Chapter VII: Part 7

When Abrizah heard these words, she wept with sore weeping and said to him, "Woe to thee, O Ghazban! How dareth the like of thee to address me such demand, O base-born and obscene-bred? Dost thou deem all folk are alike?" When the vile slave heard this from her, he waxt more enraged and his eyes grew redder: and he came up to her and smiting her with the sword on her neck wounded her to the death. Then he drove her horse before him with the treasure and made off with himself to the mountains. Such was the case with Al-Ghazban; but as regards Abrizah, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Marjanah took the babe and did him the necessary offices and laid him by his mother's side; and lo and behold! the child fastened to its mother's breast and she dying.[FN#226] When Marjanah saw this, she cried out with a grievous cry and rent her raiment and cast dust on her head and buffeted her cheeks till blood flowed, saying, "Alas, my mistress! Alas, the pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black slave, after all thy knightly prowess!" And she ceased not weeping when suddenly a great cloud of dust arose and walled the horizon;[FN#227] but, after awhile, it lifted and discovered a numerous conquering host. Now this was the army of King Hardub, Princess Abrizah's father, and the cause of his coming was that when he heard of his daughter and her handmaids having fled to Baghdad, and that they were with King Omar bin al- Nu'uman, he had come forth, leading those with him, to seek tidings of her from travellers who might have seen her with the King. When he had gone a single day's march from his capital, he espied three horse men afar off and made towards them, intending to ask whence they came and seek news of his daughter. Now these three whom he saw at a distance were his daughter and Marjanah and the slave Al- Ghazban; and he made for them to push enquiry. Seeing this the villain blackamoor feared for himself; so he killed Abrizah and fled for his life. When they came up, King Hardub saw his daughter lying dead and Marjanah weeping over her, and he threw himself from his steed and fell fainting to the ground. All the riders of his company, the Emirs and Wazirs, took foot and forthright pitched their tents on the mountain and set up for the King a great pavilion, domed and circular, without which stood the grandees of the realm. When Marjanah saw her master, she at once recognized him and her tears redoubled; and, when he came to himself, he questioned her and she told him all that had passed and said, "Of a truth he that hath slain thy daughter is a black slave belonging to King Omar bin al-Nu'uman, and she informed him how Sharrkan's father had dealt with the Princess. When King Hardub heard this, the world grew black in his sight and he wept with sore weeping. Then he called for a litter and, therein laying his dead daughter, returned to Cæsarea and carried her into the palace, where he went in to his mother, Zat al-Dawahi, and said to that Lady of Calamities, "Shall the Moslems deal thus with my girl? Verily King Omar bin al-Nu'uman despoiled her of her honour by force, and after this, one of his black slaves slew her. By the truth of the Messiah, I will assuredly take blood-revenge for my daughter and clear away from mine honour the stain of shame; else will I kill myself with mine own hand!" And he wept passing sore. Quoth his mother, "None other than Marjanah killed thy daughter, for she hated her in secret;" and she continued to her son, "Fret not for taking the blood-wit of thy daughter, for, by the truth of the Messiah, I will not turn back from King Omar bin al-Nu'uman till I have slain him and his sons; and of a very truth I will do with him a deed, passing the power of Sage and Knight, whereof the chroniclers shall tell chronicles in all countries and in every place: but needs must thou do my bidding in all I shall direct, for whoso be firmly set on the object of his desire shall surely compass his desire." "By the virtue of the Messiah," replied he, "I will not cross thee in aught thou shalt say." Then quoth she, "Bring me a number of handmaids, high-bosomed virgins, and summon the wise men of the age and let them teach them philosophy and the rules of behaviour before Kings, and the art of conversation and making verses; and let them talk with them of all manner science and edifying knowledge. And the sages must be Moslems, that they may teach them the language and traditions of the Arabs, together with the history of the Caliphs and the ancient annals of the Kings of Al-Islam; and if we persevere in this for four years' space, we shall gain our case. So possess thy soul in patience and wait; for one of the Arabs saith, 'If we take man-bote after years forty the time were short to ye.' When we have taught the girls these things, we shall be able to work our will with our foe, for he doteth on women and he hath three hundred and sixty concubines, whereto are now added an hundred of the flowers of thy handmaidens who were with thy daughter, she that hath found mercy.[FN#228] As soon as I have made an end of their education, as described to thee, I will take them; and set out with them in person." When King Hardub heard his mother's words, he rejoiced and arose and kissed her head; and at once despatched messengers and couriers to lands sundry and manifold to fetch him Moslem sages. They obeyed his commands and fared to far countries and thence brought him the sages and the doctors he sought. When these came into presence, he honoured them with notable honours and bestowed dresses on them and appointed to them stipends and allowances and promised them much money whenas they should have taught the damsels. Then he committed the handmaidens to their hands—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-third Night.

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the sages and the doctors stood in presence of King Hardub, he honoured them with notable honours and committed the handmaidens to their hands, enjoining that these be instructed in all manner of knowledge, philosophy and polite accomplishments; and they set themselves to do his bidding. Such was the case with King Hardub; but as for King Omar bin al Nu'uman, when he returned from coursing and hunting and entered his palace, he sought Princess Abrizah but found her not, nor any one knew of her nor could any give him news of her. This was grievous to him and he said, "How could the lady leave the palace unknown of any? Had my kingdom been at stake in this case, it were in perilous condition there being none to govern it! I will never again go to sport and hunt till I have stationed at the gates those who shall keep good guard over them!" And he was sore vexed and his breast was straitened for the loss of Princess Abrizah. Hereupon behold, his son Sharrkan returned from his journey; and the father told him what had happened, and informed him how the lady had fled, whilst he was chasing and hunting, whereat he grieved with exceeding grief. Then King Omar took to visiting his children every day and making much of them; and brought them learned men and doctors to teach them, appointing for them stipends. When Sharrkan saw this, he raged with exceeding rage and envied thereupon his brother and sister till the signs of chagrin appeared in his face and he ceased not to languish by reason of this matter: so one day his father said to him, "Why do I see thee grown weak in body and yellow of face?" "O my father," replied Sharrkan, "every time I see thee fondle my brother and sister and make much of them, jealousy seizeth on me, and I fear lest it grow on me till I slay them; and thou slay me in return. And this is the reason of my weakness of body and change of complexion. But now I crave of thy favour that thou give me one of thy castles outlying the rest, that I may abide there the remnant of my life, for as the sayer of bywords saith, 'Absence from my friend is better and fitter for me'; and, 'Whatso eye doth not perceive, that garreth not heart to grieve.'" And he bowed his head towards the ground. When King Omar bin al-Nu'uman heard his words and knew the cause of his ailment and of his being broken down, he soothed his heart and said to him, "O my son, I grant thee this and I have not in my reign a greater than the Castle of Damascus, and the government of it is thine from this time." Thereupon he forthright summoned his secretaries of state and bade them write Sharrkan's patent of investiture to the viceroyalty of Damascus of Syria. And when they had written it, he equipped him and sent with him the Wazir Dandan, and invested him with the rule and government and gave him instructions as to policy and regulations; and took leave of him, and the grandees and officers of state did likewise, and he set out with his host. When he arrived at Damascus, the townspeople beat the drums and blew the trumpets and decorated the city and came out to meet him in great state; whilst all the notables and grandees paced in procession, and those who stood to the right of the throne walked on his right flank, and the others to the left. Thus far concerning Sharrkan; but as regards his father, Omar bin al- Nu'uman, soon after the departure of his son, the children's tutors and governors presented themselves before him and said to him, "O our lord, thy children have now learnt knowledge and they are completely versed in the rules of manners and the etiquette of ceremony." The King rejoiced thereat with exceeding joy and conferred bountiful largesse upon the learned men, seeing Zau al- Makan grown up and flourishing and skilled in horsemanship. This Prince had reached the age of fourteen and he occupied himself with piety and prayers, loving the poor, the Olema and the Koran-students, so that all the people of Baghdad loved him, men and women. One day, the procession of the Mahmil[FN#229] of Irák passed round Baghdad before its departure for the pilgrimage to Meccah and visitation of the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and preserve!). When Zau al-Makan saw the Mahmil procession he was seized with longing desire to become a pilgrim,[FN#230] so he went in to his sire and said, "I come to ask thy leave to make the pilgrimage." But his father forbade him saying, "Wait till next year and I will go and thou too." When the Prince saw that the matter was postponed, he betook himself to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman, whom he found standing at prayer. As soon as she had ended her devotions he said to her, "I am dying with desire of pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah at Meccah and to visit the tomb of the Prophet, upon whom be peace! I asked my father's leave, but he forbade me that, so I mean to take privily somewhat of money and set out on the pilgrimage without his knowledge." "Allah upon thee," exclaimed she, "take me with thee and deprive me not of visitation to the tomb of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and keep!" And he answered, "As soon as it is dark night, do thou come forth from this place, without telling any." Accordingly, when it was the middle of the night she arose and took somewhat of money and donned a man's habit; and she ceased not walking to the palace-gate, where she found Zau al-Makan with camels ready for marching. So he mounted and mounted her; and the two fared on till they were in the midst of the Iraki[FN#231] pilgrim-party, and they ceased not marching and Allah wrote safety for them, till they entered Meccah the Holy and stood upon Arafát and performed the pilgrimage-rites. Then they made a visitation to the tomb of the Prophet (whom Allah bless and assain!) and thought to return with the pilgrims to their native land. But Zau al-Makan said to his sister, "O my sister, it is in my mind to visit the Holy House,[FN#232] Jerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of Allah[FN#233] (on whom be peace!)." "I also desire so to do," replied she. So they agreed upon this and he fared forth and took passage for himself and her and they made ready and set out in the ship with a company of Jerusalem palmers. That very night the sister fell sick of an aguish chill, and was grievously ill but presently recovered, after which the brother also sickened. She tended him during his malady and they ceased not wayfaring till they arrived at Jerusalem, but the fever increased on him and he grew weaker and weaker. They alighted at a Khan and there hired a lodging; but Zau al- Makan's sickness ceased not to increase on him, till he was wasted with leanness and became delirious. At this, his sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! This is the decree of Allah!" They sojourned in that place awhile, his weakness ever increasing and she attending him and buying necessaries for him and for herself, till all the money she had was expended and she became so poor that she had not so much as a dirham left. Then she sent a servant of the Khan to the bazar with some of her clothes, and he sold them; and she spent the price upon her brother; then sold she something more and she ceased not selling all she had, piece by piece, till nothing was left but an old rug. Whereupon she wept and exclaimed, "Verily is Allah the Orderer of the past and the future!" Presently her brother said to her, "O my sister, I feel recovery drawing near and my heart longeth for a little roast meat." "By Allah! O my brother," replied she, "I have no face to beg; but To-morrow I will enter some rich man's house and serve him and earn somewhat for our living." Then she bethought herself awhile and said, "Of a truth 'tis hard for me to leave thee and thou in this state, but I must despite myself!" He rejoined, "Allah forbid! Thou wilt be put to shame; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!" And he wept and she wept too. Then she said, "O my brother, we are strangers who have dwelt here a full year, but none hath yet knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no resource but that I go out and do service and earn somewhat to keep us alive, till thou recover from thy sickness, when we will travel back to our native land." She sat weeping awhile and he wept too, propped upon his elbow. Then Nuzhat al-Zaman arose and, veiling her head with a bit of camlet,[FN#234] which had been of the cameleer's clothes and which the owner had forgotten and left with them; she kissed the head of her brother and embraced him and went forth from him, weeping and knowing not whither she should wend. And she stinted not going and her brother Zau al-Makan awaiting her return till the supper-time; but she came not, and he watched for her till the morning morrowed but still she returned not; and this endured till two days went by. He was greatly troubled thereat and his heart fluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left the chamber and, calling the servant of the caravanserai, said, "I wish thee to bear me to the bazar." So he carried him to the market-street and laid him down there; and the people of Jerusalem gathered round him and were moved to tears seeing his condition. He signed to them begging for somewhat to eat; so they brought him some money from certain of the merchants who were in the bazar, and bought food and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a shop, where they spread him a mat of palm-leaves and set an ewer of water at his head. When night fell, all the folk went away, sore concerned for him and, in the middle of the night, he called to mind his sister and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he abstained from eating and drinking and became insensible to the world around him. Then the bazar-people arose and took for him from the merchants thirty-seven dirhams, and hiring a camel, said to the driver, "Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him in the hospital; haply he may be cured and recover health." "On my head be it!" replied the camel-man; but he said to himself, "How shall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?" So he carried him away to a place and hid with him till the night, when he threw him down on the ash-heap near the fire-hole of a Hammam and went his way. When morning dawned the Stoker[FN#235] of the bath came to his work and, finding Zau al-Makan cast on his back, exclaimed, "Why did they not throw their dead body any where but here?" So saying, he gave him a kick and he moved; whereupon quoth the Fireman, "Some one of you who hath eaten a bit of Hashish and hath thrown himself down in whatso place it be!" Then he looked at his face and saw his hairless cheeks and his grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that he was sick and a stranger in the land. And he cried, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah! verily, I have sinned against this youth, for indeed the Prophet (whom Allah bless and keep!) enjoineth honour to the stranger, more especially when the stranger is sick." Then he carried him home and went in with him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she spread him a sleeping-rug and set a cushion under his head, then warmed water for him and washed therewith his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the Stoker went to the market and bought some rose-water and sugar, and sprinkled Zau al-Makan's face with the water and gave him to drink of the sherbet. Then he fetched a clean shirt and put it on him. With this, Zau al-Makan sniffed the zephyr of health and recovery returned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. Hereat the Fireman rejoiced and exclaimed, "Praise be to Allah for the welfare of this youth! O Allah, I beseech Thee by Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make the salvation of this youth to be at my hands!"—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-fourth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fireman exclaimed, "O Allah, I beseech Thee of Thy knowledge of hidden things, that Thou make this young man's life the work of my hands!" And he ceased not to nurse him for three days, giving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow-flower water and rose-water; and doing him all manner of service and kindness, till health began to return to his body and Zau al-Makan opened his eyes. Presently came in the Fireman and, seeing him sitting up and showing signs of amendment, said to him, "What is now thy state, O my son?" "Praise be to Allah," replied Zau al-Makan, "I am well and like to recover, if such be the will of Allah Almighty at this time." The Stoker praised the Lord of All for this and, wending fast to the market, bought ten chickens, which he carried to his wife and said, "Kill two of these for him every day, one at dawn of day and the other at fall of day." So she rose up and killed a fowl and brought it to him boiled, and fed him with the flesh and made him drink its broth. When he had done eating, she fetched hot water and he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow, whereupon she covered him up with the coverlet, and he slept till the time of the mid-afternoon prayer. Then she arose and killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut it up and, bringing it to Zau al-Makan, said, "Eat, O my son!" While he was eating; behold, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat down at his head and said to him, "How is it with thee now, O my son?" "Thanks be to Allah for recovery!" he replied: "may the Almighty requite thee thy kindness to me." At this the Fireman rejoiced and going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose-water and made him drink it. Now the Stoker used to work at the Hammam all day for a wage of five dirhams, whereof he spent every day, for Zau al-Makan, one dirham upon sugar and sherbet of rose-water and willow-flower water,[FN#236] and another dirham for fowls; and he ceased not to entreat him thus kindly during a whole month, till the traces of illness ceased from him and he was once more sound and whole. Thereupon the Fireman and his wife rejoiced and asked him, "O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?"; whereto he answered, "Yes!" So the Stoker went to the bazar and fetched a donkey-boy, and he mounted Zau al-Makan on the ass and supported him in the saddle till they came to the bath. Then he made him sit down and seated the donkey-boy in the furnace-room and went forth to the market and bought lote-leaves and lupin-flour,[FN#237] with which he returned to the bath and said to Zau al-Makan, "O my master, in Allah's name, walk in and I will wash thy body." So they entered the inner room of the bath, and the Fireman took to rubbing Zau al-Makan's legs and began to wash his body with the leaves and meal, when there came to them a bathman, whom the bath-keeper had sent to Zau al-Makan; and he, seeing the Stoker washing and rubbing him, said, "This is doing injury to the keeper's rights." Replied the Fireman, "The master overwhelmeth us with his favours!" Then the bathman proceeded to shave Zau al-Makan's head, after which he and the Stoker washed themselves and returned to the house, where he clad Zau al-Makan in a shirt of fine stuff and a robe of his own; and gave him a handsome turband and girdle and a light kerchief which he wound about his neck. Meanwhile the Fireman's wife had killed and cooked two chickens; so, as soon as Zau al-Makan entered and seated himself on the carpet, the husband arose and, dissolving sugar in willow-flower water, made him drink of it. Then he brought the food-tray and, cutting up the chickens, fed him with the flesh and gave him the broth to drink till he was satisfied; when he washed his hands and praised Allah for recovery, and said to the Fireman, "Thou art he whom the Almighty vouchsafed to me and made the cause of my cure!" "Leave this talk," replied the other, "and tell us the cause of thy coming to this city and whence thou art. Thy face showeth signs of gentle breeding." "Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me," said Zau al-Makan; "and after I will tell thee my story." Rejoined the Fireman, "As for that, I found thee lying on the rubbish-heap by the door of the fire-house, as I went to my work near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee there. So I carried thee home with me; and this is all my tale." Quoth Zau al-Makan, "Glory to Him who quickeneth the bones, though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done good save to one worthy of it, and thou shalt presently gather its fruitage." And he added, "But where am I now?" "Thou art in the city of Jerusalem," replied the Stoker; whereupon Zau al-Makan called to mind his strangerhood and remembered his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered his secret to the Fireman and told him his story and began repeating,

"In love they bore me further than my force would go, * And for them made me suffer resurrection-throe: Oh, have compassion, cruel! on this soul of mine * Which, since ye fared, is pitied by each envious foe; Nor grudge the tender mercy of one passing glance * My case to lighten, easing this excess of woe: Quoth I 'Heart, bear this loss in patience!' Patience cried * 'Take heed! no patience in such plight I'm wont to show.' "

Then he redoubled his weeping, and the Fireman said to him, "Weep not, but rather praise Allah for safety and recovery." Asked Zau al-Makan, "How far is it hence to Damascus?" Answered the other, "Six days' journey." Then quoth Zau al-Makan, "Wilt thou send me thither?" "O my lord," quoth the Stoker, "how can I allow thee to go alone, and thou a youth and a stranger to boot? If thou would journey to Damascus, I am one who will go with thee; and if my wife will listen to and obey me and accompany me, I will take up my abode there; for it is no light matter to part with thee." Then said he to his wife, "Wilt thou travel with me to Damascus of Syria or wilt thou abide here, whilst I lead this my lord thither and return to thee? For he is bent upon going to Damascus of Syria and, by Allah, it is hard to me to part with him, and I fear for him from highway men." Replied she, "I will go with you both;" and he rejoined, "Praised be Allah for accord, and we have said the last word!" Then he rose and selling all his own goods and his wife's gear,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say,

When it was the Fifty-fifth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Fire man and his wife agreed with Zau al-Makan to travel with him Damascus wards. Then the Stoker sold his goods and his wife's gear and bought a camel and hired an ass for Zau al-Makan; and they set out, and ceased not wayfaring for six days till they reached Damascus. And they arrived there towards eventide; when the Fireman went forth and, as was his wont, bought some meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in Damascus, when his wife sickened and, after a short illness, was translated to the mercy of Almighty Allah. Her death was a heavy matter to Zau al-Makan, for he was grown used to her as she had tended him assiduously; and the Fireman grieved for her with excessive grief. Presently the Prince turned to the Stoker and finding him mourning, said to him, "Grieve not, for at this gate we must all go in." Replied he, "Allah make weal thy lot, O my son! Surely He will compensate us with His favours and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my son, about our walking abroad to view Damascus and cheer thy spirits?" Replied Zau al-Makan, "Thy will is mine." So the Fireman arose and placed his hand in that of Zau al- Makan and the two walked on till they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs, and horses ready saddled and Bactrian dromedaries, while Mamelukes and negro slaves and folk in a hubbub were running to and fro. Quoth Zau al-Makan, "I wonder to whom belong all these chattels and camels and stuffs!" So he asked one of the eunuchs, "Whither this dispatching?'' and he answered, "These are presents sent by the Emir of Damascus to King Omar bin al-Nu'uman, with the tribute of Syria." Now when Zau al-Makan heard his father's name his eyes brimmed over with tears, and he began repeating,

"Oh ye gone from the gaze of these ridded eyne, * Ye whose sight in my spirit shall ever dwell! Your charms are gone, but this heart of me * Hath no sweet, and no pleasures its sour dispel; If Allah's grace make us meet again, * In long drawn love-tale my love I'll tell."

And when he had ended his verse, he wept and the Fireman said to him, "O my son, we hardly believed that thy health had returned;[FN#238] so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a relapse for thee." And he ceased not comforting and cheering him, whilst Zau al-Makan sighed and moaned over his strangerhood and separation from his sister and his family; and tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these couplets,

"Get thee provaunt in this world ere thou wend upon thy way, * And know how surely Death descends thy life lot to waylay: All thy worldly goods are pride and the painfullest repine; * All thy worldly life is vexing, of thy soul in vain display: Say is not worldly wone like a wanderer's place of rest, * Where at night he 'nakhs'[FN#239] his camels and moves off at dawn of day?"

And he continued to weep and wail over his separation; whilst the Fireman also bewept the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zau al-Makan till morning dawned. When the sun rose, he said to him, "Meseemeth thou yearnest for thy native land?" "Yes," replied Zau al-Makan, "and I can no longer tarry here; so I will commend thee to Allah's care and set out with these folk and journey with them, little by little, till I come to my mother land." Said the Stoker, "And I with thee; for of a truth I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee kindly service and I mean to complete it by tending thee on thy travel." At this, Zau al-Makan rejoiced and said, "Allah abundantly requite thee for me!" and was pleased with the idea of their travelling together. The Fireman at once went forth and bought another ass, selling the camel; and laid in his provaunt and said to Zau al-Makan, "This is for thee to ride by the way; and, when thou art weary of riding, thou canst dismount and walk." Said Zau al-Makan, "May Allah bless thee and aid me to requite thee! for verily thou hast dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother." Then he waited till it was dark night, when he laid the provisions and baggage on that ass and set forth upon their journey. This much befel Zau al-Makan and the Fireman; but as regards what happened to his sister Nuzhat al-Zaman, when she left her brother in the Khan where they abode and, wrapped in the old camlet, went out to seek service with some one, that she might earn wherewithal to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was occupied with thoughts of her brother and of her family and her native land. So she implored Allah Almighty to do away with these calamities from them; and began versifying,

"Dark falls the night and Passion comes sore pains to gar me dree, * And pine upstirs those ceaseless pangs which work my tormentry, And cease not separation flames my vitals to consume, * And drives me on destruction way this sorrow's ecstacy And longing breeds me restlessness; desire for ever fires, * And tears to all proclaim what I would keep in secrecy No cunning shift is known to me a meeting to secure, * That I may quit this sickly state, may cure my malady: The love which blazeth in my heart is fed with fancy fuel, * The lover from its hell of fire must bear Hell's agony![FN#240] O thou who blamest me for all befel me, 'tis enough, * Patient I bear what ever wrote the Reed of Doom for me: By Love I swear I'll never be consoled, no, never more; * I swear the oath of Love's own slaves who know no perjury: O Night, to chroniclers of Love the news of me declare; * That sleep hath fed mine eyelids of thy knowledge witness bear!"

Then she walked on, weeping and turning right and left as she went, when behold, there espied her an old Badawi[FN#241] who had come into the town from the desert with wild Arabs other five. The old man took note of her and saw that she was lovely, but she had nothing on her head save a piece of camlet, and, marvelling at her beauty, he said to himself, "This charmer dazzleth men's wits but she is in squalid condition, and whether she be of the people of this city or she be a stranger, I needs must have her." So he followed her, little by little, till he met her face to face and stopped the way before her in a narrow lane, and called out to her, asking her case, and said, "Tell me, O my little daughter! art thou a free woman or a slave?" When she heard this, she said to him, "By thy life, do not add to my sorrows!" Quoth he, "Allah hath blessed me with six daughters, of whom five died and only one is left me, the youngest of all; and I came to ask thee if thou be of the folk of this city or a stranger; that I might take thee and carry thee to her, to bear her company so as to divert her from pining for her sisters. If thou have no kith and kin, I will make thee as one of them; and thou and she shall be as my two children." Nuzhat al-Zaman bowed her head in bashfulness when she heard what he said and communed with herself, "Haply I may trust myself to this old man." Then she said to him, "O nuncle, I am a maiden of the Arabs and a stranger and I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy daughter on one condition, which is, that I may spend only the day with her and at night may return to my brother. If thou strike this bargain I will fare with thee, for I am a stranger and I was high in honour among my tribe, and I awoke one morning to find myself vile and abject. I came with my brother from the land of Al-Hijaz and I fearless he know not where I am." When the Badawi heard this, he said to himself, "By Allah, I have got my desire!" Then he turned to her and replied, "There shall none be dearer to me than thou; I wish thee only to bear my daughter company by day and thou shalt go to thy brother at earliest nightfall. Or, if thou wilt, bring him over to dwell with us." And the Badawi ceased not to console her heart and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve him. Then he walked on before her and, when she followed him, he winked to his men to go in advance and harness the dromedaries and load them with their packs and place upon them water and provisions, ready for setting out as soon as he should come up with the camels. Now this Badawi was a base born churl, a highway thief and a traitor to the friend he held most fief, a rogue in grain, past master of plots and chicane. He had no daughter and no son and was only passing through the town when, by the decree of the Decreer, he fell in with this unhappy one. And he ceased not to hold her in converse on the highway till they came without the city of Jerusalem and, when outside, he joined his companions and found they had made ready the dromedaries. So the Badawi mounted a camel, having seated Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him and they rode on all night. Then she knew that the Badawi's proposal was a snare and that he had tricked her; and she continued weeping and crying out the whole night long, while they journeyed on making for the mountains, in fear any should see them. Now when it was near dawn, they dismounted from their dromedaries and the Badawi came up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and said to her, "O city strumpet, what is this weeping? By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I will beat thee to death, O thou town filth!" When she heard this she loathed life and longed for death; so she turned to him and said, "O accursed old man, O gray beard of hell, how have I trusted thee and thou hast played me false, and now thou wouldst torture me?" When he heard her reply he cried out, "O lazy baggage, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?" And he stood up to her and beat her with a whip, saying, "An thou hold not thy peace, I will kill thee!" So she was silent awhile, then she called to mind her brother and the happy estate she had been in and she shed tears secretly. Next day, she turned to the Badawi and said to him, "How couldst thou play me this trick and lure me into these bald and stony mountains, and what is thy design with me?" When he heard her words he hardened his heart and said to her, "O lazy baggage of ill omen and insolent! wilt thou bandy words with me?" and he took the whip and came down with it on her back till she felt faint. Then she bowed down over his feet and kissed[FN#242] them; and he left beating her and began reviling her and said, "By the rights of my bonnet,[FN#243] if I see or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and stuff it up thy coynte, O thou city filth!" So she was silent and made him no reply, for the beating pained her; but sat down with her arms round her knees and, bowing her head upon her collar, began to look into her case and her abasement after her lot of high honour; and the beating she had endured; and she called to mind her brother and his sickness and forlorn condition, and how they were both strangers in a far country, which drave her tears down her cheeks and she wept silently and began repeating,

"Time hath for his wont to upraise and debase, * Nor is lasting condition for human race: In this world each thing hath appointed turn; * Nor may man transgress his determined place: How long these perils and woes? Ah woe * For a life, all woeful in parlous case! Allah bless not the days which have laid me low * I' the world, with disgrace after so much grace! My wish is baffled, my hopes cast down, * And distance forbids me to greet his face: O thou who passeth that dear one's door, * Say for me, these tears shall flow evermore!"

When she had finished her verses, the Badawi came up to her and, taking compassion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears. Then he gave her a barley scone and said, "I love not one who answereth at times when I am in wrath: so henceforth give me no more of these impertinent words and I will sell thee to a good man like myself, who will do well with thee, even as I have done." "Yes; whatso thou doest is right," answered she; and when the night was longsome upon her and hunger burnt her, she ate very little of that barley bread. In the middle of the night the Badawi gave orders for departure,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-sixth Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Badawi gave the barley scone to Nuzhat al-Zaman and promised he would sell her to a good man like himself, she replied, "Whatso thou doest is right!" and, about midnight when hunger burned her,[FN#244] she ate a very little of that barley bread and the Badawi ordered his party to set out; so they loaded their loads and he mounted a camel setting Nuzhat al-Zaman behind him. Then they journeyed and ceased not journeying for three days, till they entered the city of Damascus and alighted at the Sultan's Khan, hard by the Viceroy's Gate. Now she had lost her colour by grief and the fatigue of such travelling, and she ceased not to weep over her misfortunes. So the Badawi came up to her and said, "O thou city filth, by the right of my bonnet, if thou leave not this weeping, I will sell thee to none but a Jew!" Then he arose and took her by the hand and carried her to a chamber, and walked off to the bazar, and he went round to, the merchants who dealt in slave-girls, and began to parley with them, saying, "I have brought a slave girl whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my people about Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he is cured. As for her I want to sell her, but after the dog her brother fell sick, the separation from him was grievous to her, and since then she doth nothing but weep, and now I wish that whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her and say, 'Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem ill'; and I will be easy with him about her price." Then one of the merchants came up to him and asked, "How old is she?" He answered "She is a virgin, just come to marriageable age, and she is endowed with sense and breeding and wit and beauty and loveliness. But from the day I sent her brother to Jerusalem, her heart hath been yearning for him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value lessened." Now when the merchant heard this, he set forth with the Badawi and said, "O Shaykh[FN#245] of the Arabs, I will go with thee and buy of thee this girl whom thou praisest so highly for wit and manners and beauty and loveliness; and I will pay thee her price but it must be upon conditions which if thou accept, I will give thee ready money, and if thou accept not I will return her to thee." Quoth the Badawi, "An thou wilt, take her up to the Sultan Sharrkan, son of Omar bin al-Nu'uman lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorasan, and condition me any conditions thou likest, for when thou hast brought her before King Sharrkan, haply she will please him, and he will pay thee her price and a good profit for thyself to boot." Rejoined the merchant, "It happens that I have just now something to ask from him, and it is this that he write me an order upon the office, exempting me from custom dues and also that he write me a letter of recommendation to his father, King Omar bin al-Nu'uman. So if he take the girl, I will weigh[FN#246] thee out her price at once." "I agree with thee to this condition," answered the Badawi. So they returned together to the place where Nuzhat al-Zaman was and the wild Arab stood at the chamber door and called out, saying, "O Nájiyah[FN#247]!" which was the name wherewith he had named her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "There she sitteth; go to her and look at her and speak to her kindly as I enjoined thee." So the trader went up to her in courteous wise and saw that she was wondrous beautiful and loveable, especially as she knew the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Badawi, "If she be even as thou saddest, I shall get of the Sultan what I will for her." Then he bespake her, "Peace be on thee, my little maid! How art thou?" She turned to him and replied, "This also was registered in the Book of Destiny." Then she looked at him and, seeing him to be a man of respectable semblance with a handsome face, she said to herself, "I believe this one cometh to buy me;" and she continued, "If I hold aloof from him, I shall abide with my tyrant and he will do me to death with beating. In any case, this person is handsome of face and maketh me hope for better treatment from him than from my brute of a Badawi. May be he cometh only to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair answer." All this while her eyes were fixed on the ground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice, "And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and Allah's mercy and His benediction![FN#248] This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom Allah bless and preserve! As for thine enquiry how I am, if thou wouldst know my case, it is such as thou wouldst not wish but to thy foe." And she held her peace. When the merchant heard what she said, his fancy took wings for delight in her and, turning to the Badawi, he asked him, "What is her price, for indeed she is noble?" Thereupon the Badawi waxed angry and answered, "Thou wilt turn me the girl's head with this talk! Why dost thou say that she is noble,[FN#249] while she is of the scum of slave-girls and of the refuse of folk? I will not sell her to thee!" When the merchant heard this, he knew the man to be weak of wits and said to him, "Calm thyself, for I will buy her of thee with these blemishes thou mentionest." "And how much wilt thou give me for her?" enquired the Badawi. Replied the merchant, "Name thy price for her: none should name the son save his sire." Rejoined the Badawi, "None shall name it but thou thyself." Quoth the merchant to himself, "This wildling is a rudesby and a maggotty head. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she hath won my heart with her fair speech and good looks; and, if she can read and write, it will be complete fair luck to her and to her purchaser. But this Badawi does not know her worth." Then he turned and said to him, "O Shaykh of the Arabs, I will give thee in ready money, clear of the tax and the Sultan's dues, two hundred gold pieces." Now when the Badawi heard this, he flew into a violent rage and cried at the merchant, saying, "Get up and go thy ways! By Allah, wert thou to offer me two hundred dinars for the bit of camlet she weareth, I would not sell it to thee. And now I will not sell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and grind my grist." And he cried out to her, saying, "Come here, thou stinkard! I will not sell thee." Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "I used to think thee a man of judgment; but, by the right of my bonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what shall not please thee!" Quoth the merchant to himself, "Of a truth this Badawi is mad and knoweth not her value, and I will say no more to him about her price at the present time; for by Allah, were he a man of sense, he would not say, 'By the rights of my bonnet!' By the Almighty, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroës and I have not her price by me, but if he ask even more, I will give him what he will, though it be all my goods." Then he turned and said to him, "O Shaykh of the Arabs, take patience and calm thyself and tell me what clothes she hath with thee?" Cried the Badawi, "And what hath the baggage to do with clothes? By Allah, this camlet in which she is wrapped is ample for her." "With thy leave," said the merchant, "I will unveil her face and examine her even as folk examine slave-girls whom they think of buying."[FN#250] Replied the other, "Up and do what thou wilt and Allah keep thy youth! Examine her outside and inside and, if thou wilt, strip off her clothes and look at her when she is naked." Quoth the trader, "Allah forfend! I will look at naught save her face."[FN#251] Then he went up to her and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness,—And Shahrazed perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.

When it was the Fifty-seventh Night,

She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the merchant went up to Nuzhat al-Zaman and was put to shame by her beauty and loveliness, so he sat by her side and asked her, "O my mistress, what is thy name?" She answered, "Doss thou ask what is my name this day or what it was before this day?" Thereupon the merchant enquired, "Hast thou then two names: to-day's and yesterday's?" "Yes," replied she, "my name in the past was Nuzhat al-Zaman, the Delight of the Age; but my name at this present is Ghussat[FN#252] al-Zaman, the Despight of the Age." When the merchant heard this his eyes brimmed over with tears and quoth he to her, "Hast thou not a sick brother?" "Ay by Allah, O my lord, I have," quoth she, "but fortune hath parted me and him and he lieth sick in Jerusalem." The merchant's head was confounded at the sweetness of her speech and he said to himself, "Verily, the Badawi spake the truth of her." Then she called to mind her brother and his sickness and his strangerhood and her separation from him in his hour of weakness and her not knowing what had befallen him; and she thought of all that had happened to her with the Badawi and of her severance from her mother and father and native land; and the tears coursed down her cheeks and fast as they started they dropped; and she began reciting,

"Allah, where'er thou be, His aid impart * To thee, who distant dwellest in my heart! Allah be near thee how so far thou fare; * Ward off all shifts of Time, all dangers thwart! Mine eyes are desolate for thy vanisht sight, * And start my tears-ah me, how fast they start! Would Heaven I kenned what quarter or what land * Homes thee, and in what house and tribe thou art An fount of life thou drain in greenth of rose, * While drink I tear drops for my sole desert? An thou 'joy slumber in those hours, when I * Peel 'twixt my side and couch coals' burning smart? All things were easy save to part from thee, * For my sad heart this grief is hard to dree."