of looking at her moves, he looked at her face and set the knight
in the place of the elephant[FN#17] and the elephant in the place
of the knight. She laughed and said to him, "If this be thy play,
thou knowest nothing of the game." "This is only the first bout,"
replied he; "take no count of it." She beat him, and he replaced
the pieces and played again with her; but she beat him a second
time and a third and a fourth and a fifth. So she fumed to him
and said, "Thou art beaten in everything." "O my lady," answered
he, "how should one not be beaten, who plays with the like of
thee?" Then she called for food, and they ate and washed their
hands, after which the maids brought wine, and they drank.
Presently, the lady took the dulcimer, for she was skilled to
play thereon, and sang to it the following verses:
Fortune is still on the shift, now gladness and now woe; I liken
it to the tide, in its ceaseless ebb and flow.
So drink, if thou have the power, whilst it is yet serene, Lest
it at unawares depart, and thou not know.
They gave not over carousing till nightfall, and this day was
pleasanter than the first. When the night came, the lady went to
her sleeping-chamber, leaving Sherkan with the damsels. So he
threw himself on the ground and slept till the morning, when
the damsels came to him with tambourines and other musical
instruments, according to their wont. When he saw them, he sat
up; and they took him and carried him to their mistress, who came
to meet him and taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her
side. Then she asked him how he had passed the night, to which he
replied by wishing her long life; and she took the lute and sang
the following verses:
Incline not to parting, I pray, For bitter its taste is alway.
The sun at his setting grows pale, To think he must part from the
day.
Hardly had she made an end of singing, when there arose of a
sudden a great clamour, and a crowd of men and knights rushed
into the place, with naked swords gleaming in their hands, crying
out in the Greek tongue, "Thou hast fallen into our hands, O
Sherkan! Be sure of death!" When he heard this, he said to
himself, "By Allah, she hath laid a trap for me and held me in
play, till her men should come! These are the knights with whom
she threatened me: but it is I who have thrown myself into this
peril." Then he turned to the lady to reproach her, but saw that
she had changed colour; and she sprang to her feet and said to
the new-comers, "Who are ye?" "O noble princess and unpeered
pearl," replied the knight their chief, "dost thou know who is
this man with thee?" "Not I," answered she. "Who is he?" Quoth
the knight, "He is the despoiler of cities and prince of
cavaliers, Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. This is he who
captures the citadels and masters the most impregnable strengths.
The news of him reached King Herdoub, thy father, by the report
of the old princess Dhat ed Dewahi; and thou hast done good
service to the army of the Greeks by helping them to lay hands on
this pestilent lion." When she heard this, she looked at the
knight and said to him, "What is thy name?" And he answered, "My
name is Masoureh son of thy slave Mousoureh ben Kasherdeh, chief
of the nobles." Quoth she, "And how camest thou in to me without
my leave?" "O our lady," replied he, "when I came to the gate,
neither chamberlain nor porter offered me any hindrance; but all
the gate-keepers rose and forewent me as of wont; though, when
others come, they leave them standing at the gate, whilst they
ask leave for them to enter. But this is no time for long talk,
for the King awaits our return to him with this prince, who is
the mainstay of the army of Islam, that he may kill him and that
his troops may depart whence they came, without our having the
toil of fighting them." "Thou sayest an ill thing," rejoined the
princess. "Verily, the lady Dhat ed Dewahi lied; and she hath
avouched a vain thing, of which she knows not the truth; for by
the virtue of the Messiah, this man who is with me is not
Sherkan, nor is he a captive, but a stranger, who came to us,
seeking hospitality, and we received him as a guest. So, even
were we assured that this was Sherkan and did we know that it was
he beyond doubt, it would suit ill with my honour that I should
deliver into your hands one who hath come under my safeguard.
Betray me not, therefore, in the person of my guest, neither
bring me into ill repute among men; but return to the King my
father and kiss the earth before him and tell him that the case
is not according to the report of the lady Dhat ed Dewahi." "O
Abrizeh," replied the knight Masoureh, "I cannot go back to the
King without his enemy." Quoth she (and indeed she was angry),
"Out on thee! Return to him with the answer, and no blame shall
fall on thee." But he said, "I will not return without him." At
this her colour changed and she exclaimed, "A truce to talk and
idle words; for of a verity this man would not have come in to
us, except he were assured that he could of himself make head
against a hundred horse; and if I said to him, 'Art thou Sherkan,
son of King Omar ben Ennuman?' he would answer, 'Yes.' Nathless,
it is not in your power to hinder him; for if ye beset him, he
will not turn back from you, till he have slain all that are in
the place. Behold, he is with me and I will bring him before you,
with his sword and buckler in his hands." "If I be safe from thy
wrath," replied Masoureh, "I am not safe from that of thy father,
and when I see him, I shall sign to the knights to take him
prisoner, and we will carry him, bound and abject, to the King."
When she heard this, she said, "The thing shall not pass thus,
for it would be a disgrace. This man is but one and ye are a
hundred. So, an ye be minded to attack him, come out against him,
one after one, that it may appear to the King which is the
valiant amongst you." "By the Messiah," rejoined Masoureh, "thou
sayest sooth, and none but I shall go out against him first!"
Then she said, "Wait till I go to him and tell him and hear what
he says. If he consent, it is well but if he refuse, ye shall not
anywise come at him, for I and my damsels and all that are in the
house will be his ransom." So she went to Sherkan and told him
the case, whereat he smiled and knew that she had not betrayed
him, but that the matter had been bruited abroad, till it came to
the King, against her wish. So he laid all the blame on himself,
saying, "How came I to venture myself in the country of the
Greeks?" Then he said to her, "Indeed, to let them tilt against
me, one by one, were to lay on them a burden more than they can
bear. Will they not come out against me, ten by ten?" "That were
knavery and oppression," replied she. "One man is a match for
another." When he heard this, he sprang to his feet and made
towards them, with his sword and battle-gear; and Masoureh also
sprang up and rushed on him. Sherkan met him like a lion and
smote him with his sword upon the shoulder, that the blade came
out gleaming from his back and vitals. When the princess saw
this, Sherkan's prowess was magnified in her eyes and she knew
that she had not overthrown him by her strength, but by her
beauty and grace. So she turned to the knights and said to them,
"Avenge your chief!" Thereupon out came the slain man's brother,
a fierce warrior, and rushed upon Sherkan, who delayed not, but
smote him on the shoulders, and the sword came out, gleaming,
from his vitals. Then cried the princess, "O servants of the
Messiah, avenge your comrades!" So they ceased not to come out
against him, one by one, and he plied them with the sword, till
he had slain fifty knights, whilst the princess looked on. And
God cast terror into the hearts of those who were left, so that
they held back and dared not meet him in single combat, but
rushed on him all at once; and he drove at them with a heart
firmer than a rock and smote them as the thresher smiteth the
corn, till he had driven sense and life forth of them. Then the
princess cried out to her damsels, saying, "Who is left in the
monastery?" "None but the porters," replied they; whereupon she
went up to Sherkan and embraced him, and he returned with her to
the saloon, after he had made an end of the mellay. Now there
remained a few of the knights hidden in the cells of the convent,
and when Abrizeh saw this, she rose and going away, returned,
clad in a strait-ringed coat of mail and holding in her hand a
scimitar of Indian steel. And she said, "By the virtue of the
Messiah, I will not be grudging of myself for my guest nor will I
abandon him, though for this I abide a reproach in the land of
the Greeks!" Then she counted the dead and found that he had
slain fourscore of the knights and other twenty had taken flight.
When she saw how he had dealt with them, she said to him, "God
bless thee, O Sherkan! The cavaliers may well glory in the like
of thee!" Then he rose and wiping his sword of the blood of the
slain, repeated the following verses:
How often in battle I've cleft the array And given the champions
to wild beasts a prey!
Ask all men what happened to me and to them, When I drove through
the ranks on the sword-smiting day.
I left ail their lions of war overthrown: On the sun-scorched
sands of those countries they lay.
When he had finished, the princess came up to him and kissed his
hand; then she put off her coat of mail, and he said to her, "O
my lady, wherefore didst thou don that coat of mail and bare thy
sabre?" "It was of my care for thee against yonder wretches,"
replied she. Then she called the porters and said to them, "How
came you to let the king's men enter my house, without my leave!"
"O princess," replied they, "we have not used to need to ask
leave for the king's messengers, and especially for the chief of
the knights." Quoth she, "I think you were minded to dishonour me
and slay my guest." And she bade Sherkan strike off their heads.
He did so and she said to the rest of her servants, "Indeed, they
deserved more than that." Then turning to Sherkan, she said to
him, "Now that there hath become manifest to thee what was
hidden, I will tell thee my story. Know, then, that I am the
daughter of Herdoub, King of Roum; my name is Abrizeh and the old
woman called Dhat ed Dewahi is my grandmother, my father's
mother. She it was who told my father of thee, and she will
certainly cast about to ruin me, especially as thou hast slain my
father's men and it is noised abroad that I have made common
cause with the Muslims. Wherefore it were wiser that I should
leave dwelling here, what while Dhat ed Dewahi is behind me; but
I claim of thee the like kindness and courtesy I have shown thee,
for my father and I are now become at odds on thine account. So
do not thou omit to do aught that I shall say to thee, for indeed
all this hath fallen out through thee." At this, Sherkan was
transported for joy and his breast dilated, and he said, "By
Allah, none shall come at thee, whilst my life lasts in my body!
But canst thou endure the parting from thy father and thy folk?"
"Yes," answered she. So Sherkan swore to her and they made a
covenant of this. Then said she, "Now my heart is at ease; but
there is one other condition I must exact of thee." "What is
that?" asked Sherkan. "It is," replied she, "that thou return
with thy troops to thine own country." "O my lady," said he, "my
father, King Omar ben Ennuman, sent me to make war upon thy
father, on account of the treasure he took from the King of
Constantinople, and amongst the rest three great jewels, rich in
happy properties." "Reassure thyself," answered she; "I will tell
thee the truth of the matter and the cause of the feud between us
and the King of Constantinople. Know that we have a festival
called the Festival of the Monastery, for which each year the
kings' daughters of various countries and the wives and daughters
of the notables and merchants resort to a certain monastery and
abide there seven days. I was wont to resort thither with the
rest; but when there befell hostility between us, my father
forbade me to be present at the festival for the space of seven
years. One year, it chanced that amongst the young ladies who
resorted to the Festival as of wont, there came the King's
daughter of Constantinople, a handsome girl called Sufiyeh.
They tarried at the monastery six days, and on the seventh,
the folk went away; but Sufiyeh said, 'I will not return to
Constantinople, but by sea.' So they fitted her out a ship, in
which she embarked, she and her suite, and put out to sea; but as
they sailed, a contrary wind caught them and drove the ship from
her course, till, as fate and providence would have it, she fell
in with a ship of the Christians from the Island of Camphor, with
a crew of five hundred armed Franks, who had been cruising about
for some time. When they sighted the sails of the ship in which
were Sufiyeh and her maidens, they gave chase in all haste and
coming up with her before long, threw grapnels on board and made
fast to her. Then they made all sail for their own island and
were but a little distant from it, when the wind veered and rent
their sails and cast them on to a reef on our coast. Thereupon we
sallied forth on them, and looking on them as booty driven to us
by fate, slew the men and made prize of the ships, in which we
found the treasures and rarities in question and forty damsels,
amongst whom was Sufiyeh. We carried the damsels to my father,
not knowing that the King's daughter of Constantinople was among
them, and he chose out ten of them, including Sufiyeh, for
himself, and divided the rest among his courtiers. Then he set
apart Sufiyeh and four other girls and sent them to thy father,
King Omar ben Ennuman, together with other presents, such as
cloth and stuffs of wool and Grecian silks. Thy father accepted
them and chose out from amongst the five girls the princess
Sufiyeh, daughter of King Afridoun; nor did we hear aught more of
the matter till the beginning of this year, when King Afridoun
wrote to my father in terms which it befits not to repeat,
reproaching and menacing him and saying to him, 'Two years ago,
there fell into thy hands a ship of ours, that had been seized by
a company of Frankish corsairs and in which was my daughter
Sufiyeh, attended by near threescore damsels. Yet thou sentest
none to tell me of this and I could not make the case public,
lest disgrace fall on my repute among the kings, by reason of my
daughter's dishonour. So I kept the affair secret till this year,
when I communicated with certain of the Frankish pirates and
sought news of my daughter from the kings of the islands. They
replied, "By Allah, we carried her not forth of thy realm, but we
have heard that King Herdoub took her from certain pirates." And
they told me all that had befallen her. So now, except thou wish
to be at feud with me and design to disgrace me and dishonour my
daughter, thou wilt forthright, as soon as this letter reaches
thee, send my daughter back to me. But if thou pay no heed to my
letter and disobey my commandment, I will assuredly requite thee
thy foul dealing and the baseness of thine acts.' When my father
read this letter, it was grievous to him and he regretted not
having known that Sufiyeh, King Afridoun's daughter, was amongst
the captured damsels, that he might have sent her back to her
father; and he was perplexed about the affair, for that, after
the lapse of so long a time, he could not send to King Omar ben
Ennuman and demand her back from him, the more that he had lately
heard that God had vouchsafed him children by this very Sufiyeh.
So when we considered the matter, we knew that this letter was
none other than a great calamity; and nothing would serve but
that my father must write an answer to it, making his excuses to
King Afridoun and swearing to him that he knew not that his
daughter was among the girls in the ship and setting forth how he
had sent her to King Omar ben Ennuman and God had vouchsafed him
children by her. When my father's reply reached King Afridoun, he
rose and sat down and roared and foamed at the mouth, exclaiming,
'What! shall he make prize of my daughter and she become a
slave-girl and be passed from hand to hand and sent for a gift to
kings, and they lie with her without a contract? By the virtue of
the Messiah and the true faith, I will not desist till I have
taken my revenge for this and wiped out my disgrace, and indeed I
will do a deed that the chroniclers shall chronicle after me.' So
he took patience till he had devised a plot and laid great
snares, when he sent an embassy to thy father King Omar, to tell
him that which thou hast heard so that thy father equipped thee
and an army with thee and sent thee to him, Afridoun's object
being to lay hold of thee and thine army with thee. As for the
three jewels of which he told thy father, he spoke not the truth
of them; for they were with Sufiyeh and my father took them from
her, when she fell into his hands, she and her maidens, and gave
them to me, and they are now with me. So go thou to thy troops
and turn them back, ere they fare farther into the land of the
Franks and the country of the Greeks; for as soon as you are come
far enough into the inward of the country, they will stop the
roads upon you, and there will be no escape for you from their
hands till the day of rewards and punishments. I know that thy
troops are still where thou leftest them, because thou didst
order them to halt there three days; and they have missed thee
all this time and know not what to do." When Sherkan heard her
words, he was absent awhile in thought then he kissed Abrizeh's
hand and said, "Praise be to God who hath bestowed thee on me and
appointed thee to be the cause of my salvation and that of those
who are with me! But it is grievous to me to part from thee and I
know not what will become of thee after my departure." Quoth she,
"Go now to thy troops and lead them back, whilst ye are yet near
your own country. If the ambassadors are still with them, lay
hands on them, that the case may be made manifest to thee, and
after three days I will rejoin thee and we will all enter Baghdad
together; but forget thou not the compact between us." Then she
rose to bid him farewell and assuage the fire of longing; so she
took leave of him and embraced him and wept sore; whereupon
passion and desire were sore upon him and he also wept and
repeated the following verses:
I bade her farewell, whilst my right hand was wiping my eyes, And
still with my left, the while, I held her in close embrace.
Then, "Fearest thou not disgrace?" quoth she; and I answered,
"No. Sure, on the parting-day, for lovers there's no
disgrace!"