yūḥannā recommended blood-letting for him, while al-Ṭayfūrī and his sons Zakariyyā and Dāniyāl were of the opposite opinion. Yūḥannā performed the blood-letting on him and left for Syria on the following day. On the third day after his departure, Māsawayh died. At the funeral, al-Ṭayfūri and his sons swore that Yūḥannā had intended to kill him, and they offered as proof what had been said in the home of Hārūn ibn Sulaymān. [8.26.15] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – have copied the following from the Book of Gifts and Precious Things 53 of Abū Bakr al-Khālidī and Abū ʿUthmān al-Khālidī: Abū Yaḥyā informed us that al-Mutawakkil told his courtiers and his fellow-drinkers that they should present gifts on the day he was to undergo blood-letting, and each one of them competed with the others in their gifts. Al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān gave him a slave-girl unequalled in beauty, elegance, and perfection. She arrived with a golden cup of the utmost beauty, a crystal jar having no like and filled with a drink beyond description, and a piece of paper on which was written: When the Imam has finished his treatment, which was followed by health and being cured, Then there is for him no better medicine than drinking some of this wine from this bowl, And breaking the [jug’s] seal presented to him: This is wholesome after medication. Al-Mutawakkil found that gift very elegant and beautiful. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh was present at the time, and he said ‘O Commander of the Faithful, by God, al-Fatḥ is a better physician than I am. Do not fail to do as he advised!’ [8.26.16] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – shall record some anecdotes about Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh: The caliph al-Mutawakkil said to him one day, ‘I sold my house for two castles,’ to which Yūḥannā replied, ‘Delay your breakfast, O Commander of the Faithful’. Al-Mutawakkil intended to say ‘I ate dinner and it disagreed with me,’ because this is its equivalent in [the kind of riddle] called taṣḥīf . Ibn Māsawayh answered him with the treatment for what he had intended to say. 54 Ibn Ḥamdūn al-Nadīm 55 criticised Ibn Māsawayh in front of the caliph al-Mutawakkil. Ibn Māsawayh answered him saying ‘If your ignorance was replaced with intelligence, and then it was distributed amongst 100 black beetles, each one of them would be more intelligent than Aristotle’. I found this in the book by Jirāb al-Dawlah: 56 Ibn Māsawayh the physician attended al-Mutawakkil, and al-Mutawakkil told one of his servants to collect urine from someone in a urine flask and show it to Ibn Māsawayh. When he examined it, he said ‘This is the urine of a mule.’ Al-Mutawakkil asked: ‘How do you know that it is the urine of a mule?,’ to which Ibn Māsawayh responded: ‘Have the person who brought this come here so that I can see him and you can determine whether I am right or wrong.’ Al-Mutawakkil called for the slave, and when he was present Ibn Māsawayh said to him: ‘What did you eat yesterday?.’ The reply was ‘barley bread and fresh water’. ‘That, by God,’ said Ibn Māsawayh, ‘was the food my donkey had today!’ I copied this from a handwritten note of al-Mukhtār ibn al-Ḥasan ibn Buṭlān: 57 Abū ʿUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ 58 and Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh met, as best I can remember, at the table of the vizier Ismāʿīl ibn Bulbul. 59 Amongst the dishes offered were meat cooked in sour milk following a course of fish, and Yūḥannā avoided eating both. Al-Jāḥiẓ said: ‘O shaykh, either the fish is of the same nature as the yoghurt ( laban ) or it is contrary to it. It they are opposites, then one is a cure for the other. 60 If they are of the same nature, then we can count this as eating just one of them until we are full.’ ‘By God,’ said Yūḥannā, ‘I am not an expert in speculative theology ( kalām ), O Abū ʿUthmān, but eat everything and see what happens in the morning.’ Abū ʿUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ ate in order to defend his argument, but during that night he was partially paralyzed. 61 Yūḥannā commented: ‘By God, this was the result of defective logic. What misled al-Jāḥiẓ was the idea that fish had the same nature as yoghurt. But even if we allow that the two of them had the same nature, their mixture had a potency that was not to be found in one of them alone.’ [8.26.17] Aḥmad ibn ʿAlī ibn Thābit al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī 62 records that al-Ḥusayn ibn Fahm said: Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī, the author of The Classes of Poets , 63 came to us (in Baghdad) in the year 221/837 and he was afflicted with a severe illness. No-one failed to go and see him, and the most important people sent their physicians to him, one of them being Ibn Masāwayh. When he had felt his pulse and examined him, he said ‘I do not detect as much illness as grief.’ The patient replied: ‘By God, it is not as if I have worldly desires, what with my eighty-two years! But humans are in a state of ignorance until they are made aware of this by illness. If I could stand for one time on Mount Arafat and visit the tomb of the Prophet, may peace be upon him, and perform some of things that are on my mind, then you would see that the severity of this would ease.’ Ibn Māsawayh replied to him: ‘Do not be grieved, for I detected in your arteries the innate heat and strength that, if God protects you in the present crisis, will give you ten more years to live.’ Al-Ḥusayn ibn Fahm concluded: ‘His words were propitious, and he lived for ten years after that.’ Al-Ṣūlī records in the Book of Folios : 64 The caliph al-Maʾmūn went down to the Budandūn, 65 a river in the province of Tarsus. His brother, al-Muʿtaṣim accompanied him and they settled there and put their feet in it to cool them, for the water was very cold, pure, and pleasing. Al-Maʾmūn said to al-Muʿtaṣim: ‘Right now I would like to eat Azadh dates and drink this cold water with them.’ And immediately he heard the sound of the post-horses’ riggings and bells and someone calling ‘This is Yazīd ibn Muqbil of the Iraqi courier system.’ He produced a large silver tray with fresh dates on it, and al-Maʾmūn was astonished that his wish had been fulfilled. The two of them ate and drank water and then got up. Al-Maʾmūn took his leave and had a short rest, but then rose from that with a fever. Blood-letting was performed, but on his neck there appeared a swelling of a type he had had before, which the physician treated by letting it ‘ripen’, open up, and then heal. Al-Muʿtaṣim said to the physician, who was Ibn Māsawayh, ‘What a peculiar situation we find ourselves in! For you are a physician outstanding and unparalleled in his craft, and yet this swelling repeatedly returns to the caliph. Can you not destroy it and alleviate it by cutting it out so that it does not return? By God, if this affliction returns, then I will have you beheaded!’ Ibn Māsawayh was taken aback 66 by this speech of al-Muʿtaṣim and he left. He later related the event to someone whom he trusted, and the man said: ‘Did you detect what al-Muʿtaṣim’s purpose was?’ ‘No’, was the reply. ‘He had directed you to kill him [al-Maʾmūn] so that the swelling would not return. It could be only that, for he knows that a physician cannot keep diseases from attacking people. Indeed, he told you not to let him live by saying that the disease should not return.’ Then Ibn Māsawayh made his excuses and ordered a student of his to attend al-Maʾmūn in his place and examine the swelling. The student returned each day and informed him of al-Maʾmūn’s condition and new developments. Then he ordered the student to open the swelling, but the latter exclaimed ‘May God protect you! It has not reddened and has not reached the stage of suppuration.’ Ibn Māsawayh said to him: ‘Go on and open it, as I’ve told you to do, and do not consult again with me.’ And so the student did as directed and opened it, but al-Maʾmūn died, may God have mercy on him. 67 [8.26.18] Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah concludes: I say that Ibn Māsawayh acted in that way because he was deficient in virtue, in religion, and fidelity. He was not a Muslim, but he did not even hold to his own religion, as is evident from the stories given above related by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. No sensible person should give credit to, nor a prudent person rely upon, someone who does not have a religion which he follows and to which he is bound. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh died in Surra Man Raʾā 68 on Monday, the 25th of Jumādā ii in the year 243 [19 October 857] during the reign of al-Mutawakkil. [8.26.19] Some of the sayings of Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh: When asked about what was good without any accompanying evil, he replied: ‘Drinking a small amount of a wine that is pure.’ When asked about what is evil without any good, he said ‘Having intercourse with an old woman.’ ‘Eating apples restores the soul.’ ‘You should have food that is new and wine that is old.’ [8.26.20] The following books were written by Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh: 69 The book of proof ( K. al-Burhān ), in thirty chapters. The book of discernment ( K. al-Baṣīrah ). The book of completeness and totality ( K. al-Kamāl wa-l-tamām ). The book of fevers ( K. al-Ḥummayāt mushajjar ), in branch-diagram format; and he also wrote: The large book on medicine ( K. al-Mushajjar al-kabīr fi l-ṭibb ), in branch-diagram format. 70 On foodstuffs ( K. al-Aghdhiyah ). 71 On beverages ( K. al-Ashribah ). The handbook of prescriptions and treatments ( K. al-Munjiḥ fī l-ṣifāt wal-ʿilājāt ). On phlebotomy and cupping ( K. fī l-faṣd wa-l-ḥijāmah ). On leprosy ( K. fī l-judhām ), the first book to be written on the topic. On precious stones ( K. al-Jawāhir ). The book of excess weight ( K. al-Rujḥān ). 72 The preparation and administration of laxatives ( K. fī Tarkīb al-adwiyah al-mus′hilah wa-iṣlāḥihā ), with details of each drug and its benefits. The avoidance of harmful foods ( K. Dafʿ maḍārr al-aghdhiyah ). On unexpected outcomes that would have defeated anyone else ( K. fī Ghayr mā shīʾa mimmā ʿajaza ʿanhu ghayruhū ). On the complete secret ( K. fī l-Sirr al-kāmil ). On entering the bath and its benefits and disadvantages ( K. fī Dukhūl al-ḥammām wa-manāfiʿihā wa-maḍārrihā ). Poisons and their treatment ( K. al-Sumūm wa-ʿilājihā ). The book of brocade ( K. al-Dībāj ). The seasons ( K. al-Azminah ). 73 On cooked food ( K. al-Ṭabīkh ). On headache and its causes and its pains and all of its medicaments and on vertigo and the causes of each type and all the therapies ( K. fī al-Ṣudāʿ wa-ʿilalihi wa-awjāʿihi wa-jamīʿ adwiyatihi wa-l-sadar wa-l-ʿilal almuwallidah li-kull nawʿ minhu wa-jamīʿ ʿilājihi ), composed for ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir. Vertigo and dizziness ( K. al-Sadar wa-l-duwār ). A book explaining why physicians should avoid treating pregnant women during certain months of their pregnancy ( K. lima imtanaʿa al-aṭibbāʾ min ʿilāj al-ḥawāmil fī baʿḍ shuhūr ḥamlihinna ). The examination of the physician ( K. Miḥnat al-ṭabīb ). Knowledge of the oculists’ examination ( K. Maʿrifat miḥnat al-kaḥḥālīn ). The defectiveness of the eye ( K. Daghl al-ʿayn ). 74 On taking the pulse ( K. Majassat al-ʿurūq ). On the voice and hoarseness ( K. al-Ṣawt wa-l-buḥḥah ). On barley water ( K. Māʾ al-shaʿīr ). On black bile ( K. al-Mirrah al-sawdāʾ ). The treatment of infertile women so that they will become pregnant ( K. ʿIlāj al-nisāʾ allawātī lā yaḥbalna ḥattā yaḥbalna ). The embryo ( K. al-janīn ). Regimen for good health ( K. Tadbīr al-aṣiḥḥāʾ ). On the toothbrush and toothpowders ( K. fī l-Siwāk wa-l-sanūnāt ). The stomach ( K. al-Miʿdah ). On colic ( K. al-Qūlanj ). A book of medical axioms ( K. al-Nawādir al-ṭibbiyyah ). 75 Anatomy ( K. al-Tashrīḥ ). The administration of laxatives according to seasons and according to temperaments ( K. fīTartīb saqy adwiyah al-mus′hilah bi-ḥasab al-azminah wa-bi-ḥasab al-amzijah ), and how they should be consumed, by whom and when, how to strengthen the drug when it is weak, and how to avoid severe diarrhoea when taken immoderately. The structure of man, and his component parts and the number of his organs, his joints, his bones, and his blood vessels, as well as knowledge of the causes of pains ( K. Tarkīb khalq al-insān wa-ajzāʾihi wa-ʿadad aʿḍāʾihi wa-mafāṣilihi wa-ʿiẓāmihi wa-ʿurūqihi wa-maʿrifat asbāb al-awjāʿ ), which he composed for al-Maʾmūn. A book of substitutes ( K. al-Abdāl ). Aphorisms he wrote for Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq after he had enquired about the topics discussed ( Fuṣūl katabahā li-Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq baʿda an saʾalahu almadhkūr dhālika ). Melancholia and its causes, symptoms and treatment ( K. al-Mālīkhūliyā wa-asbābihā wa-ʿalāmātihā wa-ʿilājihā ). A summary of medicine in which there is gathered together what is known to Persian and Byzantine physicians ( K. Jāmiʿ al-ṭibb mimmā ijtamaʿa ʿalayhi aṭibbāʾ Fāris wa-l-Rum ). The method for curing ( K. al-Ḥīlah li-l-burʾ ). Footnotes 1 Ullmann, Medizin , 112–115; ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Māsawayh’ (J-C Vadet); Jacquart, ‘Ibn Māsawayh’. For his influence in Europe, where some spurious treatises circulated under his Latinized name Mesue, see Sournia & Troupeau, ‘Médecine arabe’; and De Vos, ‘The “Prince of Medicine”’. 2 See Ruhāwī, Adab al-ṭabīb (Riyadh edn.), 149 (facs.), 164–165. 3 See Ch. 8.28 . 4 The Abbasid caliph al-Wāthiq (r. 842–847). 5 I.e. Ibn Juljul, Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ , 65. Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 380. 6 Modern Ankara. The Byzantine town of Ancyra (Arabic Anqarah), on the northern edge of the central Anatolian steppe, ei 2 art. ‘Anḳara’ (F. Taeschner). 7 ʿAmmūriyah; the Arabic name for the stronghold of Amorion/Amorium (Syriac Amūrīn) on the military road from Constantinople to Cilicia, southwest of Ankara; the ruins are today called Asar Kale near modern Emirdağ district of Turkey. See ei 2 , art ‘ʿAmmūriya’ (M. Canard), 1:449. 8 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:294. 9 See Ch. 8.3.6 n 15 . 10 Abū l-ʿAbbās Muḥammad ibn Aḥmad ibn ʿAbd Allāh al-Hāshimī, known as Abū l-ʿIbar, was a burlesque poet, buffoon, and court jester who died in 252/866; see ei 2 art. ‘Abu ʾl-ʿIbar’ (J.E. Bencheikh). 11 Jarab can mean either a generalised scabies (a skin disease, often contagious, causing severe itching) or, when restricted to the eye, trachoma. It is unclear which is intended here, but probably scabies. 12 Arabic akḥal . 13 Aṣṭumakhīqūn , a digestive, an agent that improves appetite and digestion; a stomachic. 14 Jawārishn al-khūzī (so also in Ibn Sīnā’s Qānūn and Ibn al-Bayṭār) is a class of compound remedies acting as stomachics or remedies for stomach ailments. Perhaps the same as jawārish [sic] jawzī , the ‘nutty stomachic’ in Sābūr ibn Sahl, ʿAḍudī recension , 65 and 167 no. 139. 15 Kammūn . The seeds of cumin were used in a range of medical recipes, especially for stomach complaints; see Lev &Amar, Practical Materia Medica , 159–160. 16 Otherwise unknown stomach medicine. In the versions of Ibn al-Qifṭī ( Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 386) and Barhebraeus ( Mukhtaṣar , 131) it appears as al-q.dādhīqūn and al-b.ndādhīqūn . 17 Otherwise unknown stomach medicine. Cf. amrūsiyā (from ἀμβροσία) in Sābūr ibn Sahl, Dispensatorium , 39 no. 14. 18 Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 387. 19 The ‘two coats’ seem to come from Matthew 10:9–11 ‘Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for labourers deserve their food’ (Revised Standard), while the clearest Biblical prohibition to polygamy may be i Cor. 7:2 ‘But because of cases of sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband’. 20 Literally, ‘the biter of his mother’s clitoris’. 21 Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 387. 22 For Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl (d. 257/870) see Ch. 8.4 . 23 An ancient town (Ctesiphon) 20 miles southwest of Baghdad; see ei 2 art. ‘Madāʾin’ (M. Streck & M. Morony). 24 Probably Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī, the half-brother of al-Hādī and Hārūn al-Rashīd. He appears frequently in iau and is regularly referred to as Abū Isḥāq. He was still alive at this time, for he died in 226/839. 25 Bukhtīshūʿ quotes a Prophetic hadith ( li-l-ʿāhir bi-l-ḥajar , though the standard form of the hadith is li-l-ʿāhir al-ḥajar ) on which see Bukharī, Ṣaḥīḥ , viii:165 (nos. 6817 and 6818). On adultery and lapidation see ei 2 art. ‘Zinā’ (R. Peters), and ei Three art. ‘Capital punishment’ (C. Lange). 26 This unusual use of the word sanām also occurs in an anonymous obscene line: وسَناما الخصُىَأهْدلَ عِىبَا دًاجٍوالليلُيرُ يكَ أ يرْ ثٌمَُ (‘The ماسَنو balls hung loosely and were huge as a camel’s hump’); see al-Azdī, Ḥikāyat Abī l-Qāsim al-Baghdādī , 69, and al-Azdī, Ḥikāyat Abī l-Qāsim al-Baghdādī , ed. ʿAbbūd al-Shāljī, 224 (as al-Risālah al-Baghdādiyyah and attrib. to Abū Ḥayyān al-Tawḥīdī). We thank Emily Selove, as well as Geert Jan van Gelder and N. Peter Joosse, for assistance in resolving this passage. 27 The word qarnānah is here interpreted as a very unusual feminine of qarnān , ‘cuckold’ (cf. Italian cornuto ), presumably meaning an adulteress or woman who makes a cuckold of her husband. The word qarnānah might also be interpreted as a woman having two uteri (lit., two horns), from qarnah , the ‘horn’ of the uterus; in anatomical writings we find qarnā al-raḥim , the two horns of the uterus, the usual word for womb being raḥim . The word aqrān , means sons of one mother from different men (Lane, Lexicon , Supplement, 2088). 28 Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 387, and in a summarized form also in Ibn Riḍwān’s Maqālah fī sharaf al-ṭibb (Istanbul ms Hekimoǧlu 691 fol. 113a). 29 The word dukkān is in this context a variant form of dikkah ; Lane ( Lexicon , 900) gives it as a synonym of dikkah , saying it is a wide bench of stone or brick generally built against a wall; Clive Holes, Dialect i:180 says under d-k-k that it is a step or bench ‘on the sea-front’ for guests. 30 Literally ‘in the middle of the Tigris River’, which does not seem quite right. 31 Unidentified. 32 Relevant to the joke is that the convert’s name could be rendered as ‘Jesus, descendant of Abraham, descendant of Noah and his father’. 33 Qiradah is a not uncommon plural of qird , meaning a male monkey, sometimes translated as ape; see Steingass, Persian-English Dictionary , 963, and Lane, Lexicon , 2512; the context does not allow the vocalization as qirdah ‘female monkey’. The reference here is probably to a Barbary ape ( Macaca sylvanus ) or Hamadryas baboon ( Papio hamadryas ) rather than one of the smaller monkeys. The great apes or anthropoids were then unknown. See Savage-Smith, ‘Galen’s Account of the Cranial Nerves’, 79–83; Savage-Smith, ‘Attitudes towards Dissection’, 84–86. 34 Salmawayh ibn Bunān (d. 225/840) was a Christian court physician to the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq considered him the best physician of his day; see Sezgin, gas iii , 227. A biography of him occurs at Ch. 8.20 . 35 The physician al-Ḥarīsh is unidentified. 36 This treatise by Ibn Māsawayh on anatomy, based on his own dissections, has not yet been identified. The only recorded treatise of his specifically on anatomy was preserved in a single manuscript that early in the twentieth century was in a private collection in Aleppo; its present location is unknown. See Sezgin, gas iii , 235 no. 29. 37 A grandson of Hārūn al-Rashīd. His father Abū Ayyūb Muḥammad ibn al-Rashīd is mentioned in al-Ṣūlī’s Awrāq (iii:94) and al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , v:143. 38 Ḥummā muthallathah . 39 Sarmaq , a variety or subspecies of Atriplex ; a common name for some varieties was salt-bush or wild spinach. 40 Zanbariyyah is a technical term for a type of large, bulky, heavy boat to which things are anchored. In other words, a boat that supports and anchors pontoon bridges. All the bridges over the Tigris and Euphrates at this time were pontoon bridges. 41 A grandson of the caliph al-Hādī (r. 169/785–786), the immediate predecessor of Hārūn al-Rashīd. 42 A son of Hārūn al-Rashīd, Abū l-ʿAbbās Aḥmad ibn Hārūn al-Rashīd; cf. 8.25.7 . 43 Māddah . 44 For Isrā’īl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī, see Ch. 8.12 above. Al-Fatḥ ibn Khāqān was a close associate of al-Mutawakkil and was murdered together with him in 247/861; see ei 2 art. ‘al-Fatḥ b. K̲h̲āḳān’ (O. Pinto). 45 Sahl the Beardless (Sahl al-Kawsaj) has a biography given by iau at Ch. 8.15 . In that biography, Sahl al-Kawsaj, by way of a merry prank, had claimed to have seduced Yūḥannā’s mother and to be Yūḥannā’s biological father. Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 388–391, al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xvi:22. 46 See al-Kalbī, Jamharat al-nasab (Caskel), table 50, where the lineage of Shaykh ibn ʿAmīrah ibn Ḥayyān ibn Surāqah is found. 47 The idiom is unclear here, but the intent is not. Compare al-Iṣfahānī, al-Aghānī , ii:219–220: ʿ alayhi wa-ʿalayhi in ghannāka illā ṣawtan wāḥidan ḥattā tanṣarifa, wa-ʿalayhi ʿalayhi in ḥalaftu allā ubirra qasamaka . 48 Ibn al-Qifṭī has ‘our’. 49 Essentially identical account in Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 390–391. 50 The story is very condensed compared with Ibn al-Qifṭī. 51 One would expect Abū l-Ḥasan Yūsuf (ibn Ibrāhīm al-Ḥābis ibn al-Dāyah). 52 This portion of the long anecdote is also written on a separate sheet of paper in ms A and is missing from ms P. 53 The K. al-Tuḥaf wa-l-hadāyā , as it is generally known, was authored by two famous brothers known as al-Khālidiyyān, poets and men of letters, d. 380/990 and ca. 390/100, respectively; see al-Khālidiyyān, al-Tuḥaf wa-l-hadāyā , 3 where the anecdote is found in a similar wording. The epigram was apparently recycled for it is quoted in the same book on two other occasions, in similar anecdotes. 54 This is a highly conscious and extremely artificial way of riddling, based on the written words without diacritical dots, whereby e.g. bayt can stand for bint, banat, yabuththu, nabt , etc.: if one writes the caliph’s utterance without dots or spaces: bʿtbytybqṣryn , it can be re-dotted to tʿšytfḍrny (note that three “teeth” can stand for one shīn ) = taʿashshaytu fa-ḍarranī . It is almost unimaginable that Yūḥannā could immediately have understood this, but there are similar anecdotes. 55 Aḥmad ibn Ibrāhīm ibn Dāwūd ibn Ḥamdūn; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Ḥamdūn’ (J.C. Vadet). Cf. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:295. 56 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:295, mentions this Jirāb al-Dawlah as the nickname of Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad ibn ʿAllūjah – Al-Ṣafadī ( Wāfī , viii: 7) has ʿAllawayh, which could also be read as ʿAllūyah; al-Sijzī ( gal S I, 599) has b. ʿAlwīya aš-Šaǧarī, wrongly – a musician and wit in the time of al-Muqtadir (early 4th/10th cent.), who wrote a book with anecdotes and jokes ( nawādir wa-maḍāḥik ), entitled Tarwīḥ al-arwāḥ wa-miftāḥ al-surūr wa-l-afrāḥ . 57 The physician al-Mukhtār ibn al-Ḥasan ibn ʿAbdūn ibn Buṭlān (d. 458/1066) is given a biography in Ch. 10.38 . The source of the anecdote is unclear. 58 Al-Jāḥiẓ, the famous Arab prose writer and author of works on adab , d. 255/869. 59 Ismāʿīl ibn Bulbul, Abū l-Ṣaqr, vizier of the Abbasid caliph al-Muʿtamid; died 278/892. 60 Dawāʾ , a medicine or remedy, referring to the medical doctrine of curing by applying a substance possessing the opposite nature. 61 Falaja , to be temporarily or partially immobilised or paralyzed. Al-Jāḥiẓ famously suffered from fālij in his old age; perhaps this story refers to al-Jāḥiẓ’s first episode of a stroke or hemiplegia. 62 Author of the famous Tārīkh Baghdād , where the anecdote is also found: see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Tārīkh Baghdād , iii:276. 63 Muḥammad ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī, traditionist and philologist of the Baṣra school, d. c. 231/845. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Sallām al-D̲ j̲umaḥī’ (Ch. Pellat); Ibn Sallām al-Jumaḥī, Ṭabaqāt . 64 Al-Ṣūlī, Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn Yaḥyā ibn al-ʿAbbās ibn Muḥammad ibn Ṣūl, man of letters, court companion of several caliphs, expert on poetry and chess, d. 335/947; his main work was Kitāb al-Awrāq , ‘a collection of accounts ( ak̲h̲bār ) about the Abbasid caliphs and their poetry, and about their secretaries, ministers and poets’; see ei 2 art. ‘al-Ṣūlī’ (S. Leder). Three volumes of Kitāb al-awrāq , mostly on poets, including caliphs and Abbasid princes who made poetry, has been edited by J. Heyworth Dunne (London, 1934–1936), and a volume on the caliphate of al-Wāthiq, edited more recently (1998) in St Petersburg by Belyayev and Khalidov. This anecdote is not in the published volumes. Iḥsān ʿAbbās brought together a handful of quotations from the Kitāb al-Awrāq that he found in Ibn al-ʿAdīm’s Bughyat al-ṭalab fī taʾrikh Ḥalab (ʿAbbās, Shadharāt , 403–427), but the anecdote is not there either. It is however close to one recounted in Ibn Abī Ṭāhir Tayfūr, K. Baghdād , 189. 65 It was on the Budandūn (also written al-Badandūn and Badhandūn), at a fortress at the Cilician Gates, that the caliph al-Maʾmūn died in 218/833 while on campaign against the Byzantines. The modern Turkish name for the river is Bozantı. 66 The meaning of fa-istaṭraqa is uncertain. 67 On the suggested intentional killing of al-Maʾmūn, see Cooperson, Classical Arabic Biography , 51–52; Cooperson, al-Maʾmūn , 121; Hibri, Reinterpreting Islamic Historiography , 112–121. 68 I.e., Sāmarrāʾ, Samarra. 69 For further information on his treatises, see Sezgin, gas iii , 235–236; Ullmann, Medizin , 113, 114, 119, 205; Levey, ‘Ibn Māsawaih and his Treatise on Simple Aromatic Substances’. Ibn al-Qifṭī and Ibn al-Nadīm list only 19 of these works, hence were not iau ’s source here. 70 Mushajjar could also mean decorated, suggesting that in this context the text was illustrated with plants; compare Sezgin, gas iii , 233 n. 5. 71 See Troupeau, ‘Le premier traité arabe de diététique’. 72 Al-rujḥān may be a technical term in weights and measures. 73 On astrological medicine; for a French translation, see Sbath, ‘Le livre des temps d’Ibn Massawaih’; Troupeau, ‘Le livre des temps de Jean Ibn Māsawayh’. 74 Partial German translation by Meyerhof & Prüfer, ‘Augenheilkunde des Jūḥannā ibn Māsawaih’. 75 For a French translation, see Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, Le Livre des axiomes médicaux . 8.27. Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh 1 [8.27.1] Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh, the brother of Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh, was personal physician to the caliph al-Maʾmūn. [8.27.2] The following account quotes Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, a client of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī. 2 Discussion with this physician was not a pleasant experience, for he never presented evidence in support of his allegations, and he distrusted any innovation that was of less than two hundred years’ standing, regardless of the views of other physicians. He would not use oxymel if the rose petals had been prepared with anything but honey, nor would he use rose water unless it had been made from rose petals steeped in hot water, with no sugar. Indeed, he would not use anything at all that had not been used by the great physicians of olden times. I asked him one day what he thought of bananas, ‘I have never found them referred to in the works of the great men of olden times,’ he replied, ‘and consequently I should not venture either to consume them myself or to advise other people to eat them.’ Al-Maʾmūn thought highly of him and gave him preference over Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, so much so that he would address him familiarly as ‘Abū so-and-so,’ rather than formally by his given name. The caliph would take no medicine that had not been compounded and finished by Mikhāʾīl. Every physician in Baghdad would treat him more respectfully than anyone else. I have observed this with my own eyes. [8.27.3] Another account from Yūsuf: Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh, along with a number of other eminent physicians, attended Shiklah 3 at the home of Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī in mid-Shawwāl in the year 220 [October 835]. The lady was ill, and the caliph al-Muʿtaṣim 4 had summoned these physicians to determine how she was faring and to report back to him. They had all gone to examine her the previous day, scrutinizing her urine and taking her pulse; now, on this day, they examined her again, and they all said that she was on the mend, and that they had no doubt that she would recover. The thought crossed my mind that in thus pronouncing her in good health, they were seeking, or at any rate most of them were seeking, to please Abū Isḥāq. 5 Accordingly, I followed them when they left and questioned each of them individually about what he really thought about Shiklah’s condition. They all told me what they had told the caliph, except Salmawayh ibn Bunān and Mīkhāʾīl. Salmawayh said she was worse than she had been the previous day, while Mīkhāʾīl said to me, ‘Yesterday, there was a swelling in the vicinity of her heart; today, we did not observe it. Has that swelling sunk into the ground, do you think, or flown off into the sky? You had better make the necessary preparations for this lady’s funeral; she will not last the night.’ In the event, she died at the time of the last evening prayer, about ten hours after Mīkhāʾīl had spoken those words to me. [8.27.4] A further account from Yūsuf: 6 I have heard at first hand from Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh that after al-Maʾmūn had gone to Baghdad, 7 he and Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn 8 were regular drinking companions. One day, as they sat with some Quṭrabbul 9 date-wine before them, the caliph said to Ṭāhir, ‘Have you ever seen such date-wine as this, Abū l-Ṭayyib?’ ‘Yes, I have,’ he replied. ‘The colour, the taste, the smell, all as good as this?’ ‘Yes, Sire,’ said Ṭāhir. ‘Where, then?’ asked the caliph, and when Ṭāhir explained that he had had equally good date-wine in Būshanj, 10 al-Maʾmūn said that he would like to have some of it. Accordingly, Ṭāhir wrote to his factor, instructing him to have some of the date-wine sent to him. In due course, a messenger arrived from al-Nahrawān, 11 informing the caliph that some wine from Būshanj had been delivered to Ṭāhir. The caliph naturally expected the latter to bring him his date-wine, but day after day went by and it never appeared. Finally al-Maʾmūn asked him point-blank, ‘Have you by any chance received some date-wine in your postbag lately, Abū l-Ṭayyib?’ ‘I beseech you, O Commander of the Faithful,’ said Ṭāhir, ‘do not overwhelm me with disgrace and humiliation.’ ‘Whatever do you mean?’ asked the caliph. ‘The wine of which I told the Commander of the Faithful,’ answered Ṭāhir, ‘was some that I had drunk when I was poverty-stricken and living in a village that I hoped I might some day own; I had no higher aspiration. O Commander of the Faithful, God has now granted me more than I could ever have hoped for, and when I received that wine, I tasted it, and found that it was bad beyond words.’ ‘Bring me some of it none the less,’ said al-Maʾmūn, and when Ṭāhir brought him a flask of it, the caliph ordered the word ‘Ṭāhirī’ inscribed upon the flask, by way of poking fun at Ṭāhir, whose dreadful wine it was, and the flask stored in the cellars. There it remained for two years. One day, however, al-Maʾmūn’s doctors prescribed an emetic, and told him that there was no better emetic than bad date-wine. Someone remembered that that Ṭāhirī wine was reputed to be the worst in all Iraq, so the flask was brought up from storage. But when the caliph tasted it, he found it to be as good as Quṭrabbul date-wine, if not better. The air of Iraq had done wonders for it, as it does for all crops and the products that are pressed from them. Footnotes 1 Neither Sezgin nor Ullmann indicates any bibliographic references to Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh. There is a notice on him in Ibn al-Qifṭī ( Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 328–329), who reports that he learnt all he knew from experience and read nothing. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 A brother of the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd and briefly caliph himself in 202–203/817–818; see ei 2 art. ‘Ibrāhīm b. al-Mahdī’ (D. Sourdel). For the story, cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 329. 3 One of al-Mahdī’s concubines, and Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī’s mother. 4 Brother of and successor to al-Maʾmūn; r. 218–227/833–842. 5 The caliph; his kunyah was Abū Isḥāq. 6 Cf. again Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 329. 7 After his victory over his brother, the caliph al-Amīn, in 198/813. 8 A general who had played an important role in al-Maʾmūn’s victory in the civil war and was subsequently appointed governor of the western provinces, and later became chief of police in Baghdad. He was the founder of the Ṭāhirid dynasty of governors of Khorasan. See ei 2 art. ‘Ṭāhir b. al-Ḥusayn’ (C.E. Bosworth). 9 A village not far from Baghdad celebrated for the excellence of its wine. 10 Ṭāhir’s native place, a town in eastern Persia. See ei 2 art. ‘Būs̲h̲and̲j̲’ (W. Barthold & B. Spuler). 11 A town and system of canals further down the Tigris. 8.28. ʿĪsā ibn Māssah 1 ʿĪsā ibn Māssah was one of the outstanding physicians of his age and a distinguished practitioner of the art of medicine. He was particularly skilful in the way he treated his patients. The following is a list of his works in the field of medicine: 2 On the effectiveness of foods ( K. quwā l-aghdhiyah ). What to do when you cannot consult a doctor ( K. man lā yaḥḍuruhū ṭabīb ). Questions on offspring and descendants ( Masāʾil fī l-nasl wa-l-dhurriyyah ). A work in which the author explains why he refrained from treating pregnant women and other matters ( K. yukhbiru fīhi bi-l-sabab alladhī mtanaʿa bihī min muʿālajat al-ḥawāmil wa-ghayr dhālika ). On the rising of the stars mentioned by Hippocrates ( K. fī ṭulūʿ al-kawākib allatī dhakarahā Buqrāṭ ). On bleeding and the art of cupping ( K. fī l-faṣd wa-l-ḥijāmah ). On the use of the bath ( R. fī stiʿmāl al-ḥammām ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to ʿĪsā ibn Māssah, see Sezgin, gas iii , 257; Ullmann, Medizin , 122–123. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. In writing Māssah with a doubled ‘s’, we follow Brockelmann, Sezgin and Ullmann. Ibn Māssah was one of the sources of al-Ruhāwī’s Adab al-Ṭabīb , from which iau often quotes. 2 Ibn al-Qifṭī and Ibn al-Nadīm only list two works, hence were not iau ’s source here. 8.29. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq 1 [8.29.1] This is Abū Zayd Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq al-ʿAbādī, the first vowel of the nisbah being ‘a’ and the ‘b’ undoubled. 2 The word ʿ abād denotes a number of ancient Arab tribes in al-Ḥīrah 3 that embraced Christianity. The relative adjective is ʿabādī . 4 A poet has said, 5 [Wine,] poured for you by a fawn from the Banū l-ʿIbād, 6 who holds his feast day on Sunday. Ḥunayn was a fluent, eloquent speaker and an accomplished poet. He lived for a time in Basra, where he studied Arabic grammar with al-Khalīl ibn Aḥmad. 7 Subsequently, he removed to Baghdad and acquired an unrivalled mastery of the art of medicine. [8.29.2] The following account is taken from Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 8 Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq was diligent and keenly interested in learning the art of medicine, but his initial experience in that connection was unfortunate. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh gave courses in the subject which were attended by educated persons of every kind. I used to see Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, the translator, reading, under Yūḥannā’s guidance, On the sects , 9 the title of which in both Greek and Syriac is Peri haireseōn . At that time, Ḥunayn was constantly asking questions, much to Yūḥannā’s annoyance. Another factor that did not endear him to his teacher was the fact that Ḥunayn came of a family of money-changers in al-Ḥīrah, for the people of Gondēshāpūr, and in particular its physicians, looked down on the people of al-Ḥīrah and did not encourage tradesmen’s sons to enter their profession. It so happened one day that Ḥunayn asked Yūḥannā a question about a passage that he had read, which he was having some trouble understanding. Yūḥannā lost his temper. ‘The people of al-Ḥīrah are not fit to learn the art of medicine!’ he said. ‘You would do better to go to so-and-so, who is a relative of yours, and borrow fifty dirhams from him. For one dirham you can buy some little baskets; for three more, you can buy some orpiment. 10 Spend the rest on copper coins of Kufa and al-Qādisiyyah, coat them with orpiment, put them into the baskets, and then sit by the roadside crying ‘Fine coins for alms and gratuities!’ You will make a better living selling such coins than you ever will by practising this profession. Leave my house!’ So Ḥunayn departed for home in tears, humiliated and downcast. We saw no more of him for two years. It so happened, however, that the caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd had a Roman slave-girl named Kharshā whom he valued highly and had appointed to a post as store woman. She had a sister (or it may have been a niece) who sometimes brought the caliph an item of clothing or something else that Kharshā kept in her wardrobes. Al-Rashīd noticed eventually that he had not seen her for some time, and asked Kharshā what had become of her, whereupon Kharshā informed him that she had given the girl in marriage to a kinsman. ‘What!’ said the caliph angrily, ‘without first obtaining my permission and purchasing her? for she is my property,’ and he ordered Sallām al-Abrash 11 to ascertain the identity of the husband and to chastise him. Sallām soon ran him to earth, and, without so much as saying a word to him, had him seized, thrown down and castrated without further ado. However, the girl had already conceived by him, and in due course gave birth to a son, about the time of Hārūn al-Rashīd’s expedition to Tus, 12 in the course of which the caliph died. Kharshā adopted the boy and brought him up in the Roman fashion, with the result that he spoke perfect Greek and was able to read works written in that language. His name was Isḥāq, and he was known familiarly as Ibn al-Khaṣīy, that is, ‘son of the eunuch’. [8.29.3] We would often meet at literary gatherings, and that, I felt, gave him a certain claim on me, so once when he fell ill, I went to visit him. There at his home, what should I see but a man with such a head of hair that it partially covered his face, so that I could not tell who he was. He was walking up and down, reciting some Greek poetry by Homer, the greatest of all the Greek poets, and the sound of his voice put me in mind of Ḥunayn, whom I had not seen for two years and more. ‘That’s Ḥunayn!’ I said to Isḥāq ibn al-Khaṣīy. He said no it wasn’t, but did not sound as though he meant it. I addressed the hirsute man tentatively: ‘Ḥunayn?’ and he acknowledged that it was indeed he. ‘The son of that whore Risālah,’ 13 he went on, ‘said that no ʿIbādī was capable of learning the art of medicine. May I renounce the Christian religion if I undertake the study of medicine before I have achieved a more comprehensive mastery of the Greek language than anyone else in this age! No one knows about this apart from my brother here, and if it had occurred to me that you might realize who I was, I should have kept out of your way. But now that my disguise no longer deceives you, I must ask you to keep my identity to yourself.’ After that, it was a good three years, perhaps closer to four, before I saw him again. I had gone to call on Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, 14 who had just come down from al-Maʾmūn’s camp 15 shortly before the caliph’s death, and there in his house was none other than Ḥunayn. He had been translating parts of one of Galen’s works on anatomy: a Roman editor had taken the work in question and divided it up into sections, and Ḥunayn had translated a number of these sections for Jibrīl. Jibrīl was addressing him with the utmost respect as ‘Rabban (‘teacher’) Ḥunayn.’ Seeing my astonishment at this spectacle, Jibrīl said to me, ‘You need not consider that I am showing this young fellow undue respect. I tell you, if God preserves him, he will outshine not only Sergius but other translators as well.’ I should explain here that the Sergius to whom Jibrīl was alluding was Sergius of Resh ʿAynā, 16 who was the first to translate a number of Roman scientific works into the Syriac language. I remained at Jibrīl’s house for quite a long time after Ḥunayn had left, but when I did leave, I found him outside the front door, where he had been waiting for me to appear. After greeting me, he said, ‘I once asked you not to divulge what I had been up to, but now I should like you to make the matter known, including what you have just heard Abū ʿĪsā say about me.’ ‘I shall be making Yūḥannā feel like a fool when I tell him how I heard Abū ʿĪsā praise you to the skies,’ I said. ‘To make him feel even more of a fool, show him this,’ said Ḥunayn, taking from his sleeve a copy of the translation he had done for Jibrīl, ‘without telling him that it was I who translated it, and then, once you see that he thinks it really excellent, then tell him.’ I hastened to show the manuscript to Yūḥannā that very day, without so much as going home first. Having read those selections, which covered that part of the work that the Greeks 17 know as the ‘Factors’, he expressed the utmost astonishment. ‘Is it possible for someone in our present age to be inspired by Christ, do you think?’ he said. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘neither in our present age nor in any other. Christ has never inspired anyone; it is he himself who was inspired.’ ‘Spare me the sermon,’ said Yūḥannā, ‘I am sure this could have been produced only with the help of the Holy Ghost.’ ‘As a matter of fact,’ I said, ‘it is the work of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, whom you ordered out of your house and advised to sell doctored copper coins.’ ‘Impossible!’ he gasped. At length, however, he realized that I must be speaking the truth, and he begged me to use my good offices to effect a reconciliation between himself and Ḥunayn. I was able to bring this about, and from then on Yūḥannā treated Ḥunayn with the utmost respect and generosity, showering him with benefits. I observed this to be the case without interruption until I left Iraq in the year 225/840. This is everything that is recorded by Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. [8.29.4] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – say that Ḥunayn and Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh were closely associated from then on. Ḥunayn became Yūḥannā’s pupil and studied the art of medicine under his tutelage. At the same time, he translated numerous medical works for Yūḥannā, including works by Galen in particular, producing Syriac versions of some of them and Arabic versions of others. 18 Ḥunayn possessed a more complete mastery of the Greek, Syriac and Persian languages than any of his contemporaries. His knowledge and skills set him apart from the other translators of the age. In addition, he worked tirelessly to perfect his Arabic, and ultimately attained a position of eminence as an expert on that language as well. [8.29.5] The caliph al-Maʾmūn once reported that he had had a dream in which he seemed to see a distinguished-looking elderly gentleman sitting upon a pulpit, preaching; his name, he said, was Aristotle. 19 At that point, al-Maʾmūn awoke. Curious about his dream, he made enquiries as to who Aristotle was, and was informed that he had been a wise man of the Greeks. The caliph then had Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq summoned (for he knew of no other translator of comparable skill) and asked him to prepare Arabic translations of the works of the Greek philosophers. In return, he rewarded him lavishly with gold, silver and presents in abundance. I have taken the following account from a manuscript in the handwriting of al-Ḥasan ibn al-ʿAbbās, known as al-Ṣanādīqī, 20 may God have mercy upon him, here quoting Abū Sulaymān, 21 who in turn attributes the story to Yaḥyā ibn ʿAdī. 22 In the latter’s own words: Al-Maʾmūn said that he had seen in a dream, as one who is asleep may seem to see, a man seated on a chair in the room in which he held his audiences. ‘His appearance was so impressive that I was awestruck,’ al-Maʾmūn reported afterward, ‘so I asked who he was, and was told that he was Aristotle. I shall ask him a question, I said to myself, and did so forthwith: “What is the good?” I asked. “That which reason tells us is good,” he replied. “Then what?” I asked. “What revealed law (Sharia) tells us is good,” he said. “Then what?” I asked. “What the mass of the people consider to be good,” he answered. “Then what?” he himself added. “Then there is no then,” he said.’” This dream proved to be an important stimulus to the production of learned works. The caliph wrote to the Roman Emperor requesting his permission to select such scientific works of the ancients as were kept in the land of the Romans and have them brought to his capital. This was after al-Maʾmūn had defeated the Roman Emperor. 23 The Emperor initially refused, but finally agreed, whereupon the caliph dispatched a number of learned men for that purpose. These included al-Ḥajjāj ibn Maṭar, 24 Ibn al-Biṭrīq, 25 Salm, the superintendent of the Bayt al-ḥikmah , 26 and several others. They brought back a number of the works they found in the land of the Romans, and when they presented them to al-Maʾmūn, he had his scholars translate them. Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh is said to have been a member of the delegation that was sent to the land of the Romans as well. In addition to the others, al-Maʾmūn had Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq sent for. He was no more than a youth at the time, but the caliph instructed him to translate as many of the Greek philosophical works as he could into Arabic, and to revise the work of other translators. Ḥunayn said that he would do his best. Al-Maʾmūn is said to have paid Ḥunayn in gold, weight for weight, for the works he translated into Arabic. According to the account of Abū Sulaymān al-Manṭiqī al-Sijistānī, 27 the Banū Shākir – Muḥammad, Aḥmad and al-Ḥasan 28 – employed a number of translators, including Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Ḥubaysh ibn Ḥunayn, 29 Thābit ibn Qurrah 30 and others, paying each of them five hundred dinars monthly in return for his exclusive services. [8.29.6] Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq later confirmed that he travelled to many lands and went to the furthest reaches of the Roman Empire seeking works that he was interested in translating. 31 The following account is taken from the Fihrist of Muḥammad ibn Isḥāq al-Nadīm: 32 I have heard Isḥāq ibn Shahrām 33 assert at a public audience: In the land of the Romans there is a temple of antique construction with a door more enormous than any ever seen, made of iron, and with two leaves. In ancient times, when the Greeks worshipped stars and idols, they venerated that temple and prayed there. I asked the Roman Emperor to have the door opened for me, but he refused, saying that it had been closed ever since the time when the Romans converted to the Christian religion. But I continued to press him on the matter, both verbally, when I was attending one of his receptions, and by letter, and finally he ordered it opened. It proved to be built of marble and huge blocks of stone in various colours, with great numbers of strikingly beautiful inscriptions and carvings upon them; I had never heard of or imagined anything like it. In that temple were such quantities of ancient books that a number of camels would have been required to carry them all (in subsequent retellings of this story, Isḥāq ibn Shahrām kept making the number larger, until finally he put it at a thousand camels). Some of these books were falling to pieces, others were in good condition, while still others had been devoured by worms. Isḥāq ibn Shahrām’s account continues: There I saw golden instruments that had been used for offerings and various other precious objects. After I had left the temple, the door was closed again, for the Emperor’s permission to me to visit it had been an exceptional favour for me. That was in the days of Sayf al-Dawlah ibn Ḥamdān. He also asserted that the temple was located at a place three days’ journey from Constantinople. The people of that district, he said, were Ṣābians 34 and Chaldaeans, 35 whom the Romans allowed to practise their religions, but collected a tax from them. I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – add here that Ḥunayn’s secretary was a man by the name of al-Azraq. I have seen many of the works of Galen and other authors in his handwriting, some of them with annotations in Greek in Ḥunayn’s handwriting, and those books bore the seal of al-Maʾmūn. [8.29.7] The following account is taken from The Merits of Physicians , by ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ. 36 In due course, Ḥunayn became an authority in his domain and his fame became widespread among the physicians of the day, so that the caliph 37 himself heard of him. He was summoned to the court, and when he presented himself, the caliph granted him valuable estates in fee and a generous stipend. Ḥunayn was accustomed to dress his hair in the Roman fashion, and while the caliph heard frequently of the physician’s learning, he would not take any medicine prescribed by him until he had consulted another physician, for he harboured a persistent suspicion that Ḥunayn might be acting as an agent for the Roman Emperor against himself. With a view to settling the matter once and for all, he determined to put him to the test. He had Ḥunayn summoned one day, ordered a robe of honour brought for him, and produced a deed granting him an estate in fee that brought in fifty thousand dirhams in revenue. Ḥunayn thanked the caliph for his generosity, and they spoke of other things. Finally the caliph said, ‘I want you to prescribe a potion for me that will kill an enemy whom I should be glad to have out of the way. This cannot be done openly, so I want to have it done discreetly.’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Ḥunayn, ‘I know only medicines that do my patients good; I should never have thought that the Commander of the Faithful would seek to obtain any other kind from me. But if you wish, I shall go and learn about harmful ones.’ ‘That would be a long business,’ objected the caliph, and he proceeded to ply Ḥunayn with blandishments and threats by turns, but to no avail: the physician merely repeated what he had originally said. Finally the caliph lost patience and ordered Ḥunayn confined in one of his fortresses, detailing a man to report on him at regular intervals, day in and day out. Ḥunayn spent a full year in confinement. He showed no discomposure at his situation, but spent the entire time translating, commenting, and composing original works. At the end of the year, the caliph sent for him. When he arrived, he saw a well-filled purse laid out by way of enticement, along with a sword, a leathern mat, and other executioner’s instruments. ‘We meet again, Ḥunayn,’ said the caliph, ‘and the matter must be done as I described to you before. If you do as I asked, this purse is yours, and I have more in store for you. Refuse, and you must prepare to meet a dreadful fate.’ ‘As I have already told the Commander of the Faithful,’ replied Ḥunayn, ‘I am skilled only in respect of medicines that do good; I have no knowledge of other kinds.’ ‘Then I shall have you put to death!’ replied the caliph. ‘I rely on my Lord,’ said Ḥunayn calmly, ‘for He will justify me in the Great Place. If the Commander of the Faithful sees fit to wrong his own soul, he must do as he pleases.’ At this, the caliph smiled. ‘Be of good cheer, Ḥunayn,’ he said, ‘you may trust me: the purpose of all this charade was merely to put you to the test. I knew I was potentially vulnerable because of the wiles of kings and my own admiration for you, so I determined to put my mind at ease and make sure I could have confidence in you and benefit from your skill.’ At these words, Ḥunayn kissed the ground and thanked the caliph. ‘Tell me, Ḥunayn,’ the caliph continued, ‘what was it that prevented you from doing what I had asked you to do, even though it must have looked to you as though I meant what I said, both ways?’ ‘There were two things, Sire,’ Ḥunayn replied, ‘my religion and my profession.’ ‘Pray explain,’ said the caliph, and Ḥunayn went on, ‘Our religion commands us to do good and to show kindness even to our enemies; how much more, then should we behave in that way toward our friends and associates? And whoever fails to observe this commandment is excluded and banned from the community. My profession, for its part, prohibits me from doing harm to my fellow creatures, because it was instituted for their benefit and is intended only to do them good. Furthermore, God has made us physicians subject to an obligation, to which we must subscribe by solemn oaths, not to administer any lethal potion, nor anything harmful to our patients. I did not consider that I could contravene this twofold prohibition, and therefore I prepared myself to face execution. I was confident, you see, that God would not abandon one who had given up his life for the sake of His commandments, but would reward me.’ ‘Admirable laws, both of them,’ said the caliph approvingly, and he ordered a robe of honour to be brought for Ḥunayn and placed the purse in his hands, so that Ḥunayn left his presence wealthy and highly respected. [8.29.8] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – may add here that Ḥunayn had two sons, Dāwūd and Isḥāq. 38 Both of them studied the art of medicine, and their father composed manuals of instructions for them, designed to teach them its basic principles. He also translated many of the works of Galen for their benefit. I have not found any evidence that Dāwūd was noteworthy as a physician, nor does he seem to have left any written works as monuments to his skill and proficiency, apart from a single Compendium ( Kunnāsh ). Isḥāq, in contrast, became well known as a distinguished practitioner of the art of medicine and the author of numerous works on the subject. He also translated many Greek works into Arabic, but as a translator he dedicated himself primarily to the works of the philosophers, such as Aristotle and others. Their father, Ḥunayn, on the other hand, was interested mainly in translating medical works, and more particularly the works of Galen. We may say that, in general, all Galen’s works that we have at our disposal are translated versions by Ḥunayn, or else corrected by him in cases where the Arabic version is the work of another translator. Works that were translated by some other translator, such as Usṭāth, 39 Ibn Baks, 40 al-Biṭrīq, 41 Abū Saʿīd ʿUthmān al-Dimashqī, 42 or others, are less highly prized and are deemed less desirable than those that were translated or revised by Ḥunayn. This is owing to the fluency and attractiveness of his style, and also because he possessed extensive knowledge of the opinions expressed by Galen in his works and an effortless mastery of all this material. I have seen some of Galen’s Sixteen Books 43 in translations from Greek into Syriac by Sergius the physician, 44 and from Syriac into Arabic by Mūsā ibn Khālid the Translator. 45 When I read them and studied their phraseology closely, it was quite apparent to me that they were a very far cry indeed from the Sixteen Books in the translations of Ḥunayn. There is no comparison; the one version is stammering, the other, eloquence, the one is the earth, the other, the Pleiades. 46 Ḥunayn was also skilled in the art of treating eye diseases. 47 He is the author of many works on that subject that are renowned for their excellence. I have been informed by master Shihāb al-Dīn ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq al-Ṣiqillī, 48 the grammarian, that Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, along with Sībawayh 49 and a number of others, was a pupil of al-Khalīl ibn Aḥmad, 50 with whom he studied Arabic grammar. This is by no means impossible, for both of them lived during the reign of the caliph al-Maʾmūn. 51 Perusal of Ḥunayn’s original works and translations shows clearly what an elegant style he had and what an admirable grasp of Arabic grammar he possessed; indeed, he even composed works on the subject. [8.29.9] The following account is taken from the Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ wa-l-ḥukamāʾ , by Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān: 52 Ḥunayn once left Baghdad and went to the land of Persia, where he met al-Khalīl ibn Aḥmad, the grammarian, who was living there at the time, and became his disciple, with the result that he mastered the language of the Arabs. Subsequently, furthermore, Ḥunayn brought al-Khalīl’s K. al-ʿAyn 53 to Baghdad and made it known there. In due course, Ḥunayn was appointed by the caliph al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh to be in charge of a great translation project. He was provided with a staff of experienced translators, who produced the draft versions; they were then revised by Ḥunayn. The translators who worked under him included Iṣṭifan ibn Basīl 54 and Mūsā ibn Khālid the Translator. 55 Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān’s account continues: Ḥunayn served al-Mutawakkil ʿalā llāh as his personal physician, and during that time his career flourished. He always wore the girdle that marked him as a Christian. Alexandria was where he had learned his Greek. He was a master translator: it was he who explained terms used in the works of Hippocrates and Galen, prepared admirable summaries of those works, shed light on difficult passages in them, and resolved their problematic aspects. He also composed a number of elegant original works which are useful and instructive. His approach to the works of Galen was that of the Alexandrians: he recast them very skilfully into question-and-answer form. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq himself states in his treatise on the Catalogue of Galen that his entire collection of books was lost, not a single one remaining to him. 56 [8.29.10] The following account is taken from the History of Abū ʿAlī al-Qiyānī. 57 Every day, as soon as he had returned from his morning ride, Ḥunayn would enter the bath and have water poured over him. Upon emerging, he would muffle himself up in a heavy wrap. Meanwhile, a silver cup containing a raṭl of wine and a cake crumbled and sopped in the wine would have been prepared for him; he would eat the cake and drink the wine, and then he would lie down until he had sweated profusely, sometimes falling asleep. He would then get up and perfume himself with incense, and then his meal would be served. This consisted of a large, well-fattened capon prepared with sugar, almonds and vinegar, and a loaf of bread weighing two hundred dirhams. He would sip the broth, then eat the capon and the bread, and then sleep. When he awoke, he would drink four raṭls of old wine. Such was his fare throughout his entire life. Whenever he wanted fresh fruit, he would eat Syrian apples, pomegranates, and quinces. [8.29.11] The following account is taken from the work entitled Amusement and Entertainment ( K. al-Lahw wa-l-malāhī ), by Aḥmad ibn al-Ṭayyib al-Sarakhsī, 58 here quoting the physician Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq: During the reign of al-Mutawakkil, messengers from the caliph’s palace came to my house one night looking for me and saying that the caliph wanted me. They were followed by a whole group of others, then a second group, and finally Zarāfah himself; 59 he dragged me out of bed and set off with me at a run, finally showing me into the caliph’s presence with the words, ‘This is Ḥunayn, Sire.’ ‘Pay Zarāfah what I said I would give him,’ said al-Mutawakkil to his attendants, whereupon the servant was given a purse of thirty thousand dirhams. The caliph then turned to me and said, ‘I am hungry. What do you advise me to have for supper?’ so I suggested a menu. After he had finished his meal, I asked them why I had been summoned as I had been, and was informed that a singer had performed before the caliph, and that the caliph had asked who the composer of the song was and had been told that it was Ḥunayn ibn Balūʿ al-ʿIbādī. Al-Mutawakkil had then ordered Zarāfah to have him brought to the palace. ‘Unfortunately, I do not know him, O Commander of the Faithful,’ said Zarāfah. ‘I must have him,’ cried the caliph. ‘Bring him here, and you shall have thirty thousand dirhams.’ So he brought me instead, but by the time I got there, al-Mutawakkil had forgotten about the matter, owing to the date-wine that he had imbibed; he knew only that he felt hungry. So I advised him to drink no more date-wine, to have his supper and to retire to bed, and that is what he did. 60 I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – now continue. Ḥunayn was born in the year 194/809–810 and died during the reign of al-Muʿtamid ʿalā Allāh 61 on Tuesday 1 Kānūn of the year 1188 in the era of Alexander, 62 which corresponds to 6 Ṣafar 264 [18 November 877], when he was seventy years of age. 63 He is said to have died of chronic diarrhoea ( dharab ). [8.29.12] The following account is taken from the Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ wa-l-ḥukamāʾ , by Sulaymān ibn Ḥassān, known as Ibn Juljul: 64 Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, died of grief one night during the reign of al-Mutawakkil. I was informed of this by the vizier of the Commander of the Faithful, al-Ḥakam bi-Allāh. 65 In his own words: I and various others were with the Commander of the Faithful, al-Mustanṣir bi-Allāh, talking of this and that, when the caliph said, ‘Do you know how Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq died?’ We all said, ‘No, O Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘one day, al-Mutawakkil went out suffering from a hangover, and sat in his usual place, which was in the full eye of the sun. He had two physicians with him, the Christian al-Ṭayfūrī 66 and Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, and al-Ṭayfūrī said to him, “O Commander of the Faithful, the sun is harmful for a hangover.” “What do you say about that, Ḥunayn?” asked the caliph. “O Commander of the Faithful,” replied Ḥunayn, “the sun is not harmful for a hangover.” After listening to the two physicians dispute the matter for a few minutes, the caliph ordered each of them to demonstrate the soundness of his position. “Sire,” said Ḥunayn, “a hangover is the state of the person suffering from that condition. The sun is harmful, not to the hangover, but to the person who has it.” Al-Ṭayfūrī could think of absolutely nothing to say to this, while al-Mutawakkil remarked approvingly that Ḥunayn undoubtedly had a better grasp of the nature and definitions of words than his colleagues.’ ‘The very same day al-Ṭayfūrī drew from his sleeve a book in which there was an illustration of Christ on the cross, with a number of people about him, and showed it to Ḥunayn. “Are those the men who crucified Christ, Ḥunayn?” he asked. “Yes,” replied Ḥunayn. “Spit on them, then,” said al-Ṭayfūrī. “No, I will not,” said Ḥunayn. “And why not?” al-Ṭayfūrī demanded. “Because,” Ḥunayn explained, “they are not really the men who crucified Christ, but only a picture of them.” This reply enraged al-Ṭayfūrī, and he went to the caliph and asked him to allow a Christian religious tribunal to pass judgement on Ḥunayn. Al-Mutawakkil consulted the Catholicos and his bishops, and they all concluded that Ḥunayn had merited anathema. Accordingly, he was ceremoniously cursed seventy-fold in the presence of the whole Christian community, and his girdle was cut off. The caliph, for his part, announced that henceforth he would take no medicine prescribed by Ḥunayn unless al-Ṭayfūrī had overseen its preparation. Ḥunayn departed to his home home and died that very night, it is said of grief and chagrin.’ [8.29.13] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – say: Such is the account of Ibn Juljul, and I have found a similar account in the work entitled R. fī l-mukāfaʾah , by Aḥmad ibn Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm. 67 The reality is that Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl, 68 who was consumed with hatred and envy toward Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq because of his learning, his skill, his excellence as a translator and his worldly success, sought to turn al-Mutawakkil against him by means of slander and innuendo. He managed to make the caliph so suspicious that Ḥunayn fell out of favour and ultimately was imprisoned. But then God, exalted is He, came to his aid: Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl’s machinations became known, and Ḥunayn was released and restored to favour in the eyes of al-Mutawakkil, who gave him preference over Bukhtīshūʿ and all the other physicians, and he retained that status for the rest of his life. Ḥunayn finally fell ill and died in the year 264/877. 69 [8.29.14] I have been able to ascertain the truth of all this from none other than Ḥunayn himself, for I have come upon an epistle written by him in which he describes the trials and tribulations that befell him at the hands of the celebrated physicians of his time who were hostile to him. The following, then, is his own account, in his own handwriting: 70 I had to endure much from my enemies and those who persecuted me, displaying rank ingratitude for the benefits they had enjoyed at my hands, refusing to acknowledge my rights, oppressing me and harbouring hostility toward me. They subjected me to such a series of trials, misfortunes and calamities that I was unable to sleep; I lay miserably with my eyes wide open, and I was unfit to perform my duties. The reason was their envy of me for my learning and for the advantages that God, mighty and glorious is He, had granted me over my contemporaries. Most of them were my own kindred and family members! It was they who were the main source of my hardships and the root of my trials. After them came those whom I had taught, who had studied under me, whom I had treated generously, supported, and favoured over all the other practitioners of the art of medicine in the land. I had introduced them to the science of the great Galen, and in return for the good I had done them they repaid me with evil, in accordance with their natures. They spread the vilest calumnies about me while concealing whatever good qualities I had, with the result that my reputation was tainted; people looked at me askance. I was constantly watched; my words were scrutinized with intense suspicion, so that my slightest utterance, albeit quite innocent in intention, was taken to be full of significance. By these means, my enemies roused hatred against me, not only among adherents of my own religion, but among those of other religions as well; congregations were assembled expressly for the purpose of publicizing malicious interpretations of statements I had made. I unfailingly praised God and resolved to endure the tribulation, putting my trust in Him. My life became extremely difficult: I was imprisoned, and for a time my hand touched never a dinar, nor a dirham, 71 nor a book; I had not so much as a single page to read. And then God, mighty and glorious is He, looked upon me with a compassionate eye: He restored the blessings He had previously vouchsafed me and renewed His favour as I had known it before. My reversion to prosperity was attributable to a person who had been particularly and persistently hostile to me, and herein we may see that Galen was right in saying that the best men may reap advantage from their worst enemies. 72 By my life, that man was the best of enemies! [8.29.15] At this point, I propose to relate an account of how all the above came about. How should I not be hated, with the numbers of those who envy me so great and slanderous remarks about me at gatherings of important persons so prevalent? Large sums of money were expended on attempts on my life; those who reviled me grew strong, and those who honoured me were despised. I, for my part, was guilty of no offence; I had not wronged any of them in any way. But they saw that I had outdone them, that I knew more than they did and had achieved greater things than they, that I had translated great scientific works for them from languages that they were far from mastering, or of which they knew nothing at all. They perceived that my translations were admirable models of elegance and clarity, free of errors or defects, containing no bias in favour of any religion, and nothing ambiguous or ungrammatical. In saying this, I rely on the authority of acknowledged Arab experts on eloquence, scholars who are learned in all aspects of grammar and are familiar with uncommon expressions. None of them has ever detected an error of usage, an incorrect vowelling, or an injudicious shade of meaning, but only the most mellifluous and readily intelligible style. My works can be understood, admired and appreciated even by someone who is not himself a physician, knows nothing of philosophical method, and does not profess the Christian religion or any other religion; indeed, just such lay individuals regularly pay me substantial sums for works that I have translated, preferring them to the versions produced by others. I may also say unhesitatingly that other educated men of various religious persuasions have appreciated me, have shown me respect, have gratefully accepted what I gave them, and have repaid me handsomely. But these Christian physicians, whom I have known all their lives and who learned their art under my tutelage, most of them, are the very ones who want to see my blood shed, even though I am indispensable to them. ‘Who is Ḥunayn?’ they have been known to say. ‘He only translates these works because he is paid to translate them, after the fashion of any artisan; we fail to see any difference. A blacksmith may make a sword for a mounted warrior for a dinar or so, earning perhaps a hundred dinars a month by his trade. Now, Ḥunayn is a servant who makes the instrument that we use, but he does not use it himself, just as the blacksmith may be skilful at the craft of making a sword, but not at using one. A blacksmith will never be a mounted warrior. Similarly, a translator has nothing to say about the art of medicine. Ḥunayn has no skill in matters of illness and has never diagnosed a disease. He wants to be like us, that’s all, and to be known as Ḥunayn the Physician rather than Ḥunayn the Translator. He would do better to stick to his craft and desist from talking about our art; that would be advantageous for him, as he would get his hands on more of our money and we should show him more respect if he would stop taking pulses, examining phials of urine and prescribing medicines.’ They say, ‘Whenever Ḥunayn calls on a patient, regardless of whether the people of the house belong to the cream of society or the common folk, they snigger when he comes in, and they laugh behind his back when he leaves.’ Whenever I heard this kind of thing said, I was distressed to such an extent that I thought of killing myself from sheer exasperation and indignation. I had no way of striking back, for one man alone cannot resist a large number of enemies who are in league against him. All the while, however, I realized that they were doing what they did out of nothing but envy. They were well aware of the vicious nature of their behaviour, but envy has always motivated human actions. Anyone with some knowledge of religion will recall that the first envious person on earth was Cain, who killed his brother Abel because God had not accepted his offering, whereas He had accepted Abel’s. Envy thus being a phenomenon of such antiquity, it is not surprising that I, too, should be among those injured by it. But, as the saying goes, ‘Envy is its own punishment.’ Another saying runs, ‘The envious man will kill himself before he will ever kill his enemy.’ The ancient Arabs have coined many sayings about envy, and there are numerous passages of poetry dealing with the subject. Here is one example: 73 They may envy me; but I don’t blame them. Before me, people of merit have been envied. May I and they remain as we are, and may most of us 74 die from the wrath they feel! I am the one they will feel choking their hearts, moving neither up nor down! This poet and others have composed much more in a similar vein; it would be wearisome and unprofitable to quote them all. And yet, most of them, when confronted with a case of serious illness, would come to me to ask me to confirm the nature of the condition, prescribe the appropriate medicine and lay out a course of treatment. This happened so frequently that there can be no doubt that my advice was sound. Yet the physicians who came to consult me and accepted my recommendations were the very ones who denounced me most virulently and subjected me most frequently to vile slander. I, for my part, did not seek to defend myself, relying on the Lord of All to judge between me and my detractors. Why? Simply because there were not merely one, two or three of them, but fifty-six, all members of my own Christian faith. I did not need them, but they needed me; moreover, many of them served caliphs, the lords of the realm, and thus wielded considerably influence. I was weaker than they were in two respects: in the first place, I was alone against them, and in the second place, any people who were well-disposed toward me could not do without the main source of my enemies’ power, namely, the Commander of the Faithful. Despite all this, I did not complain to anyone about my situation, bad though it was. On the contrary, I would praise my detractors on official occasions, in the presence of eminent persons. Sometimes I would be told, ‘They openly disparage you and speak ill of you,’ but I would pretend that I did not believe such tales and refused to take the allegations seriously. ‘I am one of them,’ I would say, ‘we share the same religion, we are fellow-townsmen, and we practise the same profession; I do not believe that such men would slander anyone, least of all me.’ When my adversaries heard of this, they would say to one another, ‘He is alarmed, that’s why he holds his tongue.’ But the more they slandered me, the more I would praise them. [8.29.16] Here I propose to tell the story of the final pit that they dug for me, apart from the trouble I had long been having with them, especially that business with the Banū Mūsā 75 and the Galenists and the Hippocratics, which was the occasion of the first calumny against me. 76 What I am now about to relate is an account of my last and most recent trial. The physician Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl 77 had concocted a scheme against me which he brought off successfully and thus did me harm, as he had sought to do. He began by obtaining an icon bearing an image of Our Lady Mary holding Our Lord Jesus Christ in her lap, with angels all about them. It was very beautifully painted and most lifelike, and Bukhtīshūʿ had paid a high price for it. He had it sent to al-Mutawakkil, the Commander of the Faithful, taking care to ensure that he was there in person to take it from the hands of the servant who brought it in; he presented it to the caliph himself, and al-Mutawakkil said admiringly that it was very fine. Bukhtīshūʿ then proceeded to kiss the image repeatedly. ‘Why are you doing that?’ asked the caliph. ‘Whose image then should I kiss, Sire,’ answered Bukhtīshūʿ ‘if not that of Our Lady, the lord of all beings?’ ‘Do all you Christians do that?’ al-Mutawakkil asked. ‘Yes, we do, O Commander of the Faithful,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ, ‘and with greater fervour than this, for I am acting with exceptional restraint, being in your presence. But despite the preference of our Christian community, I know of one man who is in your service, enjoying the benefits and drawing a salary. Although a Christian, yet he despises her and spits on her. He is a miscreant and a heretic, who does not affirm the unity of God and knows nothing of the life to come. His Christianity is merely a cloak; in reality, he denies the existence of God and does not believe in the message of the prophets.’ ‘Who is the person you have been describing?’ asked al-Mutawakkil. ‘Ḥunayn, the translator,’ replied Bukhtīshūʿ. ‘I shall have him sent for,’ said the caliph, ‘and if the matter proves to be as you have stated, I shall make an example of him: I shall have him tortured repeatedly and made to suffer severely, and then I shall have him thrown into the Muṭbaq prison 78 and left there.’ ‘I should be greatly obliged if the Commander of the Faithful would wait an hour or so before having him brought in,’ said Bukhtīshūʿ. ‘Very well,’ said the caliph, and Bukhtīshūʿ took his leave. Immediately upon leaving the palace, he came straight to my house. ‘Abū Zayd,’ he said, ‘may God honour you, I must tell you that the Commander of the Faithful has been given an icon that he finds most impressive. It is a Syriac piece, I think. But the caliph has been saying how fine it is, and if we leave it in his possession and praise it in his hearing, he will urge us to share his enthusiasm for it on every possible occasion and say, “Look at this painting, it is your Lord and His mother.” He has already been at me about it. “Look at this painting,” he said, “isn’t it exquisite? Don’t you agree?” “Well, Sire,” I said to him, “it is a painting such as may be seen in baths and churches and other places that are decorated. It is of no interest and no importance to us.” “It means nothing to you, then?” he said. “Nothing,” I said. “If you are telling the truth,” he said, “let me see you spit on it.” So I spat on it, and then took my leave, while he roared with laughter. As you can imagine, I did that only to encourage him to throw the icon away and not keep badgering us about it and constantly throwing us into prominence. Someone might become resentful, and that would make matters worse. So if by any chance he sends for you and asks you the same sorts of questions that he put to me, it would be best for you to do what I did. I have already been to see those of our colleagues who attend his receptions and urged them to do the same.’ I swallowed his instructions and he was successful in making a complete fool of me. [8.29.17] Not more than an hour after he had left, a runner from the caliph arrived and escorted me to the palace. I saw the icon as soon as I entered; it was set before al-Mutawakkil. ‘Ḥunayn,’ he said, ‘would you not say that this picture is beautiful and impressive?’ ‘Oh, yes, indeed it is, O Commander of the Faithful,’ I agreed politely. ‘What do you think of it?’ he persisted. ‘Why, Sire,’ I said, ‘it is a painting, such as may commonly be seen in baths or churches or other places that are decorated with paintings.’ ‘But,’ he said, ‘is it not a picture of your Lord and His mother?’ ‘God forbid, O Commander of the Faithful,’ I said, ‘that God should be portrayed or that there should be a likeness of Him. This is a painting much like those seen in places in which paintings are used for embellishment.’ ‘In a word, then, it has no power, either for good or for ill?’ asked the caliph. ‘Exactly, O Commander of the Faithful,’ I said. ‘If that really is the case,’ he said, ‘spit on it.’ So I did spit on it, and no sooner had I done so than he had me arrested. The caliph then had the Catholicos, 79 Theodosius, sent for. As soon as he entered and saw the icon that was set before the caliph, even before having formally greeted al-Mutawakkil, he fell upon it, embraced it, and kissed it repeatedly, his eyes brimming with tears. Some of the servants went to restrain him, but the caliph motioned them back. After having kissed the icon at length in this manner, he took it, got to his feet, and treated al-Mutawakkil to an elaborate formal salutation. The caliph returned his greeting and bade the Catholicos be seated, whereupon he took a seat, cradling the icon on his knees. ‘What is this?’ said the caliph, ‘who are you to take something that was set before me and hold it on your knees without my permission?’ ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied the Catholicos, ‘I have a better claim to this object that was set before you, even though the rights of the Commander of the Faithful, may God prolong his life, are paramount. My religion does not allow me to leave an image of Christ and Our Lady on the floor in a place where its significance is not understood, or where perhaps there is no awareness that is has any significance. An image like this should be hung in a place where due honour is shown it, where lamps with the finest oils are kept burning before it, along with candles that are never snuffed, a place often fragrant with the most precious incense.’ ‘You may go on holding it for the time being,’ said al-Mutawakkil. ‘A boon, Sire,’ said the Catholicos. ‘Would the Commander of the Faithful give me this icon and grant me an estate in fee that will bring me one hundred thousand dinars in revenue yearly, so that I may ensure that the icon is shown the reverence that is its due? Then the Commander of the Faithful may ask of me what he will concerning the matter for which he had me sent for.’ ‘The image is yours,’ said the caliph, ‘but what I want you to tell me is, what should be done with a man who spat upon it, in your view?’ ‘If the man was a Muslim,’ replied the Catholicos, ‘no blame could be attached to him, for he would not be aware of the significance of this icon. In view of the gravity of his act, however, he should be informed about the matter and sternly rebuked, to ensure that he would not do such a thing again. If the offender was a Christian, but ignorant, so that he did not realize what he had done, he should be publicly rebuked, denounced, threatened with excommunication and anathema, and upbraided until he repented. I should say that, in general, such an act could be committed only by an ignorant person who had no understanding or religion. But if the offender was acting in full awareness of what he was doing, he would in effect have spat on Mary, the mother of Our Lord, and upon Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself.’ ‘What punishment would you consider appropriate for a person who had done such a thing?’ asked al-Mutawakkil. ‘O Commander of the Faithful,’ replied the Catholicos, ‘I have no authority to apply lash or rod, nor do I have a narrow cell in which to confine an offender, but I should declare him anathema, forbid him to enter a church or to receive the Eucharist, and forbid all Christians to associate with him or speak to him, thereby condemning him to isolation. He would remain an object of abhorrence to us all until such time as he repented and mended his ways. Once he had changed for the better, given some of his fortune as alms to the poor and needy, and purified himself with protracted fasting and prayer, we should apply the words of our Scripture: “Except ye forgive sinners, your sins shall not be forgiven you.” The anathema would be withdrawn, and we and he should be once again as we had originally been.’ At these words, the caliph told the Catholicos to take the icon and do with it as he would, and ordered that he should be given a bag of dirhams to spend on it. The Catholicos then left, while al-Mutawakkil remained lost in thought for a time, wondering at the prelate’s behaviour and his love and veneration for such an object of adoration. ‘A strange matter altogether,’ he remarked at length. [8.29.18] Then the caliph ordered me to be brought in. Calling for a whip and ropes, he ordered his men to strip me and tie me up, and I was given a hundred lashes then and there. He then ordered me held in close confinement and subjected to torture, while a gang of ruffians was sent to confiscate all my goods and chattels, furniture, books and such things. In addition, al-Mutawakkil ordered my houses demolished down to groundwater level. Meanwhile, I remained imprisoned in the palace for six months under dreadful conditions, so that any who caught sight of me could not but pity me. Furthermore, every few days he would send a number of toughs to beat me and torture me anew. I was subjected to this treatment until, after I had been in detention for three months and five days, the caliph was laid low by a grave illness. He was so severely stricken that he was unable even to move, and was given up for lost. He himself despaired of his life. However, the physicians who were my enemies never left his side for a moment, day or night, incessantly treating him, plying him with remedies, and all the while urging him to do something about me. ‘Our master the Commander of the Faithful would do well to dispose of that heretic and miscreant,’ they would say, ‘for ridding the world of him would relieve religion of a heavy burden.’ At length, after having endured some days of this sort of thing, al-Mutawakkil finally asked them, ‘What would you have me do with him?’ ‘Best to relieve the world of him altogether,’ they said. To make matters worse, whenever someone sympathetic to me would enquire about me or speak favourably about me to the caliph, Bukhtīshūʿ would say, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, this is one of his pupils and shares his opinions.’ There were few who were supporting me and many who were working against me, and I despaired of my life. After all this incessant badgering and insistence, the caliph finally agreed to have me put to death. ‘I shall have him executed tomorrow morning and thus relieve you of him,’ he told his physicians. They were delighted, and went home well pleased with themselves, while a flunky from the palace came to inform me of al-Mutawakkil’s decision. Forthwith I prayed to God mighty and glorious, asking Him to favour me once more with the grace that I had previously known at His hands, for I was sorely distressed and heavy of heart at what was to befall me on the morrow. I had done nothing to deserve such a fate; I was guilty of no crime, but rather was a victim of those who had conspired against me and were determined to have me murdered. ‘O God,’ I prayed, ‘You know that I am innocent, and it is fitting that You should come to my aid.’ Having done this, I lay brooding until finally I fell asleep. [8.29.19] The next thing I knew, I was being shaken and a voice in my ear was saying, ‘Arise, praise and glorify God, and take heart, for God has delivered you from your enemies and placed the health of the Commander of the Faithful in your hands.’ I awoke in terror, but then reflected, ‘I have frequently invoked Him while awake; why should I doubt that it is He who has come to me in a dream?’ and I praised and glorified God until the dawn. In due course the keeper appeared and opened the door of my cell. It was not his usual time, and I thought, ‘This is a bad sign. It is going to happen after all, just as I was told yesterday. My enemies are about to have the satisfaction of witnessing my downfall,’ and I prayed to God for help. But hardly had the keeper taken his seat when a slave-boy entered with a barber in tow. ‘Up you get, you lucky fellow,’ said the keeper, ‘you are about to have your hair cut.’ My hair was trimmed, and then I was taken to the bath, where I was washed clean and anointed with perfume, for so our master, the Commander of the Faithful, had ordered. When I emerged from the bath, I was arrayed in fine clothes and then taken to the keeper’s lodge, where I waited until all the physicians had assembled before the caliph, each in his assigned place. Finally the caliph called out, ‘Bring Ḥunayn in!’ The physicians were quite sure that they were about to see me executed. I was ushered into the salon. Al-Mutawakkil looked at me and motioned for me to come closer, finally bidding me be seated immediately in front of him. Then he spoke: ‘I have forgiven you for the sin you committed, acceding to the request of one who has spoken for you. Praise God, then, for your life. Now take my pulse and prescribe whatever treatment you think fit, for I have been ill for a long time.’ I took his pulse and advised him to take purging cassia 80 fruit pulp and manna, 81 together with the other ingredients in the usual formula for the use of that medication, for he was suffering from constipation. My enemies, the other physicians, urged him not to touch it. ‘God forbid, Sire,’ they chorused, ‘some dreadful mischief is certain to befall you if you take that medicine.’ ‘Silence, the lot of you!’ roared the caliph. ‘I have been told to take whatever he prescribes for me,’ and he ordered the medicine prepared immediately. It was brought in, and he swallowed it then and there. Then al-Mutawakkil spoke to me. ‘Ḥunayn,’ he said, ‘I must beg your pardon for what I did to you. A very powerful person has interceded with me on your behalf.’ ‘I pardon you willingly, Sire,’ I replied, ‘and how could I do otherwise, since you have spared my life?’ The caliph then turned to the assembled physicians. ‘I want you all to listen carefully to what I am about to say,’ he said to them, and they all hearkened attentively. ‘When you all left yesterday evening,’ he went on, ‘you were aware that I intended to have Ḥunayn put to death this morning, as I had told you I would do. Afterward, I lay awake in severe pain for half the night, but finally fell asleep and had a dream. In my dream, I was sitting in a narrow place. You physicians were there, but you were a long way off, with my household staff and retinue. I was saying to you, “You wretched crew, why are you looking at me like that? What are we doing here? Is this a fitting place for such a person as myself?” but you answered not a word. In the midst of all this, a great, terrifying light suddenly shone upon me in that place. As I sat there petrified with fear, I became aware that somehow there was a man standing beside me, a man with a face glorious in its beauty, and with another man, dressed in fine clothing, standing behind him. He greeted me, and I returned his greeting. Then he asked, “Do you know who I am?” “No,” I answered, whereupon he said, “I am Jesus Christ.” This caused me to quake with alarm. “Who is that person with you?” I asked. “Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq,” Christ replied. “Please excuse me,” I said, “but I am unable to stand to shake hands with you.” 82 “ You are to excuse Ḥunayn,” he said, “and forgive him for his sin, for that is what God has done. You are also to take whatever he advises you to take. Do that, and you will recover from your illness.”’ [8.29.20] ‘I then awoke,’ the caliph went on, ‘overcome with distress at the suffering I had caused to be inflicted upon Ḥunayn and reflecting on the powerful intercessor who had approached me on his behalf. It is now incumbent upon me to ensure that justice is done. I am dismissing the lot of you: Ḥunayn shall henceforth be my attending physician, in accordance with Christ’s bidding. Furthermore, those of you who demanded that I have him put to death shall be liable for the blood-price. Every one of you who was here last night is to bring me ten thousand dirhams, and any of you who fails to pay that amount will be beheaded. Those who were not present are not liable and are not required to pay.’ Turning to me, he then said, ‘You may take your seat and assume the duties of your office.’ All the assembled physicians hurriedly took their leave, and every one of them returned shortly with ten thousand dirhams. Once all that coin had been gathered together, the caliph ordered an equal amount to be added from his own treasury and the total given to me; it came to more than two hundred thousand dirhams. By the time the day was drawing to a close, the medicine I had administered had sent al-Mutawakkil to the lavatory three times, with the result that he was greatly relieved and feeling better. ‘Ḥunayn,’ he said, ‘you shall have whatever you wish, for I have the utmost regard for you, and you shall enjoy much greater prestige than you formerly did. I shall compensate you many times over for what you have lost, make your enemies subject to your authority, and raise you in rank above all other practitioners of your art.’ He then ordered that three houses belonging to him should be fitted up for me, such houses as I had never lived in, nor ever known any other physician to live in, in all my life. They were valuable houses, worth thousands of dinars. The caliph had them formally conveyed into my possession, with documents signed in the presence of witnesses, for he wished to ensure that they should be my property and the property of my descendants, and that no one should have any grounds for challenging my ownership of them. Once this was done, he had the houses fitted out with everything I might need in the way of vessels, carpets, utensils, books and the like. All this he did out of affection and regard for me. Once the houses had been fully furnished and fitted and hung with curtains of various kinds in accordance with al-Mutawakkil’s instructions, nothing remained but for me to move in. The caliph had the money, by now swollen to a great total, placed in my hands. He then arranged for me to be carried thither with five of his own finest mules, splendidly equipped, and he also gave me three Roman servants. Furthermore, he ordered that I was to be paid fifteen thousand dirhams a month, besides a lump-sum payment covering all the time I had been in prison, which made a very handsome total indeed. In addition to all this, the caliph’s household staff, the ladies of the harem, the remainder of his retinue and his family all contributed incalculable quantities of coin, robes of honour and estates in fee. The functions I had formerly performed amid the general populace, outside the caliph’s palace, I performed henceforth inside it. I became al-Mutawakkil’s chief physician, with all the others, friends and enemies both, subject to my authority. Thanks to the hostility of malevolent individuals, then, I attained complete felicity; as Galen says, good men may benefit from the actions of their wicked adversaries. Galen certainly had to endure severe trials, but, by my life, they were trifling compared to mine! I found that as often as not, the first person to come to my door in the morning to seek my influence in obtaining a favour from the Commander of the Faithful, or to consult me about some illness that had baffled him, would be one of those enemies at whose hands I had known the hardships that I have described. And, by the truth of my Lord, who is the First Cause, I would promptly do favours for them and act toward them with sincerity. Never did I seek to avenge myself upon a single one of them for what he had done to me. I became an object of wonder for my willingness to oblige these physicians, once it became known what they had said about me, quite openly, and even in the presence of the Commander of the Faithful. Moreover, I would translate books for them, as meticulously as always, without charging them anything, so anxious was I to show my good will toward them, whereas formerly it had been usual, whenever I translated a work for one of them, for me to be paid a purse of silver dirhams equal in weight to the translated work. [8.29.21] I – Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah – here insert the following comment. I have found large numbers of these works, and have purchased a good many of them. They are written in muwallad Kūfic script in the handwriting of al-Azraq, Ḥunayn’s secretary. The letters are written very large, with broad strokes, and the lines are widely spaced. The paper is very heavy, being three or four times as thick as the paper manufactured nowadays, while the sheets are trimmed to about one third the size of a sheet of Baghdādī paper. Ḥunayn had his works published in that fashion to make them bulkier and increase their weight, inasmuch as he was paid weight for weight in silver dirhams. It is thus clear that he used that particular type of paper deliberately. Small wonder, then, that the manuscripts have lasted so well for so long. Resuming Ḥunayn’s narrative: I have set forth the foregoing account only to help the intelligent reader understand that trial and tribulation may befall anyone, be he wise or foolish, strong or weak, old or young. This being the case, as it undoubtedly is – misfortune may strike anyone – a reasonable man should never despair of God’s providence or the prospect of deliverance from his predicament. Rather, he should cling fast to his trust in his Creator, lauding and glorifying Him. Praised be God, who granted me a second life and enabled me to overcome the wicked machinations of my enemies, raising me above them in rank and position. Praised be He now and forevermore! Here ends the account of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq in his own words, which I have reproduced faithfully in full. [8.29.22] A favourite saying of Ḥunayn’s was, ‘The night is the erudite man’s day.’ 83 Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq is the author of the following works: Questions ( K. al-masāʾil ), 84 which is an introduction to the art of medicine. This work is a compilation of propositions and summaries comprising the principles and fundamental underpinnings of this branch of learning. Not all of it is by Ḥunayn, for it was completed by his pupil, Ḥubaysh al-Aʿsam. 85 That is the reason why Ibn Abī Ṣādiq 86 states in his Commentary: ‘Ḥunayn collected the materials for this work on odd sheets of paper and prepared draft versions, but made a final copy of only part of it during his lifetime; it was his pupil and nephew, Ḥubaysh ibn al-Ḥasan, who not only edited the rest but added some more material of his own composition to the corpus previously gathered by Ḥunayn. For that reason, the work should properly be entitled Questions, by Ḥunayn, with additions by Ḥubaysh al-Aʿsam . Manuscripts of this work usually contain a statement to the effect that Ḥubaysh’s additions are to be found beginning with the part dealing with the four periods of diseases and on from there to the end.’ Ibn Abī Ṣādiq, however, asserts that they are restricted to the part dealing with theriac. As evidence, he points to the statement, ‘Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq composed two treatises containing comments on Galen’s observations relating to theriac.’ Had that statement been Ḥunayn’s own, it would have been worded as follows: ‘I composed two treatises containing comments,’ etc. Ḥunayn is said to have begun the composition of this work during the reign of al-Mutawakkil, after the caliph had appointed him chief physician in Baghdad. Ten Treatises on the Eye ( K. al-ʿashr maqālāt fī l-ʿayn ). 87 There is a good deal of variation among manuscripts of this work. Moreover, the several treatises are not organized on the same plan, some of them being brief, covering their subject in a small compass, while others are needlessly dis-cursive and drawn out to an excessive length. That is because each of the treatises was composed as a discrete entity, no consideration having been given to its integration with the others as components of the work as a whole, and the reason why that is the case is to be found in the final treatise, where the author tells us, ‘In response to requests from various individuals over a period of thirty-odd years, I composed a number of treatises on the eye, dealing with different aspects of the subject.’ He goes on to say, ‘Ḥubaysh then suggested to me that I should collect them and make a single book out of them, and that to the nine treatises that were already written I should add a tenth consisting of a summary presentation of the compound medicines used by the physicians of antiquity as expounded in their works on disorders of the eye.’ Here follows a list of the subjects with which the treatises comprising this work are concerned. Treatise i . Nature and structure of the eye. Treatise ii . Nature and functions of the brain. Treatise iii . The optic nerve, the visual pneuma, and the essence of sight itself. Treatise iv . The factors that are necessary for the preservation of health and its varieties. Treatise v . Causes of the accidental phenomena observed in the eye. Treatise vi . Symptoms of disorders that occur in the eye. Treatise vii . General discussion of the properties of drugs. Treatise viii . The various kinds of remedies that are specific to disorders of the eye. Treatise ix . The treatment of disorders of the eye. Treatise x . Compound drugs that are appropriate for treating diseases of the eye. In addition to these, I (Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah) have found an eleventh treatise by Ḥunayn that also belongs to this book; it deals with the therapeutic treatment of disorders occurring in the eye. On the eye ( K. fī l-ʿayn ), 88 a work in question-and-answer format that was written for Ḥunayn’s two sons, Dāwud and Isḥāq. It comprises three treatises containing two hundred and nine questions. Compendium of Galen’s Sixteen Books ( Ikhtiṣār al-sitt ʿashar kitāban li-Jālīnūs ), a work in question-and-answer format, again prepared by Ḥunayn for his two sons. Indeed, most of Ḥunayn’s works in that format were composed for them. On theriac ( K. al-tiryāq ), comprising two treatises. Compendium of Galen’s On Simple Drugs ( Ikhtiṣār kitāb Jālīnūs fī l-adwi-yahal-mufradah ), 89 comprising eleven treatises. Ḥunayn prepared a compendium of this work in Syriac, but translated only the first part (the first five treatises) into Arabic, at the behest of ʿAlī ibn Yaḥyā. 90 Essay listing the works of Galen that have been translated and some that have not ( M. fī dhikr mā turjima min kutub Jālīnūs wa-baʿḍ ma lam yutarjam ). 91 Ḥunayn composed this work for ʿAlī ibn Yaḥyā al-Munajjim. Treatise consisting of a definitive list of works not mentioned by Galen in the Catologue of his books ( M . fī thabt al-kutub allatī lam yadhkurhā Jālīnūs fī fihrist kutubihī ), 92 but which in the author’s judgement are undoubtedly by Galen; he reasons that they must be later than Onmy Own Books . His apologia ( M. fī ʿtidhārihī ) for Galen for the seventh book of his On the Doctrines of Hippocrates and Plato . 93 Digest of Galen’s On Types of Abnormal Swellings ( Jumal maqālat Jālīnūs fī aṣnāf al-ghilaẓ al-khārij ʿan al-ṭabīʿah ), 94 arranged in question-and-answer format. Summary of Galen’s On the Wasting Disease ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb Jālīnūs fī ldhubūl ), 95 arranged in question-and-answer format. Summary of Galen’s The Best Doctor is Also a Philosopher ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb Jālīnūs fī anna al-ṭabīb al-fāḍil yajibu an yakūna faylasūfan ), 96 arranged in question-and-answer format. Summary of Galen’s On the Authentic and Inauthentic Works of Hippocrates ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb Jālīnūs fī kutub Abuqrāṭ al-ṣaḥīḥah wa-ghayr al-ṣaḥīḥah ). 97 Summary of Galen’s Exhortation to the Study of the Arts ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb Jālīnūs fī l-ḥathth ʿalā taʿallum al-ṭibb ), 98 arranged in question-and-answer format. Summary of Galen’s On Semen ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb al-manī li-Jālīnūs ), 99 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on Hippocrates’ Aphorisms ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb al-fuṣūl li-Abuqrāṭ ), 100 arranged in question-and-answer format, in seven chapters. Ḥunayn translated the whole of this work into Syriac, but only the first four chapters into Arabic; the three remaining chapters were translated into Arabic by ʿĪsā ibn Ṣaharbukht. 101 Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on the Prognosticon of Hippocrates ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb taqdimat al-maʿrifah ), 102 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on Hippocrates’ Work on Regimen in Acute Diseases ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb Abuqrāṭ fī tadbīr al-amrāḍ al-ḥāddah ), 103 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on Hippocrates’ Work on Wounds in the Head ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb Abuqrāṭ fī jirāḥāt al-raʾs ), 104 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of the seventeen extant chapters of Galen’s Commentary on Book I of Hippocrates’ Epidemics ( Thimār al-sabʿa ʿashrah maqālah al-mawjūdah min tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb abīdhīmīyā li-Abuqrāṭ ), 105 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on Hippocrates’ Work In the Surgery ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb Qāṭīṭrīyūn li-Abuqrāṭ ), 106 arranged in question-and-answer format. Fruits of Galen’s Commentary on Hippocrates’ Work on Airs, Waters and Places ( Thimār tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb Abuqrāṭ fī l-ahwiyah wa-l-azminah wa-l-buldān ), 107 arranged in question-and-answer format. Explanation of Hippocrates’ On Airs, Waters and Places ( Sharḥ kitāb al-hawāʾ wa-l-māʾ wa-l-masākin ), 108 unfinished. Explanation of Hippocrates’ work On Food ( Sharḥ kitāb al-ghidhāʾ li-Abuqrāṭ ). 109 Fruits of the Third Part of Galen’s commentary on Hippocrates’ On the Nature of Man ( Thimār al-maqālah al-thālithah min tafsīr Jālīnūs li-kitāb ṭabīʿat al-insān li-Abuqrāṭ ). 110 Selections from Epidemics ( Fuṣūl istakhrajahā min kitāb abīdhīmīyā ). 111 Hippocrates’ On Eighth-Month Births ( Thimār kitāb Abuqrāṭ fī l-mawlūdīn li-thamāniyat ashhur ). 112 Selections from On Airs, Waters and Places , together with material on airs and places in Hippocrates’ Aphorisms with Galen’s commentary ( Fuṣūl istakhrajahā min kitāb al-ahwiyah wa-l-buldān wa-mimmā fī kitāb al-fuṣūl min al-kalām fī l-ahwiyah wa-l-buldān bi-tafsīr Jālīnūs ). 113 Treatise on regimen for convalescents ( M. fī tadbīr al-nāqihīn ), which Ḥunayn wrote at the behest of Abū Jaʿfar Muḥammad ibn Mūsā. 114 On aloes-wood pastilles ( R. fī quraṣ al-ʿūd ). Letter addressed to al-Ṭayfūrī 115 on rose pastilles ( R. ilā l-Ṭayfūrī fī quraṣ al-ward ). Three treatises addressed to al-Muʿtamid 116 in reply to his question concerning the distinction between food and purgative medicine (K. ilā l-Muʿtamid fīmā saʾalahū ʿanhu min al-farq bayn al-ghidhāʾ wa-l-dawāʾ almus′hil, thalāth maqālāt ). Three treatises on the properties of foods ( K. quwā l-aghdhiyah, thalāth maqālāt ). How religion is to be understood ( K. fī kayfiyyat idrāk al-diyānah ). 117 Questions on urine, extracted from Hippocrates’ work On Epidemics 118 ( Masāʾil fī l-bawl intazaʿahā min kitāb abīdhīmīyā li-Abuqrāṭ ). On the development of the chick ( K. fī tawallud al-farrūj ), in which the author explains that the chick develops from the white of the egg, and that the yolk of the egg is what nourishes it. Questions taken from the Four Books of Logic 119 ( Masāʾil istakhrajahā min kutub al-manṭiq al-arbaʿah ). On symptoms ( M. fī l-dalāʾil ), in which the author describes categories of symptoms that will serve to identify any disorder. On the pulse ( K. fī l-nabḍ ). On fevers ( K. fī l-ḥummayāt ). On urine ( K. fī l-bawl ), consisting of excerpts from material by Hippocrates and Galen. 120 Two treatises on the diagnosis and treatment of abdominal pain ( K. fī maʿrifat awjāʿ al-maʿidah wa-ʿilājihā, maqālatān ). 121 On the states of the organs ( K. fī ḥālāt al-aʿḍāʾ ). On vegetable juices ( M. fī māʾ al-buqūl ). On dryness ( K. fī l-yabs ). On preserving the teeth and gums ( K. fī ḥifẓ al-asnān wa-l-lithah ). 122 On infants born at eight months ( K. fīman yūlad li-thamāniyat ashhur ), in question-and-answer format. Ḥunayn composed this work for an umm walad 123 of al-Mutawakkil’s. On examining physicians ( K. fī imtiḥān al-aṭibbāʾ ). 124 On the natures of foods and bodily regimen ( K. fī ṭabāʾiʿ al-aghdhiyah watadbīr al-abdān ). On the names of simple drugs, arranged in alphabetical order ( K. asmāʾ al-adwiyah al-mufradah ʿalā ḥurūf al-muʿjam ). On his Arabic questions 125 ( K. fī masāʾilihi al-ʿarabiyyah ). On the nomenclature of parts of the body, in accordance with Galenic ordering ( K. fī tasmiyat al-aʿḍāʾ ʿalā mā rattabahā Jālīnūs ). On the structure of the eye ( K. fī tarkīb al-ʿayn ). On the ebb and flow of the tides 126 ( M. fī l-madd wa-l-jazr ). On the effects of the Sun and Moon ( K. fī afʿāl al-shams wa-l-qamar ). On regimen for melancholics ( K. fī tadbīr al-sawdāwiyyīn ). On regimen for good health through food and drink ( K. fī tadbīr al-aṣiḥḥāʾ bi-l-maṭʿam wa-l-mashrab ). On milk ( K. fī l-laban ). On regimen for patients with dropsy ( K. fī tadbīr al-mustasqīn ). On the secrets of compound drugs ( K. fī asrār al-adwiyah al-murakkabah ). On the secrets of the philosophers concerning sexual intercourse ( K. fī asrār al-falāsifah fī l-bāh ). Summary of the book On Heavens and the World ( Jawāmiʿ kitāb al-samāʾ wa-l -ʿ ālam ). 127 On logic (K. fī l-manṭiq ). On grammar ( K. fī l-naḥw ). On the creation of mankind, and why human beings’ dependent condition is a benefit and a blessing for them 128 ( M. fī khalq al-insān wa-annahu min maṣlaḥatihi wa-l-tafaḍḍul ʿ alayhi juʿila muḥtājan ). On a course of reading preliminary to the study of the works of Plato ( K. fīmā yuqraʾ qabla kutub Aflāṭūn ). On the generation of fire between two stones 129 ( M. fī tawallud al-nār bayna l-ḥajarayn ). Useful extracts ( K. al-fawāʾid ). On the bath ( M. fī l-ḥammām ). On lifespans ( M. fī l-ājāl ). 130 On ticklishness ( M. fī l-daghdaghah ). On shortness of breath ( M. fī ḍīq al-nafas ). On differences in taste ( K. fī khtilāf al-ṭuʿūm ). Three treatises on the anatomy of the alimentary system ( K. fī tashrīḥ ālāt al-ghidhāʾ, thalāth maqālāt ). Commentary on Hippocrates’ On Breaths 131 ( Tafsīr kitāb al-nafkh li-Abuqrāṭ ). Commentary on Rufus’ On the Preservation of Health 132 ( Tafsīr kitāb ḥifẓ al -ṣ iḥḥah li-Rūfus ). Commentary on Galen’s Book of Secret Remedies 133 ( Tafsīr kitāb al-adwiyah al-maktūmah li-Jālīnūs ), in which Ḥunayn comments in detail on Galen’s discussion of each medication. On predestination as evidence for the unity of God ( R. fī dalālat al-qadar ʿalā l-tawḥīd ). Letter addressed to Salmawayh ibn Bunān 134 in response to his request for a translation of Galen’s On Habits ( R. ilā Salmawayh ibn Bunān ʿammā saʾalahū min tarjamat maqālat Jālīnūs fī l-ʿādāt ). 135 Two treatises on the rules of grammatical inflection, in accordance with the method of the Greeks 136 (K. fī aḥkām al-iʿrāb ʿalā madhhab al-yūnāniyyīn, maqālatān ). How the sea has come to consist of salt water 137 ( K. fī l-sabab alladhī min ajlihī ṣārat miyāh al-baḥr māliḥah ). On colours ( M. fī l-alwān ). On the Categories 138 according to the opinion of Themistius 139 ( K. qāṭīghūriyās ʿalā raʾy Thāmisṭiyūs ). On the formation of calculi ( M. fī tawallud al-ḥaṣāh ). On choosing caustic remedies ( M. fī khtiyār al-adwiyah al-muḥriqah ). On the waters in baths, in question-and-answer format ( K. fī miyāh al-ḥammāmāt ʿalā ṭarīq al-masʾalah wa-l-jawāb ). Stories of the philosophers and men of wisdom and of the culture of the teachers of old ( K. nawādir al-falāsifah wa-l-ḥukamāʾ wa-ādāb almuʿallimīn al-qudamāʾ ). 140 The handbook that he abridged from Paul’s book 141 ( Kunnāshikhtaṣarahū min kitāb Būlus ). On the classifications of illnesses of the eye ( M. fī taqāsīm ʿilal al-ʿayn ). On choosing remedies for illnesses of the eye ( K. ikhtiyār adwiyat ʿilal al-ʿayn ). On epilepsy ( M. fī l-ṣarʿ ). On agriculture ( K. al-filāḥah ). On the integration of matters upon which the two great masters, Hippocrates and Galen, were in agreement ( M. fī l-tarkīb mimmā wāfaqahū ʿalayhi al-fāḍilān Abuqrāṭ wa-Jālīnūs ). On dependency on preserving health and other matters ( M. tataʿallaq bi-ḥifẓ al-ṣiḥḥah wa-ghayrihā ). On celestial influences 142 ( Kalām fī l-āthār al-ʿulwiyyah ). On the rainbow ( M. fī qaws quzaḥ ). On the history of the world: the creation, prophets, kings, nations, caliphs, and kings since the time of Islam ( K. taʾrīkh al-ʿālam wa-l-mabdaʾ wa-lanbiyāʾ wa-l-mulūk wa-l-umam wa-l-khulafāʾ wa-l-mulūk fī l-islām ). In this work, the author begins with Adam and those who came after him. He lists the kings of the Banū Isrāʾīl and the kings of the Greeks and Romans, then gives an account of the advent of Islam, the rulers of the Umayyads and those of the Abbasids, down to the time in which Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq himself lived, namely the reign of the caliph al-Mutawakkil ʿalā Allāh. Resolution of some of the doubts of Gessius of Alexandria 143 about Galen’s On the Affected Parts 144 ( Ḥall baʿḍ shukūk Jāsiyūs al-Iskandarānī ʿalā kitāb al-aʿḍāʾ al-ālimah li-Jālīnūs ). On his trials and tribulations ( R. fīmā aṣābahū min al-miḥan wa-l-shadāʾid ). 145 Letter to ʿAlī ibn Yaḥyā 146 replying to his invitation to the author to adopt the Islamic faith ( K. ilā ʿAlī ibn Yahyā jawāb kitābihī fīmā daʿāhu ilayhi min dīn al-Islām ). Contents of Hippocrates’ Epidemics, Books i , ii and iii , 147 arranged in question-and-answer format ( Jawāmiʿ mā fī l-maqālah al-ūlā wa-l-thāniyah wa-l-thālithah min kitāb Abīdhīmiyā li-Abuqrāṭ ʿalā ṭarīq al-masʾalah wa-l-jawāb ). On the development of the foetus, comprising all that Galen and Hippocrates say on the subject ( M. fī kawn al-janīn jamʿ min aqāwīl Jālīnūs wa-Buqrāṭ ). Summary of ancient Greek commentaries on Aristotle’s work, On the Heavens and the World ( Jawāmiʿ tafsīr al-qudamāʾ al-yūnāniyyīn li-kitāb Arisṭūṭālīs fī l-samāʾ wa-l-ʿālam ). 148 Questions preliminary to Porphyry’s Isagoge , 149 which should be read before the Isagoge itself ( Masāʾil muqaddamah li-kitāb Furfūriyūs al-ma ʿ- rūf bi-l-mudkhal wa-yanbaghī an yuqraʾ qabla kitāb Furfūriyūs ). Interpretation of Aristotle’s Physiognomica ( Sharḥ kitāb al-firāsah li-Arisṭū ). 150 On counteracting harmful effects from certain foods ( K. dafʿ maḍārr al-aghdhiyah ). On cosmetics ( K. al-zīnah ). On the occult properties of stones ( K. khawāṣṣ al-aḥjār ). 151 On veterinary medicine ( K. al-bayṭarah ). 152 On preserving teeth ( K. ḥifẓ al-asnān ). 153 On the perception of the true nature of different religions ( K. fī idrāk ḥaqīqat al-adyān ). 154 Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, see Sezgin, gas iii , 247–257; gas iv , 337–338; Ullmann, Medizin , 115–119, 205–206, and passim ; dsb art. ‘Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq al-ʿIbādī, Abū Zayd’ (G.C. Anawati & A.Z. Iskandar); Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 680–704. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. The autobiographical portions of this entry were translated by Michael Cooperson in Reynolds, Interpreting the Self , 107–118; see also Cooperson, ‘Purported Autobiography’. 2 It is generally agreed that the name is actually al-ʿIbādī; see ei Three art. ‘Ḥunayn b. Isḥāq al-ʿIbādī’ (G. Strohmaier): ‘His nisba al-ʿIbādī indicates that he hailed from the Christian Arab community in al-Ḥīra, the old city of the Lakhmid kings in Southern Iraq, being thus a member of the Syrian “Apostolic Church of the East”, often called Nestorian.’ Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ʿArab, ʿ bd , mentions al-ʿAbād as an alternative, but it is generally considered an error (e.g. al-Fīrūzābādī, Qāmūs ). 3 A town on the Euphrates, southwest of the modern Najaf, in Iraq. It was the capital of the Lakhmid dynasty during the three centuries before the advent of Islam. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Ḥīra’ (A. Beeston & I. Shahîd). 4 Cf. Barhebraeus, Mukhtaṣar , 250: ‘with regard to their shameful label of “servants” (using the term ʿibād ), they were a Christian Syrian sect who aligned themselves with Christianity but lived apart from people in forts they established outside al-Ḥīrah. They called themselves ʿibād because the word may only be applied to the Creator whereas the term ʿabīd (‘servants’) may be applied to the created and the creator’. Cf. also Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 172–173. 5 Metre: munsariḥ . The poet is Abū Nuwās; see his Dīwān , iii:105. 6 I.e., by a young Christian boy. 7 A 2nd/8th cent. philologist, father of the science of Arabic grammar and metrics. But Ḥunayn cannot have studied under him, since al-Khalīl died before Ḥunayn was born. 8 I.e., Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm ibn al-Dāyah. A source frequently quoted by iau ; see Ch. 8.3.6 n. 15 . Cf. Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 174–175. 9 De sectis . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 4. 10 Zarnīkh , a sulphide of arsenic, deep yellow in colour, formerly widely used as a pigment, and also of interest to alchemists because of its resemblance to gold. 11 Mentioned in Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (ed. Flügel, 244) as one of the early translators at the time of the ascendancy of the Barmak family. 12 Ṭūs: an ancient city in the Razavi Khorasan [Raḍawī Khurāsān] Province of Iran. It is located near Mashhad. To the ancient Greeks, it was known as Sousia. Hārūn al-Rashīd died there in 193/809 while leading an army to Khorasan in an effort to quell a rebellion that had broken out there. See ei 2 art. ‘Hārūn al-Ras̲h̲īd’ (F. Omar). 13 Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh. Māsawayh had fallen in love with a slave-girl belonging to the physician Dāwūd ibn Sarābīyūn, a Slav girl named Risālah. Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ purchased her and gave her to Māsawayh, to whom she subsequently bore two sons, Yūḥannā and Mīkhāʾīl. The story is told in the biography of Māsawayh Abū Yūḥannā earlier in Ch. 8.25 . 14 His biography has been given earlier at Ch. 8.3 . 15 The caliph al-Maʾmūn had led an expedition against the Byzantine stronghold of ʿAmmūriyah (Amorium), southwest of Ankara in present-day Turkey, in the year of his death, 218/833. 16 Sergius of Rēsh ʿAynā (d. 536), an important translator of Greek medical texts into Syriac; his biography was given earlier in Ch. 9.24 . Rēsh ʿAynā is the modern Raʾs al-ʿAyn in al-Ḥasakah Governorate, Syria. 17 Marginal note in ms A: ‘Variant reading: those speaking Syriac’. The Arabic title is al-fāʿilāt , ‘factors’, ‘effectors’, vel sim . It appears that the selections ( fuṣūl ) are part of ‘one of Galen’s works on anatomy’, but it is not clear what the reference is. Equivalents of fāʿil (‘effective’, ‘productive’, ‘active’) in Greek (e.g. drastikos, poiētikos ) tend to be used of qualities or faculties rather than, say, of muscles or bones that do things, and so the reference might be to a work like On the Natural Faculties or On the Use of the Parts . 18 Marginal note in ms A: ‘Here ends the second of the parts into which the author’s draft copy is divided.’ 19 On the different versions of the famous dream about Aristotle, see Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture , 95–104. 20 Unidentified. Cf. with different wording, Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:141–142 (English translation in Rosenthal, Classical Heritage , 48–49). 21 Abū Sulaymān Muḥammad ibn Ṭāhir ibn Bahrām al-Sijistānī al-Manṭiqī, the 4th/10th-cent. philosopher. See ei 2 art. ‘Abū Sulaymān Muḥammad b. Ṭāhir b. Bahrām al-Sid̲j̲istānī al-Manṭiḳī’ (S.M. Stern); Kraemer, Philosophy ; Cottrell, ‘Abū Sulaymān’. 22 A 4th/10th-cent. Christian philosopher and theologian, translator and commentator of the works of Aristotle. See ei 2 art. ‘Yaḥyā b. ‘Adī’ (G. Endress). 23 Al-Maʾmūn conducted a series of campaigns against the Byzantine Empire during the period 215–217/830–832. 24 Al-Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf ibn Maṭar (fl. 169–218/786–833) translated into Arabic Euclid’s Elements and Ptolemy’s work known (later) as the Almagest ; next to nothing is known of his life or training. See Biographical Encyclopedia of Astronomers art. ‘Ḥajjāj ibn Yūsuf ibn Maṭar’ (S. Brentjes); ei Three art. ‘Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf b. Maṭar’ (G. de Young & S. Brentjes). 25 A translator of Greek works into Arabic. A brief notice on him will be found in Ch. 9.32 . See also ei 2 art. ‘Yaḥyā (or Yūḥannā) b. al-Biṭrīḳ’ (Fr. Micheau). 26 A library, perhaps even a bureau, under al-Manṣūr, modelled on Sassanian royal administration, to house materials relating to translation from Persian (Pahlavi). It helped to foster the general culture of translation but cannot be connected historically with Greco-Arabic activity; Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture , 53–60; ei Three art. ‘Bayt al-Ḥikma’ (D. Gutas & K. van Bladel). 27 Drawn from Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:143. 28 The Banū Mūsā ibn Shākir were three brothers who were among the most important figures in the intellectual life of Baghdad in the 3rd/9th cent. Amongst other things, they invented a number of automata and mechanical devices. They described a hundred such devices in their Kitāb al-ḥiyal or Book of Ingenious Devices , which was composed in 850 ce . Cf. Encycl. Iranica art. ‘Banū Mūsā’ (D. Pingree) and Hill, Ingenious Devices . 29 Ḥunayn’s nephew and also a gifted translator, rivalling his celebrated uncle. His biography is given at Ch. 8.31 . 30 Another celebrated translator. His biography will be found in Ch. 10.3 . 31 An echo of Ḥunayn’s comments about his hunt for manuscripts of Aristotle’s On Demonstration all over the Middle East: see Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Risālah , 47. 32 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:143–144. A version of this account is also given in Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 31. 33 Ibn al-Nadīm actually calls him Abū Isḥāq ibn Shahrām, which is also how he appears in other sources; see, e.g., al-Tanūkhī, Nishwār , iii:181: ‘Abū Isḥāq ibn Shahrām, known as the son of Ẓalūm, the singer, who was his (Sayf al-Dawlah’s) secretary, and who corresponded with the Byzantine Emperor’; cf. also al-Tanūkhī, Faraj , iii:41–42. Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Zubdah (ed. al-Manṣūr) mentions Abū Isḥāq Muḥammad ibn ‘Abd Allāh ibn Shahrām as the vizier of Saʿd al-Dawlah, and has a longer entry on him in his Bughyat al-ṭalab (ed. Zakkar, 4323–4333). 34 The Sabians of Ḥarrān, in northern Mesopotamia, ‘a community following an old Semitic polytheistic religion, but with a strongly Hellenized elite, one of the last outposts of Late Antique paganism, ei 2 art. ‘Ṣābiʾ (3)’ (F.C. de Blois). 35 Al-Kaldāniyyūn . For Greeks and Romans, Chaldaean signalled Babylonian astrology and magic. Scholars of the Islamic era often took the Chaldaeans as a people connected with the Nabataeans. 36 A physician whose biography we have seen earlier in Ch. 8.6 . The book is often cited by iau and Ibn al-Qifṭī. 37 Al-Mutawakkil (r. 232–247/847–861). 38 Ḥunayn was known as Abū Zayd, so there must have been a Zayd as well. Perhaps he died young, or was undistinguished. 39 The notice on him in Ch. 9.21 reads simply, ‘A mediocre translator.’ 40 His biography will be found in Ch. 10.43 with a short notice on him in Ch. 9.37 reading, ‘A well-known physician, and a reliable translator as well.’ 41 The notice on him in Ch. 9.31 reads, ‘Lived in the time of al-Manṣūr. The caliph ordered him to undertake the task of translating a number of ancient works. He did so, translating numerous books, but as a translator he is not up to the standard of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq. I have seen Arabic versions of many of the medical works of Hippocrates and Galen that are by al-Biṭrīq.’ 42 A biography of Abū ʿUthmān Saʿīd ibn Yaʿqūb al-Dimashqī is given in Ch. 10.16 with a short notice in Ch. 9.36 , where he is said to have been ‘a translator of the first order’ and to have worked exclusively for the well-known Abbasid vizier, ʿAlī ibn ʿĪsā. 43 The Galenic treatises that formed the core of the Alexandrian medical curriculum in late antiquity and spawned the majority of summaries translated from Greek or authored in Arabic. See Ch. 6 above. 44 Sergius of Resh ʿAynā, whose biography is given in Ch. 9.24 . 45 The notice on him in Ch. 9.20 reads, ‘I have found many works translated by this scholar, including Galen’s Sixteen Books and other works, but in terms of skill he fell far short of the standard of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq.’ 46 Ayna l-tharā min al-thurayyā : said proverbially of widely disparate things. 47 Ṣināʿat al-kuḥl . 48 Al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , xvii:538, mentions (in passing) Shihāb al-Dīn ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq ibn ʿAbd al-Salām al-Ṣiqillī (no dates); he is not given an entry himself and is not found in the standard works on grammarians. Brockelman mentions a Mālikī scholar called ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq al-Ṣaqalī (or al-Ṣiqillī) who was active in 459/1067. In Ibn al-Abār’s Takmilah (i:333) he is mentioned as a teacher of the Andalusī grammarian Muḥammad ibn Ḥusayn ibn ʿAbbādah (d. 501/1107). Thus ‘I have been informed’ ( ḥadathanī ) may belong to an unacknowledged 5th/11th cent. source, perhaps again ʿUbayd Allāh. 49 His sole work, known simply as K. Sībawayh , is ‘acknowledged as the founding text of Arabic grammatical science.’ See ei 2 art. ‘Sībawayhi’ (M.G. Carter). 50 Died 175/791 (or possibly 170/786 or 160/776). The founder of Arabic philology and metrics; see ei 2 art. ‘al-K̲h̲alīl b. Aḥmad’ (R. Sellheim). 51 Not possible, in fact, as al-Khalīl had died some years before Ḥunayn was born. The legend links the founder of grammar with the founder of medical translation. 52 Cf. Ibn Juljul, Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ , 68–69. 53 The first dictionary of classical Arabic. Its authorship is not attributable to al-Khalīl exclusively. See ei 2 art. ‘al-K̲h̲alīl b. Aḥmad’ (R. Sellheim). 54 The notice on him in Ch. 9.19 reads: ‘Not far short of the standard of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq himself as far as his ability as a translator goes; however, Ḥunayn’s style is smoother and more graceful.’ 55 See Ch. 9.20 and n. 45 above. 56 The reference is unclear, but perhaps to a work ( maqālah ) on/the translation of Galen’s De libris propriis ; cf. Ch. 5 . 37 no. 1. 57 A source whom we have previously found used by iau in his biography of Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl ( Ch. 8.4 ) and that of ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd ( Ch. 8.14 ). 58 His biography will be found in Ch. 10.2 . He is also the subject of a notice in Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 77 and Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Flügel), 261. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Sarak̲h̲sī’ (F. Rosenthal). The work is apparently unknown. 59 He was al-Mutawakkil’s major-domo, ṣāḥib dār al-Mutawakkil , and died in 252/866 (al-Masʿūdī, Murūj , v:87; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt, i:429). The name Zarāfah means ‘giraffe’. 60 This anecdote shows Ḥunayn having to pose as the composer-singer Ḥunayn ibn Balūʿ, who flourished at al-Ḥīra during the Umayyad era. On him see Abū al-Faraj al-Iṣbahānī, Kitāb al-Aghānī , ii:759–776. 61 R. 256–279/870–892. 62 What we call the Seleucid Era, instituted by Seleucus i Nicator after his reconquest of Babylon in 312/11 and one year later in the western part of his empire. It was the most widely and continuously used of the ‘dynastic’ eras and we find it attested well into the Middle Ages; see Leschhorn, Ären , 22–35. 63 Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist , gives Ḥunayn’s date of death as 260/873, which G. Strohmaier argues is to be preferred to the date given by iau ; see ei Three art. ‘Ḥunayn b. Isḥāq al-ʿIbādī’ (G. Strohmaier). See also Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Neue Materialien , 33. 64 Ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ , 69–70. See also Ibn al-Qifṭī, Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ , 172. Ibn al-Qifṭī adds that Ḥunayn might have killed himself with poison. This question is later raised within the ‘autobiography’ ( Ch. 8.29.15 ) but in a different way (‘I thought of killing myself …’). For an abridged version of this story, also mentioning that Ḥunayn might have killed him self, see Barhebraeus, Mukhtaṣar , 145. On al-Ṭayfūrī here, see also Barhebraeus, Chronicon Ecclesiasticum , iii:197–200. 65 The 4th /10th-cent. Andalusī Umayyad caliph, al-Ḥakam ii , known as al-Mustanṣir bi-Allāh. 66 Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī, of whom we are told, ‘The caliph al-Mutawakkil bi-Allāh had great faith in his judgement and consulted him regularly.’ See his biography in Ch. 8.12 . 67 Aḥmad ibn Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm, better known as Ibn al-Dāyah, died between 330/941 and 340/951. He was the son of iau ’s oft-cited source Yūsuf ibn Ibrāhīm ibn al-Dāyah. See ei 2 art. ‘Ibn al-Dāya’ (F. Rosenthal). The story is not in the extant text of R. fī l-mukāfaʾah . 68 See his biography see Ch. 8.4 . 69 Regarding this date, see n. 63 above. 70 See title no. 99 in the list of works at the end of this biography ( Ch. 8.29.22 ). The work is not usually considered genuine. The extract in iau accounts for one third of this chapter. For a translation of it by Michael Cooperson, see Reynolds, Interpreting the Self , 107–118. For studies, see Cooperson, ‘Purported Autobiography’; Strohmaier, ‘Ḥunain’; Olsson, ‘Reputation’. 71 Neither a gold nor a silver coin. 72 Cf. Galen’s lost Maqālah fī anna akhyār al-nās qadyantafiʿūn bi-aʿdāʾihim (Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 162). 73 Metre: basīṭ . The three anonymous lines, included in AbūTammām’s Ḥamāsah (al-Marzūqī, Sharḥ , 405–407), are often quoted. They are attributed to Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir in al-Washshāʾ, Muwashshā , 6, and to al-Kumayt ibn Maʿrūf in al-Marzubānī, Muʿjam , 238, who adds that he doubts this attribution and subsequently (352) attributes the first two lines to Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn ʿUbayd Allāh al-ʿArzamī. 74 I.e., the enviers but not I (as al-Marzūqī explains). 75 See above Ch. 8.29.5 n. 28 . 76 The events here referred to have not been identified. 77 His biography has been given in Ch. 8.4 . 78 A notorious prison in Baghdad. It was located at the southern fringe of the city, between the Basra Gate and the Kufa Gate. It seems to have consisted of a series of oubliettes, into which, in some cases, prisoners were lowered at the end of a rope and left in inky darkness. See Tillier, ‘Prisons’. 79 Head of the Nestorian Christian Church and the official representative of the Christian community to the Abbasid caliphs. See ei 2 art. ‘Nasṭūriyyūn’ (B. Holmberg), specifically Fiey, Chrétiens syriaques , 90–101. According to Bar Hebraeus, this patriarch was imprisoned by al-Mutawakkil together with Ibn Bukhtīshūʿ. 80 Khiyār shanbar is purging cassia ( Cassia fistula of the family Fabaceae), the fruit of a tall tree native to the Indian subcontinent and adjacent regions of southeast Asia. The pulp of its fruit has laxative properties. See Lev & Amar, Practical Materia Medica , 130–132. 81 Taranjubīn . An exudate from the stems and leaves of camel thorn ( Alhagimaurorum of the Fabaceae family), also with laxative properties. See Lev & Amar, Practical Materia Medica , 445–446. 82 Dozy, Supplément , s.v. ṣfḥ , here quoting from R. Burton, A Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah , 2nd edition, London, 1857: ‘ Muṣāfaḥah is the Arab fashion of shaking hands. They apply the palms of the right hands flat to each other, without squeezing the fingers, and then raise the hand to the forehead.’ 83 Quoted anonymously in al-Thaʿālibī, al-Tamthīl wa-l-muḥāḍarah , 242. Perhaps he took it from a poem by Muḥammad ibn Yasīr (a contemporary of Abū Nuwās); see Ibn Qutaybah, al-Shiʿr wa-l-shuʿarāʾ , 880, where it appears as fa-innamā l-layla nahār al-arīb . The same poem is also ascribed to Yaḥyā ibn Khālid al-Barmakī (al-Masʿūdī, Murūj , iv:234) and to ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ṭāhir (al-ʿAskarī, Jamharat al-amthāl , ii:151–152). 84 For an English translation, see Ghalioungui, Questions on Medicine . 85 Ḥunayn’s nephew and a translator in his own right. His biography is given below in Ch. 8.31 . 86 Abū l-Qāsim ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn ʿAlī, known as Ibn Abī Ṣādiq al-Nīsābūrī, a 5th /11th-cent. Persian physician; a pupil of Ibn Sīnā. Author of numerous works, including a commentary on Ḥunayn’s Book of Questions . A biography of him will be found in Ch. 11.17. 87 Edition and English translation in Meyerhof, Ten Treatises . 88 French translation by Meyerhof & Sbath, Le livre des questions . 89 De simplicium medicamentorum . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , nos. 78–79. 90 A patron of translators. The notice on him in Ch. 9.41 states: ʿAlī ibn Yaḥyā, known as Ibn al-Munajjim. A secretary and companion of the caliph al-Maʾmūn, who held him in high regard. He was interested in medicine and commissioned the translation of numerous works on that subject. 91 For an edition and German translation, see Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Risālah . 92 De libris propriis . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 114. 93 De placitis Hippocratis et Platonis . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 33. 94 De tumoribus praeter naturam . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 57. Here and in what follows iau lists Ḥunayn’s various summaries of Galenic works, not his translations. We refer to the Fichtner number of the Galenic work for convenience. 95 De marcore . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 56. 96 Quod optimus medicus sit quoque philosophus . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 3. 97 De Hippocratis scriptis genuinis . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 244. In the Risālah (no. 104), Ḥunayn states that he prepared a Syriac translation of Galen’s book and then this epitome ( jawāmiʿ ); the Arabic translation of the epitome was made later by his son Isḥāq; Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 697 no. 3. 98 Adhortatio ad artes addiscendas . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 1. 99 De semine . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 22. 100 Hippocratis aphorismi et Galeni in eos commentarii . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 101. 101 The biography of ʿĪsā ibn Ṣaharbukht will be found later in Ch. 8.37 . 102 In Hippocratis prognosticum commentarii iii . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 109. 103 In Hippocratis librum de acutorum victu commentarii iv . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 93. 104 In Hippocratis de capitis vulneribus librum commentarius Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 383. 105 In Hippocratis epidemiarum librum primum commentarii iii . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 96. 106 In Hippocratis librum de officina medici commentarii iii Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 111. 107 In Hippocratis de aere aquis locis librum commentarii . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 382. 108 De aere aquis locis . Fichtner, Corpus Hippocraticum , no. 2. 109 De alimentorum facultatibus . Fichtner, Corpus Hippocraticum , no. 61. 110 I.e. the commentary on the Hippocratic De diaeta salubri , sometimes known as In Hippocratis De natura hominis commentarius tertius (Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 91). 111 Epidemiarum libri ( De morbis popularibus i – vii ). Fichtner, Corpus Hippocraticum , nos. 6, 7, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. 112 De octimestri partu . Fichtner, Corpus Hippocraticum , no. 44. 113 De aere aquis locis – Fichtner Corpus Hippocraticum , no. 2, Galen’s commentary, Corpus Galenicum , no. 101. Mss S and B add: ‘Selections from the Epidemics ’, a doublet of no. 26. 114 See above Ch. 8.29.5 n. 28 . 115 ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī, whose biography was given earlier in Ch. 8.10 , was a physician from a Nestorian Christian family of Persian origin who became personal physician to the Abbasid caliph al-Hādī. 116 Al-Muʿtamid ʿalā llāh, Abbasid caliph (r. 256–279/870–92), son of al-Mutawakkil. 117 See Thomas & Roggema, Christian-Muslim Relations , i:775–779 for editions of this short epistle, the most recent being Samīr Khalil Samir. 118 See n. 109 above. 119 The ‘four books of logic’ probably means the first three books of Aristotle’s Organon ( Categories, On Interpretation, Prior Analytics ) together with Porphyry’s Introduction ( Isagoge ). See e.g. Rescher, Short Commentary, ei 2 art. ‘Furfūriyūs’ (R. Walzer). Gutas suggests that Posterior Analitics might have been the fourth book: Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 688 no. 9. 120 Cf. Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , 127–129, 167, 205, 315, 340, 341, 368, Corpus Hippocraticum 123, 147 for the various pseudonymous works on this topic. 121 This treatise is preserved in three manuscripts, one incomplete and one which can no longer be located. Only one paragraph has been published; see Iskandar, Examinations , 18 n. 2. 122 This treatise is preserved in only two manuscripts, one in Oxford and one in Damascus. For an edition, see Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, Fī ḥifẓ al-asnān (ed. al-Dhākrī). For studies, see Savage-Smith, ncam -1 , entry no. 166, and Celentano, ‘Le petit traité … sur la prophylaxie et la thérapie des dents’. 123 Slave woman who has borne a child to her owner, one whom he has recognized. Under Islamic law, an umm walad becomes free upon her owner’s death. 124 Cf. Galen’s De optimo medico cognoscendo (Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum 232). 125 Steinschneider suggested the emendation K. fī masāʾilihi al-ṭabīʿiyyah , which, as Ullmann has argued, cannot correspond with the Pseudo-Aristotelian Problemata Physica . If this emendation is correct, this might be the work quoted by al-Masʿūdī in Murūj , vii:182–186. See Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 690–691 no. 15. 126 Some fragments might have survived through quotations in al-Ḥasan ibn al-Bahlūl’s K. al-Dalāʾil , see Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 691 no. 17. 127 This work is lost in Arabic but has survived in Latin translation (subsequently translated into Hebrew); for a description of its contents see Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 689–690 no. 14. It is probably the Aristotelian work mentioned in no. 103 below, which is likely to be a doublet (cf. note to no. 99). 128 It has been suggested that this work is identical with the one entitled Tuḥfat al-alibbāʾ wadhakhīrat al-aṭibbāʾ , preserved in a manuscript in Rabat, see Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 693 no. 30. 129 This should be ascribed to Thābit ibn Qurrah, according to Gutas; see ‘Scholars’, 692 no. 22. 130 On this treatise, which survived as ch. 58 of Muʾtamar ibn al-ʿAssāl’s Majmūʿ uṣul al-dīn , see Thomas & Roggema, Christian-Muslim Relations , i:772–774; Samīr, ‘Un traité perdu de Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq’; Samīr, ‘Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq M. fī l-ājāl ’; and Samīr, Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq . 131 De flatibus (Fichtner, Corpus Hippocraticum , no. 27). 132 Rufus of Ephesus, a Greek physician and writer on medical subjects, including melancholy, flourished in the early years of the 2nd cent.; see brief notices on him in Ch. 4.1.10.2 and Ch. 5.1.26 . 133 Liber secretorum ad Monteum . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 409. 134 Personal physician to the Abbasid caliph al-Muʿtaṣim. His biography has been given earlier in Ch. 8.20 . 135 De consuetudinibus . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 202. The epistle is not the translation, but rather a discussion of the Syriac translation of Galen’s De moribus addressed to Salmawayh ibn Bunān; it has survived in the Istanbul ms Ayasofya 3725, ff. 193b–194b. See Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 687 no. 4. 136 Nothing is known about this work. According to Gutas, the very mention of this title ‘would mean that Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿa was drawing upon a list of Ḥunayn’s works that derived from Ḥunayn’s successors’ (‘Scholars’, 695 no. 33). 137 According to Gutas, this attribution is inaccurate. A similar work has been ascribed to Thābit ibn Qurrah, who is the most likely author, see Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 692 no. 19. 138 I.e., the Categories of Aristotle, of which Themistius is said to have composed an epitome. 139 The statesman, rhetorician and Aristotelian philosopher active in the second half of the 4th cent. ce . His philosophical commentaries were well known in Arabic translation. 140 This survives in the epitome of al-Anṣārī, see Badawī, Ādāb . Mohsen Zakeri has questioned the authorship of the text as existing at present (Zakeri, Persian wisdom in Arabic garb ). Cf. Ch. 8.30.6 no. 14 . 141 Paul of Aegina, a 7th cent. ce Greek physician who enjoyed a great reputation in the Islamic world. See Ch. 5 and Ch. 6 . 142 This work corresponds with the epitome of Aristotle’s Meteorology edited in Daiber, Ein Kompendium der Aristotelischen Meteorologie . For a description of its contents and bibliography see Gutas, ‘Scholars’, 692 no. 20. 143 A late Alexandrian physician and author of commentaries on the works of Galen. See Ch. 5 and 6 . 144 De locis affectis . Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 60. 145 The purported autobiography of Ḥunayn from which iau quotes so extensively above. This title marks the end of the list of books in Version 1. The remaining titles are added in Version 2 and Version 3. 146 See n. 90 above (title no. 6 ). 147 Cf. n. 111 above (title no. 26). Bks 1, 2, 3, and also 6 received a commentary by Galen. 148 Cf. above title no. 62. 149 Porphyry’s Isagoge (Introduction) is his introduction to Aristotle’s Organon . Cf. n. 119 above (title no. 37). 150 This is likely to be Ḥunayn’s translation of the Aristotelian work: see Ghersetti, Il Kitāb Arisṭāṭalīs . 151 Cf. Ruska, Das Steinbuch , 45–46, with discussion of Ḥunayn’s authorship. 152 See Hoyland, ‘Theomnestus of Nicopolis, Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, and the beginnings of Islamic veterinary science’. 153 Perhaps a doublet of no. 46. 154 Perhaps a doublet of no. 34. 8.30. Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn 1 [8.30.1] Abū Yaʿqūb Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq al-ʿIbādī 2 rivalled his father in respect of his skill as a translator, his knowledge of languages, and his fluent style. However, he translated only very few medical works, in contrast to his voluminous output of Arabic versions of the works of Aristotle on philosophy and commentaries on them. Isḥāq served the same caliphs and officials as he father had served, including in particular al-Qāsim ibn ʿUbayd Allāh, 3 to whom he was devoted, and who rewarded him with advancement and entrusted him with confidential matters. [8.30.2] Isḥāq possessed a fund of entertaining stories and anecdotes, and he also wrote poetry. The following account is given in his own words: I once had a patient who came to me complaining of pain in the belly. I gave him an electuary. 4 ‘Take it first thing in the morning,’ I said to him, ‘and then come to see me in the evening and tell me how you are feeling.’ That evening, his slave-boy appeared bearing a message from his master. I read it, and found that it read as follows: Dear Sir, I took the medicine, and (as I value you) have had ten bowel movements, some reddish and resembling ropy saliva, and some greenish, the colour of chard, reminiscent of a salad. Afterward, I suffered from colic 5 in my head and vertigo 6 in my navel. Would you very kindly take Nature to task for this in such a way as you may deem appropriate, if God, exalted is He, so wills. After reading this extraordinary missive, I said to myself, ‘Well, there is only one way to answer such a crackpot as this,’ and I wrote back to him, ‘I have received your message. I shall go to see Nature as you ask, and will send you the answer once we have met. Yours faithfully.’ [8.30.3] Toward the end of his life, Isḥāq suffered from paralysis ( al-fālij ), which ultimately proved fatal to him, He died in Baghdad in the month of Rabiʿ ii in the year 298 [December 910], during the reign of al-Muqtadir bi-Allāh. 7 [8.30.4] Isḥāq liked to say, ‘Wine in moderation is a friend to the spirit; wine in excess is an enemy of the body.’ The following is a sample of his poetry: 8 I am the son of those in whom medicine was deposited and who were named for it, as child, mature man and adolescent. 9 Aristotle enlightens me as a brilliant man, rectifying my speech that cannot be gainsaid, And Hippocrates, in abridging what those had established for us of disease and sickness, is a similarly skilled man. 10 And Galen always heals our hearts on account of the natural humours that move in it for us. And Yaḥyā ibn Māsawayh, 11 and Ahrun 12 before him, who 13 wrote books with many benefits to people. He saw(?) that they were acquired about medicine(?), so we did not rest from memorizing them(?). 14 [8.30.5] The following account is taken from a copy of Ibn Buṭlān’s 15 epistle entitled The Physicians’ Dinner-Party , 16 written in his own hand Al-Qāsim ibn ʿUbayd Allāh once learned that Abū Yaʿqūb Isḥāq, who was a friend of his, had treated himself with a laxative. The vizier composed the following teasing verses and sent them to Isḥāq: 17 Let me know how you were last night and how you felt And how often the she-camel took you to the Empty Abode. 18 To which Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn replied, I was fine, happy, and relaxed in body and spirit. As for travelling, the she-camel, and the Empty Quarter, My respect for you made me forget, O goal of my hopes! [8.30.6] Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn is the author of the following works: On medical substances ( K. al-adwiyah al-mufradah ). A small-sized compendium known as The Boot Compendium ( kunnāsh alkhuff ). On the origins of the art of medicine ( ibtidāʾ ṣināʿat al-ṭibb ), in which the names of a number of sages and physicians are mentioned. 19 On readily available medicines ( K. al-adwiyah al-mawjūdah bi-kull makān ). On the administration of purgatives ( K. iṣlāḥ al-adwiyah al-mus′hilah ). A synopsis of Euclid’s Elements 20 ( ikhtiṣār kitāb Uqlīdis ). The categories ( K. al-maqūlāt ). The Isagoge , an introduction to the art of logic ( K. īsāghūjī wa-huwa al-mudkhal ilā ṣināʿat al-manṭiq ). A revision of the Alexandrian summary of Galen’s Explanation of the Aphorisms of Hippocrates 21 ( iṣlāḥ jawāmiʿ al-iskandarāniyyīn li-sharḥ jālīnūs li-kitāb al-fuṣūl li-Buqrāṭ ). On the pulse, a typology ( K. fī l-nabḍ ʿalā jihat al-taqsīm ). On the promotion of health and memory and the prevention of forgetfulness ( M. fī l-ashyā ʾ allatī tufīd al-ṣiḥḥah wa-l-ḥifẓ wa-tamnaʿ min alnisyān ). Isḥāq composed this treatise at the behest of ʿAbd Allāh ibn Shamʿūn. 22 On medical substances ( K. al-adwiyah al-mufradah ). 23 On the art of surgery ( K. ṣanʿat al-ʿilāj bi-l-ḥadīd ). The culture of the philosophers and the stories about them ( K. ādāb al-falāsifah wa-nawādirihim ). 24 On the divine unity ( M. fī l-tawḥīd ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn, see Sezgin, gas iii , 267f.; Ullmann, Medizin , 119; ei 2 art. ‘Isḥāḳ b. Ḥunayn’ (G. Strohmaier); ei Three art. ‘Isḥāq b. Ḥunayn’ (G. Strohmaier). See also a short entry in Ch. 9.3 . This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 iau has explained in the first lines of his biography of Isḥāq’s famous father, Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq ( Ch. 8.29 ), that this nisbah is to be pronounced ʿabādī , but modern scholarship considers ʿibādī to be correct. 3 Vizier to the caliph al-Muktafī (r. 289–295/902–908). 4 Maʿjūn , a medicinal paste made with honey or syrup mixed with other ingredients. 5 Maghs is an alternative form of maghṣ , meaning a pain in the belly; Lane, Lexicon , 2726. 6 Hawas , meaning dizziness or vertigo; Lane, Lexicon , 2907. 7 Reigned as caliph 295–320/908–932. 8 Metre: ṭawīl . The verses have not been found in older sources. 9 The odd sequence is due to the rhyme. 10 Translation uncertain. 11 The metre requires reading this as Māsūyah. Yaḥyā is the Muslim Arabic equivalent of Christian Arabic Yūḥannā. 12 Ahrun ibn Aʿyan ‘the Priest’ (al-Qass), who lived in Alexandria probably in the 6th cent., author of an important medical compendium; see Ullmann, Medizin , 87–89; Sezgin, gas iii , 166–168. 13 The plural suffix of lahum suggests that Māsawayh, the father of Yaḥyā/Yūḥannā, is included. 14 The verse is not wholly clear. For the expression rāḥah wa-aṣābiʿ , ‘rest/hand and fingers’ (jestingly mentioned because of the two meanings of rāḥah ), see a similar verse by Abū Tammām, Dīwān , iv:586. 15 A 5th/11th cent. Christian physician, theologian and prolific author. His biography will be found in Ch. 10.38 . See also ei 2 art. ‘Ibn Buṭlān’ (J. Schacht). 16 For an edition and German translation of Daʿwat al-aṭibbāʾ , see Ibn Buṭlān, Daʿwat al-aṭibbāʾ (ed. Klein-Franke) and (trns. Klein-Franke); for French translations, see Ibn Buṭlān, Daʿwat al-aṭibbāʾ (trns. Dagher & Troupeau) and (trns. Sedky). 17 Metre (of these lines and the reply): hazaj . See Ibn Buṭlān, Daʿwat al-aṭibbāʾ (ed. Klein-Franke), 54; Ibn Khallikān, Wafayāt , i:205; al-Ṣafadī, Wāfī , viii:410; Ibn Faḍl Allāh, Masālik , ix:224; attributed to Jaḥẓah or an unnamed friend of al-Ṣanawbarī in al-Tanūkhī, Nishwār , v:219; al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Tārīkh Baghdād , v:109; see also al-Ṣanawbarī, Dīwān , 324–325. 18 An allusion to the euphemistic use of the word al-khalāʾ (‘emptiness; open space’) for the place where one relieves oneself. 19 This is his Taʾrīkh al-aṭibbāʾ ( History of Physicians ), an important source for iau in Chs 1 – 6 that survives today mainly in the Ṣiwān al-ḥikmah , falsely attributed to Abū Sulaymān al-Sijistānī, and in an epitome. For the edition and translation of the extant fragments, see Rosenthal, ‘Isḥāq b. Ḥunayn’; for a study, see Zimmermann, ‘Chronology’. See also the essay in Volume One of the present publication, I. Sánchez, ‘The Sources Used by Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah’. 20 This work is not extant. Isḥāq was the author of the Arabic translation of Euclid’s Elements , of which this was an abridgement. On his translation of Euclid, see De Young, ‘Isḥaq ibn Ḥunayn’. 21 Cf. Fichtner, Corpus Galenicum , no. 101. 22 Unidentified interlocutor of Isḥāq in his History of Physicians (Rosenthal, ‘Isḥāq b. Ḥunayn’, 61/72, 70/80). 23 Doublet of title no. 1. 24 A work with the same title is usually ascribed to his father, Ḥunayn; see Ch. 8.29.22 no. 87 . 8.31. Ḥubaysh al-Aʿsam 1 Ḥubaysh ibn al-Ḥasan al-Dimashqī was the son of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq’s sister, and studied the art of medicine under his uncle’s tutelage. He followed Ḥunayn’s example in his work as a translator and also in his speech and conduct, but was by no means the equal of his mentor. Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq mentions his nephew in various passages in his works. 2 According to him, the younger man was intelligent and perceptive, but did not fully live up to his potential because he did not make the necessary effort. ‘Keen intelligence or no keen intelligence,’ says Ḥunayn, ‘the fact is, he is rather slack.’ 3 It was Ḥubaysh who completed Ḥunayn’s work titled Questions ( K. al-masāʾil ), 4 which is an introduction to the art of medicine for students. Ḥubaysh is the author of the following works: On the administration of purgatives ( K. iṣlāḥ al-adwiyah al-mus′hilah ). 5 On medicinal substances ( K. al-adwiyah al-mufradah ). 6 On foods ( K. al-aghdhiyah ). On dropsy ( K. fī l-istisqāʾ ). On the pulse, a typology ( M. fī l-nabḍ ʿalā jihat al-taqsīm ). 7 Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Ḥubaysh ibn al-Ḥasan al-Aʿsam al-Dimashqī, see Sezgin, gas iii , 265–266, Ullmann, Medizin 119; ei Three art. ‘Ḥubaysh b. al-Ḥasan al-Dimashqī’ (G. Strohmaier). A short biography is also given in Ch. 9.4 . This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 Reference unclear. 3 In Ch. 9.4 iau says of Ḥubaysh that he was ‘an admirable translator, worthy to be ranked with Ḥunayn and Isḥāq.’ 4 It is the first item in the book-list in the biography of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq ( Ch. 8.29.22 no. 1 ), For an English translation, see Ghalioungui, Questions on Medicine . 5 Cf. the book-list of Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn, Ch. 8.30.6 no. 5 . 6 Cf. the book-list of Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn, Ch. 8.30.6 nos. 1 & 12 . 7 Cf. the book-list of Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn, Ch. 8.30.6 no. 10 . 8.32. Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ 1 [8.32.1] Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ was an eminent physician. He was famous for his mastery of the Greek and Syriac languages, and translated numerous Greek works into Syriac. Yūḥannā served al-Muwaffaq bi-Allāh Ṭalḥah ibn Jaʿfar al-Mutawakkil 2 as his personal physician. Al-Muwaffaq relied on him on many occasions, and addressed him as mufarrij karbī (‘my relief from anxiety’). [8.32.2] The source of the following anecdote is Ibrāhīm ibn al-ʿAbbās ibn Ṭūmār al-Hāshimī: 3 When al-Muwaffaq sat down to drink, a gold platter, a gold washbasin, a crystal jug 4 and a crystal cup would be set before him. Similar ware was set before Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, who would be seated on his right, and before Ghālib, the physician. 5 Platters of ordinary varnished ware, common glass vessels, and bitter oranges, would then be set before the other guests. [8.32.3] Another anecdote related by Ibrāhīm ibn al-ʿAbbās is as follows: I remember once, when Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ had complained to al-Muwaffaq in my hearing about some difficulty he was having in connection with his estates, al-Muwaffaq instructed Ṣāʿid 6 to write a letter addressed to Yūḥannā, clarifying the matter in his favour. Some time later, Yūḥannā again called on al-Muwaffaq. On that occasion, he recalled the great man’s kindness and generosity toward him, and then said that Ṣāʿid had been working to nullify his master’s favourable treatment by sending letters to governors and prefects implying that Yūḥannā’s estates and other properties did not really belong to him. Al-Muwaffaq told him to return to his encampment, saying reassuringly that his own view of the matter had not changed. He then sent for Ṣāʿid. ‘You know perfectly well,’ he said to the vizier, ‘that there is no one in this world whose company I find more congenial, who sees more deeply into my heart, and who relieves my anxiety more reliably, than Yūḥannā. Yet here you are, persistently scheming to make my life miserable by distracting him from his duty to me, God confound you!’ Ṣāʿid protested most earnestly – even unbuckling his sword and baldric – that he had done nothing of the sort, but al-Muwaffaq said to him, ‘I want you to go at once to Yūḥannā’s encampment and take the necessary measures to ensure that his affairs are arranged just as he wants them. Take Rāshid 7 with you. Write it all down in the proper legal form, and have Yūḥannā write out an acknowledgement that the matter has been settled in accordance with his wishes, and then have Rāshid bring the acknowledgement back to me.’ Ibrāhīm’s account continues: Ṣo Ṣāʿid set off with Rāshid, accompanied by several of us, myself included. When our party reached the encampment, we found Yūḥannā seated on Sāmān mats in a pavilion that he had had erected. As we approached, Yūḥannā rose to greet Ṣāʿid, Rāshid and me, and invited us all to be seated. Ṣāʿid then repeated to Yūḥannā the same solemn oath that he had sworn to al-Muwaffaq. ‘That’s all very well,’ replied Yūḥannā, ‘but you say one thing and write another; what use is that to me?’ Ṣāʿid swore his oath yet again and urged most solemnly that he had not acted against Yūḥannā’s interests. Calling for a napkin, which was brought and placed in his lap, he took a pen and sheets of paper, and on them wrote and sketched plans confirming Yūḥannā’s titles, in accordance with the physician’s request. He then had Yūḥannā sign in token of acceptance, asked me and the others to sign as witnesses, and sent Rāshid off to al-Muwaffaq bi-Allāh with the whole packet. The result was that Yūḥannā never had to appeal to al-Muwaffaq’s generosity again in any matter. [8.32.4] Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ is the author of a work entitled Essential Astrology for Physicians ( K. fīmā yaḥtāj ilayhi al-ṭabīb min ʿilm al-nujūm ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, see Sezgin, gas iii , 258; Ullmann, Medizin , 111. This biography is included in Version 2 and Version 3 of the book, but not in Version 1. 2 Al-Muwaffaq bi-Allāh Ṭalḥah ibn Jaʿfar al-Mutawakkil was a son of the caliph al-Mutawakkil (r. 232–247/847–861). He was the regent and virtual ruler of the caliphate during the time of al-Muʿtamid (r. 256–279/870–892). See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muwaffaḳ’ (H. Kennedy). 3 Unidentified. The anecdote describes preparation for washing hands, an integral part of meals; cf. e.g. Nasrallah, Annals , 505–507. 4 Khurdādhī , a type of wine (al-Fīrūzābādī, Qāmūs ), but also used for a type of bottle. For a crystal khurdādhī , see al-Tanūkhī, Nishwār , 1:336, 8:253. See al-Maʿarrī, The Epistle of Forgiveness , glossary. 5 iau has a biography of one Ghālib, ‘the physician of al-Muʿtaḍid,’ in Ch. 10.10 . 6 Ṣāʿid ibn Makhlad, al-Muwaffaq’s vizier. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muwaffaḳ’ (H. Kennedy). 7 Unidentified, but doubtless a member of al-Muwaffaq’s household staff. 8.33. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Yūḥannā 1 Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Yūḥannā was a skilled physician who stood high in the favour of caliphs and other prominent persons. In particular, he served al-Muqtadir bi’llāh 2 as his personal physician; the caliph treated him generously, granting him lucrative estates in fee. Subsequently, Bukhtīshūʿ served the caliph al-Rāḍī bi-Allāh, 3 under whom he enjoyed respect and prosperity quite equal to what he had known in the days of al-Rāḍī’s father, al-Muqtadir. Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Yūḥannā died in Baghdad on Wednesday, 27 Dhū l-Ḥijjah 329 [22 September 941]. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic references to Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Yūḥannā, see Ullmann, Medizin , 111. This biography is included in Version 2 and Version 3 of the book, but not in Version 1. 2 R. 295–320/908–932. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Muḳtadir’ (K.V. Zetterstéen & C.E. Bosworth). 3 R. 322–329/934–940. See ei 2 art. ‘al-Rāḍī’ (K.V. Zetterstéen). 8.34. ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī 1 ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī was a distinguished physician, but he also took an interest in philosophy; he is the author of various works on that subject. He was one of the most promising students of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, under whose tutelage he learned the art of medicine. ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī served Aḥmad, the son of the caliph al-Mutawakkil, 2 as his personal physician. When at length Aḥmad became caliph as al-Muʿtamid ʿalā llāh, 3 he treated his old physician most generously, showing him great honour, giving him fine mounts on a number of occasions, and bestowing robes of honour upon him. ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī is the author of the following works: On the benefits obtainable from the various parts of animals ( K. al-manāfiʿ allatī tustafād min aʿḍāʾ al-ḥayawān ) 4 On poisons, in two parts ( K. al-sumūm, maqālatān ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic information about ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī, see Sezgin, gas iii , 259; Ullmann, Medizin , 327, and Raggetti, ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī’s Book . xi-xiii . This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 R. 232–247/847–861. 3 R. 256–279/870–892. 4 For an edition, translation and study, see Raggetti, ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī’s Book . 8.35. ʿĪsā ibn Yaḥyā ibn Ibrāhīm 1 This physician was another of the pupils of Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq, who taught him the art of medicine. Footnotes 1 For bibliographical information about ʿĪsā ibn Yaḥyā ibn Ibrāhīm, see Sezgin, gas iii , 257, Ullmann, Medizin , 30, 57. This biography is not included in Version 1 of the book, but is found in Versions 2 and 3. 8.36. al-Ḥallājī 1 Al-Ḥallājī, commonly known by the name Yaḥyā ibn Abī Ḥakīm, was one of the personal physicians of the caliph al-Muʿtaḍid. 2 Al-Ḥallājī is the author of a work entitled Regimen for Slim Bodies That are Ill from Yellow Bile ( K. tadbīr al-abdān al-naḥīfah allatī qad ʿallat′hā al-ṣafrāʾ ), which he composed for al-Muʿtaḍid. Footnotes 1 For bibliographical information about al-Ḥallājī and his works, see Sezgin, gas iii , 263. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:302, is iau ’s source for biographies in Ch. 8.36 to Ch. 8.38 . 2 R. 279–289/892–902. 8.37. Ibn Ṣahār Bukht 1 Ibn Ṣahār Bukht, whose given name was ʿĪsā, was a native of Gondēshāpūr. ʿĪsā ibn Ṣahār Bukht is the author of a work on the effectiveness of medicinal substances ( K. quwā al-adwiyah al-mufradah ). Footnotes 1 For bibliographic information about Ibn Ṣahār Bukht and his works, see Sezgin, gas iii , 243, Ullmann, Medizin , 264, 273. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:302, is iau ’s source for biographies in Ch. 8.36 to Ch. 8.38 . 8.38. Ibn Māhān 1 Ibn Māhān was known as Yaʿqūb al-Sīrāfī. He is the author of a work entitled The Book of Medicine for Travelling and Residing ( K. al-safar wa-l-ḥaḍar fī l-ṭibb ). Footnotes 1 There are no bibliographic references for Ibn Māhān or his works. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. Ibn al-Nadīm, Fihrist (Sayyid) 2/1:302, is iau ’s source for biographies in Ch. 8.36 to Ch. 8.38 . 8.39. al-Sāhir 1 This physician’s given name was Yūsuf, and he was commonly known as Yūsuf the Priest. He was also knowledgeable about the art of medicine and was an eminent physician in the time of the caliph al-Muktafī. 2 According to ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl, 3 Yūsuf suffered from a cancer ( saraṭān ) on his forehead which made it impossible for him to sleep, and it was for that reason that he was dubbed al-Sāhir (‘the insomniac’). ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl’s account continues, ‘Al-Sāhir is the author of a Compendium in which he discusses remedies for a number of disorders, and in it there are indications that he was indeed afflicted with that disease.’ The celebrated Compendium ( Kunnāsh ) by which al-Sāhir is best known and which bears his name is his masterpiece. In it, he sets forth the inferences and the results of practical experience that he had collected throughout his life. The work is divided into two parts. The first of these is organized on a plan that reflects the arrangement of the parts of the body, from head to feet; it consists of twenty chapters. The second part, which contains six chapters, does not reflect this arrangement. Footnotes 1 For bibliographic information about al-Sāhir and his works, see Sezgin, gas iii , 268–269, Ullmann, Medizin , 124. This biography is included in all three versions of the book. 2 R. 289–295/902–908. 3 ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl was one of the celebrated Bukhtīshūʿ family of physicians; his biography was given in Ch. 8.6 . The extract will be from his The Merits of Physicians ( Ch. 8.6 . title no. 2 ). Copyright 2020 by the Editors. Published by Koninklijke Brill nv , Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi, Brill Sense, Hotei Publishing, mentis Verlag, Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh and Wilhelm Fink Verlag. Koninklijke Brill nv reserves the right to protect the publication against unauthorized use. This is an open access title distributed under the terms of the cc-by-nc 4.0 License, which permits any non-commercial use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author(s) and source are credited. Monographs, or book chapters, which are outputs of Wellcome Trust funding have been made freely available as part of the Wellcome Trust's open access policy Bookshelf ID: NBK621346 DOI: 10.1163/9789004410312_047 Contents < Prev Next > Share Views PubReader Print View Cite this Page Inksetter B, Savage-Smith E, van Gelder GJ. Syriac Physicians of the Early Abbasid Period. In: Sánchez I, Joosse NP, Watson Aet al., authors; Savage-Smith E, Swain S, van Gelder GJ, editors. A Literary History of Medicine: The ʿUyūn al-anbāʾ fī ṭabaqāt al-aṭibbāʾ of Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʿah [Internet]. Leiden (NL): Brill; 2019. CHAPTER 8. doi: 10.1163/9789004410312_047 PDF version of this title (5.8M) In this Page Jūrjis ibn Jibrīl Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jūrjis Jibrīl ibn Bukhtīshūʿ Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Jibrīl Jibrīl ibn ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Jibrīl Khaṣīb ʿĪsā, known as Abū Quraysh Ibn al-Lajlāj ʿAbd Allāh al-Ṭayfūrī Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī Isrāʾīl ibn Zakariyyā ibn al-Ṭayfūrī Yazīd ibn Yūḥannā ibn Abī Khālid ʿAbdūs ibn Zayd Sahl al-Kawsaj Sābūr ibn Sahl Isrāʾīl ibn Sahl Mūsā ibn Isrāʾīl al-Kūfī Māsarjawayh Salmawayh ibn Bunān Ibrāhīm ibn Fazārūn Ayyūb ‘al-Abrash’ Ibrāhīm ibn Ayyūb al-Abrash Jibrīl ‘the oculist of al-Maʾmūn’ Māsawayh Abū Yūḥannā Yūḥannā ibn Māsawayh Mīkhāʾīl ibn Māsawayh ʿĪsā ibn Māssah Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq Isḥāq ibn Ḥunayn Ḥubaysh al-Aʿsam Yūḥannā ibn Bukhtīshūʿ Bukhtīshūʿ ibn Yūḥannā ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī ʿĪsā ibn Yaḥyā ibn Ibrāhīm al-Ḥallājī Ibn Ṣahār Bukht Ibn Māhān al-Sāhir Other titles in this collection Wellcome Trust–Funded Monographs and Book Chapters Recent Activity Clear Turn Off Turn On Syriac Physicians of the Early Abbasid Period - A Literary History of Medicine Syriac Physicians of the Early Abbasid Period - A Literary History of Medicine Your browsing activity is empty. 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