and there they lay four whole years, till they yearned after
their native land and the troops murmured, being weary of siege
and vigil and stress of war by night and by day. Then King
Zoulmekan summoned Rustem and Behram and Terkash and bespoke them
thus, "Know that all these years we have lain here and have not
come by our intent and have gotten us but increase of trouble and
concern; for indeed we came, thinking to take our wreak for King
Omar ben Ennuman and behold, my brother Sherkan was slain; so is
our sorrow grown two sorrows and our affliction two afflictions.
All this came of the old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, for it was she who
slew the Sultan in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the
Princess Sufiyeh; nor did this suffice her, but she must put
another cheat on us and slay my brother Sherkan: and indeed I
have bound myself and sworn by the most solemn oaths to avenge
them of her. What say ye? Ponder my words and answer me." With
this, they bowed their heads and answered, "It is for the Vizier
Dendan to decide." So the Vizier came forward and said, "O King
of the age, it avails us nothing to tarry here, and it is my
counsel that we strike camp and return to our own country, there
to abide awhile and after return and fall upon the worshippers of
idols." "This is a good counsel," replied the King; "for indeed
the folk weary for a sight of their families, and I also am
troubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother's
daughter Kuzia Fekan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how
it is with her." So he bade the herald call the retreat after
three days, whereupon the troops rejoiced and blessed the Vizier
Dendan. Then they fell to preparing for the homeward march and on
the fourth day, they beat the drums and unfurled the banners and
the army set forth, the Vizier in the van and the King riding in
the mid-battle, with the Great Chamberlain by his side, and
journeyed night and day, till they reached Baghdad. The folk
rejoiced in their return, and care and hardship ceased from them,
whilst those who had stayed at home came forth to meet those who
had been so long absent and each amir betook him to his own
house. As for Zoulmekan, he went up to the palace and went into
his son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven and used
to go down [into the tilting-ground] and ride. As soon as the
King was rested of his journey, he entered the bath with his son,
and returning, seated himself on his chair of estate, whilst the
Vizier Dendan took up his station before him and the amirs and
grandees of the realm entered and stood in attendance upon him.
Then he called for his comrade the stoker, who had befriended him
in his strangerhood; and when he came, the King rose to do him
honour and made him sit by his own side. Now he had acquainted
the Vizier with all the kindness and fair service that the stoker
had done him; so the Vizier and all the amirs made much of him.
The stoker had waxed fat and burly with rest and good living, so
that his neck was like an elephant's neck and his face like a
porpoise's belly. Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he
had never stirred from his place; so at the first he knew not the
King by his aspect. But Zoulmekan came up to him smilingly and
saluted him after the friendliest fashion, saying, "How hast thou
made haste to forget me!" So the stoker roused himself and
looking steadfastly on Zoulmekan knew him: whereupon he sprang to
his feet and exclaimed. "O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?"
Zoulmekan laughed at him and the Vizier, coming up to him,
expounded the whole story to him and said, "He was thy brother
and thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs must
thou get great good of him. So I counsel thee, if he say to thee,
'Ask a boon of me,' ask not but for some great thing; for thou
art very dear to him." Quoth the stoker, "I fear lest, if I ask
of him aught, he may not choose to grant it or may not be able
thereto." "Have no care," answered the Vizier; "whatsoever thou
asketh, he will give thee." "By Allah," rejoined the stoker, "I
must ask of him a thing that is in my thought! Every night I
dream of it and implore God to vouchsafe it to me." "Take heart,"
said the Vizier. "By Allah, if thou askedst of him the government
of Damascus, in the room of his brother he would surely give it
thee." With this, the stoker rose to his feet and Zoulmekan
signed to him to sit; but he refused, saying, "God forfend! The
days are gone by of my sitting in thy presence." "Not so,"
answered the Sultan; "they endure even now. Thou wert the cause
that I am now alive, and by Allah, what thing soever thou askest
of me, I will give it to thee! But ask thou first of God, and
then of me." "O my lord," said the stoker, "I fear...," "Fear
not," quoth the Sultan. "I fear," continued he, "to ask aught and
that thou shouldst refuse it to me." At this the King laughed and
replied, "If thou askedst of me the half of my kingdom, I would
share it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking." "I
fear...," repeated the stoker. "Do not fear," said the King. "I
fear," went on the stoker, "lest I ask a thing and thou be not
able thereto." With this, the Sultan waxed wroth and said, "Ask
what thou wilt." Then said the stoker, "I ask, first of God and
then of thee, that thou write me a patent of mastership over all
the stokers in Jerusalem." The Sultan and all who were present
laughed and Zoulmekan said, "Ask somewhat other than this." "O my
lord," replied the stoker, "said I not I feared thou wouldst not
choose to grant me what I should ask or be not able thereto?"
Therewith the Vizier nudged him once and twice and thrice, and
every time he began, "I ask of thee..." Quoth the Sultan, "Ask
and be speedy." So he said, "I beseech thee to make me captain of
the scavengers in Jerusalem or Damascus." Then all those who were
present laughed, till they fell backward, and the Vizier beat
him. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, "What art thou
that thou shouldst beat me? It is no fault of mine: didst thou
not bid me ask some considerable thing? Let me go to my own
country." With this, the Sultan knew that he was jesting and took
patience with him awhile; then turned to him and said, "O my
brother, ask of me some considerable thing, befitting our
dignity." So the stoker said, "O King of the age, I ask first of
God and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of Damascus in
the room of thy brother." "God granteth thee this," answered the
King. So the stoker kissed the ground before him, and he bade set
him a chair in his rank and put on him a viceroy's habit. Then he
wrote him a patent of investiture and sealing it with his own
seal, said to the Vizier, "None shall go with him but thou; and
when thou returnest, do thou bring with thee my brother's
daughter, Kuzia Fekan." "I hear and obey," answered the Vizier
and taking the stoker, went down with him and made ready for the
journey. Then the King appointed the stoker servants and officers
and gave him a new litter and princely equipage and said to the
amirs, "Whoso loves me, let him honour this man and give him
a handsome present." So they brought him every one his gift,
according to his competence; and the King named him Ziblcan,
[FN#150] and conferred on him the surname of honour of El
Mujahid.[FN#151] As soon as the new Viceroy's gear was ready, he
went up with the Vizier to the King, to take leave of him and ask
his permission to depart. The King rose to him and embracing him,
exhorted him to do justice among his subjects and deal fairly
with them and bade him make ready for war against the infidels
after two years Then they took leave of each other and King
Ziblcan, surnamed El Mujahid, set out on his journey, after the
amirs had brought him slaves and servants, even to five thousand
in number, who rode after him. The Grand Chamberlain also took
horse, as did Behram, captain of the Medes, and Rustem, captain
of the Persians, and Terkash, captain of the Arabs, and rode with
him three days' journey, to do him honour and take their leaves
of him. Then they returned to Baghdad and the Sultan Ziblcan and
the Vizier Dendan fared on, with their company, till they drew
near Damascus. Now news was come upon the wings of birds, to the
notables of Damascus that King Zoulmekan had made Sultan over
Damascus a Sultan called Ziblcan el Mujahid; so when he reached
the city, he found it decorated in his honour, and all the folk
came out to gaze on him. He entered Damascus in great state and
went up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of
estate, whilst the Vizier Dendan stood in attendance on him, to
acquaint him with the ranks and stations of the amirs. Then the
grandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down
blessings on him. He received them graciously and bestowed on
them gifts and dresses of honour; after which he opened the
treasuries and gave largesse to the troops, great and small. Then
he governed and did justice and proceeded to equip the lady Kuzia
Fekan, daughter of King Sherkan, appointing her a litter of
silken stuff. Moreover, he furnished the Vizier Dendan also for
the return journey and would have made him a gift of money, but
he refused, saying, "Thou art near the time of the tryst with the
King, and haply thou wilt have need of money, or we may send to
seek of thee funds for the Holy War or what not." When the Vizier
was ready, the Viceroy brought Kuzia Fekan to him and made her
mount the litter, giving her ten damsels to do her service.
Moreover, he mounted, to bid the Vizier farewell, and they set
forward, whilst Ziblcan returned to Damascus and busied himself
in ordering the affairs of his government and making ready his
harness of war, against such time as King Zoulmekan should send
to him there for. Meanwhile the Vizier and his company fared
forward by easy stages, till they came, after a month's travel,
to Ruhbeh[FN#152] and thence pushed on, till they drew near
Baghdad. Then he despatched messengers, to inform King Zoulmekan
of his arrival; and he, when he heard this, took horse and rode
out to meet him. The Vizier would have dismounted to receive him,
but the King conjured him not to do so and spurred his steed,
till he came up to him. Then he questioned him of Ziblcan,
whereto the Vizier replied that he was well and that he had
brought with him his brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan. At this the
King rejoiced and said to Dendan, "Go thou and rest thee of the
fatigue of the journey, and after three days come to me again."
"With all my heart," replied the Vizier and betook himself to his
own house, whilst the King went up to his palace and went in to
his brother's daughter, who was then a girl of eight years old.
When he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed sore for her
father. Then he let make for her clothes and gave her splendid
jewels and ornaments and bade lodge her with his son Kanmakan in
one place. So they both grew up, the brightest and bravest of the
people of their time; but Kuzia Fekan grew up possessed of good
sense and understanding and knowledge of the issues of events,
whilst Kanmakan grew up generous and freehanded, taking no
thought to the issue of aught. Now Kuzia Fekan used to ride
a-horseback and fare forth with her cousin into the open plain
and range at large with him in the desert; and they both learnt
to smite with swords and thrust with spears. So they grew up,
till each of them attained the age of twelve, when King
Zoulmekan, having completed his preparations and provisions for
the Holy War, summoned the Vizier Dendan and said to him, "Know
that I am minded to do a thing, which I will discover to thee,
and do thou with speed return me an answer thereon." "What is
that, O King of the age?" asked the Vizier. "I am resolved," said
the King, "to make my son Kanmakan king and rejoice in him in my
lifetime and do battle before him, till death overcome me. What
deemest thou of this?" The Vizier kissed the earth before the
King and replied, "O King and Sultan, lord of the age and the
time, this that is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is
now no time to carry it out, for two reasons: the first, that thy
son Kanmakan is yet of tender age; and the second, that it is of
wont that he who makes his son king in his lifetime, lives but a
little thereafterward." "Know, O Vizier," rejoined the King,
"that we will make the Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for
he is art and part of us and he married my sister, so that he is
to me as a brother." Quoth the Vizier, "Do what seemeth good to
thee: we will obey thine orders." Then the King sent for the
Grand Chamberlain and the grandees of the kingdom and said to
them, "Ye know that this my son Kanmakan is the first cavalier of
the age and that he hath no peer in jousting and martial
exercises; and now I appoint him to be Sultan over you in my
stead and I make his uncle, the Grand Chamberlain, guardian over
him." "O King of the age," replied the Chamberlain, "I am but an
offset of thy bounty." And the King said, "O Chamberlain, verily
this my son Kanmakan and my niece Kuzia Fekan are brothers'
children; so I marry them one to the other and I call those
present to witness thereof." Then he made over to his son such
treasures as beggar description and going in to his sister Nuzhet
ez Zeman told her what he had done, whereat she rejoiced greatly
and said, "Verily, they are both my children. May God preserve
thee to them many a year!" "O my sister," replied he, "I have
accomplished that which was in my heart of the world and I have
no fear for my son: yet it were well that thou shouldst have a
watchful eye to him and to his mother." And he went on to commend
to the Chamberlain and Nuzhet ez Zeman his son and niece and
wife. Thus did he nights and days till he [fell sick and] deeming
surely that he should drink the cup of death, took to his bed and
abode thus a whole year, whilst the Chamberlain took upon himself
the ordering of the people and the realm. At the end of this
time, the King summoned his son Kanmakan and the Vizier Dendan
and said to the former, "O my son, this Vizier shall be thy
father, when I am dead; for know that I am about to leave this
transitory house of life for that which is eternal. And indeed I
have fulfilled my lust of this world; yet there remaineth in my
heart one regret, which may God dispel at thy hands!" "What
regret is that, O my father?" asked his son. "O my son," answered
Zoulmekan, "it is that I die without having avenged thy
grandfather Omar ben Ennuman and thine uncle Sherkan on an old
woman whom they call Dhat ed Dewahi; but, so God grant thee aid,
do not thou fail to take thy wreak on her and to wipe out the
disgrace we have suffered at the hands of the infidels. Beware of
the old woman's craft and do as the Vizier shall counsel thee;
for that he from of old time hath been the pillar of our realm."
And his son assented to what he said. Then the King's eyes ran
over with tears and his sickness redoubled on him, nor did it
leave to press sore upon him four whole years, during which time
his brother-in-law the Chamberlain held sway over the country,
judging and commanding and forbidding, to the contentment of the
people and the nobles, and all the land prayed for him[FN#153]
what while Zoulmekan was occupied with his malady. As for
Kanmakan, he had no thought but of riding and tilting with spears
and shooting with arrows, and thus also did his cousin Kuzia
Fekan; for they were wont to go forth at the first of the day and
return at nightfall, when she would go in to her mother and he to
his, to find her sitting weeping by his father's bed. Then he
would tend his father till daybreak, when he would go forth again
with his cousin, according to their wont. Now Zoulmekan's
sufferings were long upon him and he wept and recited these
verses:
My strength is past away, my tale of days is told And I, alas! am
left even as thou dost behold.
In honour's day, the first amongst my folk was I, And in the race
for fame the foremost and most bold.
Would that before my death I might but see my son The empery in
my stead over the people hold
And rush upon his foes and take on them his wreak, At push of
sword and pike, in fury uncontrolled.
Lo, I'm a man fordone, in this world and the next, Except my
spright of God be solaced and consoled!
When he had made an end of repeating these verses he laid his
head on his pillow and his eyes closed and he slept. In his sleep
he saw one who said to him, "Rejoice for thy son shall fill the
lands with justice and have the mastery over them and men shall
obey him." Then he awoke gladdened by this happy omen that he had
seen, and after a few days, death smote him, whereat great grief
fell on the people of Baghdad, and gentle and simple mourned for
him. But time passed over him, as if he had never been, and
Kanmakan's estate was changed; for the people of Baghdad set him
aside and put him and his family in a place apart. When his
mother saw this, she fell into the sorriest of plights and said,
"Needs must I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I hope for the
favour of the Subtle, the All-Wise One!" Then she betook herself
to the house of the Chamberlain, who was now become Sultan, and
found him sitting upon his couch. So she went in to his wife
Nuzhet ez Zeman and wept sore and said, "Verily, the dead have no
friends. May God never bring you to need and may you cease not to
rule justly over rich and poor many days and years! Thine ears
have heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours aforetime
of kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and goodliness of
life and condition; and now fortune hath turned upon us, and fate
and the time have played us false and wrought hostilely with us;
wherefore I come to thee, craving thy bounties, I that have been
used to confer favours; for when a man dies, women and girls are
brought low after him." And she repeated the following verses:
Let it suffice thee that Death is the worker of wonders and know
That the lives which are gone from our sight will never
return to us mo'.
The days of the life of mankind are nothing but journeys, I wot,
whose watering-places for aye are mixed with misfortune and
woe.
Yet nothing afflicteth my heart like the loss of the good and the
great, Whom the stresses of adverse events have compassed
about and laid low.
When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she remembered her brother
Zoulmekan and his son Kanmakan and making her draw near to her,
said to her, "By Allah, I am now rich and thou poor, and by
Allah, we did not leave to seek thee out, but that we feared to
wound thy heart, lest thou shouldst deem our gifts to thee an
alms. Of a truth, all the good that we now enjoy is from thee and
thy husband: so our house is thy house and our place thy place,
and all that we have of wealth and goods is thine." Then she clad
her richly and appointed her a lodging in the palace, adjoining
her own; and she and her son abode therein in all delight of
life. Him also did Nuzhet ez Zeman clothe in kings' raiment and
gave them handmaids to do them service. After a little, she told
her husband of her brother's widow, whereat his eyes filled with
tears and he said, "Wouldst thou see the world after thee, look
upon the world after another than thyself. Entertain her
honourably and enrich her poverty."
Meanwhile, Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan grew up and flourished, like
unto two fruit-laden saplings or two shining moons, till they
reached the age of fifteen. As for the girl, she was indeed the
fairest of the cloistered maids, with lovely face and smooth
cheeks, slender waist, heavy hips and arrowy shape, lips sweeter
than old wine and spittle as it were the fountain Selsebil of
Paradise, even as saith the poet, describing her:
From her mouth's honeyed dew, meseems, the first-pressed wine is
drawn And on her sweetest lips the grapes, from which it's
crushed, are grown;
And when thou makest her to bend, its vines sway in her shape.
Blessed be He who fashioned her and may not be made known!
For indeed God had united in her every attribute of beauty: her
shape put to shame the willow-wand and the rose sought grace
before her cheeks; the water of her mouth made mock of clear
wine, and she gladdened heart and eyes, even as saith of her the
poet:
Goodly and glorious she is, and perfect in every charm. Her
eyelashes put to shame kohl and the users of kohl.
Even as a sword in the hand of Ali, the Vicar of God, So is the
glance of her eye to a lover's heart and soul.
As for Kanmakan, he was no less accomplished in grace and
excelling in perfection; there was none could match with him in
beauty and qualities, and valour shone from between his liquid
black eyes, testifying for him and not against him. The hardest
hearts inclined to him; and when the tender down of his lips and
cheeks began to sprout, many were the poems made in his honour:
as for example quoth one:
Unshown was my excuse, till on his cheek the hair Grew and the
darkness crept, bewildered, here and there.
A fawn, when eyes of men are fixed upon his charms, His glances
straight on them a trenchant poniard bare.
And another:
His lovers' souls have woven upon his cheek, I ween, A net the
blood has painted with all its ruddy sheen.
Oh, how at them I marvel! They're martyrs; yet they dwell In
fire, and for their raiment, they're clad in sendal
green.[FN#154]
It chanced, one festival day, that Kuzia Fekan went out,
surrounded by her handmaids, to visit certain kindred of the
court; and indeed beauty encompassed her; the rose of her cheek
vied with the mole thereon, her teeth flashed from her smiling
lips, like the petals of the camomile flower, and she was as the
resplendent moon. Her cousin Kanmakan began to turn about her and
devour her with his eyes. Then he took courage and giving loose
to his tongue, repeated the following verses:
When shall the mourning heart be healed of anger and disdain?
When, rigour ceasing, shall the lips of union smile again?
Would God I knew if I shall lie, some night, within the arms Of a
beloved, in whose heart is somewhat of my pain!
When she heard this, she was angry and putting on a haughty air,
said to him, "Hast thou a mind to shame me among the folk, that
thou speakest thus of me in thy verse? By Allah, except thou
leave this talk, I will assuredly complain of thee to the Grand
Chamberlain, Sultan of Baghdad and Khorassan and lord of justice
and equity, whereby disgrace and punishment will fall on thee?"
To this Kanmakan made no reply, but returned to Baghdad: and
Kuzia Fekan also returned home and complained of her cousin to
her mother, who said to her, "O my daughter, belike he meant thee
no ill, and is he not an orphan? Indeed, he said nought that
implied reproach to thee; so look thou tell none of this, lest it
come to the Sultan's ears and he cut short his life and blot out
his name and make it even as yesterday, whose remembrance hath
passed away." How ever, Kanmakan's case was not hidden from the
people, and his love for Kuzia Fekan became known in Baghdad, so
that the women talked of it. Moreover, his heart became
contracted and his patience waned and he knew not what to do.
Then longed he to give vent to the anguish he endured, by reason
of the pangs of separation; but he feared her anger and her
rebuke: so he recited the following verses:
What though I be fearful, anon, of her wrath, Whose humour serene
is grown troubled and dour,
I bear it with patience, as he who is sick Endureth a caut'ry in
hopes of a cure.
His verses came one day to the knowledge of King Sasan (for so
had they named the Grand Chamberlain, on his assumption of the
Sultanate), as he sat on his throne, and he was told of the love
the prince bore to Kuzia Fekan; whereat he was sore vexed, and
going in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, said to her, "Verily, to
bring together fire and dry grass is of the greatest of risks;
and men may not be trusted with women, so long as eyes cast
furtive glances and eyelids quiver. Now thy nephew Kanmakan is
come to man's estate and it behoves us to forbid him access to
the harem; nor is it less needful that thy daughter be kept from
the company of men, for the like of her should be cloistered."
"Thou sayest sooth, O wise King," answered she. Next day came
Kanmakan, according to his wont, and going in to his aunt,
saluted her. She returned his greeting and said to him, "O my
son, I have somewhat to say to thee, that I would fain leave
unsaid; yet must I tell it thee, in my own despite." "Speak,"
said he. "Know then," rejoined she, "that thine uncle the
Chamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fekan, has heard of thy love for
her and the verses thou madest of her and has ordered that she be
kept from thee; wherefore, if thou have occasion for aught from
us, I will send it to thee from behind the door, and thou shalt
not look upon Kuzia Fekan nor return hither from day forth." When
he heard this, he withdrew, without speaking a word, and betook
himself to his mother, to whom he related what his aunt had said
to him. Quoth she, "This all comes of thy much talk. Thou knowest
that the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fekan is noised abroad
everywhere and how thou eatest their victual and makest love to
their daughter." "And who should have her but I?" replied the
prince. "She is the daughter of my father's brother and I have
the best of rights to her." "These are idle words," rejoined his
mother. "Be silent, lest thy talk come to King Sasan's ears and
it prove the cause of thy losing her and of thy ruin and increase
of affliction. They have not sent us the evening meal to-night
and we shall die of want; and were we in any land other than
this, we were already dead of the pangs of hunger or the
humiliation of begging our bread." When Kanmakan heard his
mother's words, his anguish redoubled; his eyes ran over with
tears and he sobbed and complained and repeated the following
verses:
Give o'er this unrelenting blame, that never lets me be! My heart
loves her to whom it's thrall and may not struggle free.
Look not to me for any jot of patience, for I swear By God His
house, my patience all is clean divorced from me!
Blamers to prudence me exhort; I heed them not, for I In my
avouchment am sincere of love and constancy.
They hinder me by very force from visiting my dear, Though, by
the Merciful, nor rogue am I nor debauchee!
Indeed, my bones, whenas they hear the mention of her name, Do
quake and tremble even as birds from sparrow-hawks that
flee.
O daughter of my uncle, say to him who chides at love, That I, by
Allah, am distraught with love-longing for thee.
And he said to his mother, "I can dwell no longer in my aunt's
house nor among these people, but will go forth and abide in the
corners of the city." So he and his mother left the palace and
took up their abode in one of the quarters of the poorer sort:
and she used to go from time to time to King Sasan's palace and
take thence food for her own and her son's subsistence. One day,
Kuzia Fekan took her aside and said to her, "Alas, my aunt, how
is it with thy son?" "O my daughter," replied she, "sooth to say,
he is tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, being fallen into the
snare of thy love." And she repeated to her the verses he had
made; whereupon Kuzia Fekan wept and said, "By Allah, I rebuked
not him for his words of ill-will or dislike to him, but because
I feared the malice of enemies for him. Indeed, my passion for
him is double that he feels for me; words fail to set out my
yearning for him; and were it not for the extravagances of his
tongue and the wanderings of his wit, my father had not cut off
his favours from him nor decreed unto him exclusion and
prohibition. However, man's fortune is nought but change, and
patience in every case is most becoming; peradventure He who
ordained our severance will vouchsafe us reunion!" And she
repeated the following:
O son of mine uncle, the like of thine anguish I suffer, the like
of thy passion I feel;
Yet hide I from men what I suffer for longing, And shouldst thou
not also thy passion conceal?
When his mother heard this, she thanked her and blessed her: then
she left her and returning to her son, told him what his mistress
had said; whereupon his desire for her increased. But he took
heart, being eased of his despair, and the turmoil of his spirits
was quelled. And he said, "By Allah, I desire none but her!" And
he repeated the following verses:
Give over thy chiding; I'll hearken no whit to the flouts of my
foes: Indeed I've discovered my secret that nought should
have made me disclose;
And she, whose enjoyment I hoped for, alack! is far distant from
me; Mine eyes watch the hours of the dark, whilst she passes
the night in repose.
So the days and nights went by, whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon
coals of fire, till he reached the age of seventeen: and indeed
his beauty was now come to perfection and his wit had ripened.
One night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said,
"Why should I keep silence, till I consume away, and see not my
love? My only fault is poverty: so, by Allah, I will go out from
this land and wander afar in the plains and valleys; for my
condition in this city is one of misery and I have no friend nor
lover in it to comfort me; wherefore I will distract myself by
absence from my native land, till I die and am at peace from
abasement and tribulation." And he repeated the following verses:
Though my soul weary for distress and flutter fast for woe, Yet
of its nature was it ne'er to buckle to a foe.
Excuse me; for indeed my heart is like a book, whereof The
superscription's nought but tears, that aye unceasing flow.
Behold my cousin, how she seems a maid of Paradise, A houri come,
by Rizwan's grace, to visit us below!
Who seeks the glances of her eyes and dares the scathing stroke
Of their bright swords, shall hardly 'scape their swift and
deadly blow.
Lo, I will wander o'er the world, to free my heart from bale And
compensation for its loss upon my soul bestow!
Yea, I will range the fields of war and tilt against the brave
And o'er the champions will I ride roughshod and lay them
low.
Then will I come back, glad at heart and rich in goods and store,
Driving the herds and flocks as spoil before me, as I go.
So he went out in the darkness of the night, barefoot, wearing a
short-sleeved tunic and a skull-cap of felt seven years old and
carrying a cake of dry bread, three days stale, and betook
himself to the gate El Arij of Baghdad. Here he waited till the
gate opened, when he was the first to go forth; and he went out
at random and wandered in the deserts day and night. When the
night came, his mother sought him, but found him not, whereupon
the world, for all its wideness, was straitened upon her and she
took no delight in aught of its good. She looked for him a first
day and a second and a third, till ten days were past, but no
news of him reached her. Then her breast became contracted and
she shrieked and lamented, saying, "O my son, O my delight, thou
hast revived my sorrows! Did not what I endured suffice, but thou
must depart from the place of my abiding? After thee, I care not
for food nor delight in sleep, and but tears and mourning are
left me. O my son, from what land shall I call thee? What country
hath given thee refuge?" And her sobs burst up, and she repeated
the following verses:
We know that, since you went away, by grief and pain we're tried.
The bows of severance on us full many a shaft have plied.
They girt their saddles on and gainst the agonies of death Left
me to strive alone, whilst they across the sand-wastes
tried.
Deep in the darkness of the night a ring-dove called to me,
Complaining of her case; but I, "Give o'er thy plaint,"
replied.
For, by thy life, an if her heart were full of dole, like mine,
She had not put a collar on nor yet her feet had dyed.
My cherished friend is gone and I for lack of him endure All
manner sorrows which with me for ever will abide.
Then she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to
weeping and lamentation. Her grief became known and all the
people of the town and country wept with her and said, "Where is
thine eye, O Zoulmekan?" And they bewailed the rigour of fate,
saying, "What can have befallen him, that he left his native town
and fled from the place where his father used to fill the hungry
and do justice and mercy?" And his mother redoubled her tears and
lamentations, till the news of Kanmakan's departure came to King
Sasan through the chief amirs, who said to him, "Verily, he is
the son of our (late) King and the grandson of King Omar ben
Ennuman and we hear that he hath exiled himself from the
country." When King Sasan heard these words, he was wroth with
them and ordered one of them to be hanged, whereat the fear of
him fell upon the hearts of the rest and they dared not speak one
word. Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zoulmekan had
done him and how he had commended his son to his care; wherefore
he grieved for Kanmakan and said "Needs must I have search made
for him in all countries." So he summoned Terkash and bade him
choose a hundred horse and go in quest of the prince. Accordingly
he went out and was absent ten days, after which he returned and
said, "I can learn no tidings of him and have come on no trace of
him, nor can any tell me aught of him." With this, King Sasan
repented him of that which he had done with Kanmakan; whilst his
mother abode without peace or comfort, nor would patience come at
her call: and thus twenty heavy days passed over her.
To return to Kanmakan. When he left Baghdad, he went forth,
perplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should go: so
he fared on alone into the desert for the space of three days and
saw neither footman nor horseman. Sleep deserted him and his
wakefulness redoubled, for he pined for his people and his
country. So he wandered on, eating of the herbs of the earth and
drinking of its waters and resting under its trees at the hour of
the noontide heats, till he came to another road, into which he
turned and following it other three days, came to a land of green
fields and smiling valleys, abounding in the fruits of the earth.
It had drunken of the beakers of the clouds, to the sound of the
voices of the turtle and the ring-dove, till its hill-sides were
enamelled with verdure and its fields were fragrant. At this
sight, Kanmakan recalled his father's city Baghdad, and for
excess of emotion repeated the following verses:
I wander on, in hope I may return Some day, yet know not when
that day shall be.
What drove me forth was that I found no means To fend awe, the
ills that pressed on me.
Then he wept, but presently wiped away his tears and ate of the
fruits of the earth. Then he made his ablutions and prayed the
ordained prayers that he had neglected all this time; after which
he sat in that place, resting, the whole day. When the night
came, he lay down and slept till midnight, when he awoke and
heard a man's voice repeating the following verses:
Life unto me is worthless, except I see the shine
Of the flashing teeth of my mistress and eke her face divine.
The bishops in the convents pray for her day and night
And in the mosques the imams fall prone before her shrine.
Death's easier than the rigours of a beloved one,
Whose image never cheers me, whenas I lie and pine.
O joy of boon-companions, when they together be
And lover and beloved in one embrace entwine!
Still more so in the season of Spring, with all its flowers,
What time the world is fragrant with blossoms sweet and fine.
Up, drinker of the vine-juice, and forth, for seest thou not
Earth gilt with blooms and waters all welling forth like wine?
When Kanmakan heard this, it revived his sorrows; his tears ran
down his cheeks like rivers and flames of fire raged in his
heart. He rose to see who it was that spoke, but saw none, for
the thickness of the dark; whereupon passion increased on him and
he was alarmed and restlessness possessed him. So he descended to
the bottom of the valley and followed the banks of the stream,
till he heard one sighing heavily, and the same voice recited the
followed verses:
Though thou have used to dissemble the love in thy heart for
fear, Give on the day of parting, free course to sob and
tear.
'Twixt me and my beloved were vows of love and troth; So cease I
for her never to long and wish her near.
My heart is full of longing; the zephyr, when it blows, To many a
thought of passion stirs up my heavy cheer.
Doth she o' the anklets hold me in mind, whilst far away, Though
between me and Saada were solemn vows and dear?
Shall the nights e'er unite us, the nights of dear delight, And
shall we tell our suff'rings, each in the other's ear?
"Thou seduced by passion for us," quoth she, and I, "God keep Thy
lovers all! How many have fallen to thy spear?"
If mine eyes taste the pleasance of sleep, while she's afar, May
God deny their vision her beauties many a year!
O the wound in mine entrails! I see no cure for it Save
love-delight and kisses from crimson lips and clear.