and he was distraught at his loss.
It is said that his embrace of Islam was commendable, even though he later inclined toward rafḍ (Shiʿite rejectionism). He studied the Quran and Arabic grammar, scholars attended his gatherings, and on the eve of Friday his own compositions would be read aloud to him. His passion for every branch of knowledge was extraordinary.
Several poets lauded him, and he himself was a generous, praiseworthy man.
He compiled a book on Shiʿite jurisprudence based on what he had heard from al-Muʿizz and al-ʿAzīz. A large audience later listened to it from his own lips in a public session, and a group of scholars sat in the congregational mosque of Egypt issuing fatwas according to that reprehensible compilation.
In 373 AH al-ʿAzīz became enraged with him, imprisoned him for several months, then relented, found himself in need of him, and restored him to office.
His annual stipend amounted to two hundred thousand dinars.
At his death he was found to possess four thousand mamluks—some of them emirs—together with soldiers and servants.
It is said that his shrouding and embalming cost the equivalent of ten thousand mithqals of gold (1).
Al-ʿAzīz, weeping, exclaimed, “Ah, how long my grief for you, O vizier!” (2).
He died in Dhū al-Qaʿdah of 380 AH at the age of sixty-two, leaving behind in gold, jewels, and goods a fortune beyond description. There is no doubt that the ruler of Egypt in that era was far greater than the Abbasid caliphs, just as the present lord of Egypt surpasses all the petty kings of our time in rank and dominion.