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[FN#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[FN#144] and visited eke his
hell[FN#145] And thanked both Malik[FN#146] and
Rizwan[FN#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.'[FN#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,[FN#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?