There stood once, behind the mountains of Ispahan, a town called the Green City, in which dwelt a king named Suleiman Shah, a man of virtue and beneficence, just, generous and loyal, to whom travellers resorted from all parts, for his renown was noised abroad in all cities and countries; and he reigned over the country for many years, in all honour and prosperity, save that he had neither wife nor child. Now he had a vizier who was akin to him in goodness and generosity, and one day, he sent for him and said to him, 'O my Vizier, my heart is heavy and my patience at end and my strength fails me, for that I have neither wife nor child. This is not of the fashion of kings that rule over all, princes and beggars; for they rejoice in leaving behind them children, who shall succeed them and by whom both their number and strength are multiplied. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), "Marry and engender and multiply, that I may boast myself of you over the peoples on the Day of Resurrection." So what is thy counsel, O Vizier? Advise me what is fitting to be done.' When the Vizier heard this, the tears streamed from his eyes and he replied, 'God forbid, O king of the age, that I should speak on that which is of the pertinence of the Compassionate One! Wilt thou have me cast into the fire by the wrath of the All-powerful King? Buy a concubine.' 'Know, O Vizier,' rejoined the King, 'that when a prince buys a female slave, he knows neither her condition nor her lineage and thus cannot tell if she be of mean extraction, that he may abstain from her, or of gentle blood, that he may be intimate with her. So if he have commerce with her, belike she will conceive by him and her son be a hypocrite, a tyrant and a shedder of blood. Indeed such a woman may be likened to a salt soil, which, if one till it, yields only worthless crops; for it may be the son in question will be obnoxious to the wrath of his Lord, doing not that which He commandeth him neither abstaining from that which He forbiddeth him. Wherefore I will never risk being the cause of this, through the purchase of a concubine; and it is my will, therefore, that thou demand for me in marriage the daughter of some one of the kings, whose lineage is known and whose beauty is renowned. If thou canst direct me to some king's daughter of the Muslims, who is a woman of good birth and piety, I will seek her hand and marry her before witnesses, that the favour of the Lord of all creatures may accrue to me thereby.' 'O King,' said the Vizier, 'God hath fulfilled thy need and hath brought thee to thy desire; for it hath come to my knowledge that King Zehr Shah, Lord of the White Country, hath a daughter of surpassing beauty, whom report fails to describe; she hath not her equal in this age, being perfect in beauty and symmetry, with melting black eyes and long hair, slender-waisted and heavy-hipped. When she draws nigh, she seduces, and when she turns her back, she slays, ravishing heart and sight, even as says of her the poet:

A slender one, her shape confounds the branch of the cassia tree; Nor sun nor moon can with her face for brightness evened be.
Meseems, the water of her mouth is honey blent with wine; Ay, and her teeth are finer pearls than any in the sea.
The purest white and deepest black meet in her glittering glance And shapelier than the black-eyed maids of Paradise is she.
How many a man her eyes have slain, who perished in despair; The love of her's a way wherein are fear and misery.
If I would live, behold, she's death! I may not think of her, Lest I should die; for, lacking her, life's nothing worth to me.
So it is my counsel, O King, that thou despatch to her father a sagacious and experienced ambassador, versed in the conduct of affairs, who shall with courteous and persuasive speech demand her in marriage for thee; for she hath not her equal in the world, far or near. So shalt thou enjoy her beauty in the way of right and the Lord of Glory be content with thee; for it is reported of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) that he said, "There is no monkery in Islam." At this the King was transported to the perfection of delight; his heart was lightened and his breast dilated and care and anxiety ceased from him; and he said to the Vizier, 'None shall go about this business but thou, by reason of thy consummate wit and good breeding; wherefore do thou make ready by the morrow and depart and demand me this girl in marriage, with whom thou hast made my heart to be engrossed; nor do thou return to me but with her.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the Vizier, and withdrawing to his own house, made ready a present such as befits kings, of jewels and other precious things, light of carriage but heavy of worth, besides Arabian horses and coats of mail, fine-wrought as those which David made, (119) and chests of treasure, such as speech &fails to describe. These all he loaded upon camels and mules and set out, with flags and banners flying before him and attended by a hundred white slaves and the like number of black and a hundred slave-girls. The King charged him to return to him speedily; so he set out, leaving Suleiman Shah on coals of fire, engrossed night and day with desire for the princess, and fared on, without ceasing, night and day, across plains and deserts, till there remained but a day's journey between him and the city to which he was bound. Here he halted on the banks of a river, and calling one of his chief officers, bade him hasten forward to King Zehr Shah and announce his approach. Accordingly, the messenger rode on in haste to the city and was about to enter it, when the King, who chanced to be seated in one of his pleasaunces before the gate, espied him and knowing him for a stranger, bade bring him before him. So when the messenger came into his presence, he informed him of the approach of the Vizier of the mighty King Suleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the mountains of Ispahan; whereat King Zehr Shah rejoiced and bade him welcome. Then he carried him to his palace and said to him, 'Where didst thou leave the Vizier?' 'I left him,' replied the messenger, 'at the first of the day, on the banks of such a river, and he will be with thee to-morrow, may God continue His favours to thee and have mercy upon thy parents!' Whereupon the King commanded one of his Viziers to take the better part of his nobles and chamberlains and officers and grandees and go out to meet the ambassador, in honour of King Suleiman Shah, for that his dominion extended over the country.

Meanwhile, King Suleiman's Vizier abode in his stead, till the night was half spent, when he set out for the city; but hardly had the day appeared and the sun risen upon the hills and plains, when he saw King Zehr Shah's Vizier approaching with his retinue and the two parties joined company at some parasangs' distance from the city. At this the Vizier made sure of the success of his errand and saluted the new-comers, who escorted him to the King's palace and forewent him to the seventh vestibule, where none might enter on horseback, for it was near the presence chamber of the King. So the Vizier alighted and walked on till he came to a lofty hall, at the upper end whereof stood a couch of alabaster, set with pearls end jewels and having four elephants' tusks for feet. It was covered with a mattress of green satin, embroidered with red gold, and surmounted by a canopy adorned with pearls and jewels, and on it sat King Zehr Shah, whilst his officers of state stood in attendance on him. When the Vizier stood before him, he composed himself and loosing his tongue, displayed such skill of speech as befits viziers and saluted the King in eloquent and complimentary language, reciting the following verses in his honour:

He cometh, bending gracefully in his robes and shedding dew Of bounty over the thirsting land and the folk to him that sue.
Indeed, he charmeth; nor amulets nor spells nor magic may Avail to ward off the faithful glance of those his eyes from you.
Say to the censurers, "Blame me not: whilst life abide in me, I'll never swerve from the love of him nor turn to love anew."
Lo, slumber surely is tired of me and fallen in love with him, And even my heart hath played me false and but to him is true!
O heart, thou art not the only one that loves and tenders him, So get thee gone and bide with him and leave me here to rue!
Except the praise of the King Zehr Shah it be that folk acclaim, There's nought rejoices mine ears, in sooth, to hearken thereunto.
A King, the sight of whose glorious face would well thy pains repay; Though thou shouldst lavish thy heart's best blood, so great a grace to woo.
If thou be minded to offer up a pious prayer for him, Thou'lt find but true believer, and sharers the whole world through.
O folk of this realm, if any forswear his governance And look for another, I hold him none of the faithful few.
When the Vizier had made an end of his speech, the King bade him draw near and showed him the utmost honour then seating him by his own side, he smiled in his face and made him a gracious reply. They conversed till the time of the morning-meal, when the attendants brought in the tables of food and they all ate till they were satisfied, after which the tables were removed and all who were present withdrew, with the exception of the chief officers; which when the Vizier saw, he rose to his feet, and after complimenting the King a second time and kissing the earth before him, spoke as follows: 'O mighty king and august prince, I have travelled hither and am come to thee upon an errand, wherein is profit and good and prosperity for thee; and it is that I come as ambassador to thee, seeking the hand of thy noble and illustrious daughter, from the most just, loyal and excellent King Suleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the mountains of Ispahan, who sends thee many and rare presents and gifts of price, ardently desiring thine alliance. Art thou, then, minded to him as he to thee?' And he was silent, awaiting a reply. When the King heard his words he sprang to his feet and kissed the earth respectfully before the Vizier, to the amazement of the bystanders, whose minds were confounded at his condescension to the ambassador. Then he praised Him who is the Lord of glory and honour and replied, still standing, 'O mighty Vizier and illustrious lord, hear what I say. Verily we are of the subjects of King Suleiman Shah and are ennobled by his alliance and aspire ardently thereto. My daughter is one of his handmaids, and it is my dearest wish that he may become my stay and my support in time of need.' Then he summoned the Cadis and the witnesses, who took act that King Suleiman had deputed his Vizier his proxy to conclude the marriage, and King Zehr Shah joyfully consented on behalf of his daughter. So the Cadis drew up the marriage contract and offered up prayers for the happiness and prosperity of the contracting parties; after which the Vizier arose and fetching the gifts and rarities and precious things that he had brought with him, laid them all before the King, who betook himself to the equipment of his daughter, honourably entreating the Vizier and feasting great and small; and they held high festival for two months, omitting nought that could gladden heart and eye. When all was ready that was needful for the bride, the King caused the tents to be pitched without the city and they packed the bride's clothes and jewels in chests and loaded them on mules and camels. Now he had provided his daughter with Greek handmaids and Turkish slave-girls and great store of jewels and precious things, and had let make for her a litter of red gold inlaid with pearls and jewels, which within was as one of the chambers of a palace and without as one of the pavilions of Paradise, whilst its mistress seemed as she were of the lovely hours. Moreover, he furnished her also with twenty mules for the journey and brought her three parasangs forward on her road, after which he bade her and the Vizier farewell and returned to his own city in peace and gladness. Meanwhile, the Vizier and his company fared on by forced marches, traversing plains and deserts and staying not day or night, till they came within three days' journey of King Suleiman's capital, when the Vizier despatched a messenger to acquaint the King with their arrival. The messenger hastened forward till he reached the King's presence and announced to him the coming of the bride, whereat he rejoiced and bestowed on him a dress of honour. Then he bade his troops don their richest apparel and sally forth in grand procession, with banners flying, to meet the princess and her company and do them honour, and let cry throughout the city that neither cloistered damsel nor honoured lady nor infirm old woman should fail to go forth to meet the bride. So they all went out to meet her and the chiefest of them vied in doing her service, meaning to bring her to the King's palace by night. Moreover, the grandees agreed to decorate the road and stand on either side, whilst the bride should pass by, clad in the robes her father had given her and preceded by her eunuchs and serving-women. So at the appointed time, she made her appearance, surrounded by the troops, these on her right hand and those on her left, and the litter ceased not going with her, till they drew near the palace; nor was there any one but came forth to gaze upon the show. The drums beat and the lances were brandished, the trumpets blared and the banners fluttered and the horses pranced, whilst fragrant odours breathed around, till they reached the gate of the palace and the pages entered with the litter through the private gate. The place shone with its splendours and the walls glittered for the lustre of its ornaments. When the night came, the eunuchs threw open the doors of the bride-chamber and stood on either hand; whereupon the bride entered, among her damsels, like the moon among stars or a pearl of matchless beauty in a string of lesser pearls, and seated herself upon a couch of alabaster inlaid with pearls and jewels, that had been set for her there. Then came the King in to her and God filled his heart with love of her; so he did away her maidenhead, and his trouble and disquiet ceased from him. She conceived by him the first night, and he abode with her well-nigh a month, at the end of which time he went forth and seating himself on his throne of state, dispensed justice to his subjects, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished. Towards daybreak on the last night of the ninth month, the queen was seized with the pangs of labour; so she sat down on the stool of delivery and God made the travail easy to her, so that she gave birth to a male child, on whom appeared the signs of happy fortune. When the King heard of this, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and rewarded the bearer of the good tidings with much treasure. Then, of his gladness, he went in to the child and kissed him between the eyes, wondering at his brilliant beauty; for in him was the saying of the poet made truth:

God hath a lion given in him unto the forts of fame And in the heaven of high estate hath set another star.
Lo, at his birth, the spears shake all and all the wild deer start And all the chieftains of the folk and all the men of war!
So mount him not upon the breasts, for he shall surely deem That horses' backs for such as he the softer sitting are;
And wean ye him from sucking milk, for he eftsoon shall find The blood of foemen in the field the sweeter drink by far.
The midwives took the new-born child and cut the cord of his navel, after which they anointed his eyes with kohl and named him Taj el Mulouk Kharan. He was suckled at the breast of delight and reared in the lap of favouring fortune, and the days ran on and the years passed by, till he reached the age of seven. Then the King his father summoned the doctors and learned men and bade them teach his son writing and science and polite letters. This they did for some years, till he had learnt all that was needful, when the King took him out of the professors' hands and committed him to a master, who taught him horsemanship and the use of arms, till the boy attained the age of fourteen and became proficient in martial exercises. Moreover, he outshone all the people of his time for the excess of his beauty; so that, whenever he went abroad on any ocassion, all who saw him were ravished with him and made verses in his honour, and even the virtuous were seduced by his brilliant loveliness. Quoth the poet of him:

A tender branch, that from the breeze hath ta'en its nourishment! I clipped him and straightway became drunk with his sweetest scent;
Not drunken with the drunkenness of one who drinketh wine, But with the honey of his mouth fulfilled of languishment.
All loveliness comprised is within his perfect form, So that o'er all the hearts of men he reigns omnipotent.
By God, forgetfulness of him shall never cross my mind. What while I wear the chains of life, nor even when they're rent!
Lo, if I live, in love of him I'll live; and, if I die Of love-longing for him, I'll say, "O rare! O excellent!"
When he reached his eighteenth year, the tender down began to invade the table of his rosy cheeks, which were adorned by a black mole like a grain of ambergris, and he captivated the minds and eyes of all who looked on him, even as says of him the poet in the following verses:

He is become the Khalif of beauty in Joseph's place; The hearts of all lovers dread him, whenas they see his grace.
Pause thou with me and fasten thy gaze on him! thou'lt see The sign of the Khalifate set in sable (120) on his face.
And as says another:

Thine eyes have never looked upon a fairer sight, Of all the things that are to see beneath the sky,
Than yonder mole of brown, that nestles on his face, Midmost the rosy cheek, beneath the coal-black eye.
And a third:

I marvel at yon mole that serves the fire eternal, Upon his cheek, yet is not burned, all Kafir (121) though it be;
And eke I marvel that he's sent or God, with every glance To work true miracles; and yet a sorcerer is he!
The many gall-bladders that burst for him it is that make The shining fringes of his cheek so black and bright to see.
And yet a fourth:

I wonder to hear the folk ask of the water of life And question in which of the lands its magical fountain flows
Whenas I see it well from the damask lips of a fawn, Under his tender moustache and his cheek's perennial rose.
And eke 'tis a wonder of wonders that Moses, (122) finding it there Flowing, yet took no patience nor laid him down to repose.
When he came to man's estate, his beauty increased and he had many comrades and friends; and every one who drew near to him hoped that he would become Sultan after his father's death and that he himself might be one of his officers. He had a passion for hunting and would hardly leave the chase a single hour. His father would have restrained him, fearing for him the perils of the desert: and the wild beasts; but he paid no heed to him. One day, he bade his attendants take ten days' provender and setting out for the chase, rode on into the desert four days long, at the end of which time he came to a verdant champaign, full of wild beasts pasturing and trees laden with ripe fruit and springs welling forth. Then he said to his followers, 'Set up the nets in a wide circle and let our general rendezvous be at the mouth of the ring, in such a spot.' So they staked out a wide circle with the nets; and there gathered together a multitude of all kinds of wild beasts and gazelles, which cried out for fear of them and threw themselves in terror right in the face of the horses. Then they loosed the dogs and sakers and hunting lynxes on them and smote them with arrows in the vitals; so, by the time they came to the closed end of the ring of nets, they took a great number of the wild beasts, and the rest fled. Then the prince sat down by the water-side and letting spread the game before himself, apportioned it among his men, after he had set apart the choicest thereof for his father King Suleiman and despatched it to him; and other part he divided among the officers of his court. He passed the night in that place, and when it was morning, there came up a caravan of merchants, with their slaves and servants, and halted by the water and the verdure. When Taj el Mulouk saw this, he said to one of his companions, 'Go, bring me news of yonder folk and ask them why they have halted here.' So the man went up to them and said, 'Tell me who ye are, and answer quickly.' 'We are merchants,' replied they, 'and have halted here to rest, for that the next station is distant and we have confidence in King Suleiman Shah and his son Taj el Mulouk, knowing that all who alight in their dominions are in peace and safety; and we have with us precious stuffs, that we have brought for the prince.' The messenger returned with this news to the prince, who said, I will not depart hence till I see what they have brought for me. Then he mounted and rode to the caravan, followed by his servants. The merchants rose to receive him and invoked on him the aid and favour of God, with continuance of glory and virtues; after which they pitched him a pavilion of red satin, emblazoned with pearls and jewels, in which they spread him a royal divan, upon a silken carpet embroidered at the upper end with emeralds. The prince seated himself on the divan, whilst his servants stood in attendance upon him, and bade the merchants bring out all that they had with them. Accordingly, they produced all their merchandise, and he viewed it and took of it what liked him, paying them the price. Then he remounted and was about to ride onward, when his eyes fell on a handsome young man, well dressed and elegantly made, with flower-white forehead and face brilliant as the moon, save that his beauty was wasted and that pallor had invaded his cheeks by reason of separation from those he loved: sighing and lamentation were grievous upon him and the tears streamed from his eyelids, as he repeated the following verses:

Absence is long and care and fear are heavy on my soul, Whilst from mine eyes the tears, O friend, without cessation roll.
Alas, I left my heart behind upon the parting day, And now sans heart, sans hope, abide all lonely in my dole.
Pause with me, O my friend, what while I take my leave of one By whose sweet speech diseases all and sorrows are made whole.
Having said this, he wept awhile and fell down in a swoon, whilst Taj el Mulouk looked at him wonderingly then coming to himself, he stared fixedly before him, with distracted air, and repeated these other verses:

I rede thee beware of her glance, for, lo, 'tis a wizard, I ween! None 'scapeth unscathed of the shafts of her eyes, that has gazed on their sheen.
For, trust me, black eyes, that are armed with the grace of a languorous look, Are swifter and sharper to wound than scimitars, tempered and keen.
And let not thy mind be beguiled by the sweet and the soft of her words; For the fever that springs from her speech o'ermasters the senses, demesne.
Soft-sided, were silk but to press on her skin, it would cause it to bleed, So delicate-bodied she is and so nesh, as forsooth thou hast seen.
Right chary she is of the charms 'twixt her neck and her anklets that lie, And what is the sweetest of scents to the fragrance that breathes from my queen!
Then he gave a sob and swooned away a second time. When Taj el Mulouk saw him thus, he was perplexed about his case and went up to him. So when he came to himself and saw the prince standing by him, he sprang to his feet and kissed the earth before him; and Taj el Mulouk said to him, 'Why didst thou not show us thy merchandise?' 'O my lord,' answered the young merchant, 'there is nought among my stock worthy of thine august highness.' 'It matters not,' said the prince, 'thou must show me what thou hast and acquaint me with thy case; for I see thee weeping-eyed and mournful-hearted. If thou hast been wronged, we will do away thine oppression, and if thou be in debt, we will discharge thy debt; for my heart aches for thee, since I first set eyes on thee.' Then he called for seats and they set him a chair of ebony and ivory, netted with gold and silk, and spread him a silken carpet. So he sat down on the chair and bidding the young merchant seat himself on the carpet, again commanded him to show him his merchandise. 'O my lord,' said he, 'do not name this to me; for I have nought worthy of thee.' 'I will have it so,' rejoined Taj el Mulouk and bade some of the servants fetch the goods. So they brought them in spite of the merchant; and when he saw this, the tears streamed from his eyes and he wept and sighed and lamented; sobs rose from his bosom and he repeated the following verses:

By the witching amorous sweetness and the blackness of thine eyes, By the tender flexile softness in thy slender waist that lies,
By the graces and the languor of thy body and thy shape, By the fount of wine and honey from thy coral lips that rise,
O my hope, to see thine image in my dreams were sweeter far Than were safety to the fearful, languishing in woful wise!
Then he opened his bales and displayed their contents to Taj el Mulouk, piece by piece, till he came to a mantle of satin brocaded with gold, worth two thousand dinars from which, when he opened it, there fell a piece of linen. As soon as he saw this, he caught up the piece of linen in haste and hid it under his thigh; and indeed he seemed as though he had lost his reason, and he repeated the following verses:

When shall my sad tormented heart be healed, alas, of thee? The Pleiades were nearer far than is thy grace to me.
Distance estrangement, longing pain and fire of love laid waste, Procrastination and delay, in these my life doth flee.
For no attainment bids me live nor exile slays me quite, Travel no nigher doth me bring, nor wilt thou nearer be.
There is no justice to be had of thee nor any ruth In thee; no winning to thy grace and yet no breaking free.
Alack, for love of thee, the ways are straitened all on me; So that I know not where I go nor any issue see!
The prince wondered greatly at his behaviour, and said to him, 'What is that piece of linen?' 'O my lord,' replied the merchant, 'thou hast no concern with it.' 'Show it me,' said the prince; and the merchant answered, 'O my lord, it was on account of this piece of linen that I refused to show thee my goods; for I cannot let thee look on it.' But Taj el Mulouk rejoined, 'I must and will see it;' and insisted and became angry. So he drew it out from under his thigh, weeping and lamenting and redoubling his sighs and groans, and repeated the following verses:

Blame ye the lover not, for blame but irketh him to hear; Indeed, I spoke him truth, but he to me would lend no ear.
God have her in His care, my moon that rises far away, Down in the valley, midst the camp, from out the collars' sphere! (123)
I left her; would to God my love had left me peace of life! So had I never parted been from her that held me dear.
O how she pleaded for my sake upon our parting day, What while adown her cheeks and mine tear followed upon tear!
May God belie me not! The wede of my excuse from me Was all to rent for loss of her; but I will mend my cheer.
No bed is easy to my side, nor is her resting-place Ayemore reposeful unto her, now I'm no longer near.
For Fate with an ill-omened hand hath wrought upon our loves And hindered me from my delight and her from hers, yfere.
Indeed, what time it filled the cup, whereof she drank what I E'en made her drink, it poured us out grief, all unmixed and sheer.
Quoth Taj el Mulouk, 'Thy conduct perplexes me; tell me why thou weepest at the sight of this piece of linen.' When the young merchant heard speak of the piece of linen, he sighed and answered, 'O my lord, my story is a strange and eventful one, with regard to this piece of linen and her from whom I had it and her who wrought the figures and emblems that be thereon.' So saying, he unfolded the piece of linen, and behold, thereon were the figures of two gazelles, facing one another, one wrought in silk and gold and the other in silver with a ring of red gold and three bugles of chrysolite about its neck. When Taj el Mulouk saw the figures and the beauty of their fashion, he exclaimed, 'Glory be to God who teacheth man that which he knoweth not!' And his heart was filled with longing to hear the merchant's story; so he said to him, 'Tell me thy story with her who gave thee these gazelles.' 'Know, O my lord,' replied the young man, 'that

Story of Aziz and Azizeh.

My father was one of the chief merchants (of my native town) and God had vouchsafed him no other child than myself; but I had a cousin, the daughter of my father's brother, who was brought up with me in our house; for her father was dead and before his death, he had agreed with my father that I should marry her. So when I reached man's estate and she became a woman, they did not separate us, and we ceased not to sleep on the same couch, knowing no evil, albeit she was more thoughtful, more intelligent and quicker-witted than I, till at last, my father spoke to my mother and said, "This very year we will draw up the contract of marriage between Aziz and Azizeh." So they agreed upon this, and he betook himself to preparing victual for the marriage festivities. When he had made an end of his preparations and there remained nought but to draw up the contract and consummate the marriage, he appointed the wedding for a certain Friday, after the congregational prayers, and going round to his friends among the merchants and others, acquainted them with this, whilst my mother invited her female friends and kindred. When the day came, they cleaned the guest-chamber and washed the marble floor, then spread carpets about the house and set out thereon what was needful, after they had hung the walls with cloth of gold. Now the folk had agreed to come to our house after the Friday-prayers; so my father went and let make cates and dishes of sweetmeats, and there remained nothing to do but to draw up the contract. Then my mother sent me to the bath and sent after me a suit of new clothes of the richest kind which I put on, when I came out. The clothes were perfumed, and as I went along, there exhaled from them a delicious fragrance, that scented the way. I was about to repair to the mosque, when I bethought me of one of my friends and was minded to go in quest of him that he might be present at the drawing up of the contract, saying in myself, "This will occupy me till near the time of prayer." So I turned back and came to a by-street, that I had never before entered. Now I was in a profuse perspiration, from the effects of the bath and the new clothes on my body, and the sweat streamed from me, whilst the perfume of my clothes was wafted abroad: so I sat down to rest on a stone bench at the upper end of the street, spreading under me an embroidered handkerchief I had with me. The heat redoubled on me, so that my forehead sweated and the drops ran down on to my cheeks; but I could not wipe my face with my handkerchief, because I lay upon it. So I was about to take the skirt of my gaberdine and wipe my cheeks with it, when suddenly there fell on me from above a white handkerchief, softer to the feel than the zephyr and pleasanter to the sight than recovery to the sick. I seized on it and looking up to see whence it came, my eyes met those of the lady who gave me these gazelles. She was looking out of a wicket in a lattice of brass and never saw my eyes a fairer than she; my tongue fails to picture her beauty. When she saw me looking at her, she put her forefinger to her mouth, then joined her middle and index fingers and laid them on her bosom, between her breasts; after which she drew in her head and shut the wicket. With this, fire broke out and raged in my heart; the glance I had of her cost me a thousand sighs and I abode perplexed, having heard no word from her and understanding not the meaning of her signs. I looked again at the window, but found it shut and waited till sundown. but heard no sound and saw no one. When I despaired of seeing her again, I rose and taking up the handkerchief, opened it, whereupon there exhaled from it a scent of musk, which caused me such ease that meseemed I was in Paradise. Then I spread it out before me and there dropped from it a little scroll of paper. I opened the scroll, which was scented with a delicious perfume, and found written therein the following verses:

I sent my love a scroll, complaining of desire Writ in a fine, small hand; for writings vary still.
"Why is thy writing thus," my lover said to me, "Attenuate and small, uneath to read and ill?"
Quoth I, "Because I too am wasted, ay, and thin. Thus should their writing be, who weary at Love's will."
Then, casting my eyes on the beauty of the handkerchief, I saw embroidered on one of its borders the following verses:

The down of his whiskers writes (good luck to it for A scribe!) Two lines, in the basil (124) hand, on the table of his face.
O the wilderment of the moon at him, when he appears! And O the shame of the branch at sight of his flexile grace!
And on the opposite border were the following verses:

The whiskers write upon his cheeks, with ambergris on pearl, Two lines, as 'twere with jet upon an apple, line for line.
Death harbours in his languid eyes and slays with every glance; And in his cheeks is drunkenness, and not in any wine.
When I read what was written on the handkerchief, the flames of love raged in my heart, and longing and trouble redoubled on me. So I took the handkerchief and the scroll and went home, knowing no means to compass my desire, for that I was inexperienced in love affairs and unskilled in the interpretation of the language of signs used therein. The night was far spent before I reached my house, and when I entered, I found my cousin sitting weeping. As soon as she saw me, she wiped away her tears and coming up to me, took off my (outer) clothes and asked me the reason of my absence, saying, "All the folk, amirs and notables and merchants and others, assembled here, and the Cadi and the witnesses came also at the appointed time. They ate and sat awhile, awaiting thy coming for the drawing up of the contract, till they despaired of thee, when they dispersed and went their ways. And indeed," added she, "thy father was exceeding wroth, by reason of this, and swore that he would not celebrate our marriage till next year, for that he hath spent much money on this occasion. What hath befallen thee to make thee tarry till now?" "O my cousin," replied I, "do not ask me what hath befallen me." Then I told her all that had passed and showed her the handkerchief and the scroll. She took them and read what was written therein; whereupon the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated the following verses:
Who says to thee, the first of love is free, Tell him, not so; but, on the contrary,
'Tis all constraint, wherein no blame can be. History indeed attests this verity;
It does not style the good coin falsified.
Say, if thou wilt, the taste of pain is sweet, Or to be spurned by Fortune's flying feet;
Of need or vengeance, fortune or defeat, With joy or dole it makes the heart to beat:
'Twixt phrase and counterphrase I'm stupefied.
But as for him whose happy days are light, Fair maids, whose lips with smiles are ever bright,
Borne on the fragrant gales of their delight, Who hath his will, unhindered of despite,
'Tis not with him A craven heart may bide.
Then she asked me what she said and what signs she made to me. "She spoke not," answered I ; "but put her index finger to her mouth, then joining it to her middle finger, laid them both on her bosom and pointed in the ground, after which she drew in her head and shut the wicket and I saw her no more. She took my heart with her and I sat till sundown, expecting her to appear again at the window; but she came not: so, when I despaired of her, I rose and went home. This is my story, and I beg thee to help me in this my affliction." With this, she raised her face to me and said, "O my cousin, if thou soughtest my eye, I would tear it from its socket for thee, and I cannot choose but help thee to thy desire and her also to hers; for she is passionately enamoured of thee, even as thou of her." "And what is the meaning of her signs?" asked I. "As for the putting her finger to her mouth," replied Azizeh, "it meant that thou art to her as her soul to her body and that she would bite upon union with thee with her wisdom-teeth. The handkerchief is the token of greeting from lover to beloved and the scroll is a sign that her heart is bound up in thee. As for the laying her two fingers between her breasts, it is as if she said to thee, 'Return hither after two days, that the sight of thy countenance may dispel my anguish.' For know, O my cousin, that she loves thee and trusts in thee. This is my reading of her signs, and could I come and go at will, I would quickly bring you and her together and cover you both with my skirt." I thanked her and said to myself, "I will wait two days." So I abode two days in the house, without going out, and ate not nor drank, but lay with my head in my cousin's lap, whilst she comforted me and bade me take heart and be of good cheer. When the two days were past, she said to me, "Take courage and dress thyself and go to her, according to the tryst." Then she rose and changed my clothes and perfumed me with incense. So I took heart and went out and walked on till I came to the by-street, where I sat down on the bench. After awhile, the wicket opened and I looked up and seeing the lady, fell down in a swoon. When I revived, I took courage to look again at her and again became insensible. Then I came to myself and looking at her, saw that she had a mirror and a red handkerchief in her hand. When she saw me, she bared her forearms and smote her breast with her palm and five fingers; after which she raised her hands and holding the mirror forth of the wicket, took the red handkerchief and retired with it, but immediately returned and putting out her hand with the handkerchief, lowered it towards the ground and raised it again three several times. Then she wrung it out and folded it in her hands, bowing her head the while; after which she drew in her head and shutting the window, went away, without saying a word, leaving me confounded and knowing not what she meant. I sat there till the evening and did not return home till near midnight, when I found my cousin sitting, weeping bitterly and repeating the following verses:

Ah me, what ails the censurer, that he at thee should flite? How shall I be consoled for thee, and thou a sapling slight?
O thou, the splendour of whose sight has ta'en my heart by storm, Whose supple bending grace compels to passion's utmost height, (125)
Whose eyes, with Turkish languor caught, work havoc in the breast And leave such wounds as ne'er were made by falchion in the fight!
Thou layst on me a heavy load of passion and desire, On me that am too weak to bear a shift upon me dight.
Ay, tears of blood I weep, for that my censors say to me, "A sudden sword, from out his lids thou lovest, shall thee smite."
Ah, would my heart were like to thine, even as my body is Like to thy waist, all thin and frail and dwindled for despite!
Thou, that my prince in beauty art, a steward (126) hast, whose rule Aggrieves me and a chamberlain (127) that doth me foul upright.
He lies who says, "All loveliness in Joseph was comprised." How many Josephs are there not within thy beauty bright!
I force myself to turn from thee, for fear of spying eyes, Though sore it irks me to forswear the solace of thy sight.
At this, trouble and grief redoubled on me and I fell down in a corner; whereupon she sprang up and coming to me, lifted me up and took off my outer clothes and wiped my face with her sleeve. Then she asked me how I had fared, and I told her all that had happened. "O my cousin," said she, "as for her sign to thee with her palm and five fingers, it meant, 'Return after five days;' and her gestures with the mirror and the putting forth of her head and the lowering and raising of the red handkerchief meant, 'Sit in the dyer's shop, till my messenger come to thee.'" When I heard this, fire flamed up in my heart and I exclaimed, "O my cousin, by Allah, thou sayst sooth in this thine interpretation; for I saw the shop of a Jewish dyer in the street." Then I wept, and she said, "O my cousin, summon up resolution and be steadfast of heart: others are occupied with love for years and are constant to endure the ardour of passion, whilst thou hast but a week (128) to wait; so why art thou thus impatient?" Then she went on to cheer me with comfortable talk and brought me food: so I took a mouthful, but could not eat and abstained from meat and drink and knew not the solace of sleep, till my colour paled and I lost my good looks; for I had never before been in love nor tasted the ardour of passion. So I fell sick and my cousin also sickened on my account; but every night she would divert me with stories of love and lovers, till I fell asleep; and whenever I awoke, I used to find her wakeful for my sake, with the tears running down her cheeks. Thus we did till the five days were past, when she rose and heating water, bathed me with it. Then she dressed me and said to me, "Go to her and may God fulfil your wish and bring thee to thy desire of thy beloved!" So I went out and walked on, till I came to the by-street. I found the dyer's shop shut, for it was Saturday, and sat before it, till I heard the call to afternoon-prayer. Then the sun turned pale, the Muezzins chanted the call to the prayer of sunset and the night came; but I saw no sign nor heard aught of her. With this, I feared for myself, sitting there alone; so I rose and went home, staggering like a drunken man. When I reached the house, I found my cousin Azizeh standing, with one hand grasping a peg driven into the wall and the other on her breast; and she was sighing heavily and repeating the following verses:

The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folk are far away, Who yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the hay, (129)
Whose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water serve And eke her passion, with its heat, their bivouac-fire purvey,
Is not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love, Who deems that I commit a crime in loving him alway.
When she had finished, she turned and seeing me, wiped away her tears and mine with her sleeve. Then she smiled in my face and said, "O my cousin, God grant thee joy of that which He hath given thee! Why didst thou not pass the night with thy beloved and why hast thou not fulfilled thy desire of her?" When I heard what she said, I gave her a kick in the breast and she fell over on to the edge of the estrade and struck her forehead against a peg there. I looked at her and saw that her forehead was cut open and the blood running; but she was silent and did not utter a syllable. She made some tinder of rags and staunching the wound with it, bound her forehead with a bandage; after which she wiped up the blood that had fallen on the carpet, and it was as if nothing had happened. Then she came up to me and smiling in my face, said, with gentle speech, "By Allah, O my cousin, I had it not in my thought to mock at thee or at her! I was troubled with a pain in my head and thought to be let blood, but now thou hast eased my head and brow; so tell me what has befallen thee to-day." So I told her what had passed and she wept and said, "O my cousin, rejoice in the near fulfilment of thy desire and the attainment of thy hopes. Verily, this is a sign of acceptance; she only stayed away, because she wished to try thee and know if thou wert patient and sincere in thy love for her or not. To-morrow, do thou go to her at the old place and note what signs she makes to thee; for indeed thy gladness is near and the end of thy grief is at hand." And she went on to comfort me; but my trouble and affliction ceased not to increase on me. Presently, she brought me food, but I kicked the dishes away, so that their contents were scattered in all directions, and said, "Every lover is a madman; he inclines not to food neither enjoys sleep." "By Allah, O my cousin," answered she, "these are indeed the signs of love!" And the tears streamed down her cheeks, whilst she gathered the fragments of the dishes and wiped up the food; then she sat down by me and talked to me, whilst I prayed God to hasten the coming of the day. When, at last, the morning arose with its light and shone, I went out and hastening to the by-street in question, sat down on the bench, when behold, the wicket opened and she put out her head, laughing. Then she went in and returned with a mirror, a bag, a pot of flowering plants and a lamp. First, she took the mirror and putting it into the bag, tied it up and threw it back into the room; after which she let down her hair over her face and set the lamp an instant on the pot of flowers; then took up all the things and shutting the window, went away, without saying a word. My heart was tortured by her obscure signs and mysterious gestures, and passion and distraction redoubled on me. So I retraced my steps, tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, and returning home, found Azizeh sitting, with her face to the wall; for her heart was on fire for grief and anxiety and jealousy; albeit the love she bore me forbade her to acquaint me with what she suffered, by reason of what she saw of the excess of my passion and distraction (for another). I looked at her and saw that she had two bandages on her head, one on account of the wound on her forehead, and the other over her eye, which pained her for excess of weeping; and she was in very sorry plight, weeping and repeating the following verses:

I count the nights, night after night, the weary nights and slow; Yet would I, once upon a time, unreckoned let them go.
I have no knowledge, O my friend, of that which God ordains Of Leila or what He decrees to me, but this I know
He to another her adjudged and cursed me with her love: So hath He not afflicted me with other than her woe.
When she had finished, she looked round and seeing me through her tears, wiped them away and came up to me, but could not speak for excess of emotion. So she was silent awhile, then said to me, "O my cousin, tell me what befell thee with her this time." So I told her all that had passed, and she said, "Be patient, for the time of thy delight is come, and thou hast won to the attainment of thy hopes. As for her sign with the mirror and the bag, it was as if she said to thee, 'When the sun is set;' and the letting down of her hair over her face signified, When the night is come and hath let fall the blackness of the dark and overmastered the daylight, come hither.' As for her gesture with the flower-pot and the lamp, it meant, 'When thou comest, enter the garden behind the street, and where as thou seest the lamp burning, go thither and seat thyself beneath it and wait for me; for the love of thee is killing me.'" When I heard this, I cried out for excess of passion and said, "How long wilt thou deceive me with promises and I go to her, but get not my will nor find any truth in thine interpreting?" At this, she laughed and replied, "Thou needest but have patience for the rest of the day, till the light depart and the night come with the darkness, and thou shalt enjoy fruition and accomplish thy hopes. And indeed this is true without leasing." And she repeated the following verses:

Let the days pass, as they list, and fare, And enter thou not the house of despair.
Full oft when the quest of a thing is hard, The next hour brings us the end of our care.
Then she came to me and began to comfort me with soothing words, but dared not offer me food, fearing my wrath and seeking to make me incline to her: so she only took off my upper garment and said to me, "Sit, O my cousin, that I may entertain thee with talk, till the end of the day; and God willing, thou shalt be with thy beloved as soon as it is night." But I paid no heed to her and gave not over looking for the coming of the night, saying, "O Lord, hasten the coming of the night!" till the hour of the evening-prayer, when she wept sore and giving me a grain of pure musk, said to me, "O my cousin, put this in thy mouth, and when thou foregatherest with thy beloved and hast taken thy will of her and she hath granted thee thy desire, repeat to her this verse:

Tell me, O lovers, for God's sake, I do entreat of you, When love is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?
And she kissed me and made me swear not to repeat this to my mistress, till I should be about to leave her. Then I went out and walked on till I came to the garden. I found the door open; so I entered, and seeing a light in the distance, made towards it and came to a great pavilion, vaulted over with a dome of ivory and ebony, from the midst of which hung the lamp. The floor was spread with silken carpets, embroidered in gold and silver, and under the lamp stood a great candle, burning in a stand of gold. Midmost the pavilion was a fountain, adorned with all manner of figures; and by it stood a table of food, covered with a silken napkin, and a great porcelain vase full of wine, with a goblet of crystal, sprayed with gold. Near these was a great covered dish of silver, which I uncovered and found therein fruits of all kinds, figs and pomegranates and grapes and oranges and citrons and shaddocks, together with all manner sweet-scented flowers, such as roses and jasmine and myrtle and eglantine and narcissus and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs; but I saw there not a living soul, no, not even a slave, male or female, to guard these things. I was transported with delight at what I saw, and my grief and anxiety ceased from me. So I sat down to await the coming of the beloved of my heart: but the first hour of the night passed by, and the second and the third, and still she came not. Then I grew sore an hungred, for that it was long since I had tasted food by reason of the violence of my passion: but when I found the garden even as my cousin had told me and saw the truth of her interpretation of my mistress's signs, my mind was set at rest and I made sure of attaining my desire, so that nature resumed its sway and I felt the pangs of hunger. Moreover the odour of the viands on the table excited in me a longing to eat: so I went up to the table, and lifting the cover, found in the middle a porcelain dish, containing four fricasseed fowls, seasoned with spices, round which were four smaller dishes, one containing sweetmeats, another conserve of pomegranate-seeds, a third almond patties and a fourth honey fritters, and the contents of these dishes were part sweet and part acid. So I ate of the fritters and a piece of meat, then went on to the almond patties and ate what I would of them; after which I attacked the sweetmeats, of which I ate a spoonful or two or three or four, ending with part of a fowl and a mouthful of bread. With this my stomach became full and my limbs heavy and I grew drowsy; so I laid my head on a cushion, after having washed my hands, and sleep overcame me; and I knew not what happened to me after this nor did I awake till the sun's heat burnt me, for that I had not tasted sleep for days. When I awoke, I found myself lying on the naked marble, with a piece of salt and another of charcoal on my stomach; so I stood up and shook my clothes and turned right and left, but could see no one. At this I was perplexed and afflicted; the tears ran down my cheeks and I mourned grievously for myself. Then I returned home, and when I entered, I found my cousin beating her bosom and weeping like the rain-clouds, as she repeated the following verses:

From out my loved one's land a breeze blows cool and sweet: The fragrance of its wafts stirs up the ancient heat.
Blow, zephyr of the East! Each lover hath his lot, His heaven-appointed doom of fortune or defeat.
Lo, if we might, we would embrace thee for desire, Even as a lover clips his mistress, when they meet.
Whenas my cousin's face is absent, God forbids All pleasance [unto me] and all life has of sweet.
Ah, would I knew his heart was even as is mine, All wasted and consumed by passion's flaming feet!
When she saw me, she rose in haste and wiping away her tears, accosted me with her soft speech, saying, "O my cousin, verily God hath been gracious to thee in thy love, in that she whom thou lovest loves thee, whilst I pass my time in weeping and lamenting my separation from thee that blamest and chidest me; but may God not reproach thee for my sake!" Then she smiled in my face, a sad smile, and caressed me; then taking off my outer clothes, she spread them out and said, "By Allah, this is not the scent of one who hath enjoyed his mistress! Tell me what has befallen thee, O my cousin." So I told her all that had passed, and she smiled again, a sad smile, and said, 'Verily, my heart is full of pain; but may he not live who would hurt thy heart! Indeed, this woman makes herself extravagantly difficult to thee, and by Allah, I fear for thee from her. Know that the meaning of the salt is that thou wert drowned in sleep and she likens thee to insipid food, at which the soul sickens; and it is as if she said to thee, 'It behoves that thou be salted, lest nature reject thee. Thou professest to be of the true lovers, but sleep is forbidden to a lover; therefore, thy love is false.' But it is her love for thee that is false; for she saw thee asleep, yet awoke thee not, and were her love for thee sincere, she had aroused thee. As for the charcoal, it means, 'God blacken thy face, for that thou makest a lying presence of love, whereas thou art but a child and hast no concern but to eat and drink and sleep!' This is the interpretation of her signs, and may God the Most High deliver thee from her!" When I heard my cousin's words, I beat my breast with my hand and cried out, "By Allah, this is the truth, for I slept and lovers sleep not! Indeed, I have sinned against myself, for nought could have done me more hurt than eating and sleeping. What shall I do!" Then I wept sore and said to her, "Have compassion on me and tell me what to do, so may God have compassion on thee: else I shall die." Now my cousin loved me very dearly; so she replied, "On my head and eyes. But, O my cousin, as I have told thee often, could I go in and out at will, I would very soon bring you together and cover you both with my skirt: nor would I do this but hoping to win thy favour. God willing, I will do my utmost endeavour to bring about your union; but hearken thou to me and do as I bid thee. Go to the garden at nightfall and sit down in the same place and look thou eat not, for eating induces sleep; and beware of sleeping, for she will not come to thee, till a fourth part of the night be passed. And may God save thee from her mischief!" When I heard this, I rejoiced and besought God to hasten the night. As soon as it was dark, I rose to go, and my cousin said to me, "If thou foregather with her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee, at the time of leave-taking." "On my head and eyes," replied I, and going out, repaired to the garden, where I found all as on the previous night, with meat and drink spread ready, and dessert and flowers and so forth. I went up into the pavilion and smelt the odour of the viands and my soul lusted after them; but I forbore awhile, till at last I could no longer restrain my appetite. So I went up to the table, and raising the cover, found a dish of fowls, surrounded by four smaller dishes, containing various meats. I ate a mouthful of each dish and a piece of meat and as much as I would of the sweetmeat: then I tasted a dish of rice dressed with honey and saffron and liking it, supped of it by the spoonful, till I was satisfied and my belly was full. With this, my eyelids became heavy; so I took a cushion and put it under my head, saying, "Surely I can recline upon it, without going to sleep." Then I closed my eyes and slept, nor did I wake till the sun had risen, when I found myself lying on the bare marble, with a die of bone, a play-stick, (130) a green date-stone (131) and a carob-bean on my stomach. There was no furniture nor aught else in the place, and it was as if there had been nothing there yesterday. So I rose and shaking all these things off me, went out in a rage, and going home, found my cousin sighing and repeating the following verses:

Wasted body and heart a-bleeding for despair And tears that down my cheeks stream on and on for e'er,
And a beloved one persistent in disdain; Yet all a fair one does must needs be right and fair.
O cousin mine, thou'st filled my heart with longing pain And wounded are mine eyes with tears that never spare.
I chid her and reviled her, at which she wept; then wiping away her tears, she came up to me and kissed me and pressed me to her bosom, whilst I held back from her and blamed myself. Then she said to me, "O my cousin, meseems thou didst sleep again last night?" "Yes," replied I; "and when I awoke, I found on my stomach a die of bone, a play-stick, a green date-stone and a carob-bean, and I know not why she did this." Then I wept and said to her, "Expound to me her meaning in this and tell me what I shall do and help me in this my strait." "On my head and eyes," answered she. "Know then that, by the figure of the die and the play-stick, she says to thee, 'Thy body is present, but thy heart absent. Love is not thus: so do not reckon thyself among lovers.' As for the date-stone, it is as if she said to thee, 'If thou wert in love, thy heart would be on fire with passion and thou wouldst not taste the delight of sleep; for the sweet of love is like a green date and kindles a fire in the entrails.' As for the carob-bean, it signifies, 'The lover's heart is wearied; so be thou patient under our separation, even as Job was patient.'" When I heard this, fires raged in my entrails and grief redoubled upon my heart and I cried out, saying, "God ordained sleep to me, of my ill-fortune!" Then I said to her, "O my cousin, I conjure thee by my life, contrive me some device whereby I may win to her!" She wept and answered, "O Aziz, O my cousin, verily my heart is full of melancholy thought and I cannot speak: but go thou again to-night to the same place and look that thou sleep not, and thou shalt surely attain thy desire. This is my counsel and peace be on thee." "God willing," said I, "I will not sleep, but will do as thou biddest me." Then she rose and set food before me, saying, "Eat now what may suffice thee, that thy heart may be free." So I ate my fill, and when the night came, my cousin rose and bringing me a sumptuous suit of clothes, clad me therein. Then she made me promise to repeat the verse aforesaid to my mistress and bade me beware of sleeping. So I left her and repairing to the garden, went up into the pavilion, where I occupied myself with gazing on the garden, holding my eyes open with my fingers and wagging my head from side to side, as the night darkened on me. Presently I grew hungry with watching, and the smell of the meats, being wafted towards me, increased my hunger: so I went up to the table and taking off the cover, ate a piece of meat and a mouthful of every dish; after which I turned to the vessel of wine, saying in myself, "I will drink one cup." So I drank one cup and a second and a third, till I had drunk full half a score, when the air smote me and I fell to the earth like a dead man. I lay thus till day, when I awoke and found myself without the garden, with a large sharp knife and an iron dirhem (132) on my stomach. I arose trembling and taking the knife and the dirhem, went home where I found my cousin saying, "Verily, I am in this house wretched and sorrowful, having no helper but weeping." When I entered, I fell down at full length and fainted, throwing the knife and the dirhem from my hand. As soon as I came to myself, I told her what had passed and said, "Indeed, I shall never enjoy my desire." The sight of my tears and my passion redoubled her distress on my account, and she said, "Verily, I can no more. I warned thee against sleeping; but thou wouldst not listen to my counsel, and my words profited thee nothing." "By Allah," cried I, "I conjure thee to explain to me the meaning of the knife and the dirhem." "By the dirhem," replied she, "she alludes to her right eye, and it is as if she said to thee, 'I swear, by the Lord of all creatures and by my right eye, that, if thou come here again and sleep, I will slay thee with this knife!' And indeed, O my cousin, I fear for thee from her malice; my heart is full of anguish for thee and I cannot speak. Nevertheless, if thou canst be sure of thyself not to sleep, return to her and thou shalt attain thy desire; but if thou sleep, according to thy wont, she will surely slay thee." "O my cousin," said I, "what shall I do? I conjure thee, by Allah, to help me in this my affliction!" "On my head and eyes," replied she. "If thou wilt hearken to me and do as I say, thou shalt have thy will." Quoth I, "I will indeed hearken to thee and do thy bidding." And she said, "When it is time for thee to go, I will tell thee." Then she pressed me to her bosom and laying me on the bed, rubbed my feet, till drowsiness overcame me and I was drowned in sleep; when she took a fan and seating herself at my head, ceased not to fan my face till the end of the day. Then she awoke me, and I found her sitting at my head weeping, with the fan in her hand and her clothes wet with tears. When she saw that I was awake, she wiped away her tears and fetching food, set it before me. I refused it, but she said to me, "Didst thou not promise to do my bidding? Eat." So I ate and did not cross her, and she proceeded to put the food into my mouth and I to eat, till I was full. Then she made me drink sherbet of jujube-fruit and sugar and washed my hands and dried them with a napkin; after which she sprinkled me with rose-water, and I sat with her awhile, restored to health and spirits. When the night had closed in, she dressed me and said to me, "O my cousin, watch all night and sleep not; for she will not come to thee this time till the last of the night, and God willing, thou shalt foregather with her this night: but do not forget my charge." Then she wept, and my heart was sore for her by reason of her much weeping, and I said to her, "What is the charge thou gavest me?" "When thou art about to take leave of her," replied she, "repeat to her the verse I taught thee." So I left her, full of gladness, and repairing to the garden, entered the pavilion, where I sat down satiated with food, and watched till a fourth part of the night was past. The night was tedious to me as it were a year: but I remained awake, till it was three quarters spent and the cocks cried out and I became sore an hungred for long watching. So I went up to the table and ate my fill, whereupon my head grew heavy and I was on the point of falling asleep, when I espied a light making towards me from afar. So I sprang up and washed my hands and mouth and roused myself; and before long, up came the lady, accompanied by ten damsels, in whose midst she shone, like the full moon among the stars. She was clad in a dress of green satin, embroidered with red gold, and she was as says the poet:

She lords it over her lovers in garments all of green, With open vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.
"What is thy name?" I asked her, and she replied, "I'm she Who burns the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen."
I made my moan unto her of passion and desire; "Upon a rock," she answered, "thy plaints are wasted clean."
"Even if thy heart," I told her, "be rock in very deed, Yet hath God made fair water well from the rock, I ween."
When she saw me, she laughed and said, "How is it that thou art awake and that sleep hath not overcome thee. Now that thou hast passed the night without sleep, I know that thou art in love, for it is the mark of a lover to watch the night for stress of longing." Then she signed to her women and they went away, whereupon she came up to me and strained me to her bosom and kissed me and sucked my upper lip, whilst I kissed her and sucked her lower lip. I put my hand to her waist and pressed it and we came to the ground at the same moment. Then she undid her trousers and they fell down to her anklets and we fell to clipping and toying and cricketing and speaking softly and biting and intertwining of legs and going round about the House and the corners thereof, (133) till her senses failed her for delight and she swooned away. And indeed that night was heart-gladdening and eye-refreshing, even as says the poet:

The sweetest of all the nights that ever the world can show! The cup in it stinted never from hand to hand to go.
Therein I did dissever mine eyes from sleep and made The ear-drop (134) and the anklet (135) foregather evermo'.
We lay together till the morning, when I would have gone away, but she stopped me, saying, "Stay, till I tell thee somewhat and give thee a charge." So I waited, whilst she undid a handkerchief and taking out this piece of linen, spread it out before me. I saw worked on it these two figures of gazelles and admired it exceedingly; and she said to me, "Keep this carefully, for it is my sister's work." "What is thy sister's name?" asked I, and she answered, "Nour el Huda." Then I took the piece of linen and went away, joyful, after we had agreed that I should visit her every night in the garden; but in my joy I forgot to repeat to her the verse my cousin had taught me. When I reached home, I found Azizeh lying down; but, as soon as she saw me, she rose, with the tears running from her eyes, and coming up to me, kissed me on the breast and said, "Didst thou repeat the verse to her, as I enjoined thee?" "I forgot it," answered I; "and here is what made me forget it." And I threw the piece of linen down before her. She rose and sat down again, but was unable to contain herself and her eyes ran over with tears, whilst she repeated the following verses:

O thou that seekest severance, forbear; Let not the fair delude thee with their sleight.
Softly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of love-delight.
Then she said, "O my cousin, give me this piece of linen." So I gave it to her, and she took it and unfolding it, saw what was therein. When the time came for my going to my mistress, she said to me, "Go and peace be with thee; and when thou art about to leave her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee and which thou forgottest." Quoth I, "Repeat it to me." So she repeated it. Then I went to the garden and entered the pavilion, where I found the lady awaiting me. When she saw me, she rose and kissed me and made me sit in her lap; and we ate and drank and did our desire as on the previous night. In the morning, I repeated to her my cousin's verse:

Tell me, O lovers, for God's sake I do entreat of you, When love is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?
When she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she answered with the following verse:

Against her passion she must strive and hide her case from view And humble and submissive be, whatever may ensue.
This I committed to memory and returned home, rejoiced at having done my cousin's errand. When I entered the house, I found Azizeh lying on the bed and my mother at her head, weeping over her condition. When the latter saw me, she said to me, "Out on thee for a cousin! How couldst thou leave the daughter of thine uncle in ill case and not ask what ailed her?" Azizeh, seeing me, raised her head and sat up and said, "O Aziz, didst thou repeat the verse to her?" "Yes," replied I; "and she wept and recited, in answer, another verse, which I remember." "Tell it me," said Azizeh. I did so; and she wept and repeated the following verses:

How shall she temper her desire, It doth her fire undo, And still with each recurring day her heart is cleft in two.
Indeed, she strives for patience fair, but findeth nought in her Except a heart too weak to bear the love that makes her rue.
"When thou goest to thy mistress as of wont," added she, "repeat to her these verses also." "I hear and obey," answered I and betook myself, at the wonted time, to the garden, where there passed between my mistress and myself what the tongue fails to describe. As I was about to leave her, I repeated to her my cousin's verses; whereupon the tears streamed from her eyes and she replied:

If she her secret cannot hide and lack of patience due, I see no help for her but death, of all things old and new.
Then I returned home, where I found Azizeh fallen of a swoon and my mother sitting at her head. When she heard my voice, she opened her eyes and said, "O Aziz, didst thou repeat the verses to her?" "Yes," answered I; "and she replied with this verse." And I repeated it; whereupon my cousin swooned again, and when she came to herself, she recited the following verses:

I hearken, I obey, I die; yet bear to one who slew My hopes of union and delight, my greeting and adieu.
Fair fall the happy of their joy, alack! and fair befall The wretched lover of the cup that's set her lips unto."
When it was night, I repaired, as of wont, to the garden, where I found my mistress awaiting me. We sat down and ate and drank, after which we did our need and slept till the morning; and as I was going away, I repeated to her Azizeh's verses. When she heard them, she gave a loud cry and was greatly moved and exclaimed, "Alas! Alas! She who said these words is dead!" Then she wept and said to me, "Out on thee! What kin is she, who spoke thus, to thee?" "She is the daughter of my father's brother," replied I. "Thou liest," rejoined she. "By Allah, were she thy cousin, thou wouldst have loved her even as she loved thee! It is thou who hast killed her, and may God in like manner kill thee! By Allah, hadst thou told me thou hadst a cousin, I would not have admitted thee to my favours!" Quoth I, "Indeed, she is my cousin, and it was she who interpreted to me thy signs and taught me how to come at thee and how I should deal with thee; and but for her, I had never won to thee." "Did she then know of us?" asked she. "Yes," answered I; and she exclaimed, "God give thee sorrow of thy youth, even as thou hast wasted hers!" Then she said to me, "Go and see after her." So I went away, troubled at heart, and when I reached our street, I heard a sound of wailing, and asking about it, was answered, "We found Azizeh dead behind the door." I entered the house, and when my mother saw me, she said to me, "Her death lies at thy door, and may God not acquit thee of her blood! Out on thee for a cousin!" Then came my father, and we laid her out and did her the last offices and buried her. Moreover, we let make recitations of the Koran over her tomb and abode there three days, after which we returned home, grieving for her. When I entered the house, my mother came to me and said, "I would fain know what thou didst to her, to break her heart, for, O my son, I questioned her many times of the cause of her malady, but she would tell me nothing. So, God on thee, tell me what thou didst to her, that she died." Quoth I, "I did nothing." "May God avenge her on thee!" rejoined my mother. "She told me nothing, but kept her secret till she died, of her affection for thee. But when she died, I was with her, and she opened her eyes and said to me, 'O wife of my uncle, may God hold thy son guiltless of my blood and punish him not for that he hath done with me! And now He transporteth me from this transitory house of the world to the other and eternal dwelling-place.' 'O my daughter,' said I, 'God preserve thee and preserve thy youth!' And I questioned her of the cause of her illness; but she made me no answer. Then she smiled and said, 'O wife of my uncle, when my cousin is about to repair to the place whither he goes every day, bid him repeat these two words at his going away: "Faith is fair and perfidy foul." For this is of my tenderness over him, that I am solicitous for him in my lifetime and after my death.' Then she gave me somewhat for thee and made me swear that I would not give it to thee, till I should see thee weeping for her and lamenting her death. The thing is with me, and when I see thee as I have said, I will give it to thee." "Show it me," quoth I: but she would not. Then I gave myself up to my pleasures and thought no more of my cousin's death; for I was light-witted and would fain have been with my beloved day and night. So hardly had the night fallen, when I betook myself to the garden, where I found the lady sitting on coals of fire, for much waiting. As soon as she saw me, she ran to me and throwing her arms about my neck, enquired of my cousin. "She is dead," replied I; "and we have caused litanies and recitations of the Koran to be performed for her; and it is now four nights since she died." When she heard this, she shrieked aloud and wept, saying, "Did I not tell thee that thou hadst slain her? Hadst thou let me know of her before her death, I would have requited her the kindness she did me, in that she served me and brought thee to me; for but for her, we had never come together; and I fear lest some calamity befall thee by reason of thy sin against her." Quoth I, "She acquitted me before she died." And I repeated to her what my mother had told me. "God on thee," rejoined she, "when thou returnest to thy mother, learn what it is she hath for thee." Quoth I, "My mother also said to me, 'Before thy cousin died, she laid a charge upon me, saying, "When thy son is about to go whither of wont, teach him these two words, 'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'" When my mistress heard this, she exclaimed, "The mercy of God the Most High be upon her! Indeed, she hath delivered thee from me, for I had it in mind to do thee a mischief, but now I will not hurt thee nor trouble thee." I wondered at this and said to her, "What then didst thou purpose to do with me, and we lovers?" Quoth she, "Thou art infatuated with me; for thou art young and witless; thy heart is free from guile and thou knowest not our perfidy and malice. Were she yet alive, she would protect thee, for she is the cause of thy preservation and hath delivered thee from destruction. And now I charge thee that thou speak not with neither accost any of our sex, young or old, for thou art young and simple and knowest not the wiles of women and their malice, and she who explained the signs to thee is dead. And indeed I fear for thee, lest thou fall into some calamity and find none to deliver thee from it, now that thy cousin is dead. Alas, the pity of her! Would God I had known her before her death, that I might have visited her and requited her the fair service she did me! The mercy of the Most High be upon her, for she kept her secret and revealed not what she suffered, and but for her, thou hadst never won to me! But there is one thing I desire of thee." "What is it?" said I. "It is," answered she, "that thou bring me to her grave, that I may visit her in the tomb wherein she is and write some verses thereon." "To-morrow," replied I, "if it be the will of God." Then I lay with her that night, and she ceased not, from time to time, to say, "Would thou hadst told me of thy cousin, before her death!" And I said to her, "What is the meaning of the two words she taught me?" But she made me no answer. As soon as it was day, she rose and taking a purse of dinars, said to me, "Come, show me her tomb, that I may visit it and grave some verses thereon and build a dome over it and commend her to the mercy of God and bestow these dinars in alms for her soul." "I hear and obey," replied I and went on before her, whilst she followed me, giving alms by the way and saying to all to whom she gave, "This is an alms for the soul of Azizeh, who kept her counsel, till she drank the cup of death, and discovered not the secret of her passion." And she stinted not thus to give alms and say, "For Azizeh's soul," till the purse was empty and we came to the burial-place. When she saw the tomb, she wept and threw herself upon it; then pulling out a graver of steel and a light mallet, she graved the following verses, in fine characters, upon the stone at the head of the tomb:

I passed by a ruined tomb, in the midst of a garden-way, Upon whose letterless stone seven blood-red anemones lay.
"Who sleeps in this unmarked grave?" I said; and the earth, "Bend low; For a lover lies here and waits for the Resurrection Day."
"God help thee, O victim of love," I cried, "and bring thee to dwell In the highest of all the heavens of Paradise, I pray!
How wretched are lovers all, even in the sepulchre, When their very graves are covered with ruin and decay!
Lo, if I might, I would plant thee a garden round about And with my streaming tears the thirst of its flowers allay!"
Then she returned to the garden, weeping, and I with her, and she said to me, "By Allah, thou shalt never leave me!" "I hear and obey," answered I. Then I devoted myself wholly to her and paid her frequent visits, and she was good and generous to me. As often as I passed the night with her, she would make much of me and ask me of the two words my cousin told my mother, and I would repeat them to her.

I abode thus a whole year, till, what with eating and drinking and dalliance and wearing change of rich raiment, I waxed stout and fat, so that I lost all thought of sorrow and anxiety and forgot my cousin Azizeh. At the end of this time, I went one day to the bath, where I refreshed myself and put on a rich suit of clothes, scented with various perfumes; then, coming out I drank a cup of wine and smelt the fragrance of my new clothes, whereupon my breast dilated, for I knew not the perfidy of fortune nor the calamities of events. When the hour of evening-prayer came, I thought to repair to my mistress; but being heated with wine, I knew not where I went, so that, on the way, my drunkenness turned me into a by-street called En Nekib, where, as I was going along, I met an old woman with a lighted flambeau in one hand and a folded letter in the other; and she was weeping and repeating the following verses:

O welcome, bearer of glad news, thrice welcome to my sight; How sweet and solaceful to me thy tidings of delight!"
Thou that the loved one's greeting bringst unto my longing soul, God's peace, what while the zephyr blows, dwell with thee day and night!
When she saw me, she said to me, "O my son, canst thou read?" And I, of my officiousness, answered, "Yes, O old aunt." "Then, take this letter," rejoined she, "and read it to me." So I took the letter, and unfolding it, read it to her. Now it contained the greetings of an absent man to his friends; and when she heard its purport, she rejoiced and was glad and called down blessings on me, saying, "May God dispel thine anxiety, as thou hast dispelled mine!" Then she took the letter and walked on. Meanwhile, I was seized with a pressing need and squatted down on my heels to make water. When I had finished, I stood up and cleansed myself with pebbles, then shaking down my clothes, was about to go my way, when the old woman came up to me again and bending down to kiss my hand, said, "O my lord, God give thee joy of thy youth! I entreat thee to go with me to yonder door, for I told them what thou readest to me of the letter, and they believe me not: so come with me two steps and read them the letter from behind the door and accept my devout prayers." "What is the history of this letter?" asked I; and she answered, "O my son, it is from my son, who hath been absent from us these ten years. He set out with merchandise and tarried long in foreign parts, till we lost hope of him, supposing him to be dead. Now comes this letter from him, and he has a sister, who weeps for him day and night; so I said to her, 'He is in good health and case.' But she will not believe and says, 'Thou must needs bring me one who will read the letter in my presence, that my heart may be set at rest and my mind eased.' Thou knowest, O my son, that those who love are prone to imagine evil: so do me the favour to go with me and read the letter, standing without the door, whilst I call his sister to listen behind the curtain, so shalt thou dispel our anxiety and fulfil our need. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), 'He who eases an afflicted one of one of the troubles of this world, God will ease him of a hundred troubles;' and according to another tradition, 'Whoso relieves his brother of one of the troubles of this world, God will relieve him of two-and-seventy troubles of the Day of Resurrection.' And I have betaken myself to thee; so do not disappoint me." "I hear and obey," replied I. "Do thou go before me." So she went on and I followed her a little way, till she came to the gate of a large handsome house, whose door was plated with copper. I stood without the door, whilst the old woman cried out in Persian, and before I could think, a damsel ran up, with a nimble and agile step. She had tucked up her trousers to her knees, so that I saw a pair of legs that confounded mind and eye, for they were like columns of alabaster, adorned with anklets of gold, set with jewels. As says the poet, describing her:

O thou who barest thy leg for lovers to look upon, That by the sight of the leg the rest they may infer,
Who passest the cup around midst thy gallants, brisk and free, Nought seduces the folk but the cup (136) and the cup-bearer. (137)
She had seemingly been engaged in work of some kind, for she had tucked the end of her shift within the ribbon of her trousers and thrown the skirt of her robe over her arm. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, so that I could see her white wrists and forearms, on which were two pairs of bracelets, with clasps of great pearls and round her neck was a collar of precious stones. Her ears were adorned with pendants of pearls and on her head she wore a kerchief of brocade, embroidered with jewels of price. When I saw her I was confounded at her beauty, for she was like the shining sun. Then she said, with clear and dulcet speech, never heard I sweeter, "O my mother, is this he who cometh to read the letter?" "It is," replied the old woman; and she put out her hand to me with the letter. Now she was standing about half a rod within the door; so I stretched out my hand and put my head and shoulders within the door, thinking to draw near her and read the letter, when behold, before I knew what she would be at, the old woman thrust her head into my back and pushed me forward, with the letter in my hand, so that before I could think, I found myself in the vestibule. Then she entered, swiftlier than the blinding lightning, and had but to shut the door. When the damsel saw me in the vestibule, she came up to me and straining me to her bosom, threw me to the floor, then knelt upon my breast and kneaded my belly with her hands, till I lost my senses. Then she took me by the hand and led me unable to resist, for the violence of her pressure, through seven vestibules, whilst the old woman went before us with the lighted candle, till we came to a great saloon, with four daises, in which a horseman might play at ball. Here she released me, saying, "Open thine eyes." So I opened them, still giddy for the excess of her pressing and pummelling, and saw that the whole place was built of the finest alabaster and hung and carpeted with stuffs of silk and brocade, with cushions and divans of the same. Therein also were two benches of brass and a couch of red gold set with pearls and jewels, befitting none save kings like unto thee. Then said she, "O Aziz, which wouldst thou rather, life or death?" "Life," answered I; and she said, "If life be liefer to thee, thou must marry me." Quoth I, "It were odious to me to marry the like of thee." "If thou marry me," rejoined she, "thou wilt at least be safe from the daughter of Delileh the crafty." "And who is she?" asked I. She laughed and replied, "How comes it that thou knowest her not, seeing that to-day thou hast companied with her a year and four months, may God the Most High destroy her and afflict her with one worse than herself! By Allah, there lives not a more perfidious than she! How many hath she not slain before thee and what deeds hath she not done! Nor can I understand how thou hast been so long in her company, yet hath she not killed thee nor done thee any hurt." When I heard this, I marvelled exceedingly and said, "Who made thee to know of her, O my lady?" "I know of her," said she, "as the age knows of its calamities: but now I would fain have thee tell me all that has passed between you, that I may know the cause of thy deliverance from her." So I told her all that had happened, including the story of my cousin Azizeh. When she heard of the latter's death, her eyes ran over with tears and she smote hand upon hand and cried out, "God have mercy on her, for she lost her youth in His service, and may He replace her to thee! By Allah, O Aziz, it was she who was the cause of thy preservation from the daughter of Delileh and but for her, thou hadst been lost! Now she is dead and I fear for thee from the other's perfidy and mischief; but my heart is full and I cannot speak." "By Allah," quoth I, "all this happened, even as thou sayest!" And she shook her head and said, "There lives not this day the like of Azizeh." "And when she was dying," continued I, "she bade me repeat to my mistress these two words, 'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'" When she heard this, she exclaimed, "By Allah, O Aziz, it was this that saved thee from dying by her hand: and now my heart is at ease for thee from her for she will never slay thee and thy cousin preserved thee, both in her lifetime and after her death. By Allah, I have desired thee this many a day, but could not get at thee till now and except by a trick, which succeeded with thee for thou art inexperienced and knowest not the malice of women nor the wiles of old women." "No, by Allah!" rejoined I. Then said she to me, "Be of good cheer and take comfort; the dead is in the mercy of God and the living shall be fairly entreated. Thou art a handsome youth, and I do not desire thee but according to the ordinance of God and of His prophet, on whom be peace and salvation! Whatever thou desirest of money and stuff, thou shalt have without stint, and I will not impose any toil on thee, for there is with me always bread baked and water in the pitcher. All I ask of thee is that thou do with me even as the cock does." "And what is it the cock does?" asked I. At this she laughed and clapped her hands and fell over on her back for excess of laughter: then she sat up and said, "O light of my eyes, dost thou not know what the cock's business is?" "No, by Allah!" replied I; and she said, "The cock's business is to eat and drink and tread." I was abashed at her words and said, "Is that the cock's business?" "Yes," answered she; "and all I ask of thee now is to gird thy loins and strengthen thy resolution and swive thy best." Then she clapped her hands and cried out, saying, "O my mother, bring hither those who are with thee." Whereupon in came the old woman, carrying a veil of silk and accompanied by four lawful witnesses, who saluted me and sat down. Then she lighted four candles, whilst the young lady covered herself with the veil and deputed one of the witnesses to execute the contract on her behalf. So they drew up the marriage contract and she acknowledged to have received the whole of her dowry, both precedent and contingent, and to be indebted to me in the sum of ten thousand dirhems. Then he gave the witnesses their fee and they withdrew whence they came; whereupon she put off her clothes and abode in a shift of fine silk, laced with gold, after which she took me by the hand and carried me up to the couch, saying, "There is no blame in what is lawful." She lay down on her back and drawing me on to her breast, heaved a sigh and followed it up with an amorous gesture. Then she pulled up the shift above her breasts, and when I saw her thus, I could not choose but thrust into her, after I had sucked her lips, whilst she moaned and made a show of bashfulness and wept without tears. And indeed the case reminded me of the saying of the poet:

When I drew up her shift and discovered the terrace-roof of her kaze, I found it as strait as my humour or eke my worldly ways.
So I drove it incontinent in, halfway; and she heaved a sigh. "For what dost thou sigh?" quoth I. "For the rest of it, sure," she says.
Then said she, "O my beloved, to it and do thy best, for I am thine handmaid. My life on thee, give it me, all of it, that I may take it in my hand and thrust it into my entrails!" And she ceased not to excite me with sobs and sighs and amorous gestures, in the intervals of kissing and clipping, till we attained the supreme felicity and the term of our desires. We lay together till the morning, when I would have gone out; but she came up to me, laughing, and said, "Thinkest thou that going out of the bath is the same as going in? (138) Verily, I believe thou deemest me to be the like of the daughter of Delileh. Beware of such a thought, for thou art my husband by contract and according to law. If thou be drunken, return to thy right mind and know that this house is opened but one day in every year. Go down and look at the great door." So I went down and found the door locked and nailed up and returned and told her so. "Know, O Aziz," said she, "that we have in this house flour and grain and fruits and pomegranates and sugar and meat and sheep and fowls and so forth, enough to serve us for many years; and henceforth, the door will not be opened till after the lapse of a whole year, nor shalt thou find thyself without till then." Quoth I, "There is no power and no virtue but in God!" "And what can this irk thee," rejoined she, "seeing thou knowest the cock's craft, of which I told thee?" Then she laughed and I laughed too, and I conformed to what she said and abode with her, plying the cock's craft, eating and drinking and cricketing, twelve whole months, during which time she conceived by me and brought me a son. At the end of the year, I heard the door opened and men came in with manchets and flour and sugar. Thereupon, I would have gone out, but my wife said, "Wait till nightfall and go out as thou camest in." So I waited till the hour of evening-prayer, and was about to go forth in fear and trembling, when she stopped me, saying, "By Allah, I will not let thee go, except thou swear to return this night before the closing of the door." I agreed to this, and she made me take a solemn oath by sword and Koran and the oath of divorce to boot that I would return to her. Then I left her and going straight to the garden, found the door open as usual; whereat I was angry and said to myself, "I have been absent a whole year and come here at unawares and find the place open as of wont! I wonder, is the damsel still in her old case? Algates I must enter and see, before I go to my mother, more by token that it is now nightfall." So I entered and making for the pavilion, found the daughter of Delileh sitting there with her head on her knee and her hand to her cheek. Her colour was changed and her eyes sunken; but when she saw me, she exclaimed, "Praised be God for thy safety!" and would have risen, but fell down for joy. I was abashed before her and hung my head; but presently went up to her, and kissing her, said, "How knewest thou that I should come to thee to-night?" "I knew it not," replied she. "By Allah, this whole year past I have not tasted sleep, but have watched every night, expecting thee, from the day thou wentest out from me and I gave thee the new suit of clothes, and thou didst promise me to go to the bath and come back! So I abode awaiting thee that night and a second and a third; but thou camest not till now, and I ever expecting thy coming, for this is the way of lovers. And now I would have thee tell me what has been the cause of thine absence this year long." So I told her all that had happened: and when she knew that I was married, her colour paled. "I have come to thee to-night," added I; "but I must leave thee before day." Quoth she, "Doth it not suffice her to have tricked thee into marrying her and kept thee prisoner with her a whole year, but she must make thee take the oath of divorce to return to her before morning and not allow thee to divert thyself with thy mother or me nor suffer thee to pass one night with either of us, away from her? How, then, must it be with one from whom thou hast been absent a whole year, and I knew thee before she did? But may God have compassion on thy cousin Azizeh, for there befell her what never befell any and she endured what never any endured else and died, oppressed and rejected of thee; yet was it she protected thee against me. Indeed, I thought thou didst love me, so let thee take thine own way; else had I not let thee go safe and sound, when I had it in my power to hold thee in duresse and destroy thee." Then she wept and waxed wroth and shuddered in my face and looked at me with angry eyes. When I saw this, I was terrified at her and trembled in every nerve, for she was like a dreadful ghoul and I like a bean over the fire. Then said she, "Thou art of no use to me, now thou art married and hast a child, nor art thou any longer fit for my company. I care only for bachelors and not for married men; for they profit us nothing. Thou hast sold me for yonder stinking nosegay; but by Allah, I will make the baggage's heart ache for thee, for thou shalt not live either for me or for her!" Then she gave a loud cry, and ere I could think, up came ten damsels and threw me on the ground; whereupon she rose and taking a knife, said, "I will slaughter thee like a he-goat; and that will be less than thy desert, for thy behaviour to me and to thy cousin before me." When I found myself at the mercy of her women, with my cheeks stained with dust, and saw her sharpen the knife, I made sure of death and cried out to her for mercy. But she only redoubled in inhumanity and ordered the maids to bind my hands behind me, which they did, and throwing me on my back, sat down on my stomach and held my head. Then two of them sat on my shins, whilst other two held my hands, and she bade a third pair beat me. So they beat me till I lost my senses and my voice failed. When I revived, I said to myself, "It were easier and better for me to have my throat cut than to be beaten thus!" And I remembered how my cousin used to say to me, "God keep thee from her mischief!" and cried out and wept, till my voice failed and I remained without breath or motion. Then she sharpened the knife and said to the girls, "Uncover him." With this God inspired me to repeat to her the two words my cousin had bequeathed me, and I said, "O my lady, dost thou not know that faith is fair and perfidy foul?" When she heard this, she cried out and said, "God pity thee, Azizeh, and give thee Paradise in exchange for thy wasted youth! Verily, she served thee in her lifetime and after her death, and now she has saved thee alive out of my hands with these two words. Nevertheless, I cannot leave thee thus, but I must e'en set my mark on thee, to spite yonder shameless baggage, who has kept thee from me." Then she called out to the damsels and bade them bind my feet with cords and sit on me. They did her bidding, whilst I lay insensible, and she fetched a pan of copper and setting it on a brazier, poured into it oil of sesame, in which she fried cheese. (139) Then she came up to me and unfastening my trousers, tied a cord round my cullions and giving it to two of her women, bade them pull at it. They did so, and I swooned away and was for excess of pain in a world other than this. Then she came with a steel scalpel and cut off my yard, so that I remained like a woman: after which she seared the wound with the boiling oil and rubbed it with a powder, and I the while unconscious. When I came to myself, the blood had ceased to flow; so she bade the damsels unbind me and gave me a cup of wine to drink. Then said she to me, "Go now to her whom thou hast married and who grudged me a single night, and the mercy of God be on thy cousin Azizeh, who discovered not her secret! Indeed she was the cause of thy preservation, for hadst thou not repeated those words to me, I had surely slain thee. Rise and go to whom thou wilt, for thou hadst nothing of mine, save what I have cut off, and now I have no part in thee, nor have I any further care or occasion for thee: so begone about thy business and bless thy cousin's memory!" With that, she gave me a push with her foot, and I rose, hardly able to walk, and went little by little, till I came to the door of my wife's house I found it open, so I threw myself within it and fell down in a swoon; whereupon my wife came out and lifting me up, carried me into the saloon and found that I was like unto a woman. Then I fell into a deep sleep; but when I awoke, I found myself thrown down at the gate of the garden. I rose, groaning for pain and misery, and made my way to my mother's house, where I found her weeping for me and saying, "O my son, would I knew where thou art!" So I drew near and threw myself upon her, and when she saw me, she knew that I was ill, for my face was at once pale and livid. Then I called to mind my cousin and all the kind offices she had been wont to do me and knew that she had indeed loved me; so I wept for her and my mother wept also. Presently, she said to me, "O my son, thy father is dead." At this my anguish redoubled, and I wept till I lost my senses. When I came to myself, I looked at the place where Azizeh had been used to sit and wept anew, till I all but fainted for excess of grief; and I ceased not to weep and lament thus till midnight, when my mother said to me, "Thy father has been dead these ten days." "I shall never think of any one but my cousin Azizeh," answered I; "and indeed I deserve all that hath befallen me, in that I abandoned her who loved me so dear." "What hath befallen thee?" asked my mother. So I told her all that had happened, and she wept awhile, then rose and set meat and drink before me. I ate a little and drank, after which I repeated my story to her, and she exclaimed, "Praised be God that she did but this to thee and forbore to slay thee!" Then she tended me and medicined me till I regained my health: and when my recovery was complete, she said to me, "O my son, I will now bring out to thee that which thy cousin committed to me in trust for thee; for it is thine. She made me swear not to give it thee, till I should see thee recalling her to mind and weeping over her and thine affections severed from other than her; and now I see these conditions fulfilled in thee." So she arose and opening a chest, took out the piece of linen, with the figures of gazelles worked thereon, which I had given Azizeh; and I opened it and found written therein the following verses:

Who moved thee, fairest one, to use this rigour of disdain And slay, with stress of love, the souls that sigh for thee in vain?
If thou recall me not to mind beyond our parting-day, God knows the thought of thee with me for ever shall remain!
Thou smitest me with cruel words, that yet are sweet to me: Wilt thou one day, though but in dreams, to look upon me deign?
I had not thought the ways of Love were languishment and woe And stress of soul until, alas! to love thee I was fain.
I knew not weariness till I the captive of thine eyes Became and all my soul was bound in passion's fatal chain.
Even my foes have ruth on me and pity my distress: But thou, O heart of steel, wilt ne'er have mercy on my pain.
By God, although I die, I'll ne'er forget thee, O my hope, Nor comfort take, though life itself for love should waste and wane!
When I read these verses, I wept sore and buffeted my face; then I unfolded the scroll, and there fell from it another. I opened it and found these words written therein: "Know, O my cousin, that I acquit thee of my blood and I beseech God to make accord between thee and her whom thou lovest: but if aught befall thee through the daughter of Delileh the crafty, return thou not to her neither resort to any other woman and bear thine affliction patiently, for were not the ordained term of thy life a long one, thou hadst perished long ago: but praised be God, who hath appointed my last day before thine! My peace be upon thee; preserve the cloth with the gazelles figured thereon and let it not leave thee, for it used to keep me company, whenas thou wert absent from me; but I conjure thee, by Allah, if thou chance to fall in with her who wrought these gazelles and it be in thy power to foregather with her, hold aloof from her and do not let her approach thee nor marry her; and if thou happen not on her and find no way to her, look thou company not with any other of her sex. Know that she who wrought these gazelles is the daughter of the King of the Camphor Islands and every year she works a like cloth and despatches it to far countries, that her report and the beauty of her broidery, which none in the world can match, may be bruited abroad, As for thy beloved, the daughter of Delileh, this cloth came to her hand, and she used to ensnare folk with it, showing it to them and saying, 'I have a sister who wrought this.' But she lied in this saying, may God bring her to shame! This, then, is my parting counsel to thee, and I have not charged thee thus, but because I know that, after my death, the world will be straitened on thee and belike, by reason of this, thou wilt leave thy native land and wander in foreign countries, and hearing of her who wrought these figures, be minded to foregather with her. Then wilt thou remember me and it shall not avail thee nor wilt thou know my value till after my death."

When I had read the scroll and understood what was written therein, I fell again to weeping, and my mother wept because I did; and I ceased not to gaze upon it and weep till nightfall. I abode thus a whole year, at the end of which time the merchants, with whom I am in this caravan, prepared to set out from my native town, and my mother counselled me to equip myself and journey with them, so haply I might find forgetfulness and my sorrow cease from me, saying, "Take comfort and put away from thee this mourning and travel for a year or two or three, till the caravan returns, when peradventure thy breast may be dilated and thy heart lightened." She ceased not to persuade me thus, till I provided myself with merchandise and set out with the caravan. But all the time of my journey, my tears have never ceased flowing; and at every station where we halt, I open this piece of linen and look on these gazelles and call to mind my cousin Azizeh and weep for her as thou hast seen, for indeed she loved me very dearly and died, oppressed and rejected of me; I did her nought but ill and she did me nought but good. When these merchants return from their journey, I shall return with them, by which time I shall have been a whole year absent; yet is my sorrow greater than ever and my grief and affliction were but increased by my visit to the Islands of Camphor and the Castle of Crystal. The islands in question are seven in number and are ruled by a king, Shehriman by name, who hath a daughter called Dunya; and I was told that it was she who wrought these gazelles and that this thou seest was of her broidery. When I knew this, yearning redoubled on me and I became a prey to consuming languor and drowned in the sea of melancholy thought; and I wept over myself, for that I was become even as a woman, without manly gear like other men, and that there was no recourse for me. From the day of my departure from the Camphor Islands, I have been tearful-eyed and sorrowful-hearted, and I know not whether it will be given me to return to my native land and die by my mother or not, for I am weary of the world.'

When the young merchant had made an end of telling his story, he wept and groaned and complained and gazed upon the figures wrought on the piece of linen, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks and he repeated the following verses:

'Needs must thy sorrow have an end,' quoth many an one 'and cease And I, Needs must your chiding end and let me be at peace.'
'After awhile,' say they; and I, 'Who will ensure me life, O fools, until the hands of grief their grip of me release?'
And also these:

God knows that, since my severance from thee, full sore I've wept, So sore that needs my eyes must run for very tears in debt!
'Have patience,' quoth my censurers, 'and thou shalt win them yet.' And I, 'O thou that blamest me, whence should I patience get?'
Then said he, 'This, O prince, is my story: hast thou ever heard a stranger one?' Taj el Mulouk marvelled greatly at the young merchant's tale and said to him, 'By Allah, thou hast suffered that which never befell any but thyself, but thou hast life appointed to thee, which thou must needs fulfil; and now I would fain have thee tell me how thou sawest the lady who wrought these gazelles.' 'O my lord,' answered Aziz, 'I got me access to her by a stratagem, and it was this. When I entered her city with the caravan, I went forth and wandered about the gardens [till I came to one walled in and] abounding in trees, whose keeper was a venerable old man of advanced age. I asked him to whom the garden belonged, and he replied, "To the lady Dunya, the king's daughter. We are now beneath her palace," added he; "and when she is minded to divert herself, she opens the private door and walks in the garden and breathes the fragrance of the flowers." So I said to him, "Favour me by allowing me to sit in the garden till she comes; haply I may be fortunate enough to catch a sight of her as she passes." "There can be no harm in that," answered he. So I gave him money and said to him, "Buy us something to eat." He took the money joyfully and opening the door, admitted me into the garden and carried me to a pleasant spot, where he bade me sit down and await his return. Then he brought me fruit and leaving me, returned after awhile with a roasted lamb, of which we ate till we had enough, my heart yearning the while for a sight of the princess. Presently, as we sat, the postern opened and the keeper said to me, "Rise and hide thyself." I did so; and behold a black eunuch put out his head through the wicket and said, "O elder, is there any one with thee?" "No," answered he; and the eunuch said, "Shut the garden gate." So the keeper shut the gate, and the lady Dunya came in by the private door. When I saw her, methought the moon had risen above the horizon and was shining; so I looked at her a long while and longed for her, as a man athirst longs for water. After a time she withdrew and shut the door; whereupon I left the garden and sought my lodging, knowing that I could not win to her and that I was no mate for her, more by token that I was become like unto a woman, having no manly gear, and she was a king's daughter and I but a merchant; so how could I have access to the like of her or to any other woman? Accordingly, when my companions made ready for departure, I too made ready and set out with them, and we journeyed till we arrived at this place, where we met with thee. This then is my story, and peace be on thee!'

When Taj el Mulouk heard the young merchant's account of the princess Dunya and her beauty, fires raged in his bosom and his heart and thought were occupied with love for her; passion and longing were sore upon him and he knew not what to do. Then he mounted his horse and taking Aziz with him, returned to his father's capital, where he assigned the merchant a house and supplied him with all that he needed in the way of meat and drink and clothing. Then he left him and returned to his palace, with the tears running down his cheeks, for report [whiles] stands in stead of sight and very knowledge. He abode thus till his father came in to him and finding him pale-faced, lean of body and tearful eyed, knew that some chagrin had betided him and said to him, 'O my son, acquaint me with thy case and tell me what hath befallen thee, that thy colour is changed and thy body wasted.' So he told him all that had passed and how he had heard from Aziz of the princess Dunya and had fallen in love with her on hearsay, without having set eyes on her. 'O my son,' said the King, 'she is the daughter of a king whose country is far distant from ours: so put away this thought from thee and go into thy mother's palace. There are five hundred damsels like moons, and whichsoever of them pleaseth thee, take her; or else we will seek thee in marriage some one of the kings' daughters, fairer than the lady Dunya.' 'O my father,' answered Taj el Mulouk, 'I desire none other, for she it is who wrought the gazelles that I saw, and I must have her; else I will flee into the deserts and waste places and slay myself for her sake.' Then said his father, 'O my son, have patience with me, till I send to her father and demand her hand in marriage, as I did with thy mother. It may be that God will bring thee to thy desire; and if her father will not consent, I will shake his kingdom under him with an army, whose van shall be upon him, whilst the rear is yet with me.' Then he sent for Aziz and said to him, 'O my son, dost thou know the way to the Camphor Islands?' 'Yes,' answered he; and the King said, 'It is my wish that thou accompany my Vizier thither.' 'I hear and obey, O King of the age,' replied Aziz; whereupon the King summoned his Vizier and said to him, 'Devise me some plan, whereby my son's affair may be rightly managed, and go to the King of the Camphor Islands and demand his daughter in marriage for Tej el Mulouk.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the Vizier. Then Taj el Mulouk returned to his dwelling place and his longing redoubled and impatience and unease were sore upon him; and when the night darkened upon him, he wept and sighed and complained and repeated the following verses:

The shadows darken and my tears flow aye without avail, Whilst in my heart the fires of love rage on and never fail.
Question the nights of me, and they will testify to thee That I in all their endless hours do nought but weep and wait.
Wakeful for love-longing and grief, I lie and watch the stars All night, what while upon my cheeks the tears fall down like hail.
Lowly and helpless I abide, for such as lovers be Have, as it were, nor kith nor kin to help them in their bale.
Then he swooned away and did not recover his senses till the morning, when there came to him one of his father's servants and standing at his head, summoned him to the King's presence. So he went with him, and his father seeing that his pallor had increased, exhorted him to patience and promised him union with her he loved. Then he equipped Aziz and the Vizier for the journey and gave them presents for the princess's father; and they set out and fared on night and day, till they drew near the Camphor Islands, when the Vizier called a halt on the banks of a stream and despatched a messenger to acquaint the King of his arrival. The messenger had not long been gone, when they saw, advancing towards them, the King's chamberlains and amirs, who met them at a parasang's distance from the city and escorted them to the royal presence. They laid before the King the gifts with which they were charged and enjoyed his hospitality three days. On the fourth day the Vizier rose and going in to the King, stood before him and acquainted him with the object of his visit; whereat he was perplexed and knew not what answer to make him, for that his daughter was averse from men and did not desire to marry. So he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and calling one of his eunuchs, said to him, 'Go to thy mistress, the princess Dunya, and repeat to her what thou hast heard and tell her this Vizier's errand.' So the eunuch went out and returning after a while, said to the King, 'O King of the age, when I went to the lady Dunya and told her what I had heard, she was exceeding wroth and made at me with a staff, meaning to break my head; whereupon I fled from her, and she said to me, 'If my father force me to marry, him whom I wed I will kill.' Then said the King to the Vizier and Aziz, 'Salute the King your master and tell him what ye have heard and that my daughter is averse from men and hath no mind to marry.' So they returned, without having accomplished the object of their journey, and fared on till they rejoined the King and told him what had passed; whereupon he commanded the chief to summon the troops for war. But the Vizier said to him, 'O King, do not this, for the King is not at fault, seeing that, when his daughter learnt our business, she sent to say that, if her father forced her to marry, she would kill her husband and herself after him: so the refusal comes from her.' When the King heard this, he feared for Taj el Mulouk and said, 'If I make war on the King of the Camphor Islands and carry off his daughter, she will kill herself and it will profit me nothing.' So he told his son how the case stood, and he said, 'O my father, I cannot live without her; so I will go to her and cast about to get me access to her, though I die in the attempt.' 'How wilt thou go to her?' asked his father; and he answered, 'In the disguise of a merchant.' Then said the King, 'If thou must go and there is no help for it, take with thee Aziz and the Vizier.' He agreed to this, and the King took money from his treasuries and made ready for him merchandise, to the value of a hundred thousand dinars; and when the night came Taj el Mulouk went to Aziz's lodging and passed the night there, heart-smitten and taking no delight in food nor sleep; for melancholy was heavy upon him and he was agitated with longing for his beloved. So he besought the Creator to unite him with her and wept and groaned and complained, repeating the following verses:

Shall union after estrangement betide us, perchance, some day? Shall I ever make moan of my passion to thee, I wonder, and say,
'How oft have I called thee to mind, whilst the night in its trances slept! Thou hast made me waken, whilst all but I in oblivion lay.
Then he wept sore and Aziz wept with him, for that he remembered his cousin; and they both ceased not to do thus till the morning, when Taj el Mulouk rose and went in to his mother in his travelling dress. She asked him of his case, and he told her what was to do; so she gave him fifty thousand dinars and bade him farewell, offering up prayers for his safety and for his union with his beloved. Then he left her and betaking himself to his father, asked his leave to depart. The King granted him leave and presenting him with other fifty thousand dinars, let pitch a tent for him without the city, in which they abode two days, then set out on their journey. And Taj el Mulouk delighted in Aziz's company and said to him, 'O my brother, I can never bear to be parted from thee.' 'Nor I from thee,' replied Aziz; 'and fain would I die at thy feet: but, O my brother, my heart is concerned for my mother.' 'When we have attained our wish,' said the prince, 'all will be well.' As for the Vizier, he exhorted Taj el Mulouk to patience, whilst Aziz entertained him with talk and recited verses to him and diverted him with stories and anecdotes; and so they fared on day and night for two whole months, till the way became tedious to the prince and the fires of passion redoubled on him. So he repeated the following verses:

Long is the road and restlessness and grief redouble aye, Whilst in my breast the fires of love rage ever night and day
O thou, the goal of all my hopes, sole object of my wish, I swear by Him, the Most High God, who moulded man from clay,
For love of thee I bear a load of longing and desire, Such as the mountains of Es Shumm might ne'er withal away!
Indeed, O lady of my world, (140) love slayeth me outright; No breath of life in me is left, my fainting spright to stay
But for the hope of union with thee, that lures me on, My weary body had no strength to furnish forth the way.
When he had finished, he wept and Aziz wept with him, from a lacerated heart, till the Vizier was moved to pity by their weeping and said to the prince, 'O my lord, take courage and be of good cheer; all will yet be well.' 'O Vizier,' said Taj el Mulouk, 'indeed I am weary of the length of the way. Tell me how far we are distant yet from the city.' 'But a little way,' replied Aziz. Then they continued their journey, traversing valleys and plains and hills and stony wastes, till one night, as Taj el Mulouk was asleep, he dreamt that his beloved was with him and that he embraced her and pressed her to his bosom; and he awoke, trembling and delirious with emotion, and repeated the following verses:

My heart is maddened for love and my tears for ever flow, And longing is ever upon me and unrelenting woe.
My plaint is, for tears, as the mourning of women bereft of young, And I moan, when the darkness gathers, as the turtles, sad and low.
Yet, if the breezes flutter from the land where thou dost dwell, Their wafts o'er the earth, sun-weaned, a grateful coolness throw.
Peace be on thee, my beloved, as long as the cushat flies, As long as the turtles warble, as long as the zephyrs blow!
When he had finished, the Vizier came to him and said, 'Rejoice; this is a good sign: so comfort thyself and be of good cheer, for thou shalt surely compass thy desire.' And Aziz also came to him and exhorted him to patience and applied himself to divert him, talking with him and telling him stories. So they pressed on, night and day, other two months, till, one day, at sunrise, there appeared to them some white thing in the distance and Taj el Mulouk said to Aziz, 'What is yonder whiteness?' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'that is the Fortress of Crystal and the city that thou seekest.' At this the prince rejoiced, and they fared forward till they drew near the city, to the exceeding joy of Taj el Mulouk, whose grief and anxiety ceased from him. They entered, in the guise of merchants, the King's son being habited as a merchant of importance, and repaired to a great khan, known as the Merchants' Lodging. Quoth Taj el Mulouk to Aziz, 'Is this the resort of the merchants?' 'Yes,' replied he; 'it is the khan in which I lodged when I was here before.' So they alighted there and making their beasts kneel down, unloaded them and laid up their goods in the warehouses. They abode four days, resting; at the end of which time, the Vizier proposed that they should hire a large house. To this they assented and hired a spacious house, fitted up for festivities, where they took up their abode, and the Vizier and Aziz studied to devise some plan of conduct for Taj el Mulouk, whilst the latter remained in a state of perplexity, knowing not what to do. The Vizier could think of nothing but that he should set up as a merchant in the stuff-market; so he turned to the prince and Aziz and said to them, 'If we tarry thus, we shall not compass our desire nor attain our aim; but I have bethought me of somewhat, in which, if it please God, we shall find our advantage.' 'Do what seemeth good to thee,' replied Taj el Mulouk; 'indeed there is a blessing on the aged, more by token that thou art versed in the conduct of affairs: so tell me what is in thy mind.' 'It is my counsel,' rejoined the Vizier, 'that we hire thee a shop in the stuff-bazaar, where thou mayst sit to sell and buy. Every one, great and small, hath need of silken and other stuffs; so if thou be patient and abide in thy shop, thine affairs will prosper, if it please God, especially as thou art comely of aspect. Moreover, I would have thee make Aziz thy factor and set him within the shop, to hand thee the pieces of stuffs and silks.' When Taj el Mulouk heard this, he said, 'This is a good counsel.' So he took out a handsome suit of merchant's clothes, and putting it on, set out for the bazaar, followed by his servants, to one of whom he had given a thousand dinars, wherewith to fit up the shop. When they came to the stuff-market and the merchants saw Taj el Mulouk's beauty and grace, they were confounded and some said, 'Sure Rizwan hath opened the gates of Paradise and left them unguarded, so that this passing lovely youth hath come out.' And others, 'Belike this is one of the angels.' They asked for the shop of the overseer of the market, and the merchants directed them to it. So they repaired thither and saluted him, and he and those who were with him rose to them and seated them and made much of them. because of the Vizier, whom they saw to be a man of age and reverend aspect; and seeing Aziz and Taj el Mulouk in his company, they said to one another, 'Doubtless this old man is the father of these two youths.' Then said the Vizier, 'Which of you is the overseer of the market?' 'This is he,' answered they; whereupon he came forward and the Vizier, observing him, saw him to be an old man of grave and dignified carriage, with slaves and servants, white and black. He greeted them in the friendliest manner and was lavish in his attentions to them: then he made them sit by his side and said to them, 'Have you any business which we may have the pleasure of transacting?' 'Yes,' answered the Vizier. 'I am an old man, stricken in years, and have with me these two youths, with whom I have travelled through many towns and countries, tarrying a whole year in every city (of importance) on our way, that they might take their pleasure in viewing it and come to know its people. Now I have chosen to make a stay in this your town; so I would fain have thee allot me a handsome shop in the best situation, wherein I may establish them, that they may traffic and learn to buy and sell and give and take, whilst they divert themselves with the sight of the place and acquire the uses of its people.' 'Good,' said the overseer, and looking at the two youths, rejoiced in them and conceived a great affection for them. Now he was a great lover of bewitching glances, preferring the commerce of boys to that of girls and inclining to their love. So he said in himself, 'These be fine purchase; glory to Him who created and fashioned them out of vile water!' (141) and rising, stood before them like a servant, to do them honour. Then he went out and made ready for them a shop in the midst of the market, than which there was no larger nor better in the bazaar, for it was spacious and handsomely decorated and fitted with shelves of ebony and ivory; after which he delivered the keys to the Vizier, who was dressed as an old merchant, saying, 'Take them, O my lord, and may God make it a blessed abiding-place to thy sons!' The Vizier took the keys, and they returned to the khan and caused their servants to transport to the shop all their goods and stuffs and valuables, of which they had great plenty, worth treasures of money. Next morning, the Vizier carried the two young men to the bath, where they washed and put on rich clothes and perfumed themselves to the utmost therein. Now each of them was passing fair to look upon, and the bath enhanced their charms to the utmost, even as says the poet:

Good luck to him who in the bath doth serve him as his squire, Handling a body 'gotten sure 'twixt water and the fire!
With skilful hands he showeth forth the marvels of his craft, In that he gathers very musk (142) from what is like camphire.
When the overseer heard that they had gone to the bath, he sat down to await them, and presently they came up to him, like two gazelles, with red cheeks and black eyes and shining faces, as they were two lustrous moons or two fruit-laden saplings. When he saw them, he rose and said to them, 'May your bath profit you ever!' Whereupon Taj el Mulouk replied, with the sweetest of speech, 'May God be bountiful to thee, O my father! Why didst thou not come with us and bathe in our company?' Then they both bent over his hands and kissing them, walked before him to the shop, to do him honour and show their respect for him, for that he was chief of the merchants and the market, as well as their sense of his kindness in giving them the shop. When he saw their hips quivering, emotion and longing redoubled on him and he could not contain himself, but puffed and snorted and devoured them with his eyes, repeating the following verses:

The heart in them studies the chapter of worship unshared sheer No proofs of more gods to worship than one it readeth here.
No wonder it is they tremble by reason of their weight; How much is there not of motion in that revolving sphere!
And also these:

Two fair ones walking on the earth mine eyes did late espy; Two that I needs must love although they walked upon mine eye.
When they heard this, they begged him to enter the bath with them a second time. He could hardly believe his ears and hastening thither, went in with them. The Vizier had not yet left the bath; so when he heard of the overseer's coming, he came out and meeting him in the outer room of the bath, invited him to enter. He refused, but Taj el Mulouk took him by one hand and Aziz by the other and carried him into a cabinet, the impure old man submitting to them, whilst his emotion increased on him. Then Taj el Mulouk swore that none but he should wash him and Aziz that none but he should pour water on him. He would have refused, albeit this was what he desired; but the Vizier said to him, 'They are thy sons; let them wash thee and bathe thee.' 'God preserve them to thee!' exclaimed the overseer. 'By Allah, thy coming and theirs hath brought blessing and fortune upon our city!' and he repeated the following verses:

Thou cam'st, and the mountains about us grew green And glittered, with flowers for the bridegroom beseen;
Whilst earth and her creatures cried, 'Welcome to thee, Thrice welcome, that comest in glory and sheen!'
They thanked him for this, and Taj el Mulouk proceeded to wash him, whilst Aziz poured water over him and he thought himself in Paradise. When they had made an end of his service, he called down blessings on them and sat talking with the Vizier, gazing the while on the youths. Presently, the servants brought them towels, and they dried themselves and donned their clothes. Then they went out, and the Vizier said to the overseer, 'O my lord, verily the bath is the Paradise of this world.' 'May God vouchsafe it (143) to thee,' replied the overseer, 'and health to thy sons and guard them from the evil eye! Do you remember aught that the poets have said in praise of the bath?' 'Yes,' said Taj el Mulouk and repeated the following verses:

The life of the bath is the pleasantest part of life, Except that the time of our sojourn there is slight.
A heaven, wherein 'tis irksome to us to bide: A hell, into which we enter with delight.
'And I also,' said Aziz, 'remember some verses in praise of the bath.' Quoth the overseer, 'Let us hear them.' So he repeated the following:

I know a house, wherein flowers from the sheer stone blow; Most goodly, when the flames about it rage and glow.
Thou deem'st it hell, and yet, in truth, 'tis Paradise And most that be therein are sun and moons, I trow.
His verses pleased the overseer and he wondered at their grace and eloquence and said, 'By Allah, ye possess both beauty and eloquence! But now listen to me.' And he chanted the following verses:

O pleasaunce of hell-fire and paradise of pain! Bodies and souls therein indeed are born again.
I marvel at a house, whose pleasantness for aye Doth flourish, though the flames beneath it rage amain.
A sojourn of delight to those who visit it It is; the pools on them their tears in torrents rain.
Then he fed his eyes on the gardens of their beauty and repeated the following verses:

I went to the bath-keeper's house and entered his dwelling-place And found no door-keeper there but met me with smiling face.
I sojourned awhile in his heaven (144) and visited eke his hell (145) And thanked both Malik (146) and Rizwan (147) for solace and kindly grace.
They were charmed with these verses, and the overseer invited them to his house; but they declined and resumed to their own lodging, to rest from the great heat of the bath. They took their ease there and ate and drank and passed the night in the greatest comfort and delight, till morning, when they arose from sleep and making their ablutions, prayed the morning-prayer and drank the morning-draught. As soon as the sun had risen and the markets and shops were open, they went out to the bazaar and opened their shop, which their servants had already furnished, after the handsomest fashion, with prayer-rugs and silken carpets and a pair of divans, each worth a hundred dinars. On each divan they had spread a rug, garded with gold and fit for a king, and in the midst of the shop stood a third seat of still greater elegance, even as the case required. Taj el Mulouk sat down on one couch and Aziz on another, whilst the Vizier seated himself on that in the centre, and the servants stood before them. The people of the city heard of them and crowded to them, so that they sold some of their goods and the report of Taj el Mulouk's beauty and grace spread throughout the place. Some days passed thus, and every day the people flocked to them more and more, till the Vizier, after exhorting the prince to keep his secret, commended him to Aziz's care and went home, that he might be alone and cast about for some device that might profit them.

Meanwhile, the two young men sat talking and the prince said to Aziz, 'It may be some one will come from the Princess Dunya.' So he abode in expectation of this days and nights, whilst his heart was troubled and he knew neither sleep nor rest: for desire had gotten the mastery of him and passion and longing were sore upon him, so that he forewent the solace of sleep and abstained from meat and drink; yet ceased he not to be like the full moon. One day, as he sat in the shop, there came up an old woman, followed by two slave-girls. She stopped before Taj el Mulouk and observing his grace and elegance and symmetry, marvelled at his beauty and sweated in her clothes, exclaiming, 'Glory to Him who created thee out of vile water and made thee a ravishment to all who look upon thee!' And she fixed her eyes on him and said, 'This is sure no mortal, but a noble angel.' Then she drew near and saluted him, whereupon he returned her salute and (being prompted thereto by Aziz) rose to his feet to receive her and smiled in her face after which he made her sit down by his side and fanned her, till she was rested and refreshed, when she turned to him and said, 'O my son, O thou that art perfect in graces and charms, art thou of this country?' 'By Allah, O my lady,' answered he in the sweetest and pleasantest of voices, 'I was never in this country in my life till now, nor do I sojourn here save for my diversion.' 'May all honour and prosperity attend thee!' rejoined she. 'What stuffs has thou brought with thee? Show me something handsome; for the fair should bring nothing but what is fair.' When he heard her words, his heart fluttered and he knew not what she meant; but Aziz made a sign to him, and he replied, 'I have everything thou canst desire, and amongst the rest goods that befit none but kings and kings' daughters; so tell me for whom thou seekest the stuff, that I may show thee what will befit her.' This he said, that he might learn the meaning of her words; and she rejoined, 'I want a stuff fit for the Princess Dunya, daughter of King Shehriman.' When the prince heard the name of his beloved, he rejoiced greatly and said to Aziz, 'Give me such a bale.' So Aziz brought it and opened it before Taj el Mulouk, who said to the old woman, 'Choose what will suit her; for these are goods only to be found with me.' So she chose goods worth a thousand dinars and said, 'How much is this?' And ceased not the while to talk with him and rub the inside of her thighs with the palm of her hand. 'Shall I haggle with the like of thee about this paltry price?' answered he. 'Praised be God who hath brought me acquainted with thee!' 'The name of God be upon thee!' exclaimed she. 'I commend thy fair face to the protection of the Lord of the Daybreak! Fair face and pleasant speech! Happy the woman who lies in thy bosom and clasps thy waist in her arms and enjoys thy youth, especially if she be fair and graceful like unto thee!' At this, Taj el Mulouk laughed till he fell backward and said (in himself), 'O Thou who fulfillest desires by means of dissolute old women! They are indeed the accomplishers of desires!' Then said she, 'O my son, what is thy name?' And he answered, 'My name is Taj el Mulouk.' (148) 'This is a name of kings and kings' sons,' rejoined she; 'and thou art clad in a merchant's habit.' Quoth Aziz, 'For the love his parents and family bore him and the value they set on him, they named him thus.' 'Thou sayst sooth,' replied the old woman. 'May God guard you both from the evil eye and the malice of the enemy and the envious, though hearts be broken by your charms!' Then she took the stuff and went away, amazed at the prince's beauty and grace and symmetry, and going in to the Princess Dunya, said to her, 'O my lady, I have brought thee some handsome stuff.' 'Show it me,' said the princess. 'Here it is,' answered the old woman; 'turn it over, O my treasure, and examine it.' So the princess looked at the stuff and was amazed at its beauty and said, 'O my nurse, this is indeed handsome stuff! I have never seen its like in our city.' 'O my lady,' replied the nurse, 'he who sold it me is handsomer still. It would seem as if Rizwan had left the gates of Paradise open and this youth had come out. I would he might sleep this night with thee and lie between thy breasts! He hath come hither with these stuffs for amusement's sake, and he is a ravishment to all who set eyes on him.' The princess laughed at her words and said, 'Allah afflict thee, O pernicious old woman! Thou dotest and there is no sense left in thee. Give me the stuff, that I may look at it anew.' So she gave it her, and she examined it again and seeing that though small, it was of great value, was moved to admiration, for she had never in her life seen its like, and exclaimed, 'By Allah, this is a handsome stuff.' 'O my lady,' said the old woman, 'if thou sawest him who sold it to me, thou wouldst know him for the handsomest of all that be upon the face of the earth.' Quoth the princess, 'Didst thou ask him if he had any need, that we might satisfy it?' The nurse shook her head and answered, 'God keep thy sagacity! Assuredly he has a want, may thy skill not fail thee. What man is free from wants?' 'Go back to him,' rejoined the princess; 'salute him for me, and say to him, "Our land and town are honoured by thy visit, and if thou hast any need, we will fulfil it to thee, on our head and eyes."' So the old woman returned to Taj el Mulouk, and when he saw her, his heart leapt for joy and he rose to his feet and taking her hand, seated her by his side. As soon as she was rested she told him what the princess had said, whereat he rejoiced exceedingly; his breast dilated and gladness entered his heart, and he said in himself, 'Verily, I have gotten my desire.' Then said he to the old woman, 'Belike thou wilt take her a message from me and bring me her answer.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she. So he said to Aziz, 'Bring me inkhorn and paper and a pen of brass.' Aziz brought him what he sought, and he took the pen and wrote the following verses: I send thee, O my hope, a letter, to complain Of all my soul endures for parting and its pain.

Six lines it hath; the first, 'A fire is in my heart;' The next line setteth forth my passion all in vain;
The third, 'My patience fails and eke my life doth waste;' The fourth, 'All love with me for ever shall remain.'
The fifth, 'When shall mine eyes behold thee? And the sixth, 'When shall the day betide of meeting for us twain?
And by way of subscription he wrote these words, 'This letter is from the captive of desire, prisoned in the hold of longing, from which there is no deliverance but in union and intercourse with her whom he loveth, after absence and separation: for he suffereth grievous torment by reason of his severance from his beloved.' Then his tears rushed out and he wrote the following verses:

I write to thee, my love, and the tears run down as I write; For the tears of my eyes, alack I cease never day or night.
Yet do I not despair; mayhap, of God His grace, The day shall dawn for us of union and delight.
Then he folded the letter and sealed it and gave it to the old woman, saying, 'Carry it to the lady Dunya.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she; whereupon he gave her a thousand dinars and said to her, 'O my mother, accept this, as a token of my affection.' She took the letter and the money, calling down blessings on him, and returned to the princess. When the latter saw her, she said to her, 'O my nurse, what is it he asks, that we may fulfil his wish to him?' 'O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'he sends thee this letter by me, and I know not what is in it.' The princess took the letter and reading it, exclaimed, 'Who and what is this merchant that he should dare to write to me thus?' And she buffeted her face, saying, 'What have we done that we should come in converse with shopkeepers? Alas! Alas! By Allah, but that I fear God the Most High, I would put him to death and crucify him before his shop!' 'What is in the letter,' asked the old woman, 'to trouble thy heart and move thine anger thus? Doth it contain a complaint of oppression or demand for the price of the stuff?' 'Out on thee!' answered the princess. 'There is none of this in it, nought but words of love and gallantry. This is all through thee: else how should this devil know me?' 'O my lady,' rejoined the old woman, 'thou sittest in thy high palace and none may win to thee, no, not even the birds of the air. God keep thee and keep thy youth from blame and reproach! Thou art a princess, the daughter of a king, and needest not reck of the barking of dogs. Blame me not that I brought thee this letter, knowing not what was in it; but it is my counsel that thou send him an answer, threatening him with death and forbidding him from this idle talk. Surely he will abstain and return not to the like of this.' 'I fear,' said the princess. 'that, if I write to him, he will conceive hopes of me.' Quoth the old woman, 'When he reads thy threats and menace of punishment, he will desist.' So the princess called for inkhorn and paper and pen of brass and wrote the following verses:

O thou who feignest thee the prey of love and wakefulness And plainst of that thou dost endure for passion and distress
Thinkst thou, deluded one, to win thy wishes of the moon? Did ever any of a moon get union and liesse?
I rede thee put away the thought of this thou seekst from thee, For that therein but peril is for thee and weariness.
If thou to this thy speech return, a grievous punishment Shall surely fall on thee from me and ruin past redress.
By Him, the Almighty God, I swear, who moulded man from clay, Him who gave fire unto the sun and lit the moon no less
If thou offend anew, for sure, upon a cross of tree I'll have thee crucified for all thy wealth and goodliness!
Then she folded the letter and giving it to the old woman, said, 'Carry this to him and bid him desist from this talk.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she, and taking the letter, returned, rejoicing, to her own house, where she passed the night and in the morning betook herself to the shop of Taj el Mulouk, whom she found expecting her. At sight of her, he well-nigh lost his reason for delight, and when she came up to him, he rose to his feet and seated her by his side. Then she brought out the letter and gave it to him, saying, 'Read this. When the princess read thy letter, she was angry; but I coaxed her and jested with her till I made her laugh, and she had pity on thee and has returned thee an answer.' He thanked her and bade Aziz give her a thousand dinars: then he read her letter and fell to weeping sore, so that the old woman's heart was moved to pity for him and his tears and complaints grieved her. So she said to him, 'O my son, what is there in this scroll, that makes thee weep?' 'She threatens me with death and crucifixion,' replied he, 'and forbids me to write to her: but if I write not, my death were better than my life. So take thou my answer to her letter and let her do what she will.' 'By the life of thy youth,' rejoined the old woman, 'needs must I venture my life for thee, that I may bring thee to thy desire and help thee to win that thou hast at heart!' And he said, 'Whatever thou dost, I will requite thee therefor, and do thou determine of it; for thou art versed in affairs and skilled in all fashions of intrigue: difficult matters are easy to thee: and God can do all things.' Then he took a scroll and wrote therein the following verses:

My love with slaughter threatens me, woe's me for my distress! But death is foreordained; to me, indeed, 'twere happiness;
Better death end a lover's woes than that a weary life He live, rejected and forlorn, forbidden from liesse.
Visit a lover, for God's sake, whose every helper fails, And with thy sight thy captive slave and bondman deign to bless!
Have ruth upon me, lady mine. for loving thee; for all, Who love the noble, stand excused for very passion's stress.
Then he sighed heavily and wept, till the old woman wept also and taking the letter, said to him, 'Take heart and be of good cheer, for it shall go hard but I bring thee to thy desire.' Then she rose and leaving him on coals of fire, returned to the princess, whom she found still pale with rage at Taj el Mulouk's first letter. The nurse gave her his second letter, whereupon her anger redoubled and she said, 'Did I not say he would conceive hopes of us?' 'What is this dog,' replied the old woman, 'that he should conceive hopes of thee?' Quoth the princess, 'Go back to him and tell him that, if he write to me again, I will have his head cut off.' 'Write this in a letter,' answered the nurse, 'and I will take it to him, that his fear may be the greater.' So she took a scroll and wrote thereon the following verses:

Harkye thou that letst the lessons of the past unheeded lie, Thou that lookst aloft, yet lackest power to win thy goal on high,
Thinkest thou to reach Es Suha, (149) O deluded one, although Even the moon's too far to come at, shining in the middle sky?
How then dar'st thou hope my favours and aspire to twinned delight And my spear-straight shape and slender in thine arms to girdle sigh?
Leave this purpose, lest mine anger fall on thee some day of wrath, Such as e'en the parting-places shall with white for terror dye.
Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took it and returned to Taj el Mulouk. When he saw her, he rose to his feet and exclaimed, 'May God not bereave me of the blessing of thy coming!' Quoth she, 'Take the answer to thy letter.' He took it and reading it, wept sore and said, 'Would some one would slay me now, for indeed death were easier to me than this my state!' Then he took pen and inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

O my hope, have done with rigour; lay disdain and anger by, Visit one who, drowned in passion, doth for love and longing sigh.
Think not, under thine estrangement, that my life I will endure. Lo, my soul, for very severance from thy sight, is like to die.
Then he folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, saying, 'Grudge it not to me, though I have wearied thee to no purpose.' And he bade Aziz give her other thousand dinars, saying, 'O my mother, needs must this letter result in perfect union or complete separation.' 'O my son,' replied she, 'by Allah, I desire nought but thy weal; and it is my wish that she be thine, for indeed thou art the resplendent moon and she the rising sun. If I do not bring you together, there is no profit in my life: these ninety years have I lived in the practice of wile and intrigue; so how should I fail to unite two lovers, though in defiance of law?' Then she took leave of him, after comforting his heart, and returned to the palace. Now she had hidden the letter in her hair: so she sat down by the princess and rubbing her head, said, 'O my lady, maybe thou wilt comb out my hair: for it is long since I went to the bath.' The princess bared her arms to the elbow and letting down the old woman's hair, began to comb it, when out dropped the letter and Dunya seeing it, asked what it was. Quoth the nurse, 'This paper must have stuck to me, as I sat in the merchant's shop: give it me, that I may return it to him; belike it contains some reckoning of which he hath need.' But the princess opened it, and reading it, cried out, 'This is one of thy tricks, and hadst thou not reared me, I would lay violent hands on thee forthright! Verily God hath afflicted me with this merchant: but all that hath befallen me with him is of thy contrivance. I know not whence this fellow can have come: none but he would venture to affront me thus, and I fear lest this my case get wind, the more that it concerns one who is neither of my rank nor of my peers.' 'None would dare speak of this,' rejoined the old woman, 'for fear of thine anger and awe of thy father; so there can be no harm in sending him an answer.' 'O my nurse,' said the princess, 'verily this fellow is a devil. How can he dare to use such language to me and not dread the Sultan's wrath? Indeed, I am perplexed about his case: if I order him to be put to death, it were unjust; and if I leave him, his presumption will increase.' 'Write him a letter,' rejoined the old woman; 'it may be he will desist.' So she called for pen and ink and paper and wrote the following verses:

Again and again I chide thee, yet folly ever again Lures thee: how long, with my writing, in verse shall I bid thee refrain,
Whilst thou but growest in boldness for all forbidding? But I No grace save to keep thy secret, unto thy prayers may deign.
Conceal thy passion nor ever reveal it; for, an thou speak, I will surely show thee no mercy nor yet my wrath contain.
If to thy foolish daring thou turn thee anew, for sure, The raven of evil omen shall croak for thee death and bane;
And slaughter shall come upon thee ere long, and under the earth To seek for a place of abiding, God wot, thou shalt be fain.
Thy people, O self-deluder, thou'lt leave in mourning for thee; Ay, all their lives they shall sorrow for thee, fordone and slain.
Then she folded the letter and committed it to the old woman, who took it and returning to Taj el Mulouk, gave it to him. When he read it, he knew that the princess was hard-hearted and that he should not win to her; so he complained to the Vizier and besought his advice. Quoth he, 'Nothing will profit thee save that thou write to her and invoke the wrath of God upon her.' And he said to Aziz, 'O my brother, do thou write to her in my name, according to thy knowledge.' So Aziz took a scroll and wrote the following verses:

O Lord, by the Five Elders, deliver me, I pray, And her, for whom I suffer, in like affliction lay!
Thou knowest that I weary in raging flames of love; Whilst she I love is cruel and saith me ever nay.
How long shall I be tender to her, despite my pain? How long shall she ride roughshod o'er my weakness night and day?
In agonies I wander of never-ceasing death And find nor friend nor helper, O Lord, to be my stay.
Full fain would I forget her; but how can I forget, When for desire my patience is wasted all away?
Thou that forbidst my passion the sweets of happy love, Art thou then safe from fortune, that shifts and changes aye?
Art thou not glad and easeful and blest with happy life, Whilst I, for thee, an exile from folk and country stray?
Then he folded the letter and gave it to Taj el Mulouk, who read the verses and was pleased with them. So he handed the letter to the old woman, who took it and carried it to the princess. When she read it, she was greatly enraged and said, 'All that has befallen me comes from this pernicious old woman!' Then she cried out to the damsels and eunuchs, saying, 'Seize this accursed old trickstress and beat her with your slippers!' So they beat her till she swooned away; and when she revived, the princess said to her, 'By Allah, O wicked old woman, did I not fear God the Most High, I would kill thee!' Then she bade them beat her again, and they did so, till she fainted a second time, whereupon the princess ordered them to drag her forth and throw her without the palace. So they dragged her along on her face and threw her down before the gate. When she came to herself, she rose and made the best of her way home, walking and resting by turns. She passed the night in her own house and in the morning, she went to Taj el Mulouk and told him what had passed, at which he was distressed and said, 'O my mother, this that has befallen thee is grievous to us; but all things are according to fate and destiny.' 'Take comfort and be of good cheer,' replied she; 'for I will not give over striving, till I have brought thee and her together and made thee to enjoy the vile baggage who hath tortured me with beating.' Quoth the prince, 'Tell me the reason of her aversion to men.' 'It arose from what she saw in a dream,' answered the old woman. 'And what was this dream?' asked the prince. 'One night,' replied she, 'as she lay asleep, she saw a fowler spread his net upon the ground and scatter grain round it. Then he sat down hard by, and all the birds in the neighbourhood flocked to the net. Amongst the rest she saw a pair of pigeons, male and female; and whilst she was watching the net, the male bird's foot caught in it and he began to struggle, whereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away. But presently his mate came back and hovered over him, then alighted on the net, unobserved by the fowler, and fell to picking and pulling at the mesh in which the male bird's foot was entangled with her beak, till she released him and they flew away together. Then the fowler came up and mended his net and seated himself afar off. After awhile, the birds came back and the female pigeon was caught in the net, whereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away; and the male pigeon flew away with the rest and did not return to his mate. Then came the fowler and took the female pigeon and killed her. So the princess awoke, troubled by her dream, and said, "All males are worthless, like this pigeon: and men in general are wanting in goodness to women."' When the old woman had made an end of her story, the prince said to her, 'O my mother, I desire to have one look at her, though it be my death; so do thou contrive me some means of seeing her.' 'Know then,' answered she, 'that she hath under her palace windows a pleasure-garden, to which she resorts once in every month by the private door. In ten days, the time of her thus going forth will arrive; so when she is about to visit the garden, I will come and tell thee, that thou mayst go thither and meet her. And look thou quit not the garden, for haply, if she sees thy beauty and grace, her heart will be taken with love of thee, and love is the most potent means of union.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then he and Aziz left the shop, and taking the old woman with them, showed her where they lodged. Then said the prince to Aziz, 'I have no further need of the shop, having fulfilled my purpose of it; so I give it to thee with all that is in it; for that thou hast come abroad with me and hast left thy country for my sake.' Aziz accepted his gift and they sat conversing awhile, the prince questioning the young merchant of the strange passages of his life and the latter acquainting him with the particulars thereof. Presently, they went to the Vizier and acquainting him with Taj el Mulouk's purpose, asked him what they should do. 'Let us go to the garden,' answered he. So they donned their richest clothes and went forth, followed by three white slaves, to the garden, which they found thick with trees and abounding in rills. At the gate, they saw the keeper sitting; so they saluted him and he returned their salute. Then the Vizier gave him a hundred dinars, saying, 'Prithee, take this spending-money and fetch us something to eat; for we are strangers and I have with me these two lads, whom I wish to divert.' The gardener took the money and said to them, 'Enter and take your pleasure in the garden, for it is all yours; and sit down till I bring you what you require.' So he went to the market, and the Vizier and his companions entered the garden. In a little while, the gardener returned with a roasted lamb and bread as white as cotton, which he placed before them, and they ate and drank; after which he set on sweetmeats, and they ate of them, then washed their hands and sat talking. Presently the Vizier said to the gardener, 'Tell me about this garden: is it thine or dost thou rent it?' 'It does not belong to me,' replied he, 'but to the Princess Dunya, the King's daughter.' 'What is thy wage?' asked the Vizier, and the gardener answered, 'One dinar every month and no more.' Then the Vizier looked round about the garden and seeing in its midst a pavilion, lofty but old and dilapidated, said to the keeper, 'O elder, I am minded to do here a good work, by which thou shalt remember me.' 'O my lord,' rejoined the other, 'what is that?' 'Take these three hundred dinars,' answered the Vizier. When the keeper heard speak of the dinars, he said, 'O my lord, do what thou wilt.' So the Vizier gave him the money, saying, 'God willing, we will work a good work in this place.' Then they left the garden and returned to their lodging, where they passed the night. Next day, the Vizier sent for a plasterer and a painter and a skilful goldsmith, and furnishing them with all the tools and materials that they required, carried them to the garden, where he bade them plaster the walls of the pavilion and decorate it with various kinds of paintings. Then he sent for gold and ultramarine and said to the painter, 'Paint me on the wall, at the upper end of the saloon, a fowler, with his nets spread and birds lighted round them and a female pigeon fallen into the net and entangled therein by the bill. Let this fill one compartment of the wall, and on the other paint the fowler seizing the pigeon and setting the knife to her throat, whilst the third compartment of the picture must show a great hawk seizing the male pigeon, her mate, and digging his talons into him.' The painter did as the Vizier bade him, and when he and the other workmen had finished, they took their hire and went away. Then the Vizier and his companions took leave of the gardener and returned to their lodging, where they sat down to converse. And Taj el Mulouk said to Aziz, 'O my brother, recite me some verses: haply it may dilate my breast and dispel my sad thoughts and assuage the fire of my heart.' So Aziz chanted the following verses:

All that they fable lovers feel of anguish and despite, I in myself comprise, and so my strength is crushed outright;
And if thou seekst a watering-place, see, from my streaming eyes, Rivers of tears for those who thirst run ever day and night.
Or, if thou fain wouldst look upon the ruin passion's hands Can wreak on lovers, let thy gaze upon my body light.
And his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated these verses also:

Who loves not the necks and the eyes of the fair and pretends, forsooth, To know the delight of the world, God wot, he speaks not the truth
For in love is a secret meaning that none may win to know Save he who has loved indeed and known its wrath and ruth.
May God not lighten my heart of passion for her I love Nor ease my eyelids, for love, of wakefulness in my youth!
Then he sang the following:

Avicenna pretends, in his writings renowned, That the lover's best medicine is song and sweet sound
And dalliance with one of his sex like his love And drinking, with waters and fruits all around.
I took me another, to heal me for thee, And fate was propitious and grace did abound
Yet I knew love a mortal disease, against which Avicenna his remedy idle I found.
Taj el Mulouk was pleased with his verses and wondered at his eloquence and the excellence of his recitation, saying, 'Indeed thou hast done away from me somewhat of my concern.' Then said the Vizier, 'Of a truth there occurred to those of times past what astounds those who hear it.' 'If thou canst recall any fine verse of this kind,' quoth the prince, 'I prithee let us hear it and keep the talk in vogue.' So the Vizier chanted the following verses:

Methought thy favours might be bought and thou to give consent To union won by gifts of gold and grace and blandishment:
And eke, for ignorance, I deemed thy love an easy thing, Thy love in which the noblest souls for languor are forspent;
Until I saw thee choose one out and gratify that one With sweet and subtle favours. Then, to me 'twas evident
Thy graces never might be won by any artifice; So underneath my wing my head I hid incontinent
And in the nest of passion made my heart's abiding-place, Wherein my morning and my night for evermore are pent.
Meanwhile the old woman remained shut up in her house till it befell that the princess was taken with a desire to divert herself in the garden. Now this she had been wont to do only in company with her nurse; so she sent for her and spoke her fair and made her peace with her, saying, 'I wish to go forth to the garden, that I may divert myself with the sight of its trees and fruits and gladden my heart with its flowers.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the old woman; 'but let me first go to my house and change my dress, and I will be with thee anon.' 'Go,' said the princess; 'but be not long absent from me.' So the old woman left her and repairing to Taj el Mulouk, said to him, 'Don thy richest clothes and go to the gardener and salute him and make shift to hide thyself in the garden.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he; and she agreed with him upon a signal to be made by her to him and returned to the princess. As soon as she was gone, the Vizier and Aziz rose and dressed Taj el Mulouk in a right costly suit of kings' raiment, worth five thousand dinars, and girt his middle with a girdle of gold set with jewels. Then he repaired to the garden and found the keeper seated at the gate. As soon as the latter saw him, he sprang to his feet and received him with all respect and consideration and opening the gate, said, 'Enter and take thy pleasure in the garden.' Now the gardener knew not that the princess was to visit the garden that day: but Taj el Mulouk had been there but a little while, when he heard a noise and ere he could think, out came the eunuchs and damsels by the private door. When the gardener saw this, he came up to the prince and said to him, 'O my lord, what is to be done? The Princess Dunya, the King's daughter, is here.' 'Fear not,' replied the prince; 'no harm shall befall thee: for I will conceal myself somewhere about the garden.' So the gardener exhorted him to the utmost prudence and went away. Presently, the princess entered the garden, attended by her damsels and the old woman, who said to herself, 'If these eunuchs abide with us, we shall not attain our object.' So she said to the princess, 'O my lady, I have somewhat to say to thee that will be for thy heart's ease.' 'Say on,' replied the princess. 'O my lady,' said the old woman, 'thou hast no present need of these eunuchs; send them away, for thou wilt not be able to divert thyself at thine ease, whilst they are with us.' 'Thou art right,' rejoined the princess. So she dismissed the eunuchs and began to walk about, whilst Taj el Mulouk fed his eyes on her beauty and grace, without her knowledge, and fainted every time he looked at her, by reason of her surpassing loveliness. The old woman held her in converse and drew her on till they reached the pavilion, which the Vizier had caused to be decorated afresh, when the princess entered and looking round, perceived the picture of the fowler and the birds; whereupon she exclaimed, 'Glory be to God! This is the very presentment of what I saw in my dream.' She continued to gaze at the painting, full of admiration, and presently she said, 'O my nurse, I have been wont to blame and dislike men, by reason of my having seen in my dream the female pigeon abandoned by her mate; but now see how the male pigeon was minded to return and set her free; but the hawk met him and tore him in pieces.' The old woman, however, feigned ignorance and ceased not to hold her in converse, till they drew near the place where the prince lay hidden, whereupon she signed to him to come out and walk under the windows of the pavilion. He did so: and presently the princess, chancing to look out, saw him and noting his beauty and symmetry, said to the old woman, 'O my nurse, whence comes yonder handsome youth?' 'I know nothing of him,' replied the old woman, 'except that I think he must be some great king's son, for he attains the utmost extreme of beauty and grace.' The princess fell passionately in love with him; the spells that bound her were dissolved and her reason was overcome by his beauty and elegance. So she said to the old woman, 'O my nurse this is indeed a handsome youth.' 'Thou art in the right O my lady!' replied the nurse and signed to Taj el Mulouk to go home. So he went away, not daring to cross her though desire flamed in him and he was distraught for love and longing, and taking leave of the gardener, returned to his lodging, where he told the Vizier and Aziz all that had passed. They exhorted him to patience, saying, 'Did not the old woman know that there was an object to be gained by thy departure, she had not signed to thee to return home.'

Meanwhile, desire and passion redoubled upon the princess, and she was overcome with love-longing and said to the old woman, 'I know not how I shall foregather with this youth, but through thee.' 'God be my refuge from Satan the Accursed!' exclaimed the old woman. 'Thou that art averse from men! How comes it that thou art thus afflicted with love of this young man? Though, by Allah, none is worthy of thy youth but he!' 'O my nurse,' said the princess, 'help me to foregather with him, and thou shalt have of me a thousand dinars and a dress worth as much more: but if thou aid me not to come at him, I shall assuredly die.' 'Go to thy palace,' replied the nurse, 'and leave me to devise means for bringing you together. I will risk my life to content you both.' So the princess returned to her palace, and the old woman betook herself to Taj el Mulouk, who rose to receive her and entreated her with respect and honour, making her sit by his side. Then said she, 'The device hath succeeded,' and told him all that had passed between the princess and herself. 'When is our meeting to be?' asked he. 'To-morrow,' replied the old woman. So he gave her a thousand dinars and a dress of equal value, and she took them and returned to the princess, who said to her, as soon as she saw her, 'O my nurse, what news of my beloved?' 'I have discovered where he lives,' replied she, 'and will bring him to thee to-morrow.' At this the princess was glad and gave her a thousand dinars and a dress worth as much more, with which she returned to her own house, where she passed the night. Next morning, she went to Taj el Mulouk and dressing him in women's clothes, said to him, 'Follow me and sway from side to side, as thou goest, and do not hasten in thy walk nor take heed of any that speaks to thee.' Then she went out and walked on, followed by the prince, whom she continued to lesson and hearten by the way, that he might not be afraid, till they came to the palace gate. She entered and the prince after her, and she led him through doors and vestibules, till they had passed six doors. As they approached the seventh door, she said to him, 'Take courage and when I call out to thee and say, "Pass, O damsel!" do not hesitate, but hasten on. When thou art in the vestibule, thou wilt see on thy left a gallery, with doors along it: count five doors and enter the sixth, for therein is thy desire.' 'And whither wilt thou go?' asked the prince. 'Nowhere,' answered she; 'except that I may drop behind thee and the chief eunuch may detain me, whilst I talk with him.' Then they went up to the door, where the chief eunuch was stationed, and he, seeing Taj el Mulouk with her, dressed as a slave-girl, said to the old woman, ' What girl is this with thee?' Quoth she, 'This is a slave-girl of whom the Princess Dunya has heard that she is skilled in different arts, and she hath a mind to buy her.' 'I know no slave-girl,' rejoined the eunuch, 'nor any one else; and none shall enter here without being searched by me, according to the King's orders.' At this the old woman feigned to be angry and said, 'I thought thee a man of sense and good breeding: but, if thou be changed, I will let the princess know of it and how thou hinderest her slave-girl.' Then she cried out to Taj el Mulouk, saying, 'Pass on, O damsel!' So he passed on into the vestibule, whilst the eunuch was silent and said nothing. Then the prince counted five doors and entered the sixth, where he found the Princess Dunya standing awaiting him. As soon as she saw him, she knew him and pressed him to her bosom, and he returned her embrace. Then the old woman came in to them, having made a pretext to dismiss the princess's attendants for fear of discovery, and the princess said to her, 'Do thou keep the door.' So she and Taj el Mulouk abode alone together and passed the night in kissing and embracing and twining leg with leg. When the day drew near, she left him and shutting the door upon him, passed in to another apartment, where she sat down according to her wont, whilst her women came in to her, and she attended to their affairs and conversed with them awhile. Then she said to them, 'Leave me now, for I wish to be alone.' So they withdrew and she betook herself to Taj el Mulouk, and the old woman brought them food, of which they ate and after fell again to amorous dalliance, till the dawn. Then the princess left him, and locked the door as before; and they ceased not to do thus for a whole month.

Meanwhile, the Vizier and Aziz, when they found that the prince did not return from the princess's palace all this while, gave him up for lost and Aziz said to the Vizier, 'O my father, what shall we do?' 'O my son,' answered he, 'this is a difficult matter, and except we return to his father and tell him, he will blame us.' So they made ready at once and setting out, journeyed night and day along the valleys, in the direction of the Green Country, till they reached King Suleiman's capital and presenting themselves before him, acquainted him with what had befallen his son and how they had heard no news of him, since he entered the princess's palace. At this the King was greatly troubled and regret was sore upon him, and he let call a holy war throughout his realm. Then he encamped without the town with his troops and took up his abode in his pavilion, whilst the levies came from all parts of the kingdom; for his subjects loved him by reason of his much justice and beneficence. As soon as his forces were assembled, he took horse, with an army covering the country as far as the eye could reach, and departed in quest of his son Taj el Mulouk. Meanwhile, the latter sojourned with the princess half a year's time, whilst every day they redoubled in mutual affection and distraction and passion and love-longing and desire so pressed upon Taj el Mulouk, that at last he opened his mind to the princess and said to her, 'Know, O beloved of my heart and entrails, that the longer I abide with thee, the more longing and passion and desire increase on me, for that I have not yet fulfilled the whole of my desire.' 'What then wouldst thou have, O light of my eyes and fruit of my entrails?' asked she. 'If thou desire aught beside kissing and embracing and entwining of legs, do what pleases thee; for, by Allah, none hath any part in us.' 'It is not that I desire,' rejoined he; 'but I would fain acquaint thee with my true history. I am no merchant, but a King, the son of a King, and my father is the supreme King Suleiman Shah, who sent his Vizier ambassador to thy father, to demand thy hand for me in marriage, but thou wouldst not consent.' Then he told her his story from first to last, nor is there any profit in repeating it, and added, 'And now I wish to return to my father, that he may send an ambassador to thy father, to demand thy hand for me, so we may be at ease.' When she heard this, she rejoiced greatly, because it fell in with her own wishes, and they passed the night on this understanding. But by the decree of Fate, it befell that sleep overcame them that night above all nights and they slept till the sun had risen. Now at this hour, King Shehriman was sitting on his chair of estate, with his amirs and grandees before him, when the chief of the goldsmiths presented himself before him carrying a large box, which he opened and brought out therefrom a small casket worth a hundred thousand dinars, for that which was therein of rubies and emeralds and other jewels, beyond the competence of any King. When the King saw this, he marveled at its beauty and turning to the chief eunuch (him with whom the old woman had had to do, as before related), said to him, 'O Kafour, take this casket to the Princess Dunya.' The eunuch took the casket and repairing to the princess's apartment, found the door shut and the old woman lying asleep on the threshold; whereupon said he, 'Asleep at this hour?' His voice aroused the old woman, who was terrified and said to him, 'Wait till I fetch the key.' Then she went out and fled for her life; but the eunuch, having his suspicions of her, lifted the door off its hinges and entering, found the princess and Taj el Mulouk lying asleep in each other's arms. At this sight he was confounded and was about to return to the King, when the princess awoke, and seeing him, was terrified and changed colour and said to him, 'O Kafour, veil thou what God hath veiled.' But he replied, 'I cannot conceal aught from the King;' and locking the door on them, returned to Shehriman, who said to him, 'Hast thou given the casket to the princess?' 'Here is the casket,' answered the eunuch. 'Take it, for I cannot conceal aught from thee. Know that I found a handsome young man in the princess's arms, and they asleep in one bed.' The King commanded them to be fetched and said to them, 'What manner of thing is this!' and being violently enraged, seized a dagger and was about to strike Taj el Mulouk with it, when the princess threw herself upon him and said to her father, 'Slay me before him.' The King reviled her and commanded her to be taken back to her chamber: then he turned to Taj el Mulouk and said to him, 'Woe to thee! Whence art thou? Who is thy father and what hath emboldened thee to debauch my daughter?' 'Know, O King,' replied the prince, 'that if thou put me to death, thou wilt repent it, for it will be thy ruin and that of all in thy dominions.' 'How so?' asked the King. 'Know,' answered Taj el Mulouk, 'that I am the son of King Suleiman Shah, and before thou knowest it, he will be upon thee with his horse and foot.' When King Shehriman heard this, he would have forborne to kill Taj el Mulouk and put him in prison, till he should know the truth of his words; but his Vizier said to him, 'O King of the age, it is my counsel that thou make haste to slay this gallows-bird, that dares debauch kings' daughters.' So the King said to the headsman, 'Strike off his head; for he is a traitor.' Accordingly, the headsman took him and binding him fast, raised his hand to the amirs, as if to consult them, a first and a second time, thinking to gain time; but the King said to him, 'How long wilt thou consult the amirs? If thou do so again, I will strike off thine own head.' So the headsman raised his hand, till the hair of his armpit appeared, and was about to smite off Taj el Mulouk's head, when suddenly loud cries arose and the people closed their strops; whereupon the King said to him, 'Wait awhile,' and despatched one to learn the news. Presently, the messenger returned and said, 'I see an army like the stormy sea with its clashing billows; the earth trembles with the tramp of their horses, and I know not the reason of their coming.' When the King heard this, he was confounded and feared lest his realm should be torn from him; so he turned to his Vizier and said, 'Have not any of our troops gone forth to meet this army?' But before he had done speaking, his chamberlains entered with messengers from the approaching host, and amongst them the Vizier who had accompanied Taj el Mulouk. They saluted the King, who rose to receive them and bidding them draw near, enquired the reason of their coming; whereupon the Vizier came forward and said, 'Know that he who hath invaded thy realm is no king like unto the Kings and Sultans of time past.' 'Who is he?' asked Shehriman, and the Vizier replied, 'He is the lord of justice and loyalty, the report of whose magnanimity the caravans have blazed abroad, the Sultan Suleiman Shah, lord of the Green Country and the Two Columns and the mountains of Ispahan, he who loves justice and equity and abhors iniquity and oppression. He saith to thee that his son, the darling of his heart and the fruit of his loins, is with thee and in this thy city; and if he find him in safety, his aim is won and thou shalt have praise and thanks; but if he have disappeared from thy dominions or if aught have befallen him, look thou for ruin and the laying waste of thy realm; for this thy city shall become a desert, in which the raven shall croak. Thus have I done my errand to thee and peace be on thee!' When King Shehriman heard these words, his heart was troubled and he feared for his kingdom: so he cried out for his grandees and viziers and chamberlains and officers; and when they appeared, he said to them, 'Out on you! Go down and search for the young man!' Now the prince was still under the headsman's hands, but he was changed by the fright he had undergone. Presently, the Vizier, chancing to look aside, saw the prince on the carpet of blood and knew him; so he threw himself upon him, as did the other envoys. Then they loosed his bonds and kissed his hands and feet, whereupon he opened his eyes and recognizing his father's Vizier and his friend Aziz, fell down in a swoon, for excess of delight in them. When King Shehriman saw that the coming of the army was indeed on this youth's account, he was confounded and feared greatly; so he went up to Taj el Mulouk and kissing his head, said to him, with streaming eyes, 'O my son, bear me not malice neither blame the sinner for his evil-doing: but have compassion on my gray hairs and do not lay waste my kingdom.' But Taj el Mulouk drew near unto him and kissing his hand, replied, 'Fear not: no harm shall come to thee, for indeed thou art to me as my father; but look that nought befall my beloved, the lady Dunya.' 'O my lord,' replied the King, 'fear not for her; nought but joy shall betide her.' And he went on to excuse himself to him and made his peace with King Suleiman's Vizier, to whom he promised much money, if he would conceal from the King what he had seen. Then he bade his officers carry the prince to the bath and clothe him in one of the best of his own suits and bring him back speedily. So they carried him to the bath and brought him back to the presence-chamber, after having clad him in the suit that the King had set apart for him. When he entered, the King rose to receive him and made all his grandees stand in attendance on him. Then he sat down to converse with Aziz and the Vizier and acquainted them with what had befallen him; after which they told him how they had returned to his father and given him to know of his son's perilous plight and added, 'And indeed our coming hath brought thee relief and us gladness.' Quoth he, 'Good fortune hath attended your every action, first and last.'

Meanwhile, King Shehriman went in to his daughter, the Princess Dunya, and found her weeping and lamenting for Taj el Mulouk. Moreover, she had taken a sword and fixed the hilt in the earth, with the point to her heart between her breasts; and she bent over it, saying, 'Needs must I kill myself and not live after my beloved.' When her father entered and saw her in this case, he cried out, 'O princess of kings' daughters, hold thy hand and have compassion on thy father and the people of thy realm!' Then he came up to her and said, 'God forbid that an ill thing should befall thy father for thy sake!' And he told her that her lover was the son of King Suleiman Shah and sought her to wife and that the marriage waited only for her consent; whereat she smiled and said, 'Did I not tell thee that he was a king's son? By Allah, I must let him crucify thee on a piece of wood worth two dirhems!' 'O my daughter,' answered the King, 'have mercy on me, so may God have mercy on thee!' 'Harkye,' rejoined she, 'make haste and bring him to me without delay.' The King replied, 'On my head and eyes be it,' and returning in haste to Taj el Mulouk, repeated her words in his ear. So he arose and accompanied the King to the princess, who caught hold of him and embraced him in her father's presence and kissed him, saying, 'Thou hast made me a weary woman!' Then she turned to her father and said to him, 'Sawst thou ever any do hurt to the like of this fair creature, more by token that he is a king, the son of a king, and of the free-bon, guarded against abominations?' Therewith Shehriman went out and shutting the door on them with his own hand, returned to the Vizier and the other envoys and bade them report to their King that his son was in health and gladness and enjoying all delight of life with his beloved. So they returned to King Suleiman and acquainted him with this, whereat he rejoiced and exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath brought my son to his desire!'

Meanwhile, King Shehriman despatched largesse of money and victual to King Suleiman's troops, and choosing out a hundred coursers and a hundred dromedaries and a hundred white slaves and a hundred concubines and a hundred black slaves and a hundred female slaves, sent them all to the King as a present. Then he took horse, with his grandees and chief officers, and rode out of the city in the direction of King Suleiman's camp. As soon as the latter knew of his approach, he rose and advancing some paces to meet him, took him in his arms and made him sit down beside himself on the royal couch, where they conversed awhile frankly and cheerfully. Then food was set before them, followed by sweetmeats and fruits, and they ate till they were satisfied. Presently, they were joined by Taj el Mulouk, richly dressed and adorned, and when his father saw him, he rose and embraced him and kissed him. Then the two kings seated him between them, whilst all who were present rose to do him honour; and they sat conversing awhile, after which quoth King Suleiman to King Shehriman, 'I wish to have the contract between my son and thy daughter drawn up in the presence of witnesses, that the marriage may be made public, as of wont.' 'I hear and obey,' answered King Shehriman and summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, who came and drew up the marriage contract between the prince and princess. Then they gave largesse of money and sweetmeats and burnt perfumes and sprinkled essences. And indeed it was a day of joy and festivity, and the grandees and soldiers rejoiced therein. Then King Shehriman proceeded to equip his daughter; and Taj el Mulouk said to his father, 'Of a truth, this young man Aziz is a man of great worth and generosity and hath done me right noble service, having wearied for me and travelled with me till he brought me to my desire. Indeed, he ceased never to have patience with me and exhort me to patience, till I accomplished my intent; and he has now companied with us two whole years, cut off from his native land. So now I purpose to equip him with merchandise, that he may depart with a light heart; for his country is near at hand.' 'It is well seen,' replied his father: so they made ready a hundred loads of the richest and most costly stuffs, which Taj el Mulouk presented to Aziz, saying, 'O my brother and my true friend, take these loads and accept them from me, as a gift and token of affection, and go in peace to thine own country.' Aziz accepted the presents and kissing the earth before the prince and his father, bade them farewell. Moreover, Taj el Mulouk mounted and brought him three miles on his homeward way, after which Aziz conjured him to turn back, saying, 'By Allah, O my lord, were it not for my mother, I would never part from thee! But leave me not without news of thee.' 'So be it,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then the prince returned to the city, and Aziz journeyed on, till he came to his native town and repairing to his mother's house, found that she had built him a monument in the midst of the courtyard and used to visit it continually. When he entered, he found her, with her hair dishevelled and spread over the tomb, weeping and repeating the following verses:

Indeed, I'm very patient 'gainst all that can betide; Yet do I lack of patience thine absence to abide.
Who is there can have patience after his friend and who Bows not the head to parting, that comes with rapid stride?
Then sobs burst up out of her breast, and she repeated these verses also:

What ails me? I pass by the graveyard, saluting the tomb of my son, And yet no greeting he gives me and answer comes there none.
"How shall I give thee an answer, who lie in the grip of the grave, The hostage of earth and corruption," replies the beloved one.
"The dust hath eaten my beauties and I have forgotten thee, Shut in from kindred and lovers and stars and moon and sun."
Then Aziz came in to her, and when she saw him, she fell down in a swoon for joy. He sprinkled water on her, till she revived and rising, took him in her arms and strained him to her bosom, whilst he in like manner embraced her. Then they exchanged greetings, and she asked the reason of his long absence, whereupon he told her all that had befallen him from first to last and how Taj el Mulouk had given him a hundred loads of wealth and stuffs. At this she rejoiced, and Aziz abode with his mother in his native town, weeping for what had befallen him with the daughter of Delileh the Crafty, even her who had gelded him.

Meanwhile, Taj el Mulouk went in to his beloved, the Princess Dunya, and did away her maidenhead. Then King Shehriman proceeded to equip his daughter for her journey with her husband and father-in-law and let bring them victual and gifts and rarities. So they loaded their beasts and set forth, whilst Shehriman brought them three days' journey on their way, till King Suleiman begged him to return. So he took leave of them and turned back, and Taj el Mulouk and his wife and father journeyed on, night and day, with their troops, till they drew near the capital of the Green Country. As soon as the news of their coming became known, the folk decorated the city; so in they entered, and the King sitting down on his chair of estate, with his son by his side, gave alms and largesse and loosed those who were in bonds. Then he held a second bridal for his son, and the sound of the singing-women and players upon instruments of music ceased not for a whole month, during which time the tire-women stinted not to adorn the bride and display her in various dresses; and she tired not of the unveiling nor did they weary of gazing on her. Then Taj el Mulouk, after having companied awhile with his father and mother, took up his sojourn with his wife, and they abode in all delight of life and fair fortune, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights."

When the Vizier had made an end of the story of Taj el Mulouk and the Princess Dunya, Zoulmekan said to him, "Of a truth, it is the like of thee who lighten the mourning heart and are worthy to be the companions of kings and to guide their policy in the right way."

Meanwhile, they ceased not from the leaguer of Constantinople; and there they lay four whole years, till they yearned after their native land and the troops murmured, being weary of siege and vigil and stress of war by night and by day. Then King Zoulmekan summoned Rustem and Behram and Terkash and bespoke them thus, "Know that all these years we have lain here and have not come by our intent and have gotten us but increase of trouble and concern; for indeed we came, thinking to take our wreak for King Omar ben Ennuman and behold, my brother Sherkan was slain; so is our sorrow grown two sorrows and our affliction two afflictions. All this came of the old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, for it was she who slew the Sultan in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the Princess Sufiyeh; nor did this suffice her, but she must put another cheat on us and slay my brother Sherkan: and indeed I have bound myself and sworn by the most solemn oaths to avenge them of her. What say ye? Ponder my words and answer me." With this, they bowed their heads and answered, "It is for the Vizier Dendan to decide." So the Vizier came forward and said, "O King of the age, it avails us nothing to tarry here, and it is my counsel that we strike camp and return to our own country, there to abide awhile and after return and fall upon the worshippers of idols." "This is a good counsel," replied the King; "for indeed the folk weary for a sight of their families, and I also am troubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother's daughter Kuzia Fekan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how it is with her." So he bade the herald call the retreat after three days, whereupon the troops rejoiced and blessed the Vizier Dendan. Then they fell to preparing for the homeward march and on the fourth day, they beat the drums and unfurled the banners and the army set forth, the Vizier in the van and the King riding in the mid-battle, with the Great Chamberlain by his side, and journeyed night and day, till they reached Baghdad. The folk rejoiced in their return, and care and hardship ceased from them, whilst those who had stayed at home came forth to meet those who had been so long absent and each amir betook him to his own house. As for Zoulmekan, he went up to the palace and went into his son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven and used to go down [into the tilting-ground] and ride. As soon as the King was rested of his journey, he entered the bath with his son, and returning, seated himself on his chair of estate, whilst the Vizier Dendan took up his station before him and the amirs and grandees of the realm entered and stood in attendance upon him. Then he called for his comrade the stoker, who had befriended him in his strangerhood; and when he came, the King rose to do him honour and made him sit by his own side. Now he had acquainted the Vizier with all the kindness and fair service that the stoker had done him; so the Vizier and all the amirs made much of him. The stoker had waxed fat and burly with rest and good living, so that his neck was like an elephant's neck and his face like a porpoise's belly. Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he had never stirred from his place; so at the first he knew not the King by his aspect. But Zoulmekan came up to him smilingly and saluted him after the friendliest fashion, saying, "How hast thou made haste to forget me!" So the stoker roused himself and looking steadfastly on Zoulmekan knew him: whereupon he sprang to his feet and exclaimed. "O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?" Zoulmekan laughed at him and the Vizier, coming up to him, expounded the whole story to him and said, "He was thy brother and thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs must thou get great good of him. So I counsel thee, if he say to thee, 'Ask a boon of me,' ask not but for some great thing; for thou art very dear to him." Quoth the stoker, "I fear lest, if I ask of him aught, he may not choose to grant it or may not be able thereto." "Have no care, answered the Vizier; "whatsoever thou asketh, he will give thee." "By Allah," rejoined the stoker, "I must ask of him a thing that is in my thought! Every night I dream of it and implore God to vouchsafe it to me." "Take heart," said the Vizier. "By Allah, if thou askedst of him the government of Damascus, in the room of his brother he would surely give it thee." With this, the stoker rose to his feet and Zoulmekan signed to him to sit; but he refused, saying, "God forfend! The days are gone by of my sitting in thy presence." "Not so," answered the Sultan; "they endure even now. Thou wert the cause that I am now alive, and by Allah, what thing soever thou askest of me, I will give it to thee! But ask thou first of God, and then of me." "O my lord," said the stoker, "I fear...," Fear not," quoth the Sultan. "I fear," continued he, "to ask aught and that thou shouldst refuse it to me." At this the King laughed and replied, "If thou askedst of me the half of my kingdom, I would share it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking." "I fear...," repeated the stoker. "Do not fear," said the King. "I fear," went on the stoker, "lest I ask a thing and thou be not able thereto." With this, the Sultan waxed wroth and said, "Ask what thou wilt." Then said the stoker, "I ask, first of God and then of thee, that thou write me a patent of mastership over all the stokers in Jerusalem." The Sultan and all who were present laughed and Zoulmekan said, "Ask somewhat other than this." "O my lord," replied the stoker, "said I not I feared thou wouldst not choose to grant me what I should ask or be not able thereto?" Therewith the Vizier nudged him once and twice and thrice, and every time he began, "I ask of thee..." Quoth the Sultan, "Ask and be speedy." So he said, "I beseech thee to make me captain of the scavengers in Jerusalem or Damascus." Then all those who were present laughed, till they fell backward, and the Vizier beat him. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, "What art thou that thou shouldst beat me? It is no fault of mine: didst thou not bid me ask some considerable thing? Let me go to my own country." With this, the Sultan knew that he was jesting and took patience with him awhile; then turned to him and said, "O my brother, ask of me some considerable thing, befitting our dignity." So the stoker said, "O King of the age, I ask first of God and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of Damascus in the room of thy brother." "God granteth thee this," answered the King. So the stoker kissed the ground before him, and he bade set him a chair in his rank and put on him a viceroy's habit. Then he wrote him a patent of investiture and sealing it with his own seal, said to the Vizier, "None shall go with him but thou; and when thou returnest, do thou bring with thee my brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan." "I hear and obey," answered the Vizier and taking the stoker, went down with him and made ready for the journey. Then the King appointed the stoker servants and officers and gave him a new litter and princely equipage and said to the amirs, "Whoso loves me, let him honour this man and give him a handsome present." So they brought him every one his gift, according to his competence; and the King named him Ziblcan, (150) and conferred on him the surname of honour of El Mujahid. (151) As soon as the new Viceroy's gear was ready, he went up with the Vizier to the King, to take leave of him and ask his permission to depart. The King rose to him and embracing him, exhorted him to do justice among his subjects and deal fairly with them and bade him make ready for war against the infidels after two years Then they took leave of each other and King Ziblcan, surnamed El Mujahid, set out on his journey, after the amirs had brought him slaves and servants, even to five thousand in number, who rode after him. The Grand Chamberlain also took horse, as did Behram, captain of the Medes, and Rustem, captain of the Persians, and Terkash, captain of the Arabs, and rode with him three days' journey, to do him honour and take their leaves of him. Then they returned to Baghdad and the Sultan Ziblcan and the Vizier Dendan fared on, with their company, till they drew near Damascus. Now news was come upon the wings of birds, to the notables of Damascus that King Zoulmekan had made Sultan over Damascus a Sultan called Ziblcan el Mujahid; so when he reached the city, he found it decorated in his honour, and all the folk came out to gaze on him. He entered Damascus in great state and went up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of estate, whilst the Vizier Dendan stood in attendance on him, to acquaint him with the ranks and stations of the amirs. Then the grandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down blessings on him. He received them graciously and bestowed on them gifts and dresses of honour; after which he opened the treasuries and gave largesse to the troops, great and small. Then he governed and did justice and proceeded to equip the lady Kuzia Fekan, daughter of King Sherkan, appointing her a litter of silken stuff. Moreover, he furnished the Vizier Dendan also for the return journey and would have made him a gift of money, but he refused, saying, "Thou art near the time of the tryst with the King, and haply thou wilt have need of money, or we may send to seek of thee funds for the Holy War or what not." When the Vizier was ready, the Viceroy brought Kuzia Fekan to him and made her mount the litter, giving her ten damsels to do her service. Moreover, he mounted, to bid the Vizier farewell, and they set forward, whilst Ziblcan returned to Damascus and busied himself in ordering the affairs of his government and making ready his harness of war, against such time as King Zoulmekan should send to him there for. Meanwhile the Vizier and his company fared forward by easy stages, till they came, after a month's travel, to Ruhbeh (152) and thence pushed on, till they drew near Baghdad. Then he despatched messengers, to inform King Zoulmekan of his arrival; and he, when he heard this, took horse and rode out to meet him. The Vizier would have dismounted to receive him, but the King conjured him not to do so and spurred his steed, till he came up to him. Then he questioned him of Ziblcan, whereto the Vizier replied that he was well and that he had brought with him his brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan. At this the King rejoiced and said to Dendan, "Go thou and rest thee of the fatigue of the journey, and after three days come to me again." "With all my heart," replied the Vizier and betook himself to his own house, whilst the King went up to his palace and went in to his brother's daughter, who was then a girl of eight years old. When he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed sore for her father. Then he let make for her clothes and gave her splendid jewels and ornaments and bade lodge her with his son Kanmakan in one place. So they both grew up, the brightest and bravest of the people of their time; but Kuzia Fekan grew up possessed of good sense and understanding and knowledge of the issues of events, whilst Kanmakan grew up generous and freehanded, taking no thought to the issue of aught. Now Kuzia Fekan used to ride a-horseback and fare forth with her cousin into the open plain and range at large with him in the desert; and they both learnt to smite with swords and thrust with spears. So they grew up, till each of them attained the age of twelve, when King Zoulmekan, having completed his preparations and provisions for the Holy War, summoned the Vizier Dendan and said to him, "Know that I am minded to do a thing, which I will discover to thee, and do thou with speed return me an answer thereon." "What is that, O King of the age?" asked the Vizier. "I am resolved," said the King, "to make my son Kanmakan king and rejoice in him in my lifetime and do battle before him, till death overcome me. What deemest thou of this?" The Vizier kissed the earth before the King and replied, "O King and Sultan, lord of the age and the time, this that is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is now no time to carry it out, for two reasons: the first, that thy son Kanmakan is yet of tender age; and the second, that it is of wont that he who makes his son king in his lifetime, lives but a little thereafterward." "Know, O Vizier," rejoined the King, "that we will make the Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for he is art and part of us and he married my sister, so that he is to me as a brother." Quoth the Vizier, "Do what seemeth good to thee: we will obey thine orders." Then the King sent for the Grand Chamberlain and the grandees of the kingdom and said to them, "Ye know that this my son Kanmakan is the first cavalier of the age and that he hath no peer in jousting and martial exercises; and now I appoint him to be Sultan over you in my stead and I make his uncle, the Grand Chamberlain, guardian over him." "O King of the age," replied the Chamberlain, "I am but an offset of thy bounty." And the King said, "O Chamberlain, verily this my son Kanmakan and my niece Kuzia Fekan are brothers' children; so I marry them one to the other and I call those present to witness thereof." Then he made over to his son such treasures as beggar description and going in to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman told her what he had done, whereat she rejoiced greatly and said, "Verily, they are both my children. May God preserve thee to them many a year!" "O my sister," replied he, "I have accomplished that which was in my heart of the world and I have no fear for my son: yet it were well that thou shouldst have a watchful eye to him and to his mother." And he went on to commend to the Chamberlain and Nuzhet ez Zeman his son and niece and wife. Thus did he nights and days till he [fell sick and] deeming surely that he should drink the cup of death, took to his bed and abode thus a whole year, whilst the Chamberlain took upon himself the ordering of the people and the realm. At the end of this time, the King summoned his son Kanmakan and the Vizier Dendan and said to the former, "O my son, this Vizier shall be thy father, when I am dead; for know that I am about to leave this transitory house of life for that which is eternal. And indeed I have fulfilled my lust of this world; yet there remaineth in my heart one regret, which may God dispel at thy hands!" "What regret is that, O my father?" asked his son. "O my son," answered Zoulmekan, "it is that I die without having avenged thy grandfather Omar ben Ennuman and thine uncle Sherkan on an old woman whom they call Dhat ed Dewahi; but, so God grant thee aid, do not thou fail to take thy wreak on her and to wipe out the disgrace we have suffered at the hands of the infidels. Beware of the old woman's craft and do as the Vizier shall counsel thee; for that he from of old time hath been the pillar of our realm." And his son assented to what he said. Then the King's eyes ran over with tears and his sickness redoubled on him, nor did it leave to press sore upon him four whole years, during which time his brother-in-law the Chamberlain held sway over the country, judging and commanding and forbidding, to the contentment of the people and the nobles, and all the land prayed for him (153) what while Zoulmekan was occupied with his malady. As for Kanmakan, he had no thought but of riding and tilting with spears and shooting with arrows, and thus also did his cousin Kuzia Fekan; for they were wont to go forth at the first of the day and return at nightfall, when she would go in to her mother and he to his, to find her sitting weeping by his father's bed. Then he would tend his father till daybreak, when he would go forth again with his cousin, according to their wont. Now Zoulmekan's sufferings were long upon him and he wept and recited these verses:

My strength is past away, my tale of days is told And I, alas! am left even as thou dost behold.
In honour's day, the first amongst my folk was I, And in the race for fame the foremost and most bold.
Would that before my death I might but see my son The empery in my stead over the people hold
And rush upon his foes and take on them his wreak, At push of sword and pike, in fury uncontrolled.
Lo, I'm a man fordone, in this world and the next, Except my spright of God be solaced and consoled!
When he had made an end of repeating these verses he laid his head on his pillow and his eyes closed and he slept. In his sleep he saw one who said to him, "Rejoice for thy son shall fill the lands with justice and have the mastery over them and men shall obey him." Then he awoke gladdened by this happy omen that he had seen, and after a few days, death smote him, whereat great grief fell on the people of Baghdad, and gentle and simple mourned for him. But time passed over him, as if he had never been, and Kanmakan's estate was changed; for the people of Baghdad set him aside and put him and his family in a place apart. When his mother saw this, she fell into the sorriest of plights and said, "Needs must I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I hope for the favour of the Subtle, the All-Wise One!" Then she betook herself to the house of the Chamberlain, who was now become Sultan, and found him sitting upon his couch. So she went in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman and wept sore and said, "Verily, the dead have no friends. May God never bring you to need and may you cease not to rule justly over rich and poor many days and years! Thine ears have heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours aforetime of kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and goodliness of life and condition; and now fortune hath turned upon us, and fate and the time have played us false and wrought hostilely with us; wherefore I come to thee, craving thy bounties, I that have been used to confer favours; for when a man dies, women and girls are brought low after him." And she repeated the following verses:

Let it suffice thee that Death is the worker of wonders and know That the lives which are gone from our sight will never return to us mo'.
The days of the life of mankind are nothing but journeys, I wot, whose watering-places for aye are mixed with misfortune and woe.
Yet nothing afflicteth my heart like the loss of the good and the great, Whom the stresses of adverse events have compassed about and laid low.
When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she remembered her brother Zoulmekan and his son Kanmakan and making her draw near to her, said to her, "By Allah, I am now rich and thou poor, and by Allah, we did not leave to seek thee out, but that we feared to wound thy heart, lest thou shouldst deem our gifts to thee an alms. Of a truth, all the good that we now enjoy is from thee and thy husband: so our house is thy house and our place thy place, and all that we have of wealth and goods is thine." Then she clad her richly and appointed her a lodging in the palace, adjoining her own; and she and her son abode therein in all delight of life. Him also did Nuzhet ez Zeman clothe in kings' raiment and gave them handmaids to do them service. After a little, she told her husband of her brother's widow, whereat his eyes filled with tears and he said, "Wouldst thou see the world after thee, look upon the world after another than thyself. Entertain her honourably and enrich her poverty."

Meanwhile, Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan grew up and flourished, like unto two fruit-laden saplings or two shining moons, till they reached the age of fifteen. As for the girl, she was indeed the fairest of the cloistered maids, with lovely face and smooth cheeks, slender waist, heavy hips and arrowy shape, lips sweeter than old wine and spittle as it were the fountain Selsebil of Paradise, even as saith the poet, describing her:

From her mouth's honeyed dew, meseems, the first-pressed wine is drawn And on her sweetest lips the grapes, from which it's crushed, are grown;
And when thou makest her to bend, its vines sway in her shape. Blessed be He who fashioned her and may not be made known!
For indeed God had united in her every attribute of beauty: her shape put to shame the willow-wand and the rose sought grace before her cheeks; the water of her mouth made mock of clear wine, and she gladdened heart and eyes, even as saith of her the poet:

Goodly and glorious she is, and perfect in every charm. Her eyelashes put to shame kohl and the users of kohl.
Even as a sword in the hand of Ali, the Vicar of God, So is the glance of her eye to a lover's heart and soul.
As for Kanmakan, he was no less accomplished in grace and excelling in perfection; there was none could match with him in beauty and qualities, and valour shone from between his liquid black eyes, testifying for him and not against him. The hardest hearts inclined to him; and when the tender down of his lips and cheeks began to sprout, many were the poems made in his honour: as for example quoth one:

Unshown was my excuse, till on his cheek the hair Grew and the darkness crept, bewildered, here and there.
A fawn, when eyes of men are fixed upon his charms, His glances straight on them a trenchant poniard bare.
And another:

His lovers' souls have woven upon his cheek, I ween, A net the blood has painted with all its ruddy sheen.
Oh, how at them I marvel! They're martyrs; yet they dwell In fire, and for their raiment, they're clad in sendal green. (154)
It chanced, one festival day, that Kuzia Fekan went out, surrounded by her handmaids, to visit certain kindred of the court; and indeed beauty encompassed her; the rose of her cheek vied with the mole thereon, her teeth flashed from her smiling lips, like the petals of the camomile flower, and she was as the resplendent moon. Her cousin Kanmakan began to turn about her and devour her with his eyes. Then he took courage and giving loose to his tongue, repeated the following verses:

When shall the mourning heart be healed of anger and disdain? When, rigour ceasing, shall the lips of union smile again?
Would God I knew if I shall lie, some night, within the arms Of a beloved, in whose heart is somewhat of my pain!
When she heard this, she was angry and putting on a haughty air, said to him, "Hast thou a mind to shame me among the folk, that thou speakest thus of me in thy verse? By Allah, except thou leave this talk, I will assuredly complain of thee to the Grand Chamberlain, Sultan of Baghdad and Khorassan and lord of justice and equity, whereby disgrace and punishment will fall on thee?" To this Kanmakan made no reply, but returned to Baghdad: and Kuzia Fekan also returned home and complained of her cousin to her mother, who said to her, "O my daughter, belike he meant thee no ill, and is he not an orphan? Indeed, he said nought that implied reproach to thee; so look thou tell none of this, lest it come to the Sultan's ears and he cut short his life and blot out his name and make it even as yesterday, whose remembrance hath passed away." How ever, Kanmakan's case was not hidden from the people, and his love for Kuzia Fekan became known in Baghdad, so that the women talked of it. Moreover, his heart became contracted and his patience waned and he knew not what to do. Then longed he to give vent to the anguish he endured, by reason of the pangs of separation; but he feared her anger and her rebuke: so he recited the following verses:

What though I be fearful, anon, of her wrath, Whose humour serene is grown troubled and dour,
I bear it with patience, as he who is sick Endureth a caut'ry in hopes of a cure.
His verses came one day to the knowledge of King Sasan (for so had they named the Grand Chamberlain, on his assumption of the Sultanate), as he sat on his throne, and he was told of the love the prince bore to Kuzia Fekan; whereat he was sore vexed, and going in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, said to her, "Verily, to bring together fire and dry grass is of the greatest of risks; and men may not be trusted with women, so long as eyes cast furtive glances and eyelids quiver. Now thy nephew Kanmakan is come to man's estate and it behoves us to forbid him access to the harem; nor is it less needful that thy daughter be kept from the company of men, for the like of her should be cloistered." "Thou sayest sooth, O wise King," answered she. Next day came Kanmakan, according to his wont, and going in to his aunt, saluted her. She returned his greeting and said to him, "O my son, I have somewhat to say to thee, that I would fain leave unsaid; yet must I tell it thee, in my own despite." "Speak," said he. "Know then," rejoined she, "that thine uncle the Chamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fekan, has heard of thy love for her and the verses thou madest of her and has ordered that she be kept from thee; wherefore, if thou have occasion for aught from us, I will send it to thee from behind the door, and thou shalt not look upon Kuzia Fekan nor return hither from day forth." When he heard this, he withdrew, without speaking a word, and betook himself to his mother, to whom he related what his aunt had said to him. Quoth she, "This all comes of thy much talk. Thou knowest that the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fekan is noised abroad everywhere and how thou eatest their victual and makest love to their daughter." "And who should have her but I?" replied the prince. "She is the daughter of my father's brother and I have the best of rights to her." "These are idle words," rejoined his mother. "Be silent, lest thy talk come to King Sasan's ears and it prove the cause of thy losing her and of thy ruin and increase of affliction. They have not sent us the evening meal to-night and we shall die of want; and were we in any land other than this, we were already dead of the pangs of hunger or the humiliation of begging our bread." When Kanmakan heard his mother's words, his anguish redoubled; his eyes ran over with tears and he sobbed and complained and repeated the following verses:

Give o'er this unrelenting blame, that never lets me be! My heart loves her to whom it's thrall and may not struggle free.
Look not to me for any jot of patience, for I swear By God His house, my patience all is clean divorced from me!
Blamers to prudence me exhort; I heed them not, for I In my avouchment am sincere of love and constancy.
They hinder me by very force from visiting my dear, Though, by the Merciful, nor rogue am I nor debauchee!
Indeed, my bones, whenas they hear the mention of her name, Do quake and tremble even as birds from sparrow-hawks that flee.
O daughter of my uncle, say to him who chides at love, That I, by Allah, am distraught with love-longing for thee.
And he said to his mother, "I can dwell no longer in my aunt's house nor among these people, but will go forth and abide in the corners of the city " So he and his mother left the palace and took up their abode in one of the quarters of the poorer sort: and she used to go from time to time to King Sasan's palace and take thence food for her own and her son's subsistence. One day, Kuzia Fekan took her aside and said to her, "Alas, my aunt, how is it with thy son?" "O my daughter," replied she, "sooth to say, he is tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, being fallen into the snare of thy love." And she repeated to her the verses he had made; whereupon Kuzia Fekan wept and said, "By Allah, I rebuked not him for his words of ill-will or dislike to him, but because I feared the malice of enemies for him. Indeed, my passion for him is double that he feels for me; words fail to set out my yearning for him; and were it not for the extravagances of his tongue and the wanderings of his wit, my father had not cut off his favours from him nor decreed unto him exclusion and prohibition. However, man's fortune is nought but change, and patience in every case is most becoming; peradventure He who ordained our severance will vouchsafe us reunion!" And she repeated the following:

O son of mine uncle, the like of thine anguish I suffer, the like of thy passion I feel;
Yet hide I from men what I suffer for longing, And shouldst thou not also thy passion conceal?
When his mother heard this, she thanked her and blessed her: then she left her and returning to her son, told him what his mistress had said; whereupon his desire for her increased. But he took heart, being eased of his despair, and the turmoil of his spirits was quelled. And he said, "By Allah, I desire none but her!" And he repeated the following verses:

Give over thy chiding; I'll hearken no whit to the flouts of my foes: Indeed I've discovered my secret that nought should have made me disclose;
And she, whose enjoyment I hoped for, alack! is far distant from me; Mine eyes watch the hours of the dark, whilst she passes the night in repose.
So the days and nights went by, whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon coals of fire, till he reached the age of seventeen: and indeed his beauty was now come to perfection and his wit had ripened. One night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said, "Why should I keep silence, till I consume away, and see not my love? My only fault is poverty: so, by Allah, I will go out from this land and wander afar in the plains and valleys; for my condition in this city is one of misery and I have no friend nor lover in it to comfort me; wherefore I will distract myself by absence from my native land, till I die and am at peace from abasement and tribulation." And he repeated the following verses:

Though my soul weary for distress and flutter fast for woe, Yet of its nature was it ne'er to buckle to a foe.
Excuse me; for indeed my heart is like a book, whereof The superscription's nought but tears, that aye unceasing flow.
Behold my cousin, how she seems a maid of Paradise, A houri come, by Rizwan's grace, to visit us below!
Who seeks the glances of her eyes and dares the scathing stroke Of their bright swords, shall hardly 'scape their swift and deadly blow.
Lo, I will wander o'er the world, to free my heart from bale And compensation for its loss upon my soul bestow!
Yea, I will range the fields of war and tilt against the brave And o'er the champions will I ride roughshod and lay them low.
Then will I come back, glad at heart and rich in goods and store, Driving the herds and flocks as spoil before me, as I go.
So he went out in the darkness of the night, barefoot, wearing a short-sleeved tunic and a skull-cap of felt seven years old and carrying a cake of dry bread, three days stale, and betook himself to the gate El Arij of Baghdad. Here he waited till the gate opened, when he was the first to go forth; and he went out at random and wandered in the deserts day and night. When the night came, his mother sought him, but found him not, whereupon the world, for all its wideness, was straitened upon her and she took no delight in aught of its good. She looked for him a first day and a second and a third, till ten days were past, but no news of him reached her. Then her breast became contracted and she shrieked and lamented, saying, "O my son, O my delight, thou hast revived my sorrows! Did not what I endured suffice, but thou must depart from the place of my abiding? After thee, I care not for food nor delight in sleep, and but tears and mourning are left me. O my son, from what land shall I call thee? What country hath given thee refuge?" And her sobs burst up, and she repeated the following verses:

We know that, since you went away, by grief and pain we're tried. The bows of severance on us full many a shaft have plied.
They girt their saddles on and gainst the agonies of death Left me to strive alone, whilst they across the sand-wastes tried.
Deep in the darkness of the night a ring-dove called to me, Complaining of her case; but I, "Give o'er thy plaint," replied.
For, by thy life, an if her heart were full of dole, like mine, She had not put a collar on nor yet her feet had dyed.
My cherished friend is gone and I for lack of him endure All manner sorrows which with me for ever will abide.
Then she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to weeping and lamentation. Her grief became known and all the people of the town and country wept with her and said, "Where is thine eye, O Zoulmekan?" And they bewailed the rigour of fate, saying, "What can have befallen him, that he left his native town and fled from the place where his father used to fill the hungry and do justice and mercy?" And his mother redoubled her tears and lamentations, till the news of Kanmakan's departure came to King Sasan through the chief amirs, who said to him, "Verily, he is the son of our (late) King and the grandson of King Omar ben Ennuman and we hear that he hath exiled himself from the country." When King Sasan heard these words, he was wroth with them and ordered one of them to be hanged, whereat the fear of him fell upon the hearts of the rest and they dared not speak one word. Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zoulmekan had done him and how he had commended his son to his care; wherefore he grieved for Kanmakan and said "Needs must I have search made for him in all countries." So he summoned Terkash and bade him choose a hundred horse and go in quest of the prince. Accordingly he went out and was absent ten days, after which he returned and said, "I can learn no tidings of him and have come on no trace of him, nor can any tell me aught of him." With this, King Sasan repented him of that which he had done with Kanmakan; whilst his mother abode without peace or comfort, nor would patience come at her call: and thus twenty heavy days passed over her.

To return to Kanmakan. When he left Baghdad, he went forth, perplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should go: so he fared on alone into the desert for the space of three days and saw neither footman nor horseman. Sleep deserted him and his wakefulness redoubled, for he pined for his people and his country. So he wandered on, eating of the herbs of the earth and drinking of its waters and resting under its trees at the hour of the noontide heats, till he came to another road, into which he turned and following it other three days, came to a land of green fields and smiling valleys, abounding in the fruits of the earth. It had drunken of the beakers of the clouds, to the sound of the voices of the turtle and the ring-dove, till its hill-sides were enamelled with verdure and its fields were fragrant. At this sight, Kanmakan recalled his father's city Baghdad, and for excess of emotion repeated the following verses:

I wander on, in hope I may return Some day, yet know not when that day shall be.
What drove me forth was that I found no means To fend awe, the ills that pressed on me.
Then he wept, but presently wiped away his tears and ate of the fruits of the earth. Then he made his ablutions and prayed the ordained prayers that he had neglected all this time; after which he sat in that place, resting, the whole day. When the night came, he lay down and slept till midnight, when he awoke and heard a man's voice repeating the following verses:

Life unto me is worthless, except I see the shine Of the flashing teeth of my mistress and eke her face divine.
The bishops in the convents pray for her day and night And in the mosques the imams fall prone before her shrine.
Death's easier than the rigours of a beloved one, Whose image never cheers me, whenas I lie and pine.
O joy of boon-companions, when they together be And lover and beloved in one embrace entwine!
Still more so in the season of Spring, with all its flowers, What time the world is fragrant with blossoms sweet and fine.
Up, drinker of the vine-juice, and forth, for seest thou not Earth gilt with blooms and waters all welling forth like wine?
When Kanmakan heard this, it revived his sorrows; his tears ran down his cheeks like rivers and flames of fire raged in his heart. He rose to see who it was that spoke, but saw none, for the thickness of the dark; whereupon passion increased on him and he was alarmed and restlessness possessed him. So he descended to the bottom of the valley and followed the banks of the stream, till he heard one sighing heavily, and the same voice recited the followed verses:

Though thou have used to dissemble the love in thy heart for fear, Give on the day of parting, free course to sob and tear.
'Twixt me and my beloved were vows of love and troth; So cease I for her never to long and wish her near.
My heart is full of longing; the zephyr, when it blows, To many a thought of passion stirs up my heavy cheer.
Doth she o' the anklets hold me in mind, whilst far away, Though between me and Saada were solemn vows and dear?
Shall the nights e'er unite us, the nights of dear delight, And shall we tell our suff'rings, each in the other's ear?
"Thou seduced by passion for us," quoth she, and I, "God keep Thy lovers all! How many have fallen to thy spear?"
If mine eyes taste the pleasance of sleep, while she's afar, May God deny their vision her beauties many a year!
O the wound in mine entrails! I see no cure for it Save love-delight and kisses from crimson lips and clear.
When Kanmakan heard this, yet saw no one, he knew that the speaker was a lover like unto himself, debarred the company of her whom he loved; and he said to himself; "It were fitting that this man should lay his head to mine and become my comrade in this my strangerhood." Then he hailed the speaker and cried out to him, saying "O thou that goest in the sombre night, draw near to me and tell me thy history. Haply thou shalt find in me one who will succour thee in shine affliction." "O thou that answerest my complaint and wouldst know my history," rejoined the other, "who art thou amongst the cavaliers? Art thou a man or a genie? Answer me speedily ere thy death draw near, for these twenty days have I wandered in this desert and have seen no one nor heard any voice but thine." When Kanmakan heard this, he said to himself, "His case is like unto mine, for I also have wandered twenty days in the desert and have seen none nor heard any voice: but I will make him no answer till the day." So he was silent and the other called out to him, saying, "O thou that callest, if thou be of the Jinn, go in peace, and if thou be a man, stay awhile, till the day break and the night flee with the dark." So they abode each in his own place, reciting verses and weeping with abundant tears, till the light of day appeared and the night departed with the darkness. Then Kanmakan looked at the other and found him a youth of the Bedouin Arabs, clad in worn clothes and girt-with a rusty sword, and the signs of passion were apparent on him. So he went up to him and accosting him, saluted him. The Bedouin returned the salute and greeted him courteously, but made little account of him, for what he saw of his tender years and his condition, which was that of a poor man. So he said to him, "O youth, of what tribe art thou and to whom art thou kin among the Arabs? What is thy history and wherefore goest thou by night, after the fashion of champions? Indeed, thou spokest to me in the night words such as are spoken of none but magnanimous cavaliers and lionhearted warriors; and now thy life is in my hand. But I have compassion on thee by reason of thy tender age; so I will make thee my companion, and thou shalt go with me, to do me service." When Kanmakan heard him speak thus unseemly, after what he had shown him of skill in verse, he knew that he despised him and thought to presume with him; so he answered him with soft and dulcet speech, saying, "O chief of the Arabs, leave my tenderness of age and tell me thy story and why thou wanderest by night in the desert, reciting verses. Thou talkest of my serving thee; who then art thou and what moved thee to speak thus?" "Harkye, boy!" answered the Bedouin, "I am Subbah, son of Remmah ben Hummam. My people are of the Arabs of Syria, and I have a cousin called Nejmeh, who brings delight to all that look on her. My father died, and I was brought up in the house of my uncle, the father of Nejmeh; but when I grew up and my cousin became a woman, they excluded her from me and me from her, seeing that I was poor and of little estate. However, the chiefs of the Arabs and the heads of the tribes went in to her father and rebuked him, and he was abashed before them and consented to give me his daughter, but upon condition that I should bring him as her dower fifty head of horses and fifty dromedaries and fifty camels laden with wheat and a like number laden with barley, together with ten male and ten female slaves. The dowry he imposed upon me was beyond my competence; for he exacted more than the due marriage portion. So now I am travelling from Syria to Irak, having passed twenty days without seeing other than thyself, and I mean to go to Baghdad, that I may note what rich and considerable merchants start thence. Then I will go out in their track and seize their goods, for I will kill their men and drive off their camels with their loads. But what manner of man art thou?" "Thy case is like unto mine," replied Kanmakan; "save that my complaint is more grievous than thine; for my cousin is a king's daughter, and the dowry of which thou hast spoken would not content her family, nor would they be satisfied with the like of that from me." "Surely," said Subbah, "thou art mad or light-headed for excess of passion! How can thy cousin be a king's daughter? Thou hast no sign of princely rank on thee, for thou art but a mendicant." "O chief of the Arabs," rejoined Kanmakan, "marvel not at my case, for it is due to the shifts of fortune; and if thou desire proof of me, behold, I am Kanmakan, son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and Khorassan, and fortune hath played the tyrant with me; for my father died and (my uncle) King Sasan took the Sultanate. So I fled forth from Baghdad, secretly, lest any should see me, and have wandered twenty days, without seeing any but thyself. So now I have discovered to thee my case, and my history is as thy history and my need as thy need." When Subbah heard this, he cried out and said, "O joy! I have attained my desire! I will have no booty this day but thyself; for, since thou art of the lineage of kings and hast come out in the habit of a beggar, it cannot be but thy people will seek thee, and if they find thee in any one's hand, they will ransom thee with much treasure. So put thy hands behind thee, O my lad, and walk before me." "Softly, O brother of the Arabs," answered Kanmakan; "my people will not ransom me with silver nor with gold, no, not with a brass dirhem; and I am a poor man, having with me neither much nor little: so leave this behaviour with me and take me to comrade. Let us go forth of the land of Irak and wander over the world, so haply we may win dower and marriage-portion and enjoy our cousins' embraces." When Subbah heard this, he was angry; his arrogance and heat redoubled and he said, "Out on thee, O vilest of dogs! Dost thou bandy words with me? Turn thy back, or I will chastise thee." At this Kanmakan smiled and answered, "Why should I turn my back for thee? Is there no equity in thee? Dost thou not fear to bring reproach upon the Arabs by driving a man like myself captive, in dishonour and humiliation, before thou hast proved him in the field, to know if he be a warrior or a coward?" The Bedouin laughed and replied, "By Allah, I wonder at thee! Thou art a boy in years, but old in talk. These words should come from none but a doughty champion: what wantest thou of equity? "If thou wilt have me be thy captive, to serve thee," said Kanmakan, "throw down thine arms and put off thine upper clothes and wrestle with me; and whichever of us throws the other shall have his will of him and make him his servant." The other laughed and said, "I think thy much talk denotes the nearness of thy death." Then he threw down his sword and tucking up his skirt, drew near unto Kanmakan, and they gripped each other. But the Bedouin found that Kanmakan had the better of him and outweighed him, as the quintal outweighs the dinar; and he looked at his legs and saw that they were as firmly planted as two well-builded minarets or two tent-poles driven into the ground or two immovable mountains. So he knew that he himself was not able to cope with him and repented of having come to wrestle with him, saying in himself, "Would I had fallen on him with my weapons!" Then Kanmakan took hold of him and mastering him shook him, till he thought his guts would burst in his belly and roared out, "Hold thy hand, O boy!" He heeded him not, but shook him again, and lifting him from the ground, made with him towards the stream, that he might throw him therein: whereupon the Bedouin cried out, saying, "O valiant man, what wilt thou do with me?" Quoth Kanmakan, "I mean to throw thee into this stream: it will carry thee to the Tigris. The Tigris will bring thee to the river Isa and the Isa to the Euphrates, and the Euphrates will bear thee to thine own country; so thy people will see thee and know thy manlihead and the sincerity of thy passion." When Subbah heard this, he cried out and said, "O champion of the desert, do not with me the deed of the wicked, but let me go, by the life of thy cousin, the jewel of the fair!" With this, Kanmakan set him down; and when he found himself at liberty, he ran to his sword and buckler and taking them up, stood plotting in himself treachery and a sudden attack on Kanmakan. The latter read his intent in his eye and said to him, "I know what is in thy mind, now thou hast hold of thy sword and buckler. Thou hast neither strength nor skill for wrestling, but thou thinkest that, wert thou on horseback and couldst wheel about and ply me with thy sword, I had been slain long ago. But I will give thee thy will, so there may be no despite left in thy heart. Give me the buckler and fall on me with thy sword; either I shall kill thee or thou me." "Here it is," answered Subbah and throwing him the shield, drew his sword and rushed at him. Kanmakan took the buckler in his right hand and began to fend himself with it, whilst Subbah struck at him with- the sword, saying at each stroke, "This is the finishing one!" But Kanmakan received all his blows on his buckler and they fell harmless, though he did not strike back again, having no weapon of offence; and Subbah ceased not to smite at him, till his arm was weary. When the prince saw this, he rushed at him and seizing him in his arms, shook him and threw him to the ground. Then he turned him over on his face and binding his arms behind him with the hangers of his sword, began to drag him by the feet towards the river: whereupon cried Subbah, "What wilt thou do with me, O youth and cavalier of the age and hero of the field? " "Did I not tell thee," answered Kanmakan, "that it was my intent to send thee by the river to thy people and thy tribe, lest their hearts be troubled for thee and thou miss thy cousin's bride-feast?" At this, Subbah shrieked aloud and wept and said, "Do not thus, O champion of the time! Let me go and make me one of thy servants." And he wept and wailed and recited the following verses:

An outcast from my folk (how long my exile lasts!) am I. Would God I knew if I in this my strangerhood shall die!
I perish, and my folk know not the place where I am slain; I fall in exile, far away from her for whom I sigh.
Kanmakan had compassion on him and said to him, "Make a covenant with me and swear to be a true comrade to me and to bear me company whithersoever I may go." "It is well," replied Subbah and took the required oath. So Kanmakan loosed him, and he rose and would have kissed the prince's hand; but he forbade him. Then the Bedouin opened his wallet and taking out three barley-cakes, laid them before Kanmakan, and they both sat down on the bank of the stream to eat. When they had done eating, they made the ablution and prayed, after which they sat talking of what had befallen each of them from his people and the shifts of fortune. Then said Kanmakan, "Whither dost thou now intend?" "I purpose," replied Subbah, "to repair to Baghdad, thy native town, and abide there, till God vouchsafe me the marriage-portion " "Up then," rejoined the other, "and to the road! I abide here." So the Bedouin took leave of him and set out for Baghdad, whilst Kanmakan remained behind, saying to himself, "O my soul, how shall I return poor and needy? By Allah, I will not go back empty-handed, and if God please, I will assuredly work my deliverance!" Then he went to the stream and made his ablutions and prayed to his Lord, laying his brow in the dust and saying, "O my God, Thou that makest the dew to fall and feedest the worm in the rock, vouchsafe me, I beseech Thee, my livelihood, of Thy power and the graciousness of Thy compassion!" Then he pronounced the salutation that closes prayer and sat, turning right and left and knowing not which way to take. Presently, he saw, making towards him, a horseman whose back was bowed and who let the reins droop. He sat still and after awhile the horseman came up to him, when, behold, he was at the last gasp and made sure of death, for he was grievously wounded. The tears streamed down his cheeks, like water from the mouths of skins, and he said to Kanmakan, "O chief of the Arabs, take me to friend, whilst I live, for thou wilt not find my like, and give me a little water, harmful though the drinking of water be to a wounded man, especially whilst the blood is flowing and the life with it. If I live, I will give thee what shall heal thy distress and thy poverty; and if I die, mayst thou be blessed for thy good intent!" Now this horseman had under him a stallion of the most generous breed, with legs like shafts of marble, the tongue fails to describe it; and when Kanmakan looked at it, he was seized with longing admiration and said in himself, "Verily, the like of this stallion is not to be found in our time." Then he helped the rider to alight and entreated him friendly and gave him a little water to drink; after which he waited till he was rested and said to him, "Who has dealt thus with thee?" "I will tell thee the truth of the case," answered the wounded man. "I am a horse-thief and all my life I have occupied myself with stealing and snatching horses, night and day, and my name is Ghessan, surnamed the plague of all stables and horses. I heard tell of this stallion, that he was with King Afridoun in the land of the Greeks, where they had named him El Catoul and surnamed him El Mejnoun. So I journeyed to Constantinople on his account, and whilst I was watching my opportunity to get at him, there came out an old woman, much considered among the Greeks and whose word is law with them, a past mistress in all manner of trickery, by name Shewahi Dhat ed Dewahi. She had with her this stallion and ten slaves, no more, to attend on her and it, and was bound for Baghdad, there to sue for peace and pardon from King Sasan. So I went out in their track, thinking to get the horse, and ceased not to follow them, but was unable to get at the stallion, by reason of the strict guard kept by the slaves, till they reached this country and I feared lest they should enter the city of Baghdad. As I was casting about to steal the horse, behold, a great cloud of dust arose and covered the prospect. Presently it opened and disclosed fifty horsemen, banded together to waylay merchants and led by a captain by name Kehrdash, like a raging lion, yea, in battle a lion that lays heroes flat even as a carpet. They bore down on the old woman and her company, shouting and surrounding them, nor was it long before they bound her and the ten slaves and made off with their captives and the horse, rejoicing. When I saw this, I said to myself, 'My toil is wasted and I have not attained my desire.' However, I waited to see how the affair would result, and when the old woman found herself a captive, she wept and said to Kehrdash, 'O doughty champion and invincible warrior, what wilt thou do with an old woman and slaves, now thou hast thy will of the horse?' And she beguiled him with soft words and promises that she would send him horses and cattle, till he released her and her slaves. Then he went his way, he and his comrades, and I followed them to this country, watching my opportunity, till at last I succeeded in stealing the horse, whereupon I mounted him and drawing a whip from my wallet, struck him with it. When the robbers heard this, they came out on me and surrounded me on all sides and shot arrows and cast spears at me, whilst I stuck fast on the horse's back and he defended me with his hoofs, till at last he shot out with me from amongst them, like an arrow from the bow or a shooting star, after I had gotten a grievous wound in the press of the battle. Since that time, I have passed three days in the saddle, without tasting food or sleep, so that my strength is wasted and the world is become of no account to me. But thou hast dealt kindly with me and hast had pity on me: and I see thee naked of body and sorrowful of aspect; yet are the marks of gentle breeding manifest on thee. So tell me, what and whence art thou and whither art thou bound?" "My name is Kanmakan," answered the prince, "son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. My father died, and a base man seized the throne after his death and became king over great and small." Then he told him all his story from first to last; and the thief said to him, (and indeed he had compassion on him), "By Allah, thou art a man of great account and exceeding nobility and thou shalt surely win to high estate and become the first cavalier of thy time! If thou canst lift me into the saddle and mount behind me and bring me to my country, thou shalt have honour in this world and a reward on the Day of calling of men one to another; (155) for I have no strength left to hold myself in the saddle; and if I die by the way, the steed is thine; for thou art worthier of it than any other." "By Allah," said Kanmakan, "if I could carry thee on my shoulders or share my life with thee, I would do so, without the horse! For I am of those that love to do good and succour the afflicted. So make ready to set out and put thy trust in the Subtle, the All-Wise." And he would have lifted him on to the horse and set forward, trusting in God the Succourable. But the robber said, "Wait for me a little." Then he closed his eyes and opening his hands, said, "I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the Apostle of God! O Glorious One, pardon me my mortal sin, for none can pardon mortal sins save Thou!" And he made ready for death and recited the following verses:
 

I've ranged through all countries, oppressing mankind, And in drinking of wine I have wasted my days.
I've waded through torrents, the horses to steal And I've used with my guile the high places to raze.
My case is right grievous and great is my guilt, And Catoul, alas! is the end of my ways.
I hoped of this horse I should get my desire; But vain was my journey and vain my essays.
All my life I have stolen the steeds, and my death Was decreed of the Lord of all power and all praise.
So, in fine, for the good of the stranger, the poor, The orphan, I've wearied in toils and affrays.
When he had finished, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth; then giving one sob, he departed this life. Kanmakan rose and dug a grave and laid him in the earth. Then he went up to the stallion and kissed it and wiped its face and rejoiced with an exceeding joy, saying, "None has the like of this horse, no, not even King Sasan." So much for Kanmakan.

Meanwhile, news came to King Sasan that the Vizier Dendan and half the army had thrown off their allegiance to him and sworn that they would have no king but Kanmakan and the Vizier had bound the troops by a solemn covenant and had gone with them to the islands of India and Ethiopia, where he had gathered together a host like the swollen sea, none could tell its van from its rear. Moreover, he was resolved to make for Baghdad and possess himself of the kingdom and slay all who should let him, having sworn not to return the sword of war to its sheath, till he had set Kanmakan on the throne. When this news came to Sasan, he was drowned in the sea of melancholy, knowing that the whole state had furled against him, great and small, and trouble and anxiety were sore on him. So he opened his treasuries and distributed that which was therein among his officers and prayed for Kanmakan's return, that he might draw his heart to him with fair usage and bounty and make him commander of those troops that remained faithful to him, hoping thus to prop his [falling] power. The news of this reached Kanmakan by the merchants; so he returned in haste to Baghdad, riding on the aforesaid stallion, and the news of his coming reached King Sasan, as he sat perplexed upon his throne; whereupon he despatched all the troops and head-men of Baghdad to meet him. So all who were in Baghdad went out to meet the Prince and escorted him to the palace and kissed the threshold, whilst the damsels and eunuchs went in to his mother and gave her the good tidings of his return. She came to him and kissed him between the eyes, but he said to her, "O my mother, let me go to my uncle King Sasan, who hath overwhelmed us with favours and benefits." Then he repaired to the palace, whilst all the people marvelled at the beauty of the stallion and said, "No king is like unto this man." So he went in to King Sasan, who rose to receive him; and Kanmakan saluted him and kissing his hands, offered him the horse as a present. The King bade him welcome, saying, "Welcome and fair welcome to my son Kanmakan! By Allah, the world hath been straitened on me by reason of thine absence, but praised be God for thy safety!" And Kanmakan called down blessings on him. Then the King looked at the stallion and knowing it for the very horse, Catoul by name, that he had seen in such and such a year, whilst at the leaguer of Constantinople with King Zoulmekan, said to Kanmakan, "I! thy father could have come by this horse, he would have bought him with a thousand chargers of price: but now let the honour return to thee who deservest it. We accept the steed and return it to thee as a gift, for thou hast more right to it than any man alive, being the prince of cavaliers." Then he bade bring forth for him dresses of honour and led horses and appointed him the chief lodging in the palace, giving him much money and showing him the utmost honour, for that he feared the issue of the Vizier Dendan's doings. At this Kanmakan rejoiced and despondency and humiliation ceased from him. Then he went to his house and said to his mother, "O my mother, how is it with my cousin ? " "By Allah, O my son," answered she, "my concern for thine absence hath distracted me from any other, even to thy beloved; especially as she was the cause of thine exile and separation from me." Then he complained to her of his sufferings, saying, "O my mother, go to her and speak with her; haply she will favour me with a sight of her and dispel my anguish." "O my son," replied his mother, "idle desires abase the necks of men; so put away from thee this thought that will but lead to vexation; for I will not go to her nor carry her such a message." Thereupon he told her what he had heard from the horse-thief concerning Dhat ed Dewahi, how she was then in their land, on her way to Baghdad, and added, "It was she who slew my uncle and grandfather, and needs must I avenge them and wipe out our reproach." Then he left her and repaired to an old woman, by name Saadaneh, a cunning, perfidious and pernicious beldam, past mistress in all kinds of trickery and deceit To her he complained of what he suffered for love of his cousin Kuzia Fekan and begged her to go to her and implore her favour for him. "I hear and obey," answered the old woman and betaking herself to Kuzia Fekan's palace, interceded with her in his favour. Then she returned to him and said, "Thy cousin salutes thee and will visit thee this night at the middle hour." At this he rejoiced and sat down to await the fulfilment of his cousin's promise. At the appointed hour she came to him, wrapped in a veil of black silk, and aroused him from sleep, saying, "How canst thou pretend to love me, when thou art sleeping, heart-free, after the goodliest fashion?" So he awoke and said, "O desire of my heart, by Allah, I slept not but hoping that thine image might visit me in dreams!" Then she chid him tenderly and repeated the following verses:

Wert thou indeed a lover true and leal, Thou hadst not suffered slumber on thee creep.
O thou who feign'st to walk the ways of love, The watch of passion and desire to keep,
Son of my uncle, sure the eyes of those Who're love-distraught know not the taste of sleep.
When he heard his cousin's words, he was abashed before her and rose and excused himself. Then they embraced and complained to each other of the anguish of separation; and thus they did, till the dawn broke and the day flowered forth over the lands; when she rose to depart. At this, Kanmakan wept and sighed and repeated the following verses:

She came to me, after her pride had driven me to despair, She in whose lips the teeth as the pearls of her necklace were.
I kissed her a thousand times and clipped her close in my arms And lay all night with my cheek pressed close to the cheek of the fair;
Till the day, that must sever our loves, as 'twere the blade of a sword That flashes forth of its sheath, gleamed out on us unaware.
Then she took leave of him and returned to her palace. Now she let certain of her damsels into her secret, and one of them told the King, who went in to Kuzia Fekan and drawing his sabre upon her, would have slain her: but her mother Nuzhet ez Zeman entered and said to him, 'By Allah, do her no hurt, lest it be noised among the folk and thou become a reproach among the kings of the age! Thou knowest that Kanmakan is no base-born wretch, but a man of honour and nobility, who would not do aught that could shame him, and she was reared with him. So take patience and be not hasty; for verily the report is spread abroad, among the people of the palace and all the folk of the city, how the Vizier Dendan hath levied troops from all countries and is on his way hither to make Kanmakan king." "By Allah," said the King, "needs must I cast him into a calamity, such that neither earth shall bear him nor sky shadow him! I did but speak him fair and entreat him with favour, because of my subjects and officers, lest they should turn to him; but thou shalt see what will betide." Then he left her and went out to order the affairs of the kingdom.

Next day, Kanmakan came in to his mother and said to her, "O my mother, I am resolved to go forth a-raiding in quest of booty. I will waylay caravans and seize horses and flocks and slaves black and white, and as soon as my store is waxed great and my case is bettered, I will demand my cousin Kuzia Fekan in marriage of my uncle." "O my son," replied she, "of a truth the goods of men are not as a wastril camel, ready to thy hand; but between thee and them are sword-strokes and lance-thrusts and men that eat wild beasts and lay waste countries and snare lions and trap lynxes." Quoth he, "God forbid that I should turn from my purpose, till I have attained my desire!" Then he despatched the old woman to Kuzia Fekan, to tell her that he was about to set out in quest of a dowry befitting her, saying, "Thou must without fail bring me an answer from her." "I hear and obey," repled the old woman and going forth, presently returned with Kuzia Fekan's answer, which was that she would come to him at midnight. So he abode awake till one half of the night was past, when disquietude got hold on him, and before he was aware, she came in to him, saying, "My life be thy ransom from wakefulness!" And he sprang up to receive her, exclaiming, "O desire of my heart, my life be thy ransom from all things evil!" Then he acquainted her with his intent, and she wept; but he said, "Weep not, O my cousin; for I beseech Him who decreed our separation to vouchsafe us reunion and felicity." Then Kanmakan went in to his mother and took leave of her, after which he girt on his sword and donned turban and chin-band and mounting his horse Catoul, rode through the streets of Baghdad, till he reached the gate of the city. Here he found his comrade Subbah ben Remmah going out, who, seeing him, ran to his stirrup and saluted him. He returned his greeting, and Subbah said to him, "O my brother, how camest thou by this steed and sword and clothes, whilst I up to now have gotten nothing but my sword and target?" Quoth Kanmakan, "The hunter returns not but with game after the measure of his intent. A little after thy departure, fortune came to me: so now wilt thou go with me and work thine intent in my company and journey with me in this desert?" "By the Lord of the Kaabeh," replied Subbah, "from this time forth I will call thee nought but 'My lord!'" Then he ran on before the horse with his sword hanging from his neck and his budget between his shoulder-blades, and they pushed on into the desert four days' space, eating of the gazelles they caught and drinking of the water of the springs. On the fifth day, they came in sight of a high hill, at whose foot was a Spring encampment and a running stream. The knolls and hollows were filled with camels and oxen and sheep and horses, and little children played about the cattle-folds. When Kanmakan saw this, he was right glad and his breast was filled with joy; so he addressed himself to battle, that he might take the camels and the cattle, and said to Subbah, "Come, let us fall upon this good, whose owners have left it unguarded, and do battle for it with near and far, so haply it may fall to our lot and we will share it between us." "O my lord," replied Subbah, "verily they to whom these herds belong are much people, and among them are doughty horsemen and footmen. If we cast ourselves into this great danger, neither of us will return to his people; but we shall both be cut off utterly and leave our cousins desolate." When Kanmakan heard this, he laughed and knew that he was a coward: so he left him and rode down the hill, intent on rapine, shouting and chanting aloud the following verses:

O the house of En Numan is mickle of might! We're the champions with swords on the squadrons that smite!
When the fury of battle flames high in our hearts, We're aye to be found in the front of the fight.
The poor man amongst us may slumber secure Nor see the foul favour of want or upright.
I hope for the succour of Him in whose hand Is the Kingdom, the Maker of body and spright.
Then he rushed upon the cattle, like a camel in heat, and drove them all, oxen and sheep and horses and camels, before him. Therewith the slaves ran at him with their bright swords and their long lances; and at their head was a Turkish horseman, a stout champion, doughty in battle and onset and skilled to wield the tawny spear and the white sabre. He drove at Kanmakan, saying, "Out on thee! Knewest thou to whom these cattle belong, thou hadst not done this thing! Know that they are the good of the Greek band, the champions of the sea and the Circassian troop, and they are a hundred cavaliers, all stern warriors, who have forsworn the commandment of all kings. There has been stolen from them a steed of great price, and they have vowed not to return hence, but with it." When Kanmakan heard these words, he cried out, saying, "O losers, this that I bestride is the steed itself, after which ye seek and for whose sake ye would do battle with me! So come out against me, all of you at once, and do your dourest!" So saying, he cried out between Catoul's ears and he ran at them, as he were a ghoul. Then Kanmakan drove at the Turk and smote him and overthrew him and let out his life; after which he turned upon a second and a third and a fourth and bereft them also of life. When the slaves saw this, they were afraid of him, and he cried out and said to them, "Ho, sons of whores, drive out the cattle and the horses, or I will dye my spear in your blood!" So they untethered the cattle and began to drive them out, and Subbah came down to Kanmakan, crying out with a loud voice and rejoicing greatly; when, behold, there arose a cloud of dust and grew till it covered the prospect, and there appeared under it a hundred cavaliers, like fierce lions. With this Subbah fled up on to the hill, that he might gaze upon the fight in safety, saying, "I am no warrior but in sport and jest." Then the hundred cavaliers made towards Kanmakan from all sides, and one of them accosted him, saying, "Whither goest thou with this good?" "I have made prize of them," replied he, "and am carrying them away; and I forbid you from them, for know that he who is before you is a terrible lion and an illustrious champion and a sword that cuts wherever it turns!" When the horseman heard this, he looked at Kanmakan and saw that he was a cavalier as he were a strong lion, whilst his face was as the full moon rising on its fourteenth night, and valour shone from between his eyes. Now this horseman was the chief of the hundred horse, and his name was Kehrdash; and what he saw in Kanmakan of the perfection of martial grace, together with surpassing beauty and comeliness, reminded him of a mistress of his, by name Fatin. Now this Fatin was one of the fairest of women in face, for God had given her beauty and grace and charms and noble qualities of all kinds, such as the tongue fails to describe. Moreover, the cavaliers of the tribe feared her prowess and the champions of the land stood in awe of her, and she had sworn that she would not marry nor give any possession of her, except he should conquer her, saying to her father, "None shall approach me, except he master me in the field and the stead of war." Kehrdash was one of her suitors, and when the news reached him of the vow she had taken, he thought scorn to fight with a girl, fearing reproach; and one of his friends said to him, "Thou art accomplished in beauty and manly qualities; so if thou contend with her, even though she be stronger than thou, thou must needs overcome her, for when she sees thy beauty and grace, she will be discomfited before thee, seeing that women by nature incline unto men, as is not unknown to thee." Nevertheless he refused and would not contend with her, albeit indeed she loved him, for what she had heard of his beauty and velour: and he ceased not to abstain from her thus, till he met with Kanmakan, as hath been set down. Now he took the prince for his beloved Fatin and was afraid; so he went up to him and said, "Out on thee, O Fatin! Thou comest to show me thy prowess; but now alight from thy steed, that I may talk with thee, for I have driven off these cattle and waylaid horsemen and champions, all for the sake of thy beauty and grace, which are without peer. So now thou shalt marry me, that kings' daughters may wait on thee, and thou shalt become queen of these countries." When Kanmakan heard this, the fires of wrath flamed up in him and he cried out, saying, "Out on thee, O dog of the barbarians! Leave thy raving of Fatin and come to cutting and thrusting, for eftsoon thou shalt lie in the dust." So saying, he began to wheel about him and offer battle. Then Kehrdash observed him more closely and saw that he was indeed a doughty knight and a stalwart champion; and the error of his thought was manifest to him, whenas he saw the tender down that adorned his cheeks, as it were myrtles springing from the heart of a red rose. And he feared his onslaught and said to those that were with him, "Out on you! Let one of you attack him and show him the keen sword and the quivering spear; for know that for a company to do battle with one man is foul shame, even though he be a doughty man of war and an invincible champion." With this, there ran at Kanmakan a lion-like horseman, mounted on a black horse with white feet and a star on his forehead, the bigness of a dirhem, astounding sight and wit, as he were Abjer, that was Antar's steed: even as saith of him the poet:

See, where the stallion yonder comes, that with a fierce delight Drives to the battle, mingling earth with heaven in his might.
Meseems, the morning smote his brow and to avenge himself Thereon, he plunges straight and deep into its heart of light.
He rushed upon Kanmakan, who met him in mid-career, and they wheeled about awhile in the dint of battle, exchanging blows such as confound the wit and dim the sight, till Kanmakan took the other at vantage and smote him a swashing blow, that shore through turban and iron skull-cap and reached his head, and he fell from his saddle, as a camel falls, when he rolls over. Then a second came out to him and a third and a fourth and a fifth, and he did with them all as he had done with the first. Thereupon the rest rushed upon him, all at once, for indeed they were wild with rage and concern; but it was not long before he had transfixed them all with the point of his lance. When Kehrdash saw his feats of arms, he knew that he was stout of heart and concluded that he was the phoenix of the champions and heroes of the age: so he feared death and said to Kanmakan, "I give thee thy life and pardon thee the blood of my comrades, for I have compassion on thee by reason of thy fair youth. So take what thou wilt of the cattle and go thy ways, for life is better for thee [than death]." "Thou lackest not of the generosity of the noble," (156) replied Kanmakan; "but leave this talk and flee for thy life and reck not of blame nor think to get back the booty; but take the straight path for thine own safety." When Kehrdash heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and his anger moved him to that which was the cause of his death; so he said to Kanmakan, "Out on thee! Knewest thou who I am, thou wouldst not talk thus in the open field. I am the doughty lion known as Kehrdash, he who despoils great kings and waylays all the travellers and seizes the merchants' goods. Yonder steed under thee is what I am seeking and I call upon thee to tell me how thou camest by it." "Know," replied Kanmakan, "that this steed was being carried to my uncle King Sasan in the company of a certain old woman, attended by ten slaves, when thou fellest upon her and tookest the horse from her; and I have a debt of blood against this old woman for the sake of my grandfather King Omar ben Ennuman and my uncle King Sherkan." "Out on thee!" said Kehrdash. "Who is thy father, O thou that hast no (known) mother?" "Know," answered the prince, "that I am Kanmakan, son of Zoulmekan, son of Omar ben Ennuman." Quoth Kehrdash, "Thy perfection cannot be denied, nor yet the union in thee of martial virtue and comeliness: but go in peace, for thy father showed us favour and bounty." "By Allah, O vile wretch," rejoined Kanmakan, "I will not so far honour thee as to overcome thee in the open field!" At this the Bedouin was wroth and they drove at one another, shouting aloud, whilst their horses pricked up their ears and raised their tails. They clashed together with such a dint, that it seemed to each as if the heavens were split in sunder, and strove like two butting rams, smiting one another with thick-coming spear-strokes. Presently, Kehrdash aimed a blow at Kanmakan; but he evaded it and turning upon the brigand, smote him in the breast, that the head of the spear issued from his back. Then he collected the horses and cattle and cried out to the slaves, saying, "Up and drive them off briskly!" With this down came Subbah and accosting Kanmakan, said to him, "Thou hast quitted thee right well, O hero of the age! I prayed God for thee and He heard my prayer." Then he cut off Kehrdash's head and Kanmakan laughed and said, "Out on thee, Subbah! I thought thee a man of valour." Quoth the Bedouin, "Forget not thy slave in the division of the spoil, so haply I may win therewith to marry my cousin Nejmeh." "Thou shalt surely have a share in it," answered Kanmakan, "but now keep watch over the booty and the slaves." Then they set out and journeyed night and day till they drew near Baghdad, and all the troops heard of Kanmakan and saw the booty and the brigand's head on the point of Subbah's spear. Moreover, the merchants knew Kehrdash's head and rejoiced, for he was a noted highwayman, saying, "Allah hath rid mankind of him!" And they marvelled at his death and called down blessings on his slayer. Then all the people of Baghdad came to Kanmakan, seeking to know what had befallen him, and he told them what had passed, whereupon they were taken with awe of him and all the champions and men of war feared him. After this, he drove his spoil to the palace and planting the spear, on which was Kehrdash's head, before the gate, gave largesse to the people of camels and horses so that they loved him and all hearts inclined to him. Then he took Subbah and lodged him in a spacious dwelling, giving him part of the booty; after which he went in to his mother and told her all that had befallen him. Meanwhile the news of him reached the King, who rose and shutting himself up with his chief officers, said to them, "I wish to reveal to you my secret and acquaint you with the truth of my case. Know that Kanmakan will be the cause of our expulsion from the kingdom; for he has slain Kehrdash, albeit he had with him the tribes of the Turks and the Kurds, and our affair with him will assuredly result in our destruction, seeing that the most part of our troops are his kinsmen and ye know what the Vizier Dendan hath done; how he refuses to recognize me, after all the favours I have done him, and is become a traitor to his faith. Indeed, it has come to my knowledge that he hath levied an army in the provinces and goeth about to make Kanmakan king, for that the kingdom was his father's and his grandfather's before him, and he will surely slay me without mercy." When they heard this, they replied, "O King, verily he (157) is unequal to this, and did we not know him to have been reared by thee, not one of us would take thought to him. We are at thy commandment; if thou wilt have us slay him, we will do so, and if thou wilt have him kept at a distance, we will chase him away." When King Sasan heard this, he said, "Verily, it were wise to slay him: but needs must ye take an oath of it." So they all pledged themselves to kill him, to the intent that, when the Vizier Dendan came and heard of his death, his might should be weakened and fail of that which he designed to do. When they had made this compact with him, the King bestowed great gifts upon them and dismissing them, retired to his own apartments. Now the troops refused their service, awaiting what should befall, for they saw that the most part of the army was with the Vizier Dendan. Presently, the news of these things came to Kuzia Fekan and caused her much concern; so that she sent for the old woman, who was wont to carry messages between her and her cousin, and bade her go to him and warn him of the plot against his life. Accordingly, she repaired to Kanmakan and gave him the princess's message, to which he replied, "Bear my cousin my salutation and say to her, 'The earth is God's (to whom belong might and majesty), and He maketh whom He willeth of His servants to inherit it. How excellent is the saying of the poet:

The kingship is God's alone, and him who would fain fulfil His wishes He driveth away and maketh him rue for his ill.
Had I or another than I a handsbreadth of earth to my own, The Godship were sundered in twain and two were the Power and the Will.'"
The old woman returned to Kuzia Fekan with Kanmakan's reply and told her that he abode in the city. Meanwhile, King Sasan awaited his going forth from Baghdad, that he might send after him and kill him; till, one day, it befell that Kanmakan went out to hunt, accompanied by Subbah, who would not leave him day or night. He caught ten gazelles and among them one that had soft black eyes and turned right and left; so he let her go, and Subbah said to him, "Why didst thou let her go?" Kanmakan laughed and set the others free also, saying, "It behoves us, of humanity, to release gazelles that have young, and this one only turned from side to side, to look for her young ones: so I let her go and released the others in her honour." Quoth Subbah, "Do thou release me, that I may go to my people." At this Kanmakan laughed and smote him on the breast with the butt of his spear, and he fell to the ground, writhing like a serpent. Whilst they were thus occupied, they saw cloud of dust and heard the tramp of horse; and presently there appeared a troop of armed cavaliers. Now King Sasan had heard of Kanmakan's going out and sending for an Amir of the Medes, called Jami, and twenty men, had given them money and bidden them slay Kanmakan. So, when they drew near the prince, they rushed at him and he met them in mid-career and killed them all, to the last man. Meanwhile the King took horse and riding out to meet his men, found them all slain, whereat he wondered and turned back; but the people of the city laid hands on him and bound him straitly. As for Kanmakan, he left that place behind him and rode onward with Subbah. As he went, he saw a youth sitting at the door of a house in his road and saluted him. The youth returned his greeting and going into the house, brought out two platters, one full of milk and the other of brewis swimming in (clarified) butter, which he set before Kanmakan, saying, "Favour me by eating of my victual." But he refused and the young man said to him, "What ails thee, O man, that thou wilt not eat?" "I have a vow upon me," replied the prince. "What is the cause of thy vow?" asked the youth, and Kanmakan answered, "Know that King Sasan seized upon my kingdom wrongfully and oppressively, albeit it was my father's and my grandfather's before me; yet he laid hands upon the throne by force, after my father's death, and took no count of me, for that I was of tender years. So I have bound myself by a vow to eat no man's victual, till I have eased my heart of my enemy." "Rejoice," rejoined the youth, "for God hath fulfilled thy vow. Know that he is in prison and methinks he will soon die." "In what house is he imprisoned?" asked Kanmakan. "In yonder high pavilion," answered the other. The prince looked and saw the folk entering and buffeting Sasan, who was suffering the agonies of death. So he went up to the pavilion and noted what was therein; after which he returned to his place and sitting down to meat, ate what sufficed him and put the rest in his budget. Then he waited till it was dark night. And the youth, whose guest he was, slept; when he rose and repaired to the pavilion in which Sasan was confined. Now about it were dogs, guarding it, and one of them ran at him; so he took out of his wallet a piece of meat and threw it to him. He ceased not to do thus, till he came to the pavilion and making his way to the place where Sasan was, laid his hand upon his head; whereupon he said in a loud voice, "Who art thou?" "I am Kanmakan," replied the prince, "whom thou wentest about to kill; but God made thee fall into the evil thyself hadst devised. Did it not suffice thee to take my kingdom and that of my father, but thou must go about to kill me?" And Sasan swore a vain oath that he had not plotted his death and that the report was untrue. So Kanmakan forgave him and said to him, "Follow me." Quoth he, "I cannot walk a single step for weakness." "If the case be thus," replied Kanmakan, "we will get us two horses and ride forth and seek the open country." So they took horse and rode till daybreak, when they prayed the morning-prayer and fared on till they came to a garden, where they sat down and talked awhile. Then Kanmakan rose and said to Sasan, "Is there aught of bitterness left in thy heart against me?" "No, by Allah!" replied Sasan. So they agreed to return to Baghdad and Subbah the Bedouin said, "I will go on before you, to give the folk notice of your coming." Then he rode on in advance, acquainting men and women with the news; so all the people came out to meet Kanmakan with tabrets and flutes; and Kuzia Fekan also came out, like the full moon shining in all her splendour in the thick darkness of the night. Kanmakan met her, and their hearts yearned each to each and their bodies longed one for the other. There was no talk among the people of the time but of Kanmakan; for the cavaliers bore witness of him that he was the most valiant of the folk of the age and said, "It is not just that other than he should be King over us; but the throne of his grandfather shall revert to him as it was." Meanwhile King Sasan went in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, who said to him, "I hear that the folk talk of nothing but Kanmakan and attribute to him such qualities as beggar description." "Hearing is not like seeing," replied the King; "I have seen him, but have noted in him not one of the attributes of perfection. Not all that is heard is said; but the folk ape one another in extolling and cherishing him, and God makes his praise to run on the lips of men, so that there incline to him the hearts of the people of Baghdad and of the perfidious traitor the Vizier Dendan, who has levied troops from all countries and arrogates to himself the right of naming a king of the country and chooses that it shall be under the hand of a worthless orphan." "What then dost thou purpose to do?" asked Nuzhet ez Zeman. "I mean to kill him," replied the King, "that the Vizier may be baulked of his intent and return to his allegiance to me, seeing nothing for it but my service." Quoth she, "Perfidy is a foul thing with strangers, and how much more with kinsfolk? Thou wouldst do better to marry him to thy daughter Kuzia Fekan and give heed to what was said of old time:

If Fate set over thee a man, though thou than he Be worthier and this be grievous unto thee,
Yield him the honour due to his estate; thou'lt find He will advantage thee, though near or far thou be.
Speak not thy thought of him; else wilt thou be of those Who of their own accord the way of weal do flee.
Many in the harem oft are brighter than the bride; But time is on her side, and opportunity."
When Sasan heard this, he rose in anger and said to her, "Were it not that to kill thee would bring disgrace and reproach on me, I would take off thy head with my sword and make an end of thee." Quoth she, "I did but jest with thee." And rose and kissed his head and hands, saying, "Thou art right, and we will cast about for some means to kill him." When he heard this, he was glad and said, "Make haste and contrive some device to relieve me of my affliction; for I am at my wit's end." Said she, "I will make shift to do away his life for thee." "How so?" asked he; and she answered, "By means of our female slave Bakoun." Now this Bakoun was past mistress in all kinds of knavery and was one of the most pernicious of old women, in whose religion it was not lawful to abstain from wickedness; she had brought up Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan, and the former had her in so great affection, that he was wont to sleep at her feet. So when King Sasan heard his wife name her, he said, "This is a good counsel," and sending for the old woman, told her what had passed and bade go about to kill Kanmakan, promising her all good. "O my lord," replied she, "thy commandment shall be done: but I would have thee give me a dagger that has been tempered in water of dearth, (158) that I may despatch him the quicklier for thee." "So be it," said Sasan and gave her a knife that would well-nigh forego destiny. Now this woman had heard stories and verses and committed to memory great store of witty traits and anecdotes: so she took the dagger and went out, considering how she should compass Kanmakan's destruction. Then she repaired to the prince, whom she found sitting awaiting [the coming of a messenger with] his cousin's tryst; so that night his thought was taken up with Kuzia Fekan and the fires of love for her raged in his heart. Bakoun went in to him, saying, "The time of union is at hand and the days of separation are over and gone." When he heard this, he said, "How is it with Kuzia Fekan?" And she answered, "Know that she is distraught for love of thee." At this he rose and taking off his [upper] clothes, put them on her and promised her all good. Then said she, "Know that I mean to pass this night with thee, that I may repeat to thee what talk I have heard and divert thee with tales of many a slave of love, whom passion hath made sick." Quoth he, "Tell me a story, that will gladden my heart and dispel my cares." "With all my heart," answered she and sitting down beside him, with the dagger under her clothes, began thus, "The pleasantest thing I ever heard was as follows: