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.