'Thou art not like it if to me my portion thou
deny:'[FN#55]
His honey-dew of lips is like the grateful water draught *
Would cool me when a fire in heart upflameth fierce and
high:
How shall I give him up who is my heart and soul of me, *
My malady my wasting cause, my love, sole leach of me?"
Then, as the glooms of night closed around her, her yearning increased
and she called to mind the past and recited also these couplets,
"'Tis dark: my transport and unease now gather might and main,
* And love-desire provoketh me to wake my wonted pain:
The pang of parting takes for ever place within my breast, *
And pining makes me desolate in destitution lain.
Ecstasy sore maltreats my soul and yearning burns my sprite, *
And tears betray love's secresy which I would lief contain:
I weet no way, I know no case that can make light my load, *
Or heal my wasting body or cast out from me this bane.
A hell of fire is in my heart upflames with lambent tongue *
And Laza's furnace-fires within my liver place have ta'en.
O thou, exaggerating blame for what befel, enough *
I bear with patience whatsoe'er hath writ for me the Pen!
I swear, by Allah, ne'er to find aught comfort for their loss;
* "Tis oath of passion's children and their oaths are ne'er
in vain.
O Night! Salams of me to friends and let to them be known *
Of thee true knowledge how I wake and waking ever wone."
Meanwhile, the hermit said to Uns al-Wujud, "Go down to the palm- grove
in the valley and fetch some fibre."[FN#56] So he went and returned
with the palm-fibre, which the hermit took and, twisting into ropes,
make therewith a net,[FN#57] such as is used for carrying straw; after
which he said, "O Uns al-Wujud, in the heart of the valley groweth a
gourd, which springeth up and drieth upon its roots. Go down there and
fill this sack therewith; then tie it together and, casting it into the
water, embark thereon and make for the midst of the sea, so haply thou
shalt win thy wish; for whoso never ventureth shall not have what he
seeketh." "I hear and obey," answered Uns al-Wujud. Then he bade the
hermit farewell after the holy man had prayed for him; and, betaking
himself to the sole of the valley, did as his adviser had counselled
him; made the sack, launched it upon the water, and pushed from shore.
Then there arose a wind, which drave him out to sea, till he was lost
to the eremite's view; and he ceased not to float over the abysses of
the ocean, one billow tossing him up and another bearing him down (and
he beholding the while the dangers and marvels of the deep), for the
space of three days. At the end of that time Fate cast him upon the
Mount of the Bereft Mother, where he landed, giddy and tottering like a
chick unfledged, and at the last of his strength for hunger and thirst;
but, finding there streams flowing and birds on the branches cooing and
fruit-laden trees in clusters and singly growing, he ate of the fruits
and drank of the rills. Then he walked on till he saw some white thing
afar off, and making for it, found that it was a strongly fortified
castle. So he went up to the gate and seeing it locked, sat down by it;
and there he sat for three days when behold, the gate opened and an
eunuch came out, who finding Uns al-Wujud there seated, said to him,
"Whence camest thou and who brought thee hither?" Quoth he, "From
Ispahan and I was voyaging with merchandise when my ship was wrecked
and the waves cast me upon the farther side of this island." Whereupon
the eunuch wept and embraced him, saying, "Allah preserve thee, O thou
friendly face! Ispahan is mine own country and I have there a cousin,
the daughter of my father's brother, whom I loved from my childhood and
cherished with fond affection; but a people stronger than we fell upon
us in foray and taking me among other booty, cut off my yard[FN#58] and
sold me for a castrato, whilst I was yet a lad; and this is how I came
to be in such case."—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Seventy-sixth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the eunuch who
came forth from the castle, where Rose-in-Hood was confined, told Uns
al-Wujud all his tale and said:—"The raiders who captured me cut off my
yard and sold me for a castrato; and this is how I came to be in such
case."[FN#59] And after saluting him and wishing him long life, the
eunuch carried him into the courtyard of the castle, where he saw a
great tank of water, surrounded by trees, on whose branches hung cages
of silver, with doors of gold, and therein birds were warbling and
singing the praises of the Requiting King. And when he came to the
first cage he looked in and lo! a turtle dove, on seeing him, raised
her voice and cried out, saying, "O Thou Bounty-fraught!" Whereat he
fell down fainting and after coming to himself, he sighed heavily and
recited these couplets,
"O turtle dove, like me art thou distraught? *
Then pray the Lord and sing 'O Bounty-fraught!'
Would I knew an thy moan were sign of joy, *
Or cry of love-desire in heart inwrought,—
An moan thou pining for a lover gone *
Who left thee woe begone to pine in thought,—
Or if like me hast lost thy fondest friend, *
And severance long desire to memory brought?
O Allah, guard a faithful lover's lot *
I will not leave her though my bones go rot!"
Then, after ending his verses, he fainted again; and, presently
reviving he went on to the second cage, wherein he found a ringdove.
When it saw him, it sang out, "O Eternal, I thank thee!" and he groaned
and recited these couplets,
"I heard a ringdove chanting plaintively, *
'I thank Thee, O Eternal for this misery!'
Haply, perchance, may Allah, of His grace, *
Send me by this long round my love to see.
Full oft[FN#60] she comes with honeyed lips dark red, *
And heaps up lowe upon love's ardency.
Quoth I (while longing fires flame high and fierce *
In heart, and wasting life's vitality,
And tears like gouts of blood go railing down *
In torrents over cheeks now pale of blee),
'None e'er trod earth that was not born to woe, *
But I will patient dree mine agony,
So help me Allah! till that happy day *
When with my mistress I unite shall be:
Then will I spend my good on lover-wights, *
Who're of my tribe and of the faith of me;
And loose the very birds from jail set free, *
And change my grief for gladdest gree and glee!'"
Then he went on to the third cage, wherein he found a
mockingbird[FN#61] which, when it saw him, set up a song, and he
recited the following couplets,
"Pleaseth me yon Hazar of mocking strain *
Like voice of lover pained by love in vain.
Woe's me for lovers! Ah how many men *
By nights and pine and passion low are lain!
As though by stress of love they had been made *
Morn-less and sleep-less by their pain and bane.
When I went daft for him who conquered me *
And pined for him who proved of proudest strain,
My tears in streams down trickled and I cried *
'These long-linkt tears bind like an adamant-chain:'
Grew concupiscence, severance long, and I *
Lost Patience' hoards and grief waxed sovereign:
If Justice bide in world and me unite *
With him I love and Allah veil us deign,
I'll strip my clothes that he my form shall sight *
With parting, distance, grief, how poor of plight!"
Then he went to the fourth cage, where he found a Bulbul[FN#62] which,
at sight of him, began to sway to and fro and sing its plaintive
descant; and when he heard its complaint, he burst into tears and
repeated these couplets.
"The Bulbul's note, whenas dawn is nigh, *
Tells the lover from strains of strings to fly:
Complaineth for passion Uns al-Wujud, *
For pine that would being to him deny.
How many a strain do we hear, whose sound *
Softens stones and the rock can mollify:
And the breeze of morning that sweetly speaks *
Of meadows in flowered greenery.
And scents and sounds in the morning-tide *
Of birds and zephyrs in fragrance vie;
But I think of one, of an absent friend, *
And tears rail like rain from a showery sky;
And the flamy tongues in my breast uprise *
As sparks from gleed that in dark air fly.
Allah deign vouchsafe to a lover distraught *
Someday the face of his dear to descry!
For lovers, indeed, no excuse is clear, *
Save excuse of sight and excuse of eye."
Then he walked on a little and came to a goodly cage, than which was no
goodlier there, and in it a culver of the forest, that is to say, a
wood-pigeon,[FN#63] the bird renowned among birds as the minstrel of
love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck marvellous fine
and fair. He considered it awhile and, seeing it absently brooding in
its cage, he shed tears and repeated these couplets,
"O culver of copse,[FN#64] with salams I greet; *
O brother of lovers who woe must weet!
I love a gazelle who is slender-slim, *
Whose glances for keenness the scymitar beat:
For her love are my heart and my vitals a-fire, *
And my frame consumes in love's fever-heat.
The sweet taste of food is unlawful for me, *
And forbidden is slumber, unlawfullest sweet.
Endurance and solace have travelled from me, *
And love homes in my heart and grief takes firm seat:
How shall life deal joy when they flee my sight *
Who are joy and gladness and life and sprite?"
As soon as Uns al-Wujud had ended his verse,—And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Seventy-seventh Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that as soon as Uns
al-Wujud had ended his verse, the wood-culver awoke from its brooding
and cooed a reply to his lines and shrilled and trilled with its
thrilling notes till it all but spake with human speech;[FN#65] and the
tongue of the case talked for it and recited these couplets,
"O lover, thou bringest to thought a tide *
When the strength of my youth first faded and died;
And a friend of whose form I was 'namoured, *
Seductive and dight with beauty's pride;
Whose voice, as he sat on the sandhill-tree, *
From the Nay's[FN#66] sweet sound turned my heart aside;
A fowler snared him in net, the while *
'O that man would leave me at large!' he cried;
I had hoped he might somewhat of mercy show *
When a hapless lover he so espied;
But Allah smite him who tore me away, *
In his hardness of heart, from my lover's side;
But aye my desire for him groweth more, *
And my heart with the fires of disjunction is fried:
Allah guard a true lover, who strives with love, *
And hath borne the torments I still abide!
And, seeing me bound in this cage, with mind *
Of ruth, release me my love to find."
Then Uns al-Wujud turned to his companion, the Ispahahi, and said,
"What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in it?" Quoth the
eunuch, "The Wazir of a certain King built it to guard his daughter,
fearing for her the accidents of Time and the incidents of Fortune, and
lodged her herein, her and her attendants; nor do we open it save once
in every year, when their provision cometh to them." And Uns al-Wujud
said to himself, "I have gained my end, though I may have long to
wait." Such was his case; but as regards Rose-in-Hood, of a truth she
took no pleasure in eating or drinking, sitting or sleeping; but her
desire and passion and distraction redoubled on her, and she went
wandering about the castle-corners, but could find no issue; wherefore
she shed tears and recited these couplets,
"They have cruelly ta'en me from him, my beloved, *
And made me taste anguish in prison ta'en:
They have fired my heart with the flames of love, *
Barred all sight of him whom to see I'm fain:
In a lofty palace they prisoned me *
On a mountain placed in the middle main.
If they'd have me forget him, right vain's their wish, *
For my love is grown of a stronger strain.
How can I forget him whose face was cause *
Of all I suffer, of all I 'plain?
The whole of my days in sorrow's spent, *
And in thought of him through the night I'm lain.
Remembrance of him cheers my solitude, *
While I lorn of his presence and lone remain.
Would I knew if, after this all, my fate *
To oblige the desire of my hear will deign."
When her verses were ended, she ascended to the terrace-roof of the
castle after donning her richest clothes and trinkets and throwing a
necklace of jewels around her neck. Then binding together some dresses
of Ba'albak[FN#67] stuff by way of rope, she tied them to the crenelles
and let herself down thereby to the ground. And she fared on over
wastes and waterless wilds, till she came to the shore, where she saw a
fisherman plying here and there over the sea, for the wind had driven
him on to the island. When he saw her, he was affrighted[FN#68] and
pushed off again, flying from her; but she cried out and made pressing
signs to him to return, versifying with these couplets,
"O fisherman no care hast thou to fear, *
I'm but an earth-born maid in mortal sphere;
I pray thee linger and my prayer grant *
And to my true unhappy tale give ear:
Pity (so Allah spare thee!) warmest love; *
Say, hast thou seen him-my beloved fere?
I love a lovely youth whose face excels *
Sunlight, and passes moon when clearest clear:
The fawn, that sees his glance, is fain to cry *
'I am his thrall' and own himself no peer:
Beauty hath written, on his winsome cheek, *
Rare lines of pregnant sense for every seer;
Who sights the light of love his soul is saved; *
Who strays is Infidel to Hell anear:
An thou in mercy show his sight, O rare![FN#69] *
Thou shalt have every wish, the dearest dear,
Of rubies and what likest are to them *
Fresh pearls and unions new, the seashell's tear:
My friend, thou wilt forsure grant my desire *
Whose heart is melted in love's hottest fire.
When the fisherman heard her words, he wept and made moan and lamented;
then, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his youth, when
love had the mastery over him and longing and desire and distraction
were sore upon him and the fires of passion consumed him, replied with
these couplets,
"What fair excuse is this my pining plight, *
With wasted limbs and tears' unceasing blight;
And eyelids open in the nightly murk, *
And heart like fire-stick[FN#70] ready fire to smite;
Indeed love burdened us in early youth, *
And true from false coin soon we learned aright:
Then did we sell our soul on way of love, *
And drunk of many a well[FN#71] to win her sight;
Venturing very life to gain her grace, *
And make high profit perilling a mite.
'Tis Love's religion whoso buys with life *
His lover's grace, with highest gain is dight."
And when he ended his verse, he moored his boat to the beach and said
to her, "Embark, so may I carry thee whither thou wilt." Thereupon she
embarked and he put off with her; but they had not gone far from land,
before there came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly
out of sight of shore. Now the fisherman knew not whither he went, and
the strong wind blew without ceasing three days, when it fell by leave
of Allah Almighty, and they sailed on and ceased not sailing till they
came in sight of a city sitting upon the sea-shore,—And Shahrazad
perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Seventy-eighth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
fisherman's craft, carrying Rose-in-Hood, made the city sitting upon
the sea-shore, the man set about making fast to the land. Now the King
of the city was a Prince of pith and puissance named Dirbas, the Lion;
and he chanced at that moment to be seated, with his son, at a window
in the royal palace giving upon the sea; and happening to look out
seawards, they saw the fishing- boat make the land. They observed it
narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she were the full moon
overhanging the horizon- edge, with pendants in her ears of costly
balass-rubies and a collar of precious stones about her throat. Hereby
the King knew that this must indeed be the daughter of some King or
great noble and, going forth of the sea-gate of the palace, went down
to the boat, where he found the lady asleep and the fisherman busied in
making fast to shore. So he went up to her and aroused her, whereupon
she awoke, weeping; and he asked her, "Whence comest thou and whose
daughter art thou and what be the cause of thy coming hither?"; and she
answered, "I am the daughter of Ibrahim, Wazir to King Shamikh; and the
manner of my coming hither is wondrous and the cause thereof
marvellous." And she told him her whole story first and last, hiding
naught from him; then she groaned aloud and recited these couplets,
"Tear-drops have chafed mine eyelids and rail down in wondrous
wise, * For parting pain that fills my sprite and turns to
springs mine eyes,
For sake of friend who ever dwells within my vitals homed, * And
I may never win my wish of him in any guise.
He hath a favour fair and bright, and brilliant is his face, *
Which every Turk and Arab wight in loveliness outvies:
The Sun and fullest Moon lout low whenas his charms they sight, *
And lover-like they bend to him whene'er he deigneth rise.
A wondrous spell of gramarye like Kohl bedecks his eyne, * And
shows thee bow with shaft on string make ready ere it flies:
O thou, to whom I told my case expecting all excuse, * Pity a
lover-wight for whom Love-shafts such fate devise!
Verily, Love hath cast me on your coast despite of me * Of will
now weak, and fain I trust mine honour thou wilt prize:
For noble men, whenas perchance alight upon their bounds, *
Grace-worthy guests, confess their worth and raise to
dignities. Then,
O thou hope of me, to lovers' folly veil afford * And be to them
reunion cause, thou only liefest lord!"
And when she had ended her verses, she again told the King her sad tale
and shed plenteous tears and recited these couplets bearing on her
case,
"We lived till saw we all the marvels Love can bear; * Each month
to thee we hope shall fare as Rajab[FN#72] fare:
Is it not wondrous, when I saw them march amorn * That I with
water o' eyes in heart lit flames that flare?
That these mine eyelids rain fast dropping gouts of blood? * That
now my cheek grows gold where rose and lily were?
As though the safflower hue, that overspread my cheeks, * Were
Joseph's coat made stain of lying blood to wear."
Now when the King heard her words he was certified of her love and
longing and was moved to ruth for her; so he said to her, "Fear nothing
and be not troubled; thou hast come to the term of thy wishes; for
there is no help but that I win for thee thy will and bring thee to thy
desire." And he improvised these couplets,
"Daughter of nobles, who thine aim shalt gain; *
Hear gladdest news nor fear aught hurt of bane!
This day I'll pack up wealth, and send it on *
To Shαmikh, guarded by a champion-train;
Fresh pods of musk I'll send him and brocades, *
And silver white and gold of yellow vein:
Yes, and a letter shall inform him eke *
That I of kinship with that King am fain:
And I this day will lend thee bestest aid, *
That all thou covetest thy soul assain.
I, too, have tasted love and know its taste *
And can excuse whoso the same cup drain."[FN#73]
Then, ending his verse, he went forth to his troops and summoned his
Wazir; and, causing him to pack up countless treasure, commanded him
carry it to King Shamikh and say to him, "Needs must thou send me a
person named Uns al-Wujud;" and say moreover "The King is minded to
ally himself with thee by marrying his daughter to Uns al-Wujud, thine
officer. So there is no help but thou despatch him to me, that the
marriage may be solemnized in her father's kingdom." And he wrote a
letter to King Shamikh to this effect, and gave it to the Minister,
charging him strictly to bring back Uns al-Wujud and warning him, "An
thou fail thou shalt be deposed and degraded." Answered the Wazir, "I
hear and obey;" and, setting out forthright with the treasures, in due
course arrived at the court of King Shamikh whom he saluted in the name
of King Dirbas and delivered the letter and the presents. Now when King
Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns al-Wujud, he burst into
tears and said to the Wazir "And where, or where, is Uns al-Wujud?; he
went from us and we know not his place of abiding; only bring him to
me, and I will give thee double the presents thou hast brought me." And
he wept and groaned and lamented, saying these couplets,
"To me restore my dear; * I want not wealth untold:
Nor crave I gifts of pearls * Or gems or store of gold:
He was to us a moon * In beauty's heavenly fold.
Passing in form and soul; * With roe compare withhold!
His form a willow-wand, * His fruit, lures manifold;
But willow lacketh power * Men's hearts to have and hold.
I reared him from a babe * On cot of coaxing roll'd;
And now I mourn for him * With woe in soul ensoul'd."
Then, turning to the Wazir who had brought the presents and the
missive, he said, "Go back to thy liege and acquaint him that Uns
al-Wujud hath been missing this year past, and his lord knoweth not
whither he is gone nor hath any tidings of him." Answered the Minister
of King Dirbas, "O my lord, my master said to me, 'An thou fail to
bring him back, thou shalt be degraded from the Wazirate and shall not
enter my city. How then can I return without him?'" So King Shamikh
said to his Wazir Ibrahim, "Take a company and go with him and make ye
search for Uns al-Wujud everywhere." He replied, "Hearkening and
obedience;" and, taking a body of his own retainers, set out
accompanied by the Wazir of King Dirbas seeking Uns al-Wujud.—And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say.
When it was the Three Hundred and Seventy-ninth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Ibrahim, Wazir to
King Shamikh, took him a body of his retainers and, accompanied by the
Minister of King Dirbas, set out seeking Uns al-Wujud. And as often as
they fell in with wild Arabs or others they asked of the youth, saying,
"Tell us have ye seen a man whose name is so and so and his semblance
thus and thus?" But they all answered, "We know him not." Still they
continued their quest, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in
fertile plain and stony hall and in the wild and in the wold, till they
made the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and the Wazir of King Dirbas
said to Ibrahim, "Why is this mountain thus called?" He answered, "Once
of old time, here sojourned a Jinniyah, of the Jinn of China, who loved
a mortal with passionate love; and, being in fear of her life from her
own people, searched all the earth over for a place, where she might
hide him from them, till she happened on this mountain and, finding it
cut off from both men and Jinn, there being no access to it, carried
off her beloved and lodged him therein. There, when she could escape
notice of her kith and kin, she used privily to visit him, and
continued so doing till she had borne him a number of children; and the
merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their voyages over the main,
heard the weeping of the children, as it were the wailing of a woman
bereft of her babes, and said, 'Is there here a mother bereaved of her
children?' For which reason the place was named the Mountain of the
Bereaved Mother." And the Wazir of King Dirbas marvelled at his words.
Then they landed and, making for the castle, knocked at the gate which
was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Wazir Ibrahim and kissed
his hands. The Minister entered and found in the courtyard, among the
serving- men, a Fakir, which was Uns al-Wujud, but he knew him not and
said, "Whence cometh yonder wight?" Quoth they, "He is a merchant, who
hath lost his goods, but saved himself; and he is an ecstatic."[FN#74]
So the Wazir left him and went on into the castle, where he found no
trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who answered, "We wot
not how or whither she went; this place misliked her and she tarried in
it but a short time." Whereupon he wept sore and repeated these
couplets,
"Ho thou, the house, whose birds were singing gay, *
Whose sills their wealth and pride were wont display!
Till came the lover wailing for his love, *
And found thy doors wide open to the way;
Would Heaven I knew where is my soul that erst *
Was homed in house, whose owners fared away!
'Twas stored with all things bright and beautiful, *
And showed its porters ranged in fair array:
They clothed it with brocades a bride become;[FN#75] *
Would I knew whither went its lords, ah, say!"