{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8656/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8656","id":"gutenberg_8656","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8656","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"Produced by JC Byers and Cameron Fruit\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEditorial Note: Project Gutenberg also has the translation of this work by\n                Richard F. Burton in 16 volumes.\n\n\n\n\n         THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT:\n\n             Now First Completely Done Into English\n           Prose and Verse, From The Original Arabic,\n\n                         By John Payne\n(Author of \"The Masque of Shadows,\" \"Intaglios: Sonnets,\" \"Songs\n                      of Life and Death,\"\n \"Lautrec,\" \"The Poems of Master Francis Villon of Paris,\" \"New\n                      Poems,\" Etc, Etc.).\n\n                        In Nine Volumes:\n\n\n\n                       VOLUME THE SECOND.\n\n\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The Second Volume.\n\n9.   The History of King Omar Ben Ennuman and His Sons Sherkan\n     and Zoulmekan\n     a.   Story of Taj El Mulouk and the Princess Dunya\n          aa.  Story of Aziz and Azizeh\n     b.   Bakoun's Story of the Hashish-Eater\n     c.   Hemmand the Bedouin's Story\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS\n                         AND ONE NIGHT\n\n\n\n            THE HISTORY OF KING OMAR BEN ENNUMAN AND\n                HIS SONS SHERKAN AND ZOULMEKAN.\n\n\n\nThere reigned once in the City of Peace, (Baghdad), before the\nKhalifate of Abdulmelik ben Merwan,[FN#1] a king called Omar ben\nEnnuman, who was of the mighty giants and had subdued the kings\nof Persia and the Emperors of the East, for none could warm\nhimself at his fire[FN#2] nor cope with him in battle, and when\nhe was angry, there came sparks out of his nostrils. He had\ngotten him the dominion over all countries, and God had subjected\nunto him all creatures; his commands were obeyed in all the great\ncities and his armies penetrated the most distant lands: the East\nand West came under his rule, with the regions between them, Hind\nand Sind and China and Hejaz and Yemen and the islands of India\nand China, Syria and Mesopotamia and the land of the blacks and\nthe islands of the ocean and all the famous rivers of the earth,\nJaxartes and Bactrus, Nile and Euphrates. He sent his ambassadors\nto the farthest parts of the earth, to fetch him true report, and\nthey returned with tidings of justice and peace, bringing him\nassurance of loyalty and obedience and invocations of blessings\non his head; for he was a right noble king and there came to him\ngifts and tribute from all parts of the world. He had a son\ncalled Sherkan, who was one of the prodigies of the age and the\nlikest of all men to his father, who loved him with an exceeding\nlove and had appointed him to be king after him. The prince grew\nup till he reached man's estate and was twenty years old, and God\nsubjected all men to him, for he was gifted with great might and\nprowess in battle, humbling the champions and destroying all who\nmade head against him. So, before long, this Sherkan became\nfamous in all quarters of the world and his father rejoiced in\nhim: and his might waxed, till he passed all bounds and magnified\nhimself, taking by storm the citadels and strong places.\n\nNow King Omar had four lawful wives, but God had vouchsafed him\nno son by them, except Sherkan, whom he had gotten of one of\nthem, and the rest were barren. Moreover he had three hundred and\nthreescore concubines, after the number of the days of the Coptic\nyear, who were of all nations, and he had lodged them all within\nhis palace. For he had built twelve pavilions, after the number\nof the months of the year, in each thirty chambers, and appointed\nto each of his concubines a night, which he lay with her and came\nnot to her again for a full year. As providence would have it,\none of them conceived and her pregnancy was made known, whereupon\nthe King rejoiced with an exceeding joy, saying, \"Mayhap it will\nbe a son, in which case all my offspring will be males.\" Then he\nrecorded the date of her conception and made much of her. But\nwhen the news came to Sherkan, he was troubled and it was\ngrievous to him, for he said, \"Verily, there cometh one who shall\ndispute the kingdom with me.\" So he said to himself, \"If this\ndamsel bear a male child, I will kill it.\" But he kept this his\nintent secret in his heart. Now the damsel in question was a\nGreek girl, by name Sufiyeh,[FN#3] whom the King of Roum,[FN#4]\nlord of Caesarea, had sent to King Omar as a present, together\nwith great store of rarities. She was the fairest of face and\nmost graceful of all his women and the most careful of his honour\nand was gifted with abounding wit and surpassing loveliness. She\nhad served the King on the night of his lying with her, saying to\nhim, \"O King, I desire of the God of the heavens that He grant\nthee of me a male child, so I may rear him well and do my utmost\nendeavour to educate him and preserve him from harm.\" And her\nwords pleased the King. She passed the time of her pregnancy in\ndevout exercises, praying fervently to God to grant her a goodly\nmale child and make his birth easy to her, till her months were\naccomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. Now the\nKing had given an eunuch charge to let him know if the child she\nshould bring forth were male or female; and in like manner his\nson Sherkan had sent one to bring him news of this. In due time,\nSufiyeh was delivered of a child, which the midwives took and\nfound to be a girl with a face more radiant than the moon. So\nthey announced this to the bystanders, whereupon the eunuch\ncarried the news to the King and Sherkan's messenger did the like\nwith his master, who rejoiced with exceeding joy; but after these\ntwo had departed, Sufiyeh said to the midwives, \"Wait with me\nawhile, for I feel there is yet somewhat in my entrails.\" Then\nshe moaned and the pains of labour took her again but God made it\neasy to her and she gave birth to a second child. The midwives\nlooked at it and found it a boy like the full moon, with\nflower-white forehead and rose-red cheeks; whereupon the damsel\nand her eunuchs and attendants rejoiced and she was delivered of\nthe afterbirth, whilst all who were in the palace set up cries of\njoy. The other damsels heard of this and envied her; and the news\ncame to Omar, who was glad and rejoiced. Then he rose and went to\nher and kissed her head, after which he looked at the boy and\nbending down to it, kissed it, whilst the damsels smote the\ntabrets and played on instruments of music; and he commanded that\nthe boy should be named Zoulmekan and the girl Nuzbet ez Zeman,\nwhich was done accordingly. Then he appointed nurses, wet and\ndry, and eunuchs and attendants to serve them and assigned them\nrations of sugar and liquors and oil and other necessaries, such\nas the tongue fails to set out. Moreover the people of Baghdad\nheard of the children that God had vouchsafed to the King; so\nthey decorated the city and made proclamation of the good news.\nThen came the amirs and viziers and grandees and wished the King\njoy of his son and daughter, wherefore he thanked them and\nbestowed dresses of honour and favours and largesse on them and\non all who were present, gentle and simple. Then he bade carry\ngreat store of jewellery and apparel and money to Sufiyeh and\ncharged her to rear the children carefully and educate them well.\nAfter this wise, four years passed by, during which time the King\nsent every few days to seek news of Sufiyeh and her children; but\nall this while, his son Sherkan knew not that a male child had\nbeen born to his father, having news only of the birth of his\ndaughter Nuzhet ez Zeman, and they hid the thing from him, until\nyears and days had passed by, whilst he was busied in contending\nwith the men of war and tilting against the cavaliers.\n\nOne day, as the King was sitting on his throne, there came in to\nhim his chamberlains, who kissed the earth before him and said,\n\"O King, there be come ambassadors from the King of the Greeks,\nlord of Constantinople the mighty, and they desire to be admitted\nto pay their respects to thee: so if the King give them leave to\nenter, we will admit them, and if not, there is no appeal from\nhis decree.\" He bade admit them, and when they entered, he turned\nto them and asked them how they did and the reason of their\ncoming. They kissed the earth before him and replied, \"O\nillustrious King and lord of the long arm,[FN#5] know that King\nAfridoun, lord of the lands of the Greeks and of the Nazarene\narmies, holding the empire of Constantinople, hath sent us to\nmake known to thee that he is now waging grievous war with a\nfierce rebel, the lord of Caesarea; and the cause of this war is\nas follows. One of the kings of the Arabs, awhile since, chanced,\nin one of his conquests, upon a treasure of the time of\nAlexander, from which he carried away countless riches and\namongst other things, three round jewels, of the bigness of an\nostrich's egg, from a mine of pure white jewels, never was seen\nthe like. Upon each of these jewels were graven talismans in the\nGreek character, and they had many properties and virtues,\namongst the rest that if one of them were hung round the neck of\na new-born child, no ailment would hurt him nor would he moan or\nbe fevered, so long as it was about his neck. When they came to\nthe hands of the Arabian King and he knew their virtues, he sent\nthe three jewels, together with other presents and rarities, as a\ngift to King Afridoun, and to that end fitted out two ships, one\nbearing the treasure and presents and the other men to guard them\nagainst whoso should offer them hindrance on the sea, being\nnevertheless assured that none would dare waylay them, for that\nhe was King of the Arabs, more by token that their way lay\nthrough the sea in the dominions of the King of Constantinople\nand they were bound to him, nor were there on the shores of that\nsea any but subjects of the most mighty King Afridoun. The ships\nset out and sailed till they drew near our city, when there\nsallied out on them certain corsairs of the country and amongst\nthem troops of the King of Caesarea, who took all the treasures\nand rarities in the ships, together with the three jewels, and\nslew the men. When the news came to our King, he sent an army\nagainst them, but they defeated it; then he sent another army,\nstronger than the first, but they put this also to the rout;\nwhereupon the King was wroth and swore that he would go out\nagainst them in person at the head of his whole army and not turn\nback from them, till he had left Caesarea in ruins and laid waste\nall the lands and cities over which its King held sway. So he\ncraves of the lord of the age and the time, the King of Baghdad\nand Khorassan, that he succour us with an army, to the end that\nglory may redound to him; and he has sent by us somewhat of\nvarious kinds of presents and begs the King to favour him by\naccepting them and accord us his aid.\" Then they kissed the earth\nbefore King Omar and brought out the presents, which were fifty\nslave-girls of the choicest of the land of the Greeks, and fifty\nwhite male slaves in tunics of brocade, rich girdles of gold and\nsilver and in their ears pendants of gold and fine pearls, worth\na thousand dinars each. The damsels were adorned after the same\nfashion and clad in stuffs worth much money. When the King saw\nthem, he rejoiced in them and accepted them. Then he commanded\nthat the ambassadors should be honourably entreated and summoning\nhis viziers, took counsel with them of what he should do.\nAccordingly, one of them, an old man named Dendan, arose and\nkissing the earth before King Omar, said, \"O King, thou wouldst\ndo well to equip numerous army and set over it thy son Sherkan,\nwith us as his lieutenants; and to my mind it behoves thee to do\nthus, for two reasons: first, that the King of the Greeks hath\nappealed to thee for aid and hath sent thee presents, and thou\nhast accepted them; and secondly, that no enemy dares attack our\ncountry, and that if thy host succour the King of the Greeks and\nhis foe be put to the rout, the glory will fall to thee and the\nnews of it will be noised abroad in all cities and countries; and\nespecially, when the tidings reach the islands of the ocean and\nthe people of Western Africa, they will send thee presents and\ntribute.\" When the King heard the Vizier's speech, it pleased him\nand he approved his counsel: so he bestowed on him dress of\nhonour and said to him, \"It is with such as thee that kings take\ncounsel and it befits that thou command the van of the army and\nmy son Sherkan the main battle.\" Then he sent for Sherkan and\nexpounded the matter to him, telling him what the ambassadors and\nthe Vizier had said, and enjoined him to take arms and prepare to\nset out, charging him not to cross the Vizier Dendan in aught\nthat he should do. Then he bade him choose from among his troops\nten thousand horsemen armed cap-a-pie and inured to war and\nhardship. Accordingly, Sherkan rose at once and chose out ten\nthousand horsemen, in obedience to his father's commandment,\nafter which he entered his palace and mustered his troops and\ndistributed money to them, saying, \"Ye have three days to make\nready.\" They kissed the earth before him and proceeded at once to\nmake their preparations for the campaign; whilst Sherkan repaired\nto the armouries and provided himself with all the arms and\narmour that he needed, and thence to the stables, whence he took\nhorses of choice breeds and others. When the three days were\nended, the troops marched out of Baghdad, and King Omar came\nforth to take leave of his son, who kissed the earth before him,\nand he gave him seven thousand purses.[FN#6] Then he turned to\nthe Vizier Dendan and commended to his care his son Sherkan's\narmy and charged the latter to consult the Vizier in all things,\nto which they both promised obedience. After this, the King\nreturned to Baghdad and Sherkan commanded the officers to draw\nout the troops in battle array. So they mustered them and the\nnumber of the army was ten thousand horsemen, besides footmen and\nfollowers. Then they loaded the beasts and beat the drums and\nblew the clarions and unfurled the banners and the standards,\nwhilst Sherkan mounted, with the Vizier Dendan by his side and\nthe standards waving over them, and the army set out and fared\non, with the ambassadors in the van, till the day departed and\nthe night came, when they halted and encamped for the night. On\nthe morrow, as soon as God brought in the day, they took horse\nand continued their march, nor did they cease to press onward,\nguided by the ambassadors, for the space of twenty days. On the\ntwenty-first day, at nightfall, they came to a wide and fertile\nvalley, whose sides were thickly wooded and covered with grass,\nand there Sherkan called a three days' halt. So they dismounted\nand pitched their tents, dispersing right and left in the valley,\nwhilst the Vizier Dendan and the ambassadors alighted in the\nmidst. As for Sherkan, when he had seen the tents pitched and the\ntroops dispersed on either side and had commanded his officers\nand attendants to camp beside the Vizier Dendan, he gave reins to\nhis horse, being minded to explore the valley and himself mount\nguard over the army, having regard to his father's injunctions\nand to the fact that they had reached the frontier of the land of\nRoum and were now in the enemy's country. So he rode on alone\nalong the valley, till a fourth part of the night was passed,\nwhen he grew weary and sleep overcame him, so that he could no\nlonger spur his horse. Now he was used to sleep on horseback; so\nwhen drowsiness got the better of him, he fell asleep and the\nhorse paced on with him half the night and entered a forest; but\nSherkan awoke not, till the steed smote the earth with his hoof.\nThen he started from sleep and found himself among trees; and the\nmoon arose and lighted up the two horizons. He was troubled at\nfinding himself alone in this place and spoke the words, which\nwhoso says shall never be confounded, that is to say, \"There is\nno power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!\"\nBut as he rode on, in fear of the wild beasts, behold, the trees\nthinned and the moon shone out upon a meadow as it were one of\nthe meads of Paradise and he heard therein a noise of talk and\npleasant laughter such as ravishes the wit of men. So King\nSherkan dismounted and tying his horse to a tree, fared on a\nlittle way, till he espied a stream of running water and heard a\nwoman talking and saying in Arabic, \"By the virtue of the\nMessiah, this is not handsome of you! But whoso speaks a word, I\nwill throw her down and bind her with her girdle.\" He followed in\nthe direction of the voice and saw gazelles frisking and wild\ncattle pasturing and birds in their various voices expressing joy\nand gladness: and the earth was embroidered with all manner of\nflowers and green herbs, even as says of it the poet in the\nfollowing verses:\n\nEarth has no fairer sight to show than this its blossom-time,\n     With all the gently running streams that wander o'er its\n     face.\nIt is indeed the handiwork of God Omnipotent, The Lord of every\n     noble gift and Giver of all grace!\n\nMidmost the meadow stood a monastery, and within the enclosure\nwas a citadel that rose high into the air in the light of the\nmoon. The stream passed through the midst of the monastery and\ntherenigh sat ten damsels like moons, high-bosomed maids, clad in\ndresses and ornaments that dazzled the eyes, as says of them the\npoet:\n\nThe meadow glitters with the troops Of lovely ones that wander\n     there.\nIts grace and beauty doubled are By these that are so passing\n     fair.\nVirgins that, with their swimming gait, The hearts of all that\n     see ensnare;\nAlong whose necks, like trails of grapes, Stream down the tresses\n     of their hair:\nProudly they walk, with eyes that dart The shafts and arrows of\n     despair,\nAnd all the champions of the world Are slain by their seductive\n     air.\n\nSherkan looked at the ten girls and saw in their midst a lady\nlike the moon at its full, with ringleted hair and shining\nforehead, great black eyes and curling brow-locks, perfect in\nperson and attributes, as says the poet:\n\nHer beauty beamed on me with glances wonder-bright: The slender\n     Syrian spears are not so straight and slight:\nShe laid her veil aside, and lo, her cheeks rose-red! All manner\n     lovelyness was in their sweetest sight.\nThe locks, that o'er her brow fell down, were like the night,\n     From out of which there shines a morning of delight.\n\nThen Sherkan heard her say to the girls, \"Come on, that I may\nwrestle with you, ere the moon set and the dawn come.\" So they\ncame up to her, one after another, and she overthrew them, one by\none, and bound their hands behind them with their girdles. When\nshe had thrown them all, there turned to her an old woman, who\nwas before her, and said, as if she were wroth with her, \"O\nwanton, dost thou glory in overthrowing these girls? Behold, I am\nan old woman, yet have I thrown them forty times! So what hast\nthou to boast of? But if thou have strength to wrestle with me,\nstand up that I may grip thee and put thy head between thy feet.\"\nThe young lady smiled at her words, although her heart was full\nof anger against her, and said, \"O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, wilt\nindeed wrestle with me, or dost thou jest with me?\" \"I  mean to\nwrestle with thee in very deed,\" replied she. \"Stand up to me\nthen,\" said the damsel, \"if thou have strength to do so.\" When\nthe old woman heard this, she was sore enraged and the hair of\nher body stood on end, like that of a hedge-hog. Then she sprang\nup, whilst the damsel confronted her, and said, \"By the virtue of\nthe Messiah, I will not wrestle with thee, except I be naked.\" \"O\nbaggage!\" So she loosed her trousers and putting her hand under\nher clothes, tore them off her body; then, taking a handkerchief\nof silk, she bound it about her middle and became as she were a\nbald Afriteh or a pied snake. Then she turned to the young lady\nand said to her, \"Do as I have done.\" All this time, Sherkan was\nwatching them and laughing at the loathly favour of the old\nwoman. So the damsel took a sash of Yemen stuff and doubled it\nabout her waist, then tucked up her trousers and showed legs of\nalabaster and above them a hummock of crystal, soft and swelling,\nand a belly that exhaled musk from its dimples, as it were a bed\nof blood-red anemones, and breasts like double pomegranates. Then\nthe old woman bent to her and they took hold of one another,\nwhilst Sherkan raised his eyes to heaven and prayed to God that\nthe damsel might conquer the old hag. Presently, the former bored\nin under the latter, and gripping her by the breech with the left\nhand and by the gullet with the right, hoisted her off the\nground; whereupon the old woman strove to free herself and in the\nstruggle wriggled out of the girl's hands and fell on her back.\nUp went her legs and showed her hairy tout in the moonlight, and\nshe let fly two great cracks of wind, one of which smote the\nearth, whilst the other smoked up to the skies. At this Sherkan\nlaughed, till he fell to the ground, and said, \"He lied not who\ndubbed thee Lady of Calamities![FN#7] Verily, thou sawest her\nprowess against the others.\" Then he arose and looked right and\nleft, but saw none save the old woman thrown down on her back. So\nhe drew near to hear what should pass between them; and behold,\nthe young lady came up to the old one and throwing over her a\nveil of fine silk, helped her to dress herself, making excuses to\nher and saying, \"O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, I did not mean to\nthrow thee so roughly, but thou wriggledst out of my hands; so\npraised be God for safety!\" She returned her no answer, but rose\nin her confusion and walked away out of sight, leaving the young\nlady standing alone, by the other girls thrown down and bound.\nThen said Sherkan to himself, \"To every fortune there is a cause.\nSleep fell not on me nor did the steed bear me hither but for my\ngood fortune; for of a surety this damsel and what is with her\nshall be my prize.\" So he turned back and mounted and drew his\nscimitar; then he gave his horse the spur and he started off with\nhim, like an arrow from a bow, whilst he brandished his naked\nblade and cried out, \"God is Most Great!\" When the damsel saw\nhim, she sprang to her feet and running to the bank of the river,\nwhich was there six cubits wide, made a spring and landed on the\nother side, where she turned and standing, cried out in a loud\nvoice, \"Who art thou, sirrah, that breakest in on our pastime,\nand that with thy whinger bared, as thou wert charging an army?\nWhence comest thou and whither art thou bound? Speak the truth,\nand it shall profit thee, and do not lie, for lying is of the\nloser's fashion. Doubtless thou hast strayed this night from thy\nroad, that thou hast happened on this place. So tell me what thou\nseekest: if thou wouldst have us set thee in the right road, we\nwill do so, or if thou seek help, we will help thee.\" When\nSherkan heard her words, he replied, \"I am a stranger of the\nMuslims, who am come out by myself in quest of booty, and I have\nfound no fairer purchase this moonlit night than these ten\ndamsels; so I will take them and rejoin my comrades with them.\"\nQuoth she, \"I would have thee to know that thou hast not yet come\nat the booty: and as for these ten damsels, by Allah, they are no\npurchase for thee! Indeed, the fairest purchase thou canst look\nfor is to win free of this place; for thou art now in a mead,\nwhere, if we gave one cry, there would be with us anon four\nthousand knights. Did I not tell thee that lying is shameful?\"\nAnd he said, \"The fortunate man is he to whom God sufficeth and\nwho hath no need of other than Him.\" \"By the virtue of the\nMessiah,\" replied she, \"did I not fear to have thy death at my\nhand, I would give a cry that would fill the meadow on thee with\nhorse and foot; but I have pity on the stranger: so if thou seek\nbooty, I require of thee that thou dismount from thy horse and\nswear to me, by thy faith, that thou wilt not approach me with\naught of arms, and we will wrestle, I and thou. If thou throw me,\nlay me on thy horse and take all of us to thy booty; and if I\nthrow thee, thou shalt be at my commandment. Swear this to me,\nfor I fear thy perfidy, since experience has it that, as long as\nperfidy is in men's natures, to trust in every one is weakness.\nBut if thou wilt swear, I will come over to thee.\" Quoth Sherkan\n(and indeed he lusted after her and said to himself, \"She does\nnot know that I am a champion of the champions.\"), \"Impose on me\nwhatever oath thou deemest binding, and I will swear not to draw\nnear thee till thou hast made thy preparations and sayest, 'Come\nand wrestle with me.' If thou throw me, I have wealth wherewith\nto ransom myself, and if I throw thee, I shall get fine\npurchase.\" Then said she, \"Swear to me by Him who hath lodged the\nsoul in the body and given laws to mankind, that thou wilt not\nbeset me with aught of violence, but by way of wrestling; else\nmayst thou die out of the pale of Islam.\" \"By Allah,\" exclaimed\nSherkan, \"if a Cadi should swear me, though he were Cadi of the\nCadis, he would not impose on me the like of this oath!\" Then he\ntook the oath she required and tied his horse to a tree, sunken\nin the sea of reverie and saying in himself, \"Glory to Him who\nfashioned her of vile water!\"[FN#8] Then he girt himself and made\nready for wrestling and said to her, \"Cross the stream to me.\"\nQuoth she, \"It is not for me to come to thee: if thou wilt, do\nthou cross over to me.\" \"I cannot do that,\" replied he, and she\nsaid, \"O boy, I will come to thee.\" So she gathered her skirts\nand making a spring, landed on the other side of the river by\nhim; whereupon he drew near to her, wondering at her beauty and\ngrace, and saw a form that the hand of Omnipotence had tanned\nwith the leaves of the Jinn and which had been fostered by Divine\nsolicitude, a form on which the zephyrs of fair fortune had blown\nand over whose creation favourable planets had presided. Then she\ncalled out to him, saying, \"O Muslim, come and wrestle before the\nday break!\" and tucked up her sleeves, showing a fore-arm like\nfresh curd; the whole place was lighted up by its whiteness and\nSherkan was dazzled by it. Then he bent forward and clapped his\nhands and she did the like, and they took hold and gripped each\nother. He laid his hands on her slender waist, so that the tips\nof his fingers sank into the folds of her belly, and his limbs\nrelaxed and he stood in the stead of desire, for there was\ndisplayed to him a body, in which was languishment of hearts, and\nhe fell a-trembling like the Persian reed in the hurricane. So\nshe lifted him up and throwing him to the ground, sat down on his\nbreast with buttocks like a hill of sand, for he was not master\nof his reason. Then she said to him, \"O Muslim, it is lawful\namong you to kill Christians; what sayst thou to my killing\nthee?\" \"O my lady,\" replied he, \"as for killing me, it is\nunlawful; for our Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) hath\nforbidden the slaying of women and children and old men and\nmonks.\" \"Since this was revealed unto your prophet,\" rejoined\nshe, \"it behoves us to be even with him therein; so rise: I give\nthee thy life, for beneficence is not lost upon men.\" Then she\ngot off his breast and he rose and brushed the earth from his\nhead, and she said to him, \"Be not abashed; but, indeed, one who\nenters the land of the Greeks in quest of booty and to succour\nkings against kings, how comes it that there is no strength in\nhim to defend himself against a woman?\" \"It was not lack of\nstrength in me,\" replied he; \"nor was it thy strength that\noverthrew me, but thy beauty: so if thou wilt grant me another\nbout, it will be of thy favour.\" She laughed and said, \"I grant\nthee this: but these damsels have been long bound and their arms\nand shoulders are weary, and it were fitting I should loose them,\nsince this next bout may peradventure be a long one.\" Then she\nwent up to the girls and unbinding them, said to them in the\nGreek tongue, \"Go and put yourselves in safety, till I have\nbrought to nought this Muslim's craving for you.\" So they went\naway, whilst Sherkan looked at them and they gazed at him and the\nyoung lady. Then she and he drew near again and set breast\nagainst breast; but, when he felt her belly against his, his\nstrength failed him, and she feeling this, lifted him in her\nhands, swiftlier than the blinding lightning, and threw him to\nthe ground. He fell on his back, and she said to him, \"Rise, I\ngive thee thy life a second time. I spared thee before for the\nsake of thy prophet, for that he forbade the killing of women,\nand I do so this second time because of thy weakness and tender\nage and strangerhood; but I charge thee, if there be, in the army\nsent by King Omar ben Ennuman to the succour of the King of\nConstantinople, a stronger than thou, send him hither and tell\nhim of me, for in wrestling there are divers kinds of strokes and\ntricks, such as feinting and the fore-tripe and the back-tripe\nand the leg-crick and the thigh-twist and the jostle and the\ncross-buttock.\" \"By Allah, O my lady,\" replied Sherkan, (and\nindeed he was greatly incensed against her), \"were I the chief Es\nSefedi or Mohammed Caimal or Ibn es Seddi,[FN#9] I had not\nobserved the fashion thou namest; for, by Allah, it was not by\nthy strength that thou overthrewest me, but by filling me with\nthe desire of thy buttocks, because we people of Chaldaea love\ngreat thighs, so that nor wit nor foresight was left in me. But\nnow if thou have a mind to try another fall with me, with my wits\nabout me, I have a right to this one bout more, by the rules of\nthe game, for my presence of mind has now returned to me.\" \"Hast\nthou not had enough of wrestling, O conquered one?\" rejoined she.\n\"However, come, if thou wilt; but know that this bout must be the\nlast.\" Then they took hold of each other and he set to in earnest\nand warded himself against being thrown down: so they strained\nawhile, and the damsel found in him strength such as she had not\nbefore observed and said to him, \"O Muslim, thou art on thy\nguard!\" \"Yes,\" replied he; \"thou knowest that there remaineth but\nthis bout, and after each of us will go his own way.\" She laughed\nand he laughed too: then she seized the opportunity to bore in\nupon him unawares, and gripping him by the thigh, threw him to\nthe ground, so that he fell on his back. She laughed at him and\nsaid, \"Thou art surely an eater of bran; for thou art like a\nBedouin bonnet, that falls at a touch, or a child's toy, that a\npuff of air overturns. Out on thee, thou poor creature! Go back\nto the army of the Muslims and send us other than thyself, for\nthou lackest thews, and cry us among the Arabs and Persians and\nTurks and Medes, 'Whoso has might in him, let him come to us.'\"\nThen she made a spring and landed on the other side of the stream\nand said to Sherkan, laughing, \"It goes to my heart to part with\nthee; get thee to thy friends, O my lord, before the morning,\nlest the knights come upon thee and take thee on the points of\ntheir lances. Thou hast not strength enough to defend thee\nagainst women; so how couldst thou make head against men and\ncavaliers?\" And she turned to go back to the monastery. Sherkan\nwas confounded and called out to her, saying, \"O my lady, wilt\nthou go away and leave the wretched stranger, the broken-hearted\nslave of love?\" So she turned to him, laughing, and said, \"What\nwouldst thou? I grant thy prayer.\" \"Have I set foot in thy\ncountry and tasted the sweetness of thy favours,\" replied\nSherkan, \"and shall I return without eating of thy victual\nand tasting thy hospitality? Indeed I am become one of thy\nservitors.\" Quoth she, \"None but the base refuses hospitality; on\nmy head and eyes be it! Do me the favour to mount and ride along\nthe bank of the stream, abreast of me, for thou art my guest.\" At\nthis Sherkan rejoiced and hastening back to his horse, mounted\nand rode along the river-bank, keeping abreast of her, till he\ncame to a drawbridge, that hung by pulleys and chains of steel,\nmade fast with hooks and padlocks. Here stood the ten damsels\nawaiting the lady, who spoke to one of them in the Greek tongue\nand said to her, \"Go to him and take his horse's rein and bring\nhim over to the monastery.\" So she went up to Sherkan and led him\nover the bridge to the other side and he followed her, amazed at\nwhat he saw and saying in himself, \"Would the Vizier Dendan were\nwith me, to look on these fair faces with his own eyes.\" Then he\nturned to the young lady and said to her, \"O wonder of beauty,\nnow art thou doubly bound to me, firstly, by the bond of\ncomradeship, and secondly for that thou carriest me to thy house\nand I accept of thy hospitality and am at thy disposal and under\nthy protection. So do me the favour to go with me to the land of\nIslam, where thou shalt look upon many a lion-hearted prince and\nknow who I am.\" His speech angered her and she said to him, \"By\nthe virtue of the Messiah, thou art keen of wit with me! But I\nsee now what depravity is in thy heart and how thou allowest\nthyself to say a thing that proves thee a traitor. How should I\ndo what thou sayest, when I know that, if I came to thy King Omar\nben Ennuman, I should never win free of him? For he has not the\nlike of me among his women nor in his palace, all lord of Baghdad\nand Khorassan as he is, with his twelve palaces, in number as the\nmonths of the year, and his concubines therein, in number as the\ndays thereof; and if I come to him, he will not respect me, for\nthat ye hold it lawful to take possession of the like of me, as\nit is said in your scripture, 'That which your right hand\npossesses.'[FN#10] So how canst thou speak thus to me? As for thy\nsaying, 'Thou shalt look upon the champions of the Muslims,' by\nthe Messiah, thou sayst that which is not true; for I saw your\narmy, when it reached our country, these two days ago, and I did\nnot see that your ordinance was that of kings, but beheld you\nonly as a rabble of men collected together. And as for thy\nsaying, 'Thou shalt know who I am,' I did not show thee courtesy\nof any intent to honour thee, but out of pride in myself; and the\nlike of thee should not say this to the like of me, even though\nthou be Sherkan himself, King Omar ben Ennuman's son, who is\nrenowned in these days.\" \"And dost thou know Sherkan?\" asked he.\n\"Yes,\" replied she; \"and I know of his coming with an army of ten\nthousand horse, for that he was sent by his father with these\ntroops to the succour of the King of Constantinople.\" \"O my\nlady,\" rejoined Sherkan, \"I conjure thee, as thou believest in\nthy religion, tell me the cause of all this, that I may know\ntruth from falsehood and with whom the fault lies.\" \"By the\nvirtue of thy faith,\" replied she, \"were it not that I fear lest\nthe news of me be bruited abroad that I am of the daughters of\nthe Greeks, I would adventure myself and sally forth against the\nten thousand horse and kill their chief, the Vizier Dendan, and\ntake their champion Sherkan. Nor would there be any reproach to\nme in this, for I have read books and know the Arabic language\nand have studied good breeding and polite letters. But I have no\nneed to vaunt my own prowess to thee, for thou hast tasted of my\nquality and proved my strength and skill and pre-eminence in\nwrestling; nor if Sherkan himself had been in thy place to-night\nand it had been said to him, 'Leap this river,' could he have\ndone so. And I could wish well that the Messiah would throw him\ninto my hands here in this monastery, that I might go forth to\nhim in the habit of a man and pull him from his saddle and take\nhim prisoner and lay him in fetters.\" When Sherkan heard this,\npride and heat and warlike jealousy overcame him and he was\nminded to discover himself and lay violent hands on her but her\nbeauty held him back from her, and he repeated the following\nverse:\n\nTheir charms, whatever fault the fair commit, A thousand\n     intercessors bring for it.\n\nSo she went up, and he after her; whilst he looked at her back\nand saw her buttocks smiting against each other, like the billows\nin the troubled sea; and he recited the following verses:\n\nIn her face an advocate harbours, who blots out her every fault\n     From the hearts of mankind, for he is mighty to intercede.\nWhenas I look at her face, I cry in my wonder aloud, \"The moon of\n     the skies in the night of her full is risen indeed!\"\nIf the Afrit of Belkis[FN#11] himself should wrestle a fall with\n     her, Her charms would throw him forthright, for all his\n     strength and speed.\n\nThey went on till they reached a vaulted gate, arched over with\nmarble. This she opened and entered with Sherkan into a long\nvestibule, vaulted with ten arches from each of which hung a lamp\nof crystal, shining like the rays of the sun. The damsels met her\nat the end of the vestibule, bearing perfumed flambeaux and\nhaving on their heads kerchiefs embroidered with all manner\njewels and went on before her, till they came to the inward of\nthe monastery, where Sherkan saw couches set up all around,\nfacing one another and overhung with curtains spangled with gold.\nThe floor was paved with all kinds of variegated marbles, and in\nthe midst was a basin of water, with four-and-twenty spouts of\ngold around it, from which issued water like liquid silver;\nwhilst at the upper end stood a throne covered with silks of\nroyal purple. Then said the damsel, \"O my lord, mount this\nthrone.\" So he seated himself on it, and she withdrew: and when\nshe had been absent awhile, he asked the servants of her, and\nthey said, \"She hath gone to her sleeping-chamber; but we will\nserve thee as thou shalt order.\" So they set before him rare\nmeats and he ate till he was satisfied, when they brought him a\nbasin of gold and an ewer of silver, and he washed his hands.\nThen his mind reverted to his troops, and he was troubled,\nknowing not what had befallen them in his absence and thinking\nhow he had forgotten his father's injunctions, so that he abode\noppressed with anxiety and repenting of what he had done, till\nthe dawn broke and the day appeared, when he lamented and sighed\nand became drowned in the sea of melancholy, repeating the\nfollowing verses:\n\nI lack not of prudence and yet in this case I've been fooled; so\n     what shift shall avail unto me?\nIf any could ease me of love and its stress, Of my might and my\n     virtue I'd set myself free.\nBut alas! my heart's lost in the maze of desire, And no helper\n     save God in my strait can I see.\n\nHardly had he finished, when up came more than twenty damsels\nlike moons, encompassing the young lady, who appeared amongst\nthem as the full moon among stars. She was clad in royal brocade\nand girt with a woven girdle set with various kinds of jewels,\nthat straitly clasped her waist and made her buttocks stand out\nas they were a hill of crystal upholding a wand of silver; and\nher breasts were like double pomegranates. On her head she wore a\nnetwork of pearls, gemmed with various kinds of jewels, and she\nmoved with a coquettish swimming gait, swaying wonder-gracefully,\nwhilst the damsels held up her skirts. When Sherkan saw her\nbeauty and grace, he was transported for joy and forgot his army\nand the Vizier Dendan end springing to his feet, cried out,\n\"Beware, beware of that girdle rare!\" and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nHeavy of buttocks, languorous of gait, With limber shape and\n     breasts right delicate,\nShe hides what passion in her bosom burns; Yet cannot I my heat\n     dissimulate.\nHer maidens, like strung pearls, behind her fare, Now all\n     dispersed now knit in ordered state.\n\nShe fixed her eyes on him and considered him awhile, till she was\nassured of him, when she came up to him and said, \"Indeed the\nplace is honoured and illumined by thy presence, O Sherkan! How\ndidst thou pass the night, O hero, after we went away and left\nthee? Verily lying is a defect and a reproach in kings,\nespecially in great kings; and thou art Sherkan, son of King Omar\nben Ennuman; so henceforth tell me nought but truth and strive\nnot to keep the secret of thy condition, for falsehood engenders\nhatred and enmity. The arrow of destiny hath fallen on thee, and\nit behoves thee to show resignation and submission.\" When Sherkan\nheard what she said, he saw nothing for it but to tell her the\ntruth so he said, \"I am indeed Sherkan, son of Omar ben Ennuman,\nwhom fortune hath afflicted and cast into this place: so now do\nwhatsoever thou wilt.\" She bowed her head a long while, then\nturned to him and said, \"Reassure thyself and be of good cheer;\nfor thou art my guest, and bread and salt have passed between us;\nso art thou in my safeguard and under my protection. Have no\nfear; by the virtue of the Messiah, if all the people of the\nearth sought to harm thee, they should not come at thee till the\nbreath had left my body for thy sake; for thou art under my\nprotection and that of the Messiah.\" Then she sat down by his\nside and began to sport with him, till his alarm subsided and he\nknew that, had she been minded to kill him, she would have done\nso on the past night. After awhile, she spoke in the Greek tongue\nto one of her serving-women, who went away and returned in a\nlittle with a goblet and a tray of food; but Sherkan abstained\nfrom eating, saying in himself, \"Maybe she hath put somewhat in\nthis meat.\" She knew what was in his thought; so she turned to\nhim and said, \"By the virtue of the Messiah, the case is not as\nthou deemest, nor is there aught in this food of what thou\nsuspectest! Were I minded to kill thee, I had done so before\nnow.\" Then she came to the table and ate a mouthful of every\ndish, whereupon Sherkan came forward and fell to. She was pleased\nat this, and they both ate till they were satisfied, after which\nshe let bring perfumes and sweet-smelling herbs and wines of all\ncolours and kinds, in vessels of gold and silver and crystal. She\nfilled a first cup and drank it off, before offering it to\nSherkan, even as she had done with the food. Then she filled a\nsecond time and gave the cup to him. He drank and she said to\nhim, \"See, O Muslim, how thou art in the utmost delight and\npleasure of life!\" And she ceased not to drink and to ply him\nwith drink, till he took leave of his wits, for the wine and the\nintoxication of love for her. Presently she said to the\nserving-maid, \"O Merjaneh, bring us some instruments of music.\"\n\"I hear and obey,\" replied Merjaneh, and going out, returned\nimmediately with a lute, a Persian harp, a Tartar flute and an\nEgyptian dulcimer. The young lady took the lute and tuning it,\nsang to it in a dulcet voice, softer than the zephyr and sweeter\nthan the waters of Tesnim,[FN#12] the following verses:\n\nMay Allah assoilzie thine eyes! How much is the blood they have\n     shed! How great is the tale of the shafts thy pitiless\n     glances have sped!\nI honour the mistress, indeed, that harshly her suitor entreats;\n     'Tis sin in the loved to relent or pity a lover misled.\nFair fortune and grace to the eyes that watch the night,\n     sleepless, for thee, And hail to the heart of thy slave, by\n     day that is heavy as lead!\n'Tis thine to condemn me to death, for thou art my king and my\n     lord. With my life I will ransom the judge, who heapeth\n     unright on my head.\n\nThen each of the damsels rose and taking an instrument played and\nsang to it in the Greek language. The lady their mistress, sang\nalso, to Sherkan's delight. Then she said to him, \"O Muslim, dost\nthou understand what I say?\" \"No,\" replied he; \"it was the beauty\nof thy finger-tips that threw me into ecstasies.\" She laughed and\nsaid, \"If I sang to thee in Arabic, what wouldst thou do?\" \"I\nshould lose the mastery of my reason,\" replied he. So she took an\ninstrument and changing the measure, sang the following verses:\n\nParting must ever bitter be; How shall one bear it patiently?\nThree things are heavy on my heart, Absence, estrangement,\n     cruelty.\nI love a fair to whom I'm thrall, And severance bitter is to me.\n\nThen she looked at Sherkan and found he had lost his senses for\ndelight: and he lay amongst them insensible awhile, after which\nhe revived and recalling the singing inclined to mirth. Then they\nfell again to drinking and ceased not from sport and merriment\ntill the day departed with the evening and the night let fall her\nwings. Thereupon she rose and retired to her chamber. Sherkan\nenquired after her and being told that she was gone to her\nbedchamber, said, \"I commend her to the safe-keeping of God and\nto His protection!\" As soon as it was day, a waiting-woman came\nto him and said, \"My mistress bids thee to her.\" So he rose and\nfollowed her, and as he drew near her lodging, the damsels\nreceived him with smitten tabrets and songs of greeting and\nescorted him to a great door of ivory set with pearls and jewels.\nHere they entered and he found himself in a spacious saloon, at\nthe upper end of which was a great estrade, carpeted with various\nkinds of silk, and round it open lattices giving upon trees and\nstreams. About the place were figures, so fashioned that the air\nentered them and set in motion instruments of music within them,\nand it seemed to the beholder as if they spoke. Here sat the\nyoung lady, looking on the figures; but when she saw Sherkan, she\nsprang to her feet and taking him by the hand, made him sit down\nby her and asked him how he had passed the night. He blessed her\nand they sat talking awhile, till she said to him, \"Knowest thou\naught touching lovers and slaves of passion?\" \"Yes,\" replied he;\n\"I know some verses on the subject.\" \"Let me hear them,\" said\nshe. So he repeated the following verses:\n\nPleasure and health, O Azzeh, and good digestion to thee! How\n     with our goods and our names and our honours thou makest\n     free!\nBy Allah, whene'er I blow hot, she of a sudden blows cold, And no\n     sooner do I draw near, than off at a tangent flies she!\nIndeed, as I dote upon Azzeh, as soon as I've cleared me of all\n     That stands between us and our loves, she turns and abandons\n     me;\nAs a traveller that trusts in the shade of a cloud for his\n     noontide rest, But as soon as he halts, the shade flits and\n     the cloud in the distance cloth flee.\n\nWhen she heard this, she said, \"Verily Kutheiyir[FN#13] was a\npoet of renown and a master of chaste eloquence and attained rare\nperfection in praise of Azzeh, especially when he says:\n\n'If Azzeh should before a judge the sun of morning cite, Needs\n     must the umpire doom to her the meed of beauty bright;\nAnd women all, who come to me, at her to rail and flite, God make\n     your cheeks the sandal-soles whereon her feet alight!'\n\n\"And indeed it is reported,\" added she, \"that Azzeh was endowed\nwith the extreme of beauty and grace.\" Then she said to Sherkan,\n\"O king's son, dost thou know aught of Jemil's[FN#14] verses to\nButheineh?\" \"Yes,\" replied he; \"none knows Jemil's verses better\nthan I.\" And he repeated the following:\n\n\"Up and away to the holy war, Jemil!\" they say; and I, \"What have\n     I to do with waging war except among the fair?\"\nFor deed and saying with them alike are full of ease and cheer,\n     And he's a martyr[FN#15] who tilts with them and falleth\n     fighting there.\nIf I say to Butheineh, \"What is this love, that eateth my life\n     away?\" She answers, \"Tis rooted fast in thy heart and will\n     increase fore'er.\"\nOr if I beg her to give me back some scantling of my wit,\n     Wherewith to deal with the folk and live, she answereth,\n     \"Hope it ne'er!\"\nThou willst my death, ah, woe is me! thou willst nought else but\n     that; Yet I, I can see no goal but thee, towards which my\n     wishes fare.\n\n\"Thou hast done well, O king's son,\" said she, \"and Jemil also\ndid excellently well. But what would Butheineh have done with him\nthat he says, 'Thou wishest to kill me and nought else?'\" \"O my\nlady,\" replied he, \"she sought to do with him what thou seekest\nto do with me, and even that will not content thee.\" She laughed\nat his answer, and they ceased not to carouse till the day\ndeparted and the night came with the darkness. Then she rose and\nwent to her sleeping-chamber, and Sherkan slept in his place till\nthe morning. As soon as he awoke, the damsels came to him with\ntambourines and other instruments of music, according to their\nwont, and kissing the earth before him, said to him, \"In the name\nof God, deign to follow us; for our mistress bids thee to her.\"\nSo he rose and accompanied the girls, who escorted him, smiting\non tabrets and other instruments of music, to another saloon,\nbigger than the first and decorated with pictures and figures of\nbirds and beasts, passing description. Sherkan wondered at the\nfashion of the place and repeated the following verses:\n\nMy rival plucks, of the fruits of the necklets branching wide,\n     Pearls of the breasts in gold enchased and beautified\nWith running fountains of liquid silver in streams And cheeks of\n     rose and beryl, side by side.\nIt seemeth, indeed, as if the violet's colour vied With the\n     sombre blue of the eyes, with antimony dyed.[FN#16]\n\nWhen the lady saw Sherkan, she came to meet him, and taking him\nby the hand, said to him, \"O son of King Omar ben Ennuman, hast\nthou any skill in the game of chess?\" \"Yes,\" replied he; \"but do\nnot thou be as says the poet.\" And he repeated the following\nverses:\n\nI speak, and passion, the while, folds and unfolds me aye; But a\n     draught of the honey of love my spirits thirst could stay.\nI sit at the chess with her I love, and she plays with me, With\n     white and with black; but this contenteth me no way.\nMeseemeth as if the king were set in the place of the rook And\n     sought with the rival queens a bout of the game to play.\nAnd if I looked in her eyes, to spy the drift of her moves, The\n     amorous grace of her glance would doom me to death\n     straightaway.\n\nThen she brought the chess-board and played with him; but instead\nof looking at her moves, he looked at her face and set the knight\nin the place of the elephant[FN#17] and the elephant in the place\nof the knight. She laughed and said to him, \"If this be thy play,\nthou knowest nothing of the game.\" \"This is only the first bout,\"\nreplied he; \"take no count of it.\" She beat him, and he replaced\nthe pieces and played again with her; but she beat him a second\ntime and a third and a fourth and a fifth. So she fumed to him\nand said, \"Thou art beaten in everything.\" \"O my lady,\" answered\nhe, \"how should one not be beaten, who plays with the like of\nthee?\" Then she called for food, and they ate and washed their\nhands, after which the maids brought wine, and they drank.\nPresently, the lady took the dulcimer, for she was skilled to\nplay thereon, and sang to it the following verses:\n\nFortune is still on the shift, now gladness and now woe; I liken\n     it to the tide, in its ceaseless ebb and flow.\nSo drink, if thou have the power, whilst it is yet serene, Lest\n     it at unawares depart, and thou not know.\n\n\nThey gave not over carousing till nightfall, and this day was\npleasanter than the first. When the night came, the lady went to\nher sleeping-chamber, leaving Sherkan with the damsels. So he\nthrew himself on the ground and slept till the morning, when\nthe damsels came to him with tambourines and other musical\ninstruments, according to their wont. When he saw them, he sat\nup; and they took him and carried him to their mistress, who came\nto meet him and taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her\nside. Then she asked him how he had passed the night, to which he\nreplied by wishing her long life; and she took the lute and sang\nthe following verses:\n\nIncline not to parting, I pray, For bitter its taste is  alway.\nThe sun at his setting grows pale, To think he must part from the\n     day.\n\nHardly had she made an end of singing, when there arose of a\nsudden a great clamour, and a crowd of men and knights rushed\ninto the place, with naked swords gleaming in their hands, crying\nout in the Greek tongue, \"Thou hast fallen into our hands, O\nSherkan! Be sure of death!\" When he heard this, he said to\nhimself, \"By Allah, she hath laid a trap for me and held me in\nplay, till her men should come! These are the knights with whom\nshe threatened me: but it is I who have thrown myself into this\nperil.\" Then he turned to the lady to reproach her, but saw that\nshe had changed colour; and she sprang to her feet and said to\nthe new-comers, \"Who are ye?\" \"O noble princess and unpeered\npearl,\" replied the knight their chief, \"dost thou know who is\nthis man with thee?\" \"Not I,\" answered she. \"Who is he?\" Quoth\nthe knight, \"He is the despoiler of cities and prince of\ncavaliers, Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. This is he who\ncaptures the citadels and masters the most impregnable strengths.\nThe news of him reached King Herdoub, thy father, by the report\nof the old princess Dhat ed Dewahi; and thou hast done good\nservice to the army of the Greeks by helping them to lay hands on\nthis pestilent lion.\" When she heard this, she looked at the\nknight and said to him, \"What is thy name?\" And he answered, \"My\nname is Masoureh son of thy slave Mousoureh ben Kasherdeh, chief\nof the nobles.\" Quoth she, \"And how camest thou in to me without\nmy leave?\" \"O our lady,\" replied he, \"when I came to the gate,\nneither chamberlain nor porter offered me any hindrance; but all\nthe gate-keepers rose and forewent me as of wont; though, when\nothers come, they leave them standing at the gate, whilst they\nask leave for them to enter. But this is no time for long talk,\nfor the King awaits our return to him with this prince, who is\nthe mainstay of the army of Islam, that he may kill him and that\nhis troops may depart whence they came, without our having the\ntoil of fighting them.\" \"Thou sayest an ill thing,\" rejoined the\nprincess. \"Verily, the lady Dhat ed Dewahi lied; and she hath\navouched a vain thing, of which she knows not the truth; for by\nthe virtue of the Messiah, this man who is with me is not\nSherkan, nor is he a captive, but a stranger, who came to us,\nseeking hospitality, and we received him as a guest. So, even\nwere we assured that this was Sherkan and did we know that it was\nhe beyond doubt, it would suit ill with my honour that I should\ndeliver into your hands one who hath come under my safeguard.\nBetray me not, therefore, in the person of my guest, neither\nbring me into ill repute among men; but return to the King my\nfather and kiss the earth before him and tell him that the case\nis not according to the report of the lady Dhat ed Dewahi.\" \"O\nAbrizeh,\" replied the knight Masoureh, \"I cannot go back to the\nKing without his enemy.\" Quoth she (and indeed she was angry),\n\"Out on thee! Return to him with the answer, and no blame shall\nfall on thee.\" But he said, \"I will not return without him.\" At\nthis her colour changed and she exclaimed, \"A truce to talk and\nidle words; for of a verity this man would not have come in to\nus, except he were assured that he could of himself make head\nagainst a hundred horse; and if I said to him, 'Art thou Sherkan,\nson of King Omar ben Ennuman?' he would answer, 'Yes.' Nathless,\nit is not in your power to hinder him; for if ye beset him, he\nwill not turn back from you, till he have slain all that are in\nthe place. Behold, he is with me and I will bring him before you,\nwith his sword and buckler in his hands.\" \"If I be safe from thy\nwrath,\" replied Masoureh, \"I am not safe from that of thy father,\nand when I see him, I shall sign to the knights to take him\nprisoner, and we will carry him, bound and abject, to the King.\"\nWhen she heard this, she said, \"The thing shall not pass thus,\nfor it would be a disgrace. This man is but one and ye are a\nhundred. So, an ye be minded to attack him, come out against him,\none after one, that it may appear to the King which is the\nvaliant amongst you.\" \"By the Messiah,\" rejoined Masoureh, \"thou\nsayest sooth, and none but I shall go out against him first!\"\nThen she said, \"Wait till I go to him and tell him and hear what\nhe says. If he consent, it is well but if he refuse, ye shall not\nanywise come at him, for I and my damsels and all that are in the\nhouse will be his ransom.\" So she went to Sherkan and told him\nthe case, whereat he smiled and knew that she had not betrayed\nhim, but that the matter had been bruited abroad, till it came to\nthe King, against her wish. So he laid all the blame on himself,\nsaying, \"How came I to venture myself in the country of the\nGreeks?\" Then he said to her, \"Indeed, to let them tilt against\nme, one by one, were to lay on them a burden more than they can\nbear. Will they not come out against me, ten by ten?\" \"That were\nknavery and oppression,\" replied she. \"One man is a match for\nanother.\" When he heard this, he sprang to his feet and made\ntowards them, with his sword and battle-gear; and Masoureh also\nsprang up and rushed on him. Sherkan met him like a lion and\nsmote him with his sword upon the shoulder, that the blade came\nout gleaming from his back and vitals. When the princess saw\nthis, Sherkan's prowess was magnified in her eyes and she knew\nthat she had not overthrown him by her strength, but by her\nbeauty and grace. So she turned to the knights and said to them,\n\"Avenge your chief!\" Thereupon out came the slain man's brother,\na fierce warrior, and rushed upon Sherkan, who delayed not, but\nsmote him on the shoulders, and the sword came out, gleaming,\nfrom his vitals. Then cried the princess, \"O servants of the\nMessiah, avenge your comrades!\" So they ceased not to come out\nagainst him, one by one, and he plied them with the sword, till\nhe had slain fifty knights, whilst the princess looked on. And\nGod cast terror into the hearts of those who were left, so that\nthey held back and dared not meet him in single combat, but\nrushed on him all at once; and he drove at them with a heart\nfirmer than a rock and smote them as the thresher smiteth the\ncorn, till he had driven sense and life forth of them. Then the\nprincess cried out to her damsels, saying, \"Who is left in the\nmonastery?\" \"None but the porters,\" replied they; whereupon she\nwent up to Sherkan and embraced him, and he returned with her to\nthe saloon, after he had made an end of the mellay. Now there\nremained a few of the knights hidden in the cells of the convent,\nand when Abrizeh saw this, she rose and going away, returned,\nclad in a strait-ringed coat of mail and holding in her hand a\nscimitar of Indian steel. And she said, \"By the virtue of the\nMessiah, I will not be grudging of myself for my guest nor will I\nabandon him, though for this I abide a reproach in the land of\nthe Greeks!\" Then she counted the dead and found that he had\nslain fourscore of the knights and other twenty had taken flight.\nWhen she saw how he had dealt with them, she said to him, \"God\nbless thee, O Sherkan! The cavaliers may well glory in the like\nof thee!\" Then he rose and wiping his sword of the blood of the\nslain, repeated the following verses:\n\nHow often in battle I've cleft the array And given the champions\n     to wild beasts a prey!\nAsk all men what happened to me and to them, When I drove through\n     the ranks on the sword-smiting day.\nI left ail their lions of war overthrown: On the sun-scorched\n     sands of those countries they lay.\n\nWhen he had finished, the princess came up to him and kissed his\nhand; then she put off her coat of mail, and he said to her, \"O\nmy lady, wherefore didst thou don that coat of mail and bare thy\nsabre?\" \"It was of my care for thee against yonder wretches,\"\nreplied she. Then she called the porters and said to them, \"How\ncame you to let the king's men enter my house, without my leave!\"\n\"O princess,\" replied they, \"we have not used to need to ask\nleave for the king's messengers, and especially for the chief of\nthe knights.\" Quoth she, \"I think you were minded to dishonour me\nand slay my guest.\" And she bade Sherkan strike off their heads.\nHe did so and she said to the rest of her servants, \"Indeed, they\ndeserved more than that.\" Then turning to Sherkan, she said to\nhim, \"Now that there hath become manifest to thee what was\nhidden, I will tell thee my story. Know, then, that I am the\ndaughter of Herdoub, King of Roum; my name is Abrizeh and the old\nwoman called Dhat ed Dewahi is my grandmother, my father's\nmother. She it was who told my father of thee, and she will\ncertainly cast about to ruin me, especially as thou hast slain my\nfather's men and it is noised abroad that I have made common\ncause with the Muslims. Wherefore it were wiser that I should\nleave dwelling here, what while Dhat ed Dewahi is behind me; but\nI claim of thee the like kindness and courtesy I have shown thee,\nfor my father and I are now become at odds on thine account. So\ndo not thou omit to do aught that I shall say to thee, for indeed\nall this hath fallen out through thee.\" At this, Sherkan was\ntransported for joy and his breast dilated, and he said, \"By\nAllah, none shall come at thee, whilst my life lasts in my body!\nBut canst thou endure the parting from thy father and thy folk?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered she. So Sherkan swore to her and they made a\ncovenant of this. Then said she, \"Now my heart is at ease; but\nthere is one other condition I must exact of thee.\" \"What is\nthat?\" asked Sherkan. \"It is,\" replied she, \"that thou return\nwith thy troops to thine own country.\" \"O my lady,\" said he, \"my\nfather, King Omar ben Ennuman, sent me to make war upon thy\nfather, on account of the treasure he took from the King of\nConstantinople, and amongst the rest three great jewels, rich in\nhappy properties.\" \"Reassure thyself,\" answered she; \"I will tell\nthee the truth of the matter and the cause of the feud between us\nand the King of Constantinople. Know that we have a festival\ncalled the Festival of the Monastery, for which each year the\nkings' daughters of various countries and the wives and daughters\nof the notables and merchants resort to a certain monastery and\nabide there seven days. I was wont to resort thither with the\nrest; but when there befell hostility between us, my father\nforbade me to be present at the festival for the space of seven\nyears. One year, it chanced that amongst the young ladies who\nresorted to the Festival as of wont, there came the King's\ndaughter of Constantinople, a handsome girl called Sufiyeh.\nThey tarried at the monastery six days, and on the seventh,\nthe folk went away; but Sufiyeh said, 'I will not return to\nConstantinople, but by sea.' So they fitted her out a ship, in\nwhich she embarked, she and her suite, and put out to sea; but as\nthey sailed, a contrary wind caught them and drove the ship from\nher course, till, as fate and providence would have it, she fell\nin with a ship of the Christians from the Island of Camphor, with\na crew of five hundred armed Franks, who had been cruising about\nfor some time. When they sighted the sails of the ship in which\nwere Sufiyeh and her maidens, they gave chase in all haste and\ncoming up with her before long, threw grapnels on board and made\nfast to her. Then they made all sail for their own island and\nwere but a little distant from it, when the wind veered and rent\ntheir sails and cast them on to a reef on our coast. Thereupon we\nsallied forth on them, and looking on them as booty driven to us\nby fate, slew the men and made prize of the ships, in which we\nfound the treasures and rarities in question and forty damsels,\namongst whom was Sufiyeh. We carried the damsels to my father,\nnot knowing that the King's daughter of Constantinople was among\nthem, and he chose out ten of them, including Sufiyeh, for\nhimself, and divided the rest among his courtiers. Then he set\napart Sufiyeh and four other girls and sent them to thy father,\nKing Omar ben Ennuman, together with other presents, such as\ncloth and stuffs of wool and Grecian silks. Thy father accepted\nthem and chose out from amongst the five girls the princess\nSufiyeh, daughter of King Afridoun; nor did we hear aught more of\nthe matter till the beginning of this year, when King Afridoun\nwrote to my father in terms which it befits not to repeat,\nreproaching and menacing him and saying to him, 'Two years ago,\nthere fell into thy hands a ship of ours, that had been seized by\na company of Frankish corsairs and in which was my daughter\nSufiyeh, attended by near threescore damsels. Yet thou sentest\nnone to tell me of this and I could not make the case public,\nlest disgrace fall on my repute among the kings, by reason of my\ndaughter's dishonour. So I kept the affair secret till this year,\nwhen I communicated with certain of the Frankish pirates and\nsought news of my daughter from the kings of the islands. They\nreplied, \"By Allah, we carried her not forth of thy realm, but we\nhave heard that King Herdoub took her from certain pirates.\" And\nthey told me all that had befallen her. So now, except thou wish\nto be at feud with me and design to disgrace me and dishonour my\ndaughter, thou wilt forthright, as soon as this letter reaches\nthee, send my daughter back to me. But if thou pay no heed to my\nletter and disobey my commandment, I will assuredly requite thee\nthy foul dealing and the baseness of thine acts.' When my father\nread this letter, it was grievous to him and he regretted not\nhaving known that Sufiyeh, King Afridoun's daughter, was amongst\nthe captured damsels, that he might have sent her back to her\nfather; and he was perplexed about the affair, for that, after\nthe lapse of so long a time, he could not send to King Omar ben\nEnnuman and demand her back from him, the more that he had lately\nheard that God had vouchsafed him children by this very Sufiyeh.\nSo when we considered the matter, we knew that this letter was\nnone other than a great calamity; and nothing would serve but\nthat my father must write an answer to it, making his excuses to\nKing Afridoun and swearing to him that he knew not that his\ndaughter was among the girls in the ship and setting forth how he\nhad sent her to King Omar ben Ennuman and God had vouchsafed him\nchildren by her. When my father's reply reached King Afridoun, he\nrose and sat down and roared and foamed at the mouth, exclaiming,\n'What! shall he make prize of my daughter and she become a\nslave-girl and be passed from hand to hand and sent for a gift to\nkings, and they lie with her without a contract? By the virtue of\nthe Messiah and the true faith, I will not desist till I have\ntaken my revenge for this and wiped out my disgrace, and indeed I\nwill do a deed that the chroniclers shall chronicle after me.' So\nhe took patience till he had devised a plot and laid great\nsnares, when he sent an embassy to thy father King Omar, to tell\nhim that which thou hast heard so that thy father equipped thee\nand an army with thee and sent thee to him, Afridoun's object\nbeing to lay hold of thee and thine army with thee. As for the\nthree jewels of which he told thy father, he spoke not the truth\nof them; for they were with Sufiyeh and my father took them from\nher, when she fell into his hands, she and her maidens, and gave\nthem to me, and they are now with me. So go thou to thy troops\nand turn them back, ere they fare farther into the land of the\nFranks and the country of the Greeks; for as soon as you are come\nfar enough into the inward of the country, they will stop the\nroads upon you, and there will be no escape for you from their\nhands till the day of rewards and punishments. I know that thy\ntroops are still where thou leftest them, because thou didst\norder them to halt there three days; and they have missed thee\nall this time and know not what to do.\" When Sherkan heard her\nwords, he was absent awhile in thought then he kissed Abrizeh's\nhand and said, \"Praise be to God who hath bestowed thee on me and\nappointed thee to be the cause of my salvation and that of those\nwho are with me! But it is grievous to me to part from thee and I\nknow not what will become of thee after my departure.\" Quoth she,\n\"Go now to thy troops and lead them back, whilst ye are yet near\nyour own country. If the ambassadors are still with them, lay\nhands on them, that the case may be made manifest to thee, and\nafter three days I will rejoin thee and we will all enter Baghdad\ntogether; but forget thou not the compact between us.\" Then she\nrose to bid him farewell and assuage the fire of longing; so she\ntook leave of him and embraced him and wept sore; whereupon\npassion and desire were sore upon him and he also wept and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nI bade her farewell, whilst my right hand was wiping my eyes, And\n     still with my left, the while, I held her in close embrace.\nThen, \"Fearest thou not disgrace?\" quoth she; and I answered,\n     \"No. Sure, on the parting-day, for lovers there's no\n     disgrace!\"\n\nThen Sherkan left her and went without the monastery, where they\nbrought him his horse and he mounted and rode down the bank of\nthe stream, till he came to the bridge, and crossing it, entered\nthe forest. As soon as he was clear of the trees and came to the\nopen country, he was aware of three horsemen pricking towards\nhim. So he drew his sword and rode on cautiously: but as they\ndrew near he recognized them and behold, it was the Vizier Dendan\nand two of his officers. When they saw him and knew him, they\ndismounted and saluting him, asked the reason of his absence,\nwhereupon he told them all that had passed between him and the\nprincess Abrizeh from first to last. The Vizier returned thanks\nto God the Most High for his safety and said, \"Let us at once\ndepart hence, for the ambassadors that were with us are gone to\ninform their king of our arrival, and belike he will hasten to\nfall on us and seize us.\" So they rode on in haste, till they\ncame to the camp, when Sherkan commanded to depart forthright,\nand the army set out and journeyed by forced marches for five\ndays, at the end of which time they alighted in a thickly wooded\nvalley, where they rested awhile. Then they set out again and\nfared on till they came to the frontiers of their own country.\nHere they felt themselves in safety and halted to rest; and the\ncountry people came out to them with guest-gifts and victual and\nfodder for the cattle. They lay there and rested two days; after\nwhich Sherkan bade the Vizier Dendan fare forward to Baghdad with\nhis troops, and he did so. But Sherkan himself abode behind with\na hundred horse, till the rest of the army had been gone a day,\nwhen he mounted, he and his men, and fared on two parasangs'\nspace, till they came to a narrow pass between two mountains and\nbehold, there arose a great cloud of dust in their front. So they\nhalted their horses awhile, till the dust lifted and discovered a\nhundred cavaliers, as they were fierce lions, cased in complete\nsteel As soon as they came within earshot of Sherkan and his men,\nthey cried out to them, saying, \"By John and Mary, we have gotten\nwhat we hoped! We have been following you by forced marches,\nnight and day, till we forewent you in this place. So alight and\nlay down your arms and yield yourselves, that we may grant you\nyour lives.\" When Sherkan heard this, his eyes rolled and his\ncheeks flushed and he said, \"O dogs of Nazarenes, how dare ye\nenter our country and set foot on our earth? And doth not this\nsuffice you, but ye must adventure yourselves and give us such\nwords as these? Do ye think to escape out of our hands and return\nto your country?\" Then he cried out to his hundred horse, saying,\n\"Up and at these dogs, for they are even as you in number!\" So\nsaying, he drew his sword and drove at them, without further\nparley, he and his hundred men. The Franks received them with\nhearts stouter than stone, and they met, man to man. Then fell\nchampion upon champion and there befell a sore strife and great\nwas the terror and the roar of the battle; nor did they leave\njousting and foining and smiting with swords, till the day\ndeparted and the night came with the darkness; when they drew\napart, and Sherkan mustered his men and found them all unhurt,\nsave four who were slightly wounded. Then said he to them, \"By\nAllah, all my life I have waded in the surging sea of war and\nbattle, but never saw I any so firm and stout in sword-play and\nshock of men as these warriors!\" \"Know, O King,\" replied they,\n\"that there is among them a Frank cavalier, who is their leader,\nand indeed he is a man of valour and his strokes are terrible:\nbut, by Allah, he spares us, great and small; for whoso falls\ninto his hands, he lets him go and forbears to slay him. By\nAllah, an he would, he could kill us all!\" When Sherkan heard\nthis, he was confounded and said, \"To-morrow, we will draw out\nand defy them to single combat, for we are a hundred to their\nhundred; and we will seek help against them from the Lord of the\nheavens.\" Meanwhile, the Franks came to their leader and said to\nhim, \"Of a truth, we have not come by our desire of these this\nday.\" \"To-morrow,\" quoth he, \"we will draw out and joust against\nthem, one by one.\" So they passed the night in this mind, and\nboth camps kept watch till the morning. As soon as God the Most\nHigh brought on the day, King Sherkan mounted, with his hundred\nhorse, and they betook themselves to the field, where they found\nthe Franks ranged in battle array, and Sherkan said to his men,\n\"Verily, our enemies are of the same mind as we; so up and at\nthem briskly.\" Then came forth a herald of the Franks and cried\nout, saying, \"Let there be no fighting betwixt us to-day, except\nby way of single combat, a champion of yours against one of\nours!\" Thereupon one of Sherkan's men came out from the ranks and\nspurring between the two parties, cried out, \"Who is for\njousting? Who is for fighting? Let no laggard nor weakling come\nout against me to-day!\" Hardly had he made an end of speaking,\nwhen there sallied forth to him a Frankish horseman, armed\ncap-a-pie and clad in cloth of gold, riding on a gray horse, and\nhe had no hair on his cheeks. He drove his horse into the midst\nof the field and the two champions fell to cutting and thrusting,\nnor was it long before the Frank smote the Muslim with his lance\nand unhorsing him, took him prisoner and bore him off in triumph.\nAt this, his comrades rejoiced and forbidding him to go out\nagain, sent forth another to the field, to whom sallied out a\nsecond Muslim, the brother of the first. The two drove at each\nother and fought for a little, till the Frank ran at the Muslim\nand throwing him off his guard by a feint, smote him with the\nbutt-end of his spear and unhorsed him and took him prisoner.\nAfter this fashion, the Muslims ceased not to come forth and the\nFranks to unhorse them and take them prisoner, till the day\ndeparted and the night came with the darkness. Now they had\ncaptured twenty cavaliers of the Muslims, and when Sherkan saw\nthis, it was grievous to him, and he mustered his men and said to\nthem, \"What is this thing that hath befallen us? To-morrow\nmorning, I myself will go out into the field and seek to joust\nwith their chief and learn his reason for entering our country\nand warn him against fighting. If he persist, we will do battle\nwith him, and if he proffer peace, we will make peace with him.\"\nThey passed the night thus, and when God brought on the day, both\nparties mounted and drew out in battle array. Then Sherkan was\nabout to sally forth, when behold, more than half of the Franks\ndismounted and marched on foot, before one of them, who was\nmounted, to the midst of the field. Sherkan looked at this\ncavalier and behold, he was their chief. He was clad in a tunic\nof blue satin and a close-ringed shirt of mail; his face was as\nthe full moon at its rising and he had no hair on his cheeks. In\nhis hand he held a sword of Indian steel, and he was mounted on a\nblack horse with a white star, like a dirhem, on his forehead. He\nspurred into the midst of the field and signing to the Muslims,\ncried out with fluent speech in the Arabic tongue, saying, \"Ho,\nSherkan! Ho, son of Omar ben Ennuman, thou that stormest the\ncitadels and layest waste the lands, up and out to joust and\nbattle with him who halves the field with thee! Thou art prince\nof thy people and I am prince of mine; and whoso hath the upper\nhand, the other's men shall come under his sway.\" Hardly had he\nmade an end of speaking, when out came Sherkan, with a heart full\nof wrath, and spurring his horse into the midst of the field,\ndrove like an angry lion at the Frank, who awaited him with calm\nand steadfastness and met him as a champion should. Then they\nfell to cutting and thrusting, nor did they cease to wheel and\nturn and give and take, as they were two mountains clashing\ntogether or two seas breaking one against the other, till the day\ndeparted and the night brought on the darkness, when they drew\napart and returned, each to his people. As soon as Sherkan\nreached his comrades, he said to them, \"Never in my life saw I\nthe like of this cavalier; and he has one fashion I never yet\nbeheld in any. It is that, when he has a chance of dealing his\nadversary a deadly blow, he reverses his lance and smites him\nwith the butt. Of a truth, I know not what will be the issue\nbetween him and me; but I would we had in our army his like and\nthe like of his men.\" Then he passed the night in sleep, and when\nit was morning, the Frank spurred out to the mid-field, where\nSherkan met him, and they fell to fighting and circling one about\nthe other, whilst all necks were stretched out to look at them;\nnor did they cease from battle and swordplay and thrusting with\nspears, till the day departed and the night came with the\ndarkness, when they drew asunder and returned each to his own\ncamp. Then each related to his comrades what had befallen him\nwith his adversary, and the Frank said to his men, \"To-morrow\nshall decide the matter.\" So they both passed the night in sleep,\nand as soon as it was day, they mounted and drove at each other\nand ceased not to fight till the middle of the day. Then the\nFrank made a shift, first spurring his horse and then checking\nhim with the bridle, so that he stumbled and threw him; whereupon\nSherkan fell on him and was about to smite him with his sword and\nmake an end of the long strife, when the Frank cried out, \"O\nSherkan, this is not the fashion of champions! It is only the\nbeaten[FN#18] who deal thus with women.\" When Sherkan heard this,\nhe raised his eyes to the Frank's face and looking straitly at\nhim, knew him for none other than the princess Abrizeh, whereupon\nhe threw the sword from his hand and kissing the earth before\nher, said to her, \"What moved thee to do this thing?\" Quoth she,\n\"I was minded to prove thee in the field and try thy stoutness in\nbattle. These that are with me are all of them my women, and they\nare all maids; yet have they overcome thy horsemen in fair fight;\nand had not my horse stumbled with me, thou shouldst have seen my\nstrength and prowess.\" Sherkan smiled at her speech and said,\n\"Praised be God for safety and for my reunion with thee, O queen\nof the age!\" Then she cried out to her damsels to loose the\nprisoners and dismount. They did as she bade and came and kissed\nthe earth before her and Sherkan, who said to them, \"It is the\nlike of you that kings treasure up against the hour of need.\"\nThen he signed to his comrades to salute the princess; so they\ndismounted all and kissed the earth before her, for they knew the\nstory. After this, the whole two hundred mounted and rode day and\nnight for six days' space, till they drew near to Baghdad when\nthey halted and Sherkan made Abrizeh and her companions put off\ntheir male attire and don the dress of the women of the Greeks.\nThen he despatched a company of his men to Baghdad to acquaint\nhis father with his arrival in company with the princess Abrizeh,\ndaughter of King Herdoub, to the intent that he might send some\none to meet her. They passed the night in that place, and when\nGod the Most High brought on the day, Sherkan and his company\ntook horse and fared on towards the city. On the way, they met\nthe Vizier Dendan, who had come out with a thousand horse, by\ncommandment of King Omar, to do honour to the princess Abrizeh\nand to Sherkan. When they drew near, the Vizier and his company\ndismounted and kissed the earth before the prince and princess,\nthen mounted again and escorted them, till they reached the city\nand came to the palace. Sherkan went in to his father, who rose\nand embraced him and questioned him of what had happened. So he\ntold him all that had befallen him, including what the princess\nAbrizeh had told him and what had passed between them and how she\nhad left her father and her kingdom and had chosen to depart and\ntake up her abode with them. And he said to his father, \"Indeed,\nthe King of Constantinople had plotted to do us a mischief,\nbecause of his daughter Sufiyeh, for that the King of Caesarea\nhad made known to him her history and the manner of her being\nmade a gift to thee, he not knowing her to be King Afridoun's\ndaughter; else would he have restored her to her father. And of a\nverity, we were only saved from these perils by the lady Abrizeh,\nand never saw I a more valiant than she!\" And he went on to tell\nhis father of the wrestling and the jousting from beginning to\nend. When King Omar heard his son's story, Abrizeh was exalted in\nhis eyes, and he longed to see her and sent Sherkan to fetch her.\nSo Sherkan went out to her and said, \"The king calls for thee.\"\nShe replied, \"I hear and obey;\" and he took her and brought her\nin to his father, who was seated on his throne, attended only by\nthe eunuchs, having dismissed his courtiers and officers. The\nprincess entered and kissing the ground before him, saluted him\nin choice terms. He was amazed at her fluent speech and thanked\nher for her dealing with his son Sherkan and bade her be seated.\nSo she sat down and uncovered her face, which when the king saw,\nhis reason fled and he made her draw near and showed her especial\nfavour, appointing her a palace for herself and her damsels and\nassigning them due allowances. Then he asked her of the three\njewels aforesaid, and she replied, \"O King of the age, they are\nwith me.\" So saying, she rose and going to her lodging, opened\nher baggage and brought out a box, from which she took a casket\nof gold. She opened the casket and taking out the three jewels,\nkissed them and gave them to the King and went away, taking his\nheart with her. Then the king sent for his son Sherkan and gave\nhim one of the three jewels. Sherkan enquired of the other two,\nand the King replied, \"O my son, I mean to give one to thy\nbrother Zoulmekan and the other to thy sister Nuzhet ez Zeman.\"\nWhen Sherkan heard that he had a brother (for up to that time he\nhad only known of his sister) he turned to his father and said to\nhim, \"O King, hast thou a son other than myself?\" \"Yes,\" answered\nOmar, \"and he is now six years old.\" And he told him that his\nname was Zoulmekan and that he and Nuzhet ez Zeman were twins,\nborn at a birth. This news was grievous to Sherkan, but he hid\nhis chagrin and said, \"The blessing of God the Most High be upon\nthem!\" And he threw the jewel from his hand and shook the dust\noff his clothes. Quoth his father, \"What made thee change colour,\nwhen I told thee of this, seeing that the kingdom is assured to\nthee after me? For, verily, the troops have sworn to thee and the\nAmirs and grandees have taken the oath of succession to thee; and\nthis one of the three jewels is thine.\" At this, Sherkan bowed\nhis head and was ashamed to bandy words with his father: so he\naccepted the jewel and went away, knowing not what to do for\nexcess of anger, and stayed not till he reached the princess\nAbrizeh's palace. When she saw him, she rose to meet him and\nthanked him for what he had done and called down blessings on him\nand his father. Then she sat down and made him sit by her side.\nAfter awhile, she saw anger in his face and questioned him,\nwhereupon he told her that God had vouchsafed his father two\nchildren, a boy and a girl, by Sufiyeh, and that he had named the\nboy Zoulmekan and the girl Nuzhet ez Zeman. \"He has given me one\nof the jewels,\" continued he, \"and kept the other two for them. I\nknew not of Zoulmekan's birth till this day, and he is now six\nyears old. So when I learnt this, wrath possessed me and I threw\ndown the jewel: and I tell thee the reason of my anger and hide\nnothing from thee. But I fear lest the King take thee to wife,\nfor he loves thee and I saw in him signs of desire for thee: so\nwhat wilt thou say, if he wish this?\" \"Know, O Sherkan,\" replied\nthe princess, \"that thy father has no dominion over me, nor can\nhe take me without my consent; and if he take me by force, I will\nkill myself. As for the three jewels, it was not my intent that\nhe should give them to either of his children and I had no\nthought but that he would lay them up with his things of price in\nhis treasury; but now I desire of thy favour that thou make me a\npresent of the jewel that he gave thee, if thou hast accepted\nit.\" \"I hear and obey,\" replied Sherkan and gave her the jewel.\nThen said she, \"Fear nothing,\" and talked with him awhile.\nPresently she said, \"I fear lest my father hear that I am with\nyou and sit not down with my loss, but do his endeavour to come\nat me; and to that end he may ally himself with King Afridoun and\nboth come on thee with armies and so there befall a great\nturmoil.\" \"O my lady,\" replied Sherkan, \"if it please thee to\nsojourn with us, take no thought of them, though all that be in\nthe earth and in the ocean gather themselves together against\nus!\" \"It is well,\" rejoined she; \"if ye entreat me well, I will\ntarry with you, and if ye deal evilly by me, I will depart from\nyou.\" Then she bade her maidens bring food; so they set the\ntables, and Sherkan ate a little and went away to his own house,\nanxious and troubled.\n\nMeanwhile, King Omar betook himself to the lodging of the lady\nSufiyeh, who rose to her feet, when she saw him, and stood till\nhe was seated. Presently, his two children, Zoulmekan and Nuzbet\nez Zeman, came to him, and he kissed them and hung a jewel round\neach one's neck, at which they rejoiced and kissed his hands.\nThen they went to their mother, who rejoiced in them and wished\nthe King long life; and he said to her, \"Why hast thou not told\nme, all this time, that thou art King Afridoun's daughter, that I\nmight have advanced thee and enlarged thee in dignity and used\nthee with increase of honour and consideration?\" \"O King,\"\nreplied Sufiyeh, \"what could I desire greater or more exalted\nthan this my standing with thee, overwhelmed as I am with thy\nfavours and thy goodness? And God to boot hath blessed me by thee\nwith two children, a son and a daughter.\" Her answer pleased the\nKing and he set apart for her and her children a splendid palace.\nMoreover, he appointed for their service eunuchs and attendants\nand doctors and sages and astrologers and physicians and surgeons\nand in every way redoubled in favour and munificence towards\nthem. Nevertheless, he was greatly occupied with love of the\nprincess Abrizeh and burnt with desire of her night and day; and\nevery night, he would go in to her, and talk with her and pay his\ncourt to her, but she gave him no answer, saying only, \"O King of\nthe age, I have no desire for men at this present.\" When he saw\nthat she repelled him, his passion and longing increased till, at\nlast, when he was weary of this, he called his Vizier Dendan and\nopening his heart to him, told him how love for the princess\nAbrizeh was killing him and how she refused to yield to his\nwishes and he could get nothing of her. Quoth the Vizier, \"As\nsoon as it is dark night, do thou take a piece of henbane, the\nbigness of a diner, and go in to her and drink wine with her.\nWhen the hour of leave-taking draws near, fill a last cup and\ndropping the henbane in it, give it to her to drink, and she will\nnot reach her sleeping chamber, ere the drug take effect on her.\nThen do thou go in to her and take thy will of her.\" \"Thy counsel\nis good,\" said the King, and going to his treasury, took thence a\npiece of concentrated henbane, which if an elephant smelt, he\nwould sleep from year to year. He put it in his bosom and waited\ntill some little of the night was past, when he betook himself to\nthe palace of the princess, who rose to receive him; but he bade\nher sit down. So she sat down, and he by her, and he began to\ntalk with her of drinking, whereupon she brought the table of\nwine and set it before him. Then she set on the drinking-vessels,\nand lighted the candles and called for fruits and confections and\nsweetmeats and all that pertains to drinking. So they fell to\ndrinking and ceased not to carouse, till drunkenness crept into\nthe princess's head. When the King saw this, he took out the\npiece of henbane and holding it between his fingers, filled a cup\nand drank it off; then filled another cup, into which he dropped\nthe henbane, unseen of Abrizeh, and saying, \"Thy health!\"\npresented it to her. She took it and drank it off; then rose and\nwent to her sleeping-chamber. He waited awhile, till he was\nassured that the drug had taken effect on her and gotten the\nmastery of her senses, when he went in to her and found her lying\non her back, with a lighted candle at her head and another at her\nfeet. She had put off her trousers, and the air raised the skirt\nof her shift and discovered what was between her thighs. When the\nKing saw this, he took leave of his senses for desire and Satan\ntempted him and he could not master himself, but put off his\ntrousers and fell upon her and did away her maidenhead. Then he\nwent out and said to one of her women, by name Merjaneh, \"Go in\nto thy mistress, for she calls for thee.\" So she went in to the\nprincess and found her lying on her back, with the blood running\ndown her thighs; whereupon she took a handkerchief and wiped away\nthe blood and tended her mistress and lay by her that night. As\nsoon as it was day, she washed the princess's hands and feet and\nbathed her face and mouth with rose-water, whereupon she sneezed\nand yawned and cast up the henbane. Then she revived and washed\nher hands and mouth and said to Merjaneh, \"Tell me what has\nbefallen me.\" So she told her what had passed and how she had\nfound her, lying on her back, with the blood running down her\nthighs, wherefore she knew that the King had played the traitor\nwith her and had undone her and taken his will of her. At this\nshe was afflicted and shut herself up, saying to her damsels,\n\"Let no one come in to me and say to all that I am ill, till I\nsee what God will do with me.\" The news of her illness came to\nthe King, and he sent her cordials and sherbet of sugar and\nconfections. Some months passed thus, during which time the\nKing's flame subsided and his desire for her cooled, so that he\nabstained from her. Now she had conceived by him, and in due\ntime, her pregnancy appeared and her belly swelled, wherefore the\nworld was straitened upon her and she said to her maid Merjaneh,\n\"Know that it is not the folk who have wronged me, but I who\nsinned against myself in that I left my father and mother and\ncountry. Indeed, I abhor life, for my heart is broken and I have\nneither courage nor strength left. I used, when I mounted my\nhorse, to have the mastery of him, but now I have no strength\nto ride. If I be brought to bed in this place, I shall be\ndishonoured among my women, and every one in the palace will know\nthat he has taken my maidenhead in the way of shame; and if I\nreturn to my father, with what face shall I meet him or have\nrecourse to him? How well says the poet:\n\nWherewith shall I be comforted, that am of all bereft, To whom\n     nor folk nor home nor friend nor dwelling-place is left?\"\n\nQuoth Merjaneh, \"It is for thee to command; I will obey.\" And\nAbrizeh said, \"I would fain leave this place privily, so that\nnone shall know of me but thou, and return to my father and\nmother; for when flesh stinketh, there is nought for it but its\nown folk, and God shall do with me as He will.\" \"It is well, O\nprincess,\" replied Merjaneh. So she made ready in secret and\nwaited awhile, till the King went out to hunt and Sherkan betook\nhimself to certain of the fortresses to sojourn there awhile.\nThen she said to Merjaneh, \"I wish to set out to-night, but how\nshall I do? For already I feel the pangs of labour, and if I\nabide other four or five days, I shall be brought to bed here,\nand how then can I go to my country? But this is what was written\non my forehead.\" Then she considered awhile and said, \"Look us\nout a man who will go with us and serve us by the way, for I have\nno strength to bear arms.\" \"By Allah, O my lady,\" replied\nMerjaneh, \"I know none but a black slave called Ghezban, who is\none of the slaves of King Omar ben Ennuman; he is a stout fellow\nand keeps guard at the gate of our palace. The King appointed him\nto attend us, and indeed we have overwhelmed him with favours. I\nwill go out and speak with him of the matter and promise him\nmoney and tell him that, if he have a mind to tarry with us, we\nwill marry him to whom he will. He told me before to-day that he\nhad been a highwayman; so if he consent, we shall have our desire\nand come to our own country.\" \"Call him, that I may talk with\nhim,\" said the princess. So Merjaneh went out and said to the\nslave, \"O Ghezban, God prosper thee, do thou fall in with what my\nlady says to thee.\" Then she took him by the hand and brought him\nto Abrizeh. He kissed the princess's hands and when she saw him,\nher heart took fright at him, but she said to herself, \"Necessity\nis imperious,\" and to him, \"O Ghezban, wilt thou help us against\nthe perfidies of fortune and keep my secret, if I discover it to\nthee?\" When the slave saw her, his heart was taken by storm and\nhe fell in love with her forthright, and could not choose but\nanswer, \"O my mistress, whatsoever thou biddest me do, I will not\ndepart from it.\" Quoth she, \"I would have thee take me and this\nmy maid and saddle us two camels and two of the king's horses and\nset on each horse a saddle-bag of stuff and somewhat of victual,\nand go with us to our own country; where, if thou desire to abide\nwith us, I will marry thee to her thou shalt choose of my\ndamsels; or if thou prefer to return to thine own country, we\nwill send thee thither, with as much money as will content thee.\"\nWhen Ghezban heard this, he rejoiced greatly and replied, \"O my\nlady, I will serve thee faithfully and will go at once and saddle\nthe horses.\" Then he went away, rejoicing and saying in himself,\n\"I shall get my will of them; and if they will not yield to me, I\nwill kill them and take their riches.\" But this his intent he\nkept to himself and presently returned, mounted on one horse and\nleading other two and two camels. He brought the horses to the\nprincess, who mounted one and made Merjaneh mount the other,\nalbeit she was suffering from the pains of labour and could\nscarce possess herself for anguish. Then they set out and\njourneyed night and day through the passes of the mountains, till\nthere remained but a day's journey between them and their own\ncountry, when the pangs of travail came upon Abrizeh and she\ncould no longer sit her horse. So she said to Ghezban, \"Set me\ndown, for the pains of labour are upon me,\" and cried to\nMerjaneh, saying, \"Do thou alight and sit down by me and deliver\nme.\" They both drew rein and dismounting from their horses,\nhelped the princess to alight, and she aswoon for stress of pain.\nWhen Ghezban saw her on the ground, Satan entered into him and he\ndrew his sabre and brandishing it in her face, said, \"O my lady,\nvouchsafe me thy favours.\" With this, she turned to him and said,\n\"It were a fine thing that I should yield to black slaves, after\nhaving I refused kings and princes!\" And she was wroth with him\nand said, \"What words are these? Out on thee! Do not talk thus in\nmy presence and know that I will never consent to what thou\nsayst, though I drink the cup of death. Wait till I have cast my\nburden and am delivered of the after-birth, and after, if thou be\nable thereto, do with me as thou wilt; but, an thou leave not\nlewd talk at this time, I will slay myself and leave the world\nand be at peace from all this.\" And she recited the following\nverses:\n\nO Ghezban, unhand me and let me go freer Sure, fortune is heavy\n     enough upon me.\nMy Lord hath forbidden me whoredom. \"The fire Shall be the\n     transgressor's last dwelling,\" quoth He:\nSo look not on me with the eye of desire, For surely to lewdness\n     I may not agree;\nAnd if thou respect not mine honour and God Nor put away filthy\n     behaviour from thee,\nI will call with my might on the men of my tribe And draw them\n     ail hither from upland and lea.\nWere I hewn, limb from limb, with the Yemani sword, Yet never a\n     lecher my visage should see\nOf the freeborn and mighty; so how then should I Let a whoreson\n     black slave have possession of me?\n\nWhen Ghezban heard this, he was exceeding angry; his eyes grew\nbloodshot and his face became of the colour of dust; his nostrils\nswelled, his lips protruded and the terrors of his aspect\nredoubled. And he repeated the following verses:\n\nAbrizeh, have mercy nor leave me to sigh, Who am slain by the\n     glance of thy Yemani eye![FN#19]\nMy body is wasted, my patience at end, And my heart for thy\n     cruelty racked like to die.\nThy glances with sorcery ravish all hearts; My reason is distant\n     and passion is nigh.\nThough thou drewst to thy succour the world full of troops, I'd\n     not stir till my purpose accomplished had I.\n\nThereupon Abrizeh wept sore and said to him, \"Out on thee, O\nGhezban! How darest thou demand this of me, O son of shame and\nnursling of lewdness? Dost thou think all folk are alike!\" When\nthe pestilent slave heard this, he was enraged and his eyes\nreddened: and he came up to her and smote her with the sword on\nher neck and killed her. Then he made off into the mountains,\ndriving her horse before him with the treasure. In the agonies of\ndeath, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Merjaneh took\nhim and laid him by her side, after doing him the necessary\noffices; and behold, the child fastened to its mother's breast,\nand she dead. When Merjaneh saw this, she cried out grievously\nand rent her clothes and cast dust on her head and buffeted her\ncheeks, till the blood came, saying, \"Alas, my mistress! Alas,\nthe pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black\nslave, after all thy prowess!\" As she sat weeping, there arose a\ngreat cloud of dust and darkened the plain; but, after awhile, it\nlifted and discovered a numerous army. Now this was the army of\nKing Herdoub, the princess Abrizeh's father, who, hearing that\nhis daughter had fled to Baghdad, she and her maidens, and that\nthey were with King Omar ben Ennuman, had come out with his\ntroops to seek tidings of her from travellers who might have seen\nher with King Omar at Baghdad. When he had gone a day's journey\nfrom his capital, he espied three horsemen afar off and made\ntowards them, thinking to ask whence they came and seek news of\nhis daughter. Now these three were his daughter and Merjaneh and\nGhezban; and when the latter saw the troops drawing near, he\nfeared for himself; so he killed Abrizeh and fled. When they came\nup and King Herdoub saw his daughter lying dead and Merjaneh\nweeping over her, he threw himself from his horse and fell down\nin a swoon. So all his company dismounted and pitching the tents,\nset up a great pavilion for the King, without which stood the\ngrandees of the kingdom. At the sight of her lord the King,\nMerjaneh's tears redoubled, and when he came to himself, he\nquestioned her and she told him all that had passed, how he that\nhad slain his daughter was a black slave, belonging to King Omar\nben Ennuman, and how the latter had dealt with the princess. When\nKing Herdoub heard this, the world grew black in his sight and he\nwept sore. Then he called for a litter and laying his dead\ndaughter therein, returned to Caesarea and carried her into the\npalace. Then he went in to his mother Dhat ed Dewahi and said to\nher, \"Shall the Muslims deal thus with my daughter? King Omar ben\nEnnuman despoiled her by force of her honour and after this, one\nof his black slaves slew her. By the Messiah, I will assuredly be\nrevenged for her and clear away the stain from my honour! Else I\nshall kill myself with my own hand.\" And he wept passing sore.\nQuoth his mother, \"It was none other than Merjaneh killed her,\nfor she hated her in secret. But do not thou fret for taking\nrevenge for thy daughter, for, by the virtue of the Messiah, I\nwill not turn back from King Omar ben Ennuman, till I have slain\nhim and his sons; and I will assuredly do a deed, passing the\npower of wise men and champions, of which the chroniclers shall\ntell in all countries and places: but needs must thou obey me in\nall I shall direct, for he who is firmly set on aught shall\nsurely compass his desire.\" \"By the virtue of the Messiah,\"\nreplied he, \"I will not cross thee in aught that thou shalt say!\"\nThen said she, \"Bring me a number of damsels, high-bosomed maids,\nand summon the wise men of the time and let them teach them\nphilosophy and the art of conversation and making verses and the\nrules of behaviour before kings, and let them talk with them of\nall manner of science and edifying knowledge. The sages must be\nMuslims, that they may teach the damsels the language and\ntraditions of the Arabs, together with the history of the Khalifs\nand the pedigree of the Kings of Islam; and if we persevere in\nthis for the space of four years, we shall attain our end. So\npossess thy soul in patience and wait; for, as one of the Arabs\nsays, 'It is a little thing to wait forty years for one's\nrevenge.' When we have taught the girls these things, we shall be\nable to do our will with our enemy, for he is a doting lover of\nwomen and has three hundred and threescore concubines, to which\nare now added a hundred of the flower of thy damsels, that were\nwith thy late daughter. So, as soon as we have made an end of\ntheir education, I will take them and set out with them.\" When\nthe King heard his mother's words, he rejoiced and came up to her\nand kissed her head. Then he rose at once and despatched\nmessengers and couriers to the ends of the earth, to fetch him\nMuslim sages. So they betook them to distant lands and brought\nhim thence the sages and doctors whom he sought. When they were\nbefore him, he made much of them and bestowed on them dresses of\nhonour, appointing them stipends and allowances and promising\nthem much money, whenas they should have taught the damsels. Then\nhe committed the latter to their charge, enjoining them to\ninstruct them in all manner of knowledge, sacred and profane, and\nall polite accomplishments; and they set themselves to do his\nbidding.\n\nAs for King Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned from hunting, he\nsought the princess Abrizeh, but found her not nor could any give\nhim news of her. This was grievous to him and he said, \"How did\nshe leave the palace, unknown of any? Had my kingdom been at\nstake in this, it were in a parlous case! Never again will I go\na-hunting till I have sent to the gates those who shall keep good\nguard over them!\" And he was sore vexed and heavy at heart for\nthe loss of the princess Abrizeh. Presently, his son Sherkan\nreturned from his journey; and he told him what had happened and\nhow the princess had fled, whilst he was absent a-hunting,\nwhereat he was greatly concerned. Then King Omar took to visiting\nhis children every day and making much of them and brought them\nwise men and doctors, to teach them, appointing them stipends and\nallowances. When Sherkan saw this, he was exceeding wroth and\njealous of his brother and sister, so that the signs of chagrin\nappeared in his face and he ceased not to languish by reason of\nthis, till one day his father said to him, \"What ails thee, that\nI see thee grown weak in body and pale of face?\" \"O my father,\"\nreplied Sherkan, \"every time I see thee fondle my brother and\nsister and make much of them, jealousy seizes on me, and I fear\nlest it grow on me, till I slay them and thou slay me in return.\nThis is the reason of my weakness of body and change of colour.\nBut now I crave of thy favour that thou give me one of thine\noutlying fortresses, that I may abide there the rest of my life,\nfor as the byword says, 'It is better and fitter for me to be at\na distance from my friend; for when the eye seeth not, the heart\ndoth not grieve.'\" And he bowed his head. When the King heard\nSherkan's words and knew the cause of his ailment, he soothed him\nand said to him, \"O my son, I grant thee this. I have not in my\nrealm a greater than the fortress of Damascus, and the government\nof it is thine from this time.\" So saying, he called his\nsecretaries of state and bade them make out Sherkan's patent of\ninvestiture to the viceroyalty of Damascus of Syria. Then he\nequipped Sherkan and formally invested him with the office and\ngave him his final instructions, enjoining him to policy and good\ngovernment; and the prince took leave of his father and the\ngrandees and officers of state and set out for his government,\ntaking with him the Vizier Dendan. When he arrived at Damascus,\nthe townspeople beat the drums and blew the trumpets and\ndecorated the city and came out to meet him in great state,\nwhilst all the notables and grandees walked in procession, each\naccording to his rank.\n\nSoon after Sherkan's departure, the governors of King Omar's\nchildren presented themselves before him and said to him, \"O our\nlord, thy children's education is now complete and they are\nversed in all polite accomplishments and in the rules of manners\nand etiquette.\" At this the King rejoiced with an exceeding joy\nand conferred bountiful largesse upon the wise men, seeing\nZoulmekan grown up and flourishing and skilled in horsemanship.\nThe prince had now reached the age of fourteen and occupied\nhimself with piety and devout exercises, loving the poor and wise\nmen and the students of the Koran, so that all the people of\nBaghdad loved him, men and women. One day, the procession of the\nMehmil[FN#20] of Irak passed round Baghdad, previously to the\ndeparture of the pilgrimage to the holy places[FN#21] and tomb of\nthe Prophet.[FN#22] When Zoulmekan saw the procession, he was\nseized with longing to go on the pilgrimage; so he went in to his\nfather and said to him, \"I come to ask thy leave to make the\npilgrimage.\"\n\nBut his father forbade him, saying, \"Wait till next year, and I\nwill go with thee.\" When Zoulmekan saw that the fulfilment of his\ndesire was postponed, he betook himself to his sister Nuzhet ez\nZeman, whom he found standing at prayer. As soon as she had made\nan end of her devotions, he said to her, \"I am dying of desire to\nsee the Holy House of God at Mecca and to visit the Prophet's\ntomb. I asked my father's leave, but he forbade me: so I mean to\ntake somewhat of money and set out privily on the pilgrimage,\nwithout his knowledge.\" \"I conjure thee by Allah,\" exclaimed she,\n\"to take me with thee and that thou forbid me not to visit the\ntomb of the Prophet, whom God bless and preserve!\" And he\nanswered, \"As soon as it is dark night, do thou leave this place,\nwithout telling any, and come to me.\" Accordingly, she waited\ntill the middle of the night, when she donned a man's habit and\nwent to the gate of the palace, where she found Zoulmekan with\ncamels ready harnessed. So they mounted and riding after the\ncaravan, mingled with the Irak pilgrims, and God decreed them a\nprosperous journey, so that they entered Mecca the Holy in\nsafety, standing upon Arafat and performing the various rites of\nthe pilgrimage. Then they paid a visit to the tomb of the Prophet\n(whom God bless and preserve) and thought to return with the\npilgrims to their native land; but Zoulmekan said to his sister,\n\"O my sister, it is in my mind to visit Jerusalem and the tomb of\nAbraham the friend of God (on whom be peace).\" \"I also desire to\ndo this,\" replied she. So they agreed upon this, and he went out\nand took passage for himself and her and   they made ready and\nset out with a company of pilgrims bound for Jerusalem. That very\nnight she fell sick of an ague and was grievously ill, but\npresently recovered, after which her brother also sickened. She\ntended him during the journey, but the fever increased on him and\nhe grew weaker and weaker, till they arrived at Jerusalem, where\nthey alighted at a khan and hired a lodging there. Here they\nabode some time, whilst Zoulmekan's weakness increased on him,\ntill he was wasted with sickness and became delirious. At this,\nhis sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, \"There is no\npower and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! It is\nHe who hath decreed this.\" They sojourned there awhile, his\nsickness ever increasing and she tending him, till all their\nmoney was spent and she had not so much as a dirhem left. Then\nshe sent a servant of the khan to the market, to sell some of her\nclothes, and spent the price upon her brother; and so she sold\nall she had, piece by piece, till she had nothing left but an old\nrug; whereupon she wept and exclaimed, \"God is the Orderer of the\npast and the future!\" Presently, her brother said to her, \"O my\nsister, I feel recovery drawing near and I long for a little\nroast meat.\" \"O my brother,\" replied she, \"I am ashamed to beg;\nbut tomorrow I will enter some rich man's house and serve him and\nearn somewhat for our living.\" Then she bethought herself awhile\nand said, \"It is hard to me to leave thee and thou in this state,\nbut I must perforce go.\" \"God forbid!\" rejoined he. \"Thou wilt be\nput to shame; but there is no power and no virtue but in God!\"\nAnd he wept and she wept too. Then she said, \"O my brother, we\nare strangers and this whole year have we dwelt here; yet none\nhath knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no\nresource but that I go out and earn somewhat to keep us alive,\ntill thou recover from thy sickness; when we will return to our\nnative land.\" She sat weeping with him awhile, after which she\nrose and veiling her head with a camel-cloth, which the owner had\nforgotten with them, embraced her brother and went forth, weeping\nand knowing not whither she should go. Zoulmekan abode, awaiting\nher return, till the evening; but she came not, and the night\npassed and the morning came, but still she returned not; and so\ntwo days went by. At this he was greatly troubled and his heart\nfluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left\nthe chamber and calling the servant of the inn, bade him carry\nhim to the bazaar. So he carried him to the market and laid him\ndown there; and the people of Jerusalem came round him and were\nmoved to tears at his condition. He signed to them for somewhat\nto eat; so they took money from some of the merchants and bought\nfood and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a\nshop, where they laid him on a mat of palm-leaves and set a\nvessel of water at his head. At nightfall, they all went away,\nsore concerned for him, and in the middle of the night, he called\nto mind his sister, and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he\nabstained from eating and drinking and became insensible. When\nthe people of the market saw him thus, they took thirty dirhems\nfor him from the merchants and hiring a camel, said to the\ndriver, \"Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him at the\nhospital; peradventure he may be cured and recover his health.\"\n\"On my head be it!\" replied he; but he said to himself, \"How\nshall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?\"\nSo he carried him away and hid with him till the night, when he\nthrew him down on the fuel-heap in the stoke-hole of a bath and\nwent his way. In the morning, the stoker of the bath came to his\nwork and finding Zoulmekan cast on his back on the fuel-heap,\nexclaimed, \"Could they find no other place in which to throw this\ndead man?\" So saying, he gave him a push with his foot, and he\nmoved, whereupon quoth the stoker, \"This is some one who has\neaten hashish and thrown himself down at hazard.\" Then he looked\nat him and saw that he had no hair on his face and was endowed\nwith grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that\nhe was sick and a stranger. \"There is no power and no virtue but\nin God!\" said he \"I have sinned against this youth; for indeed\nthe Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) enjoins hospitality to\nstrangers.\" Then he lifted him up and carrying him to his own\nhouse, committed him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she\nspread him a bed and laid a cushion under his head, then heated\nwater and washed his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the\nstoker went to the market and buying rose-water and sherbet of\nsugar, sprinkled Zoulmekan's face with the one and gave him to\ndrink of the other. Then he fetched a clean shirt and put it on\nhim. With this, Zoulmekan scented the breeze of recovery and life\nreturned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. At\nthis the stoker rejoiced and exclaimed, \"O my God, I beseech\nThee, by Thy hidden mysteries, make the salvation of this youth\nto be at my hands!\" And he nursed him assiduously for three days,\ngiving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow-flower water\nand rose-water and doing him all manner of service and kindness,\ntill health began to return to his body and he opened his eyes\nand sat up. Presently the stoker came in and seeing him sitting\nup and showing signs of amendment, said to him, \"How dost thou\nnow, O my son?\" \"Thanks be to God,\" replied Zoulmekan, \"I am well\nand like to recover, if so He please.\" The stoker praised the\nLord of All for this and going to the market, bought ten\nchickens, which he carried to his wife and said to her, \"Kill two\nof these for him every day, one in the morning and the other at\nnightfall.\" So she rose and killed a fowl, then boiling it,\nbrought it to him and fed him with the flesh and gave him the\nbroth to drink. When he had done eating, she brought hot water\nand he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow; whereupon\nshe covered him up and he slept till the time of afternoon-prayer.\nThen she killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut\nit up and bringing it to Zoulmekan, said, \"Eat, O my son!\"\nPresently, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat\ndown at his head and said to him, \"How is it with thee now, O my\nson?\" \"Thanks be to God for recovery!\" replied he. \"May He\nrequite thee thy goodness to me!\" At this the stoker rejoiced\nand going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose-water and made\nhim drink it. Now his day's earnings at the bath were five\ndirhems, of which he spent every day two dirhems for Zoulmekan,\none for sweet waters and sherbets and another for fowls; and he\nceased not to entreat him thus kindly for a whole month, till\nthe trace of illness ceased from him and he was quite recovered\nwhereupon the stoker and his wife rejoiced and the former\nsaid to him, \"O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?\"\n\"Willingly,\" replied he. So the stoker went to the market and\nfetched an ass, on which he mounted Zoulmekan and supported him\nin the saddle, till they came to the bath Then he made him alight\nand sit down, whilst he repaired to the market and bought\nlote-leaves and lupin-meal,[FN#23] with which he returned to the\nbath and said to Zoulmekan, \"O my son, in the name of God, enter,\nand I will wash thy body.\" So they both entered the inner room of\nthe bath, and the stoker fell to rubbing Zoulmekan's legs and was\ngoing on to wash his body with the lote-leaves and powder, when\nthere came to them a bathman, whom the keeper of the bath had\nsent to Zoulmekan, and seeing the stoker rubbing and washing the\nlatter, said to him, \"This is trespassing on the keeper's\nrights.\" \"By Allah,\" replied the stoker, \"the master overwhelms\nus with his favours!\" Then the bathman proceeded to shave\nZoulmekan's head, after which he and the stoker washed and\nreturned to the latter's house, where he clad Zoulmekan in a\nshirt of fine stuff and a tunic of his own and gave him a\nhandsome turban and girdle and wound a silken kerchief about his\nneck. Meanwhile the stoker's wife had killed two chickens and\ncooked them for him; so, as soon as Zoulmekan entered and seated\nhimself on the couch, the stoker arose and dissolving sugar in\nwillow-flower water, made him drink it. Then he brought the tray\nof food and cutting up the chickens, fed him with the meat and\nbroth, till he was satisfied, when he washed his hands and\npraised God for recovery, saying to the stoker, \"It is to thee,\nunder God the Most High, that I owe my life!\" \"Leave this talk,\"\nreplied the stoker, \"and tell us the manner of thy coming to this\ncity and whence thou art; for I see signs of gentle breeding in\nthy face.\" \"Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me,\"\nsaid Zoulmekan; \"and after I will tell thee my story.\" \"As\nfor that,\" rejoined the stoker, \"I found thee lying on the\nrubbish-heap, by the door of the stoke-house, as I went to my\nwork, near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee down\nthere. So I carried thee home with me; and this all I have to\ntell.\" Quoth Zoulmekan, \"Glory to Him who quickens the bones,\nthough they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done\ngood to one who is unworthy, and thou shalt reap the reward of\nthis. But where am I now?\" \"In the city of Jerusalem,\" replied\nthe stoker; whereupon Zoulmekan called to mind his strangerhood\nand his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered\nhis secret to the stoker and told him his story, repeating the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThey heaped up passion on my soul, beyond my strength to bear,\n     And for their sake my heart is racked with weariness and\n     care.\nAh, be ye pitiful to me, O cruel that ye are, For e'en my foes do\n     pity me, since you away did fare!\nGrudge not to grant unto mine eyes a passing glimpse of you, To\n     ease the longing of my soul and lighten my despair.\nI begged my heart to arm itself with patience for your loss.\n     \"Patience was never of my wont,\" it answered; \"so forbear.\"\n\nThen he redoubled his weeping, and the stoker said to him, \"Weep\nnot, but rather praise God for safety and recovery.\" Quoth\nZoulmekan, \"How far is it hence to Damascus?\" \"Six days'\njourney,\" answered the stoker \"Wilt thou send me thither?\" asked\nZoulmekan. \"O my lord,\" replied the stoker, \"how can I let thee\ngo alone, and thou a young lad and a stranger? If thou be minded\nto make the journey to Damascus, I will go with thee; and if my\nwife will listen to me and accompany me, I will take up my abode\nthere; for it goes to my heart to part with thee.\" Then said he\nto his wife, \"Wilt thou go with me to Damascus or wilt thou abide\nhere, whilst I bring this my lord thither and return to thee? For\nhe is bent upon, going to Damascus, and by Allah, it is hard to\nme to part with him, and I fear for him from the highway\nrobbers.\" Quoth she, \"I will go with you.\" And he said, \"Praised\nbe God for accord!\" Then he rose and selling all his own and his\nwife's gear, bought a camel and hired an ass for Zoulmekan; and\nthey set out and reached Damascus at nightfall after six days'\njourney. They alighted there, and the stoker went to the market\nand bought meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in\nDamascus, when his wife sickened and after a few days' illness,\nwas translated to the mercy of God. The stoker mourned for her\nwith an exceeding grief, and her death was no light matter to\nZoulmekan, for she had tended him assiduously and he was grown\nused to her. Presently, he turned to the stoker and finding him\nmourning, said to him, \"Do not grieve, for we must all go in at\nthis gate.\"[FN#24] \"God requite thee with good, O my son!\"\nreplied the stoker. \"Surely He will compensate us with his\nbounties and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my\nson? Shall we walk abroad to view Damascus and cheer our\nspirits?\" \"Thy will is mine,\" replied Zoulmekan. So the stoker\ntook him by the hand, and they sallied forth and walked on, till\nthey came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they\nfound camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs\nand saddle-horses and Bactrian camels and slaves, white and\nblack, and folk running to and fro and a great bustle. Quoth\nZoulmekan, \"I wonder to whom all these camels and stuffs and\nservants belong!\" So he asked one of the slaves, and he replied,\n\"These are presents that the Viceroy of Damascus is sending to\nKing Omar ben Ennuman, with the tribute of Syria.\" When Zoulmekan\nheard his father's name, his eyes filled with tears and he\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nYe that are far removed from my desireful sight, Ye that within\n     my heart are sojourners for aye,\nYour comeliness is gone and life no more for me Is sweet, nor\n     will the pains of longing pass away.\nIf God one day decree reunion of our loves, How long a tale of\n     woes my tongue will have to say!\n\nThen he wept and the stoker said to him, \"O my son, thou art\nhardly yet recovered; so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a\nrelapse for thee.\" And he applied himself to comfort him and\ncheer him, whilst Zoulmekan sighed and bemoaned his strangerhood\nand separation from his sister and his family and repeated the\nfollowing verses, with tears streaming from his eyes:\n\nProvide thee for the world to come, for needs must thou be gone;\n     Or soon or late, for every one the lot of death is drawn.\nThy fortune in this world is but delusion and regret; Thy life in\n     it but vanity and empty chaff and awn.\nThe world, indeed, is but as 'twere a traveller's halting-place,\n     Who makes his camels kneel at eve and fares on with the\n     dawn.\n\nAnd he continued to weep and lament, whilst the stoker wept too\nfor the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zoulmekan\ntill the morning. When the sun rose, he said to him, \"Meseems\nthou yearnest for thy native land?\" \"Even so,\" replied Zoulmekan,\n\"and I may not tarry here; so I will commend thee to God's care\nand set out with these people and journey with them, little by\nlittle, till I come to my country.\" \"And I with thee,\" said the\nstoker; \"for I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee\nservice, and I mean to complete it by tending thee on the way.\"\nAt this, Zoulmekan rejoiced and said, \"May God abundantly requite\nthee for me!\" Then the stoker went out and selling the camel,\nbought another ass, which he brought to Zoulmekan, saying, \"This\nis for thee to ride by the way; and when thou art weary of\nriding, thou canst dismount and walk.\" \"May God bless thee and\nhelp me to requite thee!\" said Zoulmekan. \"Indeed, thou hast\ndealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother.\" Then the\nstoker provided himself with victual for the journey, and they\nwaited till it was dark night, when they laid their provisions\nand baggage on the ass and set out on their journey.\n\nTo return to Nuzhet ez Zeman, when she left her brother in the\nkhan and went out to seek service with some one, that she might\nearn wherewith to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared\non, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was\noccupied with concern for her brother and with thoughts of her\nfamily and her native land. And she implored God the Most High to\ndo away these afflictions from them and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nThe shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain, And\n     longing rouses within me the old desireful pain.\nThe anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast, And\n     love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain.\nPassion hath made me restless and longing consumes my soul And\n     tears discover the secret that else concealed had lain.\nI know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe, Nor can\n     my weak endeavour reknit love's severed skein.\nThe fire of my heart with yearnings and longing grief is fed And\n     for its heat, the lover to live in hell is fain.\nO thou that thinkest to blame me for what betides me, enough; God\n     knows I suffer with patience whate'er He doth ordain.\nI swear I shall ne'er find solace nor be consoled for love, The\n     oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are ne'er in\n     vain!\nBear tidings of me, I prithee, O night, to the bards of love And\n     that in thee I sleep not be witness yet again!\n\nShe walked on, weeping and turning right and left, as she went,\ntill there espied her an old man who had come into the town from\nthe desert with other five Bedouins. He took note of her and\nseeing that she was charming, but had nothing on her head but a\npiece of camel-cloth, marvelled at her beauty and said in\nhimself, \"This girl is pretty enough to dazzle the wit, but it is\nclear she is in poor case, and whether she be of the people of\nthe city or a stranger, I must have her.\" So he followed her,\nlittle by little, till presently he came in front of her and\nstopping the way before her in a narrow lane, called out to her,\nsaying, \"Harkye, daughterling, art thou a freewoman or a slave?\"\nWhen she heard this, she said to him, \"By thy life, do not add to\nmy troubles! \"Quoth he, \"God blessed me with six daughters, but\nfive of them died and only one is left me, the youngest of them\nall; and I came to ask thee if thou wert of the people of this\ncity or a stranger, that I might take thee and carry thee to her,\nto bear her company and divert her from mourning for her sisters,\nIf thou hast no parents, I will use thee as one of them, and thou\nand she shall be as my two children.\" When she heard what he\nsaid, she bowed her head for bashfulness and said to herself,\n\"Surely I may trust myself to this old man.\" Then she said to\nhim, \"O uncle, I am a girl of the Arabs (of Irak) and a stranger,\nand I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy\ndaughter on one condition; that is, that I may spend the day only\nwith her and go to my brother at night. I am a stranger and was\nhigh in honour among my people, yet am I become cast down and\nabject. I came with my brother from the land of Hejaz and I fear\nlest he know not where I am.\" When the Bedouin heard this, he\nsaid to himself, \"By Allah, I have gotten what I sought!\" Then he\nturned to her and said, \"There shall none be dearer to me than\nthou; I only wish thee to bear my daughter company by day, and\nthou shalt go to thy brother at nightfall. Or, if thou wilt,\nbring him to dwell with us.\" And he ceased not to give her fair\nwords and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve\nhim. Then he went on before her and she followed him, whilst he\nwinked to his men to go on in advance and harness the camels and\nload them with food and water, ready for setting out as soon as\nhe should come up. Now this Bedouin was a base-born wretch, a\nhighway-robber and a brigand, a traitor to his friend and a past\nmaster in craft and roguery. He had no daughter and no son, and\nwas but a wayfarer in Jerusalem, when, by the decree of God, he\nfell in with this unhappy girl. He held her in converse till they\ncame without the city, where he joined his companions and found\nthey had made ready the camels. So he mounted a camel, taking\nNuzhet ez Zeman up behind him, and they rode on all night, making\nfor the mountains, for fear any should see them. By this, she\nknew that the Bedouin's proposal was a snare and that he had\ntricked her; and she gave not over weeping and crying out the\nwhole night long. A little before the dawn, they halted and the\nBedouin came up to Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, \"O wretch,\nwhat is this weeping! By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I\nwill beat thee to death, city faggot that thou art!\" When she\nheard this, she abhorred life and longed for death; so she turned\nto him and said, \"O accursed old man, O greybeard of hell, did I\ntrust in thee and hast thou played me false, and now thou wouldst\ntorture me?\" When he heard her words, he cried out, \"O insolent\nwretch, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?\" And he came up to\nher and beat her with a whip, saying, \"An thou hold not thy\npeace, I will kill thee.\" So she was silent awhile, but she\ncalled to mind her brother and her former happy estate and wept\nin secret. Next day, she turned to the Bedouin and said to him,\n\"How couldst thou deal thus perfidiously with me and lure me into\nthese desert mountains, and what wilt thou do with me?\" When he\nheard her words, he hardened his heart and said to her, \"O\npestilent baggage, wilt thou bandy words with me?\" So saying, he\ntook the whip and brought it down on her back, till she well-nigh\nfainted. Then she bowed down and kissed his feet; and he left\nbeating her and began to revile her, saying, \"By my bonnet, if I\nsee or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and thrust it\nup thy kaze, city strumpet that thou art!\" So she was silent and\nmade him no reply, for the beating irked her; but sat down, with\nher arms round her knees and bowing her head, fell a-musing on\nher case. Then she bethought her of her former ease and affluence\nand her present abasement, and called to mind her brother and his\nsickness and forlorn condition and how they were both strangers\nin a foreign land; whereat the tears coursed down her cheeks and\nshe wept silently and repeated the following verses:\n\nThe tides of fate 'twixt good and ill shift ever to and fro, And\n     no estate of life for men endureth evermo'.\nAll things that to the world belong have each their destined end\n     And to all men a term is set, which none may overgo.\nHow long must I oppression bear and peril and distress! Ah, how I\n     loathe this life of mine, that nought but these can show!\nMay God not prosper them, these days, wherein I am oppressed of\n     Fate, these cruel days that add abjection to my woe!\nMy purposes are brought to nought, my loves are reft in twain By\n     exile's rigour, and my hopes are one and all laid low.\nO ye, who pass the dwelling by, wherein my dear ones are, Bear\n     them the news of me and say, my tears for ever flow.\n\nWhen she had finished, the Bedouin came up to her and taking\ncompassion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears.\nThen he gave her a cake of barley-bread and said to her, \"I do\nnot love to be answered, when I am angry: so henceforth give me\nno more of these insolent words, and I will sell thee to an\nhonest fellow like myself, who will use thee well, even as I have\ndone.\" \"It is well,\" answered she; and when the night was long\nupon her and hunger gnawed her, she ate a little of the\nbarley-cake. In the middle of the night, the Bedouin gave the\nsignal for departure; so they loaded the camels and he mounted\none of them, taking Nuzhet ez Zeman up behind him. Then they set\nout and journeyed, without stopping, for three days, till they\nreached the city of Damascus, where they alighted at the Sultan's\nkhan, hard by the Viceroy's Gate. Now she had lost her colour and\nher charms were changed by grief and the fatigue of the journey,\nand she ceased not to weep. So the Bedouin came up to her and\nsaid, \"Hark ye, city wench! By my bonnet, an thou leave not this\nweeping, I will sell thee to a Jew!\" Then he took her by the hand\nand carried her to a chamber, where he left her and went to the\nbazaar. Here he went round to the merchants who dealt in\nslave-girls and began to parley with them, saying, \"I have with\nme a slave-girl, whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my\npeople at Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he was cured.\nThe separation from him was grievous to her, and since then, she\ndoes nothing but weep. Now I purpose to sell her, and I would\nfain have whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her\nand say to her, 'Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem, ill;' and I\nwill be easy with him about her price.\" Quoth one of the\nmerchants, \"How old is she?\" \"She is a virgin, just come to the\nage of puberty,\" replied the Bedouin, \"and is endowed with sense\nand breeding and wit and beauty and grace. But from the day I\nsent her brother to Jerusalem, she has done nothing but grieve\nfor him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value\nlessened.\" When the merchant heard this, he said, \"O chief of the\nArabs, I will go with thee and buy this girl of thee, if she be\nas thou sayest for wit and beauty and accomplishments; but it\nmust be upon conditions, which if thou accept, I will pay thee\nher price, and if not, I will return her to thee.\" \"If thou\nwilt,\" said the Bedouin, \"take her up to Prince Sherkan, son of\nKing Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and of the land of\nKhorassan, and I will agree to whatever conditions thou mayst\nimpose on me; for when he sees her, she will surely please him,\nand he will pay thee her price and a good profit to boot for\nthyself.\" \"It happens,\" rejoined the merchant, \"that I have just\nnow occasion to go to him, that I may get him to sign me patent,\nexempting me from customs-dues, and I desire of him also a letter\nof recommendation to his father King Omar. So, if he take the\ngirl, I will pay thee down her price at once.\" \"I agree to this,\"\nanswered the Bedouin. So they returned together to the khan,\nwhere the Bedouin stood at the door of the girl's chamber and\ncalled out, saying, \"Ho, Najiyeh!\" which was the name he had\ngiven her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then\nhe turned to the merchant and said to him, \"There she sits. Do\nthou go up to her and look at her and speak kindly to her, as I\nenjoined thee.\" So he went up to her courteously and saw that she\nwas wonder-lovely and graceful especially as she was acquainted\nwith the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Bedouin, \"Verily she\nis even as thou saidst, and I shall get of the Sultan what I will\nfor her.\" Then he said to her, \"Peace be on thee, O daughterling!\nHow dost thou?\" She turned to him and replied, \"This was written\nin the book of Destiny.\" Then she looked at him and seeing him to\nbe a man of reverend appearance, with a handsome face, said to\nherself, \"I believe this man comes to buy me. If I hold aloof\nfrom him, I shall abide with this tyrant, and he will beat me to\ndeath. In any case, this man is comely of face and makes me hope\nfor better treatment from him than from this brute of a Bedouin.\nMayhap he only comes to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair\nanswer.\" All this while, she had kept her eyes fixed on the\nground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice,\n\"And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and the mercy of God and His\nblessing! This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom God\nbless and preserve! As for thine enquiry how I do, if thou\nwouldst know my condition, it is such as thou wouldst not wish\nbut to thine enemies.\" And she was silent. When the merchant\nheard what she said, he was beside himself for delight in her and\nturning to the Bedouin, said to him, \"What is her price, for\nindeed she is illustrious!\" At this the Bedouin was angry and\nsaid, \"Thou wilt turn me the girl's head with this talk! Why dost\nthou say that she is illustrious,[FN#25] for all she is of the\nscum of slave-girls and of the refuse of the people? I will not\nsell her to thee.\" When the merchant heard this, he knew he was\ndull-witted and said to him, \"Calm thyself, for I will buy her of\nthee, notwithstanding the defects thou mentionest.\" \"And how much\nwilt thou give me for her?\" asked the Bedouin \"None should name\nthe child but its father,\" replied the merchant. \"Name thy price\nfor her.\" \"Not so,\" rejoined the Bedouin; \"do thou say what thou\nwilt give.\" Quoth the merchant in himself, \"This Bedouin is an\naddle-pated churl. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she has\nmastered my heart with her sweet speech and her beauty: and if\nshe can read and write, it will be the finishing touch to her\ngood fortune and that of her purchaser. But this Bedouin does not\nknow her value.\" Then he turned to the latter and said to him, \"O\nelder of the Arabs, I will give thee two hundred dinars for her,\nin cash, clear of the tax and the Sultan's dues.\" When the\nBedouin heard this, he flew into a violent passion and cried out\nat the merchant, saying, \"Begone about thy business! By Allah,\nwert thou to offer me two hundred dinars for the piece of\ncamel-cloth on her head, I would not sell it to thee! I will not\nsell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and\ngrind corn.\" And he cried out to her, saying, \"Come, thou\nstinkard, I will not sell thee.\" Then he turned to the merchant\nand said to him, \"I thought thee a man of judgment; but, by my\nbonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what\nwill not please thee!\" \"Verily,\" said the merchant to himself,\n\"this Bedouin is mad and knows not the girl's value, and I will\nsay no more to him about her price for the present; for by Allah,\nwere he a man of sense, he would not say, 'By my bonnet!' By\nAllah, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroes and I will give\nhim what he will, though it be all I have.\" Then he said to him,\n\"O elder of the Arabs, calm thyself and take patience and tell me\nwhat clothes she has with thee.\" \"Clothes!\" cried the Bedouin;\n\"what should the baggage want with clothes? The camel-cloth in\nwhich she is wrapped is ample for her.\" \"With thy leave,\" said\nthe merchant, \"I will lift her veil and examine her as folk\nexamine girls whom they think of buying.\" \"Up and do what thou\nwilt,\" replied the other, \"and God keep thy youth! Examine her,\ninside and out, and if thou wilt, take off her clothes and look\nat her naked.\" \"God forbid!\" said the merchant; \"I will but look\nat her face.\" Then he went up to her, confounded at her beauty\nand grace, and seating himself by her side, said to her, \"O my\nmistress, what is thy name?\" \"Dost thou ask what is my name now,\"\nsaid she, \"or what it was formerly?\" \"Hast thou then two names?\"\nasked the merchant. \"Yes,\" replied she, \"my whilom name was\nNuzhet ez Zeman;[FN#26] but my name at this present is Ghusset ez\nZeman.\"[FN#27] When the merchant heard this, his eyes filled with\ntears, and he said to her, \"Hast thou not a sick brother?\"\n\"Indeed, my lord, I have,\" answered she; \"but fortune hath parted\nus, and he lies sick in Jerusalem.\" The merchant's heart was\nconfounded at the sweetness of her speech, and he said to\nhimself, \"Verily, the Bedouin spoke the truth of her.\" Then she\ncalled to mind her brother and how he lay sick in a strange land,\nwhilst she was parted from him and knew not what was become of\nhim; and she thought of all that had befallen her with the\nBedouin and of her severance from her father and mother and\nnative land; and the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nMay God keep watch o'er thee, belov'd, where'er thou art, Thou\n     that, though far away, yet dwellest in my heart!\nWhere'er thy footsteps lead, may He be ever near, To guard thee\n     from time's shifts and evil fortune's dart!\nThou'rt absent, and my eyes long ever for thy sight, And at thy\n     thought the tears for aye unbidden start.\nWould that I knew alas! what country holds thee now, In what\n     abode thou dwell'st, unfriended and apart!\nIf thou, in the green o the rose, still drink o' the water of\n     life, My drink is nought but tears, since that thou didst\n     depart.\nIf sleep e'er visit thee, live coals of my unrest, Strewn betwixt\n     couch and side, for aye my slumbers thwart\nAll but thy loss to me were but a little thing, But that and that\n     alone is sore to me, sweetheart.\n\nWhen the merchant heard her verses, he wept and put out his hand\nto wipe away her tears; but she let down her veil, saying, \"God\nforbid, O my master!\" The Bedouin, who was sitting at a little\ndistance, watching them, saw her cover her face and concluded\nthat she would have hindered him from handling her: so he rose\nand running to her, dealt her such a blow on the shoulders with a\ncamel's halter he had in his hand, that she fell to the ground on\nher face. Her eyebrow smote against a stone, which cut it open,\nand the blood streamed down her face; whereupon she gave a loud\nscream and fainted away. The merchant was moved to tears for her\nand said in himself, \"I must and will buy this damsel, though I\npay down her weight in gold, and deliver her from this tyrant.\"\nAnd he began to reproach the Bedouin, whilst Nuzhet ez Zeman lay\ninsensible. When she came to herself, she wiped away her tears\nand bound up her head: then, raising her eyes to heaven, she\nsought her Lord with a sorrowful heart and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nHave ruth on one who once was rich and great, Whom villainy hath\n     brought to low estate.\nShe weeps with never-ceasing tears and says, \"There's no recourse\n     against the laws of Fate.\"\n\nThen she turned to the merchant and said to him, in a low voice,\n\"By Allah, do not leave me with this tyrant, who knows not God\nthe Most High! If I pass this night with him, I shall kill myself\nwith my own hand: save me from him, and God will save thee from\nhell-fire.\" So the merchant said to the Bedouin, \"O chief of the\nArabs, this girl is none of thine affair; so do thou sell her to\nme for what thou wilt.\" \"Take her,\" said the Bedouin, \"and pay me\ndown her price, or I will carry her back to the camp and set her\nto feed the camels and gather their droppings.\"[FN#28] Quoth the\nmerchant, \"I will give thee fifty thousand dinars for her.\" \"God\nwill open,\"[FN#29] replied the Bedouin. \"Seventy thousand,\" said\nthe merchant. \"God will open,\" repeated the other; \"she hath cost\nme more than that, for she hath eaten barley-bread with me to the\nvalue of ninety thousand dinars.\" Quoth the merchant, \"Thou and\nall thy people and thy whole tribe in all your lives have not\neaten a thousand dinars' worth of barley: but I will make thee\none offer, which if thou accept not, I will set the Viceroy of\nDamascus on thee, and he will take her from thee by force.\" \"Say\non,\" rejoined the Bedouin. \"A hundred thousand,\" said the\nmerchant. \"I will sell her to thee at that price,\" answered the\nBedouin; \"I shall be able to buy salt with that.\" The merchant\nlaughed and going to his house, returned with the money and gave\nit to the Bedouin, who took it and made off, saying, \"I must go\nto Jerusalem: it may be I shall happen on her brother, and I will\nbring him here and sell him.\" So he mounted and journeyed to\nJerusalem, where he went to the khan and enquired for Zoulmekan,\nbut could not find him.\n\nMeanwhile, the merchant threw his gaberdine over Nuzhet ez Zeman\nand carried her to his house, where he dressed her in the richest\nclothes he could buy. Then he carried her to the bazaar, where he\nbought her what jewellery she chose and put it in a bag of satin,\nwhich he laid before her, saying, \"This is all for thee, and I\nask nothing of thee in return but that, when thou comest to the\nViceroy of Damascus, thou tell him what I gave for thee and that\nit was little compared with thy value: and if he buy thee, tell\nhim how I have dealt with thee and ask of him for me a royal\npatent, with a recommendation to his father King Omar Ben\nEnnuman, lord of Baghdad, to the intent that he may forbid the\ntaking toll on my stuffs or other goods in which I traffic.\" When\nshe heard his words, she wept and sobbed, and the merchant said\nto her, \"O my mistress, I note that, every time I mention\nBaghdad, thine eyes fill with tears: is there any one there whom\nthou lovest? If it be a merchant or the like, tell me; for I know\nall the merchants and so forth there; and an thou wouldst send\nhim a message, I will carry it for thee.\" \"By Allah,\" replied\nshe, \"I have no acquaintance among merchants and the like! I know\nnone there but King Omar ben Ennuman.\" When the merchant heard\nthis, he laughed and was greatly rejoiced and said in himself,\n\"By Allah, I have gotten my desire!\" Then he said to her, \"Hast\nthou then been shown to him?\" \"No,\" answered she; \"but I was\nbrought up with his daughter and he holds me dear and I have much\ncredit with him; so if thou wouldst have him grant thee a patent\nof exemption, give me ink-horn and paper, and I will write thee a\nletter, which, when thou reachest Baghdad, do thou deliver into\nthe King's own hand and say to him, 'Thy handmaid Nuzhet ez Zeman\nsalutes thee and would have thee to know that the changing\nchances of the nights and days have smitten her, so that she has\nbeen sold from place to place and is now with the Viceroy of\nDamascus.'\" The merchant wondered at her eloquence and his\naffection for her increased and he said to her, \"I cannot think\nbut that men have abused thine understanding and sold thee for\nmoney. Tell me, dost thou know the Koran?\" \"I do,\" answered she;\n\"and I am also acquainted with philosophy and medicine and the\nProlegomena and the commentaries of Galen the physician on the\nCanons of Hippocrates, and I have commented him, as well as the\nSimples of Ibn Beltar, and have studied the works of Avicenna,\naccording to the canon of Mecca, as well as other treatises. I\ncan solve enigmas and establish parallels[FN#30] and discourse\nupon geometry and am skilled in anatomy. I have read the books of\nthe Shafiyi[FN#31] sect and the Traditions of the Prophet, I am\nwell read in grammar and can argue with the learned and discourse\nof all manner of sciences. Moreover I am skilled in logic and\nrhetoric and mathematics and the making of talismans and\ncalendars and the Cabala, and I understand all these branches of\nknowledge thoroughly. But bring me ink-horn and paper, and I will\nwrite thee a letter that will profit thee at Baghdad and enable\nthee to dispense with passports.\" When the merchant heard this,\nhe cried out, \"Excellent! Excellent! Happy he in whose palace\nthou shalt be!\" Then he brought her ink-horn and paper and a pen\nof brass and kissed the earth before her, to do her honour. She\ntook the pen and wrote the following verses:\n\n\"What ails me that sleep hath forsaken my eyes and gone astray?\n     Have you then taught them to waken, after our parting day!\nHow comes it your memory maketh the fire in my heart to rage?\n     Is't thus with each lover remembers a dear one far away?\nHow sweet was the cloud of the summer, that watered our days of\n     yore! 'Tis flitted, before of its pleasance my longing I\n     could stay.\nI sue to the wind and beg it to favour the slave of love, The\n     wind that unto the lover doth news of you convey.\nA lover to you complaineth, whose every helper fails. Indeed, in\n     parting are sorrows would rend the rock in sway.\n\n\"These words are from her whom melancholy destroys and whom\nwatching hath wasted; in her darkness there are no lights found,\nand she knows not night from day. She tosses from side to side on\nthe couch of separation and her eyes are blackened with the\npencils of sleeplessness; she watches the stars and strains her\nsight into the darkness: verily, sadness and emaciation have\nconsumed her and the setting forth of her case would be long. No\nhelper hath she but tears and she reciteth the following verses:\n\n\"No turtle warbles on the branch, before the break of morn, But\n     stirs in me a killing grief, a sadness all forlorn.\nNo lover, longing for his loves, complaineth of desire, But with\n     a doubled stress of woe my heart is overborne.\nOf passion I complain to one who hath no ruth on me. How soul and\n     body by desire are, one from other, torn!\"\n\nThen her eyes brimmed over with tears, and she wrote these verses\nalso:\n\n\"Love-longing, the day of our parting, my body with mourning\n     smote, And severance from my eyelids hath made sleep far\n     remote.\nI am so wasted for yearning and worn for sickness and woe, That,\n     were it not for my speaking, thou'dst scarce my presence\n     note.\"\n\nThen she wept and wrote at the foot of the scroll, \"This is from\nher who is far from her people and her native land, the\nsorrowful-hearted Nuzhet ez Zeman.\" She folded the letter and\ngave it to the merchant, who took it and reading what was written\nin it, rejoiced and exclaimed, \"Glory to Him who fashioned thee!\"\nThen he redoubled in kindness and attention to her all that day;\nand at nightfall, he sallied out to the market and bought food,\nwherewith he fed her; after which he carried her to the bath and\nsaid to the tire-woman, \"As soon as thou hast made an end of\nwashing her head, clothe her and send and let me know.' Meanwhile\nhe fetched food and fruit and wax candles and set them on the\ndais in the outer room of the bath; and when the tire-woman had\ndone washing her, she sent to tell the merchant, and Nuzhet ez\nZeman went out to the outer room, where she found the tray spread\nwith food and fruit. So she ate, and the tire-woman with her, and\ngave what was left to the people and keeper of the bath. Then she\nslept till the morning, and the merchant lay the night in a place\napart. When he awoke, he came to her and waking her, presented\nher with a shift of fine silk, a kerchief worth a thousand\ndinars, a suit of Turkish brocade and boots embroidered with red\ngold and set with pearls and jewels. Moreover, he hung in each of\nher ears a circlet of gold, with a fine pearl therein, worth a\nthousand dinars, and threw round her neck a collar of gold, with\nbosses of garnet and a chain of amber beads, that hung down\nbetween her breasts to her middle. Now this chain was garnished\nwith ten balls and nine crescents and each crescent had in its\nmidst a beazel of ruby and each ball a beazel of balass ruby. The\nworth of the chain was three thousand dinars and each of the\nballs was worth twenty thousand dirhems, so that her dress in all\nwas worth a great sum of money. When she had put these on, the\nmerchant bade her make her toilet, and she adorned herself to the\nutmost advantage. Then he bade her follow him and walked on\nbefore her through the streets, whilst the people wondered at her\nbeauty and exclaimed, \"Blessed be God, the most excellent\nCreator! O fortunate man to whom she shall belong!\" till they\nreached the Sultan's palace; when he sought an audience of\nSherkan and kissing the earth before him, said, \"O august King, I\nhave brought thee a rare gift, unmatched in this time and richly\ncovered with beauty and good qualities.\" \"Let me see it,\" said\nSherkan. So the merchant went out and returning with Nuzhet ez\nZeman, made her stand before Sherkan. When the latter beheld her,\nblood drew to blood, though he had never seen her, having only\nheard that he had a sister called Nuzhet ez Zeman and a brother\ncalled Zoulmekan and not having made acquaintance with them, in\nhis jealousy of them, because of the succession. Then said the\nmerchant, \"O King, not only is she without peer in her time for\nperfection of beauty and grace, but she is versed to boot in all\nlearning, sacred and profane, besides the art of government and\nthe abstract sciences.\" Quoth Sherkan, \"Take her price, according\nto what thou gavest for her, and go thy ways.\" \"I hear and obey,\"\nreplied the merchant; \"but first I would have thee write me\na patent, exempting me for ever from paying tithe on my\nmerchandise.\" \"I will do this,\" said Sherkan; \"but first tell me\nwhat you paid for her.\" Quoth the merchant, \"I bought her for a\nhundred thousand dinars, and her clothes cost me as much more.\"\nWhen the Sultan heard this, he said, \"I will give thee more than\nthis for her,\" and calling his treasurer, said to him, \"Give this\nmerchant three hundred and twenty thousand dinars; so will he\nhave a hundred and twenty thousand dinars profit.\" Then he\nsummoned the four Cadis and paid him the money in their presence;\nafter which he said to them, \"I call you to witness that I free\nthis my slave-girl and purpose to marry her.\" So the Cadis drew\nup the act of enfranchisement, and the Sultan scattered much gold\non the heads of those present, which was picked up by the pages\nand eunuchs. Then they drew up the contract of marriage between\nSherkan and Nuzhet ez Zeman, after which he bade write the\nmerchant a perpetual patent, exempting him from tax and tithe\nupon his merchandise and forbidding all and several to do him let\nor hindrance in all his government, and bestowed on him a\nsplendid dress of honour. Then all who were present retired, and\nthere remained but the Cadis and the merchant; whereupon quoth\nSherkan to the former, \"I wish you to hear such discourse from\nthis damsel as may prove her knowledge and accomplishment in all\nthat this merchant avouches of her, that we may be certified of\nthe truth of his pretensions.\" \"Good,\" answered they; and he\ncommanded the curtains to be drawn before Nuzhet ez Zeman and her\nattendants, who began to wish her joy and kiss her hands and\nfeet, for that she was become the Viceroy's wife. Then they came\nround her and easing her of the weight of her clothes and\nornaments, began to look upon her beauty and grace. Presently the\nwives of the Amirs and Viziers heard that King Sherkan had bought\na damsel unmatched for beauty and accomplishments and versed in\nall branches of knowledge, at the price of three hundred and\ntwenty thousand dinars, and that he had set her free and married\nher and summoned the four Cadis to examine her. So they asked\nleave of their husbands and repaired to the palace. When they\ncame in to her, she rose and received them with courtesy,\nwelcoming them and promising them all good. Moreover, she smiled\nin their faces and made them sit down in their proper stations,\nas if she had been brought up with them, so that their hearts\nwere taken with her and they all wondered at her good sense and\nfine manners, as well as at her beauty and grace, and said to\neach other, \"This damsel is none other than a queen, the daughter\nof a king.\" Then they sat down, magnifying her, and said to her,\n\"O our lady, our city is illumined by thy presence, and our\ncountry and kingdom are honoured by thee. The kingdom indeed is\nthine and the palace is thy palace, and we all are thy handmaids;\nso do not thou shut us out from thy favours and the sight of thy\nbeauty.\" And she thanked them for this. All this while the\ncurtains were drawn between Nuzhet ez Zeman and the women with\nher, on the one side, and King Sherkan and the Cadis and merchant\nseated by him, on the other. Presently, Sherkan called to her and\nsaid, \"O queen, the glory of thine age, this merchant describes\nthee as being learned and accomplished and asserts that thou art\nskilled in all branches of knowledge, even to astrology: so let\nus hear something of all this and give us a taste of thy\nquality.\"\n\n\"O King,\" replied she, \"I hear and obey. The first subject of\nwhich I will treat is the art of government and the duties of\nkings and what behoves governors of lawful commandments and what\nis incumbent on them in respect of pleasing manners. Know then, O\nKing, that all men's works tend either to religion or to worldly\nlife, for none attains to religion save through this world,\nbecause it is indeed the road to the next world. Now the world is\nordered by the doings of its people, and the doings of men\nare divided into four categories, government (or the exercise\nof authority), commerce, husbandry (or agriculture) and\ncraftsmanship. To government are requisite perfect (knowledge of\nthe science of) administration and just judgment; for government\nis the centre (or pivot) of the edifice of the world, which is\nthe road to the future life since that God the Most High hath\nmade the world to be to His servants even as victual to the\ntraveller for the attainment of the goal: and it is needful that\neach man receive of it such measure as shall bring him to God,\nand that he follow not in this his own mind and desire. If the\nfolk would take of the goods of the world with moderation and\nequity, there would be an end of contentions; but they take\nthereof with violence and iniquity and persist in following their\nown inclinations; and their licentiousness and evil behaviour in\nthis give birth to strife and contention. So they have need of\nthe Sultan, that he may do justice between them and order their\naffairs prudently, and if he restrain not the folk from one\nanother, the strong will get the mastery over the weak. Ardeshir\nsays that religion and the kingship are twin; religion is a\ntreasure and the king its keeper; and the divine ordinances and\nmen's own judgment indicate that it behoves the folk to adopt a\nruler to hold the oppressor back from the oppressed and do the\nweak justice against the strong and to restrain the violence of\nthe proud and the unjust. For know, O King, that according to the\nmeasure of the ruler's good morals, even so will be the time; as\nsays the apostle of God (on whom be peace and salvation), 'There\nare two classes, who if they be virtuous, the people will be\nvirtuous, and if they be depraved, the people also will be\ndepraved: even princes and men of learning.' And it is said by a\ncertain sage, 'There are three kinds of kings, the king of the\nFaith, the king who watches over and protects those things that\nare entitled to respect and honour, and the king of his own\ninclinations. The king of the Faith constrains his subjects to\nfollow the laws of their faith, and it behoves that he be the\nmost pious of them all, for it is by him that they take pattern\nin the things of the Faith; and the folk shall do obedience to\nhim in what he commands in accordance with the Divine ordinances;\nbut he shall hold the discontented in the same esteem as the\ncontented, because of submission to the Divine decrees. As for\nthe king of the second order, he upholds the things of the Faith\nand of the world and compels the folk to follow the Law of God\nand to observe the precepts of humanity; and it behoves him to\nconjoin the sword and the pen; for whoso goeth astray from what\nthe pen hath written, his feet slip, and the king shall rectify\nhis error with the edge of the sword and pour forth his justice\nupon all men. As for the third kind of king, he hath no religion\nbut the following his own lusts and fears not the wrath of his\nLord, who set him on the throne; so his kingdom inclines to ruin,\nand the end of his arrogance is in the House of Perdition.' And\nanother sage says, 'The king has need of many people, but the\nfolk have need of but one king; wherefore it behoves that he be\nwell acquainted with their natures, to the end that he may reduce\ntheir difference to concord, that he may encompass them one and\nall with his justice and overwhelm them with his bounties.' And\nknow, O King, that Ardeshir, styled Jemr Shedid, third of the\nKings of Persia, conquered the whole world and divided it into\nfour parts and let make for himself four seal-rings, one for each\ndivision of his realm. The first seal was that of the sea and the\npolice and of prohibition, and on it was written, 'Alternatives.'\nThe second was the seal of revenue and of the receipt of monies,\nand on it was written, 'Culture.' The third was the seal of the\ncommissariat, and on it was written, 'Plenty.' The fourth was the\nseal of (the Court of Enquiry into) abuses, and on it was\nwritten, 'Justice.' And these remained in use in Persia until the\nrevelation of Islam. King Chosroes also, wrote to his son, who\nwas with the army, 'Be not over-lavish to thy troops, or they\nwill come to have no need of thee; neither be niggardly with\nthem, or they will murmur against thee. Do thy giving soberly and\nconfer thy favours advisedly; be liberal to them in time of\naffluence and stint them not in time of stress.' It is said that\nan Arab of the desert came once to the Khalif Mensour[FN#32] and\nsaid to him, 'Starve thy dog and he will follow thee.' When the\nKhalif heard his words, he was enraged, but Aboulabbas et Tousi\nsaid to him, 'I fear that, if some other than thou should show\nhim a cake of bread, the dog would follow him and leave thee.'\nThereupon the Khalif's wrath subsided and he knew that the\nBedouin had meant no offence and ordered him a present. And know,\nO King, that Abdulmelik ben Merwan wrote to his brother\nAbdulaziz, when he sent him to Egypt, as follows: 'Pay heed to\nthy secretaries and thy chamberlains, for the first will acquaint\nthee with necessary matters and the second with matters of\netiquette and ceremonial observance, whilst the tribute that goes\nout from thee will make thy troops known to thee.' Omar ben el\nKhettab[FN#33] (whom God accept) was in the habit, when he\nengaged a servant, of laying four conditions on him, the first\nthat he should not ride the baggage-beasts, the second that he\nshould not wear fine clothes, the third that he should not eat of\nthe spoil and the fourth that he should not delay to pray after\nthe proper time. It is said that there is no wealth better than\nunderstanding and no understanding like common sense and prudence\nand no prudence like the fear of God; that there is no offering\nlike good morals and no measure like good breeding and no profit\nlike earning the Divine favour;[FN#34] that there is no piety\nlike the observance of the limits of the Law and no science like\nthat of meditation, no devotion like the performance of the\nDivine precepts, no safeguard like modesty, no calculation like\nhumility and no nobility like knowledge. So guard the head and\nwhat it contains and the body and what it comprises and remember\ndeath and calamity. Says Ali[FN#35], (whose face God honour!),\n'Beware of the wickedness of women and be on thy guard against\nthem. Consult them not in aught, but be not grudging of\ncomplaisance to them, lest they be tempted to have recourse to\nintrigue.' And also, 'He who leaves the path of moderation and\nsobriety, his wits become perplexed.' And Omar (whom God accept)\nsays, 'There are three kinds of women, first, the true-believing,\nGod-fearing woman, loving and fruitful, helping her husband\nagainst fate, not helping fate against her husband; secondly, she\nwho loves and tenders her children, but no more; and thirdly, the\nwoman who is as a shackle that God puts on the neck of whom He\nwill. Men also are three: the first, who is wise, when he\nexercises his judgment; the second, wiser than he, who, when\nthere falls on him somewhat of which he knows not the issue,\nseeks folk of good counsel and acts by their advice; and the\nthird, who is addle-headed, knowing not the right way nor heeding\nthose who would instruct him.' Justice is indispensable in all\nthings; even slave-girls have need of justice; and highway\nrobbers, who live by violence, bear witness of this, for did they\nnot deal equitably among themselves and observe fairness in their\ndivisions, their order would fall to pieces. For the rest, the\nchief of noble qualities is generosity and benevolence. How well\nsays the poet:\n\n'By largesse and mildness the youth chief of his tribe became, And\n     it were easy for thee to follow and do the same.'\n\nAnd quoth another:\n\n'In mildness stability lies and clemency wins us respect, And\n     safety in soothfastness is for him who is soothfast and\n     frank;\nAnd he who would get himself praise and renown for his wealth\n     from the folk, In the racecourse of glory must be, for\n     munificence, first in the rank.'\"\n\nAnd Nuzhet ez Zeman discoursed upon the policy and behaviour of\nkings, till the bystanders said, \"Never heard we one reason of\nthe duties of kings like this damsel! Mayhap she will favour us\nwith discourse upon some subject other than this.\" When she heard\nthis, she said, \"As for the chapter of good breeding,[FN#36] it is\nwide of scope, for it is a compend of perfections. There came in\none day to the Khalif Muawiyeh[FN#37] one of his boon-companions,\nwho spoke of the people of Irak and the goodness of their wit;\nand the Khalif's wife Meisoun, mother of Yezid, heard him. So,\nwhen he was gone, she said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, prithee let some of the people of Irak come in to thee\nand talk with them, that I may hear their discourse.' So the\nKhalif said to his attendants, 'Who is at the door?' And they\nanswered, 'The Benou Temim.' 'Let them come in,' said he. So they\ncame in and with them Ahnaf ben Cais.[FN#38] Now Muawiyeh had\ndrawn a curtain between himself and Meisoun, that she might hear\nwhat they said without being seen herself; and he said to Ahnaf,\n'O Abou Behr,[FN#39] pray, near and tell me what counsel thou hast\nfor me.' Quoth Ahnaf, 'Part thy hair and trim thy moustache and\nclip thy nails and pluck out the hair of thine armpits and shave\nthy pubes and be constant in the use of the toothstick, for\ntherein are two-and-seventy virtues, and make the Friday\n(complete) ablution as an expiation for what is between the two\nFridays.' 'What is thy counsel to thyself?' asked Muawiyeh. 'To\nplant my feet firmly on the ground,' replied Ahnaf, 'to move them\nwith deliberation and keep watch over them with my eyes.' 'How,'\nasked the Khalif, 'dost thou carry thyself, when thou goest in to\nthe common folk of thy tribe?' 'I lower my eyes modestly,' replied\nAhnaf, 'and salute them first, abstaining from what does not\nconcern me and being sparing of words.' 'And how, when thou goest\nin to thine equals?' asked Muawiyeh. 'I give ear to them, when they\nspeak,' answered the other, 'and do not assail them, when they err.'\n'And how dost thou,' said the Khalif, 'when thou goest in to thy\nchiefs?' 'I salute without making any sign,' answered Ahnaf, 'and\nawait the response: if they bid me draw near, I do so, and if they\nbid me stand aloof, I withdraw.' 'How dost thou with thy wife?'\nasked the Khalif. 'Excuse me from answering this, O Commander of\nthe Faithful!' replied he; but Muawiyeh said, 'I conjure thee to\nanswer.' Then said Ahnaf, 'I entreat her kindly and show her\npleasant familiarity and am large in expenditure, for women were\ncreated of a crooked rib.' 'And how,' asked the Khalif, 'dost thou\nwhen thou hast a mind to lie with her?' 'I speak to her to perfume\nherself,' answered the other, 'and kiss her till she is moved to\ndesire; then, if it be as thou knowest, I throw her on her back. If\nthe seed abide in her womb, I say, \"O my God, make it blessed and\nlet it not be a castaway, but fashion it into a goodly shape!\" Then\nI rise from her and betake myself to the ablution, first pouring\nwater over my hands and then over my body and returning thanks to\nGod for the delight He hath given me.' 'Thou hast answered\nexcellently well,' said Muawiyeh; 'and now tell me what thou wouldst\nhave.' Quoth Ahnaf, 'I would have thee rule thy subjects in the fear\nof God and do equal justice amongst them.' So saying, he withdrew\nfrom the Khalif's presence, and when he had gone, Meisoun said,\n'Were there but this man in Irak, he would suffice to it.' This\n(continued Nuzhet ez Zeman) is a small fraction of the chapter of\ngood breeding. Know O King, that Muyekib was intendant of the\ntreasury during the Khalifate of Omar ben Khettab. 'One day\n(quoth he) the Khalif's son came to me and I gave him a dirhem\nfrom the treasury. Then I returned to my own house, and\npresently, as I was sitting, there came to me a messenger,\nbidding me to the Khalif. So I was afraid and went to him, and\nwhen I came into his presence, I saw in his hand the dirhem I had\ngiven his son. \"Harkye, Muyekib,\" said he, \"I have found somewhat\nconcerning thy soul.\" \"What is it, O Commander of the Faithful?\"\nasked I; and he answered, \"It is that thou wilt have to render an\naccount of this dirhem to the people of Mohammed (on whom be\npeace and salvation) on the Day of Resurrection.\"' This same Omar\nwrote a letter to Abou Mousa el Ashari,[FN#40] to the following\npurport, 'When these presents reach thee, give the people what is\ntheirs and send the rest to me.' And he did so. When Othman\nsucceeded to the Khalifate, he wrote a like letter to Abou Mousa,\nwho did his bidding and sent him the tribute accordingly, and\nwith it came Ziad[FN#41] When the latter laid the tribute before\nOthman, the Khalif's son came in and took a dirhem, whereupon\nZiad fell a-weeping. 'Why dost thou weep?' asked Othman. Quoth\nZiad, 'I once brought Omar ben Khettab the like of this, and his\nson took a dirhem, whereupon Omar bade snatch it from his hand.\nNow thy son hath taken of the tribute, yet have I seen none\nrebuke him nor take the money from him.' And Othman said, 'Where\nwilt thou find the like of Omar?' Again, Zeid ben Aslam relates\nof his father that he said, 'I went out one night with Omar, and\nwe walked on till we espied a blazing fire in the distance. Quoth\nOmar, \"This must be travellers, who are suffering from the cold:\nlet us join them.\" So we made for the fire, and when we came to\nit, we found a woman who had lighted a fire under a cauldron, and\nby her side were two children, crying. \"Peace on you, O folk of\nthe light!\" said Omar, for he misliked to say, \"folk of the\nfire;\"[FN#42] \"what ails you?\" Quoth she, \"The cold and the night\nirk us.\" \"What ails these children that they weep?\" asked he.\n\"They are hungry,\" replied she. \"And what is in this cauldron?\"\nasked Omar. \"It is what I quiet them with,\" answered she, \"and\nGod will question Omar ben Khettab of them, on the Day of\nResurrection.\" \"And what,\" rejoined the Khalif, \"should Omar know\nof their case?\" \"Why then,\" said she, \"should he undertake the\ngovernance of the people's affairs and yet be unmindful of them?\"\nThen Omar turned to me and said, \"Come with me.\" So we both set\noff running till we reached the treasury, where he took out a\nsack of flour and a pot of fat and said to me, \"Put these on my\nback.\" \"O Commander of the Faithful,\" said I, \"I will carry them\nfor thee.\" \"Wilt thou bear my burden for me on the Day of\nResurrection?\" replied he. So I put the things on his back, and\nwe set off, running, till we came to the woman, when he threw\ndown the sack. Then he took out some of the flour and put it in\nthe cauldron and saying to the woman, \"Leave it to me,\" fell to\nblowing the fire; Now he had a great beard and I saw the smoke\nissuing from the interstices thereof, till the flour was cooked,\nwhen he threw in some of the fat and said to the woman, \"Do thou\nfeed the boys whilst I cool the food for them.\" So they ate their\nfill and he left the rest with her. Then he turned to me and\nsaid, \"O Aslam, I see it was indeed hunger made them weep; and I\nam glad I did not go away without finding out the reason of the\nlight I saw.\"' It is said that Omar passed, one day, by a flock\nof sheep, kept by a slave, and asked the latter to sell him a\nsheep. 'They are not mine,' replied the shepherd. 'Thou art the\nman I sought,' said Omar and buying him of his master, set him\nfree, whereupon the slave exclaimed, 'O my God, thou hast\nbestowed on me the lesser emancipation; vouchsafe me now the\ngreater!'[FN#43] They say also, that Omar ben Khettab was wont to\ngive his servants sweet milk and eat coarse fare himself and to\nclothe them softly and wear himself coarse garments. He gave all\nmen their due and exceeded in his giving to them. He once gave a\nman four thousand dirhems and added thereto yet a thousand,\nwherefore it was said to him, 'Why dost thou not favour thy son\nas thou favourest this man?' He answered, 'This man's father\nstood firm in fight on the day of Uhud.'[FN#44]  El Hassan\nrelates that Omar once came (back from an expedition) with much\nmoney and that Hefseh[FN#45] came to him and said, 'O Commander\nof the Faithful, be mindful of the due of kinship!' 'O Hefseh,'\nreplied he, 'God hath indeed enjoined us to satisfy the dues of\nkinship, but of our own monies, not those of the true believers.\nIndeed, thou pleasest thy family, but angerest thy father.' And\nshe went away, dragging her skirts. Says Omar's son, 'I implored\nGod one year (after Omar's death) to show me my father, till at\nlast I saw him wiping the sweat from his brow and said to him,\n\"How is it with thee, O my father?\" \"But for God's mercy,\"\nanswered he, \"thy father had perished.\" Then said Nuzhet ez\nZeman, \"Hear, O august King, the second division of the first\nchapter of the instances of the followers of the Prophet and\nother pious men. Says El Hassan of Bassora,[FN#46] 'Not a soul of\nthe sons of Adam goes forth of the world, without grieving for\nthree things, failure to enjoy what he has amassed, failure to\ncompass what he hoped and failure to provide himself with\nsufficient provision for that to which he goes.[FN#47]' It was\nsaid to Sufyan,[FN#48] 'Can a man be devout and yet possess\nwealth?' 'Yes,' replied he, 'so he be patient under affliction\nand return thanks, when God giveth to him.' When Abdallah ben\nSheddad was on his death-bed, he sent for his son Mohammed and\nadmonished him, saying, 'O my son, I see the messenger of death\ncalling me and so I charge thee to cherish the fear of God, both\nin public and private. Praise God and be true in thy speech, for\nthe praise of God brings increase of prosperity, and piety in\nitself is the best of provision,[FN#49] even as says one of the\npoets:\n\nI see not that bliss lies in filling one's chest; The God-fearing\n     man can alone be called blest.\nFor piety aye winneth increase of God; So of all men's provision\n     'tis surely the best.\n\nWhen Omar ben Abdulaziz[FN#50] succeeded to the Khalifate, he\nwent to his own house and laying hands on all that his family and\nhousehold possessed, put it into the public treasury. So the\nOmmiades[FN#51] betook themselves for aid to his father's sister,\nFatimeh, daughter of Merwan, and she sent to Omar, saying, 'I\nmust needs speak with thee.' So she came to him by night, and\nwhen he had made her alight from her beast and sit down, he said\nto her, 'O aunt, it is for thee to speak first, since it is at\nthine instance that we meet; tell me, therefore, what thou\nwouldst with me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'it\nis thine to speak first, for thy judgment perceives that which is\nhidden from the senses.' Then said the Khalif, 'Of a verity God\nsent Mohammed as a mercy to some and a punishment to others; and\nHe chose out for him what was with him and withdrew him to\nHimself, leaving the people a river, whereof the thirsty of them\nmight drink. After him he made Abou Bekr the Truth-teller Khalif\nand he left the river in its pristine state, doing what was\npleasing to God. Then arose Omar and worked a work and furnished\nforth a strife, of which none might do the like When Othman came,\nhe diverted a stream from the river, and Muawiyeh in his turn\nsundered several streams from it. In like manner, Yezid and the\nsons of Merwan, Abdulmelik and Welid and Suleiman[FN#52], ceased\nnot to take from the river and dry up the main stream, till the\ncommandment devolved upon me, and now I am minded to restore\nthe river to its normal condition.' When Fatimeh heard this,\nshe said, 'I came, wishing only to speak and confer with thee,\nbut if this be thy word, I have nothing to say to thee.' Then\nshe returned to the Ommiades and said to them, 'See what you\nhave brought on you by allying yourselves with Omar ben\nKhettab.' [FN#53] When Omar was on his deathbed, he gathered his\nchildren round him, and Meslemeh[FN#54] ben Abdulmelik said to\nhim, 'O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou leave thy children\nbeggars and thou their protector? None can hinder thee from\ngiving them in thy lifetime what will suffice them out of the\ntreasury; and this indeed were better than leaving it to revert\nto him who shall come after thee.' Omar gave him a look of wrath\nand wonder and replied, 'O Meslemeh, I have defended them all the\ndays of my life, and shall I make them miserable after my death?\nMy sons are like other men, either obedient to God the Most High\nor disobedient: if the former, God will prosper them, and if the\nlatter, I will not help them in their disobedience. Know, O\nMeslemeh, that I was present, even as thou, when such an one of\nthe sons of Merwan was buried, and I fell asleep by him and saw\nhim in a dream given over to one of the punishments of God, to\nwhom belong might and majesty. This terrified me and made me\ntremble, and I vowed to God that, if ever I came to the throne, I\nwould not do as the dead man had done. This vow I have striven to\nfulfil all the days of my life, and I hope to be received into\nthe mercy of my Lord.' Quoth Meslemeh, 'A certain man died and I\nwas present at his funeral. I fell asleep and meseemed I saw him,\nas in a dream, clad in white clothes and walking in a garden full\nof running waters. He came up to me and said, \"O Meslemeh, it is\nfor the like of this that governors (or men who bear rule) should\nwork.\"' Many are the instances of this kind, and quoth one of the\nmen of authority, 'I used to milk the ewes in the Khalifate of\nOmar ben Abdulaziz, and one day, I met a shepherd, among whose\nsheep were wolves. I thought them to be dogs, for I had never\nbefore seen wolves; so I said to the shepherd, \"What dost thou\nwith these dogs?\" \"They are not dogs, but wolves,\" replied he.\nQuoth I, \"Can wolves be with sheep and not hurt them?\" \"When the\nhead is whole,\" replied he, \"the body is whole also.\"' Omar ben\nAbdulaziz preached once from a mud pulpit, and after praising and\nglorifying God the Most High, said three words and spoke as\nfollows, 'O folk, make clean your hearts, that your outward lives\nmay be clean to your brethren, and abstain from the things of the\nworld. Know that from Adam to this present, there is no one man\nalive among the dead. Dead are Abdulmelik and those who forewent\nhim, and Omar also will die, and those who come after him.' Quoth\nMeslemeh (to this same Omar, when he was dying), 'O Commander of\nthe Faithful, shall we set a pillow behind thee, that thou mayest\nlean on it a little?' But Omar answered, 'I fear lest it be a\nfault about my neck on the Day of Resurrection.' Then he gasped\nfor breath and fell back in a swoon; whereupon Fatimeh cried out,\nsaying, 'Ho, Meryem! Ho, Muzahim! Ho, such an one! Look to this\nman!' And she began to pour water on him, weeping, till he\nrevived, and seeing her in tears, said to her, 'O Fatimeh, why\ndost thou weep?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'I\nsaw thee lying prostrate before us and thought of thy prostration\nbefore God the Most High in death and of thy departure from the\nworld and separation from us. This is what made me weep.'\n'Enough, O Fatimeh,' answered he; 'indeed thou exceedest.' Then\nhe would have risen, but fell down, and Fatimeh strained him to\nher, saying, 'Thou art to me as my father and my mother, O\nCommander of the Faithful! We cannot speak to thee, all of\nus.'[FN#55] Again (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman), Omar ben Abdulaziz\nwrote to the people of the festival at Mecca, as follows, 'I call\nGod to witness, in the Holy Month, in the Holy City and on the\nday of the Great Pilgrimage, that I am innocent of your\noppression and of the wickedness of him that doth you wrong, in\nthat I have neither commanded this nor purposed it, neither hath\nany report of aught thereof reached me (till now) nor have I had\nknowledge of it; and I trust therefore that God will pardon it to\nme. None hath authority from me to do oppression, for I shall\nassuredly be questioned (at the Last Day) concerning every one\nwho hath been wrongfully entreated. So if any one of my officers\nswerve from the right and act without law or authority,[FN#56] ye\nowe him no obedience, till he return to the right way.' He said\nalso (may God accept of him), 'I do not wish to be relieved from\ndeath, for that it is the supreme thing for which the true\nbeliever is rewarded.' Quoth one of authority, 'I went one day to\nthe Commander of the Faithful, Omar ben Abdulaziz, who was then\nKhalif, and saw before him twelve dirhems, which he bade take to\nthe treasury. So I said to him, \"O Commander of the Faithful,\nthou impoverishest thy children and reducest them to beggary,\nleaving nothing for them. Thou wouldst do well to appoint\nsomewhat by will to them and to those who are poor of the people\nof thy house.\" \"Draw near to me,\" answered he. So I drew near to\nhim and he said, \"As for thy saying, 'Thou beggarest thy\nchildren; provide for them and for the poor of thy household,' it\nis without reason, for God will replace me to my children and to\nthose who are poor of the people of my house, and He will be\ntheir guardian. Verily, they are like other men; he who fears\nGod, God will provide him a happy issue, and he that is addicted\nto sin, I will not uphold him in his disobedience.\" Then he\ncalled his sons before him, and they were twelve in number. When\nhe beheld them, his eyes filled with tears and he said to them,\n\"Your father is between two things; either ye will be rich and he\nwill enter the fire, or ye will be poor and he enter Paradise;\nand your father's entry into Paradise is liefer to him than that\nye should be rich. So go, God be your helper, for to Him I commit\nyour affair.\"' Quoth Khalid ben Sefwan,[FN#57] 'Yusuf ben\nOmar[FN#58] accompanied me to Hisham ben Abdulmelik,[FN#59] and I\nmet him as he came forth with his kinsmen and attendants. He\nalighted and a tent was pitched for him. When the people had\ntaken their seats, I came up to the side of the carpet (on which\nthe Khalif was reclining) and waiting till my eyes met his,\nbespoke him thus, \"May God fulfil His bounty to thee, O Commander\nof the Faithful, and direct into the right way the affairs He\nhath committed to thy charge, and may no harm mingle with thy\ncheer! O Commander of the Faithful, I have an admonition for\nthee, which I have gleaned from the history of the kings of time\npast!\" At this, he sat up and said to me, \"O son of Sefwan, say\nwhat is in thy mind.\" \"O Commander of the Faithful,\" quoth I,\n\"one of the kings before thee went forth, in a time before thy\ntime, to this very country and said to his companions, 'Saw ye\never any in the like of my state or to whom hath been given even\nas it hath been given unto me?' Now there was with him one of\nthose who survive to bear testimony to the Faith and are\nupholders of the Truth and walkers in its highway, and he said,\n'O King, thou askest of a grave matter. Wilt thou give me leave\nto answer?' 'Yes,' replied the King, and the other said, 'Dost\nthou judge thy present state to be temporary or enduring?' 'It is\na temporary thing,' replied the King. 'Why then,' asked the man,\n'do I see thee exult in that which thou wilt enjoy but a little\nwhile and whereof thou wilt be questioned at length and for the\nrendering an account whereof thou wilt be as a pledge?' 'Whither\nshall I flee,' asked the King, 'and where is that I must seek?'\n'Abide in thy kingship,' replied the other, 'and apply thyself to\nobey the commandments of God the Most High; or else don thy\nworn-out clothes and devote thyself to the service of thy Lord,\ntill thine appointed hour come to thee.' Then he left him,\nsaying, 'I will come to thee again at daybreak.' So he knocked at\nhis door at dawn and found that the King had put off his crown\nand resolved to become an anchorite, for the stress of his\nexhortation.\" When Hisham heard this, he wept till his beard was\ndrenched and putting off his rich apparel, shut himself up in his\npalace. Then the grandees and courtiers came to me and said,\n\"What is this thou hast done with the Commander of the Faithful?\nThou hast marred his cheer and troubled his life!\"' \"But\n(continued Nuzhet ez Zeman, addressing herself to Sherkan) how\nmany admonitory instances are there not that bear upon this\nbranch of the subject! Indeed, it is beyond my power to report\nall that pertains to this head in one sitting; but, with length\nof days, O King of the age, all will be well.\"\n\nThen said the Cadis, \"O King, of a truth this damsel is the\nwonder of the time and the unique pearl of the age! Never in all\nour lives heard we the like.\" And they called down blessings on\nSherkan and went away. Then said he to his attendants, \"Prepare\nthe wedding festivities and make ready food of all kinds.\" So\nthey addressed themselves to do his bidding, and he bade the\nwives of the amirs and viziers and grandees depart not until the\ntime of the wedding banquet and of the unveiling of the bride.\nHardly was the time of afternoon-prayer come, when the tables\nwere spread with roast meats and geese and fowls and all that the\nheart can desire or that can delight the eye; and all the people\nate till they were satisfied. Moreover, the King had sent for all\nthe singing-women of Damascus and they were present, together\nwith all the slave-girls of the King and the notables who knew\nhow to sing. When the evening came and it grew dark, they lighted\nflambeaux, right and left, from the gate of the citadel to that\nof the palace, and the amirs and viziers and grandees defiled\nbefore King Sherkan, whilst the singers and the tire-women took\nNuzhet ez Zeman, to dress and adorn her, but found she needed no\nadorning. Meantime King Sherkan went to the bath and coming out,\nsat down on his bed of estate, whilst they unveiled the bride\nbefore him in seven different dresses; after which they eased her\nof the weight of her dresses and ornaments and gave such\ninjunctions as are usually given to girls on their wedding-night.\nThen Sherkan went in to her and took her maidenhead; and she at\nonce conceived by him, whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy\nand commanded the sages to record the date of her conception. On\nthe morrow, he went forth and seated himself on his throne, and\nthe grandees came in to him and gave him joy. Then he called his\nprivate secretary and bade him write to his father, King Omar ben\nEnnuman, a letter to the following effect: \"Know that I have\nbought me a damsel, who excels in learning and accomplishment and\nis mistress of all kinds of knowledge. I have set her free and\nmarried her and she has conceived by me. And needs must I send\nher to Baghdad to visit my brother Zoulmekan and my sister Nuzhet\nez Zeman.\" And he went on to praise her wit and salute his\nbrother and sister, together with the Vizier Dendan and all the\namirs. Then he sealed the letter and despatched it to his father\nby a courier, who was absent a whole month, after which time he\nreturned with the old King's answer. Sherkan took it and read as\nfollows, after the usual preamble, \"In the name of God,\" etc.,\n\"This is from the afflicted and distraught, him who hath lost his\nchildren and is (as it were) an exile from his native land, King\nOmar ben Ennuman, to his son Sherkan. Know that, since thy\ndeparture from me, the place is become contracted upon me, so\nthat I can no longer have patience nor keep my secret: and the\nreason of this is as follows. It chanced that Zoulmekan sought my\nleave to go on the pilgrimage, but I, fearing for him the shifts\nof fortune, forbade him therefrom until the next year or the year\nafter. Soon after this, I went out to hunt and was absent a whole\nmonth. When I returned, I found that thy brother and sister had\ntaken somewhat of money and set out by stealth with the caravan\nof pilgrims. When I knew this, the wide world became strait on\nme, O my son; but I awaited the return of the caravan, hoping\nthat they would return with it. Accordingly, when the caravan\ncame back, I questioned the pilgrims of them, but they could give\nme no news of them; so I put on mourning apparel for them, being\nheavy at heart and sleepless and drowned in the tears of my\neyes.\" Then followed these verses:\n\nTheir image is never absent a breathing-while from my breast, I\n     have made it within my bosom the place of the honoured\n     guest,\nBut that I look for their coming, I would not live for an hour,\n     And but that I see them in dreams, I ne'er should lie down\n     to rest.\n\nThe letter went on (after the usual salutations to Sherkan and\nthose of his court), \"Do not thou therefore neglect to seek news\nof them, for indeed this is a dishonour to us.\" When Sherkan read\nthe letter, he mourned for his father, but rejoiced in the loss\nof his brother and sister. Now Nuzhet ez Zeman knew not that he\nwas her brother nor he that she was his sister, although he paid\nher frequent visits, both by day and by night, till the months of\nher pregnancy were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of\ndelivery. God made the delivery easy to her and she gave birth to\na daughter, whereupon she sent for Sherkan and said to him, \"This\nis thy daughter: name her as thou wilt.\" Quoth he, \"Folk use to\nname their children on the seventh day.\" Then he bent down to\nkiss the child and saw, hung about her neck, a jewel, which he\nknew at once for one of those that the princess Abrizeh had\nbrought from the land of the Greeks. At this sight, his senses\nfled, his eyes rolled and wrath seized on him, and he looked at\nNuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, \"O damsel, whence hadst thou\nthis jewel?\" When she heard this, she replied, \"I am thy lady and\nthe lady of all in thy palace. Art thou not ashamed to say to me,\n'O damsel'?[FN#60] Indeed, I am a queen, the daughter of a king;\nand now concealment shall cease and the truth be made known. I am\nNuzhet ez Zeman, daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman.\" When Sherkan\nheard this, he was seized with trembling and bowed his head\ntowards the earth, whilst his heart throbbed and his colour\npaled, for he knew that she was his sister by the same father.\nThen he lost his senses; and when he revived, he abode in\namazement, but did not discover himself to her and said to her,\n\"O my lady, art thou indeed the daughter of King Omar ben\nEnnuman?\" \"Yes,\" replied she; and he said, \"Tell me how thou\ncamest to leave thy father and be sold for a slave.\" So she told\nhim all that had befallen her, from first to last, how she had\nleft her brother sick in Jerusalem and how the Bedouin had lured\nher away and sold her to the merchant. When Sherkan heard this\nall was certified that she was indeed his sister, he said to\nhimself, \"How can I have my sister to wife? By Allah, I must\nmarry her to one of my chamberlains; and if the thing get wind, I\nwill avouch that I divorced her before consummation and married\nher to my chief chamberlain.\" Then he raised his head and said,\n\"O Nuzhet ez Zeman, thou art my very sister; for I am Sherkan,\nson of King Omar ben Ennuman, and may God forgive us the sin into\nwhich we have fallen!\" She looked at him and seeing that he spoke\nthe truth, became as one bereft of reason and wept and buffeted\nher face, exclaiming, \"There is no power and no virtue but in\nGod! Verily we have fallen into grievous sin! What shall I do and\nwhat answer shall I make my father and my mother, when they say\nto me, 'Whence hadst thou thy daughter'?\" Quoth Sherkan, \"I\npurpose to marry thee to my chief chamberlain and let thee bring\nup my daughter in his house, that none may know thee to be my\nsister. This that hath befallen us was ordained of God for a\npurpose of His own, and there is no way to cover ourselves but by\nthy marriage with the chamberlain, ere any know.\" Then he fell to\ncomforting her and kissing her head, and she said to him, \"What\nwilt thou call the child?\" \"Call her Kuzia Fekan,\"[FN#61] replied\nhe. Then he gave her in marriage to the chief chamberlain, and\nthey reared the child in his house, on the laps of the slave-girls,\ntill, one day, there came to King Sherkan a courier\nfrom his father, with a letter to the following purport, \"In the\nname of God, etc. Know, O puissant King, that I am sore afflicted\nfor the loss of my children: sleep fails me and wakefulness is\never present with me. I send thee this letter that thou mayst\nmake ready the tribute of Syria and send it to us, together with\nthe damsel whom thou hast bought and taken to wife; for I long to\nsee her and hear her discourse; because there has come to us from\nthe land of the Greeks a devout old woman, with five damsels,\nhigh-bosomed maids, endowed with knowledge and accomplishments\nand all fashions of learning that befit mortals; and indeed the\ntongue fails to describe this old woman and her companions. As\nsoon as I saw the damsels, I loved them and wished to have them\nin my palace and at my commandment, for none of the kings\npossesses the like of them; so I asked the old woman their price,\nand she replied, 'I will not sell them but for the tribute of\nDamascus.' And by Allah, this is but little for them, for each\none of them is worth the whole price. So I agreed to this and\ntook them into my palace, and they remain in my possession.\nWherefore do thou expedite the tribute to us, that the old woman\nmay return to her own country; and send us the damsel, that she\nmay strive with them before the doctors; and if she overcome\nthem, I will send her back to thee with the year's revenue of\nBaghdad.\" When Sherkan read this letter, he went in to his\nbrother-in-law and said to him, \"Call the damsel to whom I\nmarried thee.\" So she came, and he showed her the letter and said\nto her, \"O my sister, what answer wouldst thou have me make to\nthis letter?\" \"It is for thee to judge,\" replied she. Then she\nrecalled her people and her native land and yearned after them;\nso she said to him, \"Send me and my husband the Chamberlain to\nBaghdad, that I may tell my father how the Bedouin seized me and\nsold me to the merchant, and how thou boughtest me of him and\ngavest me in marriage to the Chamberlain, after setting me free.\"\n\"Be it so,\" replied Sherkan. Then he made ready the tribute in\nhaste and gave it to the Chamberlain, bidding him make ready for\nBaghdad, and furnished him with camels and mules and two\ntravelling litters, one for himself and the other for the\nprincess. Moreover, he wrote a letter to his father and committed\nit to the Chamberlain. Then he took leave of his sister, after he\nhad taken the jewel from her and hung it round his daughter's\nneck by a chain of fine gold; and she and her husband set out for\nBaghdad the same night. Now their caravan was the very one to\nwhich Zoulmekan and his friend the stoker had joined themselves,\nas before related, having waited till the Chamberlain passed\nthem, riding on a dromedary, with his footmen around him. Then\nZoulmekan mounted the stoker's ass and said to the latter, \"Do\nthou mount with me.\" But he said, \"Not so: I will be thy\nservant.\" Quoth Zoulmekan, \"Needs must thou ride awhile.\" \"It is\nwell,\" replied the stoker; \"I will ride when I grow tired.\" Then\nsaid Zoulmekan, \"O my brother, thou shalt see how I will do with\nthee, when I come to my own people.\" So they journeyed on till\nthe sun rose, and when it was the hour of the noonday rest, the\nChamberlain called a halt, and they alighted and rested and\nwatered their camels. Then he gave the signal for departure and\nthey journeyed for five days, till they came to the city of\nHemah, where they made a three days' halt; then set out again and\nfared on, till they reached the province of Diarbekir. Here there\nblew on them the breezes of Baghdad, and Zoulmekan bethought him\nof his father and mother and his native land and how he was\nreturning to his father without his sister: so he wept and sighed\nand complained, and his regrets increased on him, and he repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nHow long wilt thou delay from me, beloved one? I wait: And yet\n     there comes no messenger with tidings of thy fate.\nAlack, the time of love-delight and peace was brief indeed! Ah,\n     that the days of parting thus would of their length abate!\nTake thou my hand and put aside my mantle and thou'lt find My\n     body wasted sore; and yet I hide my sad estate.\nAnd if thou bid me be consoled for thee, \"By God,\" I say, \"I'll\n     ne'er forget thee till the Day that calls up small and\n     great!\"\n\n\"Leave this weeping and lamenting,\" said the stoker, \"for we are\nnear the Chamberlain's tent.\" Quoth Zoulmekan, \"Needs must I\nrecite somewhat of verse, so haply it may allay the fire of my\nheart.\" \"God on thee,\" cried the stoker, \"leave this lamentation,\ntill thou come to thine own country; then do what thou wilt, and\nI will be with thee, wherever thou art.\" \"By Allah,\" replied\nZoulmekan, \"I cannot forbear from this!\" Then he set his face\ntowards Baghdad and began to repeat verses. Now the moon was\nshining brightly and shedding her light on the place, and Nuzhet\nez Zeman could not sleep that night, but was wakeful and called\nto mind her brother and wept. Presently, she heard Zoulmekan\nweeping and repeating the following verses:\n\nThe southern lightning gleams in the air And rouses in me the old\n     despair,\nThe grief for a dear one, loved and lost, Who filled me the cup\n     of joy whilere.\nIt minds me of her who fled away And left me friendless and sick\n     and bare.\nO soft-shining lightnings, tell me true, Are the days of\n     happiness past fore'er?\nChide not, O blamer of me, for God Hath cursed me with two things\n     hard to bear,\nA friend who left me to pine alone, And a fortune whose smile was\n     but a snare.\nThe sweet of my life was gone for aye, When fortune against me\n     did declare;\nShe brimmed me a cup of grief unmixed, And I must drink it and\n     never spare.\nOr ever our meeting 'tide, sweetheart, Methinks I shall die of\n     sheer despair,\nI prithee, fortune, bring back the days When we were a happy\n     childish pair;\nThe days, when we from the shafts of fate, That since have\n     pierced us, in safety were!\nAh, who shall succour the exiled wretch, Who passes the night in\n     dread and care,\nAnd the day in mourning for her whose name, Delight of the\n     Age[FN#62], bespoke her fair?\nThe hands of the baseborn sons of shame Have doomed us the wede\n     of woe to wear.\n\nThen he cried out and fell down in a swoon, and when Nuzhet ez\nZeman heard his voice in the night, her heart was solaced and she\nrose and called the chief eunuch, who said to her, \"What is thy\nwill?\" Quoth she, \"Go and fetch me him who recited verses but\nnow.\" \"I did not hear him,\" replied he; \"the people are all\nasleep.\" And she said, \"Whomsoever thou findest awake, he is the\nman.\" So he went out and sought, but found none awake but the\nstoker; for Zoulmekan was still insensible, and, Nuzhet ez Zeman,\ngoing up to the former, said to him, \"Art thou he who recited\nverses but now, and my lady heard him?\" The stoker concluded that\nthe lady was wroth and was afraid and replied, \"By Allah, 'twas\nnot I!\" \"Who then was it?\" rejoined the eunuch. \"Point him out to\nme. Thou must know who it was, seeing that thou art awake.\" The\nstoker feared for Zoulmekan and said in himself, \"Maybe the\neunuch will do him some hurt.\" So he answered, \"I know not who it\nwas.\" \"By Allah,\" said the eunuch, \"thou liest, for there is none\nawake here but thou! So needs must thou know him.\" \"By Allah,\"\nreplied the stoker, \"I tell thee the truth! It must have been\nsome passer-by who recited the verses and disturbed me and\naroused me, may God requite him!\" Quoth the eunuch, \"If thou\nhappen upon him, point him out to me and I will lay hands on him\nand bring him to the door of my lady's litter; or do thou take\nhim with thine own hand.\" \"Go back,\" said the stoker, \"and I will\nbring him to thee.\" So the eunuch went back to his mistress and\nsaid to her, \"None knows who it was; it must have been some\npasser-by.\" And she was silent. Meanwhile, Zoulmekan came to\nhimself and saw that the moon had reached the zenith and felt the\nbreath of the breeze that goes before the dawn; whereupon his\nheart was moved to longing and sadness, and he cleared his throat\nand was about to recite verses, when the stoker said to him,\n\"What wilt thou do?\" \"I have a mind to repeat somewhat of verse,\"\nanswered Zoulmekan, \"that I may allay therewith the fire of my\nheart.\" Quoth the other, \"Thou knowest not what befell me, whilst\nthou wert aswoon, and how I only escaped death by beguiling the\neunuch.\" \"Tell me what happened,\" said Zoulrnekan. \"Whilst thou\nwert aswoon,\" replied the stoker, \"there came up to me but now an\neunuch, with a long staff of almond-tree wood in his hand, who\nlooked in all the people's faces, as they lay asleep, and finding\nnone awake but myself, asked me who it was recited the verses. I\ntold him it was some passer-by; so he went away and God delivered\nme from him; else had he killed me. But first he said to me, 'If\nthou hear him again, bring him to us.'\" When Zoulmekan heard\nthis, he wept and said, \"Who is it would forbid me to recite? I\nwill surely do so, come what may; for I am near my own country\nand care for no one.\" \"Dost thou wish to destroy thyself?\" asked\nthe stoker; and Zoulmekan answered, \"I cannot help reciting\nverses.\" \"Verily,\" said the stoker, \"I see this will bring about\na parting between us here though I had promised myself not to\nleave thee, till I had brought thee to thy native city and\nre-united thee with thy mother and father. Thou hast now been\nwith me a year and a half, and I have never baulked thee or\nharmed thee in aught. What ails thee then, that thou must needs\nrecite, seeing that we are exceeding weary with travel and\nwatching and all the folk are asleep, for they need sleep to rest\nthem of their fatigue.\" But Zoulmekan answered, \"I will not be\nturned from my purpose.\" Then grief moved him and he threw off\ndisguise and began to repeat the following verses:\n\nHalt by the camp and hail the ruined steads by the brake, And\n     call on her name aloud; mayhap she will answer make.\nAnd if for her absence the night of sadness darken on thee, Light\n     in its gloom a fire with longings for her sake.\nThough the snake of the sand-hills hiss, small matter is it to me\n     If it sting me, so I the fair with the lips of crimson take.\nO Paradise, left perforce of the spirit, but that I hope For ease\n     in the mansions of bliss, my heart would surely break!\n\nAnd these also:\n\nTime was when fortune was to us even as a servant is, And in the\n     loveliest of lands our happy lives did kiss.\nAh, who shall give me back the abode of my belov'd, wherein The\n     Age's Joy[FN#63] and Place's Light[FN#64] erst dwelt in\n     peace and bliss?\n\nThen he cried out three times and fell down senseless, and the\nstoker rose and covered him. When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard the first\nverses, she called to mind her mother and father and brother; and\nwhen she heard the second, mentioning the names of herself and\nher brother and their sometime home, she wept and calling the\neunuch, said to him, \"Out on thee! But now I heard him who\nrecited the first time do so again, and that hard by. So, by\nAllah, an thou fetch him not to me, I will rouse the Chamberlain\non thee, and he shall beat thee and turn thee away. But take\nthese hundred dinars and give them to him and do him no hurt, but\nbring him to me gently. If he refuse, give him this purse of a\nthousand dinars and leave him and return to me and tell me, after\nthou hast informed thyself of his place and condition and what\ncountryman he is. Return quickly and do not linger, and beware\nlest thou come back and say, 'I could not find him.'\" So the\neunuch went out and fell to examining the people and treading\namongst them, but found none awake, for the folk were all asleep\nfor weariness, till he came to the stoker and saw him sitting up,\nwith his head uncovered. So he drew near him and seizing him by\nthe hand, said to him, \"It was thou didst recite the verses!\" The\nstoker was affrighted and replied, \"No, by Allah, O chief of the\npeople, it was not I!\" But the eunuch said, \"I will not leave\nthee till thou show me who it was; for I fear to return to my\nlady without him.\" Thereupon the stoker feared for Zoulmekan and\nwept sore and said to the eunuch, \"By Allah, it was not I, nor do\nI know who it was. I only heard some passer-by recite verses: so\ndo not thou commit sin on me, for I am a stranger and come from\nJerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of God be with thee!\" \"Come\nthou with me,\" rejoined the eunuch, \"and tell my lady this with\nthine own mouth, for I see none awake but thee.\" Quoth the\nstoker, \"Hast thou not seen me sitting here and dost thou not\nknow my station? Thou knowest none can stir from his place,\nexcept the guards seize him. So go thou to thy mistress and if\nthou hear any one reciting again, whether it be near or far, it\nwill be I or some one whom I shall know, and thou shalt not know\nof him but by me.\" Then he kissed the eunuch's head and spoke him\nfair, till he went away; but he made a circuit and returning\nsecretly, came and hid himself behind the stoker, fearing to go\nback to his mistress empty-handed. As soon as he was gone, the\nstoker aroused Zoulmekan and said to him, \"Awake and sit up, that\nI may tell thee what has happened.\" So Zoulmekan sat up, and the\nstoker told him what had passed, and he answered, \"Let me alone;\nI will take no heed of this and I care for none, for I am near my\nown country.\" Quoth the stoker, \"Why wilt thou obey thine own\ninclinations and the promptings of the devil? If thou fearest no\none, I fear for thee and myself; so God on thee, recite no more\nverses, till thou come to thine own country! Indeed, I had not\nthought thee so self-willed. Dost thou not know that this lady is\nthe wife of the Chamberlain and is minded to chide thee for\ndisturbing her. Belike, she is ill or restless for fatigue, and\nthis is the second time she hath sent the eunuch to look for\nthee.\" However, Zoulmekan paid no heed to him, but cried out a\nthird time and repeated the following verses:\n\nThe carping tribe I needs must flee; Their railing chafes my\n     misery.\nThey blame and chide at me nor know They do but fan the flame in\n     me.\n\"She is consoled,\" they say. And I, \"Can one consoled for country\n     be?\"\nQuoth they, \"How beautiful she is!\" And I, \"How dear-belov'd is\n     she!\"\n\"How high her rank!\" say they; and I, \"How base is my humility!\"\nNow God forfend I leave to love, Deep though I drink of agony!\nNor will I heed the railing race, Who carp at me for loving thee.\n\nHardly had he made an end of these verses when the eunuch, who\nhad heard him from his hiding, came up to him; whereupon the\nstoker fled and stood afar off, to see what passed between them.\nThen said the eunuch to Zoulmekan, \"Peace be on thee, O my lord!\"\n\"And on thee be peace,\" replied Zoulmekan, \"and the mercy of God\nand His blessing!\" \"O my lord,\" continued the eunuch, \"this is\nthe third time I have sought thee this night, for my mistress\nbids thee to her.\" Quoth Zoulmekan, \"Whence comes this bitch that\nseeks for me? May God curse her and her husband too!\" And he\nbegan to revile the eunuch, who could make him no answer, because\nhis mistress had charged him to do Zoulmekan no violence nor\nbring him, save of his free will, and if he would not come, to\ngive him the thousand dinars. So he began to speak him fair and\nsay to him, \"O my lord, take this (purse) and go with me. We will\ndo thee no unright nor wrong thee in aught; but we would have\nthee bend thy gracious steps with me to my mistress, to speak\nwith her and return in peace and safety; and thou shalt have a\nhandsome present.\" When Zoulmekan heard this, he arose and went\nwith the eunuch, stepping over the sleeping folk, whilst the\nstoker followed them at a distance, saying to himself, \"Alas, the\npity of his youth! To-morrow they will hang him. How base it will\nbe of him, if he say it was I who bade him recite the verses!\"\nAnd he drew near to them and stood, watching them, without their\nknowledge, till they came to Nuzhet ez Zeman's tent, when the\neunuch went in to her and said, \"O my lady, I have brought thee\nhim whom thou soughtest, and he is a youth, fair of face and\nbearing the marks of gentle breeding.\" When she heard this, her\nheart fluttered and she said, \"Let him recite some verses, that I\nmay hear him near at hand, and after ask him his name and\nextraction.\" So the eunuch went out to Zoulmekan and said to him,\n\"Recite what verses thou knowest, for my lady is here hard by,\nlistening to thee, and after I will ask thee of thy name and\nextraction and condition.\" \"Willingly,\" replied he; \"but as for\nmy name, it is blotted out and my trace among men is passed away\nand my body wasted. I have a story, the beginning of which is not\nknown nor can the end of it be described, and behold, I am even\nas one who hath exceeded in drinking wine, till he hath lost the\nmastery of himself and is afflicted with distempers and wanders\nfrom his right mind, being perplexed about his case and drowned\nin the sea of melancholy.\" When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she\nbroke out into loud weeping and sobbing and said to the eunuch,\n\"Ask him if he have lost a beloved one, such as his father or\nmother.\" The eunuch did as she bade him, and Zoulmekan replied,\n\"Yes, I have lost all whom I loved: but the dearest of all to me\nwas my sister, from whom Fate hath parted me.\" When Nuzhet ez\nZeman heard this, she exclaimed, \"May God the Most High reunite\nhim with those he loves!\" Then said she to the eunuch, \"Tell him\nto let me hear somewhat on the subject of his separation from his\npeople and his country.\" The eunuch did so, and Zoulmekan sighed\nheavily and repeated the following verses:\n\nAh, would that I knew they were ware Of the worth of the heart\n     they have won!\nWould I knew through what passes they fare, From what quarter\n     they look on the sun! Are they living, I wonder, or dead?\n     Can it be that their life's race is run?\nAh, the lover is ever distraught And his life for misgivings\n     undone!\n\nAnd also these:\n\nI vow, if e'er the place shall bless my longing sight, Wherein my\n     sister dwells, the age's dear delight,[FN#65]\nI'll take my fill of life and all the sweets of peace, Midst\n     trees and flowing streams: and maidens fair and bright\nThe lute's enchanting tones shall soothe me to repose, What while\n     I quaff full cups of wine like living light\nAnd honeyed dews of love suck from the deep-red lips Of lovelings\n     sleepy-eyed, with tresses black as night.\n\nWhen he had finished, Nuzhet ez Zeman lifted up a corner of the\ncurtain of the litter and looked at him. As soon as her eyes fell\non him, she knew him for certain and cried out, \"O my brother! O\nZoulmekan!\" He looked at her and knew her and cried out, \"O my\nsister! O Nuzhet ez Zeman!\" Then she threw herself upon him, and\nhe received her in his arms, and they both fell down in a swoon.\nWhen the eunuch saw this, he wondered and throwing over them\nsomewhat to cover them, waited till they should recover. After\nawhile, they came to themselves, and Nuzhet ez Zeman rejoiced\nexceedingly. Grief and anxiety left her and joys flocked upon her\nand she repeated the following verses:\n\nFate swore 'twould never cease to plague my life and make me rue.\n     Thou hast not kept thine oath, O Fate; so look thou penance\n     do.\nGladness is come and my belov'd is here to succour me; So rise\n     unto the summoner of joys, and quickly too.\nI had no faith in Paradise of olden time, until I won the nectar\n     of its streams from lips of damask hue.\n\nWhen Zoulmekan heard this, he pressed his sister to his breast,\nwhilst, for the excess of his joy, the tears streamed from his\neyes and he repeated the following verses:\n\nLong time have I bewailed the severance of our loves, With tears\n     that from my lids streamed down like burning rain,\nAnd vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should\n     never speak of severance again.\nJoy hath o'erwhelmed me so, that, for the very stress Of that\n     which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain.\nTears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, So that ye weep alike\n     for gladness and for pain.\n\nThey sat awhile at the door of the litter, conversing, till she\nsaid to him, \"Come with me into the litter and tell me all that\nhas befallen thee, and I will do the like.\" So they entered and\nZoulmekan said, \"Do thou begin.\" Accordingly, she told him all\nthat had happened to her since their separation and said,\n\"Praised be God who hath vouchsafed thee to me and ordained that,\neven as we left our father together, so we shall return to him\ntogether! Now tell me how it has fared with thee since I left\nthee.\" So he told her all that had befallen him and how God had\nsent the stoker to him, and how he had journeyed with him and\nspent his money on him and tended him night and day. She praised\nthe stoker for this, and Zoulmekan added, \"Indeed, O my sister,\nthe man hath dealt with me in such benevolent wise as would not a\nlover with his mistress or a father with his son, for that he\nfasted and gave me to eat, and went afoot, whilst he made me\nride; and I owe my life to him.\" \"God willing,\" said she, \"we\nwill requite him for all this, according to our power.\" Then she\ncalled the eunuch, who came and kissed Zoulmekan's hand, and she\nsaid, \"Take thy reward for glad tidings, O face of good omen! It\nwas thy hand reunited me with my brother; so the purse I gave\nthee and its contents are thine. But now go to thy master and\nbring him quickly to me.\" The eunuch rejoiced and going to the\nChamberlain, summoned him to his mistress. Accordingly, he came\nin to his wife and finding Zoulmekan with her, asked who he was.\nSo she told him all that had befallen them, first and last, and\nadded, \"Know, O Chamberlain, that thou hast gotten no slave-girl\nto wife: but the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman: for I am\nNuzhet ez Zeman, and this is my brother Zoulmekan.\" When the\nChamberlain heard her story, he knew it for the manifest truth\nand was certified that he was become King Omar ben Ennuman's\nson-in-law and said to himself, \"I shall surely be made governor\nof some province.\" Then he went up to Zoulmekan and gave him joy\nof his safety and re-union with his sister, and bade his servants\nforthwith make him ready a tent and one of the best of his own\nhorses to ride. Then said Nuzhet ez Zeman, \"We are now near my\ncountry and I would fain be alone with my brother, that we may\nenjoy one another's company and take our fill of each other,\nbefore we reach Baghdad; for we have been long parted.\" \"Be it as\nthou wilt,\" replied the Chamberlain and going forth, sent them\nwax candles and various kinds of sweetmeats, together with three\ncostly suits of clothes for Zoulmekan. Then he returned to the\nlitter, and Nuzhet ez Zeman said to him, \"Bid the eunuch find the\nstoker and give him a horse to ride and provide him a tray of\nfood morning and evening, and let him be forbidden to leave us.\"\nThe Chamberlain called the eunuch and charged him accordingly; so\nhe took his pages with him and went out in search of the stoker,\nwhom he found at the tail of the caravan, saddling his ass and\npreparing for flight. The tears were running down his cheeks, out\nof fear for himself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan,\nand he was saying to himself, \"Indeed, I warned him for the love\nof God, but he would not listen to me. O that I knew what is\nbecome of him!\" Before he had done speaking, the eunuch came up\nand stood behind him, whilst the pages surrounded him. The stoker\nturned and seeing the eunuch and the pages round him, changed\ncolour and trembled in every nerve for affright, exclaiming,\n\"Verily, he knows not the value of the good offices I have done\nhim! I believe he has denounced me to the eunuch and made me an\naccomplice in his offence.\" Then the eunuch cried out at him,\nsaying, \"Who was it recited the verses? Liar that thou art, why\ndidst thou tell me that thou knewest not who it was, when it was\nthy companion? But now I will not leave thee till we come to\nBaghdad, and what betides thy comrade shall betide thee.\" Quoth\nthe stoker, \"Verily, what I feared has fallen on me.\" And he\nrepeated the following verse:\n\n'Tis e'en as I feared it would be: We are God's and to Him return\n     we.\n\nThen said the eunuch to the pages, \"Take him off the ass.\" So\nthey took him off the ass and setting him on a horse, carried him\nalong with the caravan, surrounded by the pages, to whom said the\neunuch, \"If a hair of him be missing, it shall be the worse for you.\"\nBut he bade them privily treat him with consideration and not\nhumiliate him. When the stoker saw himself in this case, he gave\nhimself up for lost and turning to the eunuch, said to him, \"O chief,\nI am neither this youth's brother nor anywise akin to him; but I\nwas a stoker in a bath and found him lying asleep on the fuel-heap.\"\nThen the caravan fared on and the stoker wept and imagined a\nthousand things in himself, whilst the eunuch walked by his side\nand told him nothing, but said to him, \"You disturbed our mistress\nby reciting verses, thou and the lad: but have no fear for thyself.\"\nThis he said, laughing at him the while in himself. When the\ncaravan halted, they brought them food, and he and the eunuch ate\nfrom one dish. Then the eunuch let bring a gugglet of sherbet of\nsugar and after drinking himself, gave it to the stoker, who drank;\nbut all the while his tears ceased not flowing, out of fear for\nhimself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan and for what\nhad befallen them in their strangerhood. So they travelled on with\nthe caravan, whilst the Chamberlain now rode by the door of his\nwife's litter, in attendance on Zoulmekan and the princess, and now\ngave an eye to the stoker, and Nuzhet ez Zeman and her brother\noccupied themselves with converse and mutual condolence; and so they\ndid till they came within three days' journey of Baghdad. Here they\nalighted at eventide and rested till the morning, when they woke\nand were about to load the beasts, when behold, there appeared\nafar off a great cloud of dust, that obscured the air, till it\nbecame as dark as night. Thereupon the Chamberlain cried out to\nthem to stay their preparations for departure, and mounting with\nhis officers rode forward in the direction of the dust-cloud.\nWhen they drew near it, they perceived under it a numerous army,\nlike the full flowing sea, with drums and flags and standards and\nhorsemen and footmen. The Chamberlain marvelled at this: and when\nthe troops saw him, there came forth from amongst them a troop of\nfive hundred horse, who fell upon him and his suite and\nsurrounded them, five for one; whereupon said he to them, \"What\nis the matter and what are these troops, that ye use us thus?\"\n\"Who art thou?\" asked they. \"Whence comest thou and whither art\nthou bound?\" And he answered, \"I am the Chamberlain of the\nViceroy of Damascus, King Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman,\nlord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorassan, and I bring tribute\nand presents from him to his father in Baghdad.\" When the\nhorsemen heard speak of King Omar, they let their kerchiefs fall\nover their faces and wept, saying, \"Alas! King Omar is dead, and\nhe died poisoned. But fare ye on, no harm shall befall you, and\njoin his Grand Vizier Dendan.\" When the Chamberlain heard this,\nhe wept sore and exclaimed, \"Alas, our disappointment in this our\njourney!\" Then he and his suite rode on, weeping, till they\nreached the main body of the army and sought access to the\nVizier Dendan, who called a halt and causing his pavilion to be\npitched, sat down on a couch therein and commanded to admit the\nChamberlain. Then he bade him be seated and questioned him; and\nhe replied that he was the Viceroy's Chamberlain of Damascus and\nwas bound to King Omar with presents and the tribute of Syria.\nThe Vizier wept at the mention of King Omar's name and said,\n\"King Omar is dead by poison, and the folk fell out amongst\nthemselves as to whom they should make king after him, so that\nthey were like to come to blows on this account; but the notables\nand grandees interposed and restored peace, and the people agreed\nto refer the matter to the decision of the four Cadis, who\nadjudged that we should go to Damascus and fetch thence the late\nking's son Sherkan and make him king over his father's realm.\nSome of them would have chosen his second son Zoulmekan, were it\nnot that he and his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman set out five years ago\nfor Mecca, and none knows what is become of them.\" When the\nChamberlain heard this, he knew that his wife had told him the\ntruth and grieved sore for the death of King Omar, what while he\nwas greatly rejoiced, especially at the arrival of Zoulmekan, for\nthat he would now become King of Baghdad in his father's room. So\nhe turned to the Vizier and said to him, \"Verily, your affair is\na wonder of wonders! Know, O chief Vizier, that here, where you\nhave encountered me, God giveth you rest from fatigue and\nbringeth you that you desire after the easiest of fashions, in\nthat He restoreth to you Zoulmekan and his sister Nuzhet ez\nZeman, whereby the matter is settled and made easy.\" When the\nVizier heard this, he rejoiced greatly and said, \"O Chamberlain,\ntell me their story and the reason of their having been so long\nabsent.\" So he repeated to him the whole story and told him that\nNuzhet ez Zeman was his wife. As soon as he had made an end of\nhis tale, the Vizier sent for the amirs and viziers and grandees\nand acquainted them with the matter; whereat they rejoiced\ngreatly and wondered at the happy chance. Then they went in to\nthe Chamberlain and did their service to him, kissing the earth\nbefore him; and the Vizier Dendan also rose and stood before him,\nin token of respect. After this the Chamberlain held a great\ncouncil, and he and the Vizier sat upon a throne, whilst all the\namirs and officers of state took their places before them,\naccording to their several ranks. Then they dissolved sugar in\nrose-water and drank, after which the amirs sat down to hold\ncouncil and bade the rest mount and ride forward leisurely, till\nthey should make an end of their deliberations and overtake them.\nSo the officers kissed the earth before them and mounting, rode\nonward, preceded by the standards of war. When the amirs had\nfinished their conference, they mounted and rejoined the troops;\nand the Chamberlain said to the Vizier Dendan, \"I think it well\nto ride on before you, that I may notify Zoulmekan of your coming\nand choice of him as Sultan over the head of his brother Sherkan,\nand that I may make him ready a place befitting his dignity.\" \"It\nis well thought,\" answered the Vizier. Then the Chamberlain rose\nand Dendan also rose, to do him honour, and brought him presents,\nwhich he conjured him to accept. On like wise did all the amirs\nand officers of state, calling down blessings on him and saying\nto him, \"Mayhap thou will make mention of our case to King\nZoulmekan and speak to him to continue us in our dignities.\" The\nChamberlain promised what they asked and the Vizier Dendan sent\nwith him tents and bade the tent-pitchers set them up at a days\njourney from the city. Then the Chamberlain mounted and rode\nforward, full of joy and saying in himself, \"How blessed is this\njourney!\" And indeed his wife was exalted in his eyes, she and\nher brother Zoulmekan. They made all haste, till they reached a\nplace distant a day's journey from Baghdad, where he called a\nhalt and bade his men alight and make ready a sitting place for\nthe Sultan Zoulmekan, whilst he rode forward with his pages and\nalighting at a distance from Nuzhet ez Zeman's litter, commanded\nthe eunuchs to ask the princess's leave to admit him. They did so\nand she gave leave; whereupon he went in to her and her brother\nand told them of the death of their father, King Omar ben\nEnnuman, and how the heads of the people had made Zoulmekan king\nover them in his stead; and he gave them joy of the kingdom. When\nthey heard this, they both wept for their father and asked the\nmanner of his death. \"The news rests with the Vizier Dendan,\"\nreplied the Chamberlain, \"who will be here to-morrow with all the\ntroops; and it only remains for thee, O prince, to do what they\ncounsel, since they have chosen thee King; for if thou do not\nthis, they will crown another, and thou canst not be sure of\nthyself with another king. Haply he will kill thee, or discord\nmay befall between you and the kingdom pass out of your hands.\"\nZoulmekan bowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, \"I\naccept;\" for indeed he saw that the Chamberlain had counselled\nhim rightly and that there was no refusing; \"but, O uncle, how\nshall I do with my brother Sherkan?\" \"O my son,\" replied the\nChamberlain, \"thy brother will be Sultan of Damascus, and thou\nSultan of Baghdad; so gird up thy resolution and prepare to do\nwhat befits thy case.\" Then he presented him with a suit of royal\nraiment and a dagger of state, that the Vizier Dendan had brought\nwith him, and leaving him, returned to the tent-pitchers and bade\nthem choose out a spot of rising ground and pitch thereon a\nspacious and splendid pavilion, wherein the Sultan might sit to\nreceive the amirs and grandees. Then he ordered the cooks to make\nready rich food and serve it up and the water-carriers to set up\nthe water-troughs. They did as he bade them and presently there\narose a cloud of dust and spread till it obscured the horizon.\nAfter awhile, the breeze dispersed it, and there appeared under\nit the army of Baghdad and Khorassan, led by the Vizier Dendan,\nall rejoicing in the accession of Zoulmekan. Now Zoulmekan had\ndonned the royal robes and girt himself with the sword of state:\nso the Chamberlain brought him a steed and he mounted, surrounded\nby the rest of the company on foot, and rode between the tents,\ntill he came to the royal pavilion, where he entered and sat\ndown, with the royal dagger across his thighs, whilst the\nChamberlain stood in attendance on him and his servants stationed\nthemselves in the vestibule of the pavilion, with drawn swords in\ntheir hands. Presently, up came the troops and sought admission\nto the King's presence; so the Chamberlain went in to Zoulmekan\nand asked his leave, whereupon he bade admit them, ten by ten.\nAccordingly, the Chamberlain went out to them and acquainted them\nwith the King's orders, to which they replied, \"We hear and\nobey.\" Then he took ten of them and carried them, through the\nvestibule, into the presence of the Sultan, whom when they saw,\nthey were awed; but he received them with the utmost kindness and\npromised them all good. So they gave him joy of his safe return\nand invoked God's blessing upon him, after which they took the\noath of fealty to him, and kissing the earth before him,\nwithdrew. Then other ten entered and he received them in the same\nmanner; and they ceased not to enter, ten by ten, till none was\nleft but the Vizier Dendan. So he went in and kissed the earth\nbefore Zoulmekan, who rose to meet him, saying, \"Welcome, O noble\nVizier and father! Verily, thine acts are those of a precious\ncounsellor, and judgment and foresight are in the hands of the\nSubtle, the All Wise.\" Then he commanded the Chamberlain to go\nout and cause the tables to be spread at once and bid the troops\nthereto. So they came and ate and drank. Moreover, he bade Dendan\ncall a ten days' halt of the army, that he might be private with\nhim and learn from him the manner of his father's death.\nAccordingly, the Vizier went forth and transmitted the King's\nwishes to the troops, who received his commands with submission\nand wished him eternity of glory. Moreover, he gave them leave to\ndivert themselves and ordered that none of the lords in waiting\nshould go in to the King for his service for the space of three\ndays. Then Zoulmekan waited till nightfall, when he went in to\nhis sister Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, \"Dost thou know the\nfashion of my father's death or not?\" \"I have no knowledge of\nit,\" replied she, and drew a silken curtain before herself,\nwhilst Zoulmekan seated himself without the curtain and sending\nfor the Vizier, bade him relate to him in detail the manner of\nKing Omar's death. \"Know then, O King,\" replied Dendan, \"that\nKing Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned to Baghdad from his\nhunting excursion, enquired for thee and thy sister, but could\nnot find you and knew that you had gone on the pilgrimage,\nwhereat he was greatly concerned and angered, and his breast was\ncontracted. He abode thus a whole year, seeking news of you from\nall who came and went, but none could give him any tidings of\nyou. At the end of this time, as we were one day in attendance\nupon him, there came to us an old woman, as she were a devotee,\naccompanied by five damsels, high-bosomed maids, like moons,\nendowed with such beauty and grace as the tongue fails to\ndescribe; and to crown their perfections, they knew the Koran by\nheart and were versed in various kinds of learning and in the\nhistories of bygone peoples. The old woman sought an audience of\nthe King, and he bade admit her; whereupon she entered and kissed\nthe ground before him. Now I was then sitting by his side, and\nhe, seeing in her the signs of devoutness and asceticism, made\nher draw near and sit down by him. So she sat down and said to\nhim, 'Know, O King, that with me are five damsels, whose like no\nking possesses, for they are endowed with beauty and grace and\nwit. They know the Koran and the traditions and are skilled in\nall manner of learning and in the history of bygone peoples. They\nare here before thee, at thy disposal; for it is by proof that\nfolk are prized or disdained.' Thy late father looked at the\ndamsels and their favour pleased him; so he said to them, 'Let\neach of you tell me something of what she knows of the history of\nbygone folk and peoples of times past.' Thereupon one of them\ncame forward and kissing the earth before him, spoke as follows,\n'Know, O King, that it behoves the man of good breeding to eschew\nimpertinence and adorn himself with excellencies, observing the\nDivine precepts and shunning mortal sins; and to this he should\napply himself with the assiduity of one who, if he stray\ntherefrom, is lost; for the foundation of good breeding is\nvirtuous behaviour. Know that the chief reason of existence is\nthe endeavour after life everlasting and the right way thereto is\nthe service of God: so it behoves thee to deal righteously with\nthe people; and swerve not from this rubrick, for the mightier\nfolk are in dignity, the more need they have of prudence and\nforesight; and indeed kings need this more than common folk, for\nthe general cast themselves into affairs, without taking thought\nto the issue of them. Be thou prodigal both of thyself and thy\ntreasure in the way of God and know that, if an enemy dispute\nwith thee, thou mayst litigate with him and refute him with proof\nand ward thyself against him; but as for thy friend, there is\nnone can judge between thee and him but righteousness and\nfair-dealing. Wherefore, choose thy friend for thyself, after\nthou hast proved him. If he be a man of religion, let him be\nzealous in observing the external letter of the Law and versed in\nits inner meaning, as far as may be: and if he be a man of the\nworld, let him be free-born, sincere, neither ignorant nor\nperverse, for the ignorant man is such that even his parents\nmight well flee from him, and a liar cannot be a true friend, for\nthe word \"friend\"[FN#66] is derived from \"truth,\"[FN#67] that\nemanates from the bottom of the heart; and how can this be the\ncase, when falsehood is manifest upon the tongue? Know,\ntherefore, that the observance of the Law profits him who\npractices it: so love thy brother, if he be after this fashion,\nand do not cast him off, even if thou see in him that which thou\nmislikest; for a friend is not like a wife whom one can divorce\nand take again; but his heart is like glass; once broken, it\ncannot be mended. And God bless him who says:\n\nBe careful not to hurt men's hearts nor work them aught of dole,\n     For hard it is to bring again a once estranged soul;\nAnd hearts, indeed, whose loves in twain by discord have been\n     rent Are like a broken glass, whose breach may never be made\n     whole.\n\nThe wise say (continued she), \"The best of friends is he who is\nthe most assiduous in good counsel, the best of actions is that\nwhich is fairest in its result, and the best of praise is (not)\nthat which is in the mouths of men.\" It is said also, \"It behoves\nnot the believer to neglect to thank God, especially for two\nfavours, health and reason.\" Again, \"He who honoureth himself,\nhis lust is a light matter to him, and he who makes much of small\ntroubles, God afflicts him with great ones: he who obeys his own\ninclination neglects his duties and he who listens to the\nslanderer loses the true friend. He who thinks well of thee, do\nthou fulfil his thought of thee. He who exceeds in contention\nsins, and he who does not beware of upright is not safe from the\nsword.\"\n\nNow will I tell thee somewhat of the duties of judges. Know, O\nKing, that no judgment serves the cause of justice except it be\ngiven after deliberation, and it behoves the judge to treat all\npeople alike, to the intent that the rich and noble may not be\nencouraged to oppression nor the poor and weak despair of\njustice. He should extract proof from him who complains and\nimpose an oath upon him who denies; and compromise is lawful\nbetween Muslims, except it be a compromise sanctioning an\nunlawful or forbidding a lawful thing. If he have done aught\nduring the day, of which he is doubtful, the judge should\nreconsider it and apply his discernment to elucidating it, that\n(if he have erred) he may revert to the right, for to do justice\nis a religious obligation and to return to that which is right is\nbetter than perseverance in error. Then he should study the\nprecedents and the law of the case and do equal justice between\nthe suitors, fixing his eye upon the truth and committing his\naffair to God, to whom belong might and majesty. Let him require\nproof of the complainant, and if he adduce it, let him put the\ndefendant to his oath; for this is the ordinance of God. He\nshould receive the testimony of competent Muslim witnesses, one\nagainst another, for God the Most High hath commanded judges to\njudge by externals, He Himself taking charge of the secret\nthings. It behoves the judge also to avoid giving judgment,\nwhilst suffering from stress of pain or hunger, and that in his\ndecisions between the folk he seek to please God, for he whose\nintent is pure and who is at peace with his conscience, God shall\nguarantee him against what is between him and the people. Quoth\nEz Zuhri,[FN#68] \"There are three things, which if they be found\nin a Cadi, he should be deposed; namely, if he honour the base,\nlove praise and fear dismissal.\" It is related that Omar ben\nAbdulaziz once deposed a Cadi, who asked him why he had done so.\n\"It has come to my knowledge,\" replied Omar, \"that thy speech is\ngreater than thy condition.\" It is said also that Iskender[FN#69]\nsaid to his Cadi, \"I have invested thee with this function and\ncommitted to thee in it my soul and my honour and manhood; so do\nthou guard it with thy soul and thine understanding.\" To his cook\nhe said, \"Thou art the governor of my body; so look thou tender\nit.\" To his secretary he said, \"Thou art the controller of my\nwit: so do thou watch over me in what thou writest for me.\"'\n\nWith this the first damsel retired and a second one came forward\nand kissing the earth seven times before the King thy father,\nspoke as follows: 'The sage Lucman[FN#70] said to his son, \"There\nare three men whom thou shalt not know, but in three several\ncases; thou shalt not know the merciful man but in time of anger,\nnor the brave man but in time of war nor thy friend but when thou\nhast need of him.\" It is said that the oppressor shall repent,\nthough the people praise him, and that the oppressed is safe,\nthough the people blame him. Quoth God the Most High, \"[FN#71]\nThink not that those who rejoice in their deeds and love to be\npraised for that which they have not done, shall escape\npunishment; indeed there is reserved for them a grievous\npunishment.\" Quoth Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation),\n\"Works are according to intentions, and to each man is attributed\nthat which he intends.\" He saith also, \"There is a part of the\nhuman body, which being whole, all the rest is whole, and which\nbeing corrupt, the whole body is corrupt; it is the heart. And\nindeed the heart is the most marvellous part of man, since it is\nthat which ordereth his whole affair; if covetise stir in it,\ndesire destroys him, and if affliction master it, anguish slays\nhim: if anger rage in it, danger is sore upon him, and if it be\nblest with contentment, he is safe from discontent; if fear\novertake it, he is filled with mourning, and if calamity smite\nit, affliction betideth him. If a man gain wealth, his heart is\nperadventure diverted thereby from the remembrance of his Lord,\nand if poverty afflict him, his heart is distracted by care, or\nif disquietude waste his heart, weakness reduces him to\nimpotence. So, in any case, there is nothing will profit him but\nthat he be mindful of God and occupy himself with gaining his\nliving and securing his place in Paradise.\" It was asked of a\ncertain wise man, \"Who is the most ill-conditioned of men?\" \"He,\"\nreplied the sage, \"whose lusts master his manhood and whose mind\nexceeds in the pursuit of objects of high emprise, so that his\nknowledge increases and his excuse diminishes; and how excellent\nis what the poet says:\n\nThe freest of all men from need of the arrogant meddler am I, The\n     fool who's unguided of God and judges the folk all awry;\nFor wealth and good gifts are a loan and each man at last shall\n     be clad As it were in a mantle, with that which hid in his\n     bosom doth lie.\nIf thou enter on aught by a door that is other than right, thou\n     wilt err; But the right door will dead thee aright, for\n     sure, if thou enter there by.\"\n\nAs for anecdotes of devotees (continued the maiden), quoth Hisham\nben Besher, \"I said to Omar ben Ubeid, 'What is true devoutness?'\nand he answered, 'The Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) hath\nexpounded it, when he says, \"The devout is he who takes thought\nto death and calamity and prefers that which is eternal to that\nwhich passes away, who counts not the morrow as of his days, but\nreckons himself among the dead.\"'\" And it is related that Abou\nDherr[FN#72] used to say, \"Poverty is dearer to me than riches\nand sickness than health.\" Quoth one of the listeners, \"May God\nhave mercy on Abou Dherr! For my part, I say, 'He who puts his\ntrust in the goodness of the election of God the Most High should\nbe content with that condition of which the Almighty hath made\nchoice for him.'\" Quoth one of the Companions (of the Prophet),\n\"Ibn Ali Aqfa[FN#73] prayed with us the morning-prayer one day.\nWhen he had done, he read the seventy-fourth chapter (of the\nKoran), beginning, 'O thou that coverest thyself!' till he came\nto where God says, 'When the trumpet is blown,' and fell down\ndead.\" It is said that Thabit el Benani wept till he well nigh\nlost his eyes. They brought him a man to tend him, who said to\nhim, \"I will cure thee, provided thou do my bidding.\" \"In what\nrespect?\" asked Thabit. \"In that thou leave weeping,\" replied the\nphysician. \"What is the use of my eyes,\" rejoined Thabit, \"if\nthey do not weep?\" Said a man to Mohammed ibn Abdallah, \"Exhort\nme.\" \"I exhort thee,\" replied he, \"to be an abstinent possessor\nin this world and a greedy slave in the next.\" \"How so?\" asked\nthe other; and Mohammed said, \"The abstinent man in this world\npossesses both this world and the world to come.\" Quoth Ghauth\nben Abdallah, \"There were two brothers among the people of\nIsrael, one of whom said to the other, 'What is the worst thing\nthou hast done?' 'One day,' answered the other, 'I came upon a\nnest of young birds; so I took out one and threw it back into the\nnest; but the others drew apart from it. This is the worst thing\nI ever did; so now tell me what is the worst thing thou hast ever\ndone.' 'When I betake myself to prayer,' rejoined the first, 'I\nam fearful to have done so only for the sake of the reward. This\nis the worst thing I have done.' Now their father heard what they\nsaid and exclaimed, 'O my God, if they speak the truth, take them\nto Thyself!' Quoth one of the wise men, 'Verily these were of the\nmost virtuous of children.'\" Quoth Said ben Jubeir,[FN#74] \"I was\nonce in company with Fuzaleh ibn Ubeid and said to him, 'Give me\nsome good counsel.' 'Bear in mind these two things,' replied he.\n'Attribute no partner to God, and do no hurt to any of His\ncreatures.' And he repeated the following verses:\n\nBe as thou wilt and banish dread and care, For God is bountiful\n     and debonair;\nSo of two things, the doing hurt to men And giving God a partner,\n     thou beware.\"\n\nAnd how well saith the poet:\n\nIf thou neglect with pious works for death to furnish thee And\n     after meet with one equipped with store of piety,\nThou wilt, when all too late, repent that thou wert not like him\n     And didst not for the other world make ready as did he.'\n\nThen the second damsel withdrew and a third came forward and\nspoke as follows. 'Indeed, the chapter of piety is a very wide\none; but I will mention what occurs to me thereof, concerning\npious men of old time. Quoth a certain holy man, \"I rejoice in\ndeath, though I am not assured of ease therein, save that I know\ndeath interposes between a man and his works; so I hope for\nmultiplication of good works and cessation of evil ones.\" Itaa es\nSelemi, when he had made an end of an exhortation, was wont to\ntremble and weep sore. It was asked him why he did this and he\nreplied, \"I purpose (or am about) to enter upon a grave matter,\nand it is the standing up before God the Most High, to do in\naccordance with my exhortation.\" In like manner Zein el\nAabidin[FN#75] was wont to tremble when he rose to pray. Being\nasked the reason of this, he replied, \"Do ye not know before whom\nI stand and to whom I address myself?\" It is said that there\nlived near Sufyan eth Thauri[FN#76] a blind man who, when the\nmonth of Ramazan came, went out with the folk to pray, but\nremained silent and hung back (in repeating the prayers). Said\nSufyan, \"On the Day of Resurrection, he shall come with the\npeople of the Koran[FN#77] and they will be distinguished from\ntheir fellows by excess of honour.\" Quoth Sufyan, \"Were the soul\nstablished in the heart as it befits, it would fly away, for joy\nand longing for Paradise and grief and fear of hell-fire.\" It is\nrelated also of Sufyan that he said, \"To look upon the face of a\ntyrant is a sin.\"'\n\nThen the third damsel retired and a fourth came forward, who\nsaid, 'I will treat of sundry traditions of pious men. It is\nrelated that Bishr el Hafi[FN#78] said, \"I once heard Khalid\nsay, 'Beware of secret hypocrisy.' Quoth I, 'What is secret\nhypocrisy?' He answered, 'When one of you, in praying, prolongs\nhis inclinations and prostrations till a cause of impurity[FN#79]\ncome upon him.'\" Quoth one of the sages, \"The doing of good works\nexpiates evil deeds.\" Quoth Ibrahim ben Adhem[FN#80], \"I sought\nassiduously of Bishr el Hafi that he should acquaint me with some\nof the theological mysteries; but he said, 'O my son, it behoves\nus not to teach this knowledge to every one; of every hundred,\nfive, even as the poor-rate upon money.' I thought his answer\nexcellent, and when I went to pray, I saw Bishr praying: so I\nstood behind him, inclining myself in prayer, till the Muezzin\nmade his call. Then rose a man of poor appearance and said, 'O\nfolk, beware of truth, when it is hurtful, for there is no harm\nin beneficial falsehood, and in compulsion is no choice: speech\nprofits not in the absence of good qualities nor is there any\nhurt in silence, when they exist.' Presently I saw Bishr drop a\ndanic[FN#81] so I picked it up and exchanged it for a dirhem,\nwhich I gave him. 'I will not take it,' said he. Quoth I, 'It is\na fair exchange;' but he answered, 'I cannot barter the riches of\nthe world to come for those of this world.'\" It is reported also\nthat Bishr's sister once went to Ahmed ben Hembel[FN#82] and said\nto him, \"O Imam of the Faith, we are a family that work for our\nliving by day and spin thread by night; and oftentimes, the\ncressets of the watch of Baghdad pass by and we on the roof\nspinning by their light. Is this forbidden to us?\" \"Who art\nthou?\" asked Ahmed. \"I am the sister of Bishr el Hafi,\" replied\nshe. \"O household of Bishr,\" rejoined the Imam, \"I shall never\ncease to quafl full draughts of piety and continence from your\nhearts.\" Quoth one of the learned, \"When God wills well to\nany man, he opens upon him the gate of action.\" Malik ibn\nDinar,[FN#83] when he passed through the bazaar and saw aught\nthat he wished for, was wont to say, \"O soul, take patience, for\nI will not accord to thee what thou desirest.\" He said also (may\nGod accept of him), \"The salvation of the soul lies in resistance\nto its desires and its ruin in submission to them.\" Quoth Mensour\nben Ammar,[FN#84] \"I set out one year on the pilgrimage and was\nmaking for Mecca by way of Cufa, when, one overcast night, I\nheard a voice crying out from the womb of the night and saying,\n'O my God, by Thy power and Thy glory, I meant not by my\ndisobedience to transgress against Thee, for indeed I am not\nignorant of Thee; but my fault is one Thou didst foreordain to me\nfrom all eternity; so do Thou pardon me my sin, for indeed I\ndisobeyed Thee of my ignorance!' When he had made an end of his\nprayer, he recited aloud the verse, 'O ye who believe, keep\nyourselves and your households from the fire whose fuel is men\nand stones!\"[FN#85] Then I heard a fall, but knew not what it was\nand passed on. On the morrow, as we went our way, we fell in with\na funeral train, followed by an old woman, whose strength had\nleft her. I questioned her of the dead, and she replied, 'This is\nthe funeral of a man who passed by us yesterday, whilst my son\nwas standing at prayer. The latter recited a verse from the Book\nof God the Most High, when behold the man's gall-bladder burst\nand he fell dead.'\"\n\nTherewith the fourth damsel retired and the fifth, coming\nforward, spoke as follows: 'I also will repeat what occurs to me\nin the way of devotional anecdotes. Meslemeh ben Dinar used to\nsay, \"The making sound the secret thoughts covers sins, both\ngreat and small, and when the believer is resolved to leave\nsinning, help comes to him.\" Also, \"Every piece of good fortune,\nthat does not draw one nearer to God, is a calamity, for a little\nof this world distracts from a great deal of the world to come\nand a great deal of the first makes thee forget the whole of the\nlatter.\" It was asked of Abou Hazim,[FN#86] \"Who is the most\nfortunate of men?\" \"He who spends his life in the service of\nGod,\" replied he. \"And who is the most foolish of mankind?\" asked\nthe other. \"He who sells his part in the world to come for the\nworldly goods of others,\" answered Abou Hazim. It is reported\nthat Moses (on whom be peace), when he came to the waters of\nMidian, exclaimed, \"O my Lord, indeed I am in need of that which\nThou sendest down to me of good!\" And he asked of his Lord and\nnot of his folk. There came two damsels and he drew water for\nthem and gave not precedence to the shepherds. When they returned\nto their father Jethro (on whom be peace!) they told him, and he\nsaid to one of them, \"Haply, he is hungry: go back to him and bid\nhim hither.\" So she covered her face and returning to Moses, said\nto him, \"My father bids thee to him, that he may reward thee for\nhaving drawn water for us.\" Moses was averse to this and\nunwilling to follow her. Now she was a woman large in the\nbuttocks, and the wind blowing upon her gown, discovered this;\nwhich when Moses saw, he lowered his eyes and said to her, \"Do\nthou walk behind me.\" So she followed him, till he came to\nJethro's house, where the evening meal was ready. \"O Moses,\" said\nJethro, \"I desire to reward thee for having drawn water for\nthem.\" But he answered, \"I am of a people who sell nothing of the\nfashion of the next world for earthly gold and silver.\" \"O\nyouth,\" rejoined Jethro, \"nevertheless thou art my guest, and it\nis my wont and that of my fathers to do honour to the guest by\nsetting food before him.\" So Moses sat down and ate. Then Jethro\nhired Moses for eight pilgrimages, that is to say, eight years,\nand appointed to him for hire the hand of his daughter, and\nMoses' service to him was to stand for her dowry. As says the\nHoly Writ of him (quoth Jethro), \"I am minded to marry thee to\none of these my daughters, on condition that thou serve me eight\nyears, and if thou serve out the ten, it will be of thine own\nwill, for I do not wish to press hardly on thee.\"[FN#87] A\ncertain man once said to one of his friends, \"Thou hast made me\ndesolate, for that I have not seen thee this long while.\" Quoth\nthe other, \"I have been distracted from thee by Ibn Shihab; dost\nthou know him?\" \"Yes,\" replied the first; \"he hath been my\nneighbour these thirty years, but I have never spoken to him.\"\n\"Indeed,\" rejoined his friend, \"thou forgettest God in forgetting\nthy neighbour! If thou lovedst God, thou wouldst love thy\nneighbour. Knowst thou not that a neighbour has a claim upon his\nneighbour, even as the right of kindred?\" Quoth Hudheifeh, \"We\nentered Mecca with Ibrahim ben Adhem,[FN#88] and whilst making\nthe prescribed circuits about the Kaabeh, we met with Shekic the\nBalkhi. Quoth Ibrahim to Shekic, 'What is your fashion in your\ncountry?' 'When we are vouchsafed [food],' replied he, 'we eat,\nand when we suffer hunger, we take patience.' 'This is the\nfashion of the dogs of Balkh,' rejoined Ibrahim. 'But we, when we\nare blest with plenty, we do honour to God, and when we suffer\nfamine, we praise Him.' And Shekic seated himself before Ibrahim\nand said to him, 'Thou art my master.'\" Quoth Mohammed ben Amran,\n\"A man once asked of Hatim el Asemm[FN#89], 'What maketh thee to\ntrust in God?' 'Two things,' replied he, 'I know that what God\nhas appointed for my daily bread shall be eaten by none but\nmyself; so my heart is at rest as to that; and I know that I was\nnot created without God's knowledge and am abashed before Him.'\"\n\nThen the fifth damsel retired and the old woman came forward and\nkissing the earth before thy father nine times, spoke as follows:\n'Thou hast heard, O King, what these all have said on the subject\nof piety; and I will follow their example in relating what I have\nheard of the famous men of times past. It is said that the Imam\nes Shafi[FN#90] divided the night into three portions, the first\nfor study, the second for sleep and the third for prayer. The\nImam Abou Henifeh[FN#91] was wont also to pass half the night in\nprayer. One day a man pointed him out to another, as he passed,\nand said, \"Yonder man watches the whole night.\" Quoth Abou\nHenifeh, \"When I heard this, I was abashed before God, to hear\nmyself praised for what was not in me; so, after this, I used to\nwatch the whole night.\" Er Rebya relates that Es Shafi used to\nrecite the whole Koran seventy times over during the month of\nRamazan, and that in prayer. Quoth Es Shafi (may God accept of\nhim!), \"For ten years I never ate my fill of barley-bread, for\nsatiety hardens the heart and deadens the wit and induces sleep\nand enfeebles one from standing up (to pray).\" It is reported of\nAbdallah ben Mohammed es Sekra that he said, \"I was once talking\nwith Omar, and he said to me, 'Never saw I a more God-fearing or\neloquent man than Mohammed ben Idris es Shafi. I went out one day\nwith El Harith ben Lebib es Suffar, who was a disciple of El\nMuzeni[FN#92] and had a fine voice, and he read the saying or the\nMost High, 'On that day, they shall not speak nor shall it be\npermitted to them to excuse themselves.'[FN#93] I saw Es Shafi's\ncolour change; his skin shuddered, and he was violently moved and\nfell down senseless. When he revived, he said, 'I seek refuge\nwith God from the stead of the liars and the fate of the\nnegligent! O my God, the hearts of the wise abase themselves\nbefore Thee. O my God, of Thy goodness, accord to me the\nremission of my sins, adorn me with Thy protection and pardon me\nmy shortcomings, by the magnanimity of Thine essence!' Then I\nrose and went away.\" Quoth one of the pious, \"When I entered\nBaghdad, Es Shafi was there. I sat down on the river-bank, to\nmake the ablution before prayer; and as I was thus occupied,\nthere came up one who said to me, 'O youth, make thine ablution\nwell and God will make it well for thee in this world and the\nworld to come.' I turned and saw a man, with a company of people\nafter him. So I hastened to finish my ablutions and followed him.\nPresently, he turned and said to me, 'Dost thou want aught?'\n'Yes,' answered I; 'I desire that thou teach me somewhat of that\nwhich God the Most High hath taught thee.' 'Know, then,' said he,\n'that he who believes in God the Most High shall be saved and he\nwho is jealous of his faith shall be delivered from destruction,\nand he who practices abstinence in this world, his eyes shall be\nsolaced on the morrow (of death). Shall I tell thee any more?'\n'Assuredly,' replied I. 'Abstain from the things of this world,'\ncontinued he, 'and be greedy of the good of the world to come. Be\nsincere and faithful in all thy dealings, and thou shalt be saved\nwith the elect.' Then he went on and I asked about him and was\ntold that he was the Imam es Shafi. Es Shafi was wont to say, \"I\nwould have the folk profit by this wisdom (of mine), on condition\nthat none of it be attributed to me.\" Also, \"I never disputed\nwith any one, but I would that God the Most High should give him\nthe knowledge of the Truth and aid him to expound it; nor did I\never dispute with any, but for the showing forth of the Truth,\nand I recked not whether God should manifest it by my lips or\nhis.\" He said also (may God accept of him!), \"If thou fear to\ngrow conceited of thy learning, bethink thee Whose grace thou\nseekest and what good it is thou yearnest after and what\npunishment thou dreadest.\" It was told to Abou Henifeh that the\nCommander of the Faithful Abou Jaafer el Mensour had named him\nCadi and ordered him a present of ten thousand dirhems; but he\nwould not accept of this; and when the day came on which the\nmoney was to be paid, he prayed the morning-prayer, then covered\nhis head with his cloak and spoke not. When the Khalif's\nmessenger came with the money, he went in to the Imam and\naccosted him, but he would not speak to him. Quoth the messenger,\n\"This money is lawfully thine.\" \"I know that it is lawfully\nmine,\" replied the Imam; \"but I abhor that the love of tyrants\nshould take hold upon my heart.\" \"Canst thou not go in to them\nand guard thyself from loving them?\" asked the other. \"Can I look\nto enter the sea, without wetting my clothes?\" answered Abou\nHenifeh. Another of Es Shafi's sayings is as follows:\n\nO soul, if thou be fain to do as I shall say, Thou shalt be free\n     from need and great of grace for aye.\nPut far away from thee ambitions and desires, For lo, how oft a\n     wish to death hath led the way!\n\nAmong the sayings of Sufyan eth Thauri, with which he admonished\nAli ben el Hassan es Selemi was the following, \"Look that thou\npractice sincerity and beware of falsehood and treachery and\nhypocrisy and presumption for God annuls good works with either\nof these things. Borrow not but of Him who is merciful to His\ndebtors and let thy comrade be one who will cause thee to abstain\nfrom the world. Let the thought of death be ever present with\nthee and be constant in asking pardon of God and beseeching of\nHim peace for what remains of thy life. Give loyal counsel to\nevery true-believer, when he asks thee concerning the things of\nhis faith, and beware of betraying a believer, for he who betrays\na believer betrays God and His apostle. Avoid dissension and\nlitigation and leave that which awakens doubt in thee, betaking;,\nthyself rather to those things that will not disquiet thee; so\nshalt thou be at peace. Enjoin that which is just and forbid that\nwhich is evil, so shalt thou be beloved of God. Make fair thine\ninner man, and God shall make fair thine outer man. Accept the\nexcuse of him who excuses himself to thee and hate none of the\ntrue-believers. Draw near unto those that reject thee and forgive\nthose that oppress thee; so shalt thou be the companion of the\nprophets. Commit thine affair to God, both in public and in\nprivate, and fear Him with the fear of one who knows that he must\ndie and be raised again to stand before the Almighty, remembering\nthat thou art destined for one of two dwellings, either Paradise\nthe glorious or the flaming fire.\"' Having spoken thus, the old\nwoman sat down beside the damsels.\n\nWhen the late King thy father heard their discourse, he knew that\nthey were the most accomplished of the people of their time and\nseeing their beauty and grace and the greatness of their\nlearning, he showed them all favour. Moreover, he turned to the\nold woman and entreated her with honour, setting apart for her\nand her damsels the palace that had been the lodging of the\nprincess Abrizeh, to which he let carry all that they needed of\nthe best. Here they abode ten days, and whenever the King visited\nthem, he found the old woman absorbed in prayer, watching by\nnight and fasting by day; wherefore love of her took hold upon\nhis heart and he said to me, 'O Vizier, verily this old woman is\na pious soul, and reverence for her is strong in my heart.' On\nthe eleventh day, the King visited her, that he might pay her the\nprice of the five damsels; but she said to him, 'O King, know\nthat the price of these passes the competence of men, for I seek\nfor them neither gold nor silver nor jewels, be it little or\nmuch.' The King wondered at this and said, 'O my lady, what is\ntheir price?' 'I will not sell them to thee,' replied she, 'save\non condition that thou fast a whole month, watching by night and\nfasting by day for the love of God the Most High: but if thou\nwilt do this, they are thine, to use as thou pleasest.' The King\nwondered at the perfectness of her piety and devotion and\nabnegation and she was magnified in his eyes, and he said, 'May\nGod make this pious old woman to profit us!' So he agreed to her\nproposal, and she said to him, 'I will help thee with my\nprayers.' Then she called for a gugglet of water and muttered\nover it words in an unknown language and abode awhile, speaking\nover it things that we understood not. Then she covered it with a\ncloth and sealing it up, gave it to the King, saying, 'When thou\nhas fasted ten days, break thy fast on the eleventh night with\nwhat is in this cup, for it will root out the love of the world\nfrom thy heart and fill it with light and faith. As for me, I\npurpose to go out to-morrow to visit my brethren of the invisible\nworld, for I yearn after them, and I will return to thee when the\nten days are past.' So the King took the gugglet and setting it\napart in a closet of his palace, locked the door and put the key\nin his pocket. Next day, the old woman departed and the King\nentered upon his fast. When he had accomplished the first ten\ndays thereof, he opened the gugglet and drank what was therein\nand found it cordial to his stomach. Within the next ten days,\nthe old woman returned, bringing sweetmeats wrapped in a green\nleaf, like no leaf of a tree. She went in to the King and saluted\nhim; and when he saw her he rose to meet her, saying, 'Welcome, O\npious lady!' 'O King,' said she, 'the spirits salute thee, for I\ntold them of thee, and they rejoiced in thee and have sent thee\nthis cake, which is of the sweetmeats of the other world. Do thou\nbreak thy fast on it at the end of the day.' The King rejoiced\ngreatly at this and exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath given me\nbrethren of the invisible world!' And he thanked the old woman\nand kissed her hands and entreated her and the damsels with\nexceeding honour. Then he fasted till twenty days were past, at\nthe end of which time the old woman came to him and said, 'Know,\nO King, that I told the spirits of the love that is between thee\nand me and how I had left the damsels with thee, and they were\nglad that the damsels should belong to a King like thee; for they\nwere wont, when they saw them, to be strenuous in offering up\neffectual prayer on their behalf. So I would fain carry them to\nthe spirits, that they may benefit by their favours, and they\nshall surely not return to thee without some treasure of the\ntreasures of the earth, that thou, after the completion of thy\nfast, mayst occupy thyself with their dress and help thyself to\nthe fulfilment of thy wishes with that which they shall bring\nthee.' The King thanked her and said, 'But that I fear to cross\nthee, I would not accept the treasure or aught else: but when\nwilt thou set out with them?' 'On the seven-and-twentieth night,'\nreplied she; 'and I will bring them back to thee at the end of\nthe month, by which time thou wilt have accomplished thy fast and\nthey will have had their courses and be free from impurity. Then\nthey shall become thine and be at thy disposal. By Allah, each\none of them is worth many times thy kingdom!' 'I know it, O pious\nlady,' replied the King. Then said the old woman, 'If there be\nany one in thy palace who is dear to thee, thou wouldst do well\nto send her with me, that she may find solace and seek a blessing\nof the spirits.' Quoth the King, 'I have a Greek slave called\nSufiyeh, by whom God hath vouchsafed me two children, a son and a\ndaughter: but they were lost years ago. Take her with thee, that\nshe may get the spirits' blessing: it may be they will pray God\nfor her, that her children may be restored to her.' 'It is well,'\nreplied the old woman; for indeed this was what she most desired.\nThe King gave not over fasting till the seven-and-twentieth\nnight, when the old woman said to him, 'O my son, I am about to\ngo to the spirits; so bring me Sufiyeh.' Accordingly, he sent for\nher and delivered her to the old woman, who placed her with the\nother damsels. Then she went in to her chamber and bringing out a\nsealed cup, presented it to the King, saying, 'On the thirtieth\nday, do thou go to the bath and when thou comest out, enter one\nof the closets in thy palace and drink the liquor that is in this\ncup. Then sleep, and thou shalt attain what thou seekest, and\npeace be on thee!' The King was glad and thanked her and kissed\nher hands. Quoth she, 'I commend thee to God;' and he said, 'When\nshall I see thee again, O pious lady? Indeed I love not to part\nwith thee.' Then she called down blessings on him and departed\nwith the five damsels and the Princess Sufiyeh; whilst the King\nfasted other three days, till the end of the month, when he went\nto the bath and coming out, shut himself up in a closet,\ncommanding that none should go in to him. Then he drank what was\nin the cup and lay down to sleep. We sat awaiting him till the\nend of the day, but he did not come out and we said, 'Belike he\nis tired with the bath and with watching by night and fasting by\nday, and sleepeth.' So we waited till next day; but still he did\nnot come out. Then we stood at the closet-door and cried aloud,\nso haply he might awake and ask what was the matter. But nothing\ncame of this: so at last we lifted the door off its hinges and\ngoing in, found the King dead, with his flesh torn into strips\nand his bones broken in pieces. When we saw him in this case, it\nwas grievous to us, and we took up the cup and found in its cover\na piece of paper, on which was written the following, 'He who\ndoes evil leaves no regrets behind him. This is the reward of him\nwho plays the traitor with kings' daughters and debauches them:\nand we make known to all who happen upon this scroll that\nSherkan, when he came to our country, debauched our Princess\nAbrizeh; nor did this suffice him, but he must take her from us\nand bring her to you. Then he (Omar ben Ennuman) (debauched her\nand) sent her away, in company of a black slave, who slew her and\nwe found her lying dead in the desert. This is none of kings'\nfashion, and he who did this is requited with nought but his\ndeserts. So do ye suspect none of having killed him, for none\nslew him but the cunning witch, whose name is Dhat ed Dewahi. And\nbehold, I have taken the King's wife Sufiyeh and have carried her\nto her father King Afridoun of Constantinople. Moreover, we will\nassuredly make war upon you and kill you and take your land from\nyou, and ye shall be cut off even to the last man, nor shall\nthere be left of you a living soul, no, nor a blower of the fire,\nexcept he serve the Cross and the Girdle.' When we read this, we\nknew that the old woman had cheated us and carried out her plot\nagainst us: so we cried out and buffeted our faces and wept sore.\nHowever, weeping availed us nothing and the troops fell out as to\nwhom they should make Sultan. Some would have thee and others thy\nbrother Sherkan; and we ceased not to wrangle about this for the\nspace of a month, at the end of which time certain of us drew\ntogether and agreed to repair to thy brother Sherkan. So we set\nout and journeyed on till we fell in with thee: and this is the\nmanner of the death of King Omar ben Ennuman.'\n\nWhen the Vizier had made an end of his story, Zoulmekan and his\nsister wept, and the Chamberlain wept also. Then said the latter\nto Zoulmekan, \"O King, weeping will profit thee nothing; nor will\naught avail thee but that thou fortify thy heart and strengthen\nthy resolution and stablish thy power; for verily he is not dead\nwho leaves the like of thee behind him.\" So Zoulmekan gave over\nweeping and causing his throne to be set up without the pavilion,\ncommanded the army to pass in review before him. Then he sat down\non the throne, with the Chamberlain by his side and all the\narm-bearers behind him, whilst the Vizier Dendan and the rest of\nthe amirs and grandees stood before him, each in his several\nroom. Then said Zoulmekan to Dendan, \"Acquaint me with the\nparticulars of my father's treasures.\" Dendan answered, \"I hear\nand obey,\" and gave him to know the amount and nature of the late\nKing's treasure and what was in the treasury of money and jewels\nand other precious things. So Zoulmekan gave largesse to the army\nand bestowed a sumptuous dress of honour on the Vizier Dendan,\nsaying, \"I confirm thee in thine office.\" Whereupon Dendan kissed\nthe earth before him and wished him long life. Then he bestowed\ndresses of honour on the amirs, after which he turned to the\nChamberlain and said, \"Bring out before us the tribute of\nDamascus, that is with thee.\" So he laid before him the chests of\nmoney and jewels and rarities, and he took them and divided them\nall amongst the troops, till there was nothing left. And the\namirs kissed the ground before him and wished him long life,\nsaying, \"Never saw we a king, who gave the like of these gifts.\"\nThen they all went away to their own tents, and when it was\nmorning, Zoulmekan gave orders for departure. So they set out and\njourneyed for three days, till on the fourth day they drew near\nto Baghdad. When they entered the city, they found it decorated,\nand King Zoulmekan went up to his father's palace and sat down on\nthe throne, whilst the amirs of the army and the Vizier Dendan\nand the Chamberlain of Damascus stood before him. Then he bade\nhis private secretary write a letter to his brother Sherkan,\nacquainting him with all that had passed and adding, \"As soon as\nthou hast read this letter, make ready thine affair and join us\nwith thine army, that we may make war upon the infidels and take\nvengeance on them for our father and wipe out the stain upon our\nhonour.\" Then he folded the letter and sealed it and said to\nDendan, \"None shall carry this letter but thou; and I would have\nthee speak my brother fair and say to him, 'If thou have a mind\nto thy father's kingdom, it is thine, and thy brother shall be\nViceroy for thee in Damascus; for to this effect am I instructed\nby him.\"' So the Vizier went out from before him and proceeded\nto make ready for his journey. Then Zoulmekan set apart a\nmagnificent house for the stoker and furnished it with sumptuous\nfurniture and lodged him therein. One day, he went out a-hunting\nand as he was returning to Baghdad, one of the amirs presented\nhim with horses of fine breeds and damsels whose beauty beggars\ndescription. One of the damsels pleased him: so he went in to her\nand lay with her, and she conceived by him forthright. After\nawhile, the Vizier Dendan returned from Damascus, bringing him\nnews of his brother Sherkan and that he was then on his way to\nhim, and said to him, \"Thou wouldst do well to go out to meet\nhim.\" Zoulmekan replied, \"I hear and obey;\" and riding forth with\nhis grandees a day's journey from Baghdad, pitched his tents and\nhalted to await the coming of his brother. Next morning, the army\nof Syria appeared, with King Sherkan in its midst, a bold\ncavalier, a fierce lion and a warrior against whom none might\nmake head. As the squadrons drew nigh and the dust-clouds neared\nand the troops came up with banners flying, Zoulmekan and his\nattendants rode forward to meet Sherkan; and when the King saw\nhis brother, he would have dismounted, but Sherkan conjured him\nnot to do so and himself set foot to the ground and walked\ntowards him. As soon as he reached Zoulmekan, the latter threw\nhimself upon him, and they embraced and wept and condoled with\none another. Then they mounted and rode onward, they and their\ntroops, till they reached Baghdad, where they alighted and went\nup to the royal palace and passed the night there. Next morning,\nZoulmekan went forth and bade proclaim a holy war and summon the\ntroops from all parts. They abode a whole month, awaiting the\ncoming of the levies, whilst the folk poured in from all parts of\nthe kingdom, and every one who came they entreated with honour\nand munificence and promised him all manner of good. Then Sherkan\nsaid to Zoulmekan, \"O my brother, tell me thy history.\" So he\ntold him all that had befallen him, first and last, including the\nbenevolent dealing of the stoker with him. \"Hast thou requited\nhim his kindness to thee?\" asked Sherkan. \"Not yet,\" replied\nZoulmekan, \"but, God willing, I will surely do so, as soon as I\nreturn from this expedition and am at leisure to attend to him.\"\nTherewith, Sherkan was certified that his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman\nhad told him the truth; but he concealed what had passed between\nthem and contented himself with sending his salutation to her by\nher husband the Chamberlain. She returned his greeting in the\nsame fashion, calling down blessings on him and enquiring after\nher daughter Kuzia Fekan, to which he replied that the child was\nwell and in all health and safety. Then he went to his brother to\ntake counsel with him for departure; and Zoulmekan said, \"O my\nbrother, we will set out as soon as the army is complete and the\nArabs have come in from all parts.\" So he bade make ready the\nwheat and other provisions and munitions of war and went in to\nhis wife, who was now five months gone with child; and he put\nunder her hand mathematicians and astrologers, to whom he\nappointed stipends and allowances. Then, three months after the\narrival of the army of Syria, as soon as the troops were all\nassembled and the Arabs had come in, he set out, at the head of\nhis troops, with his brother Sherkan on his right and his\nbrother-in-law the Chamberlain on his left hand. The name of the\ngeneral of the army of the Medes was Rustem and that of the\ngeneral of the army of the Turks Behram. So the squadrons broke\nup and marched forward and the companies and battalions filed\npast in battle array, till the whole army was in motion. They\nceased not to fare on for the space of a month; halting three\ndays a week to rest, by reason of the greatness of the host, till\nthey came to the country of the Greeks; and as they drew near,\nthe people of the villages and hamlets took fright at them and\nfled to Constantinople.\n\nTo return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she reached her own\ncountry and felt herself in safety, she said to her son, King\nHerdoub, \"Be consoled; for I have avenged thy daughter Abrizeh\nand killed King Omar ben Ennuman and brought back the Princess\nSufiyeh. So now let us go to the King of Constantinople and carry\nhim back his daughter and tell him what has happened, that he may\nbe on his guard and prepare his forces and that we may do the\nlike; for I know that the Muslims will not delay to attack us.\"\n\"Let us wait till they draw near our country,\" replied Herdoub,\n\"that we may make us ready meantime and assemble our power.\"\nAccordingly they fell to levying their forces and preparing for\nwar, so that by the time the news of the Muslims' advance reached\nthem, they were ready for defence. Then King Herdoub and his\nmother set out for Constantinople, and King Afridoun, hearing of\nthe arrival of the King of the Greeks, came forth to meet him and\nasked how it was with him and the cause of his visit. So Herdoub\nacquainted him with the doing; of his mother Dhat ed Dewahi, how\nshe had slain the Muslim king and recovered the Princess Sufiyeh\nand that the Muslims had assembled their forces and were on their\nway to attack them, wherefore it behoved that they two should\njoin powers and meet them. King Afridoun rejoiced in the recovery\nof his daughter and the death of King Omar and sent to all\ncountries, to seek succour and acquaint the folk with the reason\nof the slaying of King Omar. So the Christian troops flocked to\nhim from all quarters, and before three months were past, the\narmy of the Greeks was complete, besides which there joined\nthemselves to him the French and Germans and Ragusans and Genoese\nand Venetians and all the hosts of the Pale Faces and warriors\nfrom all the lands of the Franks, and the earth was straitened on\nthem by reason of their multitude. Then Afridoun the Great King\ncommanded to depart; so they set out from Constantinople and\nceased not to defile through the city for the space of ten days.\nThey fared on till they reached a spacious valley, hard by the\nsalt sea, where they halted three days; and on the fourth day,\nthey were about to set out again, when news came to them of the\napproach of the army of Islam and the defenders of the faith of\nthe Best of Men.[FN#94] So they halted other three days, and on\nthe seventh day, they espied a great cloud of dust which spread\ntill it covered the whole country; nor was an hour of the day\npast before the dust lifted and melted away into the air, and its\ndarkness was pierced and dispersed by the starry sheen of\nlance-points and spear-heads and the flashing of sword-blades.\nPresently, there appeared the banners of Islam and the Mohammedan\nensigns and the mailed horsemen surged forward, like the letting\nloose of the billows of the sea, clad in cuirasses as they were\nclouds girdled about moons. Thereupon the Christian horsemen rode\nforward and the two hosts met, like two seas clashing together,\nand eyes fell upon eyes. The first to spur into the fight was the\nVizier Dendan, with the army of Syria, thirty thousand cavaliers,\nfollowed by Rustem, the general of the Medes, and Behram, the\ngeneral of the Turks, with other twenty thousand horse, behind\nwhom came the men of the sea-coast, sheathed in glittering mail\nas they were full moons passing through a night of clouds. Then\nthe Christian host called upon Jesus and Mary and the defiled\nCross, and fell upon the Vizier Dendan and the army of Syria. Now\nthis was in pursuance of a stratagem devised by Dhat ed Dewahi;\nfor, before his departure, King Afridoun had gone in to her and\nsaid, \"It is thou hast brought this great stress on us; so do\nthou advise me how I shall do and what plan I shall follow.\" \"O\ngreat King and mighty priest,\" replied she, \"I will teach thee a\nshift, which would baffle Iblis himself, though he should call to\nhis aid against it all his grisly hosts. It is that you send\nfifty thousand men in ships to the Mountain of Smoke and there\nlet them land and stir not till the standards of Islam come upon\nyou, when do you up and at them. Then let the troops from the\nseaward sally out upon the Muslims and take them in rear, whilst\nyou confront them from the landward. So not one of them shall\nescape, and our stress shall cease and abiding peace enure to\nus.\" Her counsel commended itself to King Afridoun and he\nreplied, \"It is well; thy counsel shall be followed, O princess\nof cunning old women and recourse of kings warring for their\nblood-revenge!\" So when the army of Islam came upon them in that\nvalley, of a sudden the flames began to run among the tents and\nthe swords to play upon men's bodies. Then came up the army of\nBaghdad and Khorassan, six score thousand horse, with Zoulmekan\nat their head. When the host of the infidels that lay by the sea\nsaw them, they came out and followed in their steps, and\nZoulmekan, seeing this, cried out to his men, saying, \"Turn back\nto the infidels, O people of the Chosen Prophet, and fall upon\nthose who deny and transgress the authority of the Compassionate,\nthe Merciful!\" So they turned and fought with the Christians, and\nSherkan came up with another wing of the Muslim army, near six\nscore thousand men, whilst the infidels numbered nigh upon\nsixteen hundred thousand. When the Muslims mingled in the mellay,\ntheir hearts were strengthened and they cried out, saying, \"God\nhath promised to succour us and abandon the infidels!\" And they\nclashed together with swords and spears. As for Sherkan, he made\nhimself a passage through the ranks and raged among the masses of\nthe foe, fighting so fierce a battle that it would have made\nchildren grow grey for fear; nor did he leave to tourney among\nthe infidels and work havoc upon them with the keen-edged\nscimitar, shouting, \"God is most great!\" till he drove them back\nto the brink of the sea. Then the strength of the foe failed and\nGod gave the victory to the faith of Submission,[FN#95] and they\nfought, drunken without wine, till they slew of the infidels\nforty and five thousand in that encounter, whilst of the Muslims\nbut three thousand and five hundred fell. Moreover, the Lion of\nthe Faith, King Sherkan, and his brother Zoulmekan slept not that\nnight, but occupied themselves with looking to the wounded and\nheartening their men with assurance of victory and salvation and\npromise of a recompense in the world to come.\n\nMeanwhile King Afridoun assembled the captains of his host and\nsaid to them, \"Verily, we had accomplished our intent and had\nsolaced our hearts, but for our over-confidence in our numbers:\nit was that which undid us.\" But Dhat ed Dewahi said to them,\n\"Assuredly nought shall profit you, except ye seek the favour of\nthe Messiah and put your trust in the True Faith; for by the\nvirtue of the Messiah, the whole strength of the Muslims lies in\nthat devil, King Sherkan!\" \"To-morrow,\" said Afridoun, \"I will\ndraw out in battle array and send out against them the famous\ncavalier, Luca ben Shemlout; for if King Sherkan come out to\njoust with him, he will slay him and the other champions of the\nMuslims, till not one is left; and I purpose this night to sacre\nyou all by fumigation with the Holy Incense.\" When the amirs\nheard this, they kissed the earth before him. Now the incense in\nquestion was the excrement of the Chief Patriarch, which was\nsought for with such instance and so highly valued, that the high\npriests of the Greeks used to mix it with musk and ambergris and\nsend it to all the countries of the Christians in silken sachets;\nand kings would pay a thousand dinars for every drachm of it, for\nthey sought it to perfume brides withal and the chief of them\nwere wont to use a little of it in ointment for the eyes and as a\nremedy in sickness and colic. But the priests used to mix their\nown excrement with it, for that the excrement of the Chief\nPatriarch could not suffice for half a score countries. So, as\nsoon as the day broke and the morning appeared with its lights\nand shone, the horsemen ran to arms, and King Afridoun summoned\nthe chief of his knights and nobles and invested them with\ndresses of honour. Then he made the sign of the cross on their\nforeheads and incensed them with the incense aforesaid; after\nwhich he called for Luca ben Shemlout, surnamed the Sword of the\nMessiah, and after incensing him and rubbing his palate with the\nholy excrement, daubed and smeared his cheeks and anointed his\nmoustaches with the remainder. Now there was no stouter champion\nin the land of the Greeks than this accursed Luca, nor any\ndoughtier at bowshot or smiting with swords or thrusting with\nspears in the mellay; but he was foul of favour, for his face was\nas the face of a jackass, his shape that of an ape and his look\nas the look of a malignant serpent, and the being near unto him\nwas more grievous than parting from the beloved. Moreover, he was\nblack as night and his breath was fetid as that of the lion; he\nwas crooked as a bow and grim-visaged as the pard, and he was\nbranded with the mark of the infidels. He kissed Afridoun's feet\nand the King said to him, \"It is my wish that thou go out against\nSherkan, King of Damascus, and hasten to deliver us from this\naffliction.\" Quoth Luca, \"I hear and obey.\" And the King made the\nsign of the cross on his forehead and felt assured of speedy help\nfrom heaven, whilst Luca went out and mounted a sorrel horse. Now\nhe was clad in a red tunic and a hauberk of gold set with jewels\nand bore a three-barbed spear, as he were Iblis the accursed on\nthe day of marshalling his hosts to battle. Then he rode forward,\nhe and his troop of infidels, as they were driving to the Fire,\npreceded by a herald, crying aloud in the Arabic tongue and\nsaying, \"Ho, followers of Mohammed, let none of you come out\nto-day but your champion Sherkan, the Sword of Islam, lord of\nDamascus of Syria!\" Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when\nthere arose a mighty tumult in the plain, all the people heard\nits voice, that called to mind the Day of Weeping. The cowards\ntrembled and all necks turned towards the sound, and behold, it\nwas King Sherkan. For, when Zoulmekan saw that accursed infidel\nspur out into the plain, he turned to Sherkan and said to him,\n\"Of a surety they seek for thee.\" \"Should it be so,\" replied\nSherkan, \"it were pleasing to me.\" So when they heard the herald,\nthey knew Luca to be the champion of the Greeks. Now he was one\nof the greatest of villains, one who made hearts to ache, and had\nsworn to clear the land of the Muslims; and indeed the Medes and\nTurks and Kurds feared his mischief. So Sherkan drove at him like\nan angry lion, mounted on a courser like a wild gazelle, and\ncoming nigh to him, shook his javelin in his hand, as it were a\ndarting viper, and recited the following verses:\n\nI have a sorrel horse, right swift and eath to guide, Shall give\n     thee of its might what thou mayst ill abide.\nAy, and a limber spear I have, full keen of point, As 'twere the\n     dam of deaths upon its shaft did ride;\nAnd eke a trenchant sword of Ind, which when I draw, Thou'dst\n     deem that levins flashed and darted far and wide,\n\nLuca understood not what he said nor did he apprehend the\nvehemence of the verse; but he smote his forehead with his hand,\nin honour of the cross drawn thereon, and kissed it, then ran at\nSherkan with lance pointed at him. When he came within spear-shot,\nhe threw the javelin into the air, till it was lost\nto sight, and catching it with the other hand, as do the\njugglers, hurled it at Sherkan. It sped from his hand, like a\nshooting star, and the people clamoured and feared for Sherkan:\nbut as it drew near him, he put out his hand and caught it in\nfull flight, to the amazement of the beholders. Then he shook it,\ntill it was well-nigh broken, and hurled it up into the air, till\nit disappeared from sight. As it descended, he caught it again,\nin less than the twinkling of an eye, and cried out from the\nbottom of his heart, saying, \"By the virtue of Him who created\nthe seven heavens, I will make this accursed fellow the byword of\nthe world!\" Then he hurled the javelin at Luca ben Shemlout, who\nthought to do as Sherkan had done and catch it in mid-flight; but\nSherkan made haste and sped another dart at him, which smote him\non the forehead amiddleward the sign of the cross, and God\nhurried his soul to the Fire and the Ill Stead.[FN#96] When the\ninfidels saw Luca fall dead, they buffeted their faces, crying,\n\"Alas!\" and \"Woe worth the day!\" and called for aid upon the\npriests of the monasteries, saying, \"Where are the crosses?\" So\nthe monks offered up prayers and the Christians all drew together\nagainst Sherkan and brandishing their swords and lances, rushed\nforward to the attack. Army met army and men's breasts fell under\nthe hoofs of the horses, whilst the sword and the spear ruled and\narms and wrists grew weak and it was as if the horses had been\nmade without legs; nor did the herald of war cease to call to\nbattle, till all arms were weary and the day departed and the\nnight came with the darkness. So the two hosts drew apart whilst\nevery warrior staggered like a drunken man, for stress of war and\nmuch thrusting and smiting, and the ground was hidden with the\nslain; sore were the wounds and the hurt knew not by whom he\ndied. Then Sherkan joined his brother and the Chamberlain and the\nVizier Dendan and said to them, \"Verily God hath opened a door\nfor the destruction of the infidels, praised be the Lord of the\nTwo Worlds!\" \"Let us never cease to praise God,\" replied\nZoulmekan, \"for that He hath dispelled trouble from the Arabs and\nthe Persians. Indeed the folk, generation after generation, shall\ntell of thy prowess against the accursed Luca, the falsifier of\nthe Evangel,[FN#97] of thy catching the javelin in mid-flight and\nsmiting the enemy of God among men; and thy report shall endure\nuntil the end of time.\" Then said Sherkan, \"Harkye, O grand\nChamberlain and doughty captain!\" \"At thy service,\" answered he.\nQuoth Sherkan, \"Take the Vizier Dendan and twenty thousand men\nand lead them, by a forced march, seven parasangs towards the\nsea, till ye come near the shore, at two parasangs' distance from\nthe foe. Then hide in the hollows of the ground, till ye hear the\ntumult of the infidels disembarking from the ships; and when the\nswords have begun to play between us and them and ye see our\ntroops falling back, as if defeated, and all the infidels\nfollowing them, as well those in front as those from the sea-ward\nand the tents, do ye lie in wait for them: and as soon as ye see\nthe standard with the words, 'There is no god but God, and\nMohammed is His Apostle!' up with the green banner and fall on\ntheir rear, shouting, 'God is most great!' and do your endeavour,\nthat they may not interpose between the retreating army and the\nsea.\" The Chamberlain agreed to this, and he and the Vizier\nDendan took twenty thousand men and set out at once, even as\nSherkan had commanded. As soon as it was morning the troops\ndonned their armour and drawing their swords, set their spears in\nrest and sprang to horse. Then the Christians drew out in battle\narray upon the hills and plains and the priests cried out and all\nheads were uncovered. Moreover, those who were in the ships\nhoisted the cross at their mast-heads and making from all sides\ntowards the shore, landed their horses and addressed them to the\nfray, whilst the swords glittered and the javelins glanced like\nlevies against the cuirasses. So they all joined battle and the\nmill-wheels of death rushed round over footmen and horsemen:\nheads flew from bodies and tongues grew mute and eyes dim;\ngall-bladders burst and skulls were cloven in sunder and wrists\nshorn in twain; whilst the horses plashed in pools of blood and\nmen gripped each other by the beards. The host of Islam called\nout, \"Peace and blessing on the Prince of Mankind and glory and\npraise in the highest to the Compassionate One!\" whilst the\ninfidels shouted, \"Glory to the Cross and the Girdle and the\nVine-juice and the Presser and the Priests and the Monks and the\nFestival of Palms and the Metropolitan!\" Presently, Zoulmekan and\nSherkan held back and their troops gave way and feigned to\nretreat before the infidels, who pursued them, deeming them\nrouted, and made ready to cut and thrust. Then the host of the\nMuslims began to chant the first verses of the Chapter of the\nCow,[FN#98] whilst the slain were trampled under the hoofs of the\nhorses and the heralds of the Greeks cried out, \"Ho, servants of\nthe Messiah! Ho, people of the True Faith! Ho, followers of the\nPope! Verily the divine grace shines upon you, for see, the hosts\nof Islam incline to tree! So turn ye not your backs to them, but\nlet your swords bite on their necks and hold not your hands from\nthem, else are ye outcasts from the Messiah, son of Mary, who\nspoke even in the cradle!\" Thereupon Afridoun thought that the\ninfidels were victorious, knowing not that this was but a\nstratagem of the Muslims, and sent to King Herdoub, to give him\nthe glad tidings of success, adding, \"It was nought but the\nexcrement of the Arch-Patriarch that availed us, in that the\nfragrance of it exhaled from the beards and moustaches of the\nservants of the Cross near and far; and I swear, by the Miracles\nof the Messiah and by the Waters of Baptism, that I will not\nleave upon the earth a single defender of Islam!\"[FN#99] So the\nmessenger betook himself to King Herdoub whilst the infidels\ncalled to each other saying, \"Let us take our wreak for Luca!\"\nand King Herdoub cried out, \"Vengeance for Abrizeh!\" With this,\nKing Zoulmekan cried out to his men, saying, \"Ho, servants of the\nRequiting King. up and smite the children of blasphemy and\ndisobedience with the white of the sword and the brown of the\nspear!\" So the Muslims turned upon the infidels and plied them\nwith the keen-edged scimitar, whilst their herald cried aloud,\n\"Up, ye lovers of the chosen prophet and at the enemies of the\nFaith! Now is the time for those, who hope for salvation on the\nDay of Fear, to win the favour of the Bountiful, the Forgiving\nOne, for verily Paradise is under the shadow of swords!\" So\nSherkan and his men fell upon the infidels and cut off their\nretreat and tourneyed among the ranks, when lo, a cavalier of\ngoodly presence opened a passage through the army of the Greeks\nand circled hither and thither amongst them, cutting and\nthrusting and covering the ground with heads and bodies, so that\nthe infidels feared him and their necks bent under his blows. He\nwas girt with two swords, that of his glances and a scimitar, and\narmed with two lances, one of cane and the other the straightness\nof his shape; over his shoulders flowed down his hair, whose\nbeauty might have stood him in stead of many warriors, even as\nsays the poet:\n\nFlowing hair, as I deem, is not fair to the sight, Except it be\n     spread, on the day of the fight,\nO'er a youth with a spear that he giveth to drink Of the blood of\n     full many a beard-bearing knight.\n\nOr as says another:\n\nI turned to him, what while he girt his faulchion on, and said,\n     \"Surely, the sabres of thy looks should stand thee in\n     sword's stead.\"\nQuoth he, \"The sabres of my looks I keep for those who love, My\n     sword for those who have no wit of passion's goodlihead.\"\n\nWhen Sherkan. saw him, he said to him, \"Ho, champion of the\nchampions! I conjure thee, by the Koran and the attributes of the\nCompassionate One, tell me who thou art: for verily by thy deeds\nthis day thou hast pleased the Requiting King, whom one thing\ndistracts not from another, in that thou hast discomfited the\nchildren of impiety and disbelief.\" Quoth the horseman, \"Thou art\nhe who sworest brotherhood to me but yesterday: how quickly thou\nhast forgotten me!\" Then he uncovered his face, so that what was\nhidden of his beauty was disclosed, and lo, it was none other\nthan Zoulmekan! When Sherkan knew his brother, he rejoiced in\nhim, except that he feared for him from the throng of adversaries\nand the onslaught of the champions; and this for two reasons, the\nfirst, his tender age and exposure to the evil eye, and the\nsecond, that his life was the mainstay of the empire. So he said\nto him, \"O King, thou adventurest thy life, and indeed I am in\nfear for thee from the foe; so join thy horse to mine, and thou\nwouldst do well not to hazard thyself forth of these squadrons,\nthat we may shoot at the enemy with thine unerring shaft.\" Quoth\nZoulmekan, \"I wish to equal thee in battle and I will not spare\nmyself before thee in fight.\" Then the host of Islam rushed upon\nthe infidels and encompassing them on all sides, waged a right\nholy war on them and broke the power of the children of impiety\nand pride and corruption. King Herdoub sighed when he saw the\nevil case that had fallen on the Greeks, and they turned their\nbacks and addressed themselves to flight, making for the ships,\nwhen lo, there came out upon them from the sea shore a new army,\nled by the Vizier Dendan, him who was wont to make the champions\nbite the dust, and the Chamberlain of Syria, with twenty thousand\ndoughty cavaliers, and fell upon their rear with sword and spear,\nwhilst the army of Islam pressed them in front and flank. Then\nsome of the Muslims turned against those that were in the ships\nand rained perditions on them, till they threw themselves into\nthe sea, and they slew of them much people, more than a hundred\nthousand knights, nor did one of their champions escape, great or\nsmall. Moreover, they took their ships, with all the baggage and\ntreasure therein, and the Muslims got that day booty, the like of\nwhich was never gotten of time past; nor did ever ear hear of\nsuch a battle. But twenty of the ships escaped, and amongst the\nbooty were fifty thousand horses, besides treasure and spoil past\ncount or reckoning, whereat the Muslims rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy and thanked God for the aid and protection He had\nvouchsafed them.\n\nMeanwhile, the news reached Constantinople that King Afridoun had\ngotten the victory over the Muslims, and Dhat ed Dewahi said, \"I\nknow that my son King Herdoub is no runagate and that he has\nnought to fear from the hosts of Islam, but will bring the whole\nworld to the Nazarene faith.\" Then she commanded the city to be\ndecorated, and the people held high festival and drank wines,\nknowing not what God had decreed to them. Whilst they were in the\nmidst of their rejoicings, behold, the raven of affliction\ncroaked against them and up came the twenty ships of fugitives,\namongst them the King of Caesarea. King Afridoun met them on the\nsea-shore, and they told him all that had befallen them, weeping\nsore and lamenting, whereupon rejoicing was turned into dismay,\nand King Afridoun was filled with consternation and knew that\nthere was no repairing their mischance. The women gathered\ntogether to make moan and lament: and the city was filled with\nmourning; all hearts failed, whilst the hired mourners cried\naloud and weeping and wailing arose on all sides. When King\nHerdoub met King Afridoun, he told him the truth of the case and\nhow the flight of the Muslims was but a stratagem and said to\nhim, \"Look not to see any of the troops, save those that have\nalready reached thee.\" When Afridoun heard this, he fell down in\na swoon with his nose under his feet; and as soon as he revived\nhe exclaimed, \"Surely the Messiah was wroth with the army, that\nhe delivered them thus into the hands of the Muslims!\" Then came\nthe Arch-Patriarch sadly to King Afridoun who said to him, \"O our\nfather, destruction hath overtaken our army and the Messiah hath\npunished us.\" \"Grieve not nor be concerned,\" replied the\nPatriarch; \"for it cannot be but that one of you has sinned\nagainst the Messiah, and all have been punished for his sin; but\nnow we will read prayers for you in the churches, that the\nMohammedan hosts may be repelled from you.\" After this, Dhat ed\nDewahi came to Afridoun and said to him, \"O King, verily the\nMuslims are many, and we shall never prevail against them, save\nby wile: wherefore I purpose to work upon them by stratagem and\nrepair to the army of Islam; haply I may be able to carry out my\nintent against their leader and slay their champion, even as I\nslew his father. If I succeed, not one of them shall return to\nhis native land, for all their strength lies in him; but I wish\nto have some Christians of Syria, such as go out from time to\ntime to sell their goods, to help me in carrying out my plan.\"\n\"Be it so, whenas thou wilt,\" replied the King. So she bade fetch\na hundred men, natives of Nejran in Syria, and said to them, \"Ye\nhave heard what has befallen the Christians with the Muslims?\"\n\"Yes,\" replied they; and the King said, \"This woman has devoted\nherself to the Messiah and purposes to go forth with you,\ndisguised as Mohammedans, to work out a device, which shall\nprofit us and hinder the Muslim host from us: so if ye also are\nwilling to devote yourselves to Christ, I will give you a quintal\nof gold. Those of you who escape shall have the money, and those\nof you who are slain Christ will reward.\" \"O King,\" replied they,\n\"we devote ourselves to the Messiah, and we will be thy\nsacrifice.\" Then the old woman took drugs and simples and boiled\nthem in water, till the black essence of them was extracted. She\nwaited till it was cold, then dipped the end of a handkerchief\ntherein and coloured her face therewith.. Moreover she put on,\nover her clothes, a long gaberdine with an embroidered border and\ntaking in her hand a rosary, went in to King Afridoun, who knew\nher not nor did any of his companions know her, till she\ndiscovered herself to them, when they all praised her for her\ncunning and her son rejoiced and said, \"May the Messiah never\nfail thee!\"  Then she took with her the Syrian Christians, and\nset out for the army of Baghdad. Now this accursed old woman was\na witch of the witches, past mistress in sorcery and deception,\nknavish, crafty, debauched and perfidious, with foul breath, red\neyelids, sallow cheeks, pale face, bleared eyes, mangy body,\ngrizzled hair, humped back, withered complexion and running\nnostrils. She had studied the scriptures of Islam and made the\npilgrimage to the Holy House of God,[FN#100] to come to the\nknowledge of the Mohammedan ordinances and the doctrines of the\nKoran; and she had professed Judaism in Jerusalem two years'\nspace, that she might perfect herself in the magical arts of men\nand Jinn; so that she was a plague of plagues and a calamity of\ncalamities, utterly depraved and having no religion. Now the\nchief reason of her sojourn with her son, King Herdoub, was on\naccount of the maidens at his court: for she was given to\ntribadism and could not exist without it: so if any damsel\npleased her, she was wont to teach her the art and rub saffron on\nher, till she fainted away for excess of pleasure. Whoso obeyed\nher, she used to favour and spake interest for her with her son;\nand whoso repelled her, she would contrive to destroy. This was\nknown to Merjaneh and Rihaneh and Utriyeh, the handmaids of\nAbrizeh, and the princess loathed the old woman and abhorred to\nlie with her because of the ill smell from her armpits and the\nstench of her wind, more fetid than carrion, and the roughness of\nher body, coarser than palm fibre. She was wont to bribe those\nwho served her desires with jewels and instruction; but Abrizeh\nheld aloof from her and sought refuge with the All-Wise, the\nOmniscient; for well does the poet say:\n\nO thou that abasest thyself to those that are rich and great And\n     lordest it with disdain o'er those of low estate,\nThou that thinkest to gild thy baseness by gathering gold, The\n     scenting of aught that's foul skills not its stench to\n     abate!\n\nTo continue. As soon as Dhat ed Dewahi had departed, her son went\nin to Afridoun and said to him, \"O King, we have no need of the\nChief Patriarch nor of his prayers, but will act according to my\nmother's counsel and await what she will do of her craft without\nend with the Muslim host, for they are on the march hither with\nall their strength and will quickly be with us.\" When King\nAfridoun heard this, terror took hold upon his heart and he wrote\nletters forthright to all the countries of the Christians,\nsaying, \"It behoves none of the followers of the Messiah or\nsoldiers of the Cross to hold back, especially the folk of the\ncitadels and strong places: but let them all come to us foot and\nhorse and women and children, for the Muslim hosts already tread\nour soil. So hasten, hasten, ere what we fear come to pass.\"\n\nNow Dhat ed Dewahi had clad her companions in the habit of Muslim\nmerchants and had provided herself with a hundred mules laden\nwith stuffs of Antioch, such as gold woven satin and royal\nbrocade and so forth, and with a letter from King Afridoun to the\nfollowing effect: \"These are merchants from the land of Syria,\nwho have been with us: so it behoves none to do them let or\nhindrance nor take tithe of them, till they reach their own\ncountry and the place of their security, for by merchants a\ncountry flourishes and grows rich, and these are no men of war\nnor evil-doers.\" So, as soon as she came without the city, she\nsaid to them, \"O folk, I wish to work out a plot for the\ndestruction of the Muslims.\" \"O princess,\" replied they, \"command\nus what thou wilt; we are at thy disposal, and may the Messiah\nprosper thy dealing!\" Then she donned a gown of fine white wool\nand rubbing her forehead, till she made a great mark (as of a\nscar), anointed it with an ointment of her own fashion, so that\nit shone greatly. Now she was lean-bodied and hollow-eyed, and\nshe bound her legs tightly round with cords just above her feet,\ntill she drew near the Muslim camp, when she unwound them,\nleaving the marks of the cords deeply embedded in the flesh. Then\nshe anointed the weals with dragon's blood and bade her\ncompanions beat her severely and lay her in a chest. \"How can we\nbeat thee,\" replied they, \"who art our sovereign lady and mother\nof the supreme King?\" Quoth she, \"We blame not nor reproach him\nwho goeth to the jakes, and in time of necessity, forbidden\nthings become lawful. When ye have laid me in the chest, set it\non the back of one of the mules and pass on with it and the other\ngoods through the Muslim camp, crying aloud the profession of the\nFaith of Unity.[FN#101] If any hinder you, give up the mules and\ntheir lading and betake yourself to their king Zoulmekan and cast\nyourselves on his protection, saying, 'We were in the country of\nthe infidels and they took nothing from us, but wrote us a\npassport, that none should hinder us: so why do ye seize upon our\ngoods? See, here is the letter of the King of the Greeks,\ncommanding that none shall do us let or hindrance.' If he say to\nyou, 'What profit had ye of your commerce in the land of the\nGreeks?' answer him, 'We profited in that it was given us to\naccomplish the deliverance of a pious man, who had lain nigh\nfifteen years in a dungeon under the earth, crying out for help,\nyet none helped him. On the contrary, the infidels tortured him\nnight and day. We knew not of this: but after we had sojourned\nawhile in Constantinople, having sold our goods and bought others\nin their stead, we made ready to set out and return to our native\nland. We spent the night before our departure, conversing about\nour journey, and when the day broke, we saw a figure painted upon\nthe wall; and behold, as we drew nigh it, it moved and said, \"O\nMuslims, is there amongst you one who is minded to gain the\nfavour of the Lord of the two worlds?\" \"How so?\" asked we.\n\"Know,\" replied the figure, \"that God hath made me speak to you,\nto the intent that your belief may be fortified and that your\nfaith may inspire you and that you may go forth of the country of\nthe infidels and repair to the camp of the Muslims. where ye shall\nfind the Sword of the Compassionate One, the Champion of the Age,\nKing Sherkan, him by whom He shall conquer Constantinople and\ndestroy the followers of the Christian heresy. On the third day\nof your journey, you will come to [a town, in which stands] a\nhermitage known as the hermitage of Metronhena. Make for it with\na pure intent and do your utmost endeavour to come into the\nhermitage, for therein is a true believer from Jerusalem, by name\nAbdallah, one of the holiest of men, whom God hath blessed with\nsupernatural powers, such as dispel doubts and obscurity. Him\ncertain of the monks seized by fraud and shut in an underground\ndungeon, where he has lain many a year. So, if ye desire to gain\nthe favour of the Lord of the Faithful, ye cannot accomplish a more\nacceptable work than the deliverance of this holy man.\" When we\nheard what the figure said, we knew that this holy man was indeed\nof the chiefest of the devotees and heart-whole servants of God; so\nwe set out and after three days' journey, came in sight of the town,\nand making for it, passed the day in buying and selling, as is the\nwont of merchants. As soon as the day had departed and the night was\ncome with the darkness, we repaired to the hermitage, wherein was\nthe dungeon, and presently heard the holy man chant some verses of\nthe Koran and repeat the following lines:\n\nI strive with my heart, for anguish that's well-nigh cleft in\n     twain, And there ebbs and flows in my bosom a flooding sea\n     of pain.\nIndeed, there is no deliverance, and death is near at hand; Yet\n     death than long affliction were kinder and more fain.\nO lightning, if thou visit my native land and folk, If for the\n     fair ones' lustre thine own red brilliance wane\nCarry my salutation to those I love and say, I lie in a far Greek\n     dungeon and cry for help in vain.\nHow can I win to join them, since that the ways with wars Are\n     blocked and the gate of succour is barred with many a\n     chain?'\n\nWhen once ye have brought me into the Muslim camp,\" added the old\nwoman, \"I know how I will make shift to beguile them and slay\nthem all, even to the last man.\" When the Christians heard what\nshe said, they kissed her hands and laid her in a chest, after\nthey had beaten her grievously, in obedience to her commands,\nseeing it to be incumbent on them to do her bidding in this, then\nmade for the Muslim camp.\n\nMeanwhile, the Muslims sat down to converse with each other,\nafter they had made an end of the battle and the pillage, and\nZoulmekan said to his brother, \"Verily, God hath given us the\nvictory, because of our just dealing and concord amongst\nourselves; wherefore, O Sherkan, do thou continue to obey my\ncommandment, in submission to God (to whom belong might and\nmajesty), for I mean to slay ten kings and fifty thousand of the\nGreeks, in revenge for my father, and enter Constantinople.\" \"My\nlife be thy ransom against death!\" replied Sherkan. \"Needs must I\nfollow forth the Holy War, though I tarry many a year in the\ninfidels' country. But, O my brother, I have in Damascus a\ndaughter called Kuzia Fekan, who is one of the marvels of the\ntime, and I love her heartily.\" \"And I also,\" said Zoulmekan,\n\"have left my wife with child and near her time, nor do I know\nwhat God will vouchsafe me by her. But, O my brother, promise me\nthat, if she bring me a son, thou wilt grant me thy daughter for\nmy son and pledge me thy faith thereon.\" \"With all my heart,\"\nreplied Sherkan and put out his hand to his brother, saying, \"If\nthou be blessed with a son, I will give him my daughter Kuzia\nFekan to wife.\" At this Zoulmekan rejoiced, and they fell to\ngiving each other joy of the victory, whilst the Vizier Dendan\nalso congratulated them and said to them \"Know, O Kings, that God\nhath given us the victory, for that we have devoted ourselves to\nHim (to whom belong might and majesty) and have left our homes\nand families: and it is my counsel that we follow up the foe and\npress upon them and harass them; it may be God shall bring us to\nour desire and we shall destroy our enemies. If it please you, do\nye embark in the ships and sail upon the sea, whilst we fare\nforward by land and bear the brunt of the battle.\" And he ceased\nnot to urge them to action, repeating the following verses:\n\nThe goodliest of delights it is one's foes to slay And on the\n     backs of steeds the spoil to bear away.\nOft comes a messenger with promise of a friend, And the friend\n     comes himself without a trysting-day.\n\nAnd these also:\n\nAs I live, I will make of war my mother and the spear My brother\n     and the sword my father, and for fere\nI will take each shag-haired warrior that meets death with a\n     smile, As if to die in battle were e'en his wish most dear!\n\n\"Glory be to God,\" continued he, \"Who hath vouchsafed us His\nalmighty aid and hath given us spoil of silver and fine gold!\"\nThen Zoulmekan commanded to depart; and the army set out and\nfared on, by forced marches, toward Constantinople, till they\ncame to a wide and blooming champaign, full of all things fair,\nwith wild cattle frisking and gazelles passing to and fro. Now\nthey had traversed great deserts and had been six days cut off\nfrom water, when they drew near this meadow and saw therein\nwaters welling and trees laden with ripe fruits and the land as\nit were Paradise; it had donned its adornments and decked\nitself.[FN#102] The branches of its trees swayed gently to and\nfro, drunken with the new wine of the dew, and therein were\nconjoined the fresh sweetness of the fountains of Paradise and\nthe soft breathings of the zephyr. Mind and eye were confounded\nwith its beauty, even as says the poet:\n\nLook on the verdant smiling mead, with flowers and herbs beseen,\n     As 'twere the Spring thereon had spread a mantle all of\n     green.\nIf thou behold it with the eye of sense alone, thou'lt see Nought\n     but as 'twere a lake wherein the water waves, I ween:\nBut with thy mind's eye look; thou'lt see a glory in the trees\n     And lo' amidst the boughs above, the waving banners' sheen!\n\nOr as another says:\n\nThe river's a cheek that the sun has rosy made; For ringlets it\n     borrows the cassia's creeping shade.\nThe water makes anklets of silver about the legs Of the boughs,\n     and the flowers for crowns o'er all are laid.\n\nWhen Zoulmekan saw this champaign, with its thick-leaved trees\nand its blooming flowers and warbling birds, he turned to his\nbrother Sherkan and said to him, \"O my brother, verily Damascus\nhath not in it the like of this place. We will abide here three\ndays, that we may rest ourselves and that the troops may regain\nstrength and their souls be fortified to encounter the accursed\ninfidels.\" So they halted and pitched their camp there.\nPresently, they heard a noise of voices afar, and Zoulmekan\nenquiring the cause thereof, was told that a caravan of Syrian\nmerchants had halted there to rest and that the Muslim troops had\ncome on them and had haply seized some of their goods, that they\nhad brought from the country of the infidels. After awhile, up\ncame the merchants, crying out and appealing to the King for\nredress. So Zoulmekan bade bring them before him, and they said\nto him, \"O King, we have been in the country of the infidels and\nthey spoiled us of nothing: why then do our brothers the Muslims\ndespoil us of our goods, and that in their own country? When we\nsaw your troops, we went up to them, thinking no evil, and they\nrobbed us of what we had with us.\" Then they brought out to him\nthe letter of the King of Constantinople, and Sherkan took it and\nreading it, said to them, \"We will restore you what has been\ntaken from you; but it behoved you not to carry merchandise to\nthe country of the infidels.\" \"O our lord,\" replied they, \"of a\ntruth, God moved us to go thither, that we might win what never\nchampion won the like of, no, not even thou in ail thy battles.\"\n\"What was it that ye won?\" asked Sherkan. \"O King,\" replied they,\n\"we will not tell thee, except in private; for if this thing be\nnoised among the folk, it may come to the ears of the King of\nConstantinople, and this will be the cause of our ruin and of the\nruin of all Muslims that resort to the land of the Greeks.\" (Now\nthey had hidden the chest wherein was Dhat ed Dewahi.) So\nZoulmekan and his brother brought them to a private place, where\nthey repeated to him the story of the devotee, even as the old\nwoman had lessoned them, and wept till they made the two kings\nweep. There withal Sherkan's heart yearned to the devotee and he\nwas moved to pity for him and zeal for the service of God the\nMost High. So he said to the Syrians, \"Did ye rescue the holy man\nor is he still in the hermitage?\" Quoth they, \"We delivered him\nand slew the hermit, fearing for ourselves; after which we made\nhaste to fly, for fear of death; but a trusty man told us that in\nthis hermitage are quintals of gold and silver and jewels.\" Then\nthey fetched the chest and brought out the accursed old woman, as\nshe were a cassia[FN#103] pod, for excess of blackness and\nleanness, and laden with fetters and shackles. When Zoulmekan and\nthe bystanders saw her, they took her for a man of the dower of\nGod's servants and the most excellent of devotees, more by token\nof the shining of her forehead for the ointment with which she\nhad anointed it. So Zoulmekan and Sherkan wept sore and kissed\nher hands and feet, sobbing aloud: but she signed to them and\nsaid, \"Give over weeping and hear my words.\" So they left\nweeping, in obedience to her, and she said, \"Know that I was\ncontent to accept what my Lord did unto me, knowing that the\naffliction that befell me was a trial from Him (to whom belong\nmight and majesty); since that for him who is not patient under\ntrial and affliction there is no coming to the delights of\nParadise. I had indeed besought Him that I might return to my\nnative land, yet not for impatience of the sufferings decreed to\nme, but that I might die under the hoofs of the horses of the\nwarriors of the Faith, who, being slain in battle, live again\nwithout suffering death,\"[FN#104]; and she repeated the following\ncouplets:\n\nThe fortress[FN#105] is Sinai's self and the fire of war burns\n     free, And thou art Moses and this the time appointed to\n     thee.\nThrow down thy rod, for lo, it shall swallow up all they make!\n     And fear not; I trow the ropes of the folk no serpents\n     be.[FN#106]\nRead thou the lines of the foe for chapters,[FN#107] the day of\n     the fight, And let thy sword mark on their necks the verses,\n     what while they flee.\n\nThen her eyes ran over with tears and her forehead shone like\ngleaming light, and Sherkan rose and kissed her hand and caused\nfood to be set before her: but she refused it, saying, \"I have\nnot broken my fast (till sunset) for fifteen years; and how\nshould I do so now, whenas my Lord hath been bountiful to me in\ndelivering me from the captivity of the infidels and doing away\nfrom me that which was more grievous than the fiery torment? I\nwill wait till sun down.\" So at nightfall Sherkan and Zoulmekan\ncame to her with food and said, \"Eat, O pious man.\" But she said,\n\"This is no time for eating; it is the hour for doing my service\nto the Requiting King.\" Then she took up her station in the\nprayer-niche and stood praying till the night was spent; and she\nceased not to do thus for three days and nights, sitting not but\nat the time of salutation.[FN#108] When Zoulmekan saw this her\nbehaviour, belief in her took firm hold upon his heart and he\nsaid to Sherkan, \"Cause a tent of perfumed leather to be pitched\nfor this holy man and appoint a servant to wait upon him.\" On the\nfourth day, she called for food; so they brought her all kinds of\nmeats that could allure the sense or delight the eye; but of all\nthis she ate but one cake of bread with salt. Then she turned\nagain to her fast, and when the night came, she rose anew to\npray: and Sherkan said to Zoulmekan, \"Verily, this man carries\nrenunciation of the world to the utmost extreme, and were it not\nfor this holy war, I would join myself to him and worship God in\nhis service, till I came before His presence. And now I would\nfain enter his tent and talk with him awhile.\" \"And I also,\" said\nZoulmekan. \"To-morrow we sally forth against Constantinople, and\nwe shall find no time like the present.\" \"And I also,\" said the\nVizier Dendan, \"desire to see this holy man; haply he will pray\nfor me that I may find my death in this holy war and come to the\npresence of my Lord, for I am weary of the world.\" So as soon as\nnight had darkened on them, they repaired to the tent of the\nwitch Dhat et Dewahi and finding her standing praying, fell\na-weeping, for pity of her: but she paid no heed to them till the\nnight was half spent, when she ended her devotions by pronouncing\nthe salutation (to the guardian angels). Then she turned to them\nand greeted them, saying, \"Wherefore come ye?\" \"O holy man,\" said\nthey, \"didst thou not hear us weeping round thee?\" \"To him who\nstands before God,\" replied she, \"there remains nor sight nor\nhearing for the things of this world.\" Quoth they, \"We would have\nthee tell us the manner of thy captivity and offer up prayer for\nus this night, for that will profit us more than the possession\nof Constantinople.\" \"By Allah,\" answered she, \"were ye not the\nleaders of the Muslims, I would not tell you aught of this; for I\ncomplain not but to God alone. However, to you I will relate the\ncircumstance of my captivity. Know, then, that I was in Jerusalem\nwith certain saints and ecstatics, and did not magnify myself\namong them, for that God had endowed me with humility and\nabnegation, till one night I chanced to go down to the lake and\nwalked upon the water. There withal there entered into me pride,\nwhence I know not, and I said to myself, 'Who can walk upon the\nwater, like unto me?' And from that time my heart became hardened\nand God afflicted me with the love of travel. So I journeyed to\nthe land of the Greeks and visited it in every part during a\nwhole year, leaving no place but I worshipped God therein. When I\ncame to the place (where the Syrians found me) I ascended the\nmountain and saw there a hermitage, inhabited by a monk called\nMetrouhena. When he saw me, he came out to me and kissed my hands\nand feet, saying, 'Verily, I have seen thee, since thou camest\ninto the land of the Greeks, and thou hast filled me with longing\nfor the land of Islam.' Then he took my hand and carrying me into\nthe hermitage, brought me to a dark place, where he took me\nunawares and locking the door on me, left me there forty days,\nwithout meat or drink; for it was his intent to kill me by\nstarvation. One day it chanced that a knight called Decianus came\nto the hermitage, accompanied by ten squires and his daughter\nTemathil, a girl of incomparable beauty. The monk told them of\nme, and Decianus said, 'Bring him out, for surely there is not a\nbird's meal of flesh left on him.' So they opened the door of the\ndungeon and found me standing erect in the niche, praying and\nreciting the Koran and glorifying God and humbling myself to Him.\nWhen they saw this, the monk exclaimed, 'This man is indeed a\nsorcerer of the sorcerers!' Then they all came in on me, and\nDecianus and his company beat me grievously, till I desired death\nand reproached myself, saying, 'This is the reward of him who\nglorifies himself and takes credit for that which God hath\nbestowed upon him, beyond his own competence! For, indeed,  my\nsoul, pride and arrogance have crept into thee. Dost thou not\nknow that pride angers the Lord and hardens the heart and brings\nmen to the fire?' Then they laid me in fetters and returned me to\nmy place, which was a dungeon under the earth. Every three days,\nthey threw me down a cake of barley-bread and a draught of water;\nand every month or two, came Decianus to the hermitage, with his\ndaughter Temathil, who is now grown up, for when I first saw her,\nshe was nine years old, and I abode fifteen years in the dungeon,\nso that she must be now four-and twenty years of age. There is\nnot in our land nor in the land of the Greeks a fairer than she,\nand her father feared lest the King (of Constantinople) should\ntake her from him; for she had vowed herself to the service of\nthe Messiah and rode with Decianus in the habit of a cavalier, so\nthat none who saw her knew her for a woman. In this hermitage her\nfather had laid up his treasures, for all who had aught of price\nwere wont to deposit it there, and I saw there all manner of gold\nand silver and jewels and precious vessels and rarities, none may\nkeep count of them save God the Most High. Ye are more worthy of\nthese riches than the infidels; so do ye lay hands on that which\nis in the hermitage and divide it among the Muslims, and\nespecially among those who wage the holy war. When these\nmerchants came to Constantinople and sold their merchandise, the\nimage on the wall spoke to them, by God's special grace to me; so\nthey made for the hermitage and tortured Metrouhena, after the\nmost grievous fashion, and dragged him by the beard, till he\nshowed them where I was, when they took me and fled for fear of\ndeath. To-morrow, Temathil will visit the hermitage as of wont,\nand her father and his squires will come after her, to protect\nher: so, an ye would be witness of these things, take me with you\nand I will deliver to you the treasure and the riches of the\nknight Decianus, that are stored up in that mountain; for I saw\nthem bring out vessels of gold and silver to drink in and heard a\ndamsel of their company sing to them in Arabic. Alas, that so\nsweet a voice should not be busied in reciting the Koran! So, an\nye will, I will bring you to the hermitage and ye shall hide\nthere, against the coming of Decianus and his daughter. Then take\nher, for she is only fit for the king of the age, Sherkan, or for\nKing Zoulmekan.\" When they heard her words, they all rejoiced,\nwith the exception of the Vizier Dendan, who put no faith in her\nstory, for her words took no hold on his reason and he was\nconfounded at her discourse and signs of doubt and disbelief\nappeared in his face; but he feared to speak with her, for awe of\nthe King. Then she said, \"I fear lest Decianus come and seeing\nthe troops encamped here, be afraid to enter the hermitage.\" So\nZoulmekan resolved to despatch the army towards Constantinople\nand said, \"I mean to take a hundred horse and many mules and make\nfor the mountain, where we will load the mules with the\ntreasure.\" Then he sent for the Chamberlain and for the captains\nof the Turks and Medes and said to them, 'As soon as it is day,\ndo ye strike camp and set out for Constantinople. Thou, O\nChamberlain, shall fill my place in council and command, and\nthou, O Rustem, shalt be my brother's deputy in battle. Let none\nknow that we are not with you, and after three days we will\nrejoin you.\" Then he chose out a hundred of the stoutest\ncavaliers, and he and Sherkan and Dendan set out for the\nhermitage, with mules and chests for the transport of the\ntreasure. As soon as it was morning, the Chamberlain gave the\nsignal for departure, and the troops set out, thinking that the\ntwo Kings and the Vizier were with them. Now the Syrians that\nwere with Dhat ed Dewahi had taken their departure privily, after\nthey had gone in to her and kissed her hands and feet and gotten\nher leave and taken her orders. Then she waited till it was dark\nnight and going in to Zoulmekan and his companions, said to them,\n\"Come, let us set out for the mountain, and take with you a few\nmen.\" They obeyed her and left five horsemen at the foot of the\nmountain, whilst the rest rode on before Dhat ed Dewahi, to whom\nnew strength seemed given for excess of joy, so that Zoulmekan\nsaid to his companions, \"Glory be to God who sustains this holy\nman, whose like we never saw!\" Now she had written a letter to\nthe King of Constantinople and despatched it by a carrier-pigeon,\nacquainting him with what had passed and adding, \"Do thou send me\nten thousand horsemen of the stoutest of the Greeks and let them\ncome stealthily along the foot of the mountains, lest the Muslim\nhost get sight of them, to the hermitage and hide themselves\nthere, till I come to them with the Muslim King and his brother,\nfor I have inveigled them and will bring them thither, together\nwith the Vizier Dendan and a hundred horse, no more, that I may\ndeliver to them the crosses that are in the hermitage. I am\nresolved to slay the monk Metrouhena, since my scheme cannot be\ncarried out but at the cost of his life. If my plot work well,\nnot one of the Muslims shall return to his own country, no, not a\nliving soul nor a blower of the fire; and Metrouhena shall be a\nsacrifice for the followers of the Christian faith and the\nservants of the Cross, and praise be to the Messiah, first and\nlast!\" When this letter reached Constantinople, the keeper of the\npigeons carried it to King Afridoun, who read it and forthwith\nequipped ten thousand cavaliers with horses and dromedaries and\nmules and victual and bade them repair to the hermitage and hide\nthere; and they did as he commanded them. Meanwhile. when\nZoulmekan and his companions reached the hermitage, they entered\nand met the monk Metrouhena, who came out to see who they were;\nwhereupon quoth Dhat ed Dewahi, \"Slay this accursed fellow.' So\nthey fell on him with their swords and made him drink the cup of\ndeath. Then the accursed old woman carried them to the place of\nofferings[FN#109] and brought out to them treasures and precious\nthings, more than she had promised them, which they laid in\nchests and loaded the mules therewith. As for Temathil and her\nfather, they came not, for fear of the Muslims, and Zoulmekan\ntarried there, awaiting her, the whole of that day and two more,\ntill Sherkan said to him, \"By Allah, I am troubled at heart for\nthe army of Islam, for I know not what is come of them.\" \"And I\nalso am concerned for them,\" replied Zoulmekan. \"We have come by\na great treasure and I do not believe that Temathil or any one\nelse will come to the hermitage, after that which has befallen\nthe host of the Christians. So we should do well to content\nourselves with what God has given us and depart; and haply He\nwill help us break open Constantinople.\" So they came down from\nthe mountain, for Dhat ed Dewahi dared not gainsay them, for fear\nof betraying herself, and rode on till they reached the head of a\ndefile, in which the old woman had laid an ambush for them with\nthe ten thousand horse. As soon as the latter saw them, they made\nat them from all sides, couching their lances and baring their\nsabres, whilst they shouted the watchword of their infidel faith\nand set the arrows of their mischief to the strings.\n\nWhen Zoulmekan saw them, he was ware that they were a mighty host\nand said, \"Who can have given these troops advice of us?\" \"O my\nbrother,\" replied Sherkan, \"this is no time for talking, but for\nsmiting with swords and shooting with arrows; so gird up your\ncourage and strengthen your hearts, for this pass is like a\nstreet with two gates: though, by the virtue of the Lord of the\nArabs and the Persians, were not the place so strait, I would\nbring them to nought, though they were a hundred thousand men!\"\n\n\"Had we known this,\" said Zoulmekan, \"we would have brought with\nus five thousand horse.\" \"If we had ten thousand,\" rejoined the\nVizier, \"they would avail ail us nothing in this narrow place:\nbut God will succour us against them. I know this defile and its\nstraitness, and there are many places of refuge in it; for I have\nbeen here on an expedition with King Omar ben Ennuman, what while\nwe laid siege to Constantinople. We camped in this place, and\nthere is here water colder than snow. So come, let us win? out of\nthis pass ere the infidels increase on us and get the start of us\nto the mountain-top, that they may hurl down rocks upon us and we\nbe powerless to come at them.\" So they hurried on, to get out of\nthe defile: but Dhat ed Dewahi looked at them and said, \"What is\nit ye fear, ye who have vowed yourselves to God the Most High, to\nwork His will? By Allah, I was imprisoned underground for fifteen\nyears, yet never gainsaid I God in aught He did with me! Fight ye\nin the way of God; whoso of ye is killed, Paradise shall be his\nabode, and whoso kills, his endeavour shall be for his glory.\"\nWhen they heard her words, their concern and anxiety ceased from\nthem and they stood firm, awaiting the onset of the infidels, who\nfell on them from all sides, whilst the swords played upon their\nnecks and the cup of death went round amongst them.\n\nThe Muslims fought right valiantly for the service of God and\nwrought upon His enemies with stroke of sword and push of pike;\nwhilst Zoulmekan smote upon the men and made the champions bite\nthe dust and their heads fly from their bodies, five by five and\nten by ten, till he had done to death a number of them past\ncount. Presently, he looked at the old woman and saw her waving\nher sword and heartening them, and all who feared fled to her for\nshelter; but (in secret) she was beckoning to the infidels to\nkill Sherkan. So troop after troop rushed on him to slay him: but\neach troop he charged and drove back, with the sword in their\nloins; and indeed he thought it was the holy man's blessing that\ngave him the victory over them and said in himself, \"Verily God\nlooks on this holy man with eyes of favour and strengthens my\nprowess against the infidels with the purity of his intent: for I\nsee that they fear me and cannot stand against me, but every one\nwho attacks me turns tail and flees.\" So they battled the rest of\nthe day, and when the night fell, the Muslims took refuge in a\ncave, being hard pressed and weary with stress of battle; and\nfive-and-forty of them were slain that day by rocks that the\ninfidels rolled down on them. When they were gathered together,\nthey sought the devotee, but could find no trace of him. This was\ngrievous to them and they said, \"Belike, he hath died a martyr.\"\nQuoth Sherkan \"I saw him heartening the men with divine instances\nand sacring them with verses of the Koran.\" Whilst they were\ntalking, behold, the accursed old woman stood before them, with\nthe head of the captain of the ten thousand horse, a noble\nknight, a fierce champion and an obstinate devil, in her hand.\nNow one of the Turks had slain him with an arrow, and God hurried\nhis soul to the fire: and when the infidels saw what the Muslim\nhad done with their leader, they all fell on him and hewed him in\npieces with their swords, and God hastened with his soul to\nParadise. Then the old woman cut off the knight's head and\ncarrying it to Sherkan and Zoulmekan and the Vizier, threw it at\ntheir feet; whereupon Sherkan exclaimed, \"Praised be God that we\nsee thee in safety, O holy man and devout champion of the Faith!\"\n\"O my son,\" replied she, \"I have sought a martyr's death this\nday, throwing myself midmost the host of the infidels, but they\nfeared me. When ye separated, a holy jealousy seized me for you;\nso I rushed on the knight their captain, though he was reckoned a\nmatch for a thousand horse, and smote him and severed his head\nfrom his body. Not one of the infidels could come near me, so I\ntook his head and have brought it to you, that you may be\nheartened in the holy strife and work out the will of the Lord of\nthe Faithful with your swords. And now I will leave you to strive\nagainst the infidels, whilst I go to your army, though they be at\nthe gates of Constantinople, and return with twenty thousand\nhorse to destroy these unbelievers.\" Quoth Sherkan, \"How wilt\nthou win to them, O holy man, seeing that the valley is blocked\nup by the infidels on all sides?\" \"God will veil me from their\neyes,\" replied she, \"and they shall not see me; nor if any saw\nme, would he dare to attack me, for I shall be absorbed in God\nand He will fend off His enemies from me.\" \"Thou sayst sooth, O\nholy man,\" rejoined Sherkan, \"for indeed I have been witness of\nthis; so, if thou canst set out at the first of the night, it\nwill be the better for us.\" \"I will set out forthright,\" replied\nshe; \"and, an thou wilt, thou shalt go with me, and none shall\nsee thee. If thy brother also have a mind to go, we will take\nhim, but none else; for the shadow of a saint can cover but two.\"\n\"As for me,\" said Sherkan, \"I will not leave my comrades; but, if\nmy brother please, he will do well to go with thee and win free\nof this strait; for he is the stronghold of the Muslims and the\nsword of the Lord of the two worlds; and if it be his pleasure,\nlet him take with him the Vizier Dendan, or whom else he may\nchoose, and send us ten thousand horse to succour us against\nthese villains.\" So they agreed to this and Dhat ed Dewahi said,\n\"Wait till I go on before you and look if the infidels be asleep\nor awake.\" Quoth they, \"We will go with thee and trust our affair\nto God.\" \"If I do your bidding,\" replied she, \"do not blame me,\nbut blame yourselves; for it is my counsel that you wait till I\nhave spied you out the state of the case.\" Then said Sherkan, \"Go\nand return quickly, for we shall be awaiting thee.\" So she went\nout and Sherkan turned to his brother and said, \"Were not this\nholy man a miracle-worker, he had never slain yonder doughty\nknight. This is a sufficient measure of his power, and indeed the\nstrength of the infidels is broken by the slaying of their\nleader, for he was a fierce warrior and a stubborn devil.\" Whilst\nthey were thus devising of the power of the devotee, behold, the\ncursed old woman returned and promised them victory over the\nunbelievers; whereupon they thanked her, and she said, \"Where is\nthe king of the age Zoulmekan?\" \"Here am I,\" replied he. \"Take\nthy Vizier,\" said she, \"and follow me, that we may win out to\nConstantinople.\" Now she had acquainted the infidels with the\ncheat she had put on the Muslims, and they rejoiced mightily and\nsaid, \"We shall not be content till we have slain their king in\nreturn for the death of our general; for we had no stouter\ncavalier than he; but when thou bringest him to us, we will carry\nhim to King Afridoun.\" Then she went out with Zoulmekan and\nDendan and walked on before them, saying, \"Fare on with the\nblessing of the Most High God!\" They did as she bade them, for\nthe arrow of fate and destiny had fallen on them, and she led\nthem on, through the midst of the Christian camp, till they came\nto the narrow pass aforesaid. Whilst the enemy watched them, but\ndid them no hindrance; for the old woman had enjoined this on\nthem. When Zoulmekan and Dendan saw that the infidels did them no\nhindrance, the Vizier exclaimed, \"By Allah, this is one of the\nholy man's miracles! Without doubt he is of the elect.\" \"By\nAllah,\" said Zoulmekan, \"I think the infidels must be blind, for\nwe see them, and they see us not.\" Whilst they were thus praising\nthe holy man and recounting his virtues, behold, the infidels\nfell upon them from all sides and seized them, saying, \"Is there\nany one else with you, that we may seize upon him?\" Quoth Dendan,\n\"See ye not yon other man that is before us?\" \"By the Messiah and\nthe Monks and the Primate and the Metropolitan,\" replied they,\n\"we see none but you!\" And Zoulmekan said, \"By Allah, this is a\nchastisement decreed to us by God!\" Then the Christians laid\nshackles on their feet and set men to guard them during the\nnight, whilst Dhat ed Dewahi fared on and disappeared from their\nsight. So they fell to lamenting and said, \"Verily, the\ngainsaying of pious men leads to greater stress than this, and we\nare punished by the strait into which we have fallen.\"\n\nMeanwhile, Sherkan passed the night in the cavern with his\ncompanions, and when the day broke, he arose and prayed the\nmorning-prayer. Then he and his men made ready to do battle with\nthe infidels, and he encouraged them and promised them all good.\nThen they sallied out against the Christians, who cried out to\nthem from afar as soon as they saw them, saying, \"O Muslims, we\nhave taken your Sultan and your Vizier that has the ordering of\nyour affairs; and except ye leave fighting us, we will slay you\nto the last man, but if ye yield to us, we will take you to our\nking, who will make peace with you, on condition that you leave\nour country and return to your own land and do us no harm, and we\nwill do you no harm. If you accept, it will be well for you; but\nif you refuse, you have nothing to hope for but death. So now we\nhave told you, and this is our last word to you.\" When Sherkan\nheard this and was certified of the captivity of his brother and\nthe Vizier Dendan, he was greatly troubled and wept; his strength\nfailed him and he made sure of death, saying inwardly, \"I wonder\nwhat was the cause of their capture? Did they fail of respect to\nthe holy man or disobey him, or what?\" Then they rushed upon the\nunbelievers and slew great plenty of them. The valiant, that day,\nwas known from the faint-hearted, and the swords and spears were\ndyed with blood; for the infidels flocked on them from all sides,\nas flies flock to wine; but Sherkan and his men ceased not to\nwage the fight of those who fear not death nor let it hinder them\nfrom the pursuit of victory, till the valley ran with blood and\nthe earth was full of the slain. So fought they on till\nnightfall, when the two parties separated, each to his own place,\nand the Muslims returned to the grotto, where both victory and\nloss were manifest to them, and there was no dependence for them\nbut on God and the sword. That day there had been slain of them\nfive-and-thirty men of the chief amirs, and they had put to the\nsword thousands of the infidels, both horse and foot. When\nSherkan saw this, the case was grievous to him, and he said to\nhis comrades, \"What shall we do?\" \"That which God wills,\" replied\nthey. On the morning of the second day, Sherkan said to the\nremnant of his troop, \"If ye go forth to fight, not one of you\nwill remain alive and we have but little food and water left; so\nmeseems ye would do better to draw your swords and stand at the\ndoor of the cavern, to hinder any from entering. Peradventure the\nholy man may have traversed the Christian host, without being\nseen of the unbelievers, and may win to Constantinople and return\nwith ten thousand horse, to succour us against the infidels.\"\n\"This is the better course,\" replied they, \"and there is no doubt\nof its expediency.\" So they went out and held the opening of the\ngrotto, standing in its sides; and every one of the infidels who\nsought to come in, they slew. Thus did they fend off the enemy\nfrom the door of the cavern and make head against all their\nassaults, till the day departed and the night came with the\nshadows, by which time King Sherkan had but five-and-twenty men\nleft. Then said the Christians to each other, \"When shall these\nbattles have an end? We are weary of fighting the Muslims.\" And\none of them said, \"Up and let us fall on them, for there be but\nfive-and-twenty and of them left. If we cannot prevail on them to\nfight, let us light a fire upon them; and if they submit and\nyield themselves up, we will take them prisoners: else we will\nleave them to serve as fuel to the fire, so that they shall\nbecome a warning to men of understanding. May the Messiah not\nhave mercy on their fathers and may the sojourn of the Christians\nbe no abiding-place for them!\" So they repaired to the cavern and\nheaping up faggots in the door-way, set fire to them. Thereupon,\nSherkan and his companions made sure of death and yielded\nthemselves up. The unbelievers thought to kill them, but the\nknight their captain said to those who counselled this, \"It is\nfor none but King Afridoun to kill them, that he may quench\nthereby his thirst for vengeance; wherefore it behoves us to keep\nthem prisoners till the morrow, when we will journey with them to\nConstantinople and deliver them to King Afridoun, who shall deal\nwith them as he pleases.\" \"This is the right course,\" replied\nthey; and he commanded to pinion the prisoners and set guards\nover them. Then, as soon as it was dark, the infidels gave\nthemselves up to feasting and merry-making and called for wine\nand drank, till they all fell backward. Presently, Sherkan turned\nto his brother Zoulmekan and said to him \"My brother, how shall\nwe get free?\" \"By Allah,\" replied Zoulmekan, \"I know not; for we\nare here like birds in a cage.\" At this Sherkan was angry and\nsighed for excess of wrath and stretched himself, till his bonds\nbroke; whereupon he went up to the captain of the guard and\ntaking from his bosom the keys of the fetters, freed Zoulmekan\nand Dendan and the rest of the prisoners. Then said he, \"Let us\nslay three of these infidels and don their clothes, we three; so\nshall we be disguised as Greeks and pass through them without\ntheir knowing us, and win out to our army.\" \"This is no safe\ncounsel,\" replied Zoulmekan  \"for if we kill them, I fear some of\ntheir comrades may hear their groans and the enemy he roused upon\nus and kill us. It were better to make our way out of the pass.\"\nSo they agreed upon this and set out. When they had left the head\nof the defile a little way behind, they saw horses picketed and\ntheir riders sleeping by them: and Sherkan said to his brother,\n\"Let us each take one of these steeds.\" So they took\nfive-and-twenty horses, one for each man, and mounted and rode on\ntill they were out of reach, whilst God sent sleep upon the\ninfidels for a secret purpose of His own. Meanwhile, Sherkan\ngathered as many swords and spears as he could from the sleepers\nand faring on after his comrades, found them awaiting him, on\ncoals of fire on his account, and said to them, \"Have no fear,\nsince God protects us. I have that to propose, which meseems will\nadvantage us.\" \"What is it?\" asked they, and he said, \"It is that\nwe all climb to the mountain-top and cry out with one voice, 'God\nis most great! The army of Islam is upon you! God is most great!'\nIf we do this, their company will surely be dissolved, for they\nare too drunken to find out the trick, but will think that the\nMuslim troops have encompassed them on all sides and have become\nmingled with them; so they will fall on one another with their\nswords, in the confusion of drunkenness and sleep, and we will\ncleave them asunder with their own brands and the sword will go\nround amongst them till the morning.\" \"This plan is not good,\"\nreplied Zoulmekan. \"We should do better to make our way to our\narmy and keep silence; for, if we cry out, 'God is most great!'\nthey will wake and fall on us, and not one of us will escape.\"\n\"By Allah,\" rejoined Sherkan, \"though they be roused on us, I\ndesire urgently that ye fall in with my plan, for nothing but\ngood can come of it.\" So they agreed and ascending the mountain,\nshouted out, \"God is most great!\" And the hills and trees and\nstones cried out with them, \"God is most great!\" for the fear of\nthe Almighty. When the unbelievers heard this, they started up\nfrom sleep and did on their armour, crying out to one another and\nsaying, \"By the Messiah, the enemy is upon us.\" Then they fell\non each other and slew of their own men more than any knows save\nGod the Most High. As soon as it was day, they sought for the\ncaptives, but found them not, and their captains said, \"It\nwas the prisoners who did this; so up and hasten after them,\ntill ye overtake them, when we will make them quaff the cup of\npunishment; and let not trouble nor panic possess you.\" So they\nsprang to horse and rode after the fugitives, nor was it long\nbefore they overtook them and surrounded them. Wheu Zoulmekan saw\nthis, he was seized with terror and said to his brother, \"What I\nfeared is come upon us, and now it only remains for us to fight\nfor the faith.\" But Sherkan held his peace. Then Zoulmekan and\nhis companions rushed down from the hill-top, crying out, \"God is\nmost great!\" and addressed themselves to fight and sell their\nlives in the service of the Lord of the Faithful, when, behold,\nthey heard many voices crying out, \"There is no god but God! God\nis most great! Peace and salvation upon the Bringer of Glad\nTidings, the Admonisher of Mankind!\"[FN#110] So they turned\ntowards the sound and saw a company of Muslims pricking towards\nthem, whereupon their courage revived and Sherkan ran at the\nChristians, crying out, \"There is no god but God! God is most\ngreat!\" so that the earth shook as with an earthquake and the\nunbelievers broke asunder and fled into the mountains, whither\nthe Muslims followed them with sword and spear and made their\nheads fly from their bodies, till the day departed and the night\ncame with the darkness. Then the Muslims drew together and passed\nthe night rejoicing; and when the day broke and the morning arose\nwith its light and shone, they saw Behram, the captain of the\nMedes, and Rustem, the captain of the Turks, advancing to join\nthem, with twenty thousand cavaliers, as they were fierce lions.\nAs soon as they saw Zoulmekan, the chiefs dismounted and saluting\nhim, kissed the earth before him; and he said to them, \"Rejoice\nye in the glad news of the victory of the Muslims and the\ndiscomfiture of the unbelievers!\" Then they gave each other joy\nof their deliverance and of the greatness of the reward that\nawaited them in the world to come.\n\nNow the manner of the coming of the succours was as follows.\nWhen Behram and Rustem and the Chamberlain came in sight\nof Constantinople, with the Muslim army, they saw that the\nChristians had manned the walls and towers and set all their\nstrengths in order of defence, for that they knew of the approach\nof the host of Islam, through the craft and perfidy of the old\nwoman Dhat ed Dewahi. So, when they heard the clash of arms and\ntramp of horse-hoofs and saw the Mohammedan standards and the\nensigns of the Faith of the Unity of God emerging from the\ndust-clouds and heard the voices of the Muslims chanting the\nKoran aloud and glorifying the Compassionate One, and the army of\nIslam drew near, as it were the swollen sea, for the multitude of\nfootmen and horsemen and women and children, they poured forth\nlike a flight of locusts or the streaming of water from the\nrain-clouds; and the captain of the Turks said to the captain of\nthe Medes, \"O Amir, of a truth, we are in jeopardy from the\nmultitude of the foe on the walls. Look at yonder forts and at\nthe folk like the tempestuous sea with its clashing billows.\nIndeed the infidels out-number us a hundred times and we cannot\nbe sure but that some spy may inform them that we are without a\nleader. Verily, we are in peril from these enemies, whose number\nmay not be told and whose extent is limitless, especially in the\nabsence of King Zoulmekan and his brother Sherkan and the\nillustrious Vizier Dendan. If they know of this, they will be\nemboldened to attack us in their absence and will cut off us to\nthe last man; not one of us will escape alive. So it is my\ncounsel that we each take ten thousand horse and repair to the\nhermitage of Metrouhena and the Meadow of Meloukhna in quest of\nour brothers and our chiefs. If thou follow my counsel, it may be\nwe shall be the cause of their deliverance, in case they be hard\npressed by the infidels; and if not, no blame will rest on me.\nBut, if we go, it were well that we return quickly, for suspicion\nis part of prudence.\" The other fell in with his counsel; so they\nchose twenty thousand horse and set out for the hermitage by\ncross roads.\n\nTo return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she had delivered\nZoulmekan and his companions into the hands of the infidels, she\nmounted a swift horse, saying to the Christians, \"I mean to\nrejoin the Muslim army before Constantinople and contrive for\ntheir destruction; for I will tell them that their chiefs are\ndead, and when they hear this, their alliance will be dissolved\nand their confederation broken up and their host dispersed. Then\nwill I go to King Afridoun and my son King Herdoub, and they will\nsally forth on them with their troops and destroy them, nor leave\none of them alive.\" So she mounted and fared on across country\nall that night, and at daybreak, she sighted the army of Behram\nand Rustem advancing towards her. So she turned aside into a\nwayside copse and alighting there, hid her horse among the trees,\nsaying to herself, \"Belike they are returning, routed, from the\nassault of Constantinople.\" However, as she drew near, she saw\nthat their standards were not reversed and knew that they were\nnot retreating because of defeat, but that they feared for their\nking and their chiefs. When she was assured of this, she hastened\nup to them, running at the top of her speed, like a stubborn\nSatan as she was, and cried out, \"Hasten, O soldiers of the\nMerciful One, hasten to the holy war against the hosts of Satan!\"\nWhen Behram saw her, he dismounted and kissing the earth before\nher, said, \"What is behind thee, O friend of God?\"[FN#111] \"Do\nnot ask of evil case and sore disasters,\" answered she. \"Know\nthat, when our comrades had taken the treasure from the hermitage\nand were on their way back to Constantinople, there came out on\nthem a great host and a fierce of unbelievers.\" And she repeated\nto them the story, in such wise as to fill them with trouble and\nterror, and added, \"The most of them are dead, and there are but\nfive-and-twenty left.\" \"O holy man,\" said Behram, \"when didst\nthou leave them?\" \"But last night,\" replied she. \"Glory be to\nGod,\" exclaimed he, \"Who hath rolled up the distance for thee\nlike a carpet, so that thou hast sped thus, walking upon thy feet\nand leant upon a palm-tree staff! But thou art one of the friends\nof God, that fly like birds, when possessed by the stress of His\ncommandment!\" Then he mounted his horse, perplexed and confounded\nfor that which he had heard from the lying old beldam and saying,\n\"There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High! Verily\nour labour is lost and our hearts are heavy within us, for our\nking is a prisoner and those who are with him!\" Then they fared\non in haste and stayed not the whole of that day and night, till\nat daybreak they reached the head of the pass and heard Zoulmekan\nand Sherkan shouting, \"There is no god but God! God is most\ngreat!\" Whereupon they drove at the unbelievers and overwhelmed\nthem, as the torrent overwhelms the plains, shouting out their\nwar-cries, till the stoutest champions were affrighted and the\nmountains were cloven by the noise. On the morrow, they\nforegathered with Zoulmekan, and each recognised the other as has\nbeen before set out. Then they kissed the earth before the King\nand his brother Sherkan, and the latter told them all that had\nbefallen him and his men in the grotto, whereat they marvelled\nand said, \"Hasten back with us to Constantinople, for we left our\ncompanions there, and our hearts are with them.\" So they made\nhaste to depart, commending themselves to the Subtle, the\nAll-wise; and Zoulmekan exhorted the Muslims to steadfastness,\nreciting the following verses:\n\nTo thee be the praise, O Thou that meritest thanks and praise!\n     And mayest Thou never cease to succour me all my days!\nI grew up in exile, but Thou, my God, wast ever my friend. 'Twas\n     Thou didst decree me success and broughtest me forth of the\n     maze.\nThou hast given me lordship and wealth and fortune and girded my\n     midst With the falchion of valour and wreathed my forehead\n     with victory's bays.\nThou hast shadowed me under Thy wings and made me to prosper\n     amain And hast graced me with favours untold, of Thy\n     bounties abounding always:\nThou hast saved me from all that I feared, by the counsel of him\n     whom I trust, The Vizier and chief of the chiefs, the hero\n     and pride of our days.\nBy Thy favour we fell on the Greeks and smote them with sword and\n     with spear; But again to the fight they returned, in\n     garments blood-red for affrays.\nSo I feigned to be routed and flee and give back from the fight;\n     then I turned On the toe, as the fierce lion turns on the\n     hunters, that find him at gaze.\nI left them laid low on the plain, as 'twere they were drunken\n     with wine, Not the wine that is pressed from the grape, but\n     that of death's cup of amaze;\nWhilst their ships all fell under our hand and ours was the\n     empery grown: From the East to the West, sea and shore, we\n     were lords of the lands and the ways.\nThen there came to our camp the recluse, the saint, whose\n     miraculous power Is blazoned in desert and town, wherever\n     the sun sheds its rays.\nHe joined us, his vengeance to wreak on all that believe not in\n     God. Indeed, it is known to the folk what came of our strife\n     and our frays.\nThey slew of us some, but they woke on the morrow in Paradise,\n     Each lodged in a palace on high, whereunder a river strays.\n\nWhen Zoulmekan had made an end of reciting these verses, his\nbrother Sherkan gave him joy of his safety and praise for that he\nhad done; after which they set out by forced marches to rejoin\ntheir army.\n\nMeanwhile, Dhat ed Dewahi, after she had spoken with Rustem and\nBehram, returned to the coppice, where she took her horse and\nmounting, sped on, till she drew near the host of the Muslims\nthat lay leaguer before Constantinople, when she lighted down\nfrom her steed and led it to the Chamberlain's pavilion. When he\nsaw her, he signed to her with his hand and said, \"Welcome, O\npious recluse!\" Then he questioned her of what had befallen, and\nshe repeated to him her disquieting and deluding report, saying,\n\"Indeed I fear for the Amirs Rustem and Behram, for that I met\nthem on the way and sent them and their following to the King and\nhis companions. They are but twenty thousand horse, and the\nunbelievers are more in number than they; so I would now have\nthee send of the rest of thy troops in haste to their succour,\nlest they be slain to the last man.\" And she said to them\n\"Hasten! Hasten!\" When the Chamberlain and the Muslims heard\nthese her words, their hearts sank within them and they wept; but\nshe said to them, \"Ask aid of God and be patient under this\naffliction, taking example by those that have been before you of\nthe people of Islam, for God hath prepared Paradise, with its\npalaces, for those who die martyrs; and needs must all die, but\ndeath is most praiseworthy, when it comes in fighting for the\nFaith.\" When the Chamberlain heard this speech of the accursed\nold woman, he called for the Amir Behram's brother, a cavalier\nnamed Terkash, and choosing out for him ten thousand intrepid\nveterans, bade him set out at once. So he departed forthright and\nmarched all that day and the next night, till he neared the\nMuslims. When the day dawned, Sherkan saw the dust of them and\nfeared for his companions, saying, \"If these troops that are\nnearing us be Muslims, our victory is assured; but if they be\nChristians, there is no gainsaying the decrees of Fate.\" Then he\nturned to his brother Zoulmekan and said to him, \"Fear not, for I\nwill ransom thee with my life from destruction. If these be\nMuslim troops then were it an increase of God's favours; but if\nthey be our foes, there is nothing for it but to fight them. Yet\ndo I long to see the holy man once again before I die, so he may\npray for me that I may not die except a martyr.\" Whilst he was\nthus speaking, behold, there appeared the banners with the words,\n\"There is no god but God and Mohammed is His Apostle\" inscribed\non them, and he cried out to the new-comers, saying, \"How is it\nwith the Muslims?\" \"They are in weal and safety,\" replied they;\n\"and we come not hither but out of concern for you.\" Then the\nchief of the succours dismounted and kissing the earth before\nSherkan, said, \"O my lord, the Sultan and the Vizier Dendan and\nRustem and my brother Behram, are they all in safety?\" \"They are\nall well,\" answered the prince; \"but who brought thee tidings of\nus?\" \"It was the holy man,\" said Terkash. \"He told us that he had\nmet my brother Behram and Rustem and had sent them to you and\nalso that the infidels had encompassed you and were more in\nnumber than you; yet meseems the case is the contrary of this and\nthat you are victorious.\" \"And how did the holy man reach you?\"\nasked Sherkan. \"Walking on his feet,\" replied the Amir; \"and he\nhad compassed, in the space of a single day and night, ten days'\njourney for a diligent horseman.\" \"Verily, he is a friend of\nGod,\" said Sherkan; \"but where is he now?\" Quoth Terkash, \"We\nleft him with our troops, the people of Faith, encouraging them\nto do battle with the infidels and rebels.\" Therewith Sherkan was\nglad and thanked God for their own deliverance and that of the\nholy man and commended the dead to the mercy of God saying, \"This\nwas written in the Book of Fate.\" Then they set out for\nConstantinople by forced marches, and whilst they were on the\nroad thither, behold, a cloud of dust arose before them and\nspread till the prospect was hidden and the day darkened by it.\nSherkan looked at it and said, \"Verily, I fear lest this be the\ninfidels who have routed the army of Islam, for that this dust\ncovers the country and blots out the two horizons.\" Presently\nthere appeared midmost the dust a pillar of darkness and came\ntowards them, blacker than the blackness of (evil) fortune and\nmore dreadful than the terrors of the Day of Judgment.\n\nHorse and foot hastened up to look at it and know its meaning,\nwhen, behold, they saw it to be the recluse aforesaid; so they\ncrowded round him to kiss his hands, and he cried out, \"O people\nof the best of men[FN#112], the lamp of the darkness, the\ninfidels have overcome the Muslims by craft, for they fell upon\nthem in their tents, whilst they deemed themselves in safety, and\nmade a sore slaughter of them; so hasten to the aid of the\nbelievers in the unity of God and deliver them from those that\ndeny Him!\" When Sherkan heard this, his heart was sore troubled\nand he alighted from his horse, in amazement, and kissed the\nrecluse's hands and feet. In like wise did his brother Zoulmekan\nand the rest of the troops, except the Vizier Dendan, who\ndismounted not, but said, \"By Allah, my heart revolts from this\ndevotee, for I never knew aught but evil come of these that make\na show of devotion to religion. Leave him and hasten to rejoin\nyour comrades for this fellow is of those that are outcast from\nthe gate of mercy of the Lord of the Two Worlds! How often have I\ncome out to war with King Omar ben Ennuman and trodden the earth\nof these lands!\" \"Put away from thee this foul thought,\" said\nSherkan. \"Hast thou not seen this holy man excite the faithful to\nbattle, recking nought of spears and swords? Wherefore, slander\nhim not, for slander is blameworthy and the flesh of pious folk\nis poisoned. Look how he encourages us to battle, and did not God\nlove him, He had not rolled up the distance for him (like a\ncarpet), after He had aforetime cast him into grievous torment?\"\nThen Sherkan let bring a Nubian mule for her riding and said to\nher, \"Mount, pious man, God-fearing and holy!\" But she refused,\nfeigning self-denial, that she might attain her end: and they\nknew not that the pretended devotee was such an one as he of whom\nthe poet says:\n\nHe prayeth and fasteth amain for an end that he hath in view.\n     When once he has gained his end, fasting and prayer, adieu!\n\nSo she walked among the horsemen and the footmen, like a crafty\nfox meditating an assault, and began to uplift her voice,\nchanting the Koran aloud and celebrating the praises of the\nCompassionate One. Then they pressed forward till they reached\nthe Mohammedan camp, where Sherkan found the Muslims in a state\nof confusion and the Chamberlain upon the brink of retreat,\nwhilst the sword wrought havoc among the faithful, good and bad.\nNow the cause of this weakness among the Muslims was that the\naccursed old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, when she saw that Behram\nand Rustem had set forward with their troops to join Sherkan\nand Zoulmekan, repaired to the camp or the Muslims before\nConstantinople and wrought upon the Chamberlain to despatch the\nAmir Terkash, as hath been before set out, to the further succour\nof the princes, purposing in this to divide the Muslim forces and\nweaken them. Then she left them and going to the walls of\nConstantinople, called with a loud voice on the knights of the\nGreeks, saying, \"Throw me down a cord that I may tie thereto this\nletter, which do ye carry to King Afridoun and my son King\nHerdoub, that they may read it and do as is written therein.\" So\nthey let down a string and she tied thereto a letter, to the\nfollowing purport, \"From the chiefest of calamities and the\ngreatest of afflictions, Dhat ed Dewahi, to King Afridoun. Know\nthat I have contrived a device for the destruction of the\nMuslims, so rest you quiet. I made their Sultan and the Vizier\nDendan prisoners and returned to their camp and acquainted them\ntherewith, whereupon their power was broken and their strength\nweakened. Moreover, I have wrought on them to send ten thousand\nmen under the Amir Terkash to the succour of the captives, and\nthere be now but few men left with the besiegers. Wherefore, it\nis my counsel that ye sally forth, with all your power, whilst it\nis yet day, and fall on them in their tents and slay them to the\nlast man for the Messiah looks down upon you and the Virgin\nfavours you; and I hope that the Messiah will not forget this\nthat I have done.\" When this letter came to King Afridoun, he\nrejoiced greatly and sending at once for King Herdoub, read the\nletter to him, whereat he was exceeding glad and said, \"See the\ncraft of my mother; verily it dispenses with swords, and her\naspect stands in stead of the terrors of the Day of Fear.\" \"May\nthe Messiah not bereave us of her,\" rejoined Afridoun, \"nor\ndeprive her of her craft and knavery[FN#113].\" Then he gave\norders for the sally, and the news was noised abroad in the city.\nSo the Christian troops and soldiers of the Cross drew their keen\nsabres and sallied forth of the city, shouting out their impious\nwar-cries and blaspheming the Lord of all creatures. When the\nChamberlain saw them, he said, \"Behold, the Christians are upon\nus, whilst the most part of our troops are gone to the succour of\nKing Zoulmekan! They surely know of the absence of our Sultan and\nmost like they will attack us.\" Therewith he waxed angry and\ncried out, \"Ho, soldiers of Islam and defenders of the True\nFaith, if you flee, you are lost, and if you stand fast, you will\nconquer! Know that courage lies in endurance and that no case is\nso desperate but that God is able to bring about its relief. May\nHe bless you and look upon you with eyes of compassion! \"Then\nthe Muslims cried out, \"God is most great!\" and the believers in\nthe Divine Unity shouted the profession of the Faith and the two\nhosts joined battle. The mill-wheels of war whirled round, with\ncutting and thrusting; the swords and spears played and the\nplains and valleys were filled with blood. The priests and monks\nprayed aloud, girding on their girdles and uplifting the crosses,\nwhilst the Muslims shouted out the praises of the Requiting King\nand chanted verses of the Koran. The hosts of the Compassionate\nGod fought against the legions of Satan and heads flew from\nbodies, what while the good angels hovered above the people of\nthe Chosen Prophet, nor did the sword cease to play, till the day\ndeparted and the night came with the shadows. Now the unbelievers\nhad encompassed the Muslims and made sure of overcoming the host\nof the True Faith with the dawn, deeming not that they could\nescape destruction. As soon as it was light, the Chamberlain\nmounted, he and his men, trusting that God would help them, and\nthe two armies came together and joined battle. The fight raged\nall along the line and heads flew from bodies, whilst the brave\nstood fast and the faint-hearted turned their backs and fled; and\nthe Judge of death judged and gave sentence, so that the\nchampions fell from their saddles and the meadows were heaped\nwith the slain. Then the Muslims began to give back and the\nGreeks took possession of some of their tents; whereupon the\nMuslims were about to break and retreat, when behold, up came\nSherkan, with the rest of their troops and the standards of the\nbelievers in the Unity of God, and fell upon the infidels,\nfollowed by Zoulmekan and the Vizier Dendan and the Amirs Behram\nand Rustem and Terkash. When the Christians saw this, they lost\ntheir senses and their reason fled, and the dust clouds rose till\nthey covered the country, whilst the true believers joined their\npious comrades. Then Sherkan accosted the Chamberlain and praised\nhim for his steadfastness, and he in turn gave him joy of his\ntimely succour. Therewith the Muslims rejoiced and their hearts\nwere fortified; so they rushed upon the foe and devoted\nthemselves to God, in the battle for the Faith. When the infidels\nsaw the Mohammedan standards and read thereon the words\nproclaiming the Unity of God, they shrieked aloud and said,\n\"Woe!\" and \"Ruin!\" and besought succour of the priests and monks.\nMoreover they fell to calling upon Jesus and Mary and the\nabhorrent Cross and stayed their hands from the battle, whilst\nKing Afridoun went up to King Herdoub (to consult with him), for\nthe two kings stood one at the head of each wing. Now there was\nwith them also a famous cavalier named Lawiya, who was in command\nof the centre, and the infidels drew out in battle-array; but\nindeed they were full of alarm and disquiet. Meanwhile, the\nMuslims arrayed their forces and Sherkan came to his brother\nZoulmekan and said to him, \"O king of the age, doubtless they\nmean to joust? and that is also what we desire; but it is my wish\nto set in our van-ward battle the stoutest-hearted of our men:\nfor wise ordering is the half of life.\" \"As thou wilt, O man of\ngood counsel,\" replied the Sultan. \"It is my wish,\" added\nSherkan, \"to be myself in the centre of the line, with the Vizier\nDendan on my left and thee on my right, whilst Behram and Rustem\ncommand the right and left wing; and thou, O mighty King, shalt\nbe under the standards and the ensigns, for that thou art our\nstay and upon thee, after God, is our dependence, and we will all\nbe thy ransom from aught that can harm thee.\" Zoulmekan thanked\nhim and the battle-cries arose and the sabres were drawn, when,\nbehold, there came forth a cavalier from the Grecian ranks; and\nas he drew near, they saw that he was mounted on a slow-paced\nmule, fleeing with her master from the shock of swords. Her\nhousings were of white silk, surmounted by a carpet of Cashmere\nstuff, and on her back sat a gray-bearded old man of comely and\nreverend aspect, clad in a gown of white wool. He spurred her on\ntill he came to the Muslims, to whom said he, \"I am an ambassador\nto you, and all an ambassador has to do is to deliver his\nmessage; so give me a safe conduct and the right of speech, that\nI may do my errand to you.\" \"Thou art in safety,\" replied\nSherkan; \"fear neither stroke of sword nor thrust of lance.\"\nThereupon the old man dismounted and taking the cross from his\nneck, (laid it) before the Sultan and carried himself humbly to\nhim, after the fashion of one who hopes for fair treatment. Then\nsaid the Muslims to him, \"What is thy news?\" He answered, \"I am\nan ambassador from King Afridoun, whom I counselled to avert the\ndestruction of all these manly bodies and images of the\nCompassionate; and it seemed good to him to stop the shedding of\nblood and limit the strife to the encounter of two horsemen in\nbattle; so he agreed to this and says to you, 'Verily, I will\nransom my troops with my life; so let the Muslim king do likewise\nand ransom his army with his life. If he kill me, there will be\nno stability left in the army of the Greeks, and if I kill him,\nit will be the like with the Muslims.'\" When Sherkan heard this,\nhe said, \"O monk, we agree to this, for it is just; and behold I\nwill joust: with him, for I am champion of the Muslims, even as\nhe of the Christians; and if he slay me, he will have gained the\nvictory and there will remain for the Muslim army nothing but\nflight. So return to him, O monk, and tell him that the combat\nshall be for to-morrow, seeing that to-day we are weary with our\njourney; but after rest there shall be neither reproach nor\nblame.\" So the monk returned, rejoicing, to King Afridoun and\nKing Herdoub and told them what Sherkan had said, whereat\nAfridoun was exceeding glad and lightened of anxiety and trouble\nand said in himself, \"No doubt but this Sherkan is the hardest\nhitter of them with the sword and the dourest at push of pike;\nand when I have slain him, their hearts will fail them and their\nstrength will be broken.\" Now Dhat ed Dewahi had written to King\nAfridoun of this and told him that Sherkan was a cavalier of\ncavaliers and a champion of champions and had warned him against\nhim; but Afridoun was a stalwart cavalier, who fought in many a\nfashion; he could hurl stones and javelins and smite with the\niron mace and feared not the doughtiest of prowess in the dint of\nwar. So when he heard from the monk that Sherkan agreed to joust,\nhe well-nigh lost his reason for stress of joy, for that he had\nconfidence in himself and deemed that none could stand against\nhim. Then the infidels passed the night in joy and merry-making\nand wine-drinking, and as soon as it was day, the two armies drew\nout in battle array, with their brown spears and white swords.\nPresently, they saw a cavalier prick out into the plain, mounted\non a stout and swift charger equipped for war: he was of great\nstature and was clad in a cuirass of steel made for stress of\nbattle. On his breast he wore a jewelled mirror and in his hand\nhe bore a keen scimitar and a lance of khelenj wood[FN#114] of\ncurious Frankish workmanship. He uncovered his face and cried\nout, saying, \"Whoso knoweth me hath enough of me, and whoso\nknoweth me not shall see who I am. I am Afridoun he who is\noverborne by the blessing of Shewahi Dhat ed Dewahi.\" Before he\nhad made an end of speaking, Sherkan, the champion of the\nMuslims, spurred out to meet him, mounted on a sorrel horse worth\na thousand [dinars] of red gold, with housings embroidered in\npearls and jewels, and girt with a sword of watered Indian steel,\nthat shore through necks and made hard ventures easy. He drove\nhis charger between the two armies, whilst the horsemen all gazed\non him, and cried out to Afridoun, saying, \"Out on thee, O\naccursed one, dost thou think me as one of the horsemen thou hast\nmet, that cannot stand against thee in the mellay?\" Then they\nrushed upon one another and came together like two mountains\ncrashing or two seas breaking each against each. So they advanced\nand retreated and drew together and parted and ceased not to\njoust and battle with stroke of sword and thrust of spear, whilst\nthe two armies looked on. Some said, \"Afridoun will conquer,\" and\nother some, \"Sherkan;\" and they stayed not their hands from the\nbattle, till the clamour of the bystanders subsided and the\ndust-clouds rose and the day waned and the sun began to grow\npale. Then King Afridoun cried out to Sherkan, saying, \"By the\nvirtue of the Messiah and the True Faith, thou art a doughty\nhorseman and a stalwart fighting man, but thou art guileful and\nthy nature is not that of the freeborn and meseemeth thy fashion\nis other than praiseworthy nor is thy fighting that of a prince;\nfor see, thy people even thee with slaves[FN#115] and bring thee\nout a charger other than thine, that thou mayst (mount him and)\nreturn to the battle. But by the virtue of the Messiah, thy\nfighting fatigues me and I am weary of cutting and thrusting with\nthee; and if thou wert purposed to do battle with me tonight thou\nwouldst not change aught of thy harness nor thy horse till thou\nhadst shown the cavaliers thy valour and skill in fight.\" When\nSherkan heard him say that his own folk evened him with slaves,\nhe was angry and turned towards his men, meaning to sign to them\nand bid them not prepare him change of armour or horse, when,\nbehold, Afridoun shook his javelin in the air and hurled it at\nSherkan. Now, when the latter turned, he found none behind him\nand knew that this was a trick of the accursed infidel; so he\nwheeled round in haste and seeing the javelin coming at him,\nswerved from it, till his head was level with the pommel of his\nsaddle. The javelin grazed his breast and pierced the skin, for\nSherkan was high-bosomed: so he gave one cry and swooned away.\nThen the accursed Afridoun was glad, thinking that he had slain\nhim, and called to the Christians to rejoice, whereat the\ninfidels were encouraged and the true believers wept. When\nZoulmekan saw his brother reeling from side to side in his\nsaddle, so that he had well-nigh fallen, he sent cavaliers to his\nsuccour; whereupon the infidels drove at the Muslims and the two\nhosts joined battle, whilst the keen Yemen blades played among\nthem. The first to reach Sherkan were Dendan and Rustem and\nBehram, who found him on the point of falling off his horse; so\nthey stayed him in his saddle and carried him to Zoulmekan; then\ngiving him in charge to his servants, returned to the battle.\nThen the strife redoubled and the weapons clashed, and there was\nnought to be heard but the roar of the battle nor to be seen but\nblood flowing and necks bending beneath the blows; nor did the\nswords cease to play on men's necks nor the strife to rage more\nand more, till the most part of the night was past and the two\nhosts were weary of battle. So they called a truce and each army\nreturned to its tents, whilst all the infidels repaired to King\nAfridoun and kissed the earth before him, and the priests and\nmonks wished him joy of his victory over Sherkan. Then he went up\ninto Constantinople and sat down upon his throne; and King\nHerdoub came to him and said, \"May the Messiah strengthen thine\narm and cease never to be thy helper and hearken to the prayers\nof my pious mother on thy behalf! Know that the Muslims can make\nno stand, now they have lost Sherkan.\" \"To-morrow,\" replied\nAfridoun, \"shall end the war, for I will seek out Zoulmekan and\nslay him, and their army shall turn tail and take to flight.\"\n\nMeanwhile, Zoulmekan returned to his tent thinking of nothing but\nhis brother, and going in to the latter's pavilion, found him in\nevil plight; whereat he was sore troubled and sent for the Vizier\nDendan and the Amirs Behram and Rustem, that he might take\ncounsel with them. When they entered, they were all of accord to\nsummon the physicians to treat Sherkan, and they wept and said,\n\"The age will not lightly afford his like!\" They watched by him\nall that night, and towards morning there came to them the\npretended recluse, weeping. When Zoulmekan saw her, he rose to\nreceive her; and she stroked Sherkan's wound with her hand,\nchanting somewhat of the Koran and repeating some of the signs of\nthe Compassionate One. Then she kept watch over him till the day,\nwhen he came to himself and opening his eyes, moved his tongue in\nhis mouth and spoke. At this Zoulmekan rejoiced, saying, \"Verily\nthe blessing of the holy man hath taken effect on him!\" And\nSherkan said, \"Praised be God for recovery; indeed, I am well\nnow. Yonder accursed one played me false, and but that I swerved\naside quicklier than lightning, the javelin had pierced me\nthrough and through. So praised be God for my safety! How is it\nwith the Muslims?\" \"They weep for thee,\" answered Zoulmekan.\nQuoth Sherkan, \"I am well and in good case; but where is the holy\nman?\" Now she was sitting by him and said, \"At thy head.\" So he\nturned to her and kissed her hand; and she said, \"O my son, it\nbehoves thee to arm thyself with patience, and God shall make\ngreat thy reward; for the guerdon is measured by that which has\nbeen endured.\" Quoth Sherkan, \"Pray for me,\" and she did so. As\nsoon as it was morning and the day arose and shone, the Muslims\nsallied out into the field, and the Christians made ready to cut\nand thrust. Then the host of the Muslims advanced and offered\nbattle; and Zoulmekan and Afridoun made ready to tilt at one\nanother. But when Zoulmekan sallied out into the field, there\ncame with him Dendan and Behram and the Chamberlain, saying, \"We\nwill be thy sacrifice.\" \"By the Holy House and the Well Zemzem\nand the Stead of Abraham,\"[FN#116] exclaimed he, \"I will not be\nhindered from going forth against these barbarians!\" So he rode\nout into the field and played with sword and spear, till both\narmies wondered; then he rushed upon the right wing of the Greek\narmy and slew two knights and in like manner dealt he with the\nleft wing. Then he stayed his steed in the midst of the field and\ncried out, \"Where is Afridoun, that I may make him drink the cup\nof humiliation?\" But King Herdoub conjured Afridoun not to budge\nfrom the field, saying, \"O King, it was thy turn yesterday:\nto-day it is mine. I reck not of his prowess.\" So he pricked out\ntowards Zoulmekan, with a sabre in his hand and under him a jet\nblack horse, swift as he were Abjer, he that was Antar's horse,\neven as says the poet:\n\nHe vies with the glance of the eye on a swift-footed steed, That\n     fares as it had a mind to outstrip Fate.\nThe hue of his hide is the blackest of all things black, Like\n     night, when the shadows shroud it in sable state.\nThe sound of his neighing troubles the hearts of men, As it were\n     thunder that echoes in heaven's gate.\nIf he run a race with the wind, he leads the way, Nor can the\n     lightning outstrip him, early or late.\n\nThen each rushed upon the other, guarding himself from his blows\nand showing the rare qualities that were in him and the wonders\nof his prowess; and they fell to advancing and retreating and\nceased not to flee and return to the attack and wheel hither and\nthither, till the breasts of the bystanders were straitened (for\nanxiety) and they were weary of waiting for the event. At last,\nZoulmekan cried out and rushing upon Herdoub, King of Caesarea,\ndealt him such a blow that he shore his head from his body and\nmade an end of him. When the infidels saw this, they all rushed\nat Zoulmekan, who met them in mid-field, and they fell to cutting\nand thrusting, till the blood ran in streams. Then the Muslims\ncried out, \"God is most great;\" and \"There is no god but God;\"\nand invoked blessings on the Giver of Good Tidings, the\nAdmonisher of Mankind,[FN#117] and there befell a great battle.\nBut God sent help to the faithful and confusion to the infidels.\nThe Vizier Dendan shouted, \"Avenge King Omar ben Ennuman and his\nson Sherkan!\" and baring his head, cried out to the Turks. Now\nthere were beside him more than twenty thousand horse, who all\ncharged with him as one man, and the unbelievers found nothing\nfor it but flight. So they turned their backs to flee, whilst the\nkeen sabres wrought havoc amongst them and the Muslims slew of\nthem that day more than fifty thousand cavaliers and took more\nthan that: and much people also were slain at the going in of the\ngates by reason of the greatness of the crowd, whilst the\nChristians mounted the walls, fearing an assault. Then the\nMuslims returned to their tents, fortified and victorious, and\nKing Zoulmekan went in to his brother, whom he found in the most\njoyous case. So he returned thanks to the Bountiful, the Exalted\nOne and gave Sherkan joy of his deliverance. \"Verily,\" answered\nhe, \"we are all under the benediction of this holy and God-fearing\nman, nor would you have been victorious, but for his\neffectual prayers; for all day he hath never ceased to invoke\nvictory on the Muslims. I found strength return to me, when I\nheard you cry, 'God is most great!' for then I knew you had\ngotten the better of your enemies. But now tell me, O my brother,\nwhat befell thee.\" So he told him all that had passed, how he had\nslain the accursed Herdoub and he had gone to the malediction of\nGod; and Sherkan praised his prowess. When Dhat ed Dewahi heard\ntell of her son's death, the blood fled from her face and her\neyes ran over with streaming tears; however, she kept her counsel\nand feigned to the Muslims that she was glad and wept for excess\nof joy: but she said in herself, \"By the virtue of the Messiah,\nthere remains no profit of my life, if I make not his heart bleed\nfor his brother Sherkan, even as he has made mine bleed for King\nHerdoub, the mainstay of the Christian faith and the hosts of the\nCross!\"\n\nThe Vizier Dendan and Zoulmekan and the Chamberlain abode with\nSherkan, till they had dressed his wound and anointed it; after\nwhich they gave him medicines and he began to recover his\nstrength; whereat they were exceeding glad and told the troops,\nwho rejoiced greatly, saying, \"To-morrow he will ride with us and\ntake part in the siege.\" Then said Sherkan to them, \"You have\nfought all day and are weary, and it behoves that you return to\nyour tents and sleep and not watch.\" So they went away all to\ntheir tents and there remained none with Sherkan but Dhat ed\nDewahi and a few servants. He talked with her awhile, then lay\ndown to rest, he and his servants, and soon sleep overcame them\nall and they were as dead men. But the old woman abode awake and\nlooking at Sherkan, saw that he was drowned in sleep. So she\nsprang to her feet, as she were a bald she-bear or a speckled\nsnake, and drew from her girdle a poisoned knife, that would have\nmelted a rock if laid thereon; then going up to Sherkan, she drew\nthe knife across his throat and cut off his head. After this, she\nwent up to the sleeping servants and cut off their heads also,\nlest they should awake. Then she left the tent and made for the\nSultan's pavilion, but finding the guards awake, turned to that\nof the Vizier. He was reading the Koran and seeing her, said,\n\"Welcome, O holy man!\" When she heard this, her heart trembled\nand she said, \"The reason of my coming hither at this time is\nthat I heard the voice of a friend of God and am going to him.\"\nThen she went away, but the Vizier said to himself, \"By Allah, I\nwill follow the holy man to-night!\" So he rose and went after\nher: but the accursed old woman heard his footsteps and knew that\nhe was following her: wherefore she feared discovery and said in\nherself, \"Except I put him off with some trick, he will discover\nme.\" So she turned and said to him from afar, \"Harkye, Vizier, I\nam going after this saint, that I may know who he is; and after I\nwill ask his leave for thee to join him. Then I will come back\nand tell thee; for I fear to let thee accompany me, without his\nleave, lest he take umbrage at seeing thee with me.\" When the\nVizier heard this, he was abashed and knew not what to answer; so\nhe left her and returning to his tent, would have slept; but\nsleep was not favourable to him and the world was straitened upon\nhim. So he rose and went out, saying in himself, \"I will go talk\nwith Sherkan till the morning.\" But when he came to Sherkan's\ntent, he found the blood running like a rivulet and saw the\nservants lying dead. At this he gave a cry that aroused all who\nwere asleep, and they hastened to him and seeing the blood\nstreaming, set up a clamour of weeping and lamentation. The noise\nawoke the Sultan, who enquired what was the matter, and they said\nto him, \"Sherkan and his servants are murdered.\" So he rose in\nhaste and entering the tent, saw his brother's headless trunk and\nthe Vizier by it shrieking aloud. At this sight, he swooned away\nand all the troops stood round him, weeping and crying aloud,\ntill he came to himself, when he looked at Sherkan and wept sore,\nwhilst all who were present did the like. Then said Zoulmekan,\n\"Know ye who did this, and how is it I see not the recluse, him\nwho hath put away the things of the world?\" Quoth the Vizier,\n\"And who should have been the cause of this our affliction, save\nthat devotee of Satan? By Allah, my heart shrank from him from\nthe first, because I know that all who profess to be absorbed in\nthe things of the faith are corrupt and treacherous!\" And he told\nthe King how he would have followed the devotee, but he forbade\nhim; whereupon the folk broke out into weeping and lamentation\nand besought Him who is ever near at hand, Him who answereth\nprayer, to cause the false recluse, who denied His evidences, to\nfall into their hands. Then they laid Sherkan out and buried him\nin the mountain aforesaid, mourning over his renowned virtues,\nafter which they looked for the opening of the city-gate; but it\nopened not and none appeared to them on the walls; whereat they\nwondered exceedingly, and King Zoulmekan said, \"By Allah, I will\nnot turn back from them, though I tarry here years and years,\ntill I take my wreak of my brother Sherkan and lay Constantinople\nin ruins and slay the King of the Nazarenes, even if death\novercome me and I be at rest from this sorry world!\" Then he\nbrought out the treasure he had taken from the hermitage of\nMetrouhena and mustering the troops, divided it amongst them, nor\nwas there one of them but he gave him what contented him.\nMoreover, he called together three hundred horse of every\ndivision and said to them, \"Do ye send succours to your family,\nfor I am resolved to camp here, till I have taken my revenge for\nmy brother Sherkan, even if I die in this place.\" Then he\nsummoned couriers and gave them letters and charged them to do\nthe soldiers' errands to their families and let them know that\nthey were safe and in good heart, but that they were encamped\nbefore Constantinople, resolved either to destroy it or perish,\nand that, though they should abide there months and years, they\nwould not depart thence till they had taken the city. Moreover,\nhe bade Dendan write to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman, acquainting\nher with what had befallen them and with their situation and\ncommending his child to her care, since that, when he went out to\nwar, his wife was near her delivery and must needs by that time\nhave been brought to bed; and if she had given birth to a son, he\ncharged the messengers to hasten their return and bring him the\nnews. Then he gave them money and they set out at once, and all\nthe people came out to take leave of them and entrust them with\nthe money and the messages they wished to send to their families.\nAfter they had departed, Zoulmekan turned to the Vizier and\ncommanded him to push forward with the army against the city\nwalls. So the troops advanced, but found none on the walls,\nwhereat they marvelled and Zoulmekan was troubled.\n\nTo return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she had slain Sherkan,\nshe hastened to the walls of Constantinople and called out in the\nGreek tongue to the guards, to throw her down a rope. Quoth they,\n\"Who art thou?\" and she said, \"I am the princess Dhat ed Dewahi.\"\nThey knew her and threw her down a rope, to which she tied\nherself, and they drew her up into the city. Then she went in to\nKing Afridoun and said to him, \"What is this I hear from the\nMuslims? They say that my son King Herdoub is slain.\" He\nanswered, \"It is true;\" and when she heard this, she shrieked out\nand wept so grievously, that she made Afridoun and all who were\npresent weep also. Then she told the King how she had slain\nSherkan and thirty of his servants, whereat he rejoiced and\nthanked her and kissed her hands and exhorted her to resignation\nfor the loss of her son. \"By the Messiah,\" said she, \"I will not\nrest content with killing one of the Muslim dogs in revenge for\nmy son, a king of the kings of the age! But I will assuredly make\nshift to kill the Sultan Zoulmekan and the Vizier Dendan and the\nChamberlain and Rustem and Behram and ten thousand cavaliers of\nthe army of Islam to boot; for it shall never be that my son's\nhead be paid with the blood-wit of Sherkan's head only.\" Then\nsaid she to Afridoun, \"It is my wish that mourning be made for my\nson Herdoub and that the girdle be cut and the crosses broken.\"\n\"Do what thou wilt,\" replied Afridoun; \"I will not gainsay thee\nin aught. And if thou prolong thy mourning, it were a little\nthing; for though the Muslims beleaguer us years and years, they\nwill never compass their will of us nor get aught of us but\ntrouble and weariness.\" Then she took ink-horn and paper and\nwrote the following letter: \"Shewaha Dhat ed Dewahi to the host\nof the Muslims. Know that I entered your country and duped your\nnobles and slew your king Omar ben Ennuman in the midst of his\npalace. Moreover, I slew, in the battle of the mountain pass and\nof the grotto, many of your men, and the last I killed were\nSherkan and his servants. And if fortune favour me and Satan obey\nme, I will assuredly kill your Sultan and the Vizier Dendan, for\nI am she who came to you in the disguise of a recluse and ye were\nthe dupes of my tricks and devices. Wherefore, if you be minded\nto be in safety, depart at once; and if you covet your own\ndestruction, abide where you are; for though ye abide here years\nand years, ye shall not come by your desire of us; and so peace\nbe on you.\" Then she devoted three days to mourning for her son\nKing Herdoub, and on the fourth day, she called a knight and bade\nhim make the letter fast to an arrow and shoot it into the Muslim\ncamp; after which she entered the church and gave herself up to\nweeping and lamentation for the loss of her son, saying to him\nwho took the kingship after him, \"Nothing will serve me but I\nmust kill Zoulmekan and all the princes of Islam.\"\n\nMeanwhile, the Muslims passed three days in concern and anxiety,\nand on the fourth day, they saw a knight on the wall, holding a\nbow and about to shoot an arrow to which was fastened a letter.\nSo they waited till he had shot, and the King bade the Vizier\nDendan take the letter and read it. He did so, and when Zoulmekan\nheard its purport, his eyes filled with tears and he shrieked for\nanguish at the old woman's perfidy, and Dendan said, \"By Allah,\nmy heart shrank from her!\" \"How could this traitress impose upon\nus twice?\" exclaimed Zoulmekan. \"By Allah, I will not depart\nhence till I fill her kaze with molten lead and set her in a\ncage, as men do birds, then bind her with her hair and crucify\nher at the gate of Constantinople.\" Then he addressed himself\nagain to the leaguer of the city, promising his men that, if it\nshould be taken, he would divide its treasures equally among\nthem. After this, he bethought him of his brother and wept sore;\nand his tears ceased not to flow, till his body was wasted with\ngrief, as it were a bodkin. But the Vizier Dendan came in to him\nand said, \"Take comfort and be consoled; thy brother died not but\nbecause his hour was come, and there is no profit in this\nmourning. How well says the poet:\n\nThat which is not to be shall by no means be brought To pass, and\n     that which is to be shall come, unsought,\nEven at the time ordained: but he that knoweth not The truth is\n     still deceived and finds his hopes grown nought.\n\nWherefore do thou leave this weeping and lamentation and\nstrengthen thy heart to bear arms.\" \"O Vizier,\" replied\nZoulmekan, \"my heart is heavy for the death of my brother and\nfather and our absence from our native land, and my mind is\nconcerned for my subjects.\" Thereupon the Vizier and the\nbystanders wept; but they ceased not from the leaguer of\nConstantinople, till, after awhile, news arrived from Baghdad, by\none of the Amirs, that the Sultan's wife had given birth to a son\nand that the princess Nuzhet ez Zeman had named him Kanmakan.\nMoreover, his sister wrote to him that the boy bid fair to be a\nprodigy and that she had commanded the priests and preachers to\npray for them from the pulpits; also, that they were all well and\nhad been blessed with abundant rains and that his comrade the\nstoker was in the enjoyment of all prosperity, with slaves and\nservants to attend upon him; but that he was still ignorant of\nwhat had befallen him. Zoulmekan rejoiced greatly at this news\nand said to the Vizier Dendan, \"Now is my hope fulfilled and my\nback strengthened, in that I have been vouchsafed a son.\nWherefore I am minded to leave mourning and let make recitations\nof the Koran over my brother's tomb and do almsdeeds on his\naccount.\" Quoth the Vizier, \"It is well.\" Then he caused tents to\nbe pitched over his brother's tomb and they gathered together\nsuch of the troops as could repeat the Koran. Some fell to\nreciting the Koran, whilst others chanted the litanies of the\npraise of God, and thus they did till the morning, when Zoulmekan\nwent up to the tomb of his brother Sherkan and shedding copious\ntears, repeated the following verses:\n\nThey bore him forth, whilst all who went behind him wept and\n     cried Such cries as Moses gave, when God broke down the\n     mountain side,\nTill to a tomb they came, whose grave seemed dug in all men's\n     hearts By whom the unity of God is held and glorified.\nI had not thought, or ere they bore thee forth upon the bier, To\n     see my joy upon the hands of men uplifted ride;\nNor, till they laid thee in the grave, could I have ever deemed\n     That stars could leave their place in heaven and in the dark\n     earth hide.\nIs the indweller of the tomb the hostage of a pit, In which, for\n     that his face is there, splendour and light abide?\nLo, praise has ta'en upon itself to bring him back to life; Now\n     that his body's hid, his fame's shown forth and magnified.\n\nWhen he had made an end of reciting these verses, he wept and all\nthe troops wept with him; then he threw himself on the tomb, wild\nwith grief, and the Vizier repeated the words of the poet:\n\nThat which fleets past thou hast left and won what endureth for\n     aye, And even as thou are the folk, that were and have\n     passed away;\nAnd yet it was not of thy will that thou quittedst this house of\n     the world; For here hadst thou joy and delight of all that\n     befell in thy day.\nHow oft hast thou proven thyself a succour and shield from the\n     foe, When the arrows and javelins of war flew thick in the\n     midst of the fray!\nI see that this world's but a cheat and a vanity after all, And\n     ever to seek out the Truth all creatures desire and essay!\nThe Lord of the Empyrean vouchsafe thee in heaven to dwell And\n     the Guide assign thee therein a goodly sojourn, I pray!\nI bid thee adieu with a sigh and I see, for the loss of thee, The\n     East and the West o'ershadowed with mourning and dismay.\n\nWhen the Vizier had finished, he wept sore, and the tears fell\nfrom his eyes, like a network of pearls. Then came forward one of\nSherkan's boon-companions, weeping till his eyes resembled\nrivers, and recalled the dead man's noble qualities, reciting the\nfollowing cinquains:\n\nWhere be thy giving, alas! and the hand of thy bounty fled? They\n     lie in the earth, and my body is wasted for drearihead.\nO guide of the camel-litters,[FN#118] (may God still gladden thy\n     stead!) My tears on my cheeks have written, in characters of\n     red,\n          That which would both rejoice thee and fill thee with\n               pain and dread!\nBy Allah, 'twixt me and my heart, not a word of thee is said Nor\n     doth the thought of thy grace and thy glory pass through my\n     head,\nBut that mine eyes are wounded by dint of the tears I shed! Yea,\n     if to rest on another my glance be ever led,\n          May my lids be drawn in slumber by longing for the\n               dead!\n\nThen Zoulmekan and Dendan wept sore and the whole army lamented\naloud; after which they all withdrew to their tents, and\nZoulmekan turned to Dendan and took counsel with him concerning\nthe conduct of the war. On this wise they passed days and nights,\nwhat while Zoulmekan was weighed down with grief and concern,\ntill at last he said to the Vizier, \"I have a mind to hear\nstories of adventures and chronicles of kings and tales of folk\noppressed of love, so haply God may make this to solace the heavy\nanxiety that is on my heart and do away from me weeping and\nlamentation.\" \"O King,\" replied Dendan, \"if nought but hearing\npleasant tales of bygone kings and peoples and stories of folk\noppressed of love and so forth can dispel thy trouble, the thing\nis easy, for I had no other business, in the lifetime of thy late\nfather, than to tell him stories and repeat verses to him; so,\nthis very night, I will tell thee a story of a lover and his\nbeloved, which shall lighten thy heart.\" When Zoulmekan heard\nthis, his heart yearned after that which the Vizier promised him\nand he did nothing but watch for the coming of the night, that he\nmight hear what he had to tell. So, no sooner had the night\nclosed in, than he bade light the lamps and the candles and bring\nall that was needful of meat and drink and perfumes and what not\nand sending for Dendan, Rustem, Behram, Terkash and the Grand\nChamberlain, turned to the Vizier and said, \"O Vizier, behold,\nthe night is come and hath let down its veils over us, and we\ndesire that thou tell us that which thou didst promise us.\" \"With\nall my heart,\" replied the Vizier \"Know, O august King, that I\nhave heard tell a story of a lover and a loved one and of the\ndiscourse between them and of the rare and pleasant things that\nbefell them, a story such as does away care from the heart and\ndispels sorrow like unto that of the patriarch Jacob: and it is\nas follows:\n\n\n\n\nStory of Taj El Mulouk and the Princess Dunya.\n\n\n\nThere stood once, behind the mountains of Ispahan, a town called\nthe Green City, in which dwelt a king named Suleiman Shah, a man\nof virtue and beneficence, just, generous and loyal, to whom\ntravellers resorted from all parts, for his renown was noised\nabroad in all cities and countries; and he reigned over the\ncountry for many years, in all honour and prosperity, save that\nhe had neither wife nor child. Now he had a vizier who was akin\nto him in goodness and generosity, and one day, he sent for him\nand said to him, 'O my Vizier, my heart is heavy and my patience\nat end and my strength fails me, for that I have neither wife nor\nchild. This is not of the fashion of kings that rule over all,\nprinces and beggars; for they rejoice in leaving behind them\nchildren, who shall succeed them and by whom both their number\nand strength are multiplied. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless\nand preserve), \"Marry and engender and multiply, that I may boast\nmyself of you over the peoples on the Day of Resurrection.\" So\nwhat is thy counsel, O Vizier? Advise me what is fitting to\nbe done.' When the Vizier heard this, the tears streamed from\nhis eyes and he replied, 'God forbid, O king of the age, that\nI should speak on that which is of the pertinence of the\nCompassionate One! Wilt thou have me cast into the fire by the\nwrath of the All-powerful King? Buy a concubine.' 'Know, O\nVizier,' rejoined the King, 'that when a prince buys a female\nslave, he knows neither her condition nor her lineage and thus\ncannot tell if she be of mean extraction, that he may abstain\nfrom her, or of gentle blood, that he may be intimate with her.\nSo if he have commerce with her, belike she will conceive by him\nand her son be a hypocrite, a tyrant and a shedder of blood.\nIndeed such a woman may be likened to a salt soil, which, if one\ntill it, yields only worthless crops; for it may be the son in\nquestion will be obnoxious to the wrath of his Lord, doing not\nthat which He commandeth him neither abstaining from that which\nHe forbiddeth him. Wherefore I will never risk being the cause of\nthis, through the purchase of a concubine; and it is my will,\ntherefore, that thou demand for me in marriage the daughter of\nsome one of the kings, whose lineage is known and whose beauty is\nrenowned. If thou canst direct me to some king's daughter of the\nMuslims, who is a woman of good birth and piety, I will seek her\nhand and marry her before witnesses, that the favour of the Lord\nof all creatures may accrue to me thereby.' 'O King,' said the\nVizier, 'God hath fulfilled thy need and hath brought thee to thy\ndesire; for it hath come to my knowledge that King Zehr Shah,\nLord of the White Country, hath a daughter of surpassing beauty,\nwhom report fails to describe; she hath not her equal in this\nage, being perfect in beauty and symmetry, with melting black\neyes and long hair, slender-waisted and heavy-hipped. When she\ndraws nigh, she seduces, and when she turns her back, she slays,\nravishing heart and sight, even as says of her the poet:\n\nA slender one, her shape confounds the branch of the cassia tree;\n     Nor sun nor moon can with her face for brightness evened be.\nMeseems, the water of her mouth is honey blent with wine; Ay, and\n     her teeth are finer pearls than any in the sea.\nThe purest white and deepest black meet in her glittering glance\n     And shapelier than the black-eyed maids of Paradise is she.\nHow many a man her eyes have slain, who perished in despair; The\n     love of her's a way wherein are fear and misery.\nIf I would live, behold, she's death! I may not think of her,\n     Lest I should die; for, lacking her, life's nothing worth to\n     me.\n\nSo it is my counsel, O King, that thou despatch to her father a\nsagacious and experienced ambassador, versed in the conduct of\naffairs, who shall with courteous and persuasive speech demand\nher in marriage for thee; for she hath not her equal in the\nworld, far or near. So shalt thou enjoy her beauty in the way of\nright and the Lord of Glory be content with thee; for it is\nreported of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) that he\nsaid, \"There is no monkery in Islam.\"  At this the King was\ntransported to the perfection of delight; his heart was lightened\nand his breast dilated and care and anxiety ceased from him; and\nhe said to the Vizier, 'None shall go about this business but\nthou, by reason of thy consummate wit and good breeding;\nwherefore do thou make ready by the morrow and depart and demand\nme this girl in marriage, with whom thou hast made my heart to be\nengrossed; nor do thou return to me but with her.' 'I hear and\nobey,' replied the Vizier, and withdrawing to his own house, made\nready a present such as befits kings, of jewels and other\nprecious things, light of carriage but heavy of worth, besides\nArabian horses and coats of mail, fine-wrought as those which\nDavid made,[FN#119] and chests of treasure, such as speech &fails\nto describe. These all he loaded upon camels and mules and set\nout, with flags and banners flying before him and attended by a\nhundred white slaves and the like number of black and a hundred\nslave-girls. The King charged him to return to him speedily; so\nhe set out, leaving Suleiman Shah on coals of fire, engrossed\nnight and day with desire for the princess, and fared on, without\nceasing, night and day, across plains and deserts, till there\nremained but a day's journey between him and the city to which he\nwas bound. Here he halted on the banks of a river, and calling\none of his chief officers, bade him hasten forward to King Zehr\nShah and announce his approach. Accordingly, the messenger rode\non in haste to the city and was about to enter it, when the King,\nwho chanced to be seated in one of his pleasaunces before the\ngate, espied him and knowing him for a stranger, bade bring him\nbefore him. So when the messenger came into his presence, he\ninformed him of the approach of the Vizier of the mighty King\nSuleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the mountains of\nIspahan; whereat King Zehr Shah rejoiced and bade him welcome.\nThen he carried him to his palace and said to him, 'Where didst\nthou leave the Vizier?' 'I left him,' replied the messenger, 'at\nthe first of the day, on the banks of such a river, and he will\nbe with thee to-morrow, may God continue His favours to thee\nand have mercy upon thy parents!' Whereupon the King commanded\none of his Viziers to take the better part of his nobles and\nchamberlains and officers and grandees and go out to meet the\nambassador, in honour of King Suleiman Shah, for that his\ndominion extended over the country.\n\nMeanwhile, King Suleiman's Vizier abode in his stead, till the\nnight was half spent, when he set out for the city; but hardly\nhad the day appeared and the sun risen upon the hills and plains,\nwhen he saw King Zehr Shah's Vizier approaching with his retinue\nand the two parties joined company at some parasangs' distance\nfrom the city. At this the Vizier made sure of the success of his\nerrand and saluted the new-comers, who escorted him to the King's\npalace and forewent him to the seventh vestibule, where none\nmight enter on horseback, for it was near the presence chamber of\nthe King. So the Vizier alighted and walked on till he came to a\nlofty hall, at the upper end whereof stood a couch of alabaster,\nset with pearls end jewels and having four elephants' tusks for\nfeet. It was covered with a mattress of green satin, embroidered\nwith red gold, and surmounted by a canopy adorned with pearls and\njewels, and on it sat King Zehr Shah, whilst his officers of\nstate stood in attendance on him. When the Vizier stood before\nhim, he composed himself and loosing his tongue, displayed such\nskill of speech as befits viziers and saluted the King in\neloquent and complimentary language, reciting the following\nverses in his honour:\n\nHe cometh, bending gracefully in his robes and shedding dew Of\n     bounty over the thirsting land and the folk to him that sue.\nIndeed, he charmeth; nor amulets nor spells nor magic may Avail\n     to ward off the faithful glance of those his eyes from you.\nSay to the censurers, \"Blame me not: whilst life abide in me,\n     I'll never swerve from the love of him nor turn to love\n     anew.\"\nLo, slumber surely is tired of me and fallen in love with him,\n     And even my heart hath played me false and but to him is\n     true!\nO heart, thou art not the only one that loves and tenders him, So\n     get thee gone and bide with him and leave me here to rue!\nExcept the praise of the King Zehr Shah it be that folk acclaim,\n     There's nought rejoices mine ears, in sooth, to hearken\n     thereunto.\nA King, the sight of whose glorious face would well thy pains\n     repay; Though thou shouldst lavish thy heart's best blood,\n     so great a grace to woo.\nIf thou be minded to offer up a pious prayer for him, Thou'lt\n     find but true believer, and sharers the whole world through.\nO folk of this realm, if any forswear his governance And look for\n     another, I hold him none of the faithful few\n\nWhen the Vizier had made an end of his speech, the King bade him\ndraw near and showed him the utmost honour then seating him by\nhis own side, he smiled in his face and made him a gracious\nreply. They conversed till the time of the morning-meal, when the\nattendants brought in the tables of food and they all ate till\nthey were satisfied, after which the tables were removed and all\nwho were present withdrew, with the exception of the chief\nofficers; which when the Vizier saw, he rose to his feet, and\nafter complimenting the King a second time and kissing the earth\nbefore him, spoke as follows: 'O mighty king and august prince, I\nhave travelled hither and am come to thee upon an errand, wherein\nis profit and good and prosperity for thee; and it is that I come\nas ambassador to thee, seeking the hand of thy noble and\nillustrious daughter, from the most just, loyal and excellent\nKing Suleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the\nmountains of Ispahan, who sends thee many and rare presents and\ngifts of price, ardently desiring thine alliance. Art thou, then,\nminded to him as he to thee?' And he was silent, awaiting a\nreply. When the King heard his words he sprang to his feet\nand kissed the earth respectfully before the Vizier, to the\namazement of the bystanders, whose minds were confounded at his\ncondescension to the ambassador. Then he praised Him who is the\nLord of glory and honour and replied, still standing, 'O mighty\nVizier and illustrious lord, hear what I say. Verily we are of\nthe subjects of King Suleiman Shah and are ennobled by his\nalliance and aspire ardently thereto. My daughter is one of his\nhandmaids, and it is my dearest wish that he may become my stay\nand my support in time of need.' Then he summoned the Cadis and\nthe witnesses, who took act that King Suleiman had deputed his\nVizier his proxy to conclude the marriage, and King Zehr Shah\njoyfully consented on behalf of his daughter. So the Cadis drew\nup the marriage contract and offered up prayers for the happiness\nand prosperity of the contracting parties; after which the Vizier\narose and fetching the gifts and rarities and precious things\nthat he had brought with him, laid them all before the King, who\nbetook himself to the equipment of his daughter, honourably\nentreating the Vizier and feasting great and small; and they held\nhigh festival for two months, omitting nought that could gladden\nheart and eye. When all was ready that was needful for the bride,\nthe King caused the tents to be pitched without the city and they\npacked the bride's clothes and jewels in chests and loaded them\non mules and camels. Now he had provided his daughter with Greek\nhandmaids and Turkish slave-girls and great store of jewels and\nprecious things, and had let make for her a litter of red gold\ninlaid with pearls and jewels, which within was as one of the\nchambers of a palace and without as one of the pavilions of\nParadise, whilst its mistress seemed as she were of the lovely\nhours. Moreover, he furnished her also with twenty mules for the\njourney and brought her three parasangs forward on her road,\nafter which he bade her and the Vizier farewell and returned to\nhis own city in peace and gladness. Meanwhile, the Vizier and his\ncompany fared on by forced marches, traversing plains and deserts\nand staying not day or night, till they came within three days'\njourney of King Suleiman's capital, when the Vizier despatched a\nmessenger to acquaint the King with their arrival. The messenger\nhastened forward till he reached the King's presence and\nannounced to him the coming of the bride, whereat he rejoiced and\nbestowed on him a dress of honour. Then he bade his troops don\ntheir richest apparel and sally forth in grand procession, with\nbanners flying, to meet the princess and her company and do them\nhonour, and let cry throughout the city that neither cloistered\ndamsel nor honoured lady nor infirm old woman should fail to go\nforth to meet the bride. So they all went out to meet her and the\nchiefest of them vied in doing her service, meaning to bring her\nto the King's palace by night. Moreover, the grandees agreed to\ndecorate the road and stand on either side, whilst the bride\nshould pass by, clad in the robes her father had given her and\npreceded by her eunuchs and serving-women. So at the appointed\ntime, she made her appearance, surrounded by the troops, these on\nher right hand and those on her left, and the litter ceased not\ngoing with her, till they drew near the palace; nor was there any\none but came forth to gaze upon the show. The drums beat and the\nlances were brandished, the trumpets blared and the banners\nfluttered and the horses pranced, whilst fragrant odours breathed\naround, till they reached the gate of the palace and the pages\nentered with the litter through the private gate. The place shone\nwith its splendours and the walls glittered for the lustre of its\nornaments. When the night came, the eunuchs threw open the doors\nof the bride-chamber and stood on either hand; whereupon the\nbride entered, among her damsels, like the moon among stars or a\npearl of matchless beauty in a string of lesser pearls, and\nseated herself upon a couch of alabaster inlaid with pearls and\njewels, that had been set for her there. Then came the King in to\nher and God filled his heart with love of her; so he did away her\nmaidenhead, and his trouble and disquiet ceased from him. She\nconceived by him the first night, and he abode with her well-nigh\na month, at the end of which time he went forth and seating\nhimself on his throne of state, dispensed justice to his\nsubjects, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished.\nTowards daybreak on the last night of the ninth month, the queen\nwas seized with the pangs of labour; so she sat down on the stool\nof delivery and God made the travail easy to her, so that she\ngave birth to a male child, on whom appeared the signs of happy\nfortune. When the King heard of this, he rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy and rewarded the bearer of the good tidings with\nmuch treasure. Then, of his gladness, he went in to the child and\nkissed him between the eyes, wondering at his brilliant beauty;\nfor in him was the saying of the poet made truth:\n\nGod hath a lion given in him unto the forts of fame And in the\n     heaven of high estate hath set another star.\nLo, at his birth, the spears shake all and all the wild deer\n     start And all the chieftains of the folk and all the men of\n     war!\nSo mount him not upon the breasts, for he shall surely deem That\n     horses' backs for such as he the softer sitting are;\nAnd wean ye him from sucking milk, for he eftsoon shall find The\n     blood of foemen in the field the sweeter drink by far.\n\nThe midwives took the new-born child and cut the cord of his\nnavel, after which they anointed his eyes with kohl and named him\nTaj el Mulouk Kharan. He was suckled at the breast of delight and\nreared in the lap of favouring fortune, and the days ran on and\nthe years passed by, till he reached the age of seven. Then the\nKing his father summoned the doctors and learned men and bade\nthem teach his son writing and science and polite letters. This\nthey did for some years, till he had learnt all that was needful,\nwhen the King took him out of the professors' hands and committed\nhim to a master, who taught him horsemanship and the use of arms,\ntill the boy attained the age of fourteen and became proficient\nin martial exercises. Moreover, he outshone all the people of his\ntime for the excess of his beauty; so that, whenever he went\nabroad on any occasion, all who saw him were ravished with him\nand made verses in his honour, and even the virtuous were seduced\nby his brilliant loveliness. Quoth the poet of him:\n\nA tender branch, that from the breeze hath ta'en its nourishment!\n     I clipped him and straightway became drunk with his sweetest\n     scent;\nNot drunken with the drunkenness of one who drinketh wine, But\n     with the honey of his mouth fulfilled of languishment.\nAll loveliness comprised is within his perfect form, So that o'er\n     all the hearts of men he reigns omnipotent.\nBy God, forgetfulness of him shall never cross my mind. What\n     while I wear the chains of life, nor even when they're rent!\nLo, if I live, in love of him I'll live; and, if I die Of\n     love-longing for him, I'll say, \"O rare! O excellent!\"\n\nWhen he reached his eighteenth year, the tender down began to\ninvade the table of his rosy cheeks, which were adorned by a\nblack mole like a grain of ambergris, and he captivated the minds\nand eyes of all who looked on him, even as says of him the poet\nin the following verses:\n\nHe is become the Khalif of beauty in Joseph's place; The hearts\n     of all lovers dread him, whenas they see his grace.\nPause thou with me and fasten thy gaze on him! thou'lt see The\n     sign of the Khalifate set in sable[FN#120] on his face.\n\nAnd as says another:\n\nThine eyes have never looked upon a fairer sight, Of all the\n     things that are to see beneath the sky,\nThan yonder mole of brown, that nestles on his face, Midmost the\n     rosy cheek, beneath the coal-black eye.\n\nAnd a third:\n\nI marvel at yon mole that serves the fire eternal, Upon his\n     cheek, yet is not burned, all Kafir[FN#121] though it be;\nAnd eke I marvel that he's sent or God, with every glance To work\n     true miracles; and yet a sorcerer is he!\nThe many gall-bladders that burst for him it is that make The\n     shining fringes of his cheek so black and bright to see.\n\nAnd yet a fourth:\n\nI wonder to hear the folk ask of the water of life And question\n     in which of the lands its magical fountain flows\nWhenas I see it well from the damask lips of a fawn, Under his\n     tender moustache and his cheek's perennial rose.\nAnd eke 'tis a wonder of wonders that Moses,[FN#122] finding it\n     there Flowing, yet took no patience nor laid him down to\n     repose.\n\nWhen he came to man's estate, his beauty increased and he had\nmany comrades and friends; and every one who drew near to him\nhoped that he would become Sultan after his father's death and\nthat he himself might be one of his officers. He had a passion\nfor hunting and would hardly leave the chase a single hour. His\nfather would have restrained him, fearing for him the perils of\nthe desert: and the wild beasts; but he paid no heed to him. One\nday, he bade his attendants take ten days' provender and setting\nout for the chase, rode on into the desert four days long, at the\nend of which time he came to a verdant champaign, full of wild\nbeasts pasturing and trees laden with ripe fruit and springs\nwelling forth. Then he said to his followers, 'Set up the nets in\na wide circle and let our general rendezvous be at the mouth of\nthe ring, in such a spot.' So they staked out a wide circle with\nthe nets; and there gathered together a multitude of all kinds of\nwild beasts and gazelles, which cried out for fear of them and\nthrew themselves in terror right in the face of the horses. Then\nthey loosed the dogs and sakers and hunting lynxes on them and\nsmote them with arrows in the vitals; so, by the time they came\nto the closed end of the ring of nets, they took a great number\nof the wild beasts, and the rest fled. Then the prince sat down\nby the water-side and letting spread the game before himself,\napportioned it among his men, after he had set apart the choicest\nthereof for his father King Suleiman and despatched it to him;\nand other part he divided among the officers of his court. He\npassed the night in that place, and when it was morning, there\ncame up a caravan of merchants, with their slaves and servants,\nand halted by the water and the verdure. When Taj el Mulouk saw\nthis, he said to one of his companions, 'Go, bring me news of\nyonder folk and ask them why they have halted here.' So the man\nwent up to them and said, 'Tell me who ye are, and answer\nquickly.' 'We are merchants,' replied they, 'and have halted here\nto rest, for that the next station is distant and we have\nconfidence in King Suleiman Shah and his son Taj el Mulouk,\nknowing that all who alight in their dominions are in peace and\nsafety; and we have with us precious stuffs, that we have brought\nfor the prince.' The messenger returned with this news to the\nprince, who said, I will not depart hence till I see what they\nhave brought for me. Then he mounted and rode to the caravan,\nfollowed by his servants. The merchants rose to receive him and\ninvoked on him the aid and favour of God, with continuance of\nglory and virtues; after which they pitched him a pavilion of red\nsatin, emblazoned with pearls and jewels, in which they spread\nhim a royal divan, upon a silken carpet embroidered at the upper\nend with emeralds. The prince seated himself on the divan, whilst\nhis servants stood in attendance upon him, and bade the merchants\nbring out all that they had with them. Accordingly, they produced\nall their merchandise, and he viewed it and took of it what liked\nhim, paying them the price. Then he remounted and was about to\nride onward, when his eyes fell on a handsome young man, well\ndressed and elegantly made, with flower-white forehead and face\nbrilliant as the moon, save that his beauty was wasted and that\npallor had invaded his cheeks by reason of separation from those\nhe loved: sighing and lamentation were grievous upon him and the\ntears streamed from his eyelids, as he repeated the following\nverses:\n\nAbsence is long and care and fear are heavy on my soul, Whilst\n     from mine eyes the tears, O friend, without cessation roll.\nAlas, I left my heart behind upon the parting day, And now sans\n     heart, sans hope, abide all lonely in my dole.\nPause with me, O my friend, what while I take my leave of one By\n     whose sweet speech diseases all and sorrows are made whole.\n\nHaving said this, he wept awhile and fell down in a swoon, whilst\nTaj el Mulouk looked at him wonderingly then coming to himself,\nhe stared fixedly before him, with distracted air, and repeated\nthese other verses:\n\nI rede thee beware of her glance, for, lo, 'tis a wizard, I ween!\n     None 'scapeth unscathed of the shafts of her eyes, that has\n     gazed on their sheen.\nFor, trust me, black eyes, that are armed with the grace of a\n     languorous look, Are swifter and sharper to wound than\n     scimitars, tempered and keen.\nAnd let not thy mind be beguiled by the sweet and the soft of her\n     words; For the fever that springs from her speech\n     o'ermasters the senses, demesne.\nSoft-sided, were silk but to press on her skin, it would cause it\n     to bleed, So delicate-bodied she is and so nesh, as forsooth\n     thou hast seen.\nRight chary she is of the charms 'twixt her neck and her anklets\n     that lie, And what is the sweetest of scents to the\n     fragrance that breathes from my queen!\n\nThen he gave a sob and swooned away a second time. When Taj el\nMulouk saw him thus, he was perplexed about his case and went up\nto him. So when he came to himself and saw the prince standing by\nhim, he sprang to his feet and kissed the earth before him; and\nTaj el Mulouk said to him, 'Why didst thou not show us thy\nmerchandise?' 'O my lord,' answered the young merchant, 'there is\nnought among my stock worthy of thine august highness.' 'It\nmatters not,' said the prince, 'thou must show me what thou hast\nand acquaint me with thy case; for I see thee weeping-eyed and\nmournful-hearted. If thou hast been wronged, we will do away\nthine oppression, and if thou be in debt, we will discharge thy\ndebt; for my heart aches for thee, since I first set eyes on\nthee.' Then he called for seats and they set him a chair of ebony\nand ivory, netted with gold and silk, and spread him a silken\ncarpet. So he sat down on the chair and bidding the young\nmerchant seat himself on the carpet, again commanded him to show\nhim his merchandise. 'O my lord,' said he, 'do not name this to\nme; for I have nought worthy of thee.' 'I will have it so,'\nrejoined Taj el Mulouk and bade some of the servants fetch the\ngoods. So they brought them in spite of the merchant; and when he\nsaw this, the tears streamed from his eyes and he wept and sighed\nand lamented; sobs rose from his bosom and he repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nBy the witching amorous sweetness and the blackness of thine\n     eyes, By the tender flexile softness in thy slender waist\n     that lies,\nBy the graces and the languor of thy body and thy shape, By the\n     fount of wine and honey from thy coral lips that rise,\nO my hope, to see thine image in my dreams were sweeter far Than\n     were safety to the fearful, languishing in woful wise!\n\nThen he opened his bales and displayed their contents to Taj el\nMulouk, piece by piece, till he came to a mantle of satin\nbrocaded with gold, worth two thousand dinars from which, when he\nopened it, there fell a piece of linen. As soon as he saw this,\nhe caught up the piece of linen in haste and hid it under his\nthigh; and indeed he seemed as though he had lost his reason, and\nhe repeated the following verses:\n\nWhen shall my sad tormented heart be healed, alas, of thee? The\n     Pleiades were nearer far than is thy grace to me.\nDistance estrangement, longing pain and fire of love laid waste,\n     Procrastination and delay, in these my life doth flee.\nFor no attainment bids me live nor exile slays me quite, Travel\n     no nigher doth me bring, nor wilt thou nearer be.\nThere is no justice to be had of thee nor any ruth In thee; no\n     winning to thy grace and yet no breaking free.\nAlack, for love of thee, the ways are straitened all on me; So\n     that I know not where I go nor any issue see!\n\nThe prince wondered greatly at his behaviour, and said to him,\n'What is that piece of linen?' 'O my lord,' replied the merchant,\n'thou hast no concern with it.' 'Show it me,' said the prince;\nand the merchant answered, 'O my lord, it was on account of this\npiece of linen that I refused to show thee my goods; for I cannot\nlet thee look on it.' But Taj el Mulouk rejoined, 'I must and\nwill see it;' and insisted and became angry. So he drew it out\nfrom under his thigh, weeping and lamenting and redoubling his\nsighs and groans, and repeated the following verses:\n\nBlame ye the lover not, for blame but irketh him to hear; Indeed,\n     I spoke him truth, but he to me would lend no ear.\nGod have her in His care, my moon that rises far away, Down in\n     the valley, midst the camp, from out the collars'\n     sphere![FN#123]\nI left her; would to God my love had left me peace of life! So\n     had I never parted been from her that held me dear.\nO how she pleaded for my sake upon our parting day, What while\n     adown her cheeks and mine tear followed upon tear!\nMay God belie me not! The wede of my excuse from me Was all to\n     rent for loss of her; but I will mend my cheer.\nNo bed is easy to my side, nor is her resting-place Ayemore\n     reposeful unto her, now I'm no longer near.\nFor Fate with an ill-omened hand hath wrought upon our loves And\n     hindered me from my delight and her from hers, yfere.\nIndeed, what time it filled the cup, whereof she drank what I\n     E'en made her drink, it poured us out grief, all unmixed and\n     sheer.\n\nQuoth Taj el Mulouk, 'Thy conduct perplexes me; tell me why thou\nweepest at the sight of this piece of linen.' When the young\nmerchant heard speak of the piece of linen, he sighed and\nanswered, 'O my lord, my story is a strange and eventful one,\nwith regard to this piece of linen and her from whom I had it and\nher who wrought the figures and emblems that be thereon.' So\nsaying, he unfolded the piece of linen, and behold, thereon were\nthe figures of two gazelles, facing one another, one wrought in\nsilk and gold and the other in silver with a ring of red gold and\nthree bugles of chrysolite about its neck. When Taj el Mulouk saw\nthe figures and the beauty of their fashion, he exclaimed, 'Glory\nbe to God who teacheth man that which he knoweth not!' And his\nheart was filled with longing to hear the merchant's story; so he\nsaid to him, 'Tell me thy story with her who gave thee these\ngazelles.' 'Know, O my lord,' replied the young man, 'that\n\n\n\n\nStory of Aziz and Azizeh.\n\n\n\nMy father was one of the chief merchants (of my native town) and\nGod had vouchsafed him no other child than myself; but I had a\ncousin, the daughter of my father's brother, who was brought up\nwith me in our house; for her father was dead and before his\ndeath, he had agreed with my father that I should marry her. So\nwhen I reached man's estate and she became a woman, they did not\nseparate us, and we ceased not to sleep on the same couch,\nknowing no evil, albeit she was more thoughtful, more intelligent\nand quicker-witted than I, till at last, my father spoke to my\nmother and said, \"This very year we will draw up the contract of\nmarriage between Aziz and Azizeh.\" So they agreed upon this, and\nhe betook himself to preparing victual for the marriage\nfestivities. When he had made an end of his preparations and\nthere remained nought but to draw up the contract and consummate\nthe marriage, he appointed the wedding for a certain Friday,\nafter the congregational prayers, and going round to his friends\namong the merchants and others, acquainted them with this, whilst\nmy mother invited her female friends and kindred. When the day\ncame, they cleaned the guest-chamber and washed the marble floor,\nthen spread carpets about the house and set out thereon what\nwas needful, after they had hung the walls with cloth of gold.\nNow the folk had agreed to come to our house after the\nFriday-prayers; so my father went and let make cates and dishes\nof sweetmeats, and there remained nothing to do but to draw up\nthe contract. Then my mother sent me to the bath and sent after\nme a suit of new clothes of the richest kind which I put on, when\nI came out. The clothes were perfumed, and as I went along, there\nexhaled from them a delicious fragrance, that scented the way. I\nwas about to repair to the mosque, when I bethought me of one of\nmy friends and was minded to go in quest of him that he might be\npresent at the drawing up of the contract, saying in myself,\n\"This will occupy me till near the time of prayer.\" So I turned\nback and came to a by-street, that I had never before entered.\nNow I was in a profuse perspiration, from the effects of the bath\nand the new clothes on my body, and the sweat streamed from me,\nwhilst the perfume of my clothes was wafted abroad: so I sat down\nto rest on a stone bench at the upper end of the street,\nspreading under me an embroidered handkerchief I had with me. The\nheat redoubled on me, so that my forehead sweated and the drops\nran down on to my cheeks; but I could not wipe my face with my\nhandkerchief, because I lay upon it. So I was about to take the\nskirt of my gaberdine and wipe my cheeks with it, when suddenly\nthere fell on me from above a white handkerchief, softer to the\nfeel than the zephyr and pleasanter to the sight than recovery to\nthe sick. I seized on it and looking up to see whence it came, my\neyes met those of the lady who gave me these gazelles. She was\nlooking out of a wicket in a lattice of brass and never saw my\neyes a fairer than she; my tongue fails to picture her beauty.\nWhen she saw me looking at her, she put her forefinger to her\nmouth, then joined her middle and index fingers and laid them on\nher bosom, between her breasts; after which she drew in her head\nand shut the wicket. With this, fire broke out and raged in my\nheart; the glance I had of her cost me a thousand sighs and I\nabode perplexed, having heard no word from her and understanding\nnot the meaning of her signs. I looked again at the window, but\nfound it shut and waited till sundown but heard no sound and saw\nno one. When I despaired of seeing her again, I rose and taking\nup the handkerchief, opened it, whereupon there exhaled from it a\nscent of musk, which caused me such ease that meseemed I was in\nParadise. Then I spread it out before me and there dropped from\nit a little scroll of paper. I opened the scroll, which was\nscented with a delicious perfume, and found written therein the\nfollowing verses:\n\nI sent my love a scroll, complaining of desire Writ in a fine,\n     small hand; for writings vary still.\n\"Why is thy writing thus,\" my lover said to me, \"Attenuate and\n     small, uneath to read and ill?\"\nQuoth I, \"Because I too am wasted, ay, and thin. Thus should\n     their writing be, who weary at Love's will.\"\n\nThen, casting my eyes on the beauty of the handkerchief, I saw\nembroidered on one of its borders the following verses:\n\nThe down of his whiskers writes (good luck to it for A scribe!)\n     Two lines, in the basil[FN#124] hand, on the table of his\n     face.\nO the wilderment of the moon at him, when he appears! And O the\n     shame of the branch at sight of his flexile grace!\n\nAnd on the opposite border were the following verses:\n\nThe whiskers write upon his cheeks, with ambergris on pearl, Two\n     lines, as 'twere with jet upon an apple, line for line.\nDeath harbours in his languid eyes and slays with every glance;\n     And in his cheeks is drunkenness, and not in any wine.\n\n\nWhen I read what was written on the handkerchief, the flames of\nlove raged in my heart, and longing and trouble redoubled on me.\nSo I took the handkerchief and the scroll and went home, knowing\nno means to compass my desire, for that I was inexperienced in\nlove affairs and unskilled in the interpretation of the language\nof signs used therein. The night was far spent before I reached\nmy house, and when I entered, I found my cousin sitting weeping.\nAs soon as she saw me, she wiped away her tears and coming up to\nme, took off my (outer) clothes and asked me the reason of my\nabsence, saying, \"All the folk, amirs and notables and merchants\nand others, assembled here, and the Cadi and the witnesses came\nalso at the appointed time. They ate and sat awhile, awaiting thy\ncoming for the drawing up of the contract, till they despaired of\nthee, when they dispersed and went their ways. And indeed,\" added\nshe, \"thy father was exceeding wroth, by reason of this, and\nswore that he would not celebrate our marriage till next year,\nfor that he hath spent much money on this occasion. What hath\nbefallen thee to make thee tarry till now?\" \"O my cousin,\"\nreplied I, \"do not ask me what hath befallen me.\" Then I told her\nall that had passed and showed her the handkerchief and the\nscroll. She took them and read what was written therein;\nwhereupon the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nWho says to thee, the first of love is free, Tell him, not so;\n     but, on the contrary,\n'Tis all constraint, wherein no blame can be. History indeed\n     attests this verity;\n     It does not style the good coin falsified.\nSay, if thou wilt, the taste of pain is sweet, Or to be spurned\n     by Fortune's flying feet;\nOf need or vengeance, fortune or defeat, With joy or dole it\n     makes the heart to beat:\n     'Twixt phrase and counterphrase I'm stupefied.\nBut as for him whose happy days are light, Fair maids, whose lips\n     with smiles are ever bright,\nBorne on the fragrant gales of their delight, Who hath his will,\n     unhindered of despite,\n     'Tis not with him A craven heart may bide.\n\nThen she asked me what she said and what signs she made to me.\n\"She spoke not,\" answered I; \"but put her index finger to her\nmouth, then joining it to her middle finger, laid them both on\nher bosom and pointed in the ground, after which she drew in her\nhead and shut the wicket and I saw her no more. She took my heart\nwith her and I sat till sundown, expecting her to appear again at\nthe window; but she came not: so, when I despaired of her, I rose\nand went home. This is my story, and I beg thee to help me in\nthis my affliction.\" With this, she raised her face to me and\nsaid, \"O my cousin, if thou soughtest my eye, I would tear it\nfrom its socket for thee, and I cannot choose but help thee to\nthy desire and her also to hers; for she is passionately\nenamoured of thee, even as thou of her.\" \"And what is the meaning\nof her signs?\" asked I. \"As for the putting her finger to her\nmouth,\" replied Azizeh, \"it meant that thou art to her as her\nsoul to her body and that she would bite upon union with thee\nwith her wisdom-teeth. The handkerchief is the token of greeting\nfrom lover to beloved and the scroll is a sign that her heart is\nbound up in thee. As for the laying her two fingers between her\nbreasts, it is as if she said to thee, 'Return hither after two\ndays, that the sight of thy countenance may dispel my anguish.'\nFor know, O my cousin, that she loves thee and trusts in thee.\nThis is my reading of her signs, and could I come and go at will,\nI would quickly bring you and her together and cover you both\nwith my skirt.\" I thanked her and said to myself, \"I will wait\ntwo days.\" So I abode two days in the house, without going out,\nand ate not nor drank, but lay with my head in my cousin's lap,\nwhilst she comforted me and bade me take heart and be of good\ncheer. When the two days were past, she said to me, \"Take courage\nand dress thyself and go to her, according to the tryst.\" Then\nshe rose and changed my clothes and perfumed me with incense. So\nI took heart and went out and walked on till I came to the\nby-street, where I sat down on the bench. After awhile, the\nwicket opened and I looked up and seeing the lady, fell down in a\nswoon. When I revived, I took courage to look again at her and\nagain became insensible. Then I came to myself and looking at\nher, saw that she had a mirror and a red handkerchief in her\nhand. When she saw me, she bared her forearms and smote her\nbreast with her palm and five fingers; after which she raised her\nhands and holding the mirror forth of the wicket, took the red\nhandkerchief and retired with it, but immediately returned and\nputting out her hand with the handkerchief, lowered it towards\nthe ground and raised it again three several times. Then she\nwrung it out and folded it in her hands, bowing her head the\nwhile; after which she drew in her head and shutting the window,\nwent away, without saying a word, leaving me confounded and\nknowing not what she meant. I sat there till the evening and did\nnot return home till near midnight, when I found my cousin\nsitting, weeping bitterly and repeating the following verses:\n\nAh me, what ails the censurer, that he at thee should flite? How\n     shall I be consoled for thee, and thou a sapling slight?\nO thou, the splendour of whose sight has ta'en my heart by storm,\n     Whose supple bending grace compels to passion's utmost\n     height,[FN#125]\nWhose eyes, with Turkish languor caught, work havoc in the breast\n     And leave such wounds as ne'er were made by falchion in the\n     fight!\nThou layst on me a heavy load of passion and desire, On me that\n     am too weak to bear a shift upon me dight.\nAy, tears of blood I weep, for that my censors say to me, \"A\n     sudden sword, from out his lids thou lovest, shall thee\n     smite.\"\nAh, would my heart were like to thine, even as my body is Like to\n     thy waist, all thin and frail and dwindled for despite!\nThou, that my prince in beauty art, a steward[FN#126] hast, whose\n     rule Aggrieves me and a chamberlain[FN#127] that doth me\n     foul upright.\nHe lies who says, \"All loveliness in Joseph was comprised.\" How\n     many Josephs are there not within thy beauty bright!\nI force myself to turn from thee, for fear of spying eyes, Though\n     sore it irks me to forswear the solace of thy sight.\n\nAt this, trouble and grief redoubled on me and I fell down in a\ncorner; whereupon she sprang up and coming to me, lifted me up\nand took off my outer clothes and wiped my face with her sleeve.\nThen she asked me how I had fared, and I told her all that had\nhappened. \"O my cousin,\" said she, \"as for her sign to thee with\nher palm and five fingers, it meant, 'Return after five days;'\nand her gestures with the mirror and the putting forth of her\nhead and the lowering and raising of the red handkerchief meant,\n'Sit in the dyer's shop, till my messenger come to thee.'\" When I\nheard this, fire flamed up in my heart and I exclaimed, \"O my\ncousin, by Allah, thou sayst sooth in this thine interpretation;\nfor I saw the shop of a Jewish dyer in the street.\" Then I wept,\nand she said, \"O my cousin, summon up resolution and be steadfast\nof heart: others are occupied with love for years and are\nconstant to endure the ardour of passion, whilst thou hast but a\nweek[FN#128] to wait; so why art thou thus impatient?\" Then she\nwent on to cheer me with comfortable talk and brought me food: so\nI took a mouthful, but could not eat and abstained from meat and\ndrink and knew not the solace of sleep, till my colour paled and\nI lost my good looks; for I had never before been in love nor\ntasted the ardour of passion. So I fell sick and my cousin also\nsickened on my account; but every night she would divert me with\nstories of love and lovers, till I fell asleep; and whenever I\nawoke, I used to find her wakeful for my sake, with the tears\nrunning down her cheeks. Thus we did till the five days were\npast, when she rose and heating water, bathed me with it. Then\nshe dressed me and said to me, \"Go to her and may God fulfil your\nwish and bring thee to thy desire of thy beloved!\" So I went out\nand walked on, till I came to the by-street. I found the dyer's\nshop shut, for it was Saturday, and sat before it, till I heard\nthe  call to afternoon-prayer. Then the sun turned pale, the\nMuezzins chanted the call to the prayer of sunset and the night\ncame; but I saw no sign nor heard aught of her. With this, I\nfeared for myself, sitting there alone; so I rose and went home,\nstaggering like a drunken man. When I reached the house, I found\nmy cousin Azizeh standing, with one hand grasping a peg driven\ninto the wall and the other on her breast; and she was sighing\nheavily and repeating the following verses:\n\nThe longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folk are far away, Who\n     yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the hay,[FN#129]\nWhose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water\n     serve And eke her passion, with its heat, their bivouac-fire\n     purvey,\nIs not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love, Who\n     deems that I commit a crime in loving him alway.\n\nWhen she had finished, she turned and seeing me, wiped away her\ntears and mine with her sleeve. Then she smiled in my face and\nsaid, \"O my cousin, God grant thee joy of that which He hath\ngiven thee! Why didst thou not pass the night with thy beloved\nand why hast thou not fulfilled thy desire of her?\" When I heard\nwhat she said, I gave her a kick in the breast and she fell over\non to the edge of the estrade and struck her forehead against a\npeg there. I looked at her and saw that her forehead was cut open\nand the blood running; but she was silent and did not utter a\nsyllable. She made some tinder of rags and staunching the wound\nwith it, bound her forehead with a bandage; after which she wiped\nup the blood that had fallen on the carpet, and it was as if\nnothing had happened. Then she came up to me and smiling in my\nface, said, with gentle speech, \"By Allah, O my cousin, I had it\nnot in my thought to mock at thee or at her! I was troubled with\na pain in my head and thought to be let blood, but now thou hast\neased my head and brow; so tell me what has befallen thee\nto-day.\" So I told her what had passed and she wept and said, \"O\nmy cousin, rejoice in the near fulfilment of thy desire and the\nattainment of thy hopes. Verily, this is a sign of acceptance;\nshe only stayed away, because she wished to try thee and know if\nthou wert patient and sincere in thy love for her or not.\nTo-morrow, do thou go to her at the old place and note what signs\nshe makes to thee; for indeed thy gladness is near and the end of\nthy grief is at hand.\" And she went on to comfort me; but my\ntrouble and affliction ceased not to increase on me. Presently,\nshe brought me food, but I kicked the dishes away, so that their\ncontents were scattered in all directions, and said, \"Every lover\nis a madman; he inclines not to food neither enjoys sleep.\" \"By\nAllah, O my cousin,\" answered she, \"these are indeed the signs of\nlove!\" And the tears streamed down her cheeks, whilst she\ngathered the fragments of the dishes and wiped up the food; then\nshe sat down by me and talked to me, whilst I prayed God to\nhasten the coming of the day. When, at last, the morning arose\nwith its light and shone, I went out and hastening to the\nby-street in question, sat down on the bench, when behold, the\nwicket opened and she put out her head, laughing. Then she went\nin and returned with a mirror, a bag, a pot of flowering plants\nand a lamp. First, she took the mirror and putting it into the\nbag, tied it up and threw it back into the room; after which she\nlet down her hair over her face and set the lamp an instant on\nthe pot of flowers; then took up all the things and shutting the\nwindow, went away, without saying a word. My heart was tortured\nby her obscure signs and mysterious gestures, and passion and\ndistraction redoubled on me. So I retraced my steps, tearful-eyed\nand mournful-hearted, and returning home, found Azizeh sitting,\nwith her face to the wall; for her heart was on fire for grief\nand anxiety and jealousy; albeit the love she bore me forbade her\nto acquaint me with what she suffered, by reason of what she saw\nof the excess of my passion and distraction (for another). I\nlooked at her and saw that she had two bandages on her head, one\non account of the wound on her forehead, and the other over her\neye, which pained her for excess of weeping; and she was in very\nsorry plight, weeping and repeating the following verses:\n\nI count the nights, night after night, the weary nights and slow;\n     Yet would I, once upon a time, unreckoned let them go.\nI have no knowledge, O my friend, of that which God ordains Of\n     Leila or what He decrees to me, but this I know\nHe to another her adjudged and cursed me with her love: So hath\n     He not afflicted me with other than her woe.\n\nWhen she had finished, she looked round and seeing me through her\ntears, wiped them away and came up to me, but could not speak for\nexcess of emotion. So she was silent awhile, then said to me, \"O\nmy cousin, tell me what befell thee with her this time.\" So I\ntold her all that had passed, and she said, \"Be patient, for the\ntime of thy delight is come, and thou hast won to the attainment\nof thy hopes. As for her sign with the mirror and the bag, it was\nas if she said to thee, 'When the sun is set;' and the letting\ndown of her hair over her face signified, When the night is come\nand hath let fall the blackness of the dark and overmastered the\ndaylight, come hither.' As for her gesture with the flower-pot\nand the lamp, it meant, 'When thou comest, enter the garden\nbehind the street, and where as thou seest the lamp burning, go\nthither and seat thyself beneath it and wait for me; for the love\nof thee is killing me.'\" When I heard this, I cried out for\nexcess of passion and said, \"How long wilt thou deceive me with\npromises and I go to her, but get not my will nor find any truth\nin thine interpreting?\" At this, she laughed and replied, \"Thou\nneedest but have patience for the rest of the day, till the light\ndepart and the night come with the darkness, and thou shalt enjoy\nfruition and accomplish thy hopes. And indeed this is true\nwithout leasing.\" And she repeated the following verses:\n\nLet the days pass, as they list, and fare, And enter thou not the\n     house of despair.\nFull oft when the quest of a thing is hard, The next hour brings\n     us the end of our care.\n\nThen she came to me and began to comfort me with soothing words,\nbut dared not offer me food, fearing my wrath and seeking to make\nme incline to her: so she only took off my upper garment and said\nto me, \"Sit, O my cousin, that I may entertain thee with talk,\ntill the end of the day; and God willing, thou shalt be with thy\nbeloved as soon as it is night.\" But I paid no heed to her and\ngave not over looking for the coming of the night, saying, \"O\nLord, hasten the coming of the night!\" till the hour of the\nevening-prayer, when she wept sore and giving me a grain of pure\nmusk, said to me, \"O my cousin, put this in thy mouth, and when\nthou foregatherest with thy beloved and hast taken thy will of\nher and she hath granted thee thy desire, repeat to her this\nverse:\n\nTell me, O lovers, for God's sake, I do entreat of you, When love\n     is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?\"\n\nAnd she kissed me and made me swear not to repeat this to my\nmistress, till I should be about to leave her. Then I went out\nand walked on till I came to the garden. I found the door open;\nso I entered, and seeing a light in the distance, made towards it\nand came to a great pavilion, vaulted over with a dome of ivory\nand ebony, from the midst of which hung the lamp. The floor was\nspread with silken carpets, embroidered in gold and silver, and\nunder the lamp stood a great candle, burning in a stand of gold.\nMidmost the pavilion was a fountain, adorned with all manner of\nfigures; and by it stood a table of food, covered with a silken\nnapkin, and a great porcelain vase full of wine, with a goblet of\ncrystal, sprayed with gold. Near these was a great covered dish\nof silver, which I uncovered and found therein fruits of all\nkinds, figs and pomegranates and grapes and oranges and citrons\nand shaddocks, together with all manner sweet-scented flowers,\nsuch as roses and jasmine and myrtle and eglantine and narcissus\nand all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs; but I saw there not a\nliving soul, no, not even a slave, male or female, to guard these\nthings. I was transported with delight at what I saw, and my\ngrief and anxiety ceased from me. So I sat down to await the\ncoming of the beloved of my heart: but the first hour of the\nnight passed by, and the second and the third, and still she came\nnot. Then I grew sore an hungred, for that it was long since I\nhad tasted food by reason of the violence of my passion: but when\nI found the garden even as my cousin had told me and saw the\ntruth of her interpretation of my mistress's signs, my mind was\nset at rest and I made sure of attaining my desire, so that\nnature resumed its sway and I felt the pangs of hunger. Moreover\nthe odour of the viands on the table excited in me a longing to\neat: so I went up to the table, and lifting the cover, found in\nthe middle a porcelain dish, containing four fricasseed fowls,\nseasoned with spices, round which were four smaller dishes, one\ncontaining sweetmeats, another conserve of pomegranate-seeds, a\nthird almond patties and a fourth honey fritters, and the\ncontents of these dishes were part sweet and part acid. So I ate\nof the fritters and a piece of meat, then went on to the almond\npatties and ate what I would of them; after which I attacked the\nsweetmeats, of which I ate a spoonful or two or three or four,\nending with part of a fowl and a mouthful of bread. With this my\nstomach became full and my limbs heavy and I grew drowsy; so I\nlaid my head on a cushion, after having washed my hands, and\nsleep overcame me; and I knew not what happened to me after this\nnor did I awake till the sun's heat burnt me, for that I had not\ntasted sleep for days. When I awoke, I found myself lying on the\nnaked marble, with a piece of salt and another of charcoal on my\nstomach; so I stood up and shook my clothes and turned right and\nleft, but could see no one. At this I was perplexed and\nafflicted; the tears ran down my cheeks and I mourned grievously\nfor myself. Then I returned home, and when I entered, I found my\ncousin beating her bosom and weeping like the rain-clouds, as she\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nFrom out my loved one's land a breeze blows cool and sweet: The\n     fragrance of its wafts stirs up the ancient heat.\nBlow, zephyr of the East! Each lover hath his lot, His\n     heaven-appointed doom of fortune or defeat.\nLo, if we might, we would embrace thee for desire, Even as a\n     lover clips his mistress, when they meet.\nWhenas my cousin's face is absent, God forbids All pleasance\n     [unto me] and all life has of sweet.\nAh, would I knew his heart was even as is mine, All wasted and\n     consumed by passion's flaming feet!\n\nWhen she saw me, she rose in haste and wiping away her tears,\naccosted me with her soft speech, saying, \"O my cousin, verily\nGod hath been gracious to thee in thy love, in that she whom thou\nlovest loves thee, whilst I pass my time in weeping and lamenting\nmy separation from thee that blamest and chidest me; but may God\nnot reproach thee for my sake!\" Then she smiled in my face, a sad\nsmile, and caressed me; then taking off my outer clothes, she\nspread them out and said, \"By Allah, this is not the scent of one\nwho hath enjoyed his mistress! Tell me what has befallen thee, O\nmy cousin.\" So I told her all that had passed, and she smiled\nagain, a sad smile, and said, \"Verily, my heart is full of pain;\nbut may he not live who would hurt thy heart! Indeed, this woman\nmakes herself extravagantly difficult to thee, and by Allah, I\nfear for thee from her. Know that the meaning of the salt is that\nthou wert drowned in sleep and she likens thee to insipid food,\nat which the soul sickens; and it is as if she said to thee, 'It\nbehoves that thou be salted, lest nature reject thee. Thou\nprofessest to be of the true lovers, but sleep is forbidden to a\nlover; therefore, thy love is false.' But it is her love for thee\nthat is false; for she saw thee asleep, yet awoke thee not, and\nwere her love for thee sincere, she had aroused thee. As for the\ncharcoal, it means, 'God blacken thy face, for that thou makest\na lying presence of love, whereas thou art but a child and\nhast no concern but to eat and drink and sleep!' This is the\ninterpretation of her signs, and may God the Most High deliver\nthee from her!\" When I heard my cousin's words, I beat my breast\nwith my hand and cried out, \"By Allah, this is the truth, for I\nslept and lovers sleep not! Indeed, I have sinned against myself,\nfor nought could have done me more hurt than eating and sleeping.\nWhat shall I do!\" Then I wept sore and said to her, \"Have\ncompassion on me and tell me what to do, so may God have\ncompassion on thee: else I shall die.\" Now my cousin loved me\nvery dearly; so she replied, \"On my head and eyes. But, O my\ncousin, as I have told thee often, could I go in and out at will,\nI would very soon bring you together and cover you both with my\nskirt: nor would I do this but hoping to win thy favour. God\nwilling, I will do my utmost endeavour to bring about your union;\nbut hearken thou to me and do as I bid thee. Go to the garden at\nnightfall and sit down in the same place and look thou eat not,\nfor eating induces sleep; and beware of sleeping, for she will\nnot come to thee, till a fourth part of the night be passed. And\nmay God save thee from her mischief!\" When I heard this, I\nrejoiced and besought God to hasten the night. As soon as it was\ndark, I rose to go, and my cousin said to me, \"If thou foregather\nwith her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee, at the time of\nleave-taking.\" \"On my head and eyes,\" replied I, and going out,\nrepaired to the garden, where I found all as on the previous\nnight, with meat and drink spread ready, and dessert and flowers\nand so forth. I went up into the pavilion and smelt the odour of\nthe viands and my soul lusted after them; but I forbore awhile,\ntill at last I could no longer restrain my appetite. So I went up\nto the table, and raising the cover, found a dish of fowls,\nsurrounded by four smaller dishes, containing various meats. I\nate a mouthful of each dish and a piece of meat and as much as I\nwould of the sweetmeat: then I tasted a dish of rice dressed with\nhoney and saffron and liking it, supped of it by the spoonful,\ntill I was satisfied and my belly was full. With this, my eyelids\nbecame heavy; so I took a cushion and put it under my head,\nsaying, \"Surely I can recline upon it, without going to sleep.\"\nThen I closed my eyes and slept, nor did I wake till the sun had\nrisen, when I found myself lying on the bare marble, with a die\nof bone, a play-stick,[FN#130] a green date-stone[FN#131] and a\ncarob-bean on my stomach. There was no furniture nor aught else\nin the place, and it was as if there had been nothing there\nyesterday. So I rose and shaking all these things off me, went\nout in a rage, and going home, found my cousin sighing and\nrepeating the following verses:\n\nWasted body and heart a-bleeding for despair And tears that down\n     my cheeks stream on and on for e'er,\nAnd a beloved one persistent in disdain; Yet all a fair one does\n     must needs be right and fair.\nO cousin mine, thou'st filled my heart with longing pain And\n     wounded are mine eyes with tears that never spare.\n\nI chid her and reviled her, at which she wept; then wiping away\nher tears, she came up to me and kissed me and pressed me to her\nbosom, whilst I held back from her and blamed myself. Then she\nsaid to me, \"O my cousin, meseems thou didst sleep again last\nnight?\" \"Yes,\" replied I; \"and when I awoke, I found on my\nstomach a die of bone, a play-stick, a green date-stone and a\ncarob-bean, and I know not why she did this.\" Then I wept and\nsaid to her, \"Expound to me her meaning in this and tell me what\nI shall do and help me in this my strait.\" \"On my head and eyes,\"\nanswered she. \"Know then that, by the figure of the die and the\nplay-stick, she says to thee, 'Thy body is present, but thy heart\nabsent. Love is not thus: so do not reckon thyself among lovers.'\nAs for the date-stone, it is as if she said to thee, 'If thou\nwert in love, thy heart would be on fire with passion and thou\nwouldst not taste the delight of sleep; for the sweet of love is\nlike a green date and kindles a fire in the entrails.' As for the\ncarob-bean, it signifies, 'The lover's heart is wearied; so be\nthou patient under our separation, even as Job was patient.'\"\nWhen I heard this, fires raged in my entrails and grief redoubled\nupon my heart and I cried out, saying, \"God ordained sleep to me,\nof my ill-fortune!\" Then I said to her, \"O my cousin, I conjure\nthee by my life, contrive me some device whereby I may win to\nher!\" She wept and answered, \"O Aziz, O my cousin, verily my\nheart is full of melancholy thought and I cannot speak: but go\nthou again to-night to the same place and look that thou sleep\nnot, and thou shalt surely attain thy desire. This is my counsel\nand peace be on thee.\" \"God willing,\" said I, \"I will not sleep,\nbut will do as thou biddest me.\" Then she rose and set food\nbefore me, saying, \"Eat now what may suffice thee, that thy heart\nmay be free.\" So I ate my fill, and when the night came, my\ncousin rose and bringing me a sumptuous suit of clothes, clad me\ntherein. Then she made me promise to repeat the verse aforesaid\nto my mistress and bade me beware of sleeping. So I left her and\nrepairing to the garden, went up into the pavilion, where I\noccupied myself with gazing on the garden, holding my eyes open\nwith my fingers and wagging my head from side to side, as the\nnight darkened on me. Presently I grew hungry with watching, and\nthe smell of the meats, being wafted towards me, increased my\nhunger: so I went up to the table and taking off the cover, ate a\npiece of meat and a mouthful of every dish; after which I turned\nto the vessel of wine, saying in myself, \"I will drink one cup.\"\nSo I drank one cup and a second and a third, till I had drunk\nfull half a score, when the air smote me and I fell to the earth\nlike a dead man. I lay thus till day, when I awoke and found\nmyself without the garden, with a large sharp knife and an iron\ndirhem[FN#132] on my stomach. I arose trembling and taking the\nknife and the dirhem, went home where I found my cousin saying,\n\"Verily, I am in this house wretched and sorrowful, having no\nhelper but weeping.\" When I entered, I fell down at full length\nand fainted, throwing the knife and the dirhem from my hand. As\nsoon as I came to myself, I told her what had passed and said,\n\"Indeed, I shall never enjoy my desire.\" The sight of my tears\nand my passion redoubled her distress on my account, and she\nsaid, \"Verily, I can no more. I warned thee against sleeping; but\nthou wouldst not listen to my counsel, and my words profited thee\nnothing.\" \"By Allah,\" cried I, \"I conjure thee to explain to me\nthe meaning of the knife and the dirhem.\" \"By the dirhem,\"\nreplied she, \"she alludes to her right eye, and it is as if she\nsaid to thee, 'I swear, by the Lord of all creatures and by my\nright eye, that, if thou come here again and sleep, I will slay\nthee with this knife!' And indeed, O my cousin, I fear for thee\nfrom her malice; my heart is full of anguish for thee and I\ncannot speak. Nevertheless, if thou canst be sure of thyself not\nto sleep, return to her and thou shalt attain thy desire; but if\nthou sleep, according to thy wont, she will surely slay thee.\" \"O\nmy cousin,\" said I, \"what shall I do? I conjure thee, by Allah,\nto help me in this my affliction!\" \"On my head and eyes,\" replied\nshe. \"If thou wilt hearken to me and do as I say, thou shalt have\nthy will.\" Quoth I, \"I will indeed hearken to thee and do thy\nbidding.\" And she said, \"When it is time for thee to go, I will\ntell thee.\" Then she pressed me to her bosom and laying me on the\nbed, rubbed my feet, till drowsiness overcame me and I was\ndrowned in sleep; when she took a fan and seating herself at my\nhead, ceased not to fan my face till the end of the day. Then she\nawoke me, and I found her sitting at my head weeping, with the\nfan in her hand and her clothes wet with tears. When she saw that\nI was awake, she wiped away her tears and fetching food, set it\nbefore me. I refused it, but she said to me, \"Didst thou not\npromise to do my bidding? Eat.\" So I ate and did not cross her,\nand she proceeded to put the food into my mouth and I to eat,\ntill I was full. Then she made me drink sherbet of jujube-fruit\nand sugar and washed my hands and dried them with a napkin; after\nwhich she sprinkled me with rose-water, and I sat with her\nawhile, restored to health and spirits. When the night had closed\nin, she dressed me and said to me, \"O my cousin, watch all night\nand sleep not; for she will not come to thee this time till the\nlast of the night, and God willing, thou shalt foregather with\nher this night: but do not forget my charge.\" Then she wept, and\nmy heart was sore for her by reason of her much weeping, and I\nsaid to her, \"What is the charge thou gavest me?\" \"When thou art\nabout to take leave of her,\" replied she, \"repeat to her the\nverse I taught thee.\" So I left her, full of gladness, and\nrepairing to the garden, entered the pavilion, where I sat down\nsatiated with food, and watched till a fourth part of the night\nwas past. The night was tedious to me as it were a year: but I\nremained awake, till it was three quarters spent and the cocks\ncried out and I became sore an hungred for long watching. So I\nwent up to the table and ate my fill, whereupon my head grew\nheavy and I was on the point of falling asleep, when I espied a\nlight making towards me from afar. So I sprang up and washed my\nhands and mouth and roused myself; and before long, up came the\nlady, accompanied by ten damsels, in whose midst she shone, like\nthe full moon among the stars. She was clad in a dress of green\nsatin, embroidered with red gold, and she was as says the poet:\n\nShe lords it over her lovers in garments all of green, With open\n     vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.\n\"What is thy name?\" I asked her, and she replied, \"I'm she Who\n     burns the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen.\"\nI made my moan unto her of passion and desire; \"Upon a rock,\" she\n     answered, \"thy plaints are wasted clean.\"\n\"Even if thy heart,\" I told her, \"be rock in very deed, Yet hath\n     God made fair water well from the rock, I ween.\"\n\nWhen she saw me, she laughed and said, \"How is it that thou art\nawake and that sleep hath not overcome thee. Now that thou hast\npassed the night without sleep, I know that thou art in love, for\nit is the mark of a lover to watch the night for stress of\nlonging.\" Then she signed to her women and they went away,\nwhereupon she came up to me and strained me to her bosom and\nkissed me and sucked my upper lip, whilst I kissed her and sucked\nher lower lip. I put my hand to her waist and pressed it and we\ncame to the ground at the same moment. Then she undid her\ntrousers and they fell down to her anklets and we fell to\nclipping and toying and cricketing and speaking softly and biting\nand intertwining of legs and going round about the House and the\ncorners thereof,[FN#133] till her senses failed her for delight\nand she swooned away. And indeed that night was heart-gladdening\nand eye-refreshing, even as says the poet:\n\nThe sweetest of all the nights that ever the world can show! The\n     cup in it stinted never from hand to hand to go.\nTherein I did dissever mine eyes from sleep and made The\n     ear-drop[FN#134] and the anklet[FN#135] foregather evermo'.\n\n\nWe lay together till the morning, when I would have gone away,\nbut she stopped me, saying, \"Stay, till I tell thee somewhat and\ngive thee a charge.\" So I waited, whilst she undid a handkerchief\nand taking out this piece of linen, spread it out before me. I\nsaw worked on it these two figures of gazelles and admired it\nexceedingly; and she said to me, \"Keep this carefully, for it is\nmy sister's work.\" \"What is thy sister's name?\" asked I, and she\nanswered, \"Nour el Huda.\" Then I took the piece of linen and went\naway, joyful, after we had agreed that I should visit her every\nnight in the garden; but in my joy I forgot to repeat to her the\nverse my cousin had taught me. When I reached home, I found\nAzizeh lying down; but, as soon as she saw me, she rose, with the\ntears running from her eyes, and coming up to me, kissed me on\nthe breast and said, \"Didst thou repeat the verse to her, as I\nenjoined thee?\" \"I forgot it,\" answered I; \"and here is what made\nme forget it.\" And I threw the piece of linen down before her.\nShe rose and sat down again, but was unable to contain herself\nand her eyes ran over with tears, whilst she repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO thou that seekest severance, forbear; Let not the fair delude\n     thee with their sleight.\nSoftly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of\n     love-delight.\n\nThen she said, \"O my cousin, give me this piece of linen.\" So I\ngave it to her, and she took it and unfolding it, saw what was\ntherein. When the time came for my going to my mistress, she said\nto me, \"Go and peace be with thee; and when thou art about to\nleave her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee and which thou\nforgottest.\" Quoth I, \"Repeat it to me.\" So she repeated it. Then\nI went to the garden and entered the pavilion, where I found the\nlady awaiting me. When she saw me, she rose and kissed me and\nmade me sit in her lap; and we ate and drank and did our desire\nas on the previous night. In the morning, I repeated to her my\ncousin's verse:\n\nTell me, O lovers, for God's sake I do entreat of you, When love\n     is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?\n\nWhen she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she answered\nwith the following verse:\n\nAgainst her passion she must strive and hide her case from view\n     And humble and submissive be, whatever may ensue.\n\nThis I committed to memory and returned home, rejoiced at having\ndone my cousin's errand. When I entered the house, I found Azizeh\nlying on the bed and my mother at her head, weeping over her\ncondition. When the latter saw me, she said to me, \"Out on thee\nfor a cousin! How couldst thou leave the daughter of thine uncle\nin ill case and not ask what ailed her?\" Azizeh, seeing me,\nraised her head and sat up and said, \"O Aziz, didst thou repeat\nthe verse to her?\" \"Yes,\" replied I; \"and she wept and recited,\nin answer, another verse, which I remember.\" \"Tell it me,\" said\nAzizeh. I did so; and she wept and repeated the following verses:\n\nHow shall she temper her desire, It doth her fire undo, And still\n     with each recurring day her heart is cleft in two.\nIndeed, she strives for patience fair, but findeth nought in her\n     Except a heart too weak to bear the love that makes her rue.\n\n\"When thou goest to thy mistress as of wont,\" added she, \"repeat\nto her these verses also.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I and\nbetook myself, at the wonted time, to the garden, where there\npassed between my mistress and myself what the tongue fails to\ndescribe. As I was about to leave her, I repeated to her my\ncousin's verses; whereupon the tears streamed from her eyes and\nshe replied:\n\nIf she her secret cannot hide and lack of patience due, I see no\n     help for her but death, of all things old and new.\n\nThen I returned home, where I found Azizeh fallen of a swoon and\nmy mother sitting at her head. When she heard my voice, she\nopened her eyes and said, \"O Aziz, didst thou repeat the verses\nto her?\" \"Yes,\" answered I; \"and she replied with this verse.\"\nAnd I repeated it; whereupon my cousin swooned again, and when\nshe came to herself, she recited the following verses:\n\n\"I hearken, I obey, I die; yet bear to one who slew My hopes of\n     union and delight, my greeting and adieu.\nFair fall the happy of their joy, alack! and fair befall The\n     wretched lover of the cup that's set her lips unto.\"\n\nWhen it was night, I repaired, as of wont, to the garden, where I\nfound my mistress awaiting me. We sat down and ate and drank,\nafter which we did our need and slept till the morning; and as I\nwas going away, I repeated to her Azizeh's verses. When she heard\nthem, she gave a loud cry and was greatly moved and exclaimed,\n\"Alas! Alas! She who said these words is dead!\" Then she wept and\nsaid to me, \"Out on thee! What kin is she, who spoke thus, to\nthee?\" \"She is the daughter of my father's brother,\" replied I.\n\"Thou liest,\" rejoined she. \"By Allah, were she thy cousin, thou\nwouldst have loved her even as she loved thee! It is thou who\nhast killed her, and may God in like manner kill thee! By Allah,\nhadst thou told me thou hadst a cousin, I would not have admitted\nthee to my favours!\" Quoth I, \"Indeed, she is my cousin, and it\nwas she who interpreted to me thy signs and taught me how to come\nat thee and how I should deal with thee; and but for her, I had\nnever won to thee.\" \"Did she then know of us?\" asked she. \"Yes,\"\nanswered I; and she exclaimed, \"God give thee sorrow of thy\nyouth, even as thou hast wasted hers!\" Then she said to me, \"Go\nand see after her.\" So I went away, troubled at heart, and when I\nreached our street, I heard a sound of wailing, and asking about\nit, was answered, \"We found Azizeh dead behind the door.\" I\nentered the house, and when my mother saw me, she said to me,\n\"Her death lies at thy door, and may God not acquit thee of her\nblood! Out on thee for a cousin!\" Then came my father, and we\nlaid her out and did her the last offices and buried her.\nMoreover, we let make recitations of the Koran over her tomb and\nabode there three days, after which we returned home, grieving\nfor her. When I entered the house, my mother came to me and said,\n\"I would fain know what thou didst to her, to break her heart,\nfor, O my son, I questioned her many times of the cause of her\nmalady, but she would tell me nothing. So, God on thee, tell me\nwhat thou didst to her, that she died.\" Quoth I, \"I did nothing.\"\n\"May God avenge her on thee!\" rejoined my mother. \"She told me\nnothing, but kept her secret till she died, of her affection for\nthee. But when she died, I was with her, and she opened her eyes\nand said to me, 'O wife of my uncle, may God hold thy son\nguiltless of my blood and punish him not for that he hath done\nwith me! And now He transporteth me from this transitory house of\nthe world to the other and eternal dwelling-place.' 'O my\ndaughter,' said I, 'God preserve thee and preserve thy youth!'\nAnd I questioned her of the cause of her illness; but she made me\nno answer. Then she smiled and said, 'O wife of my uncle, when my\ncousin is about to repair to the place whither he goes every day,\nbid him repeat these two words at his going away: \"Faith is fair\nand perfidy foul.\" For this is of my tenderness over him, that I\nam solicitous for him in my lifetime and after my death.' Then\nshe gave me somewhat for thee and made me swear that I would not\ngive it to thee, till I should see thee weeping for her and\nlamenting her death. The thing is with me, and when I see thee as\nI have said, I will give it to thee.\" \"Show it me,\" quoth I: but\nshe would not. Then I gave myself up to my pleasures and thought\nno more of my cousin's death; for I was light-witted and would\nfain have been with my beloved day and night. So hardly had the\nnight fallen, when I betook myself to the garden, where I found\nthe lady sitting on coals of fire, for much waiting. As soon as\nshe saw me, she ran to me and throwing her arms about my neck,\nenquired of my cousin. \"She is dead,\" replied I; \"and we have\ncaused litanies and recitations of the Koran to be performed for\nher; and it is now four nights since she died.\" When she heard\nthis, she shrieked aloud and wept, saying, \"Did I not tell thee\nthat thou hadst slain her? Hadst thou let me know of her before\nher death, I would have requited her the kindness she did me, in\nthat she served me and brought thee to me; for but for her, we\nhad never come together; and I fear lest some calamity befall\nthee by reason of thy sin against her.\" Quoth I, \"She acquitted\nme before she died.\" And I repeated to her what my mother had\ntold me. \"God on thee,\" rejoined she, \"when thou returnest to thy\nmother, learn what it is she hath for thee.\" Quoth I, \"My mother\nalso said to me, 'Before thy cousin died, she laid a charge upon\nme, saying, \"When thy son is about to go whither of wont, teach\nhim these two words, 'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'\" When my\nmistress heard this, she exclaimed, \"The mercy of God the Most\nHigh be upon her! Indeed, she hath delivered thee from me, for I\nhad it in mind to do thee a mischief, but now I will not hurt\nthee nor trouble thee.\" I wondered at this and said to her, \"What\nthen didst thou purpose to do with me, and we lovers?\" Quoth she,\n\"Thou art infatuated with me; for thou art young and witless; thy\nheart is free from guile and thou knowest not our perfidy and\nmalice. Were she yet alive, she would protect thee, for she is\nthe cause of thy preservation and hath delivered thee from\ndestruction. And now I charge thee that thou speak not with\nneither accost any of our sex, young or old, for thou art young\nand simple and knowest not the wiles of women and their malice,\nand she who explained the signs to thee is dead. And indeed I\nfear for thee, lest thou fall into some calamity and find none to\ndeliver thee from it, now that thy cousin is dead. Alas, the pity\nof her! Would God I had known her before her death, that I might\nhave visited her and requited her the fair service she did me!\nThe mercy of the Most High be upon her, for she kept her secret\nand revealed not what she suffered, and but for her, thou hadst\nnever won to me! But there is one thing I desire of thee.\" \"What\nis it?\" said I. \"It is,\" answered she, \"that thou bring me to her\ngrave, that I may visit her in the tomb wherein she is and write\nsome verses thereon.\" \"To-morrow,\" replied I, \"if it be the will\nof God.\" Then I lay with her that night, and she ceased not, from\ntime to time, to say, \"Would thou hadst told me of thy cousin,\nbefore her death!\" And I said to her, \"What is the meaning of the\ntwo words she taught me?\" But she made me no answer. As soon as\nit was day, she rose and taking a purse of dinars, said to me,\n\"Come, show me her tomb, that I may visit it and grave some\nverses thereon and build a dome over it and commend her to the\nmercy of God and bestow these dinars in alms for her soul.\" \"I\nhear and obey,\" replied I and went on before her, whilst she\nfollowed me, giving alms by the way and saying to all to whom she\ngave, \"This is an alms for the soul of Azizeh, who kept her\ncounsel, till she drank the cup of death, and discovered not the\nsecret of her passion.\" And she stinted not thus to give alms and\nsay, \"For Azizeh's soul,\" till the purse was empty and we came to\nthe burial-place. When she saw the tomb, she wept and threw\nherself upon it; then pulling out a graver of steel and a light\nmallet, she graved the following verses, in fine characters, upon\nthe stone at the head of the tomb:\n\nI passed by a ruined tomb, in the midst of a garden-way, Upon\n     whose letterless stone seven blood-red anemones lay.\n\"Who sleeps in this unmarked grave?\" I said; and the earth, \"Bend\n     low; For a lover lies here and waits for the Resurrection\n     Day.\"\n\"God help thee, O victim of love,\" I cried, \"and bring thee to\n     dwell In the highest of all the heavens of Paradise, I pray!\nHow wretched are lovers all, even in the sepulchre, When their\n     very graves are covered with ruin and decay!\nLo, if I might, I would plant thee a garden round about And with\n     my streaming tears the thirst of its flowers allay!\"\n\nThen she returned to the garden, weeping, and I with her, and she\nsaid to me, \"By Allah, thou shalt never leave me!\" \"I hear and\nobey,\" answered I. Then I devoted myself wholly to her and paid\nher frequent visits, and she was good and generous to me. As\noften as I passed the night with her, she would make much of me\nand ask me of the two words my cousin told my mother, and I would\nrepeat them to her.\n\nI abode thus a whole year, till, what with eating and drinking\nand dalliance and wearing change of rich raiment, I waxed stout\nand fat, so that I lost all thought of sorrow and anxiety and\nforgot my cousin Azizeh. At the end of this time, I went one\nday to the bath, where I refreshed myself and put on a rich\nsuit of clothes, scented with various perfumes; then, coming\nout I drank a cup of wine and smelt the fragrance of my new\nclothes, whereupon my breast dilated, for I knew not the\nperfidy of fortune nor the calamities of events. When the hour\nof evening-prayer came, I thought to repair to my mistress; but\nbeing heated with wine, I knew not where I went, so that, on the\nway, my drunkenness turned me into a by-street called En Nekib,\nwhere, as I was going along, I met an old woman with a lighted\nflambeau in one hand and a folded letter in the other; and she\nwas weeping and repeating the following verses:\n\nO welcome, bearer of glad news, thrice welcome to my sight; How\n     sweet and solaceful to me thy tidings of delight!\nThou that the loved one's greeting bringst unto my longing soul,\n     God's peace, what while the zephyr blows, dwell with thee\n     day and night!\n\nWhen she saw me, she said to me, \"O my son, canst thou read?\" And\nI, of my officiousness, answered, \"Yes, O old aunt.\" \"Then, take\nthis letter,\" rejoined she, \"and read it to me.\" So I took the\nletter, and unfolding it, read it to her. Now it contained the\ngreetings of an absent man to his friends; and when she heard its\npurport, she rejoiced and was glad and called down blessings on\nme, saying, \"May God dispel thine anxiety, as thou hast dispelled\nmine!\" Then she took the letter and walked on. Meanwhile, I was\nseized with a pressing need and squatted down on my heels to make\nwater. When I had finished, I stood up and cleansed myself with\npebbles, then shaking down my clothes, was about to go my way,\nwhen the old woman came up to me again and bending down to kiss\nmy hand, said, \"O my lord, God give thee joy of thy youth! I\nentreat thee to go with me to yonder door, for I told them what\nthou readest to me of the letter, and they believe me not: so\ncome with me two steps and read them the letter from behind the\ndoor and accept my devout prayers.\" \"What is the history of this\nletter?\" asked I; and she answered, \"O my son, it is from my son,\nwho hath been absent from us these ten years. He set out with\nmerchandise and tarried long in foreign parts, till we lost hope\nof him, supposing him to be dead. Now comes this letter from him,\nand he has a sister, who weeps for him day and night; so I said\nto her, 'He is in good health and case.' But she will not believe\nand says, 'Thou must needs bring me one who will read the letter\nin my presence, that my heart may be set at rest and my mind\neased.' Thou knowest, O my son, that those who love are prone to\nimagine evil: so do me the favour to go with me and read the\nletter, standing without the door, whilst I call his sister to\nlisten behind the curtain, so shalt thou dispel our anxiety and\nfulfil our need. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve),\n'He who eases an afflicted one of one of the troubles of this\nworld, God will ease him of a hundred troubles;' and according to\nanother tradition, 'Whoso relieves his brother of one of the\ntroubles of this world, God will relieve him of two-and-seventy\ntroubles of the Day of Resurrection.' And I have betaken myself\nto thee; so do not disappoint me.\" \"I hear and obey,\" replied I.\n\"Do thou go before me.\" So she went on and I followed her a\nlittle way, till she came to the gate of a large handsome house,\nwhose door was plated with copper. I stood without the door,\nwhilst the old woman cried out in Persian, and before I could\nthink, a damsel ran up, with a nimble and agile step. She had\ntucked up her trousers to her knees, so that I saw a pair of legs\nthat confounded mind and eye, for they were like columns of\nalabaster, adorned with anklets of gold, set with jewels. As says\nthe poet, describing her:\n\nO thou who barest thy leg for lovers to look upon, That by the\n     sight of the leg the rest they may infer,\nWho passest the cup around midst thy gallants, brisk and free,\n     Nought seduces the folk but the cup[FN#136] and the\n     cup-bearer.[FN#137]\n\nShe had seemingly been engaged in work of some kind, for she had\ntucked the end of her shift within the ribbon of her trousers and\nthrown the skirt of her robe over her arm. Her sleeves were\nrolled up to the elbows, so that I could see her white wrists and\nforearms, on which were two pairs of bracelets, with clasps of\ngreat pearls and round her neck was a collar of precious stones.\nHer ears were adorned with pendants of pearls and on her head she\nwore a kerchief of brocade, embroidered with jewels of price.\nWhen I saw her I was confounded at her beauty, for she was like\nthe shining sun. Then she said, with clear and dulcet speech,\nnever heard I sweeter, \"O my mother, is this he who cometh to\nread the letter?\" \"It is,\" replied the old woman; and she put out\nher hand to me with the letter. Now she was standing about half a\nrod within the door; so I stretched out my hand and put my head\nand shoulders within the door, thinking to draw near her and read\nthe letter, when behold, before I knew what she would be at, the\nold woman thrust her head into my back and pushed me forward,\nwith the letter in my hand, so that before I could think, I found\nmyself in the vestibule. Then she entered, swiftlier than the\nblinding lightning, and had but to shut the door. When the damsel\nsaw me in the vestibule, she came up to me and straining me to\nher bosom, threw me to the floor, then knelt upon my breast and\nkneaded my belly with her hands, till I lost my senses. Then she\ntook me by the hand and led me unable to resist, for the violence\nof her pressure, through seven vestibules, whilst the old woman\nwent before us with the lighted candle, till we came to a great\nsaloon, with four daises, in which a horseman might play at ball.\nHere she released me, saying, \"Open thine eyes.\" So I opened\nthem, still giddy for the excess of her pressing and pummelling,\nand saw that the whole place was built of the finest alabaster\nand hung and carpeted with stuffs of silk and brocade, with\ncushions and divans of the same. Therein also were two benches of\nbrass and a couch of red gold set with pearls and jewels,\nbefitting none save kings like unto thee. Then said she, \"O Aziz,\nwhich wouldst thou rather, life or death?\" \"Life,\" answered I;\nand she said, \"If life be liefer to thee, thou must marry me.\"\nQuoth I, \"It were odious to me to marry the like of thee.\" \"If\nthou marry me,\" rejoined she, \"thou wilt at least be safe from\nthe daughter of Delileh the crafty.\" \"And who is she?\" asked I.\nShe laughed and replied, \"How comes it that thou knowest her not,\nseeing that to-day thou hast companied with her a year and four\nmonths, may God the Most High destroy her and afflict her with\none worse than herself! By Allah, there lives not a more\nperfidious than she! How many hath she not slain before thee and\nwhat deeds hath she not done! Nor can I understand how thou hast\nbeen so long in her company, yet hath she not killed thee nor\ndone thee any hurt.\" When I heard this, I marvelled exceedingly\nand said, \"Who made thee to know of her, O my lady?\" \"I know of\nher,\" said she, \"as the age knows of its calamities: but now I\nwould fain have thee tell me all that has passed between you,\nthat I may know the cause of thy deliverance from her.\" So I told\nher all that had happened, including the story of my cousin\nAzizeh. When she heard of the latter's death, her eyes ran over\nwith tears and she smote hand upon hand and cried out, \"God have\nmercy on her, for she lost her youth in His service, and may He\nreplace her to thee! By Allah, O Aziz, it was she who was the\ncause of thy preservation  from the daughter of Delileh and but\nfor her, thou hadst been lost! Now she is dead and I fear for\nthee from the other's perfidy and mischief; but my heart is full\nand I cannot speak.\" \"By Allah,\" quoth I, \"all this happened,\neven as thou sayest!\" And she shook her head and said, \"There\nlives not this day the like of Azizeh.\" \"And when she was dying,\"\ncontinued I, \"she bade me repeat to my mistress these two words,\n'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'\" When she heard this, she\nexclaimed, \"By Allah, O Aziz, it was this that saved thee from\ndying by her hand: and now my heart is at ease for thee from her\nfor she will never slay thee and thy cousin preserved thee, both\nin her lifetime and after her death. By Allah, I have desired\nthee this many a day, but could not get at thee till now and\nexcept by a trick, which succeeded with thee for thou art\ninexperienced and knowest not the malice of women nor the wiles\nof old women.\" \"No, by Allah!\" rejoined I. Then said she to me,\n\"Be of good cheer and take comfort; the dead is in the mercy of\nGod and the living shall be fairly entreated. Thou art a handsome\nyouth, and I do not desire thee but according to the ordinance of\nGod and of His prophet, on whom be peace and salvation! Whatever\nthou desirest of money and stuff, thou shalt have without stint,\nand I will not impose any toil on thee, for there is with me\nalways bread baked and water in the pitcher. All I ask of thee is\nthat thou do with me even as the cock does.\" \"And what is it the\ncock does?\" asked I. At this she laughed and clapped her hands\nand fell over on her back for excess of laughter: then she sat up\nand said, \"O light of my eyes, dost thou not know what the cock's\nbusiness is?\" \"No, by Allah!\" replied I; and she said, \"The\ncock's business is to eat and drink and tread.\" I was abashed at\nher words and said, \"Is that the cock's business?\" \"Yes,\"\nanswered she; \"and all I ask of thee now is to gird thy loins and\nstrengthen thy resolution and swive thy best.\" Then she clapped\nher hands and cried out, saying, \"O my mother, bring hither those\nwho are with thee.\" Whereupon in came the old woman, carrying a\nveil of silk and accompanied by four lawful witnesses, who\nsaluted me and sat down. Then she lighted four candles, whilst\nthe young lady covered herself with the veil and deputed one of\nthe witnesses to execute the contract on her behalf. So they drew\nup the marriage contract and she acknowledged to have received\nthe whole of her dowry, both precedent and contingent, and to be\nindebted to me in the sum of ten thousand dirhems. Then he gave\nthe witnesses their fee and they withdrew whence they came;\nwhereupon she put off her clothes and abode in a shift of fine\nsilk, laced with gold, after which she took me by the hand and\ncarried me up to the couch, saying, \"There is no blame in what is\nlawful.\" She lay down on her back and drawing me on to her\nbreast, heaved a sigh and followed it up with an amorous gesture.\nThen she pulled up the shift above her breasts, and when I saw\nher thus, I could not choose but thrust into her, after I had\nsucked her lips, whilst she moaned and made a show of bashfulness\nand wept without tears. And indeed the case reminded me of the\nsaying of the poet:\n\nWhen I drew up her shift and discovered the terrace-roof of her\n     kaze, I found it as strait as my humour or eke my worldly\n     ways.\nSo I drove it incontinent in, halfway; and she heaved a sigh.\n     \"For what dost thou sigh?\" quoth I. \"For the rest of it,\n     sure,\" she says.\n\nThen said she, \"O my beloved, to it and do thy best, for I am\nthine handmaid. My life on thee, give it me, all of it, that I\nmay take it in my hand and thrust it into my entrails!\" And she\nceased not to excite me with sobs and sighs and amorous gestures,\nin the intervals of kissing and clipping, till we attained the\nsupreme felicity and the term of our desires. We lay together\ntill the morning, when I would have gone out; but she came up to\nme, laughing, and said, \"Thinkest thou that going out of the bath\nis the same as going in?[FN#138] Verily, I believe thou deemest\nme to be the like of the daughter of Delileh. Beware of such a\nthought, for thou art my husband by contract and according to\nlaw. If thou be drunken, return to thy right mind and know that\nthis house is opened but one day in every year. Go down and look\nat the great door.\" So I went down and found the door locked and\nnailed up and returned and told her so. \"Know, O Aziz,\" said she,\n\"that we have in this house flour and grain and fruits and\npomegranates and sugar and meat and sheep and fowls and so forth,\nenough to serve us for many years; and henceforth, the door will\nnot be opened till after the lapse of a whole year, nor shalt\nthou find thyself without till then.\" Quoth I, \"There is no power\nand no virtue but in God!\" \"And what can this irk thee,\" rejoined\nshe, \"seeing thou knowest the cock's craft, of which I told\nthee?\" Then she laughed and I laughed too, and I conformed to\nwhat she said and abode with her, plying the cock's craft, eating\nand drinking and cricketing, twelve whole months, during which\ntime she conceived by me and brought me a son. At the end of the\nyear, I heard the door opened and men came in with manchets and\nflour and sugar. Thereupon, I would have gone out, but my wife\nsaid, \"Wait till nightfall and go out as thou camest in.\" So I\nwaited till the hour of evening-prayer, and was about to go forth\nin fear and trembling, when she stopped me, saying, \"By Allah, I\nwill not let thee go, except thou swear to return this night\nbefore the closing of the door.\" I agreed to this, and she made\nme take a solemn oath by sword and Koran and the oath of divorce\nto boot that I would return to her. Then I left her and going\nstraight to the garden, found the door open as usual; whereat I\nwas angry and said to myself, \"I have been absent a whole year\nand come here at unawares and find the place open as of wont! I\nwonder, is the damsel still in her old case? Algates I must enter\nand see, before I go to my mother, more by token that it is now\nnightfall.\" So I entered and making for the pavilion, found the\ndaughter of Delileh sitting there with her head on her knee and\nher hand to her cheek. Her colour was changed and her eyes\nsunken; but when she saw me, she exclaimed, \"Praised be God for\nthy safety!\" and would have risen, but fell down for joy. I was\nabashed before her and hung my head; but presently went up to\nher, and kissing her, said, \"How knewest thou that I should come\nto thee to-night?\" \"I knew it not,\" replied she. \"By Allah, this\nwhole year past I have not tasted sleep, but have watched every\nnight, expecting thee, from the day thou wentest out from me and\nI gave thee the new suit of clothes, and thou didst promise me to\ngo to the bath and come back! So I abode awaiting thee that night\nand a second and a third; but thou camest not till now, and I\never expecting thy coming, for this is the way of lovers. And now\nI would have thee tell me what has been the cause of thine\nabsence this year long.\" So I told her all that had happened: and\nwhen she knew that I was married, her colour paled. \"I have come\nto thee to-night,\" added I; \"but I must leave thee before day.\"\nQuoth she, \"Doth it not suffice her to have tricked thee into\nmarrying her and kept thee prisoner with her a whole year, but\nshe must make thee take the oath of divorce to return to her\nbefore morning and not allow thee to divert thyself with thy\nmother or me nor suffer thee to pass one night with either of us,\naway from her? How, then, must it be with one from whom thou hast\nbeen absent a whole year, and I knew thee before she did? But may\nGod have compassion on thy cousin Azizeh, for there befell her\nwhat never befell any and she endured what never any endured else\nand died, oppressed and rejected of thee; yet was it she\nprotected thee against me. Indeed, I thought thou didst love me,\nso let thee take thine own way; else had I not let thee go safe\nand sound, when I had it in my power to hold thee in duresse and\ndestroy thee.\" Then she wept and waxed wroth and shuddered in my\nface and looked at me with angry eyes. When I saw this, I was\nterrified at her and trembled in every nerve, for she was like a\ndreadful ghoul and I like a bean over the fire. Then said she,\n\"Thou art of no use to me, now thou art married and hast a child,\nnor art thou any longer fit for my company. I care only for\nbachelors and not for married men; for they profit us nothing.\nThou hast sold me for yonder stinking nosegay; but by Allah, I\nwill make the baggage's heart ache for thee, for thou shalt not\nlive either for me or for her!\" Then she gave a loud cry, and ere\nI could think, up came ten damsels and threw me on the ground;\nwhereupon she rose and taking a knife, said, \"I will slaughter\nthee like a he-goat; and that will be less than thy desert, for\nthy behaviour to me and to thy cousin before me.\" When I found\nmyself at the mercy of her women, with my cheeks stained with\ndust, and saw her sharpen the knife, I made sure of death and\ncried out to her for mercy. But she only redoubled in inhumanity\nand ordered the maids to bind my hands behind me, which they did,\nand throwing me on my back, sat down on my stomach and held my\nhead. Then two of them sat on my shins, whilst other two held my\nhands, and she bade a third pair beat me. So they beat me till I\nlost my senses and my voice failed. When I revived, I said to\nmyself, \"It were easier and better for me to have my throat cut\nthan to be beaten thus!\" And I remembered how my cousin used to\nsay to me, \"God keep thee from her mischief!\" and cried out and\nwept, till my voice failed and I remained without breath or\nmotion. Then she sharpened the knife and said to the girls,\n\"Uncover him.\" With this God inspired me to repeat to her the\ntwo words my cousin had bequeathed me, and I said, \"O my lady,\ndost thou not know that faith is fair and perfidy foul?\" When\nshe heard this, she cried out and said, \"God pity thee, Azizeh,\nand give thee Paradise in exchange for thy wasted youth! Verily,\nshe served thee in her lifetime and after her death, and now\nshe has saved thee alive out of my hands with these two words.\nNevertheless, I cannot leave thee thus, but I must e'en set my\nmark on thee, to spite yonder shameless baggage, who has kept\nthee from me.\" Then she called out to the damsels and bade them\nbind my feet with cords and sit on me. They did her bidding,\nwhilst I lay insensible, and she fetched a pan of copper and\nsetting it on a brazier, poured into it oil of sesame, in which\nshe fried cheese.[FN#139] Then she came up to me and unfastening\nmy trousers, tied a cord round my cullions and giving it to two\nof her women, bade them pull at it. They did so, and I swooned\naway and was for excess of pain in a world other than this. Then\nshe came with a steel scalpel and cut off my yard, so that I\nremained like a woman: after which she seared the wound with the\nboiling oil and rubbed it with a powder, and I the while\nunconscious. When I came to myself, the blood had ceased to flow;\nso she bade the damsels unbind me and gave me a cup of wine to\ndrink. Then said she to me, \"Go now to her whom thou hast married\nand who grudged me a single night, and the mercy of God be on thy\ncousin Azizeh, who discovered not her secret! Indeed she was the\ncause of thy preservation, for hadst thou not repeated those\nwords to me, I had surely slain thee. Rise and go to whom thou\nwilt, for thou hadst nothing of mine, save what I have cut off,\nand now I have no part in thee, nor have I any further care or\noccasion for thee: so begone about thy business and bless thy\ncousin's memory!\" With that, she gave me a push with her foot,\nand I rose, hardly able to walk, and went little by little, till\nI came to the door of my wife's house I found it open, so I threw\nmyself within it and fell down in a swoon; whereupon my wife came\nout and lifting me up, carried me into the saloon and found that\nI was like unto a woman. Then I fell into a deep sleep; but when\nI awoke, I found myself thrown down at the gate of the garden. I\nrose, groaning for pain and misery, and made my way to my\nmother's house, where I found her weeping for me and saying, \"O\nmy son, would I knew where thou art!\" So I drew near and threw\nmyself upon her, and when she saw me, she knew that I was ill,\nfor my face was at once pale and livid. Then I called to mind my\ncousin and all the kind offices she had been wont to do me and\nknew that she had indeed loved me; so I wept for her and my\nmother wept also. Presently, she said to me, \"O my son, thy\nfather is dead.\" At this my anguish redoubled, and I wept till I\nlost my senses. When I came to myself, I looked at the place\nwhere Azizeh had been used to sit and wept anew, till I all but\nfainted for excess of grief; and I ceased not to weep and lament\nthus till midnight, when my mother said to me, \"Thy father has\nbeen dead these ten days.\" \"I shall never think of any one but my\ncousin Azizeh,\" answered I; \"and indeed I deserve all that hath\nbefallen me, in that I abandoned her who loved me so dear.\" \"What\nhath befallen thee?\" asked my mother. So I told her all that had\nhappened, and she wept awhile, then rose and set meat and drink\nbefore me. I ate a little and drank, after which I repeated my\nstory to her, and she exclaimed, \"Praised be God that she did but\nthis to thee and forbore to slay thee!\" Then she tended me and\nmedicined me till I regained my health: and when my recovery was\ncomplete, she said to me, \"O my son, I will now bring out to thee\nthat which thy cousin committed to me in trust for thee; for it\nis thine. She made me swear not to give it thee, till I should\nsee thee recalling her to mind and weeping over her and thine\naffections severed from other than her; and now I see these\nconditions fulfilled in thee.\" So she arose and opening a chest,\ntook out the piece of linen, with the figures of gazelles worked\nthereon, which I had given Azizeh; and I opened it and found\nwritten therein the following verses:\n\nWho moved thee, fairest one, to use this rigour of disdain And\n     slay, with stress of love, the souls that sigh for thee in\n     vain?\nIf thou recall me not to mind beyond our parting-day, God knows\n     the thought of thee with me for ever shall remain!\nThou smitest me with cruel words, that yet are sweet to me: Wilt\n     thou one day, though but in dreams, to look upon me deign?\nI had not thought the ways of Love were languishment and woe And\n     stress of soul until, alas! to love thee I was fain.\nI knew not weariness till I the captive of thine eyes Became and\n     all my soul was bound in passion's fatal chain.\nEven my foes have ruth on me and pity my distress: But thou, O\n     heart of steel, wilt ne'er have mercy on my pain.\nBy God, although I die, I'll ne'er forget thee, O my hope, Nor\n     comfort take, though life itself for love should waste and\n     wane!\n\nWhen I read these verses, I wept sore and buffeted my face; then\nI unfolded the scroll, and there fell from it another. I opened\nit and found these words written therein: \"Know, O my cousin,\nthat I acquit thee of my blood and I beseech God to make accord\nbetween thee and her whom thou lovest: but if aught befall thee\nthrough the daughter of Delileh the crafty, return thou not to\nher neither resort to any other woman and bear thine affliction\npatiently, for were not the ordained term of thy life a long one,\nthou hadst perished long ago: but praised be God, who hath\nappointed my last day before thine! My peace be upon thee;\npreserve the cloth with the gazelles figured thereon and let it\nnot leave thee, for it used to keep me company, whenas thou wert\nabsent from me; but I conjure thee, by Allah, if thou chance to\nfall in with her who wrought these gazelles and it be in thy\npower to foregather with her, hold aloof from her and do not let\nher approach thee nor marry her; and if thou happen not on her\nand find no way to her, look thou company not with any other of\nher sex. Know that she who wrought these gazelles is the daughter\nof the King of the Camphor Islands and every year she works a\nlike cloth and despatches it to far countries, that her report\nand the beauty of her broidery, which none in the world can\nmatch, may be bruited abroad, As for thy beloved, the daughter of\nDelileh, this cloth came to her hand, and she used to ensnare\nfolk with it, showing it to them and saying, 'I have a sister who\nwrought this.' But she lied in this saying, may God bring her to\nshame! This, then, is my parting counsel to thee, and I have not\ncharged thee thus, but because I know that, after my death, the\nworld will be straitened on thee and belike, by reason of this,\nthou wilt leave thy native land and wander in foreign countries,\nand hearing of her who wrought these figures, be minded to\nforegather with her. Then wilt thou remember me and it shall not\navail thee nor wilt thou know my value till after my death.\"\n\nWhen I had read the scroll and understood what was written\ntherein, I fell again to weeping, and my mother wept because I\ndid; and I ceased not to gaze upon it and weep till nightfall. I\nabode thus a whole year, at the end of which time the merchants,\nwith whom I am in this caravan, prepared to set out from my\nnative town, and my mother counselled me to equip myself and\njourney with them, so haply I might find forgetfulness and my\nsorrow cease from me, saying, \"Take comfort and put away from\nthee this mourning and travel for a year or two or three, till\nthe caravan returns, when peradventure thy breast may be dilated\nand thy heart lightened.\" She ceased not to persuade me thus,\ntill I provided myself with merchandise and set out with the\ncaravan. But all the time of my journey, my tears have never\nceased flowing; and at every station where we halt, I open this\npiece of linen and look on these gazelles and call to mind my\ncousin Azizeh and weep for her as thou hast seen, for indeed she\nloved me very dearly and died, oppressed and rejected of me; I\ndid her nought but ill and she did me nought but good. When these\nmerchants return from their journey, I shall return with them, by\nwhich time I shall have been a whole year absent; yet is my\nsorrow greater than ever and my grief and affliction were but\nincreased by my visit to the Islands of Camphor and the Castle of\nCrystal. The islands in question are seven in number and are\nruled by a king, Shehriman by name, who hath a daughter called\nDunya; and I was told that it was she who wrought these gazelles\nand that this thou seest was of her broidery. When I knew this,\nyearning redoubled on me and I became a prey to consuming languor\nand drowned in the sea of melancholy thought; and I wept over\nmyself, for that I was become even as a woman, without manly gear\nlike other men, and that there was no recourse for me. From the\nday of my departure from the Camphor Islands, I have been\ntearful-eyed and sorrowful-hearted, and I know not whether it\nwill be given me to return to my native land and die by my mother\nor not, for I am weary of the world.'\n\nWhen the young merchant had made an end of telling his story, he\nwept and groaned and complained and gazed upon the figures\nwrought on the piece of linen, whilst the tears streamed down his\ncheeks and he repeated the following verses:\n\n'Needs must thy sorrow have an end,' quoth many an one 'and cease\n     And I, Needs must your chiding end and let me be at peace.'\n'After awhile,' say they; and I, 'Who will ensure me life, O\n     fools, until the hands of grief their grip of me release?'\n\nAnd also these:\n\nGod knows that, since my severance from thee, full sore I've\n     wept, So sore that needs my eyes must run for very tears in\n     debt!\n'Have patience,' quoth my censurers, 'and thou shalt win them\n     yet.' And I, 'O thou that blamest me, whence should I\n     patience get?'\n\nThen said he, 'This, O prince, is my story: hast thou ever heard\na stranger one?' Taj el Mulouk marvelled greatly at the young\nmerchant's tale and said to him, 'By Allah, thou hast suffered\nthat which never befell any but thyself, but thou hast life\nappointed to thee, which thou must needs fulfil; and now I would\nfain have thee tell me how thou sawest the lady who wrought these\ngazelles.' 'O my lord,' answered Aziz, 'I got me access to her by\na stratagem, and it was this. When I entered her city with the\ncaravan, I went forth and wandered about the gardens [till I came\nto one walled in and] abounding in trees, whose keeper was a\nvenerable old man of advanced age. I asked him to whom the garden\nbelonged, and he replied, \"To the lady Dunya, the king's\ndaughter. We are now beneath her palace,\" added he; \"and when she\nis minded to divert herself, she opens the private door and walks\nin the garden and breathes the fragrance of the flowers.\" So I\nsaid to him, \"Favour me by allowing me to sit in the garden till\nshe comes; haply I may be fortunate enough to catch a sight of\nher as she passes.\" \"There can be no harm in that,\" answered he.\nSo I gave him money and said to him, \"Buy us something to eat.\"\nHe took the money joyfully and opening the door, admitted me into\nthe garden and carried me to a pleasant spot, where he bade me\nsit down and await his return. Then he brought me fruit and\nleaving me, returned after awhile with a roasted lamb, of which\nwe ate till we had enough, my heart yearning the while for a\nsight of the princess. Presently, as we sat, the postern opened\nand the keeper said to me, \"Rise and hide thyself.\" I did so; and\nbehold a black eunuch put out his head through the wicket and\nsaid, \"O elder, is there any one with thee?\" \"No,\" answered he;\nand the eunuch said, \"Shut the garden gate.\" So the keeper shut\nthe gate, and the lady Dunya came in by the private door. When I\nsaw her, methought the moon had risen above the horizon and was\nshining; so I looked at her a long while and longed for her, as a\nman athirst longs for water. After a time she withdrew and shut\nthe door; whereupon I left the garden and sought my lodging,\nknowing that I could not win to her and that I was no mate for\nher, more by token that I was become like unto a woman, having no\nmanly gear, and she was a king's daughter and I but a merchant;\nso how could I have access to the like of her or to any other\nwoman? Accordingly, when my companions made ready for departure,\nI too made ready and set out with them, and we journeyed till we\narrived at this place, where we met with thee. This then is my\nstory, and peace be on thee!'\n\nWhen Taj el Mulouk heard the young merchant's account of the\nprincess Dunya and her beauty, fires raged in his bosom and his\nheart and thought were occupied with love for her; passion and\nlonging were sore upon him and he knew not what to do. Then he\nmounted his horse and taking Aziz with him, returned to his\nfather's capital, where he assigned the merchant a house and\nsupplied him with all that he needed in the way of meat and drink\nand clothing. Then he left him and returned to his palace, with\nthe tears running down his cheeks, for report [whiles] stands in\nstead of sight and very knowledge. He abode thus till his father\ncame in to him and finding him pale-faced, lean of body and\ntearful eyed, knew that some chagrin had betided him and said to\nhim, 'O my son, acquaint me with thy case and tell me what hath\nbefallen thee, that thy colour is changed and thy body wasted.'\nSo he told him all that had passed and how he had heard from\nAziz of the princess Dunya and had fallen in love with her on\nhearsay, without having set eyes on her. 'O my son,' said the\nKing, 'she is the daughter of a king whose country is far\ndistant from ours: so put away this thought from thee and go\ninto thy mother's palace. There are five hundred damsels like\nmoons, and whichsoever of them pleaseth thee, take her; or else\nwe will seek thee in marriage some one of the kings' daughters,\nfairer than the lady Dunya.' 'O my father,' answered Taj el\nMulouk, 'I desire none other, for she it is who wrought the\ngazelles that I saw, and I must have her; else I will flee into\nthe deserts and waste places and slay myself for her sake.' Then\nsaid his father, 'O my son, have patience with me, till I send\nto her father and demand her hand in marriage, as I did with thy\nmother. It may be that God will bring thee to thy desire; and if\nher father will not consent, I will shake his kingdom under him\nwith an army, whose van shall be upon him, whilst the rear is yet\nwith me.' Then he sent for Aziz and said to him, 'O my son, dost\nthou know the way to the Camphor Islands?' 'Yes,' answered he;\nand the King said, 'It is my wish that thou accompany my Vizier\nthither.' 'I hear and obey, O King of the age,' replied Aziz;\nwhereupon the King summoned his Vizier and said to him, 'Devise\nme some plan, whereby my son's affair may be rightly managed, and\ngo to the King of the Camphor Islands and demand his daughter in\nmarriage for Tej el Mulouk.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the\nVizier. Then Taj el Mulouk returned to his dwelling place and his\nlonging redoubled and impatience and unease were sore upon him;\nand when the night darkened upon him, he wept and sighed and\ncomplained and repeated the following verses:\n\nThe shadows darken and my tears flow aye without avail, Whilst in\n     my heart the fires of love rage on and never fail.\nQuestion the nights of me, and they will testify to thee That I\n     in all their endless hours do nought but weep and wait.\nWakeful for love-longing and grief, I lie and watch the stars All\n     night, what while upon my cheeks the tears fall down like\n     hail.\nLowly and helpless I abide, for such as lovers be Have, as it\n     were, nor kith nor kin to help them in their bale.\n\nThen he swooned away and did not recover his senses till the\nmorning, when there came to him one of his father's servants and\nstanding at his head, summoned him to the King's presence. So he\nwent with him, and his father seeing that his pallor had\nincreased, exhorted him to patience and promised him union with\nher he loved. Then he equipped Aziz and the Vizier for the\njourney and gave them presents for the princess's father; and\nthey set out and fared on night and day, till they drew near the\nCamphor Islands, when the Vizier called a halt on the banks of a\nstream and despatched a messenger to acquaint the King of his\narrival. The messenger had not long been gone, when they saw,\nadvancing towards them, the King's chamberlains and amirs, who\nmet them at a parasang's distance from the city and escorted them\nto the royal presence. They laid before the King the gifts with\nwhich they were charged and enjoyed his hospitality three days.\nOn the fourth day the Vizier rose and going in to the King, stood\nbefore him and acquainted him with the object of his visit;\nwhereat he was perplexed and knew not what answer to make him,\nfor that his daughter was averse from men and did not desire to\nmarry. So he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and calling\none of his eunuchs, said to him, 'Go to thy mistress, the\nprincess Dunya, and repeat to her what thou hast heard and tell\nher this Vizier's errand.' So the eunuch went out and returning\nafter a while, said to the King, 'O King of the age, when I went\nto the lady Dunya and told her what I had heard, she was\nexceeding wroth and made at me with a staff, meaning to break my\nhead; whereupon I fled from her, and she said to me, 'If my\nfather force me to marry, him whom I wed I will kill.' Then said\nthe King to the Vizier and Aziz, 'Salute the King your master and\ntell him what ye have heard and that my daughter is averse from\nmen and hath no mind to marry.' So they returned, without having\naccomplished the object of their journey, and fared on till they\nrejoined the King and told him what had passed; whereupon he\ncommanded the chief to summon the troops for war. But the Vizier\nsaid to him, 'O King, do not this, for the King is not at fault,\nseeing that, when his daughter learnt our business, she sent to\nsay that, if her father forced her to marry, she would kill her\nhusband and herself after him: so the refusal comes from her.'\nWhen the King heard this, he feared for Taj el Mulouk and said,\n'If I make war on the King of the Camphor Islands and carry off\nhis daughter, she will kill herself and it will profit me\nnothing.' So he told his son how the case stood, and he said, 'O\nmy father, I cannot live without her; so I will go to her and\ncast about to get me access to her, though I die in the attempt.'\n'How wilt thou go to her?' asked his father; and he answered, 'In\nthe disguise of a merchant.' Then said the King, 'If thou must go\nand there is no help for it, take with thee Aziz and the Vizier.'\nHe agreed to this, and the King took money from his treasuries\nand made ready for him merchandise, to the value of a hundred\nthousand dinars; and when the night came Taj el Mulouk went to\nAziz's lodging and passed the night there, heart-smitten and\ntaking no delight in food nor sleep; for melancholy was heavy\nupon him and he was agitated with longing for his beloved. So he\nbesought the Creator to unite him with her and wept and groaned\nand complained, repeating the following verses:\n\nShall union after estrangement betide us, perchance, some day?\n     Shall I ever make moan of my passion to thee, I wonder, and\n     say,\n'How oft have I called thee to mind, whilst the night in its\n     trances slept! Thou hast made me waken, whilst all but I in\n     oblivion lay.\n\nThen he wept sore and Aziz wept with him, for that he remembered\nhis cousin; and they both ceased not to do thus till the morning,\nwhen Taj el Mulouk rose and went in to his mother in his\ntravelling dress. She asked him of his case, and he told her what\nwas to do; so she gave him fifty thousand dinars and bade him\nfarewell, offering up prayers for his safety and for his union\nwith his beloved. Then he left her and betaking himself to his\nfather, asked his leave to depart. The King granted him leave and\npresenting him with other fifty thousand dinars, let pitch a tent\nfor him without the city, in which they abode two days, then set\nout on their journey. And Taj el Mulouk delighted in Aziz's\ncompany and said to him, 'O my brother, I can never bear to be\nparted from thee.' 'Nor I from thee,' replied Aziz; 'and fain\nwould I die at thy feet: but, O my brother, my heart is concerned\nfor my mother.' 'When we have attained our wish,' said the\nprince, 'all will be well.' As for the Vizier, he exhorted Taj el\nMulouk to patience, whilst Aziz entertained him with talk and\nrecited verses to him and diverted him with stories and\nanecdotes; and so they fared on day and night for two whole\nmonths, till the way became tedious to the prince and the fires\nof passion redoubled on him. So he repeated the following verses:\n\nLong is the road and restlessness and grief redouble aye, Whilst\n     in my breast the fires of love rage ever night and day\nO thou, the goal of all my hopes, sole object of my wish, I swear\n     by Him, the Most High God, who moulded man from clay,\nFor love of thee I bear a load of longing and desire, Such as the\n     mountains of Es Shumm might ne'er withal away!\nIndeed, O lady of my world,[FN#140] love slayeth me outright; No\n     breath of life in me is left, my fainting spright to stay\nBut for the hope of union with thee, that lures me on, My weary\n     body had no strength to furnish forth the way.\n\nWhen he had finished, he wept and Aziz wept with him, from a\nlacerated heart, till the Vizier was moved to pity by their\nweeping and said to the prince, 'O my lord, take courage and be\nof good cheer; all will yet be well.' 'O Vizier,' said Taj el\nMulouk, 'indeed I am weary of the length of the way. Tell me how\nfar we are distant yet from the city.' 'But a little way,'\nreplied Aziz. Then they continued their journey, traversing\nvalleys and plains and hills and stony wastes, till one night, as\nTaj el Mulouk was asleep, he dreamt that his beloved was with him\nand that he embraced her and pressed her to his bosom; and he\nawoke, trembling and delirious with emotion, and repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nMy heart is maddened for love and my tears for ever flow, And\n     longing is ever upon me and unrelenting woe.\nMy plaint is, for tears, as the mourning of women bereft of\n     young, And I moan, when the darkness gathers, as the\n     turtles, sad and low.\nYet, if the breezes flutter from the land where thou dost dwell,\n     Their wafts o'er the earth, sun-weaned, a grateful coolness\n     throw.\nPeace be on thee, my beloved, as long as the cushat flies, As\n     long as the turtles warble, as long as the zephyrs blow!\n\nWhen he had finished, the Vizier came to him and said, 'Rejoice;\nthis is a good sign: so comfort thyself and be of good cheer, for\nthou shalt surely compass thy desire.' And Aziz also came to him\nand exhorted him to patience and applied himself to divert him,\ntalking with him and telling him stories. So they pressed on,\nnight and day, other two months, till, one day, at sunrise, there\nappeared to them some white thing in the distance and Taj el\nMulouk said to Aziz, 'What is yonder whiteness?' 'O my lord,'\nanswered he, 'that is the Fortress of Crystal and the city that\nthou seekest.' At this the prince rejoiced, and they fared\nforward till they drew near the city, to the exceeding joy of Taj\nel Mulouk, whose grief and anxiety ceased from him. They entered,\nin the guise of merchants, the King's son being habited as a\nmerchant of importance, and repaired to a great khan, known as\nthe Merchants' Lodging. Quoth Taj el Mulouk to Aziz, 'Is this the\nresort of the merchants?' 'Yes,' replied he; 'it is the khan in\nwhich I lodged when I was here before.' So they alighted there\nand making their beasts kneel down, unloaded them and laid up\ntheir goods in the warehouses. They abode four days, resting; at\nthe end of which time, the Vizier proposed that they should hire\na large house. To this they assented and hired a spacious house,\nfitted up for festivities, where they took up their abode, and\nthe Vizier and Aziz studied to devise some plan of conduct\nfor Taj el Mulouk, whilst the latter remained in a state of\nperplexity, knowing not what to do. The Vizier could think\nof nothing but that he should set up as a merchant in the\nstuff-market; so he turned to the prince and Aziz and said to\nthem, 'If we tarry thus, we shall not compass our desire nor\nattain our aim; but I have bethought me of somewhat, in which, if\nit please God, we shall find our advantage.' 'Do what seemeth\ngood to thee,' replied Taj el Mulouk; 'indeed there is a blessing\non the aged, more by token that thou art versed in the conduct\nof affairs: so tell me what is in thy mind.' 'It is my counsel,'\nrejoined the Vizier, 'that we hire thee a shop in the stuff-bazaar,\nwhere thou mayst sit to sell and buy. Every one, great\nand small, hath need of silken and other stuffs; so if thou be\npatient and abide in thy shop, thine affairs will prosper, if\nit please God, especially as thou art comely of aspect. Moreover,\nI would have thee make Aziz thy factor and set him within the\nshop, to hand thee the pieces of stuffs and silks.' When Taj el\nMulouk heard this, he said, 'This is a good counsel.' So he took\nout a handsome suit of merchant's clothes, and putting it on, set\nout for the bazaar, followed by his servants, to one of whom he\nhad given a thousand dinars, wherewith to fit up the shop. When\nthey came to the stuff-market and the merchants saw Taj el\nMulouk's beauty and grace, they were confounded and some said,\n'Sure Rizwan hath opened the gates of Paradise and left them\nunguarded, so that this passing lovely youth hath come out.' And\nothers, 'Belike this is one of the angels.' They asked for the\nshop of the overseer of the market, and the merchants directed\nthem to it. So they repaired thither and saluted him, and he and\nthose who were with him rose to them and seated them and made\nmuch of them because of the Vizier, whom they saw to be a man of\nage and reverend aspect; and seeing Aziz and Taj el Mulouk in his\ncompany, they said to one another, 'Doubtless  this old man is\nthe father of these two youths.' Then said the Vizier, 'Which of\nyou is the overseer of the market?' 'This is he,' answered they;\nwhereupon he came forward and the Vizier, observing him, saw him\nto be an old man of grave and dignified carriage, with slaves and\nservants, white and black. He greeted them in the friendliest\nmanner and was lavish in his attentions to them: then he made\nthem sit by his side and said to them, 'Have you any business\nwhich we may have the pleasure of transacting?' 'Yes,' answered\nthe Vizier. 'I am an old man, stricken in years, and have with\nme these two youths, with whom I have travelled through many\ntowns and countries, tarrying a whole year in every city (of\nimportance) on our way, that they might take their pleasure in\nviewing it and come to know its people. Now I have chosen to make\na stay in this your town; so I would fain have thee allot me a\nhandsome shop in the best situation, wherein I may establish\nthem, that they may traffic and learn to buy and sell and give\nand take, whilst they divert themselves with the sight of the\nplace and acquire the uses of its people.' 'Good,' said the\noverseer, and looking at the two youths, rejoiced in them and\nconceived a great affection for them. Now he was a great lover of\nbewitching glances, preferring the commerce of boys to that of\ngirls and inclining to their love. So he said in himself, 'These\nbe fine purchase; glory to Him who created and fashioned them out\nof vile water!'[FN#141] and rising, stood before them like a\nservant, to do them honour. Then he went out and made ready for\nthem a shop in the midst of the market, than which there was no\nlarger nor better in the bazaar, for it was spacious and\nhandsomely decorated and fitted with shelves of ebony and ivory;\nafter which he delivered the keys to the Vizier, who was dressed\nas an old merchant, saying, 'Take them, O my lord, and may God\nmake it a blessed abiding-place to thy sons!' The Vizier took the\nkeys, and they returned to the khan and caused their servants to\ntransport to the shop all their goods and stuffs and valuables,\nof which they had great plenty, worth treasures of money. Next\nmorning, the Vizier carried the two young men to the bath, where\nthey washed and put on rich clothes and perfumed themselves to\nthe utmost therein. Now each of them was passing fair to look\nupon, and the bath enhanced their charms to the utmost, even as\nsays the poet:\n\nGood luck to him who in the bath doth serve him as his squire,\n     Handling a body 'gotten sure 'twixt water and the fire!\nWith skilful hands he showeth forth the marvels of his craft, In\n     that he gathers very musk[FN#142] from what is like\n     camphire.\n\nWhen the overseer heard that they had gone to the bath, he sat\ndown to await them, and presently they came up to him, like two\ngazelles, with red cheeks and black eyes and shining faces, as\nthey were two lustrous moons or two fruit-laden saplings. When he\nsaw them, he rose and said to them, 'May your bath profit you\never!' Whereupon Taj el Mulouk replied, with the sweetest of\nspeech, 'May God be bountiful to thee, O my father! Why didst\nthou not come with us and bathe in our company?' Then they both\nbent over his hands and kissing them, walked before him to the\nshop, to do him honour and show their respect for him, for that\nhe was chief of the merchants and the market, as well as their\nsense of his kindness in giving them the shop. When he saw their\nhips quivering, emotion and longing redoubled on him and he could\nnot contain himself, but puffed and snorted and devoured them\nwith his eyes, repeating the following verses:\n\nThe heart in them studies the chapter of worship unshared sheer\n     No proofs of more gods to worship than one it readeth here.\nNo wonder it is they tremble by reason of their weight; How much\n     is there not of motion in that revolving sphere!\n\nAnd also these:\n\nTwo fair ones walking on the earth mine eyes did late espy; Two\n     that I needs must love although they walked upon mine eye.\n\nWhen they heard this, they begged him to enter the bath with them\na second time. He could hardly believe his ears and hastening\nthither, went in with them. The Vizier had not yet left the bath;\nso when he heard of the overseer's coming, he came out and\nmeeting him in the outer room of the bath, invited him to enter.\nHe refused, but Taj el Mulouk took him by one hand and Aziz by\nthe other and carried him into a cabinet, the impure old man\nsubmitting to them, whilst his emotion increased on him. Then Taj\nel Mulouk swore that none but he should wash him and Aziz that\nnone but he should pour water on him. He would have refused,\nalbeit this was what he desired; but the Vizier said to him,\n'They are thy sons; let them wash thee and bathe thee.' 'God\npreserve them to thee!' exclaimed the overseer. 'By Allah, thy\ncoming and theirs hath brought blessing and fortune upon our\ncity!' and he repeated the following verses:\n\nThou cam'st, and the mountains about us grew green And glittered,\n     with flowers for the bridegroom beseen;\nWhilst earth and her creatures cried, 'Welcome to thee, Thrice\n     welcome, that comest in glory and sheen!'\n\nThey thanked him for this, and Taj el Mulouk proceeded to wash\nhim, whilst Aziz poured water over him and he thought himself in\nParadise. When they had made an end of his service, he called\ndown blessings on them and sat talking with the Vizier, gazing\nthe while on the youths. Presently, the servants brought them\ntowels, and they dried themselves and donned their clothes. Then\nthey went out, and the Vizier said to the overseer, 'O my lord,\nverily the bath is the Paradise of this world.' 'May God\nvouchsafe it[FN#143] to thee,' replied the overseer, 'and health\nto thy sons and guard them from the evil eye! Do you remember\naught that the poets have said in praise of the bath?' 'Yes,'\nsaid Taj el Mulouk and repeated the following verses:\n\nThe life of the bath is the pleasantest part of life, Except that\n     the time of our sojourn there is slight.\nA heaven, wherein 'tis irksome to us to bide: A hell, into which\n     we enter with delight.\n\n'And I also,' said Aziz, 'remember some verses in praise of the\nbath.' Quoth the overseer, 'Let us hear them.' So he repeated the\nfollowing:\n\nI know a house, wherein flowers from the sheer stone blow; Most\n     goodly, when the flames about it rage and glow.\nThou deem'st it hell, and yet, in truth, 'tis Paradise And most\n     that be therein are sun and moons, I trow.\n\nHis verses pleased the overseer and he wondered at their grace\nand eloquence and said, 'By Allah, ye possess both beauty and\neloquence! But now listen to me.' And he chanted the following\nverses:\n\nO pleasaunce of hell-fire and paradise of pain! Bodies and souls\n     therein indeed are born again.\nI marvel at a house, whose pleasantness for aye Doth flourish,\n     though the flames beneath it rage amain.\nA sojourn of delight to those who visit it It is; the pools on\n     them their tears in torrents rain.\n\nThen he fed his eyes on the gardens of their beauty and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nI went to the bath-keeper's house and entered his dwelling-place\n     And found no door-keeper there but met me with smiling face.\nI sojourned awhile in his heaven[FN#144] and visited eke his\n     hell[FN#145] And thanked both Malik[FN#146] and\n     Rizwan[FN#147] for solace and kindly grace.\n\nThey were charmed with these verses, and the overseer invited\nthem to his house; but they declined and resumed to their own\nlodging, to rest from the great heat of the bath. They took their\nease there and ate and drank and passed the night in the greatest\ncomfort and delight, till morning, when they arose from sleep and\nmaking their ablutions, prayed the morning-prayer and  drank the\nmorning-draught. As soon as the sun had risen and the markets and\nshops were open, they went out to the bazaar and opened their\nshop, which their servants had already furnished, after the\nhandsomest fashion, with prayer-rugs and silken carpets and a\npair of divans, each worth a hundred dinars. On each divan they\nhad spread a rug, garded with gold and fit for a king, and in the\nmidst of the shop stood a third seat of still greater elegance,\neven as the case required. Taj el Mulouk sat down on one couch\nand Aziz on another, whilst the Vizier seated himself on that in\nthe centre, and the servants stood before them. The people of the\ncity heard of them and crowded to them, so that they sold some of\ntheir goods and the report of Taj el Mulouk's beauty and grace\nspread throughout the place. Some days passed thus, and every day\nthe people flocked to them more and more, till the Vizier, after\nexhorting the prince to keep his secret, commended him to Aziz's\ncare and went home, that he might be alone and cast about for\nsome device that might profit them.\n\nMeanwhile, the two young men sat talking and the prince said to\nAziz, 'It may be some one will come from the Princess Dunya.' So\nhe abode in expectation of this days and nights, whilst his heart\nwas troubled and he knew neither sleep nor rest: for desire had\ngotten the mastery of him and passion and longing were sore upon\nhim, so that he forewent the solace of sleep and abstained from\nmeat and drink; yet ceased he not to be like the full moon. One\nday, as he sat in the shop, there came up an old woman, followed\nby two slave-girls. She stopped before Taj el Mulouk and\nobserving his grace and elegance and symmetry, marvelled at his\nbeauty and sweated in her clothes, exclaiming, 'Glory to Him who\ncreated thee out of vile water and made thee a ravishment to all\nwho look upon thee!' And she fixed her eyes on him and said,\n'This is sure no mortal, but a noble angel.' Then she drew near\nand saluted him, whereupon he returned her salute and (being\nprompted thereto by Aziz) rose to his feet to receive her and\nsmiled in her face after which he made her sit down by his side\nand fanned her, till she was rested and refreshed, when she\nturned to him and said, 'O my son, O thou that art perfect in\ngraces and charms, art thou of this country?' 'By Allah, O my\nlady,' answered he in the sweetest and pleasantest of voices, 'I\nwas never in this country in my life till now, nor do I sojourn\nhere save for my diversion.' 'May all honour and prosperity\nattend thee!' rejoined she. 'What stuffs has thou brought with\nthee? Show me something handsome; for the fair should bring\nnothing but what is fair.' When he heard her words, his heart\nfluttered and he knew not what she meant; but Aziz made a sign to\nhim, and he replied, 'I have everything thou canst desire, and\namongst the rest goods that befit none but kings and kings'\ndaughters; so tell me for whom thou seekest the stuff, that I may\nshow thee what will befit her.' This he said, that he might learn\nthe meaning of her words; and she rejoined, 'I want a stuff fit\nfor the Princess Dunya, daughter of King Shehriman.' When the\nprince heard the name of his beloved, he rejoiced greatly and\nsaid to Aziz, 'Give me such a bale.' So Aziz brought it and\nopened it before Taj el Mulouk, who said to the old woman,\n'Choose what will suit her; for these are goods only to be found\nwith me.' So she chose goods worth a thousand dinars and said,\n'How much is this?' And ceased not the while to talk with him and\nrub the inside of her thighs with the palm of her hand. 'Shall I\nhaggle with the like of thee about this paltry price?' answered\nhe. 'Praised be God who hath brought me acquainted with thee!'\n'The name of God be upon thee!' exclaimed she. 'I commend thy\nfair face to the protection of the Lord of the Daybreak! Fair\nface and pleasant speech! Happy the woman who lies in thy bosom\nand clasps thy waist in her arms and enjoys thy youth, especially\nif she be fair and graceful like unto thee!' At this, Taj el\nMulouk laughed till he fell backward and said (in himself), 'O\nThou who fulfillest desires by means of dissolute old women! They\nare indeed the accomplishers of desires!' Then said she, 'O my\nson, what is thy name?' And he answered, 'My name is Taj el\nMulouk.'[FN#148] 'This is a name of kings and kings' sons,'\nrejoined she; 'and thou art clad in a merchant's habit.' Quoth\nAziz, 'For the love his parents and family bore him and the value\nthey set on him, they named him thus.' 'Thou sayst sooth,'\nreplied the old woman. 'May God guard you both from the evil eye\nand the malice of the enemy and the envious, though hearts be\nbroken by your charms!' Then she took the stuff and went away,\namazed at the prince's beauty and grace and symmetry, and going\nin to the Princess Dunya, said to her, 'O my lady, I have brought\nthee some handsome stuff.' 'Show it me,' said the princess. 'Here\nit is,' answered the old woman; 'turn it over, O my treasure, and\nexamine it.' So the princess looked at the stuff and was amazed\nat its beauty and said, 'O my nurse, this is indeed handsome\nstuff! I have never seen its like in our city.' 'O my lady,'\nreplied the nurse, 'he who sold it me is handsomer still. It\nwould seem as if Rizwan had left the gates of Paradise open and\nthis youth had come out. I would he might sleep this night with\nthee and lie between thy breasts! He hath come hither with these\nstuffs for amusement's sake, and he is a ravishment to all who\nset eyes on him.' The princess laughed at her words and said,\n'Allah afflict thee, O pernicious old woman! Thou dotest and\nthere is no sense left in thee. Give me the stuff, that I may\nlook at it anew.' So she gave it her, and she examined it again\nand seeing that though small, it was of great value, was moved to\nadmiration, for she had never in her life seen its like, and\nexclaimed, 'By Allah, this is a handsome stuff.' 'O my lady,'\nsaid the old woman, 'if thou sawest him who sold it to me, thou\nwouldst know him for the handsomest of all that be upon the face\nof the earth.' Quoth the princess, 'Didst thou ask him if he had\nany need, that we might satisfy it?' The nurse shook her head and\nanswered, 'God keep thy sagacity! Assuredly he has a want, may\nthy skill not fail thee. What man is free from wants?' 'Go back\nto him,' rejoined the princess; 'salute him for me, and say to\nhim, \"Our land and town are honoured by thy visit, and if thou\nhast any need, we will fulfil it to thee, on our head and eyes.\"'\nSo the old woman returned to Taj el Mulouk, and when he saw her,\nhis heart leapt for joy and he rose to his feet and taking her\nhand, seated her by his side. As soon as she was rested she told\nhim what the princess had said, whereat he rejoiced exceedingly;\nhis breast dilated and gladness entered his heart, and he said in\nhimself, 'Verily, I have gotten my desire.' Then said he to the\nold woman, 'Belike thou wilt take her a message from me and bring\nme her answer.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she. So he said to\nAziz, 'Bring me inkhorn and paper and a pen of brass.' Aziz\nbrought him what he sought, and he took the pen and wrote the\nfollowing verses:   I send thee, O my hope, a letter, to complain\nOf all my soul endures for parting and its pain.\n\nSix lines it hath; the first, 'A fire is in my heart;' The next\n     line setteth forth my passion all in vain;\nThe third, 'My patience fails and eke my life doth waste;' The\n     fourth, 'All love with me for ever shall remain.'\nThe fifth, 'When shall mine eyes behold thee? And the sixth,\n     'When shall the day betide of meeting for us twain?\n\nAnd by way of subscription he wrote these words, 'This letter is\nfrom the captive of desire, prisoned in the hold of longing, from\nwhich there is no deliverance but in union and intercourse with\nher whom he loveth, after absence and separation: for he\nsuffereth grievous torment by reason of his severance from his\nbeloved.' Then his tears rushed out and he wrote the following\nverses:\n\nI write to thee, my love, and the tears run down as I write; For\n     the tears of my eyes, alack I cease never day or night.\nYet do I not despair; mayhap, of God His grace, The day shall\n     dawn for us of union and delight.\n\nThen he folded the letter and sealed it and gave it to the old\nwoman, saying, 'Carry it to the lady Dunya.' 'I hear and obey,'\nanswered she; whereupon he gave her a thousand dinars and said to\nher, 'O my mother, accept this, as a token of my affection.' She\ntook the letter and the money, calling down blessings on him, and\nreturned to the princess. When the latter saw her, she said to\nher, 'O my nurse, what is it he asks, that we may fulfil his wish\nto him?' 'O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'he sends thee this\nletter by me, and I know not what is in it.' The princess took\nthe letter and reading it, exclaimed, 'Who and what is this\nmerchant that he should dare to write to me thus?' And she\nbuffeted her face, saying, 'What have we done that we should come\nin converse with shopkeepers? Alas! Alas! By Allah, but that I\nfear God the Most High, I would put him to death and crucify him\nbefore his shop!' 'What is in the letter,' asked the old woman,\n'to trouble thy heart and move thine anger thus? Doth it contain\na complaint of oppression or demand for the price of the stuff?'\n'Out on thee!' answered the princess. 'There is none of this in\nit, nought but words of love and gallantry. This is all through\nthee: else how should this devil know me?' 'O my lady,' rejoined\nthe old woman, 'thou sittest in thy high palace and none may win\nto thee, no, not even the birds of the air. God keep thee and\nkeep thy youth from blame and reproach! Thou art a princess, the\ndaughter of a king, and needest not reck of the barking of dogs.\nBlame me not that I brought thee this letter, knowing not what\nwas in it; but it is my counsel that thou send him an answer,\nthreatening him with death and forbidding him from this idle\ntalk. Surely he will abstain and return not to the like of this.'\n'I fear,' said the princess, 'that, if I write to him, he will\nconceive hopes of me.' Quoth the old woman, 'When he reads thy\nthreats and menace of punishment, he will desist.' So the\nprincess called for inkhorn and paper and pen of brass and wrote\nthe following verses:\n\nO thou who feignest thee the prey of love and wakefulness And\n     plainst of that thou dost endure for passion and distress\nThinkst thou, deluded one, to win thy wishes of the moon? Did\n     ever any of a moon get union and liesse?\nI rede thee put away the thought of this thou seekst from thee,\n     For that therein but peril is for thee and weariness.\nIf thou to this thy speech return, a grievous punishment Shall\n     surely fall on thee from me and ruin past redress.\nBy Him, the Almighty God, I swear, who moulded man from clay, Him\n     who gave fire unto the sun and lit the moon no less\nIf thou offend anew, for sure, upon a cross of tree I'll have\n     thee crucified for all thy wealth and goodliness!\n\nThen she folded the letter and giving it to the old woman, said,\n'Carry this to him and bid him desist from this talk.' 'I hear\nand obey,' replied she, and taking the letter, returned,\nrejoicing, to her own house, where she passed the night and in\nthe morning betook herself to the shop of Taj el Mulouk, whom she\nfound expecting her. At sight of her, he well-nigh lost his\nreason for delight, and when she came up to him, he rose to his\nfeet and seated her by his side. Then she brought out the letter\nand gave it to him, saying, 'Read this. When the princess read\nthy letter, she was angry; but I coaxed her and jested with her\ntill I made her laugh, and she had pity on thee and has returned\nthee an answer.' He thanked her and bade Aziz give her a thousand\ndinars: then he read her letter and fell to weeping sore, so that\nthe old woman's heart was moved to pity for him and his tears and\ncomplaints grieved her. So she said to him, 'O my son, what is\nthere in this scroll, that makes thee weep?' 'She threatens me\nwith death and crucifixion,' replied he, 'and forbids me to write\nto her: but if I write not, my death were better than my life. So\ntake thou my answer to her letter and let her do what she will.'\n'By the life of thy youth,' rejoined the old woman, 'needs must I\nventure my life for thee, that I may bring thee to thy desire and\nhelp thee to win that thou hast at heart!' And he said, 'Whatever\nthou dost, I will requite thee therefor, and do thou determine of\nit; for thou art versed in affairs and skilled in all fashions of\nintrigue: difficult matters are easy to thee: and God can do all\nthings.' Then he took a scroll and wrote therein the following\nverses:\n\nMy love with slaughter threatens me, woe's me for my distress!\n     But death is foreordained; to me, indeed, 'twere happiness;\nBetter death end a lover's woes than that a weary life He live,\n     rejected and forlorn, forbidden from liesse.\nVisit a lover, for God's sake, whose every helper fails, And with\n     thy sight thy captive slave and bondman deign to bless!\nHave ruth upon me, lady mine, for loving thee; for all, Who love\n     the noble, stand excused for very passion's stress.\n\nThen he sighed heavily and wept, till the old woman wept also and\ntaking the letter, said to him, 'Take heart and be of good cheer,\nfor it shall go hard but I bring thee to thy desire.' Then she\nrose and leaving him on coals of fire, returned to the princess,\nwhom she found still pale with rage at Taj el Mulouk's first\nletter. The nurse gave her his second letter, whereupon her anger\nredoubled and she said, 'Did I not say he would conceive hopes of\nus?' 'What is this dog,' replied the old woman, 'that he should\nconceive hopes of thee?' Quoth the princess, 'Go back to him and\ntell him that, if he write to me again, I will have his head cut\noff.' 'Write this in a letter,' answered the nurse, 'and I will\ntake it to him, that his fear may be the greater.' So she took a\nscroll and wrote thereon the following verses:\n\nHarkye thou that letst the lessons of the past unheeded lie, Thou\n     that lookst aloft, yet lackest power to win thy goal on\n     high,\nThinkest thou to reach Es Suha,[FN#149] O deluded one, although\n     Even the moon's too far to come at, shining in the middle\n     sky?\nHow then dar'st thou hope my favours and aspire to twinned\n     delight And my spear-straight shape and slender in thine\n     arms to girdle sigh?\nLeave this purpose, lest mine anger fall on thee some day of\n     wrath, Such as e'en the parting-places shall with white for\n     terror dye.\n\nThen she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took\nit and returned to Taj el Mulouk. When he saw her, he rose to his\nfeet and exclaimed, 'May God not bereave me of the blessing of\nthy coming!' Quoth she, 'Take the answer to thy letter.' He took\nit and reading it, wept sore and said, 'Would some one would slay\nme now, for indeed death were easier to me than this my state!'\nThen he took pen and inkhorn and paper and wrote the following\nverses:\n\nO my hope, have done with rigour; lay disdain and anger by, Visit\n     one who, drowned in passion, doth for love and longing sigh.\nThink not, under thine estrangement, that my life I will endure.\n     Lo, my soul, for very severance from thy sight, is like to\n     die.\n\nThen he folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, saying,\n'Grudge it not to me, though I have wearied thee to no purpose.'\nAnd he bade Aziz give her other thousand dinars, saying, 'O my\nmother, needs must this letter result in perfect union or\ncomplete separation.' 'O my son,' replied she, 'by Allah, I\ndesire nought but thy weal; and it is my wish that she be thine,\nfor indeed thou art the resplendent moon and she the rising sun.\nIf I do not bring you together, there is no profit in my life:\nthese ninety years have I lived in the practice of wile and\nintrigue; so how should I fail to unite two lovers, though in\ndefiance of law?' Then she took leave of him, after comforting\nhis heart, and returned to the palace. Now she had hidden the\nletter in her hair: so she sat down by the princess and rubbing\nher head, said, 'O my lady, maybe thou wilt comb out my hair: for\nit is long since I went to the bath.' The princess bared her arms\nto the elbow and letting down the old woman's hair, began to comb\nit, when out dropped the letter and Dunya seeing it, asked what\nit was. Quoth the nurse, 'This paper must have stuck to me, as I\nsat in the merchant's shop: give it me, that I may return it to\nhim; belike it contains some reckoning of which he hath need.'\nBut the princess opened it, and reading it, cried out, 'This is\none of thy tricks, and hadst thou not reared me, I would lay\nviolent hands on thee forthright! Verily God hath afflicted me\nwith this merchant: but all that hath befallen me with him is of\nthy contrivance. I know not whence this fellow can have come:\nnone but he would venture to affront me thus, and I fear lest\nthis my case get wind, the more that it concerns one who is\nneither of my rank nor of my peers.' 'None would dare speak of\nthis,' rejoined the old woman, 'for fear of thine anger and awe\nof thy father; so there can be no harm in sending him an answer.'\n'O my nurse,' said the princess, 'verily this fellow is a devil.\nHow can he dare to use such language to me and not dread the\nSultan's wrath? Indeed, I am perplexed about his case: if I order\nhim to be put to death, it were unjust; and if I leave him, his\npresumption will increase.' 'Write him a letter,' rejoined the\nold woman; 'it may be he will desist.' So she called for pen and\nink and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\nAgain and again I chide thee, yet folly ever again Lures thee:\n     how long, with my writing, in verse shall I bid thee\n     refrain,\nWhilst thou but growest in boldness for all forbidding? But I No\n     grace save to keep thy secret, unto thy prayers may deign.\nConceal thy passion nor ever reveal it; for, an thou speak, I\n     will surely show thee no mercy nor yet my wrath contain.\nIf to thy foolish daring thou turn thee anew, for sure, The raven\n     of evil omen shall croak for thee death and bane;\nAnd slaughter shall come upon thee ere long, and under the earth\n     To seek for a place of abiding, God wot, thou shalt be fain.\nThy people, O self-deluder, thou'lt leave in mourning for thee;\n     Ay, all their lives they shall sorrow for thee, fordone and\n     slain.\n\nThen she folded the letter and committed it to the old woman, who\ntook it and returning to Taj el Mulouk, gave it to him. When he\nread it, he knew that the princess was hard-hearted and that he\nshould not win to her; so he complained to the Vizier and\nbesought his advice. Quoth he, 'Nothing will profit thee save\nthat thou write to her and invoke the wrath of God upon her.' And\nhe said to Aziz, 'O my brother, do thou write to her in my name,\naccording to thy knowledge.' So Aziz took a scroll and wrote the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO Lord, by the Five Elders, deliver me, I pray, And her, for whom\n     I suffer, in like affliction lay!\nThou knowest that I weary in raging flames of love; Whilst she I\n     love is cruel and saith me ever nay.\nHow long shall I be tender to her, despite my pain? How long\n     shall she ride roughshod o'er my weakness night and day?\nIn agonies I wander of never-ceasing death And find nor friend\n     nor helper, O Lord, to be my stay.\nFull fain would I forget her; but how can I forget, When for\n     desire my patience is wasted all away?\nThou that forbidst my passion the sweets of happy love, Art thou\n     then safe from fortune, that shifts and changes aye?\nArt thou not glad and easeful and blest with happy life, Whilst\n     I, for thee, an exile from folk and country stray?\n\nThen he folded the letter and gave it to Taj el Mulouk, who read\nthe verses and was pleased with them. So he handed the letter to\nthe old woman, who took it and carried it to the princess. When\nshe read it, she was greatly enraged and said, 'All that has\nbefallen me comes from this pernicious old woman!' Then she cried\nout to the damsels and eunuchs, saying, 'Seize this accursed old\ntrickstress and beat her with your slippers!' So they beat her\ntill she swooned away; and when she revived, the princess said to\nher, 'By Allah, O wicked old woman, did I not fear God the Most\nHigh, I would kill thee!' Then she bade them beat her again, and\nthey did so, till she fainted a second time, whereupon the\nprincess ordered them to drag her forth and throw her without the\npalace. So they dragged her along on her face and threw her down\nbefore the gate. When she came to herself, she rose and made the\nbest of her way home, walking and resting by turns. She passed\nthe night in her own house and in the morning, she went to Taj el\nMulouk and told him what had passed, at which he was distressed\nand said, 'O my mother, this that has befallen thee is grievous\nto us; but all things are according to fate and destiny.' 'Take\ncomfort and be of good cheer,' replied she; 'for I will not give\nover striving, till I have brought thee and her together and made\nthee to enjoy the vile baggage who hath tortured me with\nbeating.' Quoth the prince, 'Tell me the reason of her aversion\nto men.' 'It arose from what she saw in a dream,' answered the\nold woman. 'And what was this dream?' asked the prince. 'One\nnight,' replied she, 'as she lay asleep, she saw a fowler spread\nhis net upon the ground and scatter grain round it. Then he sat\ndown hard by, and all the birds in the neighbourhood flocked to\nthe net. Amongst the rest she saw a pair of pigeons, male and\nfemale; and whilst she was watching the net, the male bird's foot\ncaught in it and he began to struggle, whereupon all the other\nbirds took fright and flew away. But presently his mate came back\nand hovered over him, then alighted on the net, unobserved by the\nfowler, and fell to picking and pulling at the mesh in which the\nmale bird's foot was entangled with her beak, till she released\nhim and they flew away together. Then the fowler came up and\nmended his net and seated himself afar off. After awhile, the\nbirds came back and the female pigeon was caught in the net,\nwhereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away; and the\nmale pigeon flew away with the rest and did not return to his\nmate. Then came the fowler and took the female pigeon and killed\nher. So the princess awoke, troubled by her dream, and said, \"All\nmales are worthless, like this pigeon: and men in general are\nwanting in goodness to women.\"' When the old woman had made an\nend of her story, the prince said to her, 'O my mother, I desire\nto have one look at her, though it be my death; so do thou\ncontrive me some means of seeing her.' 'Know then,' answered she,\n'that she hath under her palace windows a pleasure-garden, to\nwhich she resorts once in every month by the private door. In ten\ndays, the time of her thus going forth will arrive; so when she\nis about to visit the garden, I will come and tell thee, that\nthou mayst go thither and meet her. And look thou quit not the\ngarden, for haply, if she sees thy beauty and grace, her heart\nwill be taken with love of thee, and love is the most potent\nmeans of union.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then\nhe and Aziz left the shop, and taking the old woman with them,\nshowed her where they lodged. Then said the prince to Aziz, 'I\nhave no further need of the shop, having fulfilled my purpose of\nit; so I give it to thee with all that is in it; for that thou\nhast come abroad with me and hast left thy country for my sake.'\nAziz accepted his gift and they sat conversing awhile, the prince\nquestioning the young merchant of the strange passages of his\nlife and the latter acquainting him with the particulars thereof.\nPresently, they went to the Vizier and acquainting him with Taj\nel Mulouk's purpose, asked him what they should do. 'Let us go to\nthe garden,' answered he. So they donned their richest clothes\nand went forth, followed by three white slaves, to the garden,\nwhich they found thick with trees and abounding in rills. At the\ngate, they saw the keeper sitting; so they saluted him and he\nreturned their salute. Then the Vizier gave him a hundred dinars,\nsaying, 'Prithee, take this spending-money and fetch us something\nto eat; for we are strangers and I have with me these two lads,\nwhom I wish to divert.' The gardener took the money and said to\nthem, 'Enter and take your pleasure in the garden, for it is all\nyours; and sit down till I bring you what you require.' So he\nwent to the market, and the Vizier and his companions entered the\ngarden. In a little while, the gardener returned with a roasted\nlamb and bread as white as cotton, which he placed before them,\nand they ate and drank; after which he set on sweetmeats, and\nthey ate of them, then washed their hands and sat talking.\nPresently the Vizier said to the gardener, 'Tell me about this\ngarden: is it thine or dost thou rent it?' 'It does not belong to\nme,' replied he, 'but to the Princess Dunya, the King's\ndaughter.' 'What is thy wage?' asked the Vizier, and the gardener\nanswered, 'One dinar every month and no more.' Then the Vizier\nlooked round about the garden and seeing in its midst a pavilion,\nlofty but old and dilapidated, said to the keeper, 'O elder, I am\nminded to do here a good work, by which thou shalt remember me.'\n'O my lord,' rejoined the other, 'what is that?' 'Take these\nthree hundred dinars,' answered the Vizier. When the keeper heard\nspeak of the dinars, he said, 'O my lord, do what thou wilt.' So\nthe Vizier gave him the money, saying, 'God willing, we will work\na good work in this place.' Then they left the garden and\nreturned to their lodging, where they passed the night. Next day,\nthe Vizier sent for a plasterer and a painter and a skilful\ngoldsmith, and furnishing them with all the tools and materials\nthat they required, carried them to the garden, where he bade\nthem plaster the walls of the pavilion and decorate it with\nvarious kinds of paintings. Then he sent for gold and ultramarine\nand said to the painter, 'Paint me on the wall, at the upper end\nof the saloon, a fowler, with his nets spread and birds lighted\nround them and a female pigeon fallen into the net and entangled\ntherein by the bill. Let this fill one compartment of the wall,\nand on the other paint the fowler seizing the pigeon and setting\nthe knife to her throat, whilst the third compartment of the\npicture must show a great hawk seizing the male pigeon, her mate,\nand digging his talons into him.' The painter did as the Vizier\nbade him, and when he and the other workmen had finished, they\ntook their hire and went away. Then the Vizier and his companions\ntook leave of the gardener and returned to their lodging, where\nthey sat down to converse. And Taj el Mulouk said to Aziz, 'O my\nbrother, recite me some verses: haply it may dilate my breast and\ndispel my sad thoughts and assuage the fire of my heart.' So Aziz\nchanted the following verses:\n\nAll that they fable lovers feel of anguish and despite, I in\n     myself comprise, and so my strength is crushed outright;\nAnd if thou seekst a watering-place, see, from my streaming eyes,\n     Rivers of tears for those who thirst run ever day and night.\nOr, if thou fain wouldst look upon the ruin passion's hands Can\n     wreak on lovers, let thy gaze upon my body light.\n\nAnd his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated these verses\nalso:\n\nWho loves not the necks and the eyes of the fair and pretends,\n     forsooth, To know the delight of the world, God wot, he\n     speaks not the truth\nFor in love is a secret meaning that none may win to know Save he\n     who has loved indeed and known its wrath and ruth.\nMay God not lighten my heart of passion for her I love Nor ease\n     my eyelids, for love, of wakefulness in my youth!\n\nThen he sang the following:\n\nAvicenna pretends, in his writings renowned, That the lover's\n     best medicine is song and sweet sound\nAnd dalliance with one of his sex like his love And drinking,\n     with waters and fruits all around.\nI took me another, to heal me for thee, And fate was propitious\n     and grace did abound\nYet I knew love a mortal disease, against which Avicenna his\n     remedy idle I found.\n\nTaj el Mulouk was pleased with his verses and wondered at his\neloquence and the excellence of his recitation, saying, 'Indeed\nthou hast done away from me somewhat of my concern.' Then said\nthe Vizier, 'Of a truth there occurred to those of times past\nwhat astounds those who hear it.' 'If thou canst recall any fine\nverse of this kind,' quoth the prince, 'I prithee let us hear it\nand keep the talk in vogue.' So the Vizier chanted the following\nverses:\n\nMethought thy favours might be bought and thou to give consent To\n     union won by gifts of gold and grace and blandishment:\nAnd eke, for ignorance, I deemed thy love an easy thing, Thy love\n     in which the noblest souls for languor are forspent;\nUntil I saw thee choose one out and gratify that one With sweet\n     and subtle favours. Then, to me 'twas evident\nThy graces never might be won by any artifice; So underneath my\n     wing my head I hid incontinent\nAnd in the nest of passion made my heart's abiding-place, Wherein\n     my morning and my night for evermore are pent.\n\nMeanwhile the old woman remained shut up in her house till it\nbefell that the princess was taken with a desire to divert\nherself in the garden. Now this she had been wont to do only in\ncompany with her nurse; so she sent for her and spoke her fair\nand made her peace with her, saying, 'I wish to go forth to the\ngarden, that I may divert myself with the sight of its trees and\nfruits and gladden my heart with its flowers.' 'I hear and obey,'\nreplied the old woman; 'but let me first go to my house and\nchange my dress, and I will be with thee anon.' 'Go,' said the\nprincess; 'but be not long absent from me.' So the old woman left\nher and repairing to Taj el Mulouk, said to him, 'Don thy richest\nclothes and go to the gardener and salute him and make shift to\nhide thyself in the garden.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he; and\nshe agreed with him upon a signal to be made by her to him and\nreturned to the princess. As soon as she was gone, the Vizier and\nAziz rose and dressed Taj el Mulouk in a right costly suit of\nkings' raiment, worth five thousand dinars, and girt his middle\nwith a girdle of gold set with jewels. Then he repaired to the\ngarden and found the keeper seated at the gate. As soon as the\nlatter saw him, he sprang to his feet and received him with all\nrespect and consideration and opening the gate, said, 'Enter and\ntake thy pleasure in the garden.' Now the gardener knew not that\nthe princess was to visit the garden that day: but Taj el Mulouk\nhad been there but a little while, when he heard a noise and ere\nhe could think, out came the eunuchs and damsels by the private\ndoor. When the gardener saw this, he came up to the prince and\nsaid to him, 'O my lord, what is to be done? The Princess Dunya,\nthe King's daughter, is here.' 'Fear not,' replied the prince;\n'no harm shall befall thee: for I will conceal myself somewhere\nabout the garden.' So the gardener exhorted him to the utmost\nprudence and went away. Presently, the princess entered the\ngarden, attended by her damsels and the old woman, who said to\nherself, 'If these eunuchs abide with us, we shall not attain our\nobject.' So she said to the princess, 'O my lady, I have somewhat\nto say to thee that will be for thy heart's ease.' 'Say on,'\nreplied the princess. 'O my lady,' said the old woman, 'thou hast\nno present need of these eunuchs; send them away, for thou wilt\nnot be able to divert thyself at thine ease, whilst they are with\nus.' 'Thou art right,' rejoined the princess. So she dismissed\nthe eunuchs and began to walk about, whilst Taj el Mulouk fed his\neyes on her beauty and grace, without her knowledge, and fainted\nevery time he looked at her, by reason of her surpassing\nloveliness. The old woman held her in converse and drew her on\ntill they reached the pavilion, which the Vizier had caused to be\ndecorated afresh, when the princess entered and looking round,\nperceived the picture of the fowler and the birds; whereupon she\nexclaimed, 'Glory be to God! This is the very presentment of what\nI saw in my dream.' She continued to gaze at the painting, full\nof admiration, and presently she said, 'O my nurse, I have been\nwont to blame and dislike men, by reason of my having seen in my\ndream the female pigeon abandoned by her mate; but now see how\nthe male pigeon was minded to return and set her free; but the\nhawk met him and tore him in pieces.' The old woman, however,\nfeigned ignorance and ceased not to hold her in converse, till\nthey drew near the place where the prince lay hidden, whereupon\nshe signed to him to come out and walk under the windows of the\npavilion. He did so: and presently the princess, chancing to look\nout, saw him and noting his beauty and symmetry, said to the old\nwoman, 'O my nurse, whence comes yonder handsome youth?' 'I know\nnothing of him,' replied the old woman, 'except that I think he\nmust be some great king's son, for he attains the utmost extreme\nof beauty and grace.' The princess fell passionately in love with\nhim; the spells that bound her were dissolved and her reason was\novercome by his beauty and elegance. So she said to the old\nwoman, 'O my nurse this is indeed a handsome youth.' 'Thou art in\nthe right O my lady!' replied the nurse and signed to Taj el\nMulouk to go home. So he went away, not daring to cross her\nthough desire flamed in him and he was distraught for love and\nlonging, and taking leave of the gardener, returned to his\nlodging, where he told the Vizier and Aziz all that had passed.\nThey exhorted him to patience, saying, 'Did not the old woman\nknow that there was an object to be gained by thy departure, she\nhad not signed to thee to return home.'\n\nMeanwhile, desire and passion redoubled upon the princess, and\nshe was overcome with love-longing and said to the old woman, 'I\nknow not how I shall foregather with this youth, but through\nthee.' 'God be my refuge from Satan the Accursed!' exclaimed the\nold woman. 'Thou that art averse from men! How comes it that thou\nart thus afflicted with love of this young man? Though, by Allah,\nnone is worthy of thy youth but he!' 'O my nurse,' said the\nprincess, 'help me to foregather with him, and thou shalt have of\nme a thousand dinars and a dress worth as much more: but if thou\naid me not to come at him, I shall assuredly die.' 'Go to thy\npalace,' replied the nurse, 'and leave me to devise means for\nbringing you together. I will risk my life to content you both.'\nSo the princess returned to her palace, and the old woman betook\nherself to Taj el Mulouk, who rose to receive her and entreated\nher with respect and honour, making her sit by his side. Then\nsaid she, 'The device hath succeeded,' and told him all that had\npassed between the princess and herself. 'When is our meeting to\nbe?' asked he. 'To-morrow,' replied the old woman. So he gave her\na thousand dinars and a dress of equal value, and she took them\nand returned to the princess, who said to her, as soon as she saw\nher, 'O my nurse, what news of my beloved?' 'I have discovered\nwhere he lives,' replied she, 'and will bring him to thee\nto-morrow.' At this the princess was glad and gave her a thousand\ndinars and a dress worth as much more, with which she returned to\nher own house, where she passed the night. Next morning, she went\nto Taj el Mulouk and dressing him in women's clothes, said to\nhim, 'Follow me and sway from side to side, as thou goest, and do\nnot hasten in thy walk nor take heed of any that speaks to thee.'\nThen she went out and walked on, followed by the prince, whom she\ncontinued to lesson and hearten by the way, that he might not be\nafraid, till they came to the palace gate. She entered and the\nprince after her, and she led him through doors and vestibules,\ntill they had passed six doors. As they approached the seventh\ndoor, she said to him, 'Take courage and when I call out to thee\nand say, \"Pass, O damsel!\" do not hesitate, but hasten on. When\nthou art in the vestibule, thou wilt see on thy left a gallery,\nwith doors along it: count five doors and enter the sixth, for\ntherein is thy desire.' 'And whither wilt thou go?' asked the\nprince. 'Nowhere,' answered she; 'except that I may drop behind\nthee and the chief eunuch may detain me, whilst I talk with him.'\nThen they went up to the door, where the chief eunuch was\nstationed, and he, seeing Taj el Mulouk with her, dressed as a\nslave-girl, said to the old woman, 'What girl is this with\nthee?' Quoth she, 'This is a slave-girl of whom the Princess\nDunya has heard that she is skilled in different arts, and she\nhath a mind to buy her.' 'I know no slave-girl,' rejoined the\neunuch, 'nor any one else; and none shall enter here without\nbeing searched by me, according to the King's orders.' At this\nthe old woman feigned to be angry and said, 'I thought thee a man\nof sense and good breeding: but, if thou be changed, I will let\nthe princess know of it and how thou hinderest her slave-girl.'\nThen she cried out to Taj el Mulouk, saying, 'Pass on, O damsel!'\nSo he passed on into the vestibule, whilst the eunuch was silent\nand said nothing. Then the prince counted five doors and entered\nthe sixth, where he found the Princess Dunya standing awaiting\nhim. As soon as she saw him, she knew him and pressed him to her\nbosom, and he returned her embrace. Then the old woman came in to\nthem, having made a pretext to dismiss the princess's attendants\nfor fear of discovery, and the princess said to her, 'Do thou\nkeep the door.' So she and Taj el Mulouk abode alone together and\npassed the night in kissing and embracing and twining leg with\nleg. When the day drew near, she left him and shutting the door\nupon him, passed in to another apartment, where she sat down\naccording to her wont, whilst her women came in to her, and she\nattended to their affairs and conversed with them awhile. Then\nshe said to them, 'Leave me now, for I wish to be alone.' So they\nwithdrew and she betook herself to Taj el Mulouk, and the old\nwoman brought them food, of which they ate and after fell again\nto amorous dalliance, till the dawn. Then the princess left him,\nand locked the door as before; and they ceased not to do thus for\na whole month.\n\nMeanwhile, the Vizier and Aziz, when they found that the prince\ndid not return from the princess's palace all this while, gave\nhim up for lost and Aziz said to the Vizier, 'O my father, what\nshall we do?' 'O my son,' answered he, 'this is a difficult\nmatter, and except we return to his father and tell him, he will\nblame us.' So they made ready at once and setting out, journeyed\nnight and day along the valleys, in the direction of the Green\nCountry, till they reached King Suleiman's capital and presenting\nthemselves before him, acquainted him with what had befallen his\nson and how they had heard no news of him, since he entered the\nprincess's palace. At this the King was greatly troubled and\nregret was sore upon him, and he let call a holy war throughout\nhis realm. Then he encamped without the town with his troops and\ntook up his abode in his pavilion, whilst the levies came from\nall parts of the kingdom; for his subjects loved him by reason of\nhis much justice and beneficence. As soon as his forces were\nassembled, he took horse, with an army covering the country as\nfar as the eye could reach, and departed in quest of his son Taj\nel Mulouk. Meanwhile, the latter sojourned with the princess half\na year's time, whilst every day they redoubled in mutual\naffection and distraction and passion and love-longing and desire\nso pressed upon Taj el Mulouk, that at last he opened his mind to\nthe princess and said to her, 'Know, O beloved of my heart and\nentrails, that the longer I abide with thee, the more longing and\npassion and desire increase on me, for that I have not yet\nfulfilled the whole of my desire.' 'What then wouldst thou have,\nO light of my eyes and fruit of my entrails?' asked she. 'If thou\ndesire aught beside kissing and embracing and entwining of legs,\ndo what pleases thee; for, by Allah, none hath any part in us.'\n'It is not that I desire,' rejoined he; 'but I would fain\nacquaint thee with my true history. I am no merchant, but a King,\nthe son of a King, and my father is the supreme King Suleiman\nShah, who sent his Vizier ambassador to thy father, to demand thy\nhand for me in marriage, but thou wouldst not consent.' Then he\ntold her his story from first to last, nor is there any profit in\nrepeating it, and added, 'And now I wish to return to my father,\nthat he may send an ambassador to thy father, to demand thy hand\nfor me, so we may be at ease.' When she heard this, she rejoiced\ngreatly, because it fell in with her own wishes, and they passed\nthe night on this understanding. But by the decree of Fate, it\nbefell that sleep overcame them that night above all nights and\nthey slept till the sun had risen. Now at this hour, King\nShehriman was sitting on his chair of estate, with his amirs and\ngrandees before him, when the chief of the goldsmiths presented\nhimself before him carrying a large box, which he opened and\nbrought out therefrom a small casket worth a hundred thousand\ndinars, for that which was therein of rubies and emeralds and\nother jewels, beyond the competence of any King. When the King\nsaw this, he marveled at its beauty and turning to the chief\neunuch (him with whom the old woman had had to do, as before\nrelated), said to him, 'O Kafour, take this casket to the\nPrincess Dunya.' The eunuch took the casket and repairing to the\nprincess's apartment, found the door shut and the old woman lying\nasleep on the threshold; whereupon said he, 'Asleep at this\nhour?' His voice aroused the old woman, who was terrified and\nsaid to him, 'Wait till I fetch the key.' Then she went out and\nfled for her life; but the eunuch, having his suspicions of her,\nlifted the door off its hinges and entering, found the princess\nand Taj el Mulouk lying asleep in each other's arms. At this\nsight he was confounded and was about to return to the King, when\nthe princess awoke, and seeing him, was terrified and changed\ncolour and said to him, 'O Kafour, veil thou what God hath\nveiled.' But he replied, 'I cannot conceal aught from the King;'\nand locking the door on them, returned to Shehriman, who said to\nhim, 'Hast thou given the casket to the princess?' 'Here is the\ncasket,' answered the eunuch. 'Take it, for I cannot conceal\naught from thee. Know that I found a handsome young man in the\nprincess's arms, and they asleep in one bed.' The King commanded\nthem to be fetched and said to them, 'What manner of thing is\nthis!' and being violently enraged, seized a dagger and was about\nto strike Taj el Mulouk with it, when the princess threw herself\nupon him and said to her father, 'Slay me before him.' The King\nreviled her and commanded her to be taken back to her chamber:\nthen he turned to Taj el Mulouk and said to him, 'Woe to thee!\nWhence art thou? Who is thy father and what hath emboldened thee\nto debauch my daughter?' 'Know, O King,' replied the prince,\n'that if thou put me to death, thou wilt repent it, for it will\nbe thy ruin and that of all in thy dominions.' 'How so?' asked\nthe King. 'Know,' answered Taj el Mulouk, 'that I am the son of\nKing Suleiman Shah, and before thou knowest it, he will be upon\nthee with his horse and foot.' When King Shehriman heard this, he\nwould have forborne to kill Taj el Mulouk and put him in prison,\ntill he should know the truth of his words; but his Vizier said\nto him, 'O King of the age, it is my counsel that thou make haste\nto slay this gallows-bird, that dares debauch kings' daughters.'\nSo the King said to the headsman, 'Strike off his head; for he is\na traitor.' Accordingly, the headsman took him and binding him\nfast, raised his hand to the amirs, as if to consult them, a\nfirst and a second time, thinking to gain time; but the King said\nto him, 'How long wilt thou consult the amirs? If thou do so\nagain, I will strike off thine own head.' So the headsman raised\nhis hand, till the hair of his armpit appeared, and was about to\nsmite off Taj el Mulouk's head, when suddenly loud cries arose\nand the people closed their strops; whereupon the King said to\nhim, 'Wait awhile,' and despatched one to learn the news.\nPresently, the messenger returned and said, 'I see an army like\nthe stormy sea with its clashing billows; the earth trembles with\nthe tramp of their horses, and I know not the reason of their\ncoming.' When the King heard this, he was confounded and feared\nlest his realm should be torn from him; so he turned to his\nVizier and said, 'Have not any of our troops gone forth to meet\nthis army?' But before he had done speaking, his chamberlains\nentered with messengers from the approaching host, and amongst\nthem the Vizier who had accompanied Taj el Mulouk. They saluted\nthe King, who rose to receive them and bidding them draw near,\nenquired the reason of their coming; whereupon the Vizier came\nforward and said, 'Know that he who hath invaded thy realm is no\nking like unto the Kings and Sultans of time past.' 'Who is he?'\nasked Shehriman, and the Vizier replied, 'He is the lord of\njustice and loyalty, the report of whose magnanimity the caravans\nhave blazed abroad, the Sultan Suleiman Shah, lord of the Green\nCountry and the Two Columns and the mountains of Ispahan, he who\nloves justice and equity and abhors iniquity and oppression. He\nsaith to thee that his son, the darling of his heart and the\nfruit of his loins, is with thee and in this thy city; and if he\nfind him in safety, his aim is won and thou shalt have praise and\nthanks; but if he have disappeared from thy dominions or if aught\nhave befallen him, look thou for ruin and the laying waste of thy\nrealm; for this thy city shall become a desert, in which the\nraven shall croak. Thus have I done my errand to thee and peace\nbe on thee!' When King Shehriman heard these words, his heart was\ntroubled and he feared for his kingdom: so he cried out for his\ngrandees and viziers and chamberlains and officers; and when they\nappeared, he said to them, 'Out on you! Go down and search for\nthe young man!' Now the prince was still under the headsman's\nhands, but he was changed by the fright he had undergone.\nPresently, the Vizier, chancing to look aside, saw the prince on\nthe carpet of blood and knew him; so he threw himself upon him,\nas did the other envoys. Then they loosed his bonds and kissed\nhis hands and feet, whereupon he opened his eyes and recognizing\nhis father's Vizier and his friend Aziz, fell down in a swoon,\nfor excess of delight in them. When King Shehriman saw that the\ncoming of the army was indeed on this youth's account, he was\nconfounded and feared greatly; so he went up to Taj el Mulouk and\nkissing his head, said to him, with streaming eyes, 'O my son,\nbear me not malice neither blame the sinner for his evil-doing:\nbut have compassion on my gray hairs and do not lay waste my\nkingdom.' But Taj el Mulouk drew near unto him and kissing his\nhand, replied, 'Fear not: no harm shall come to thee, for indeed\nthou art to me as my father; but look that nought befall my\nbeloved, the lady Dunya.' 'O my lord,' replied the King, 'fear\nnot for her; nought but joy shall betide her.' And he went on to\nexcuse himself to him and made his peace with King Suleiman's\nVizier, to whom he promised much money, if he would conceal from\nthe King what he had seen. Then he bade his officers carry the\nprince to the bath and clothe him in one of the best of his own\nsuits and bring him back speedily. So they carried him to the\nbath and brought him back to the presence-chamber, after having\nclad him in the suit that the King had set apart for him. When he\nentered, the King rose to receive him and made all his grandees\nstand in attendance on him. Then he sat down to converse with\nAziz and the Vizier and acquainted them with what had befallen\nhim; after which they told him how they had returned to his\nfather and given him to know of his son's perilous plight and\nadded, 'And indeed our coming hath brought thee relief and us\ngladness.' Quoth he, 'Good fortune hath attended your every\naction, first and last.'\n\nMeanwhile, King Shehriman went in to his daughter, the Princess\nDunya, and found her weeping and lamenting for Taj el Mulouk.\nMoreover, she had taken a sword and fixed the hilt in the earth,\nwith the point to her heart between her breasts; and she bent\nover it, saying, 'Needs must I kill myself and not live after my\nbeloved.' When her father entered and saw her in this case, he\ncried out, 'O princess of kings' daughters, hold thy hand and\nhave compassion on thy father and the people of thy realm!' Then\nhe came up to her and said, 'God forbid that an ill thing should\nbefall thy father for thy sake!' And he told her that her lover\nwas the son of King Suleiman Shah and sought her to wife and that\nthe marriage waited only for her consent; whereat she smiled and\nsaid, 'Did I not tell thee that he was a king's son? By Allah, I\nmust let him crucify thee on a piece of wood worth two dirhems!'\n'O my daughter,' answered the King, 'have mercy on me, so may God\nhave mercy on thee!' 'Harkye,' rejoined she, 'make haste and\nbring him to me without delay.' The King replied, 'On my head and\neyes be it,' and returning in haste to Taj el Mulouk, repeated\nher words in his ear. So he arose and accompanied the King to the\nprincess, who caught hold of him and embraced him in her father's\npresence and kissed him, saying, 'Thou hast made me a weary\nwoman!' Then she turned to her father and said to him, 'Sawst\nthou ever any do hurt to the like of this fair creature, more by\ntoken that he is a king, the son of a king, and of the free-bon,\nguarded against abominations?' Therewith Shehriman went out and\nshutting the door on them with his own hand, returned to the\nVizier and the other envoys and bade them report to their King\nthat his son was in health and gladness and enjoying all delight\nof life with his beloved. So they returned to King Suleiman and\nacquainted him with this, whereat he rejoiced and exclaimed,\n'Praised be God who hath brought my son to his desire!'\n\nMeanwhile, King Shehriman despatched largesse of money and\nvictual to King Suleiman's troops, and choosing out a hundred\ncoursers and a hundred dromedaries and a hundred white slaves and\na hundred concubines and a hundred black slaves and a hundred\nfemale slaves, sent them all to the King as a present. Then he\ntook horse, with his grandees and chief officers, and rode out of\nthe city in the direction of King Suleiman's camp. As soon as the\nlatter knew of his approach, he rose and advancing some paces to\nmeet him, took him in his arms and made him sit down beside\nhimself on the royal couch, where they conversed awhile frankly\nand cheerfully. Then food was set before them, followed by\nsweetmeats and fruits, and they ate till they were satisfied.\nPresently, they were joined by Taj el Mulouk, richly dressed and\nadorned, and when his father saw him, he rose and embraced him\nand kissed him. Then the two kings seated him between them,\nwhilst all who were present rose to do him honour; and they sat\nconversing awhile, after which quoth King Suleiman to King\nShehriman, 'I wish to have the contract between my son and thy\ndaughter drawn up in the presence of witnesses, that the marriage\nmay be made public, as of wont.' 'I hear and obey,' answered King\nShehriman and summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, who came and\ndrew up the marriage contract between the prince and princess.\nThen they gave largesse of money and sweetmeats and burnt\nperfumes and sprinkled essences. And indeed it was a day of joy\nand festivity, and the grandees and soldiers rejoiced therein.\nThen King Shehriman proceeded to equip his daughter; and Taj el\nMulouk said to his father, 'Of a truth, this young man Aziz is a\nman of great worth and generosity and hath done me right noble\nservice, having wearied for me and travelled with me till he\nbrought me to my desire. Indeed, he ceased never to have patience\nwith me and exhort me to patience, till I accomplished my intent;\nand he has now companied with us two whole years, cut off from\nhis native land. So now I purpose to equip him with merchandise,\nthat he may depart with a light heart; for his country is near at\nhand.' 'It is well seen,' replied his father: so they made ready\na hundred loads of the richest and most costly stuffs, which Taj\nel Mulouk presented to Aziz, saying, 'O my brother and my true\nfriend, take these loads and accept them from me, as a gift and\ntoken of affection, and go in peace to thine own country.' Aziz\naccepted the presents and kissing the earth before the prince and\nhis father, bade them farewell. Moreover, Taj el Mulouk mounted\nand brought him three miles on his homeward way, after which Aziz\nconjured him to turn back, saying, 'By Allah, O my lord, were it\nnot for my mother, I would never part from thee! But leave me not\nwithout news of thee.' 'So be it,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then\nthe prince returned to the city, and Aziz journeyed on, till he\ncame to his native town and repairing to his mother's house,\nfound that she had built him a monument in the midst of the\ncourtyard and used to visit it continually. When he entered, he\nfound her, with her hair dishevelled and spread over the tomb,\nweeping and repeating the following verses:\n\nIndeed, I'm very patient 'gainst all that can betide; Yet do I\n     lack of patience thine absence to abide.\nWho is there can have patience after his friend and who Bows not\n     the head to parting, that comes with rapid stride?\n\nThen sobs burst up out of her breast, and she repeated these\nverses also:\n\nWhat ails me? I pass by the graveyard, saluting the tomb of my\n     son, And yet no greeting he gives me and answer comes there\n     none.\n\"How shall I give thee an answer, who lie in the grip of the\n     grave, The hostage of earth and corruption,\" replies the\n     beloved one.\n\"The dust hath eaten my beauties and I have forgotten thee, Shut\n     in from kindred and lovers and stars and moon and sun.\"\n\nThen Aziz came in to her, and when she saw him, she fell down in\na swoon for joy. He sprinkled water on her, till she revived and\nrising, took him in her arms and strained him to her bosom,\nwhilst he in like manner embraced her. Then they exchanged\ngreetings, and she asked the reason of his long absence,\nwhereupon he told her all that had befallen him from first to\nlast and how Taj el Mulouk had given him a hundred loads of\nwealth and stuffs. At this she rejoiced, and Aziz abode with his\nmother in his native town, weeping for what had befallen him with\nthe daughter of Delileh the Crafty, even her who had gelded him.\n\nMeanwhile, Taj el Mulouk went in to his beloved, the Princess\nDunya, and did away her maidenhead. Then King Shehriman proceeded\nto equip his daughter for her journey with her husband and\nfather-in-law and let bring them victual and gifts and rarities.\nSo they loaded their beasts and set forth, whilst Shehriman\nbrought them three days' journey on their way, till King Suleiman\nbegged him to return. So he took leave of them and turned back,\nand Taj el Mulouk and his wife and father journeyed on, night and\nday, with their troops, till they drew near the capital of the\nGreen Country. As soon as the news of their coming became known,\nthe folk decorated the city; so in they entered, and the King\nsitting down on his chair of estate, with his son by his side,\ngave alms and largesse and loosed those who were in bonds. Then\nhe held a second bridal for his son, and the sound of the\nsinging-women and players upon instruments of music ceased not\nfor a whole month, during which time the tire-women stinted not\nto adorn the bride and display her in various dresses; and she\ntired not of the unveiling nor did they weary of gazing on her.\nThen Taj el Mulouk, after having companied awhile with his father\nand mother, took up his sojourn with his wife, and they abode in\nall delight of life and fair fortune, till there came to them the\nDestroyer of Delights.\"\n\nWhen the Vizier had made an end of the story of Taj el Mulouk and\nthe Princess Dunya, Zoulmekan said to him, \"Of a truth, it is the\nlike of thee who lighten the mourning heart and are worthy to be\nthe companions of kings and to guide their policy in the right\nway.\"\n\nMeanwhile, they ceased not from the leaguer of Constantinople;\nand there they lay four whole years, till they yearned after\ntheir native land and the troops murmured, being weary of siege\nand vigil and stress of war by night and by day. Then King\nZoulmekan summoned Rustem and Behram and Terkash and bespoke them\nthus, \"Know that all these years we have lain here and have not\ncome by our intent and have gotten us but increase of trouble and\nconcern; for indeed we came, thinking to take our wreak for King\nOmar ben Ennuman and behold, my brother Sherkan was slain; so is\nour sorrow grown two sorrows and our affliction two afflictions.\nAll this came of the old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, for it was she who\nslew the Sultan in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the\nPrincess Sufiyeh; nor did this suffice her, but she must put\nanother cheat on us and slay my brother Sherkan: and indeed I\nhave bound myself and sworn by the most solemn oaths to avenge\nthem of her. What say ye? Ponder my words and answer me.\" With\nthis, they bowed their heads and answered, \"It is for the Vizier\nDendan to decide.\" So the Vizier came forward and said, \"O King\nof the age, it avails us nothing to tarry here, and it is my\ncounsel that we strike camp and return to our own country, there\nto abide awhile and after return and fall upon the worshippers of\nidols.\" \"This is a good counsel,\" replied the King; \"for indeed\nthe folk weary for a sight of their families, and I also am\ntroubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother's\ndaughter Kuzia Fekan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how\nit is with her.\" So he bade the herald call the retreat after\nthree days, whereupon the troops rejoiced and blessed the Vizier\nDendan. Then they fell to preparing for the homeward march and on\nthe fourth day, they beat the drums and unfurled the banners and\nthe army set forth, the Vizier in the van and the King riding in\nthe mid-battle, with the Great Chamberlain by his side, and\njourneyed night and day, till they reached Baghdad. The folk\nrejoiced in their return, and care and hardship ceased from them,\nwhilst those who had stayed at home came forth to meet those who\nhad been so long absent and each amir betook him to his own\nhouse. As for Zoulmekan, he went up to the palace and went into\nhis son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven and used\nto go down [into the tilting-ground] and ride. As soon as the\nKing was rested of his journey, he entered the bath with his son,\nand returning, seated himself on his chair of estate, whilst the\nVizier Dendan took up his station before him and the amirs and\ngrandees of the realm entered and stood in attendance upon him.\nThen he called for his comrade the stoker, who had befriended him\nin his strangerhood; and when he came, the King rose to do him\nhonour and made him sit by his own side. Now he had acquainted\nthe Vizier with all the kindness and fair service that the stoker\nhad done him; so the Vizier and all the amirs made much of him.\nThe stoker had waxed fat and burly with rest and good living, so\nthat his neck was like an elephant's neck and his face like a\nporpoise's belly. Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he\nhad never stirred from his place; so at the first he knew not the\nKing by his aspect. But Zoulmekan came up to him smilingly and\nsaluted him after the friendliest fashion, saying, \"How hast thou\nmade haste to forget me!\" So the stoker roused himself and\nlooking steadfastly on Zoulmekan knew him: whereupon he sprang to\nhis feet and exclaimed. \"O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?\"\nZoulmekan laughed at him and the Vizier, coming up to him,\nexpounded the whole story to him and said, \"He was thy brother\nand thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs must\nthou get great good of him. So I counsel thee, if he say to thee,\n'Ask a boon of me,' ask not but for some great thing; for thou\nart very dear to him.\" Quoth the stoker, \"I fear lest, if I ask\nof him aught, he may not choose to grant it or may not be able\nthereto.\" \"Have no care,\" answered the Vizier; \"whatsoever thou\nasketh, he will give thee.\" \"By Allah,\" rejoined the stoker, \"I\nmust ask of him a thing that is in my thought! Every night I\ndream of it and implore God to vouchsafe it to me.\" \"Take heart,\"\nsaid the Vizier. \"By Allah, if thou askedst of him the government\nof Damascus, in the room of his brother he would surely give it\nthee.\" With this, the stoker rose to his feet and Zoulmekan\nsigned to him to sit; but he refused, saying, \"God forfend! The\ndays are gone by of my sitting in thy presence.\" \"Not so,\"\nanswered the Sultan; \"they endure even now. Thou wert the cause\nthat I am now alive, and by Allah, what thing soever thou askest\nof me, I will give it to thee! But ask thou first of God, and\nthen of me.\" \"O my lord,\" said the stoker, \"I fear...,\" \"Fear\nnot,\" quoth the Sultan. \"I fear,\" continued he, \"to ask aught and\nthat thou shouldst refuse it to me.\" At this the King laughed and\nreplied, \"If thou askedst of me the half of my kingdom, I would\nshare it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking.\" \"I\nfear...,\" repeated the stoker. \"Do not fear,\" said the King. \"I\nfear,\" went on the stoker, \"lest I ask a thing and thou be not\nable thereto.\" With this, the Sultan waxed wroth and said, \"Ask\nwhat thou wilt.\" Then said the stoker, \"I ask, first of God and\nthen of thee, that thou write me a patent of mastership over all\nthe stokers in Jerusalem.\" The Sultan and all who were present\nlaughed and Zoulmekan said, \"Ask somewhat other than this.\" \"O my\nlord,\" replied the stoker, \"said I not I feared thou wouldst not\nchoose to grant me what I should ask or be not able thereto?\"\nTherewith the Vizier nudged him once and twice and thrice, and\nevery time he began, \"I ask of thee...\" Quoth the Sultan, \"Ask\nand be speedy.\" So he said, \"I beseech thee to make me captain of\nthe scavengers in Jerusalem or Damascus.\" Then all those who were\npresent laughed, till they fell backward, and the Vizier beat\nhim. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, \"What art thou\nthat thou shouldst beat me? It is no fault of mine: didst thou\nnot bid me ask some considerable thing? Let me go to my own\ncountry.\" With this, the Sultan knew that he was jesting and took\npatience with him awhile; then turned to him and said, \"O my\nbrother, ask of me some considerable thing, befitting our\ndignity.\" So the stoker said, \"O King of the age, I ask first of\nGod and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of Damascus in\nthe room of thy brother.\" \"God granteth thee this,\" answered the\nKing. So the stoker kissed the ground before him, and he bade set\nhim a chair in his rank and put on him a viceroy's habit. Then he\nwrote him a patent of investiture and sealing it with his own\nseal, said to the Vizier, \"None shall go with him but thou; and\nwhen thou returnest, do thou bring with thee my brother's\ndaughter, Kuzia Fekan.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered the Vizier\nand taking the stoker, went down with him and made ready for the\njourney. Then the King appointed the stoker servants and officers\nand gave him a new litter and princely equipage and said to the\namirs, \"Whoso loves me, let him honour this man and give him\na handsome present.\" So they brought him every one his gift,\naccording to his competence; and the King named him Ziblcan,\n[FN#150] and conferred on him the surname of honour of El\nMujahid.[FN#151] As soon as the new Viceroy's gear was ready, he\nwent up with the Vizier to the King, to take leave of him and ask\nhis permission to depart. The King rose to him and embracing him,\nexhorted him to do justice among his subjects and deal fairly\nwith them and bade him make ready for war against the infidels\nafter two years Then they took leave of each other and King\nZiblcan, surnamed El Mujahid, set out on his journey, after the\namirs had brought him slaves and servants, even to five thousand\nin number, who rode after him. The Grand Chamberlain also took\nhorse, as did Behram, captain of the Medes, and Rustem, captain\nof the Persians, and Terkash, captain of the Arabs, and rode with\nhim three days' journey, to do him honour and take their leaves\nof him. Then they returned to Baghdad and the Sultan Ziblcan and\nthe Vizier Dendan fared on, with their company, till they drew\nnear Damascus. Now news was come upon the wings of birds, to the\nnotables of Damascus that King Zoulmekan had made Sultan over\nDamascus a Sultan called Ziblcan el Mujahid; so when he reached\nthe city, he found it decorated in his honour, and all the folk\ncame out to gaze on him. He entered Damascus in great state and\nwent up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of\nestate, whilst the Vizier Dendan stood in attendance on him, to\nacquaint him with the ranks and stations of the amirs. Then the\ngrandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down\nblessings on him. He received them graciously and bestowed on\nthem gifts and dresses of honour; after which he opened the\ntreasuries and gave largesse to the troops, great and small. Then\nhe governed and did justice and proceeded to equip the lady Kuzia\nFekan, daughter of King Sherkan, appointing her a litter of\nsilken stuff. Moreover, he furnished the Vizier Dendan also for\nthe return journey and would have made him a gift of money, but\nhe refused, saying, \"Thou art near the time of the tryst with the\nKing, and haply thou wilt have need of money, or we may send to\nseek of thee funds for the Holy War or what not.\" When the Vizier\nwas ready, the Viceroy brought Kuzia Fekan to him and made her\nmount the litter, giving her ten damsels to do her service.\nMoreover, he mounted, to bid the Vizier farewell, and they set\nforward, whilst Ziblcan returned to Damascus and busied himself\nin ordering the affairs of his government and making ready his\nharness of war, against such time as King Zoulmekan should send\nto him there for. Meanwhile the Vizier and his company fared\nforward by easy stages, till they came, after a month's travel,\nto Ruhbeh[FN#152] and thence pushed on, till they drew near\nBaghdad. Then he despatched messengers, to inform King Zoulmekan\nof his arrival; and he, when he heard this, took horse and rode\nout to meet him. The Vizier would have dismounted to receive him,\nbut the King conjured him not to do so and spurred his steed,\ntill he came up to him. Then he questioned him of Ziblcan,\nwhereto the Vizier replied that he was well and that he had\nbrought with him his brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan. At this the\nKing rejoiced and said to Dendan, \"Go thou and rest thee of the\nfatigue of the journey, and after three days come to me again.\"\n\"With all my heart,\" replied the Vizier and betook himself to his\nown house, whilst the King went up to his palace and went in to\nhis brother's daughter, who was then a girl of eight years old.\nWhen he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed sore for her\nfather. Then he let make for her clothes and gave her splendid\njewels and ornaments and bade lodge her with his son Kanmakan in\none place. So they both grew up, the brightest and bravest of the\npeople of their time; but Kuzia Fekan grew up possessed of good\nsense and understanding and knowledge of the issues of events,\nwhilst Kanmakan grew up generous and freehanded, taking no\nthought to the issue of aught. Now Kuzia Fekan used to ride\na-horseback and fare forth with her cousin into the open plain\nand range at large with him in the desert; and they both learnt\nto smite with swords and thrust with spears. So they grew up,\ntill each of them attained the age of twelve, when King\nZoulmekan, having completed his preparations and provisions for\nthe Holy War, summoned the Vizier Dendan and said to him, \"Know\nthat I am minded to do a thing, which I will discover to thee,\nand do thou with speed return me an answer thereon.\" \"What is\nthat, O King of the age?\" asked the Vizier. \"I am resolved,\" said\nthe King, \"to make my son Kanmakan king and rejoice in him in my\nlifetime and do battle before him, till death overcome me. What\ndeemest thou of this?\" The Vizier kissed the earth before the\nKing and replied, \"O King and Sultan, lord of the age and the\ntime, this that is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is\nnow no time to carry it out, for two reasons: the first, that thy\nson Kanmakan is yet of tender age; and the second, that it is of\nwont that he who makes his son king in his lifetime, lives but a\nlittle thereafterward.\" \"Know, O Vizier,\" rejoined the King,\n\"that we will make the Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for\nhe is art and part of us and he married my sister, so that he is\nto me as a brother.\" Quoth the Vizier, \"Do what seemeth good to\nthee: we will obey thine orders.\" Then the King sent for the\nGrand Chamberlain and the grandees of the kingdom and said to\nthem, \"Ye know that this my son Kanmakan is the first cavalier of\nthe age and that he hath no peer in jousting and martial\nexercises; and now I appoint him to be Sultan over you in my\nstead and I make his uncle, the Grand Chamberlain, guardian over\nhim.\" \"O King of the age,\" replied the Chamberlain, \"I am but an\noffset of thy bounty.\" And the King said, \"O Chamberlain, verily\nthis my son Kanmakan and my niece Kuzia Fekan are brothers'\nchildren; so I marry them one to the other and I call those\npresent to witness thereof.\" Then he made over to his son such\ntreasures as beggar description and going in to his sister Nuzhet\nez Zeman told her what he had done, whereat she rejoiced greatly\nand said, \"Verily, they are both my children. May God preserve\nthee to them many a year!\" \"O my sister,\" replied he, \"I have\naccomplished that which was in my heart of the world and I have\nno fear for my son: yet it were well that thou shouldst have a\nwatchful eye to him and to his mother.\" And he went on to commend\nto the Chamberlain and Nuzhet ez Zeman his son and niece and\nwife. Thus did he nights and days till he [fell sick and] deeming\nsurely that he should drink the cup of death, took to his bed and\nabode thus a whole year, whilst the Chamberlain took upon himself\nthe ordering of the people and the realm. At the end of this\ntime, the King summoned his son Kanmakan and the Vizier Dendan\nand said to the former, \"O my son, this Vizier shall be thy\nfather, when I am dead; for know that I am about to leave this\ntransitory house of life for that which is eternal. And indeed I\nhave fulfilled my lust of this world; yet there remaineth in my\nheart one regret, which may God dispel at thy hands!\" \"What\nregret is that, O my father?\" asked his son. \"O my son,\" answered\nZoulmekan, \"it is that I die without having avenged thy\ngrandfather Omar ben Ennuman and thine uncle Sherkan on an old\nwoman whom they call Dhat ed Dewahi; but, so God grant thee aid,\ndo not thou fail to take thy wreak on her and to wipe out the\ndisgrace we have suffered at the hands of the infidels. Beware of\nthe old woman's craft and do as the Vizier shall counsel thee;\nfor that he from of old time hath been the pillar of our realm.\"\nAnd his son assented to what he said. Then the King's eyes ran\nover with tears and his sickness redoubled on him, nor did it\nleave to press sore upon him four whole years, during which time\nhis brother-in-law the Chamberlain held sway over the country,\njudging and commanding and forbidding, to the contentment of the\npeople and the nobles, and all the land prayed for him[FN#153]\nwhat while Zoulmekan was occupied with his malady. As for\nKanmakan, he had no thought but of riding and tilting with spears\nand shooting with arrows, and thus also did his cousin Kuzia\nFekan; for they were wont to go forth at the first of the day and\nreturn at nightfall, when she would go in to her mother and he to\nhis, to find her sitting weeping by his father's bed. Then he\nwould tend his father till daybreak, when he would go forth again\nwith his cousin, according to their wont. Now Zoulmekan's\nsufferings were long upon him and he wept and recited these\nverses:\n\nMy strength is past away, my tale of days is told And I, alas! am\n     left even as thou dost behold.\nIn honour's day, the first amongst my folk was I, And in the race\n     for fame the foremost and most bold.\nWould that before my death I might but see my son The empery in\n     my stead over the people hold\nAnd rush upon his foes and take on them his wreak, At push of\n     sword and pike, in fury uncontrolled.\nLo, I'm a man fordone, in this world and the next, Except my\n     spright of God be solaced and consoled!\n\nWhen he had made an end of repeating these verses he laid his\nhead on his pillow and his eyes closed and he slept. In his sleep\nhe saw one who said to him, \"Rejoice for thy son shall fill the\nlands with justice and have the mastery over them and men shall\nobey him.\" Then he awoke gladdened by this happy omen that he had\nseen, and after a few days, death smote him, whereat great grief\nfell on the people of Baghdad, and gentle and simple mourned for\nhim. But time passed over him, as if he had never been, and\nKanmakan's estate was changed; for the people of Baghdad set him\naside and put him and his family in a place apart. When his\nmother saw this, she fell into the sorriest of plights and said,\n\"Needs must I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I hope for the\nfavour of the Subtle, the All-Wise One!\" Then she betook herself\nto the house of the Chamberlain, who was now become Sultan, and\nfound him sitting upon his couch. So she went in to his wife\nNuzhet ez Zeman and wept sore and said, \"Verily, the dead have no\nfriends. May God never bring you to need and may you cease not to\nrule justly over rich and poor many days and years! Thine ears\nhave heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours aforetime\nof kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and goodliness of\nlife and condition; and now fortune hath turned upon us, and fate\nand the time have played us false and wrought hostilely with us;\nwherefore I come to thee, craving thy bounties, I that have been\nused to confer favours; for when a man dies, women and girls are\nbrought low after him.\" And she repeated the following verses:\n\nLet it suffice thee that Death is the worker of wonders and know\n     That the lives which are gone from our sight will never\n     return to us mo'.\nThe days of the life of mankind are nothing but journeys, I wot,\n     whose watering-places for aye are mixed with misfortune and\n     woe.\nYet nothing afflicteth my heart like the loss of the good and the\n     great, Whom the stresses of adverse events have compassed\n     about and laid low.\n\n\nWhen Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she remembered her brother\nZoulmekan and his son Kanmakan and making her draw near to her,\nsaid to her, \"By Allah, I am now rich and thou poor, and by\nAllah, we did not leave to seek thee out, but that we feared to\nwound thy heart, lest thou shouldst deem our gifts to thee an\nalms. Of a truth, all the good that we now enjoy is from thee and\nthy husband: so our house is thy house and our place thy place,\nand all that we have of wealth and goods is thine.\" Then she clad\nher richly and appointed her a lodging in the palace, adjoining\nher own; and she and her son abode therein in all delight of\nlife. Him also did Nuzhet ez Zeman clothe in kings' raiment and\ngave them handmaids to do them service. After a little, she told\nher husband of her brother's widow, whereat his eyes filled with\ntears and he said, \"Wouldst thou see the world after thee, look\nupon the world after another than thyself. Entertain her\nhonourably and enrich her poverty.\"\n\nMeanwhile, Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan grew up and flourished, like\nunto two fruit-laden saplings or two shining moons, till they\nreached the age of fifteen. As for the girl, she was indeed the\nfairest of the cloistered maids, with lovely face and smooth\ncheeks, slender waist, heavy hips and arrowy shape, lips sweeter\nthan old wine and spittle as it were the fountain Selsebil of\nParadise, even as saith the poet, describing her:\n\nFrom her mouth's honeyed dew, meseems, the first-pressed wine is\n     drawn And on her sweetest lips the grapes, from which it's\n     crushed, are grown;\nAnd when thou makest her to bend, its vines sway in her shape.\n     Blessed be He who fashioned her and may not be made known!\n\nFor indeed God had united in her every attribute of beauty: her\nshape put to shame the willow-wand and the rose sought grace\nbefore her cheeks; the water of her mouth made mock of clear\nwine, and she gladdened heart and eyes, even as saith of her the\npoet:\n\nGoodly and glorious she is, and perfect in every charm. Her\n     eyelashes put to shame kohl and the users of kohl.\nEven as a sword in the hand of Ali, the Vicar of God, So is the\n     glance of her eye to a lover's heart and soul.\n\nAs for Kanmakan, he was no less accomplished in grace and\nexcelling in perfection; there was none could match with him in\nbeauty and qualities, and valour shone from between his liquid\nblack eyes, testifying for him and not against him. The hardest\nhearts inclined to him; and when the tender down of his lips and\ncheeks began to sprout, many were the poems made in his honour:\nas for example quoth one:\n\nUnshown was my excuse, till on his cheek the hair Grew and the\n     darkness crept, bewildered, here and there.\nA fawn, when eyes of men are fixed upon his charms, His glances\n     straight on them a trenchant poniard bare.\n\nAnd another:\n\nHis lovers' souls have woven upon his cheek, I ween, A net the\n     blood has painted with all its ruddy sheen.\nOh, how at them I marvel! They're martyrs; yet they dwell In\n     fire, and for their raiment, they're clad in sendal\n     green.[FN#154]\n\nIt chanced, one festival day, that Kuzia Fekan went out,\nsurrounded by her handmaids, to visit certain kindred of the\ncourt; and indeed beauty encompassed her; the rose of her cheek\nvied with the mole thereon, her teeth flashed from her smiling\nlips, like the petals of the camomile flower, and she was as the\nresplendent moon. Her cousin Kanmakan began to turn about her and\ndevour her with his eyes. Then he took courage and giving loose\nto his tongue, repeated the following verses:\n\nWhen shall the mourning heart be healed of anger and disdain?\n     When, rigour ceasing, shall the lips of union smile again?\nWould God I knew if I shall lie, some night, within the arms Of a\n     beloved, in whose heart is somewhat of my pain!\n\nWhen she heard this, she was angry and putting on a haughty air,\nsaid to him, \"Hast thou a mind to shame me among the folk, that\nthou speakest thus of me in thy verse? By Allah, except thou\nleave this talk, I will assuredly complain of thee to the Grand\nChamberlain, Sultan of Baghdad and Khorassan and lord of justice\nand equity, whereby disgrace and punishment will fall on thee?\"\nTo this Kanmakan made no reply, but returned to Baghdad: and\nKuzia Fekan also returned home and complained of her cousin to\nher mother, who said to her, \"O my daughter, belike he meant thee\nno ill, and is he not an orphan? Indeed, he said nought that\nimplied reproach to thee; so look thou tell none of this, lest it\ncome to the Sultan's ears and he cut short his life and blot out\nhis name and make it even as yesterday, whose remembrance hath\npassed away.\" How ever, Kanmakan's case was not hidden from the\npeople, and his love for Kuzia Fekan became known in Baghdad, so\nthat the women talked of it. Moreover, his heart became\ncontracted and his patience waned and he knew not what to do.\nThen longed he to give vent to the anguish he endured, by reason\nof the pangs of separation; but he feared her anger and her\nrebuke: so he recited the following verses:\n\nWhat though I be fearful, anon, of her wrath, Whose humour serene\n     is grown troubled and dour,\nI bear it with patience, as he who is sick Endureth a caut'ry in\n     hopes of a cure.\n\nHis verses came one day to the knowledge of King Sasan (for so\nhad they named the Grand Chamberlain, on his assumption of the\nSultanate), as he sat on his throne, and he was told of the love\nthe prince bore to Kuzia Fekan; whereat he was sore vexed, and\ngoing in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, said to her, \"Verily, to\nbring together fire and dry grass is of the greatest of risks;\nand men may not be trusted with women, so long as eyes cast\nfurtive glances and eyelids quiver. Now thy nephew Kanmakan is\ncome to man's estate and it behoves us to forbid him access to\nthe harem; nor is it less needful that thy daughter be kept from\nthe company of men, for the like of her should be cloistered.\"\n\"Thou sayest sooth, O wise King,\" answered she. Next day came\nKanmakan, according to his wont, and going in to his aunt,\nsaluted her. She returned his greeting and said to him, \"O my\nson, I have somewhat to say to thee, that I would fain leave\nunsaid; yet must I tell it thee, in my own despite.\" \"Speak,\"\nsaid he. \"Know then,\" rejoined she, \"that thine uncle the\nChamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fekan, has heard of thy love for\nher and the verses thou madest of her and has ordered that she be\nkept from thee; wherefore, if thou have occasion for aught from\nus, I will send it to thee from behind the door, and thou shalt\nnot look upon Kuzia Fekan nor return hither from day forth.\" When\nhe heard this, he withdrew, without speaking a word, and betook\nhimself to his mother, to whom he related what his aunt had said\nto him. Quoth she, \"This all comes of thy much talk. Thou knowest\nthat the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fekan is noised abroad\neverywhere and how thou eatest their victual and makest love to\ntheir daughter.\" \"And who should have her but I?\" replied the\nprince. \"She is the daughter of my father's brother and I have\nthe best of rights to her.\" \"These are idle words,\" rejoined his\nmother. \"Be silent, lest thy talk come to King Sasan's ears and\nit prove the cause of thy losing her and of thy ruin and increase\nof affliction. They have not sent us the evening meal to-night\nand we shall die of want; and were we in any land other than\nthis, we were already dead of the pangs of hunger or the\nhumiliation of begging our bread.\" When Kanmakan heard his\nmother's words, his anguish redoubled; his eyes ran over with\ntears and he sobbed and complained and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nGive o'er this unrelenting blame, that never lets me be! My heart\n     loves her to whom it's thrall and may not struggle free.\nLook not to me for any jot of patience, for I swear By God His\n     house, my patience all is clean divorced from me!\nBlamers to prudence me exhort; I heed them not, for I In my\n     avouchment am sincere of love and constancy.\nThey hinder me by very force from visiting my dear, Though, by\n     the Merciful, nor rogue am I nor debauchee!\nIndeed, my bones, whenas they hear the mention of her name, Do\n     quake and tremble even as birds from sparrow-hawks that\n     flee.\nO daughter of my uncle, say to him who chides at love, That I, by\n     Allah, am distraught with love-longing for thee.\n\nAnd he said to his mother, \"I can dwell no longer in my aunt's\nhouse nor among these people, but will go forth and abide in the\ncorners of the city.\" So he and his mother left the palace and\ntook up their abode in one of the quarters of the poorer sort:\nand she used to go from time to time to King Sasan's palace and\ntake thence food for her own and her son's subsistence. One day,\nKuzia Fekan took her aside and said to her, \"Alas, my aunt, how\nis it with thy son?\" \"O my daughter,\" replied she, \"sooth to say,\nhe is tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, being fallen into the\nsnare of thy love.\" And she repeated to her the verses he had\nmade; whereupon Kuzia Fekan wept and said, \"By Allah, I rebuked\nnot him for his words of ill-will or dislike to him, but because\nI feared the malice of enemies for him. Indeed, my passion for\nhim is double that he feels for me; words fail to set out my\nyearning for him; and were it not for the extravagances of his\ntongue and the wanderings of his wit, my father had not cut off\nhis favours from him nor decreed unto him exclusion and\nprohibition. However, man's fortune is nought but change, and\npatience in every case is most becoming; peradventure He who\nordained our severance will vouchsafe us reunion!\" And she\nrepeated the following:\n\nO son of mine uncle, the like of thine anguish I suffer, the like\n     of thy passion I feel;\nYet hide I from men what I suffer for longing, And shouldst thou\n     not also thy passion conceal?\n\nWhen his mother heard this, she thanked her and blessed her: then\nshe left her and returning to her son, told him what his mistress\nhad said; whereupon his desire for her increased. But he took\nheart, being eased of his despair, and the turmoil of his spirits\nwas quelled. And he said, \"By Allah, I desire none but her!\" And\nhe repeated the following verses:\n\nGive over thy chiding; I'll hearken no whit to the flouts of my\n     foes: Indeed I've discovered my secret that nought should\n     have made me disclose;\nAnd she, whose enjoyment I hoped for, alack! is far distant from\n     me; Mine eyes watch the hours of the dark, whilst she passes\n     the night in repose.\n\nSo the days and nights went by, whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon\ncoals of fire, till he reached the age of seventeen: and indeed\nhis beauty was now come to perfection and his wit had ripened.\nOne night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said,\n\"Why should I keep silence, till I consume away, and see not my\nlove? My only fault is poverty: so, by Allah, I will go out from\nthis land and wander afar in the plains and valleys; for my\ncondition in this city is one of misery and I have no friend nor\nlover in it to comfort me; wherefore I will distract myself by\nabsence from my native land, till I die and am at peace from\nabasement and tribulation.\" And he repeated the following verses:\n\nThough my soul weary for distress and flutter fast for woe, Yet\n     of its nature was it ne'er to buckle to a foe.\nExcuse me; for indeed my heart is like a book, whereof The\n     superscription's nought but tears, that aye unceasing flow.\nBehold my cousin, how she seems a maid of Paradise, A houri come,\n     by Rizwan's grace, to visit us below!\nWho seeks the glances of her eyes and dares the scathing stroke\n     Of their bright swords, shall hardly 'scape their swift and\n     deadly blow.\nLo, I will wander o'er the world, to free my heart from bale And\n     compensation for its loss upon my soul bestow!\nYea, I will range the fields of war and tilt against the brave\n     And o'er the champions will I ride roughshod and lay them\n     low.\nThen will I come back, glad at heart and rich in goods and store,\n     Driving the herds and flocks as spoil before me, as I go.\n\nSo he went out in the darkness of the night, barefoot, wearing a\nshort-sleeved tunic and a skull-cap of felt seven years old and\ncarrying a cake of dry bread, three days stale, and betook\nhimself to the gate El Arij of Baghdad. Here he waited till the\ngate opened, when he was the first to go forth; and he went out\nat random and wandered in the deserts day and night. When the\nnight came, his mother sought him, but found him not, whereupon\nthe world, for all its wideness, was straitened upon her and she\ntook no delight in aught of its good. She looked for him a first\nday and a second and a third, till ten days were past, but no\nnews of him reached her. Then her breast became contracted and\nshe shrieked and lamented, saying, \"O my son, O my delight, thou\nhast revived my sorrows! Did not what I endured suffice, but thou\nmust depart from the place of my abiding? After thee, I care not\nfor food nor delight in sleep, and but tears and mourning are\nleft me. O my son, from what land shall I call thee? What country\nhath given thee refuge?\" And her sobs burst up, and she repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nWe know that, since you went away, by grief and pain we're tried.\n     The bows of severance on us full many a shaft have plied.\nThey girt their saddles on and gainst the agonies of death Left\n     me to strive alone, whilst they across the sand-wastes\n     tried.\nDeep in the darkness of the night a ring-dove called to me,\n     Complaining of her case; but I, \"Give o'er thy plaint,\"\n     replied.\nFor, by thy life, an if her heart were full of dole, like mine,\n     She had not put a collar on nor yet her feet had dyed.\nMy cherished friend is gone and I for lack of him endure All\n     manner sorrows which with me for ever will abide.\n\nThen she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to\nweeping and lamentation. Her grief became known and all the\npeople of the town and country wept with her and said, \"Where is\nthine eye, O Zoulmekan?\" And they bewailed the rigour of fate,\nsaying, \"What can have befallen him, that he left his native town\nand fled from the place where his father used to fill the hungry\nand do justice and mercy?\" And his mother redoubled her tears and\nlamentations, till the news of Kanmakan's departure came to King\nSasan through the chief amirs, who said to him, \"Verily, he is\nthe son of our (late) King and the grandson of King Omar ben\nEnnuman and we hear that he hath exiled himself from the\ncountry.\" When King Sasan heard these words, he was wroth with\nthem and ordered one of them to be hanged, whereat the fear of\nhim fell upon the hearts of the rest and they dared not speak one\nword. Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zoulmekan had\ndone him and how he had commended his son to his care; wherefore\nhe grieved for Kanmakan and said \"Needs must I have search made\nfor him in all countries.\" So he summoned Terkash and bade him\nchoose a hundred horse and go in quest of the prince. Accordingly\nhe went out and was absent ten days, after which he returned and\nsaid, \"I can learn no tidings of him and have come on no trace of\nhim, nor can any tell me aught of him.\" With this, King Sasan\nrepented him of that which he had done with Kanmakan; whilst his\nmother abode without peace or comfort, nor would patience come at\nher call: and thus twenty heavy days passed over her.\n\nTo return to Kanmakan. When he left Baghdad, he went forth,\nperplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should go: so\nhe fared on alone into the desert for the space of three days and\nsaw neither footman nor horseman. Sleep deserted him and his\nwakefulness redoubled, for he pined for his people and his\ncountry. So he wandered on, eating of the herbs of the earth and\ndrinking of its waters and resting under its trees at the hour of\nthe noontide heats, till he came to another road, into which he\nturned and following it other three days, came to a land of green\nfields and smiling valleys, abounding in the fruits of the earth.\nIt had drunken of the beakers of the clouds, to the sound of the\nvoices of the turtle and the ring-dove, till its hill-sides were\nenamelled with verdure and its fields were fragrant. At this\nsight, Kanmakan recalled his father's city Baghdad, and for\nexcess of emotion repeated the following verses:\n\nI wander on, in hope I may return Some day, yet know not when\n     that day shall be.\nWhat drove me forth was that I found no means To fend awe, the\n     ills that pressed on me.\n\nThen he wept, but presently wiped away his tears and ate of the\nfruits of the earth. Then he made his ablutions and prayed the\nordained prayers that he had neglected all this time; after which\nhe sat in that place, resting, the whole day. When the night\ncame, he lay down and slept till midnight, when he awoke and\nheard a man's voice repeating the following verses:\n\nLife unto me is worthless, except I see the shine\n     Of the flashing teeth of my mistress and eke her face divine.\nThe bishops in the convents pray for her day and night\n     And in the mosques the imams fall prone before her shrine.\nDeath's easier than the rigours of a beloved one,\n     Whose image never cheers me, whenas I lie and pine.\nO joy of boon-companions, when they together be\n     And lover and beloved in one embrace entwine!\nStill more so in the season of Spring, with all its flowers,\n     What time the world is fragrant with blossoms sweet and fine.\nUp, drinker of the vine-juice, and forth, for seest thou not\n     Earth gilt with blooms and waters all welling forth like wine?\n\nWhen Kanmakan heard this, it revived his sorrows; his tears ran\ndown his cheeks like rivers and flames of fire raged in his\nheart. He rose to see who it was that spoke, but saw none, for\nthe thickness of the dark; whereupon passion increased on him and\nhe was alarmed and restlessness possessed him. So he descended to\nthe bottom of the valley and followed the banks of the stream,\ntill he heard one sighing heavily, and the same voice recited the\nfollowed verses:\n\nThough thou have used to dissemble the love in thy heart for\n     fear, Give on the day of parting, free course to sob and\n     tear.\n'Twixt me and my beloved were vows of love and troth; So cease I\n     for her never to long and wish her near.\nMy heart is full of longing; the zephyr, when it blows, To many a\n     thought of passion stirs up my heavy cheer.\nDoth she o' the anklets hold me in mind, whilst far away, Though\n     between me and Saada were solemn vows and dear?\nShall the nights e'er unite us, the nights of dear delight, And\n     shall we tell our suff'rings, each in the other's ear?\n\"Thou seduced by passion for us,\" quoth she, and I, \"God keep Thy\n     lovers all! How many have fallen to thy spear?\"\nIf mine eyes taste the pleasance of sleep, while she's afar, May\n     God deny their vision her beauties many a year!\nO the wound in mine entrails! I see no cure for it Save\n     love-delight and kisses from crimson lips and clear.\n\nWhen Kanmakan heard this, yet saw no one, he knew that the\nspeaker was a lover like unto himself, debarred the company of\nher whom he loved; and he said to himself; \"It were fitting that\nthis man should lay his head to mine and become my comrade in\nthis my strangerhood.\" Then he hailed the speaker and cried out\nto him, saying \"O thou that goest in the sombre night, draw near\nto me and tell me thy history. Haply thou shalt find in me one\nwho will succour thee in shine affliction.\" \"O thou that\nanswerest my complaint and wouldst know my history,\" rejoined the\nother, \"who art thou amongst the cavaliers? Art thou a man or a\ngenie? Answer me speedily ere thy death draw near, for these\ntwenty days have I wandered in this desert and have seen no one\nnor heard any voice but thine.\" When Kanmakan heard this, he said\nto himself, \"His case is like unto mine, for I also have wandered\ntwenty days in the desert and have seen none nor heard any voice:\nbut I will make him no answer till the day.\" So he was silent and\nthe other called out to him, saying, \"O thou that callest, if\nthou be of the Jinn, go in peace, and if thou be a man, stay\nawhile, till the day break and the night flee with the dark.\" So\nthey abode each in his own place, reciting verses and weeping\nwith abundant tears, till the light of day appeared and the night\ndeparted with the darkness. Then Kanmakan looked at the other and\nfound him a youth of the Bedouin Arabs, clad in worn clothes and\ngirt-with a rusty sword, and the signs of passion were apparent\non him. So he went up to him and accosting him, saluted him. The\nBedouin returned the salute and greeted him courteously, but made\nlittle account of him, for what he saw of his tender years and\nhis condition, which was that of a poor man. So he said to him,\n\"O youth, of what tribe art thou and to whom art thou kin among\nthe Arabs? What is thy history and wherefore goest thou by night,\nafter the fashion of champions? Indeed, thou spokest to me in the\nnight words such as are spoken of none but magnanimous cavaliers\nand lionhearted warriors; and now thy life is in my hand. But I\nhave compassion on thee by reason of thy tender age; so I will\nmake thee my companion, and thou shalt go with me, to do me\nservice.\" When Kanmakan heard him speak thus unseemly, after what\nhe had shown him of skill in verse, he knew that he despised him\nand thought to presume with him; so he answered him with soft and\ndulcet speech, saying, \"O chief of the Arabs, leave my tenderness\nof age and tell me thy story and why thou wanderest by night in\nthe desert, reciting verses. Thou talkest of my serving thee; who\nthen art thou and what moved thee to speak thus?\" \"Harkye, boy!\"\nanswered the Bedouin, \"I am Subbah, son of Remmah ben Hummam. My\npeople are of the Arabs of Syria, and I have a cousin called\nNejmeh, who brings delight to all that look on her. My father\ndied, and I was brought up in the house of my uncle, the father\nof Nejmeh; but when I grew up and my cousin became a woman, they\nexcluded her from me and me from her, seeing that I was poor and\nof little estate. However, the chiefs of the Arabs and the heads\nof the tribes went in to her father and rebuked him, and he was\nabashed before them and consented to give me his daughter, but\nupon condition that I should bring him as her dower fifty head of\nhorses and fifty dromedaries and fifty camels laden with wheat\nand a like number laden with barley, together with ten male and\nten female slaves. The dowry he imposed upon me was beyond my\ncompetence; for he exacted more than the due marriage portion. So\nnow I am travelling from Syria to Irak, having passed twenty days\nwithout seeing other than thyself, and I mean to go to Baghdad,\nthat I may note what rich and considerable merchants start\nthence. Then I will go out in their track and seize their goods,\nfor I will kill their men and drive off their camels with their\nloads. But what manner of man art thou?\" \"Thy case is like unto\nmine,\" replied Kanmakan; \"save that my complaint is more grievous\nthan thine; for my cousin is a king's daughter, and the dowry of\nwhich thou hast spoken would not content her family, nor would\nthey be satisfied with the like of that from me.\" \"Surely,\" said\nSubbah, \"thou art mad or light-headed for excess of passion! How\ncan thy cousin be a king's daughter? Thou hast no sign of\nprincely rank on thee, for thou art but a mendicant.\" \"O chief of\nthe Arabs,\" rejoined Kanmakan, \"marvel not at my case, for it is\ndue to the shifts of fortune; and if thou desire proof of me,\nbehold, I am Kanmakan, son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar\nben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and Khorassan, and fortune hath\nplayed the tyrant with me; for my father died and (my uncle) King\nSasan took the Sultanate. So I fled forth from Baghdad, secretly,\nlest any should see me, and have wandered twenty days, without\nseeing any but thyself. So now I have discovered to thee my case,\nand my history is as thy history and my need as thy need.\" When\nSubbah heard this, he cried out and said, \"O joy! I have attained\nmy desire! I will have no booty this day but thyself; for, since\nthou art of the lineage of kings and hast come out in the habit\nof a beggar, it cannot be but thy people will seek thee, and if\nthey find thee in any one's hand, they will ransom thee with much\ntreasure. So put thy hands behind thee, O my lad, and walk before\nme.\" \"Softly, O brother of the Arabs,\" answered Kanmakan; \"my\npeople will not ransom me with silver nor with gold, no, not with\na brass dirhem; and I am a poor man, having with me neither much\nnor little: so leave this behaviour with me and take me to\ncomrade. Let us go forth of the land of Irak and wander over the\nworld, so haply we may win dower and marriage-portion and enjoy\nour cousins' embraces.\" When Subbah heard this, he was angry; his\narrogance and heat redoubled and he said, \"Out on thee, O vilest\nof dogs! Dost thou bandy words with me? Turn thy back, or I will\nchastise thee.\" At this Kanmakan smiled and answered, \"Why should\nI turn my back for thee? Is there no equity in thee? Dost thou\nnot fear to bring reproach upon the Arabs by driving a man like\nmyself captive, in dishonour and humiliation, before thou hast\nproved him in the field, to know if he be a warrior or a coward?\"\nThe Bedouin laughed and replied, \"By Allah, I wonder at thee!\nThou art a boy in years, but old in talk. These words should come\nfrom none but a doughty champion: what wantest thou of equity?\n\"If thou wilt have me be thy captive, to serve thee,\" said\nKanmakan, \"throw down thine arms and put off thine upper clothes\nand wrestle with me; and whichever of us throws the other shall\nhave his will of him and make him his servant.\" The other laughed\nand said, \"I think thy much talk denotes the nearness of thy\ndeath.\" Then he threw down his sword and tucking up his skirt,\ndrew near unto Kanmakan, and they gripped each other. But the\nBedouin found that Kanmakan had the better of him and outweighed\nhim, as the quintal outweighs the dinar; and he looked at his\nlegs and saw that they were as firmly planted as two well-builded\nminarets or two tent-poles driven into the ground or two\nimmovable mountains. So he knew that he himself was not able to\ncope with him and repented of having come to wrestle with him,\nsaying in himself, \"Would I had fallen on him with my weapons!\"\nThen Kanmakan took hold of him and mastering him shook him, till\nhe thought his guts would burst in his belly and roared out,\n\"Hold thy hand, O boy!\" He heeded him not, but shook him again,\nand lifting him from the ground, made with him towards the\nstream, that he might throw him therein: whereupon the Bedouin\ncried out, saying, \"O valiant man, what wilt thou do with me?\"\nQuoth Kanmakan, \"I mean to throw thee into this stream: it will\ncarry thee to the Tigris. The Tigris will bring thee to the river\nIsa and the Isa to the Euphrates, and the Euphrates will bear\nthee to thine own country; so thy people will see thee and know\nthy manlihead and the sincerity of thy passion.\" When Subbah\nheard this, he cried out and said, \"O champion of the desert, do\nnot with me the deed of the wicked, but let me go, by the life of\nthy cousin, the jewel of the fair!\" With this, Kanmakan set him\ndown; and when he found himself at liberty, he ran to his sword\nand buckler and taking them up, stood plotting in himself\ntreachery and a sudden attack on Kanmakan. The latter read his\nintent in his eye and said to him, \"I know what is in thy mind,\nnow thou hast hold of thy sword and buckler. Thou hast neither\nstrength nor skill for wrestling, but thou thinkest that, wert\nthou on horseback and couldst wheel about and ply me with thy\nsword, I had been slain long ago. But I will give thee thy will,\nso there may be no despite left in thy heart. Give me the buckler\nand fall on me with thy sword; either I shall kill thee or thou\nme.\" \"Here it is,\" answered Subbah and throwing him the shield,\ndrew his sword and rushed at him. Kanmakan took the buckler in\nhis right hand and began to fend himself with it, whilst Subbah\nstruck at him with the sword, saying at each stroke, \"This is\nthe finishing one!\" But Kanmakan received all his blows on his\nbuckler and they fell harmless, though he did not strike back\nagain, having no weapon of offence; and Subbah ceased not to\nsmite at him, till his arm was weary. When the prince saw this,\nhe rushed at him and seizing him in his arms, shook him and threw\nhim to the ground. Then he turned him over on his face and\nbinding his arms behind him with the hangers of his sword, began\nto drag him by the feet towards the river: whereupon cried\nSubbah, \"What wilt thou do with me, O youth and cavalier of the\nage and hero of the field?\" \"Did I not tell thee,\" answered\nKanmakan, \"that it was my intent to send thee by the river to thy\npeople and thy tribe, lest their hearts be troubled for thee and\nthou miss thy cousin's bride-feast?\" At this, Subbah shrieked\naloud and wept and said, \"Do not thus, O champion of the time!\nLet me go and make me one of thy servants.\" And he wept and\nwailed and recited the following verses:\n\nAn outcast from my folk (how long my exile lasts!) am I. Would\n     God I knew if I in this my strangerhood shall die!\nI perish, and my folk know not the place where I am slain; I fall\n     in exile, far away from her for whom I sigh.\n\nKanmakan had compassion on him and said to him, \"Make a covenant\nwith me and swear to be a true comrade to me and to bear me\ncompany whithersoever I may go.\" \"It is well,\" replied Subbah and\ntook the required oath. So Kanmakan loosed him, and he rose and\nwould have kissed the prince's hand; but he forbade him. Then the\nBedouin opened his wallet and taking out three barley-cakes, laid\nthem before Kanmakan, and they both sat down on the bank of the\nstream to eat. When they had done eating, they made the ablution\nand prayed, after which they sat talking of what had befallen\neach of them from his people and the shifts of fortune. Then said\nKanmakan, \"Whither dost thou now intend?\" \"I purpose,\" replied\nSubbah, \"to repair to Baghdad, thy native town, and abide there,\ntill God vouchsafe me the marriage-portion.\" \"Up then,\" rejoined\nthe other, \"and to the road! I abide here.\" So the Bedouin took\nleave of him and set out for Baghdad, whilst Kanmakan remained\nbehind, saying to himself, \"O my soul, how shall I return poor\nand needy? By Allah, I will not go back empty-handed, and if God\nplease, I will assuredly work my deliverance!\" Then he went to\nthe stream and made his ablutions and prayed to his Lord, laying\nhis brow in the dust and saying, \"O my God, Thou that makest the\ndew to fall and feedest the worm in the rock, vouchsafe me, I\nbeseech Thee, my livelihood, of Thy power and the graciousness of\nThy compassion!\" Then he pronounced the salutation that closes\nprayer and sat, turning right and left and knowing not which way\nto take. Presently, he saw, making towards him, a horseman whose\nback was bowed and who let the reins droop. He sat still and\nafter awhile the horseman came up to him, when, behold, he was at\nthe last gasp and made sure of death, for he was grievously\nwounded. The tears streamed down his cheeks, like water from the\nmouths of skins, and he said to Kanmakan, \"O chief of the Arabs,\ntake me to friend, whilst I live, for thou wilt not find my like,\nand give me a little water, harmful though the drinking of water\nbe to a wounded man, especially whilst the blood is flowing and\nthe life with it. If I live, I will give thee what shall heal thy\ndistress and thy poverty; and if I die, mayst thou be blessed for\nthy good intent!\" Now this horseman had under him a stallion of\nthe most generous breed, with legs like shafts of marble, the\ntongue fails to describe it; and when Kanmakan looked at it, he\nwas seized with longing admiration and said in himself, \"Verily,\nthe like of this stallion is not to be found in our time.\" Then\nhe helped the rider to alight and entreated him friendly and gave\nhim a little water to drink; after which he waited till he was\nrested and said to him, \"Who has dealt thus with thee?\" \"I will\ntell thee the truth of the case,\" answered the wounded man. \"I am\na horse-thief and all my life I have occupied myself with\nstealing and snatching horses, night and day, and my name is\nGhessan, surnamed the plague of all stables and horses. I heard\ntell of this stallion, that he was with King Afridoun in the land\nof the Greeks, where they had named him El Catoul and surnamed\nhim El Mejnoun. So I journeyed to Constantinople on his account,\nand whilst I was watching my opportunity to get at him, there\ncame out an old woman, much considered among the Greeks and whose\nword is law with them, a past mistress in all manner of trickery,\nby name Shewahi Dhat ed Dewahi. She had with her this stallion\nand ten slaves, no more, to attend on her and it, and was bound\nfor Baghdad, there to sue for peace and pardon from King Sasan.\nSo I went out in their track, thinking to get the horse, and\nceased not to follow them, but was unable to get at the stallion,\nby reason of the strict guard kept by the slaves, till they\nreached this country and I feared lest they should enter the city\nof Baghdad. As I was casting about to steal the horse, behold, a\ngreat cloud of dust arose and covered the prospect. Presently it\nopened and disclosed fifty horsemen, banded together to waylay\nmerchants and led by a captain by name Kehrdash, like a raging\nlion, yea, in battle a lion that lays heroes flat even as a\ncarpet. They bore down on the old woman and her company, shouting\nand surrounding them, nor was it long before they bound her and\nthe ten slaves and made off with their captives and the horse,\nrejoicing. When I saw this, I said to myself, 'My toil is wasted\nand I have not attained my desire.' However, I waited to see how\nthe affair would result, and when the old woman found herself a\ncaptive, she wept and said to Kehrdash, 'O doughty champion and\ninvincible warrior, what wilt thou do with an old woman and\nslaves, now thou hast thy will of the horse?' And she beguiled\nhim with soft words and promises that she would send him horses\nand cattle, till he released her and her slaves. Then he went his\nway, he and his comrades, and I followed them to this country,\nwatching my opportunity, till at last I succeeded in stealing the\nhorse, whereupon I mounted him and drawing a whip from my wallet,\nstruck him with it. When the robbers heard this, they came out on\nme and surrounded me on all sides and shot arrows and cast spears\nat me, whilst I stuck fast on the horse's back and he defended me\nwith his hoofs, till at last he shot out with me from amongst\nthem, like an arrow from the bow or a shooting star, after I had\ngotten a grievous wound in the press of the battle. Since that\ntime, I have passed three days in the saddle, without tasting\nfood or sleep, so that my strength is wasted and the world is\nbecome of no account to me. But thou hast dealt kindly with me\nand hast had pity on me: and I see thee naked of body and\nsorrowful of aspect; yet are the marks of gentle breeding\nmanifest on thee. So tell me, what and whence art thou and\nwhither art thou bound?\" \"My name is Kanmakan,\" answered the\nprince, \"son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. My\nfather died, and a base man seized the throne after his death and\nbecame king over great and small.\" Then he told him all his story\nfrom first to last; and the thief said to him, (and indeed he had\ncompassion on him), \"By Allah, thou art a man of great account\nand exceeding nobility and thou shalt surely win to high estate\nand become the first cavalier of thy time! If thou canst lift me\ninto the saddle and mount behind me and bring me to my country,\nthou shalt have honour in this world and a reward on the Day of\ncalling of men one to another;[FN#155] for I have no strength\nleft to hold myself in the saddle; and if I die by the way, the\nsteed is thine; for thou art worthier of it than any other.\" \"By\nAllah,\" said Kanmakan, \"if I could carry thee on my shoulders or\nshare my life with thee, I would do so, without the horse! For I\nam of those that love to do good and succour the afflicted. So\nmake ready to set out and put thy trust in the Subtle, the\nAll-Wise.\" And he would have lifted him on to the horse and set\nforward, trusting in God the Succourable. But the robber said,\n\"Wait for me a little.\" Then he closed his eyes and opening his\nhands, said, \"I testify that there is no god but God and that\nMohammed is the Apostle of God! O Glorious One, pardon me my\nmortal sin, for none can pardon mortal sins save Thou!\" And he\nmade ready for death and recited the following verses:\n\nI've ranged through all countries, oppressing mankind, And in\n     drinking of wine I have wasted my days.\nI've waded through torrents, the horses to steal And I've used\n     with my guile the high places to raze.\nMy case is right grievous and great is my guilt, And Catoul,\n     alas! is the end of my ways.\nI hoped of this horse I should get my desire; But vain was my\n     journey and vain my essays.\nAll my life I have stolen the steeds, and my death Was decreed of\n     the Lord of all power and all praise.\nSo, in fine, for the good of the stranger, the poor, The orphan,\n     I've wearied in toils and affrays.\n\nWhen he had finished, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth;\nthen giving one sob, he departed this life. Kanmakan rose and dug\na grave and laid him in the earth. Then he went up to the\nstallion and kissed it and wiped its face and rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy, saying, \"None has the like of this horse, no, not\neven King Sasan.\" So much for Kanmakan.\n\nMeanwhile, news came to King Sasan that the Vizier Dendan and\nhalf the army had thrown off their allegiance to him and sworn\nthat they would have no king but Kanmakan and the Vizier had\nbound the troops by a solemn covenant and had gone with them to\nthe islands of India and Ethiopia, where he had gathered together\na host like the swollen sea, none could tell its van from its\nrear. Moreover, he was resolved to make for Baghdad and possess\nhimself of the kingdom and slay all who should let him, having\nsworn not to return the sword of war to its sheath, till he had\nset Kanmakan on the throne. When this news came to Sasan, he was\ndrowned in the sea of melancholy, knowing that the whole state\nhad furled against him, great and small, and trouble and anxiety\nwere sore on him. So he opened his treasuries and distributed\nthat which was therein among his officers and prayed for\nKanmakan's return, that he might draw his heart to him with fair\nusage and bounty and make him commander of those troops that\nremained faithful to him, hoping thus to prop his [falling]\npower. The news of this reached Kanmakan by the merchants; so he\nreturned in haste to Baghdad, riding on the aforesaid stallion,\nand the news of his coming reached King Sasan, as he sat\nperplexed upon his throne; whereupon he despatched all the troops\nand head-men of Baghdad to meet him. So all who were in Baghdad\nwent out to meet the Prince and escorted him to the palace and\nkissed the threshold, whilst the damsels and eunuchs went in to\nhis mother and gave her the good tidings of his return. She came\nto him and kissed him between the eyes, but he said to her, \"O my\nmother, let me go to my uncle King Sasan, who hath overwhelmed us\nwith favours and benefits.\" Then he repaired to the palace,\nwhilst all the people marvelled at the beauty of the stallion and\nsaid, \"No king is like unto this man.\" So he went in to King\nSasan, who rose to receive him; and Kanmakan saluted him and\nkissing his hands, offered him the horse as a present. The King\nbade him welcome, saying, \"Welcome and fair welcome to my son\nKanmakan! By Allah, the world hath been straitened on me by\nreason of thine absence, but praised be God for thy safety!\" And\nKanmakan called down blessings on him. Then the King looked at\nthe stallion and knowing it for the very horse, Catoul by name,\nthat he had seen in such and such a year, whilst at the leaguer\nof Constantinople with King Zoulmekan, said to Kanmakan, \"I! thy\nfather could have come by this horse, he would have bought him\nwith a thousand chargers of price: but now let the honour return\nto thee who deservest it. We accept the steed and return it to\nthee as a gift, for thou hast more right to it than any man\nalive, being the prince of cavaliers.\" Then he bade bring forth\nfor him dresses of honour and led horses and appointed him the\nchief lodging in the palace, giving him much money and showing\nhim the utmost honour, for that he feared the issue of the Vizier\nDendan's doings. At this Kanmakan rejoiced and despondency and\nhumiliation ceased from him. Then he went to his house and said\nto his mother, \"O my mother, how is it with my cousin?\" \"By\nAllah, O my son,\" answered she, \"my concern for thine absence\nhath distracted me from any other, even to thy beloved;\nespecially as she was the cause of thine exile and separation\nfrom me.\" Then he complained to her of his sufferings, saying, \"O\nmy mother, go to her and speak with her; haply she will favour me\nwith a sight of her and dispel my anguish.\" \"O my son,\" replied\nhis mother, \"idle desires abase the necks of men; so put away\nfrom thee this thought that will but lead to vexation; for I will\nnot go to her nor carry her such a message.\" Thereupon he told\nher what he had heard from the horse-thief concerning Dhat ed\nDewahi, how she was then in their land, on her way to Baghdad,\nand added, \"It was she who slew my uncle and grandfather, and\nneeds must I avenge them and wipe out our reproach.\" Then he left\nher and repaired to an old woman, by name Saadaneh, a cunning,\nperfidious and pernicious beldam, past mistress in all kinds of\ntrickery and deceit To her he complained of what he suffered for\nlove of his cousin Kuzia Fekan and begged her to go to her and\nimplore her favour for him. \"I hear and obey,\" answered the old\nwoman and betaking herself to Kuzia Fekan's palace, interceded\nwith her in his favour. Then she returned to him and said, \"Thy\ncousin salutes thee and will visit thee this night at the middle\nhour.\" At this he rejoiced and sat down to await the fulfilment\nof his cousin's promise. At the appointed hour she came to him,\nwrapped in a veil of black silk, and aroused him from sleep,\nsaying, \"How canst thou pretend to love me, when thou art\nsleeping, heart-free, after the goodliest fashion?\" So he awoke\nand said, \"O desire of my heart, by Allah, I slept not but hoping\nthat thine image might visit me in dreams!\" Then she chid him\ntenderly and repeated the following verses:\n\nWert thou indeed a lover true and leal, Thou hadst not suffered\n     slumber on thee creep.\nO thou who feign'st to walk the ways of love, The watch of\n     passion and desire to keep,\nSon of my uncle, sure the eyes of those Who're love-distraught\n     know not the taste of sleep.\n\nWhen he heard his cousin's words, he was abashed before her and\nrose and excused himself. Then they embraced and complained to\neach other of the anguish of separation; and thus they did, till\nthe dawn broke and the day flowered forth over the lands; when\nshe rose to depart. At this, Kanmakan wept and sighed and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nShe came to me, after her pride had driven me to despair, She in\n     whose lips the teeth as the pearls of her necklace were.\nI kissed her a thousand times and clipped her close in my arms\n     And lay all night with my cheek pressed close to the cheek\n     of the fair;\nTill the day, that must sever our loves, as 'twere the blade of a\n     sword That flashes forth of its sheath, gleamed out on us\n     unaware.\n\nThen she took leave of him and returned to her palace. Now she\nlet certain of her damsels into her secret, and one of them told\nthe King, who went in to Kuzia Fekan and drawing his sabre upon\nher, would have slain her: but her mother Nuzhet ez Zeman entered\nand said to him, 'By Allah, do her no hurt, lest it be noised\namong the folk and thou become a reproach among the kings of the\nage! Thou knowest that Kanmakan is no base-born wretch, but a man\nof honour and nobility, who would not do aught that could shame\nhim, and she was reared with him. So take patience and be not\nhasty; for verily the report is spread abroad, among the people\nof the palace and all the folk of the city, how the Vizier Dendan\nhath levied troops from all countries and is on his way hither to\nmake Kanmakan king.\" \"By Allah,\" said the King, \"needs must I\ncast him into a calamity, such that neither earth shall bear him\nnor sky shadow him! I did but speak him fair and entreat him with\nfavour, because of my subjects and officers, lest they should\nturn to him; but thou shalt see what will betide.\" Then he left\nher and went out to order the affairs of the kingdom.\n\nNext day, Kanmakan came in to his mother and said to her, \"O my\nmother, I am resolved to go forth a-raiding in quest of booty. I\nwill waylay caravans and seize horses and flocks and slaves black\nand white, and as soon as my store is waxed great and my case is\nbettered, I will demand my cousin Kuzia Fekan in marriage of my\nuncle.\" \"O my son,\" replied she, \"of a truth the goods of men are\nnot as a wastril camel, ready to thy hand; but between thee and\nthem are sword-strokes and lance-thrusts and men that eat wild\nbeasts and lay waste countries and snare lions and trap lynxes.\"\nQuoth he, \"God forbid that I should turn from my purpose, till I\nhave attained my desire!\" Then he despatched the old woman to\nKuzia Fekan, to tell her that he was about to set out in quest of\na dowry befitting her, saying, \"Thou must without fail bring me\nan answer from her.\" \"I hear and obey,\" repled the old woman and\ngoing forth, presently returned with Kuzia Fekan's answer, which\nwas that she would come to him at midnight. So he abode awake\ntill one half of the night was past, when disquietude got hold on\nhim, and before he was aware, she came in to him, saying, \"My\nlife be thy ransom from wakefulness!\" And he sprang up to receive\nher, exclaiming, \"O desire of my heart, my life be thy ransom\nfrom all things evil!\" Then he acquainted her with his intent,\nand she wept; but he said, \"Weep not, O my cousin; for I beseech\nHim who decreed our separation to vouchsafe us reunion and\nfelicity.\" Then Kanmakan went in to his mother and took leave of\nher, after which he girt on his sword and donned turban and\nchin-band and mounting his horse Catoul, rode through the streets\nof Baghdad, till he reached the gate of the city. Here he found\nhis comrade Subbah ben Remmah going out, who, seeing him, ran to\nhis stirrup and saluted him. He returned his greeting, and Subbah\nsaid to him, \"O my brother, how camest thou by this steed and\nsword and clothes, whilst I up to now have gotten nothing but my\nsword and target?\" Quoth Kanmakan, \"The hunter returns not but\nwith game after the measure of his intent. A little after thy\ndeparture, fortune came to me: so now wilt thou go with me and\nwork thine intent in my company and journey with me in this\ndesert?\" \"By the Lord of the Kaabeh,\" replied Subbah, \"from this\ntime forth I will call thee nought but 'My lord!'\" Then he ran on\nbefore the horse with his sword hanging from his neck and his\nbudget between his shoulder-blades, and they pushed on into the\ndesert four days' space, eating of the gazelles they caught and\ndrinking of the water of the springs. On the fifth day, they came\nin sight of a high hill, at whose foot was a Spring encampment\nand a running stream. The knolls and hollows were filled with\ncamels and oxen and sheep and horses, and little children played\nabout the cattle-folds. When Kanmakan saw this, he was right glad\nand his breast was filled with joy; so he addressed himself to\nbattle, that he might take the camels and the cattle, and said to\nSubbah, \"Come, let us fall upon this good, whose owners have left\nit unguarded, and do battle for it with near and far, so haply it\nmay fall to our lot and we will share it between us.\" \"O my\nlord,\" replied Subbah, \"verily they to whom these herds belong\nare much people, and among them are doughty horsemen and footmen.\nIf we cast ourselves into this great danger, neither of us will\nreturn to his people; but we shall both be cut off utterly and\nleave our cousins desolate.\" When Kanmakan heard this, he laughed\nand knew that he was a coward: so he left him and rode down the\nhill, intent on rapine, shouting and chanting aloud the following\nverses:\n\nO the house of En Numan is mickle of might! We're the champions\n     with swords on the squadrons that smite!\nWhen the fury of battle flames high in our hearts, We're aye to\n     be found in the front of the fight.\nThe poor man amongst us may slumber secure Nor see the foul\n     favour of want or upright.\nI hope for the succour of Him in whose hand Is the Kingdom, the\n     Maker of body and spright.\n\nThen he rushed upon the cattle, like a camel in heat, and drove\nthem all, oxen and sheep and horses and camels, before him.\nTherewith the slaves ran at him with their bright swords and\ntheir long lances; and at their head was a Turkish horseman, a\nstout champion, doughty in battle and onset and skilled to wield\nthe tawny spear and the white sabre. He drove at Kanmakan,\nsaying, \"Out on thee! Knewest thou to whom these cattle belong,\nthou hadst not done this thing! Know that they are the good of\nthe Greek band, the champions of the sea and the Circassian\ntroop, and they are a hundred cavaliers, all stern warriors, who\nhave forsworn the commandment of all kings. There has been stolen\nfrom them a steed of great price, and they have vowed not to\nreturn hence, but with it.\" When Kanmakan heard these words, he\ncried out, saying, \"O losers, this that I bestride is the steed\nitself, after which ye seek and for whose sake ye would do battle\nwith me! So come out against me, all of you at once, and do your\ndourest!\" So saying, he cried out between Catoul's ears and he\nran at them, as he were a ghoul. Then Kanmakan drove at the Turk\nand smote him and overthrew him and let out his life; after which\nhe turned upon a second and a third and a fourth and bereft them\nalso of life. When the slaves saw this, they were afraid of him,\nand he cried out and said to them, \"Ho, sons of whores, drive out\nthe cattle and the horses, or I will dye my spear in your blood!\"\nSo they untethered the cattle and began to drive them out, and\nSubbah came down to Kanmakan, crying out with a loud voice and\nrejoicing greatly; when, behold, there arose a cloud of dust and\ngrew till it covered the prospect, and there appeared under it a\nhundred cavaliers, like fierce lions. With this Subbah fled up on\nto the hill, that he might gaze upon the fight in safety, saying,\n\"I am no warrior but in sport and jest.\" Then the hundred\ncavaliers made towards Kanmakan from all sides, and one of them\naccosted him, saying, \"Whither goest thou with this good?\" \"I\nhave made prize of them,\" replied he, \"and am carrying them away;\nand I forbid you from them, for know that he who is before you is\na terrible lion and an illustrious champion and a sword that cuts\nwherever it turns!\" When the horseman heard this, he looked at\nKanmakan and saw that he was a cavalier as he were a strong lion,\nwhilst his face was as the full moon rising on its fourteenth\nnight, and valour shone from between his eyes. Now this horseman\nwas the chief of the hundred horse, and his name was Kehrdash;\nand what he saw in Kanmakan of the perfection of martial grace,\ntogether with surpassing beauty and comeliness, reminded him of a\nmistress of his, by name Fatin. Now this Fatin was one of the\nfairest of women in face, for God had given her beauty and grace\nand charms and noble qualities of all kinds, such as the tongue\nfails to describe. Moreover, the cavaliers of the tribe feared\nher prowess and the champions of the land stood in awe of her,\nand she had sworn that she would not marry nor give any\npossession of her, except he should conquer her, saying to her\nfather, \"None shall approach me, except he master me in the field\nand the stead of war.\" Kehrdash was one of her suitors, and when\nthe news reached him of the vow she had taken, he thought scorn\nto fight with a girl, fearing reproach; and one of his friends\nsaid to him, \"Thou art accomplished in beauty and manly\nqualities; so if thou contend with her, even though she be\nstronger than thou, thou must needs overcome her, for when she\nsees thy beauty and grace, she will be discomfited before thee,\nseeing that women by nature incline unto men, as is not unknown\nto thee.\" Nevertheless he refused and would not contend with her,\nalbeit indeed she loved him, for what she had heard of his beauty\nand velour: and he ceased not to abstain from her thus, till he\nmet with Kanmakan, as hath been set down. Now he took the prince\nfor his beloved Fatin and was afraid; so he went up to him and\nsaid, \"Out on thee, O Fatin! Thou comest to show me thy prowess;\nbut now alight from thy steed, that I may talk with thee, for I\nhave driven off these cattle and waylaid horsemen and champions,\nall for the sake of thy beauty and grace, which are without peer.\nSo now thou shalt marry me, that kings' daughters may wait on\nthee, and thou shalt become queen of these countries.\" When\nKanmakan heard this, the fires of wrath flamed up in him and he\ncried out, saying, \"Out on thee, O dog of the barbarians! Leave\nthy raving of Fatin and come to cutting and thrusting, for\neftsoon thou shalt lie in the dust.\" So saying, he began to wheel\nabout him and offer battle. Then Kehrdash observed him more\nclosely and saw that he was indeed a doughty knight and a\nstalwart champion; and the error of his thought was manifest to\nhim, whenas he saw the tender down that adorned his cheeks, as it\nwere myrtles springing from the heart of a red rose. And he\nfeared his onslaught and said to those that were with him, \"Out\non you! Let one of you attack him and show him the keen sword and\nthe quivering spear; for know that for a company to do battle\nwith one man is foul shame, even though he be a doughty man of\nwar and an invincible champion.\" With this, there ran at Kanmakan\na lion-like horseman, mounted on a black horse with white feet\nand a star on his forehead, the bigness of a dirhem, astounding\nsight and wit, as he were Abjer, that was Antar's steed: even as\nsaith of him the poet:\n\nSee, where the stallion yonder comes, that with a fierce delight\n     Drives to the battle, mingling earth with heaven in his\n     might.\nMeseems, the morning smote his brow and to avenge himself\n     Thereon, he plunges straight and deep into its heart of\n     light.\n\nHe rushed upon Kanmakan, who met him in mid-career, and they\nwheeled about awhile in the dint of battle, exchanging blows such\nas confound the wit and dim the sight, till Kanmakan took the\nother at vantage and smote him a swashing blow, that shore\nthrough turban and iron skull-cap and reached his head, and he\nfell from his saddle, as a camel falls, when he rolls over. Then\na second came out to him and a third and a fourth and a fifth,\nand he did with them all as he had done with the first. Thereupon\nthe rest rushed upon him, all at once, for indeed they were wild\nwith rage and concern; but it was not long before he had\ntransfixed them all with the point of his lance. When Kehrdash\nsaw his feats of arms, he knew that he was stout of heart and\nconcluded that he was the phoenix of the champions and heroes of\nthe age: so he feared death and said to Kanmakan, \"I give thee\nthy life and pardon thee the blood of my comrades, for I have\ncompassion on thee by reason of thy fair youth. So take what thou\nwilt of the cattle and go thy ways, for life is better for thee\n[than death].\" \"Thou lackest not of the generosity of the\nnoble,\"[FN#156] replied Kanmakan; \"but leave this talk and flee\nfor thy life and reck not of blame nor think to get back the\nbooty; but take the straight path for thine own safety.\" When\nKehrdash heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and his anger moved\nhim to that which was the cause of his death; so he said to\nKanmakan, \"Out on thee! Knewest thou who I am, thou wouldst not\ntalk thus in the open field. I am the doughty lion known as\nKehrdash, he who despoils great kings and waylays all the\ntravellers and seizes the merchants' goods. Yonder steed under\nthee is what I am seeking and I call upon thee to tell me how\nthou camest by it.\" \"Know,\" replied Kanmakan, \"that this steed\nwas being carried to my uncle King Sasan in the company of a\ncertain old woman, attended by ten slaves, when thou fellest upon\nher and tookest the horse from her; and I have a debt of blood\nagainst this old woman for the sake of my grandfather King Omar\nben Ennuman and my uncle King Sherkan.\" \"Out on thee!\" said\nKehrdash. \"Who is thy father, O thou that hast no (known)\nmother?\" \"Know,\" answered the prince, \"that I am Kanmakan, son of\nZoulmekan, son of Omar ben Ennuman.\" Quoth Kehrdash, \"Thy\nperfection cannot be denied, nor yet the union in thee of martial\nvirtue and comeliness: but go in peace, for thy father showed us\nfavour and bounty.\" \"By Allah, O vile wretch,\" rejoined Kanmakan,\n\"I will not so far honour thee as to overcome thee in the open\nfield!\" At this the Bedouin was wroth and they drove at one\nanother, shouting aloud, whilst their horses pricked up their\nears and raised their tails. They clashed together with such a\ndint, that it seemed to each as if the heavens were split in\nsunder, and strove like two butting rams, smiting one another\nwith thick-coming spear-strokes. Presently, Kehrdash aimed a blow\nat Kanmakan; but he evaded it and turning upon the brigand, smote\nhim in the breast, that the head of the spear issued from his\nback. Then he collected the horses and cattle and cried out to\nthe slaves, saying, \"Up and drive them off briskly!\" With this\ndown came Subbah and accosting Kanmakan, said to him, \"Thou hast\nquitted thee right well, O hero of the age! I prayed God for thee\nand He heard my prayer.\" Then he cut off Kehrdash's head and\nKanmakan laughed and said, \"Out on thee, Subbah! I thought thee a\nman of valour.\" Quoth the Bedouin, \"Forget not thy slave in the\ndivision of the spoil, so haply I may win therewith to marry my\ncousin Nejmeh.\" \"Thou shalt surely have a share in it,\" answered\nKanmakan, \"but now keep watch over the booty and the slaves.\"\nThen they set out and journeyed night and day till they drew near\nBaghdad, and all the troops heard of Kanmakan and saw the booty\nand the brigand's head on the point of Subbah's spear. Moreover,\nthe merchants knew Kehrdash's head and rejoiced, for he was a\nnoted highwayman, saying, \"Allah hath rid mankind of him!\" And\nthey marvelled at his death and called down blessings on his\nslayer. Then all the people of Baghdad came to Kanmakan, seeking\nto know what had befallen him, and he told them what had passed,\nwhereupon they were taken with awe of him and all the champions\nand men of war feared him. After this, he drove his spoil to the\npalace and planting the spear, on which was Kehrdash's head,\nbefore the gate, gave largesse to the people of camels and horses\nso that they loved him and all hearts inclined to him. Then he\ntook Subbah and lodged him in a spacious dwelling, giving him\npart of the booty; after which he went in to his mother and told\nher all that had befallen him. Meanwhile the news of him reached\nthe King, who rose and shutting himself up with his chief\nofficers, said to them, \"I wish to reveal to you my secret and\nacquaint you with the truth of my case. Know that Kanmakan will\nbe the cause of our expulsion from the kingdom; for he has slain\nKehrdash, albeit he had with him the tribes of the Turks and the\nKurds, and our affair with him will assuredly result in our\ndestruction, seeing that the most part of our troops are his\nkinsmen and ye know what the Vizier Dendan hath done; how he\nrefuses to recognize me, after all the favours I have done him,\nand is become a traitor to his faith. Indeed, it has come to my\nknowledge that he hath levied an army in the provinces and goeth\nabout to make Kanmakan king, for that the kingdom was his\nfather's and his grandfather's before him, and he will surely\nslay me without mercy.\" When they heard this, they replied, \"O\nKing, verily he[FN#157] is unequal to this, and did we not know\nhim to have been reared by thee, not one of us would take thought\nto him. We are at thy commandment; if thou wilt have us slay him,\nwe will do so, and if thou wilt have him kept at a distance, we\nwill chase him away.\" When King Sasan heard this, he said,\n\"Verily, it were wise to slay him: but needs must ye take an oath\nof it.\" So they all pledged themselves to kill him, to the intent\nthat, when the Vizier Dendan came and heard of his death, his\nmight should be weakened and fail of that which he designed to\ndo. When they had made this compact with him, the King bestowed\ngreat gifts upon them and dismissing them, retired to his own\napartments. Now the troops refused their service, awaiting what\nshould befall, for they saw that the most part of the army was\nwith the Vizier Dendan. Presently, the news of these things came\nto Kuzia Fekan and caused her much concern; so that she sent for\nthe old woman, who was wont to carry messages between her and her\ncousin, and bade her go to him and warn him of the plot against\nhis life. Accordingly, she repaired to Kanmakan and gave him the\nprincess's message, to which he replied, \"Bear my cousin my\nsalutation and say to her, 'The earth is God's (to whom belong\nmight and majesty), and He maketh whom He willeth of His servants\nto inherit it. How excellent is the saying of the poet:\n\nThe kingship is God's alone, and him who would fain fulfil His\n     wishes He driveth away and maketh him rue for his ill.\nHad I or another than I a handsbreadth of earth to my own, The\n     Godship were sundered in twain and two were the Power and\n     the Will.'\"\n\nThe old woman returned to Kuzia Fekan with Kanmakan's reply and\ntold her that he abode in the city. Meanwhile, King Sasan awaited\nhis going forth from Baghdad, that he might send after him and\nkill him; till, one day, it befell that Kanmakan went out to\nhunt, accompanied by Subbah, who would not leave him day or\nnight. He caught ten gazelles and among them one that had soft\nblack eyes and turned right and left; so he let her go, and\nSubbah said to him, \"Why didst thou let her go?\" Kanmakan laughed\nand set the others free also, saying, \"It behoves us, of\nhumanity, to release gazelles that have young, and this one only\nturned from side to side, to look for her young ones: so I let\nher go and released the others in her honour.\" Quoth Subbah, \"Do\nthou release me, that I may go to my people.\" At this Kanmakan\nlaughed and smote him on the breast with the butt of his spear,\nand he fell to the ground, writhing like a serpent. Whilst they\nwere thus occupied, they saw cloud of dust and heard the tramp of\nhorse; and presently there appeared a troop of armed cavaliers.\nNow King Sasan had heard of Kanmakan's going out and sending for\nan Amir of the Medes, called Jami, and twenty men, had given them\nmoney and bidden them slay Kanmakan. So, when they drew near the\nprince, they rushed at him and he met them in mid-career and\nkilled them all, to the last man. Meanwhile the King took horse\nand riding out to meet his men, found them all slain, whereat he\nwondered and turned back; but the people of the city laid hands\non him and bound him straitly. As for Kanmakan, he left that\nplace behind him and rode onward with Subbah. As he went, he saw\na youth sitting at the door of a house in his road and saluted\nhim. The youth returned his greeting and going into the house,\nbrought out two platters, one full of milk and the other of\nbrewis swimming in (clarified) butter, which he set before\nKanmakan, saying, \"Favour me by eating of my victual.\" But he\nrefused and the young man said to him, \"What ails thee, O man,\nthat thou wilt not eat?\" \"I have a vow upon me,\" replied the\nprince. \"What is the cause of thy vow?\" asked the youth, and\nKanmakan answered, \"Know that King Sasan seized upon my kingdom\nwrongfully and oppressively, albeit it was my father's and my\ngrandfather's before me; yet he laid hands upon the throne by\nforce, after my father's death, and took no count of me, for that\nI was of tender years. So I have bound myself by a vow to eat no\nman's victual, till I have eased my heart of my enemy.\"\n\"Rejoice,\" rejoined the youth, \"for God hath fulfilled thy vow.\nKnow that he is in prison and methinks he will soon die.\" \"In\nwhat house is he imprisoned?\" asked Kanmakan. \"In yonder high\npavilion,\" answered the other. The prince looked and saw the folk\nentering and buffeting Sasan, who was suffering the agonies of\ndeath. So he went up to the pavilion and noted what was therein;\nafter which he returned to his place and sitting down to meat,\nate what sufficed him and put the rest in his budget. Then he\nwaited till it was dark night. And the youth, whose guest he was,\nslept; when he rose and repaired to the pavilion in which Sasan\nwas confined. Now about it were dogs, guarding it, and one of\nthem ran at him; so he took out of his wallet a piece of meat and\nthrew it to him. He ceased not to do thus, till he came to the\npavilion and making his way to the place where Sasan was, laid\nhis hand upon his head; whereupon he said in a loud voice, \"Who\nart thou?\" \"I am Kanmakan,\" replied the prince, \"whom thou\nwentest about to kill; but God made thee fall into the evil\nthyself hadst devised. Did it not suffice thee to take my kingdom\nand that of my father, but thou must go about to kill me?\" And\nSasan swore a vain oath that he had not plotted his death and\nthat the report was untrue. So Kanmakan forgave him and said to\nhim, \"Follow me.\" Quoth he, \"I cannot walk a single step for\nweakness.\" \"If the case be thus,\" replied Kanmakan, \"we will get\nus two horses and ride forth and seek the open country.\" So they\ntook horse and rode till daybreak, when they prayed the\nmorning-prayer and fared on till they came to a garden, where\nthey sat down and talked awhile. Then Kanmakan rose and said to\nSasan, \"Is there aught of bitterness left in thy heart against\nme?\" \"No, by Allah!\" replied Sasan. So they agreed to return to\nBaghdad and Subbah the Bedouin said, \"I will go on before you, to\ngive the folk notice of your coming.\" Then he rode on in advance,\nacquainting men and women with the news; so all the people came\nout to meet Kanmakan with tabrets and flutes; and Kuzia Fekan\nalso came out, like the full moon shining in all her splendour in\nthe thick darkness of the night. Kanmakan met her, and their\nhearts yearned each to each and their bodies longed one for the\nother. There was no talk among the people of the time but of\nKanmakan; for the cavaliers bore witness of him that he was the\nmost valiant of the folk of the age and said, \"It is not just\nthat other than he should be King over us; but the throne of his\ngrandfather shall revert to him as it was.\" Meanwhile King Sasan\nwent in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, who said to him, \"I hear\nthat the folk talk of nothing but Kanmakan and attribute to him\nsuch qualities as beggar description.\" \"Hearing is not like\nseeing,\" replied the King; \"I have seen him, but have noted in\nhim not one of the attributes of perfection. Not all that is\nheard is said; but the folk ape one another in extolling and\ncherishing him, and God makes his praise to run on the lips of\nmen, so that there incline to him the hearts of the people of\nBaghdad and of the perfidious traitor the Vizier Dendan, who has\nlevied troops from all countries and arrogates to himself the\nright of naming a king of the country and chooses that it shall\nbe under the hand of a worthless orphan.\" \"What then dost thou\npurpose to do?\" asked Nuzhet ez Zeman. \"I mean to kill him,\"\nreplied the King, \"that the Vizier may be baulked of his intent\nand return to his allegiance to me, seeing nothing for it but my\nservice.\" Quoth she, \"Perfidy is a foul thing with strangers, and\nhow much more with kinsfolk? Thou wouldst do better to marry him\nto thy daughter Kuzia Fekan and give heed to what was said of old\ntime:\n\nIf Fate set over thee a man, though thou than he Be worthier and\n     this be grievous unto thee,\nYield him the honour due to his estate; thou'lt find He will\n     advantage thee, though near or far thou be.\nSpeak not thy thought of him; else wilt thou be of those Who of\n     their own accord the way of weal do flee.\nMany in the harem oft are brighter than the bride; But time is on\n     her side, and opportunity.\"\n\nWhen Sasan heard this, he rose in anger and said to her, \"Were it\nnot that to kill thee would bring disgrace and reproach on me, I\nwould take off thy head with my sword and make an end of thee.\"\nQuoth she, \"I did but jest with thee.\" And rose and kissed his\nhead and hands, saying, \"Thou art right, and we will cast about\nfor some means to kill him.\" When he heard this, he was glad and\nsaid, \"Make haste and contrive some device to relieve me of my\naffliction; for I am at my wit's end.\" Said she, \"I will make\nshift to do away his life for thee.\" \"How so?\" asked he; and she\nanswered, \"By means of our female slave Bakoun.\" Now this Bakoun\nwas past mistress in all kinds of knavery and was one of the most\npernicious of old women, in whose religion it was not lawful to\nabstain from wickedness; she had brought up Kanmakan and Kuzia\nFekan, and the former had her in so great affection, that he was\nwont to sleep at her feet. So when King Sasan heard his wife name\nher, he said, \"This is a good counsel,\" and sending for the old\nwoman, told her what had passed and bade go about to kill\nKanmakan, promising her all good. \"O my lord,\" replied she, \"thy\ncommandment shall be done: but I would have thee give me a dagger\nthat has been tempered in water of dearth,[FN#158] that I may\ndespatch him the quicklier for thee.\" \"So be it,\" said Sasan and\ngave her a knife that would well-nigh forego destiny. Now this\nwoman had heard stories and verses and committed to memory great\nstore of witty traits and anecdotes: so she took the dagger and\nwent out, considering how she should compass Kanmakan's\ndestruction. Then she repaired to the prince, whom she found\nsitting awaiting [the coming of a messenger with] his cousin's\ntryst; so that night his thought was taken up with Kuzia Fekan\nand the fires of love for her raged in his heart. Bakoun went in\nto him, saying, \"The time of union is at hand and the days of\nseparation are over and gone.\" When he heard this, he said, \"How\nis it with Kuzia Fekan?\" And she answered, \"Know that she is\ndistraught for love of thee.\" At this he rose and taking off his\n[upper] clothes, put them on her and promised her all good. Then\nsaid she, \"Know that I mean to pass this night with thee, that I\nmay repeat to thee what talk I have heard and divert thee with\ntales of many a slave of love, whom passion hath made sick.\"\nQuoth he, \"Tell me a story, that will gladden my heart and dispel\nmy cares.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered she and sitting down\nbeside him, with the dagger under her clothes, began thus, \"The\npleasantest thing I ever heard was as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\nBakoun's Story of the Hashish-eater.\n\n\n\n\nA certain man loved the fair and spent his substance on them,\ntill he became a beggar and used to go about the streets and\nmarkets, seeking his bread. One day, as he went along, a splinter\nof iron pierced his finger and made it bleed; so he sat down and\nwiping away the blood, bound up his finger. Then he went on,\ncrying out, till he came to a bath, and entering found it clean\n(and empty). So he took off his clothes and sitting down by the\nbasin, fell to pouring water on his head, till he was tired, when\nhe went out to the room in which was the tank of cold water.\nFinding none there, he shut himself up [in a cabinet] and taking\nout a piece of hashish, swallowed it. The fumes of the drug\nspread through his brain and he rolled over on to the marble\nfloor. Then the hashish made it appear to him as if a great lord\nwere kneading him and as if two slaves stood at his head, one\nbearing a bowl and the other washing gear and all the requisites\nof the bath. When he saw this, he said to himself, 'Meseems these\nare mistaken in me; or else they are of the company of us\nhashish-eaters.' Then he stretched out his legs and it seemed to\nhim that the bathman said to him, 'O my lord, the time of thy\ngoing forth draws near and it is to-day thy turn of service (at\nthe palace).' At this he laughed and said, 'As God wills, O\nhashish!' Then he sat and said nothing, whilst the bathman took\nhim by the hand and raising him up, girt his middle with a\nwaist-cloth of black silk, after which the two slaves followed\nhim, with the bowls and implements, till they brought him into a\ncabinet, wherein they set perfumes burning. He found the place\nfull of various kinds of fruits and sweet-scented flowers, and\nthey cut him a melon and seated him on a stool of ebony, whilst\nthe bathman stood to wash him and the slaves poured water on him;\nafter which they rubbed him down well and said, 'O our lord the\nVizier, may the bath profit thee and mayst thou come to delight\neverlasting!' Then they went out and shut the door on him; and he\ntook up the waist-cloth and laughed till he well-nigh lost his\nsenses. He gave not over laughing for some time and saying to\nhimself, 'What ails them to bespeak me as if I were a Vizier and\nstyle me \"Master\" and \"our lord\"? Surely they are dreaming now;\nbut presently they will know me and say, \"This fellow is a\nbeggar,\" and take their fill of cuffing me on the nape of the\nneck.' Presently, he felt hot and opened the door, whereupon it\nseemed to him that a little white slave and an eunuch entered,\ncarrying a parcel. The slave opened the parcel and brought out\nthree kerchiefs of silk, one of which he threw over his head, a\nsecond over his shoulders, and a third he tied round his waist.\nMoreover, the eunuch gave him a pair of bath-clogs, and he put\nthem on; after which in came eunuchs and slaves and supported\nhim, laughing the while, to the outer hall, which he found hung\nand spread with magnificent furniture, such as beseems none but\nkings; and the pages hastened up to him and seated him on the\ndivan. Then they fell to kneading him, till sleep overcame him\nand he dreamt that he had a girl in his arms. So he kissed her\nand set her between his thighs; then, clipping her as a man clips\na woman, took his yard in his hand and was about to have at her,\nwhen he heard one saying to him, 'Awake, thou good-for-nought!\nThe hour of noon is come and thou art still asleep.' He opened\nhis eyes and found himself lying on the merge of the cold-water\ntank, with a crowd of people about him, laughing at him; for the\nnapkin was fallen from his middle and discovered his yard in\npoint. So he knew that all this was but an imbroglio of dreams\nand an illusion of hashish and was vexed and said to him who had\naroused him, 'Would thou hadst waited till I had put it in!' Then\nsaid the folk, 'Art thou not ashamed, O hashish-eater, and thou\nlying asleep and naked, with thy yard on end?' And they cuffed\nhim, till the nape of his neck was red. Now he was starving, yet\nhad he tasted the savour of delight in sleep.\"\n\n\nWhen Kanmakan heard this story, he laughed till he fell backward\nand said to Bakoun, \"O my nurse, this is indeed a rare story; I\nnever heard its like. Hast thou any more?\" \"Yes,\" answered she\nand went on to tell him diverting stories and laughable\nanecdotes, till sleep overcame him. Then she sat by him till the\nmost part of the night was past, when she said to herself, \"It is\ntime to profit by the occasion.\" So she unsheathed the dagger and\ndrawing near to Kanmakan, was about to slaughter him, when,\nbehold, in came his mother. When Bakoun saw her, she rose to meet\nher, and fear got hold on her and she fell a-trembling, as if she\nhad the ague. The princess mother marvelled to see her thus and\naroused her son, who awoke and found her sitting at his head. Now\nthe reason of her coming was that Kuzia Fekan heard of the plot\nto kill Kanmakan and said to his mother, \"O wife of my uncle, go\nto thy son, ere that wicked baggage Bakoun kill him.\" And she\ntold her what had passed, from beginning to end. So she rose at\nonce and stayed not for aught, till she came to her son's\nlodgings, just as Bakoun was about to slay him. When he awoke, he\nsaid to his mother, \"O my mother, indeed thou comest at a good\ntime, for my nurse Bakoun has been with me this night.\" Then he\nturned to Bakoun and said to her, \"My life on thee, knowest thou\nany story better than those thou hast told me?\" \"What I have told\nthee,\" answered she, \"is nothing to what I will tell thee; but\nthat must be for another time.\" Then she rose to go, hardly\nbelieving that she should escape with her life, for she perceived\nof her cunning that his mother knew what was toward; and he said,\n\"Go in peace.\" So she went her way, and his mother said to him,\n\"O my son, blessed be this night, wherein God the Most High hath\ndelivered thee from this accursed woman!\" \"How so?\" asked he, and\nshe told him the whole story. \"O my mother,\" said he, \"whoso is\nfated to live finds no slayer; nor, though he be slain, will he\ndie; but now it were wise that we depart from amongst these\nenemies and let God do what He will.\" So, as soon as it was day,\nhe left the city and joined the Vizier Dendan, and certain things\nbefell between King Sasan and Nuzhet ez Zeman, which caused her\nalso to leave the city and join herself to Kanmakan and Dendan,\nas did likewise such of the King's officers as inclined to their\nparty. Then they took counsel together what they should do and\nagreed to make an expedition into the land of the Greeks and take\ntheir revenge for the death of King Omar ben Ennuman and his son\nSherkan. So they set out with this intent and after adventures\nwhich it were tedious to set out, but the drift of which will\nappear from what follows, they fell into the hands of Rumzan,\nKing of the Greeks. Next morning, King Rumzan caused Dendan and\nKanmakan and their company to be brought before him and seating\nthem at his side, bade spread the tables of food. So they ate and\ndrank and took heart of grace, after having made sure of death,\nfor that, when they were summoned to the King's presence, they\nsaid to one another, \"He has not sent for us but to put us to\ndeath.\" Then said the King, \"I have had a dream, which I related\nto the monks and they said, 'None can expound it to thee but the\nVizier Dendan.'\" \"And what didst thou see in thy dream, O King of\nthe age?\" asked Dendan. \"I dreamt,\" answered the King, \"that I\nwas in a pit, as it were a black well, where meseemed folk were\ntormenting me; and I would have risen, but fell on my feet and\ncould not get out of the pit. Then I turned and saw on the ground\na girdle of gold and put out my hand to take it; but when I\nraised it from the ground, I saw it was two girdles. So I girt my\nmiddle with them, and behold, they became one girdle; and this, O\nVizier, is my dream and what I saw in sleep.\" \"O our lord the\nSultan,\" said Dendan, \"this thy dream denotes that thou hast a\nbrother or a brother's son or an uncle's son or other near\nkinsman of thy flesh and blood [of whom thou knowest not].\" When\nthe King heard this, he looked at Kanmakan and Dendan and Nuzhet\nez Zeman and Kuzia Fekan and the rest of the captives and said in\nhimself, \"If I cut off these people's heads, their troops will\nlose heart for the loss of their chiefs and I shall be able to\nreturn speedily to my realm, lest the kingdom pass out of my\nhands.\" So he called the headsman and bade him strike off\nKanmakan's head, when behold, up came Rumzan's nurse and said to\nhim, \"O august King, what wilt thou do?\" Quoth he, \"I mean to put\nthese captives to death and throw their heads among their troops;\nafter which I will fall upon them, I and all my men, and kill all\nwe may and put the rest to the rout; so will this be the end of\nthe war and I shall return speedily to my kingdom, ere aught\nbefall among my subjects.\"\n\nWhen the nurse heard this, she came up to him and said in the\nFrank tongue, \"How canst thou slay thine own brother's son and\nthy sister and thy sister's daughter?\" When he heard this, he was\nexceeding angry and said to her, \"O accursed woman, didst thou\nnot tell me that my mother was murdered and that my father died\nby poison? Didst thou not give me a jewel and say to me, 'This\njewel was thy father's'? Why didst thou not tell me the truth?\"\n\"All that I told thee is true,\" replied she: \"but thy case and my\nown are wonderful and thine and my history extraordinary. My name\nis Merjaneh and thy mother's name was Abrizeh. She was gifted\nwith such beauty and grace and valour that proverbs were made of\nher, and her prowess was renowned among men of war. Thy father\nwas King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and Khorassan. He sent\nhis son Sherkan on an expedition, in company with this very\nVizier Dendan; and Sherkan thy brother separated himself from the\ntroops and fell in with thy mother Queen Abrizeh, in a privy\ngarden of her palace, whither we had resorted to wrestle, she and\nI and her other damsels. He came on us by chance and wrestled\nwith thy mother, who overcame him by the splendour of her beauty\nand her valour. Then she entertained him five days in her palace,\ntill the news of this came to her father, by the old woman\nShewahi, surnamed Dhat ed Dewahi, whereupon she embraced Islam at\nSherkan's hands and he carried her by stealth to Baghdad, and\nwith her myself and Rihaneh and other twenty damsels. When we\ncame to thy father's presence, he fell in love with thy mother\nand going in to her one night, foregathered with her, and she\nbecame with child by him of thee. Now thy mother had three\njewels, which she gave to thy father, and he gave one of them to\nhis daughter Nuzhet ez Zeman, another to thy brother Zoulmekan\nand the third to thy brother Sherkan. This last thy mother took\nfrom Sherkan, and I kept it for thee. When the time of the\nprincess's delivery drew near, she yearned after her own people\nand discovered her secret to me; so I went privily to a black\nslave called Ghezban and telling him our case, bribed him to go\nwith us. Accordingly, he took us and fled forth the city with us\nby stealth towards the land of the Greeks, till we came to a\ndesert place on the borders of our own country. Here the pangs of\nlabour came upon thy mother, and the slave, being moved by lust,\nsought of her a shameful thing; whereat she cried out loudly and\nwas sore affrighted at him. In the excess of her alarm, she gave\nbirth to thee at once, and at this moment there arose, in the\ndirection of our country, a cloud of dust which spread till it\ncovered the plain. At this sight, the slave feared for his life;\nso, in his rage, he smote Queen Abrizeh with his sword and slew\nher, then, mounting his horse, went his way. Presently, the dust\nlifted and discovered thy grandfather, King Herdoub, who, seeing\nthy mother his daughter dead on the ground, was sorely troubled\nand questioned me of the manner of her death and why she had left\nher father's kingdom. So I told him all that had happened, first\nand last; and this is the cause of the feud between the people of\nthe land of the Greeks and the people of Baghdad. Then we took up\nthy dead mother and buried her; and I took thee and reared thee,\nand hung this jewel about thy neck. But, when thou camest to\nman's estate, I dared not acquaint thee with the truth of the\nmatter, lest it should stir up a war of revenge between you.\nMoreover, thy grandfather had enjoined me to secrecy, and I could\nnot gainsay the commandment of thy mother's father, Herdoub, King\nof the Greeks. This, then, is why I forbore to tell thee that thy\nfather was King Omar ben Ennuman; but, when thou camest to the\nthrone, I told thee [what thou knowest]; and the rest I could not\nreveal to thee till this moment. So now, O King of the age, I\nhave discovered to thee my secret and have acquainted thee with\nall that I know of the matter; and thou knowest best what is in\nthy mind.\" When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard what the King's nurse said,\nshe cried out, saying, \"This King Rumzan is my brother by my\nfather King Omar ben Ennuman, and his mother was the Princess\nAbrizeh, daughter of Herdoub, King of the Greeks; and I know this\ndamsel Merjaneh right well.\" With this, trouble and perplexity\ngot hold upon Rumzan and he caused Nuzhet ez Zeman to be brought\nup to him forthright. When he looked upon her, blood drew to\nblood and he questioned her of his history. So she told me all\nshe knew, and her story tallied with that of his nurse; whereupon\nhe was assured that he was indeed of the people of Irak and that\nKing Omar ben Ennuman was his father. So he caused his sister to\nbe unbound, and she came up to him and kissed his hands, whilst\nher eyes ran over with tears. He wept also to see her weeping,\nand brotherly love entered into him and his heart yearned to his\nbrother's son Kanmakan. So he sprang to his feet and taking the\nsword from the headsman's hands, bade bring the captives up to\nhim. At this, they made sure of death; but he cut their bonds\nwith the sword and said to Merjaneh, \"Explain the matter to them,\neven as thou hast explained it to me.\" \"O King,\" replied she,\n\"know that this old man is the Vizier Dendan and he is the best\nof witnesses to my story, seeing that he knows the truth of the\ncase.\" Then she turned to the captives and repeated the whole\nstory to them and to the princes of the Greeks and the Franks who\nwere present with them, and they all confirmed her words. When\nshe had finished, chancing to look at Kanmakan, she saw on his\nneck the fellow jewel to that which she had hung round King\nRumzan's neck, whereupon she gave such a cry, that the whole\npalace rang again, and said to the King, \"Know, O my son, that\nnow my certainty is still more assured, for the jewel that is\nabout the neck of yonder captive is the fellow to that I hung to\nthy neck, and this is indeed thy brother's son Kanmakan.\" Then\nshe turned to Kanmakan and said to him, \"O King of the age, let\nme see that jewel.\" So he took it from his neck and gave it to\nher. Then she asked Nuzhet ez Zeman of the third jewel and she\ngave it to her, whereupon she delivered the two to King Rumzan,\nand the truth of the matter was made manifest to him and he was\nassured that he was indeed Prince Kanmakan's uncle and that his\nfather was King Omar ben Ennuman. So he rose at once and going up\nto the Vizier Dendan, embraced him; then he embraced Prince\nKanmakan, and they cried aloud for very gladness. The joyful news\nwas blazed abroad and they beat the drums and cymbals, whilst\nthe flutes sounded and the people held high festival. The army of\nIrak and Syria heard the clamour of rejoicing among the Greeks;\nso they mounted, all of them, and King Ziblcan also took horse,\nsaying in himself, \"What can be the cause of this clamour and\nrejoicing in the army of the Franks?\" Then the Muslim troops made\nready for fight and advancing into the field, drew out in battle\narray. Presently, King Rumzan turned and seeing the army deployed\nin battalia, enquired the reason and was told the state of the\ncase; so he bade Kuzia Fekan return at once to the Muslim troops\nand acquaint them with the accord that had betided and how it was\ncome to light that he was Kanmakan's uncle. So she set out,\nputting away from her sorrows and troubles, and stayed not till\nshe came to King Ziblcan, whom she found tearful-eyed, fearing\nfor the captive chiefs and princes. She saluted him and told him\nall that had passed, whereat the Muslims' grief was turned to\ngladness. Then he and all his officers took horse and followed\nthe princess to the pavilion of King Rumzan, whom they found\nsitting with his nephew, Prince Kanmakan. Now they had taken\ncounsel with the Vizier Dendan concerning King Ziblcan and had\nagreed to commit to his charge the city of Damascus of Syria and\nleave him king over it as before, whilst themselves entered Irak.\nAccordingly, they confirmed him in the viceroyalty of Damascus\nand bade him set out at once for his government, so he departed\nwith his troops and they rode with him a part of the way, to bid\nhim farewell. Then they returned and gave orders for departure,\nwhereupon the two armies united and King Rumzan and his nephew\nset out, surrounded by their nobles and grandees. And indeed\nKanmakan rejoiced in his uncle King Rumzan and called down\nblessings on the nurse Merjaneh, who had made them known to each\nother; but the two Kings said to one another, \"Our hearts will\nnever be at rest nor our wrath appeased, till we have taken our\nwreak of the old woman Shewahi, surnamed Dhat ed Dewahi, and\nwiped out the blot upon our honour.\" So they fared on till they\ndrew near Baghdad, and Sasan, hearing of their approach, came out\nto meet them and kissed the hand of the King of the Greeks, who\nbestowed on him a dress of honour. Then King Rumzan sat down on\nthe throne and seated his nephew at his side, who said to him, \"O\nmy uncle, this kingdom befits none but thee.\" \"God forbid,\"\nreplied Rumzan, \"that I should supplant thee in thy kingdom!\" So\nthe Vizier Dendan counselled them to share the throne between\nthem, ruling each one day in turn, and they agreed to this. Then\nthey made feasts and offered sacrifices and held high festival,\nwhilst King Kanmakan spent his nights with his cousin Kuzia\nFekan; and they abode thus awhile.\n\nOne day, as the two Kings sat, rejoicing in the happy ending of\ntheir troubles, they saw a cloud of dust arise and up came a\nmerchant, who ran to them, shrieking and crying out for succour.\n\"O Kings of the age,\" said he, \"how comes it that I was in safety\nin the country of the infidels and am plundered in your realm,\nwhat though it be a land of peace and justice?\" King Rumzan\nquestioned him of his case, and he replied, \"I am a merchant, who\nhave been nigh a score of years absent from my native land,\ntravelling in far countries; and I have a patent of exemption\nfrom Damascus, which the late Viceroy King Sherkan wrote me, for\nthat I had made him gift of a slave-girl. Now I was returning to\nIrak, having with me a hundred loads of rarities of Ind; but, as\nI drew near Baghdad, the seat of your sovereignty and the\nabiding-place of your peace and your justice, there came out upon\nme Bedouins and Kurds banded together from all parts, who slew my\nmen and robbed me of all my goods. This is what hath befallen\nme.\" Then he wept and bemoaned himself before the two Kings, who\ntook compassion on him and swore that they would sally out upon\nthe thieves. So they set out with a hundred horse, each reckoned\nworth thousands of men, and the merchant went before them, to\nguide them in the right way. They fared on all that day and the\nfollowing night till daybreak, when they came to a valley\nabounding in streams and trees. Here they found the bandits\ndispersed about the valley, having divided the treasure between\nthem; but there was yet some of it left. So they fell upon them\nand surrounded them on all sides, nor was it long before they\nmade prize of them all, to the number of near three hundred\nhorsemen, banded together of the scourings of the Arabs. They\nbound them all, and taking what they could find of the merchant's\ngoods, returned to Baghdad, where the two Kings sat down upon one\nthrone and passing the prisoners in review before them,\nquestioned them of their condition and their chiefs. So they\npointed out to them three men and said, \"These are our only\nchiefs, and it was they who gathered us together from all parts\nand countries.\" The Kings bade lay on these three and set the\nrest free, after taking from them all the goods in their\npossession and giving them to the merchant, who examined them and\nfound that a fourth of his stock was missing. The two Kings\nengaged to make good his loss, whereupon he pulled out two\nletters, one in the handwriting of Sherkan and the other in that\nof Nuzhet ez Zeman; for this was the very merchant who had bought\nNuzhet ez Zeman of the Bedouin, as hath been before set forth.\nKanmakan examined the letters and recognized the handwriting of\nhis uncle Sherkan and his aunt Nuzhet ez Zeman; then (for that he\nknew the latter's history) he went in to her with that which she\nhad written and told her the merchant's story. She knew her own\nhandwriting and recognizing the merchant, despatched to him\nguest-gifts (of victual and what not) and commended him to her\nbrother and nephew, who ordered him gifts of money and slaves and\nservants to wait on him, besides which the princess sent him a\nhundred thousand dirhems in money and fifty loads of merchandise,\ntogether with other rich presents. Then she sent for him and made\nherself known to him, whereat he rejoiced greatly and kissed her\nhands, giving her joy of her safety and union with her brother\nand thanking her for her bounty: and he said to her, \"By Allah, a\ngood deed is not lost upon thee!\" Then she withdrew to her own\napartment and the merchant sojourned with them three days, after\nwhich he took leave of them and set out to return to Damascus.\nAfter this, the two Kings sent for the three robber-chiefs and\nquestioned them of their condition, whereupon one of them came\nforward and said, \"Know that I am a Bedouin, who use to lie\nin wait, by the way, to steal children and virgin girls and\nsell them to merchants; and this I did for many a year until\nthese latter days, when Satan incited me to join these two\ngallows-birds in gathering together all the riff-raff of the\nArabs and other peoples, that we might waylay merchants and\nplunder caravans.\" Said the two Kings, \"Tell us the rarest of the\nadventures that have befallen thee in kidnapping children and\ngirls.\" \"O Kings of the age,\" replied he, \"the strangest thing\nthat ever happened to me was as follows. Two-and-twenty years\nago, being at Jerusalem, I saw a girl come out of the khan, who\nwas possessed of beauty and grace, albeit she was but a servant\nand was clad in worn clothes, with a piece of camel-cloth on her\nhead; so I entrapped her by guile and setting her on a camel,\nmade off with her into the desert, thinking to carry her to my\nown people and there set her to pasture the camels and collect\ntheir dung (for fuel); but she wept so sore, that after beating\nher soundly, I carried her to Damascus, where a merchant saw her\nand being astounded at her beauty and accomplishments, bid me\nmore and more for her, till at last I sold her to him for a\nhundred thousand dinars. I heard after that he clothed her\nhandsomely and presented her to the Viceroy of Damascus, who gave\nhim for her her price thrice told; and this, by my life, was but\nlittle for such a damsel! This, O Kings of the age, is the\nstrangest thing that ever befell me.\" The two Kings wondered at\nhis story; but, when Nuzhet ez Zeman heard it, the light in her\nface became darkness, and she cried out and said to her brother,\n\"Sure, this is the very Bedouin who kidnapped me in Jerusalem!\"\nAnd she told them all that she had endured from him in her\nstrangerhood of hardship and blows and hunger and humiliation,\nadding, \"And now it is lawful to me to slay him.\" So saying, she\nseized a sword and made at him; but he cried out and said, \"O\nKings of the age, let her not kill me, till I have told you the\nrare adventures that have betided me.\" And Kanmakan said to her,\n\"O my aunt, let him tell his story, and after do with him as thou\nwilt.\" So she held her hand and the Kings said to him, \"Now let\nus hear thy story.\" \"O Kings of the age,\" said he, \"if I tell you\na rare story, will you pardon me?\" \"Yes,\" answered they. Then\nsaid the Bedouin, \"know that\n\n\n\n\nHemmad the Bedouin's Story.\n\n\n\n\nAwhile ago, I was sore wakeful one night and thought the dawn\nwould never break: so, as soon as it was day, I rose and girding\non my sword, mounted my steed and set my lance in rest. Then I\nrode out to hunt, and as I went along, a company of men accosted\nme and asked me whither I went. I told them, and they said, 'We\nwill bear thee company.' So we all fared on together, and\npresently we saw an ostrich and gave chase; but it evaded us and\nspreading its wings, fled before us and drew us on after it, till\nit brought us to a desert, wherein there was neither grass nor\nwater, nor was aught to be heard there save the hissing of\nserpents, the wailing of Jinn and the howling of ghouls. Here we\nlost sight of the ostrich, nor could we tell whether it had flown\nup into the sky or sunk into the ground. Then we turned our\nhorses' heads and thought to go back; but found that our return\nwould be toilsome and dangerous at that time of exceeding heat;\nfor the heat was grievous to us, so that we were sore athirst and\nour horses stood still. So we made sure of death; but as we were\nin this case, we espied a spacious meadow afar off, wherein were\ngazelles frisking. There was a tent pitched and by the tent-side\na horse tethered and a spear stuck in the earth, whose head\nglittered in the sun. When we saw this, our hearts revived, after\nwe had despaired, and we turned our horses' heads towards the\nmeadow and rode on, till we came to a spring, where we alighted\nand drank and watered our beasts. Then I was seized with a frenzy\nof curiosity and went up to the door of the tent, where I saw a\nyoung man like the new moon, without hair on his cheeks, and on\nhis right hand a slender damsel, as she were a willow wand. No\nsooner did I set eyes on the girl, than love of her got hold upon\nmy heart and I saluted the young man, who returned my greeting.\nThen said I to him, 'O brother of the Arabs, tell me who thou art\nand what is this damsel to thee?' With this, he bent down his\nhead awhile, then raised it and replied, 'Tell me first who thou\nart and what are these horsemen with thee.' 'I am Hemmad, son of\nEl Fezari,' answered I, 'the renowned cavalier, who is reckoned\nas five hundred horse among the Arabs. We went forth this morning\nto hunt and were overcome by thirst; so I came to the door of\nthis tent, thinking to get of thee a draught of water.' When he\nheard this, he turned to the fair maiden and said to her, 'Bring\nthis man water and what there is of food.' So she went in,\ntrailing her skirts, whilst her feet stumbled in her long hair\nand the golden bangles tinkled on her ankles, and returned after\na little, bearing in her right hand a silver vessel of cold water\nand in her left a bowl full of milk and dates and flesh of wild\ncattle. But, of the excess of my passion for her, I could take of\nher nor meat nor drink, and I recited to her the following\nverses, applying them to her:\n\nThe dye of the henna upon her hand doth show, As 'twere a raven\n     new lighted on fresh-fall'n snow;\nAnd see the full moon and the sun beside her face, This dim and\n     the other fearful for shame and woe.\n\nThen, after I had eaten and drunk, I said to the youth, 'O chief\nof the Arabs, I have told thee truly who and what I am, and now I\nwould fain have thee do the like by me and tell me the truth of\nthy case.' 'As for this damsel,' replied he, 'she is my sister.'\nQuoth I, 'It is my desire that thou give her to me to wife of\nfree will: else will I slay thee and take her by force.' With\nthis, he bowed his head awhile, then raised his eyes to me and\nanswered, 'Thou sayest sooth in avouching thyself a renowned\ncavalier and a famous champion and the lion of the desert; but if\nye all attack me treacherously and slay me and take my sister by\nforce, it will be a stain upon your honour. If ye be, as thou\nsayest, cavaliers that are counted among the champions and fear\nnot the shock of battle, give me time to don my armour and gird\non my sword and set my lance in rest and mount my horse. Then\nwill we go forth into the field and fight; and if I conquer you,\nI will kill you, every man of you; and if you overcome me and\nslay me, this damsel my sister is thine.' 'This is but just,'\nanswered I, 'and we oppose it not.' Then I turned my horse's\nhead, mad for love of the damsel, and rode back to my companions,\nto whom I set forth her beauty and grace, as also the comeliness\nof the young man and his valour and strength of soul and how he\navouched himself a match for a thousand horse. Moreover, I\ndescribed to them the tent and all the riches and rarities it\ncontained and said to them, 'Be sure that this youth would not\nhave taken up his abode alone in this desert place, were he not a\nman of great prowess: so I propose that whoso slays him shall\ntake his sister.' And they agreed to this. Then we armed\nourselves and mounting, rode to the tent, where we found the\nyoung man armed and mounted; but his sister ran up to him, with\nher veil drenched with tears, and laying hold of his stirrup,\ncried out, saying, 'Alas!' and 'Woe worth the day!' in her fear\nfor her brother, and recited the following verses:\n\nTo God above I make my moan of sorrow and affright. Mayhap, the\n     empyrean's Lord will smite them with dismay.\nThey fain would kill thee, brother mine, with malice\n     aforethought, Though never cause of anger was nor fault\n     forewent the fray.\nYet for a champion art thou known among the men of war, The\n     doughtiest knight that East or West goes camping by the way.\nThou wilt thy sister's honour guard, whose might is small, for\n     thou Her brother art and she for thee unto the Lord doth\n     pray\nLet not the foe possess my soul nor seize on me perforce And work\n     their cruel will on me, without my yea or nay.\nBy God His truth, I'll never live in any land where thou Art not\n     albeit all the goods of plenty it display!\nBut I will slay myself for love and yearning for thy sake And in\n     the darksome tomb I'll make my bed upon the clay.\n\nWhen he heard her words, he wept sore and turning his horse's\nhead towards her, made answer with the following verses:\n\nStand by and see the wondrous deeds that I will do this day,\n     Whenas we meet and I on them rain blows in the mellay.\nE'en though the lion of the war, the captain of the host, The\n     stoutest champion of them all, spur out into the fray,\nI'll deal a Thaalebiyan[FN#159] blow at him and in his heart I'll\n     let my spear, even to the shaft, its thirst for blood allay.\nIf I defend thee not from all that seek thee, sister mine, May I\n     be slaughtered and my corse given to the birds of prey!\nAy, I will battle for thy sake, with all the might I may, And\n     books shall story after me the marvels of this day.\n\nThen said he, 'O my sister, give ear to what I shall enjoin on\nthee.' And she answered, 'I hear and obey.' Quoth he, 'If I fall,\nlet none possess thee;' and she buffeted her face and said, 'God\nforbid, O my brother, that I should see thee laid low and yield\nmyself to thine enemies!' With this he put out his hand to her\nand drew aside her veil, whereupon her face shone forth, like the\nsun from out clouds. Then he kissed her between the eyes and bade\nher farewell; after which he turned to us and said, 'Ho,\ncavaliers! Come ye as guests or are you minded to cut and thrust?\nIf ye come as guests, rejoice in hospitality; and if ye covet the\nshining moon,[FN#160] come out against me, one by one, and\nfight.' Then came out to him a sturdy horseman, and the young man\nsaid to him, 'Tell me thy name and thy father's name, for I have\nsworn to fight with none whose name and whose father's name tally\nwith mine and my father's, and if it be thus with thee, I will\ngive thee up the girl.' 'My name is Bilal,'[FN#161] answered the\nother; and the young man repeated the following verses:\n\nThou liest when thou talkest of \"benefits\"; for lo, Thou comest\n     with mischief and malice and woe!\nSo, an thou be doughty, heed well what I say: I'm he who the\n     braver in the battle lays low\nWith a keen-cutting sword, like the horn of the moon; So look\n     (and beware) for a hill-shaking blow!\n\nThen they ran at one another, and the youth smote his adversary\nin the breast, that the lance-head issued from his back. With\nthis, another came out, and the youth repeated the following\nverses:\n\nO dog, that art noisome of stench and of sight, What is there of\n     worth that to come by is light?\n'Tis only the lion, of race and of might Right noble, recks\n     little of life in the fight.\n\nNor was it long before he left him also drowned in his blood and\ncried out, 'Who will come out to me?' So a third horseman pricked\nout, reciting the following verses:\n\nI come to thee, with a fire in my breast that blazes free, And\n     call on my comrades all to the fight to follow me.\nThough thou hast slain the chiefs of the Arabs, yet, perdie, Thou\n     shalt not 'scape this day from those that follow thee!\n\nWhen the youth heard this, he answered him, saying:\n\nThou com'st, like theright evil fiend that thou art, With a lie\n     on thy lips and a fraud at thy heart;\nThis day shalt thou taste of a death-dealing dart And a spear\n     that shall rid thee of life with its smart.\n\nThen he smote him on the breast, that the spear-point  issued\nfrom his back, and cried out, saying, 'Will another come out?' So\na fourth came out and the youth asked him his name. He replied,\n'My name is Hilal.'[FN#162] And the youth repeated these verses:\n\nThou err'st, that wouldst plunge in my sea of affray And thinkest\n     to daunt me with lies and dismay.\nLo, I, to whose chant thou hast hearkened this day, Thy soul, ere\n     thou know'st it, will ravish away!\n\nThen they drove at one another and exchanged blows; but the\nyouth's stroke forewent that of his adversary and slew him: and\nthus he went on to kill all who sallied out against him. When I\nsaw my comrades slain, I said in myself, 'If I fight with him, I\nshall not be able to withstand him, and if I flee, I shall become\na byword among the Arabs.' However, the youth gave me no time to\nthink, but ran at me and laying hold of me, dragged me from my\nsaddle. I swooned away and he raised his sword to cut off my\nhead; but I clung to his skirts and he lifted me in his hand, as\nI were a sparrow [in the clutches of a hawk]. When the maiden saw\nthis, she rejoiced in her brother's prowess and coming up to him,\nkissed him between the eyes. Then he delivered me to her, saying,\n'Take him and entreat him well, for he is come under our rule.'\nSo she took hold of the collars of my coat-of-arms and led me\naway by them as one would lead a dog. Then she did off her\nbrother's armour and clad him in a robe, after which she brought\nhim a stool of ivory, on which he sat down, and said to him, 'May\nGod whiten thine honour and make thee to be as a provision\nagainst the shifts of fortune!' And he answered her with the\nfollowing verses:\n\nMy sister said, (who saw my lustrous forehead blaze Midmost the\n     war, as shine the sun's meridian rays)\n\"God bless thee for a brave, to whom, when he falls on, The\n     desert lions bow in terror and amaze!\"\n\"Question the men of war,\" I answered her, \"of me, Whenas the\n     champions flee before my flashing gaze.\nI am the world-renowned for fortune and for might, Whose prowess\n     I uplift to what a height of praise!\nO Hemmad, thou hast roused a lion, who shall show Thee death that\n     comes as swift as vipers in the ways.\"\n\nWhen I heard what he said, I was perplexed about my affair, and\nconsidering my condition and how I was become a captive, I was\nlessened in my own esteem. Then I looked at the damsel and said\nto myself, 'It is she who is the cause of all this trouble;' and\nI fell a-marvelling at her beauty and grace, till the tears\nstreamed from my eyes and I recited the following verses:\n\nReproach me not, O friend, nor chide me for the past, For I will\n     pay no heed to chiding and dispraise.\nLo, I am clean distraught for one, whom when I saw, Fate in my\n     breast forthright the love of her did raise.\nHer brother was my foe and rival in her love, A man of mickle\n     might and dreadful in affrays.\n\nThen the maiden set food before her brother, and he bade me eat\nwith him, whereat I rejoiced and felt assured of my life. When he\nhad made an end of eating, she brought him a flagon of wine and\nhe drank, till the fumes of the wine mounted to his head and his\nface flushed. Then he turned to me and said, 'Harkye, Hemmad,\ndost thou know me?' 'By thy life,' answered I, 'I am rich in\nnought but ignorance!' Said he, 'I am Ibad ben Temim ben\nThaalebeh, and indeed God giveth thee thy liberty and spareth\nthee confusion.' Then he drank to my health and gave me a cup of\nwine and I drank it off. Then he filled me a second and a third\nand a fourth, and I drank them all; and he made merry with me and\ntook an oath of me that I would never betray him. So I swore to\nhim a thousand oaths that I would never deal perfidiously with\nhim, but would be a friend and a helper to him.\n\nThen he bade his sister bring me ten dresses of silk; so she\nbrought them and laid them on me, and this gown I have on my body\nis one of them. Moreover, he made her bring one of the best of\nthe riding camels, laden with stuffs and victual, and a sorrel\nhorse, and gave the whole to me. I abode with them three days,\neating and drinking, and what he gave me is with me to this day.\nAt the end of this time, he said to me, 'O Hemmad, O my brother,\nI would fain sleep awhile and rest myself. I trust myself to\nthee; but if thou see horsemen making hither, fear not, for they\nare of the Beni Thaalebeh, seeking to wage war on me.' Then he\nlaid his sword under his head and slept; and when he was drowned\nin slumber, the devil prompted me to kill him; so I rose, and\ndrawing the sword from under his head, dealt him a blow that\nsevered his head from his body. His sister heard what I had done,\nand rushing out from within the tent, threw herself on his body,\ntearing her clothes and repeating the following verses:\n\nCarry the tidings to the folk, the saddest news can be; But man\n     from God His ordinance no whither hath to flee.\nNow art thou slaughtered, brother mine, laid prostrate on the\n     earth, Thou whose bright face was as the round of the full\n     moon to see.\nIndeed, an evil day it was, the day thou mettest them, And after\n     many a fight, thy spear is shivered, woe is me!\nNo rider, now that thou art dead, in horses shall delight Nor\n     evermore shall woman bear a male to match with thee.\nHemmad this day hath played thee false and foully done to death;\n     Unto his oath and plighted faith a traitor base is he.\nHe deemeth thus to have his will and compass his desire; But\n     Satan lieth to his dupes in all he doth decree.\n\nWhen she had ended, she turned to me and said, 'O man of accursed\nlineage, wherefore didst thou play my brother false and slay him,\nwhenas he purposed to send thee back to thy country with gifts\nand victual and it was his intent also to marry thee to me at the\nfirst of the month?' Then she drew a sword she had with her, and\nplanting it in the ground, with the point set to her breast,\nthrew herself thereon and pressed upon it, till the blade issued\nfrom her back and she fell to the ground, dead. I mourned for her\nand wept and repented when repentance availed me nothing. Then I\nwent in haste to the tent and taking whatever was light of\ncarriage and great of worth, went my way: but in my haste and\nfear, I took no heed of my (dead) comrades, nor did I bury the\nmaiden and the youth. This, then, is my story, and it is still\nmore extraordinary than that of the serving-maid I kidnapped in\nJerusalem.\"\n\nWhen Nuzet ez Zeman heard these words of the  Bedouin, the light\nin her eyes was changed to darkness, and she rose and drawing the\nsword, smote him amiddleward the shoulder-blades, that the point\nissued from his throat. The bystanders said to her, \"Why hast\nthou made haste to slay him?\" And she answered, \"Praised be God\nwho hath granted me to avenge myself with my own hand!\" And she\nbade the slaves drag the body out by the feet and cast it to the\ndogs. Then they turned to the second prisoner, who was a black\nslave, and said to him, \"What is thy name? Tell us the truth of\nthy case.\" \"My name is Ghezban,\" answered he and told them what\nhad passed between himself and the princess Abrizeh and how he\nhad slain her and fled. Hardly had he made an end of his story,\nwhen King Rumzan struck off his head with his sabre, saying,\n\"Praised be God that gave me life! I have avenged my mother with\nmy own hand.\" Then he repeated to them what his nurse Merjaneh\nhad told him of this same Ghezban; after which they turned to the\nthird prisoner and said to him, \"Tell us who thou art and speak\nthe truth.\" Now this was the very camel-driver, whom the people\nof Jerusalem hired to carry Zoulmekan to the hospital at\nDamascus; but he threw him down on the fuel-heap and went his\nway. So he told them how he had dealt with Zoulmekan, whereupon\nKanmakan took his sword forthright and cut off his head, saying,\n\"Praised be God who hath given me life, that I might requite this\ntraitor what he did with my father, for I have heard this very\nstory from King Zoulmekan himself!\" Then they said to each other\n\"It remains only for us to take our wreak of the old woman\nShewahi, yclept Dhat ed Dewahi, for that she is the prime cause\nof all these troubles. Who will deliver her into our hands, that\nwe may avenge ourselves upon her and wipe out our dishonour?\" And\nKing Rumzan said, \"Needs must we bring her hither.\" So he wrote a\nletter to his grandmother, the aforesaid old woman, giving her to\nknow that he had subdued the kingdoms of Damascus and Mosul and\nIrak and had broken up the host of the Muslims and captured their\nprinces and adding, \"I desire thee of all urgency to come to me\nwithout delay, bringing with thee the princess Sufiyeh, daughter\nof King Afridoun, and whom thou wilt of the Nazarene chiefs, but\nno troops; for the country is quiet and under our hand.\" And he\ndespatched the letter to her, which when she read, she rejoiced\ngreatly and forthwith equipping herself and Sufiyeh, set out with\ntheir attendants and journeyed, without stopping, till they drew\nnear Baghdad. Then she sent a messenger to acquaint the King of\nher arrival, whereupon quoth Rumzan, \"We should do well to don\nthe habit of the Franks and go out to meet the old woman, to the\nintent that we may be assured against her craft and perfidy.\" So\nthey clad themselves in Frankish apparel, and when Kuzia Fekan\nsaw them, she exclaimed, \"By the Lord of Worship, did I not know\nyou, I should take you to be indeed Franks!\" Then they sallied\nforth, with a thousand horse, to meet the old woman, and King\nRumzan rode on before them. As soon as his eyes met hers, he\ndismounted and walked towards her, and she, recognizing him,\ndismounted also and embraced him; but he pressed her ribs with\nhis hands, till he well-nigh broke them. Quoth she, \"What is\nthis, O my son?\" But before she had done speaking, up came\nKanmakan and Dendan, and the horsemen with them cried out at the\nwomen and slaves and took them all prisoners. Then the two Kings\nreturned to Baghdad, with their captives, and Rumzan bade\ndecorate the city three days long, at the end of which time they\nbrought out the old woman, with a tall red bonnet of palm-leaves\non her head, diademed with asses' dung, and preceded by a herald,\nproclaiming aloud, \"This is the reward of those who presume to\nlay hands on kings and kings' sons!\" Then they crucified her on\none of the gates of Baghdad; and her companions, seeing what\nbefell her, all embraced the faith of Islam. As for Kanmakan and\nhis uncle Rumzan and his aunt Nuzhet ez Zeman, they marvelled at\nthe wonderful events that had betided them and bade the scribes\nset them down orderly in books, that those who came after might\nread. Then they all abode in the enjoyment of all the delights\nand comforts of life, till there overtook them the Destroyer of\nDelights and the Sunderer of Companies; and this is all that hath\ncome down to us of the dealings of fortune with King Omar ben\nEnnuman and his sons Sherkan and Zoulmekan and his son's son\nKanmakan and his daughter Nuzhet ez Zeman and her daughter Kuzia\nFekan.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEND of VOL. II.\n\n\n\n\n\n                       Notes to Volume 2.\n\n\n[FN#1] A.H. 65-86.\n\n[FN#2] i.e. none could approach him in the heat of fight.\n\n[FN#3] Sophia.\n\n[FN#4] Apparently Palestine (in this case).\n\n[FN#5] i.e. man of might and munificence.\n\n[FN#6] About \u00a335,000.\n\n[FN#7] Dhai ed Dewahi.\n\n[FN#8] i.e. sperma hominis.\n\n[FN#9] Apparently the names of noted wrestlers.\n\n[FN#10] A phrase of frequent occurrence in the Koran, meaning\n\"your female slaves\" or \"the women ye have captured in war.\"\n\n[FN#11] Quoth he (Solomon), \"O chiefs, which of you will bring me\nher throne?\" (i.e. that of Belkis, queen of Sheba) .......\"I,\"\nsaid an Afrit of the Jinn, \"will bring it thee, ere thou canst\nrise from thy stead, for I am able thereto and faithful!\"--Koran\nxxvii. 38, 39.\n\n[FN#12] One of the fountains of Paradise.\n\n[FN#13] Kutheiyir ibn Ali Juma, a well-known poet of the seventh\nand eighth centuries at Medina. He was celebrated for his love of\nAzzeh, in whose honour most of his poems were written. The writer\n(or copyist) of this tale has committed an anachronism in\nintroducing these verses, as Kutheiyir was a contemporary of the\nKhalif Abdulmelik ben Merwan before whose time Sherkan and his\nfather (both imaginary characters) are stated( see supra, p. 1\n{Vol. 2, FN#1}) to have lived; but the whole narrative is full of\nthe grossest anachronisms, too numerous, indeed, to notice.\n\n[FN#14] Jemil ben Mamer, another celebrated Arabian poet and\nlover, a friend and contemporary of Kutheiyir.\n\n[FN#15] A person who dies for love is esteemed a martyr by the\nArabs.\n\n[FN#16] I suspect these verses to have been introduced in error\nby some copyist. They appear utterly meaningless in this context.\n\n[FN#17] The bishop.\n\n[FN#18] Apparently referring in jest to her speech to him see\nsupra, p. 27 {see text, Vol. 2, after FN#17}, \"Thou art beaten\nin everything.\"\n\n[FN#19] He likens the glance of her eye to the blade of a Yemen\nsword,--a comparison of frequent occurrence in Arabic poetry.\n\n[FN#20] Mehmil. A decorated framework or litter borne by a camel,\nsent as an emblem of royalty with the caravan of pilgrims to\nMecca, by way of honour to the occasion and to the sacred object\nof the pilgrimage, much as great people send their empty\ncarriages to attend the funeral of a person for whose memory they\nwish to show their respect. The introduction of the Mehmil here\nis another of the many anachronisms of the story, as the custom\nis said not to here come into use till a much later period.\n\n[FN#21] Mecca.\n\n[FN#22] Medina.\n\n[FN#23] Oriental substitutes for soap.\n\n[FN#24] i.e., death.\n\n[FN#25] Apparently the Bedouin was angry with the merchant for\npraising the girl to her face and perhaps also alarmed at finding\nthat he had kidnapped a young lady of consequence, where he only\nthought to have made prize of a pretty wench of humble condition\nand friendless.\n\n[FN#26] Delight of the age.\n\n[FN#27] Affliction (or wrath) of the age.\n\n[FN#28] For fuel.\n\n[FN#29] \"God will open on me another gate (or means) of making my\nliving.\" A common formula, meaning, \"It is not enough.\"\n\n[FN#30] Or state problems.\n\n[FN#31] One of the four great Muslim sects or schools of\ntheology, taking its name from the Imam es Shafi (see post, p.\n131, note). {see Vol. 2 FN#89}\n\n[FN#32] Second of the Abbasside Khalifs, A.H. 136-158.\n\n[FN#33] The second Khalif after Mohammed (A.H. 13-23) and the\nmost renowned for piety and just government of all the borders of\nthe office, except perhaps his descendant Omar ben Abdulaziz\n(A.H. 99-102).\n\n[FN#34] As a reward (in the next world) for good deeds.\n\n[FN#35] The fourth Khalif.\n\n[FN#36] The word rendered \"good breeding\" may also be translated\n\"polite accomplishments\" or \"mental discipline\" and has a great\nnumber of other meanings.\n\n[FN#37] Sixth Khalif and founder of the Ommiade dynasty (A.H. 41\n60).\n\n[FN#38] One of the most notable men of the day, chief of the\ngreat tribe of the Benou Temim. He was a contemporary of the\nProphet and was held in much esteem by Muawiyeh.\n\n[FN#39] Surname of Ahnaf.\n\n[FN#40] Governor of Bassora and other places under the first four\nKhalifs.\n\n[FN#41] Ziad teen Abou Sufyan, illegitimate brother of the Khalif\nMuawiyeh, afterwards governor of Bassora Cufa and the Hejaz.\n\n[FN#42] Because it might have been taken to mean, \"inhabitants of\nhell.\"\n\n[FN#43] i.e. death.\n\n[FN#44] A battle fought near Medina, A.D. 625, in which Mohammed\nwas defeated by the Meccans under Abou Sufyan.\n\n[FN#45] One of Mohammed's widows and Omar's own daughter.\n\n[FN#46] A well-known man of letters and theologian of the seventh\nand eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#47] i.e. to prepare himself by good works, etc., for the\nworld to come.\n\n[FN#48] A celebrated Cufan theologian of the eighth century.\n\n[FN#49] i.e. for the next world.\n\n[FN#50] The eighth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty, a rival in\npiety and single-mindedness of Omar ben Khettab.\n\n[FN#51] The descendants of Umeyyeh and kinsmen of the reigning\nhouse.\n\n[FN#52] The second, fifth, sixth and seventh Khalifs of the\nOmmiade dynasty.\n\n[FN#53] The mother of Omar ben Abdulaziz was a granddaughter of\nOmar ben Khettab.\n\n[FN#54] Brother of Omar's successor, Yezid II.\n\n[FN#55] This passage apparently belongs to the previous account\nof Omar's death-bed; but I have left it as it stands in the text,\nas it would be a hopeless task to endeavour to restore this chaos\nof insipid anecdote and devotional commonplace to anything like\nsymmetry.\n\n[FN#56] Lit. with (or by) neither book (i.e. Koran) nor Sunneh\n(i.e. the Traditions of the Prophet).\n\n[FN#57] Chief of the tribe of Temim and one of the most elegant\norators of the eighth century.\n\n[FN#58] Surnamed Eth Thekefi, Governor of Yemen and Irak: also a\nwell known orator, but a most cruel and fantastic tyrant.\n\n[FN#59] Tenth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty (A.D. 723-742).\n\n[FN#60] i.e. slave-girl.\n\n[FN#61] i.e. It was decreed, so it was.\n\n[FN#62] Nuzhet ez Zeman.\n\n[FN#63] Nuzhet ez Zeman.\n\n[FN#64] Zoulmekan.\n\n[FN#65] Nuzhet ez Zeman.\n\n[FN#66] Sedic.\n\n[FN#67] Sidc.\n\n[FN#68] Mohammed Ibn Shihab ez Zuhri, a celebrated Traditionist\nand jurisconsult of Medina in the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#69] Alexander.\n\n[FN#70] The celebrated fabulist, said to have been a black slave\nof the time of David, but supposed by some to be identical with\nAesop.\n\n[FN#71] Koran iii. 185.\n\n[FN#72] One of the Companions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#73] One of the contemporaries of Mohammed and a noted\nTraditionist (or repeater of the sayings of the Prophet) at Cufa\nin the seventh century.\n\n[FN#74] A noted Traditionist and expounder Of the Koran in the\nfirst century of the Muslim era. He was a black and a native of\nCufa.\n\n[FN#75] Son of the martyr Hussein and grandson of the Khalif Ali.\n\n[FN#76] A very eminent doctor of the law and Traditionist of the\neighth century. He was a native of Cufa and was regarded as one\nof the great exemplars of the true believers.\n\n[FN#77] i.e. those who love and obey the precepts of the Koran.\n\n[FN#78] i.e. Barefoot. A native of Merv and a famous ascetic of\nthe eighth and ninth centuries.\n\n[FN#79] Necessitating a fresh ablution, before the prayer can be\nended.\n\n[FN#80] Another noted ascetic of the time.\n\n[FN#81] About a penny.\n\n[FN#82] A well-known legist and devotee of the eighth and ninth\ncenturies at Baghdad, Sounder of one of the four great orthodox\nMuslim schools.\n\n[FN#83] A famous theologian and devotee of the eighth century at\nBassora.\n\n[FN#84] A noted preacher and Traditionist of Khorassan in the\nninth, century.\n\n[FN#85] Koran .xvi. 6.\n\n[FN#86] A Traditionist of Medina. who flourished in the eighth\ncentury.\n\n[FN#87] This paragraph is part extract from and part paraphrase\nof the Koran xxviii 22-27.\n\n[FN#88] A well-known pietist of the eighth century.\n\n[FN#89] Abou Hatim el Asemm (the Deaf), a famous Balkhi\ntheologian of the ninth century.\n\n[FN#90] One of two of the most famous theologians of the second\ncentury of the Hegira and the founders of two of the four great\nMohammedan schools.\n\n[FN#91] One of two of the most famous theologians of the second\ncentury of the Hegira and the founders of two of the four great\nMohammedan schools.\n\n\n[FN#92] Ismail ibn Yehya el Muzeni, a famous Egyptian doctor of\nthe law pupil of Es Shafi and Imam of the Shafiyite school in the\nninth century.\n\n[FN#93] Koran lxxvii. 35, 36.\n\n[FN#94] Mohammed.\n\n[FN#95] Islam.\n\n[FN#96] \"In Hell shall they (the unbelievers) burn, and ill shall\nbe (their) stead.\"--Koran, xiv. 34.\n\n[FN#97] Mohammed pretended that his coming had been foretold in\nthe Gospels and that the Christians had falsified the passage\n(John xvi. 7) promising the advent of the Comforter (<Greek>\n          ) by substituting the latter word for\n<Greek>          , glorious, renowned, praised, i.e. Mohammed.\n\n[FN#98] The second chapter of the Koran, beginning, \"This is the\nBook, etc.\"\n\n[FN#99] It appears by what follows that Afridoun, supposing the\nvictory to be gained, returned to Constantinople immediately\nafter sending this message and left the command of the army to\nKing Herdoub.\n\n[FN#100] At Mecca.\n\n[FN#101] i.e. There is no god but God.\n\n[FN#102] Koran, x. 25.\n\n[FN#103] Cassia fistularis, a kind of carob.\n\n[FN#104] \"say not of those who are slain in the way (service) of\nGod that they are dead; nay, they are living.\" Koran, ii 149.\n\n[FN#105] Apparently Constantinople.\n\n[FN#106] This verse alludes to the garbled version of the miracle\nof Aaron's rod given in the Koran, which attributes the act to\nMoses and makes the Egyptian sorcerers throw down ropes, to which\nby their art they give the appearance of serpents.\n\n[FN#107] i.e., of the Koran.\n\n[FN#108] A certain formula, invoking peace on the Prophet and all\nmen recurring at the end of the five daily prayers and pronounced\nsitting.\n\n[FN#109] ex voto.\n\n[FN#110] i.e. Mohammed.\n\n[FN#111] \"What news bringest thou, O saint?\"\n\n[FN#112] i.e. Mohammed.\n\n[FN#113] These epithets are often applied by the Arabs, in a\ncomplimentary sense, to anyone who works great havoc among his\nenemies by his prowess and cunning.\n\n[FN#114] See Vol. I. p. 135, note. {Vol. 1, FN#45}\n\n[FN#115] i.e. Deal with thee as if thou wert slave-born and\ntherefore not used to knightly fashions nor able to endure stress\nof battle.\n\n[FN#116] A chapel so called in the Temple at Mecca.\n\n[FN#117] Mohammed.\n\n[FN#118] Protector of the women that ride therein.\n\n[FN#119] The Mohammedans have a legend that God gave David\nextraordinary skill in working iron and making chain mail, that\nhe might earn his living without drawing upon the public\ntreasury. \"And we gave David a grace from us and softened for him\niron (saying), 'Make thou coats of mail and adjust the rings duly\nand deal rightly, for I look upon what ye do.\"' --Koran, xxxiv.\n10.\n\n[FN#120] This appears to be an allusion to the colours of the\nhouse of  Abbas, which were black.\n\n[FN#121] Kafir means \"black\" as well as \"infidel.\"\n\n[FN#122] One of the Mohammedan legends represents Moses as\nseeking the water of life.\n\n[FN#123] The allusion here is to the face of a beloved one, which\nis likened to a moon rising out of her dress.\n\n[FN#124] An ornamental hand, said to be so called from the\nresemblance of the pen with which it is written to the leaf of\nthe sweet basil.\n\n[FN#125] lit. \"the love of the Beni Udhra,\" an Arabian tribe,\nfamous for the passion and devotion with which love was practiced\namong them.\n\n[FN#126] Syn. eye (nazir).\n\n[FN#127] Syn. eyebrow (hajib).\n\n[FN#128] i.e. including the two days that had already elapsed.\n\n[FN#129] i.e. a graceful youth of the province in which Mecca is\nsituate.\n\n[FN#130] A small piece of wood used in a children's out-door game\ncalled tab.\n\n[FN#131] The stone of the beleh or \"green\" date, not allowed to\nripen.\n\n[FN#132] Or drachm-weight.\n\n[FN#133] An audacious parody of the consecrated expression used\nto describe the ceremonious circumambulation of the Kaabeh at\nMecca.\n\n[FN#134] Subaudiantur autem utriusque sex\u00fbs pudenda.\n\n[FN#135] Subaudiantur autem utriusque sex\u00fbs pudenda.\n\n[FN#136] Subaudiatur vas muliebre.\n\n[FN#137] The word sac (leg), when used in the oblique case, as it\nwould necessarily be here, makes saki, i.e. cup-bearer. A play\nupon the double meaning is evidently intended.\n\n[FN#138] In the East, bathers pay on leaving the bath.\n\n[FN#139] As a styptic.\n\n[FN#140] Dunya.\n\n[FN#141] Semen hominis.\n\n[FN#142] i.e. the rolls of dirt that come off under the bathman's\nhands.\n\n[FN#143] Paradise.\n\n[FN#144] The cold room of the bath.\n\n[FN#145] The hot room.\n\n[FN#146] The door-keeper of hell.\n\n[FN#147] The door-keeper of Paradise.\n\n[FN#148] i.e. Crown of Kings.\n\n[FN#149] An obscure star in the Great Bear.\n\n[FN#150] Zibl means \"dung\" or \"sweepings.\" Can (Khan) means\n\"chief.\"\n\n[FN#151] i.e., Him who fights for the Faith.\n\n[FN#152] A town on the Euphrates, on the borders of Syria and\nMesopotamia.\n\n[FN#153] i.e. recognized him as king by naming him in the public\nprayers.\n\n[FN#154] i.e. the silky whiskers, which it is common, in poetry,\nto call green likening them to newly-sprouted herbage.\n\n[FN#155] i.e. the Day of Judgment.\n\n[FN#156] Ironical.\n\n[FN#157] i.e. Kanmakan.\n\n[FN#158] Meaning, apparently, poisoned.\n\n[FN#159] i.e. with a blow worthy of the members of the family of\nThaalebeb to which (see post, p. 368 {see ...Said he, 'I am Ibad\nben Temin ben Thaalebh, and indeed...}) he belonged.\n\n[FN#160] i.e. his sister.\n\n[FN#161] i.e. benefits.\n\n[FN#162] i.e. new moon.","title":"The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume II","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":137468}