Branches and turn wild kine;
’Mid which is a Dark-eyed for love of whose charms ✿ The Sailors[477]
would joy to be ground low-li’en.
So Nur al-Din turned to her at once and clasping her to his bosom,
sucked first her upper lip and then her under lip and slid his tongue
between the twain into her mouth. Then he rose to her and found her a
pearl unthridden and a filly none but he had ridden. So he abated her
maidenhead and had of her amorous delight and there was knitted between
them a love-bond which might never know breach nor severance.[478] He
rained upon her cheeks kisses like the falling of pebbles into water,
and struck with stroke upon stroke, like the thrusting of spears in
battle brunt; for that Nur al-Din still yearned after clipping of necks
and sucking of lips and letting down of tress and pressing of waist and
biting of cheek and cavalcading on breast with Cairene buckings and
Yamani wrigglings and Abyssinian sobbings and Hindí pamoisons and Nubian
lasciviousness and Rífí leg-liftings[479] and Damiettan moanings and
Sa’ídí[480] hotness and Alexandrian languishment[481] and this damsel
united in herself all these virtues, together with excess of beauty and
loveliness, and indeed she was even as saith of her the poet:—
This is she I will never forget till I die ✿ Nor draw near but to those
who to her draw nigh.
A being for semblance like Moon at full ✿ Praise her Maker, her Modeller
glorify!
Tho’ be sore my sin seeking love-liesse, ✿ On esperance-day ne’er repent
can I;
A couplet reciting which none can know ✿ Save the youth who in couplets
and rhymes shall cry,
“None weeteth love but who bears its load ✿ Nor passion, save pleasures
and pains he aby.”
So Nur al-Din lay with the damsel through the night in solace and
delight,——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-fifth Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din lay
with that damsel through the night in solace and delight, the twain
garbed in the closely buttoned garments of embrace, safe and secure
against the misways of nights and days, and they passed the dark hours
after the goodliest fashion, fearing naught, in their joys love-fraught,
from excess of talk and prate. As saith of them the right excellent
poet[482]:—
Go, visit her thou lovest, and regard not
The words detractors utter; envious churls
Can never favour love. Oh! sure the merciful
Ne’er make a thing more fair to look upon,
Then two fond lovers in each other’s arms,
Speaking their passion in a mute embrace.
When heart has turned to heart, the fools would part them
Strike idly on cold steel. So when thou’st found
One purely, wholly thine, accept her true heart,
And live for her alone. Oh! thou that blamest
The love-struck for their love, give o’er thy talk
How canst thou minister to a mind diseased?
When the morning morrowed in sheen and shone, Nur al-Din awoke from deep
sleep and found that she had brought water:[483] so they made the
Ghusl-ablution, he and she, and he performed that which behoved him of
prayer to his Lord, after which she set before him meat and drink, and
he ate and drank. Then the damsel put her hand under her pillow and
pulling out the girdle which she had knitted during the night, gave it
to Nur al-Din, who asked, “Whence cometh this girdle?”[484] Answered
she, “O my lord, ’tis the silk thou boughtest yesterday for twenty
dirhams. Rise now and go to the Persian bazar and give it to the broker,
to cry for sale, and sell it not for less than twenty gold pieces in
ready money.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “O Princess of fair ones how can a
thing, that cost twenty dirhams and will sell for as many dinars, be
made in a single night?”; and quoth she, “O my lord, thou knowest not
the value of this thing; but go to the market therewith and give it to
the broker, and when he shall cry it, its worth will be made manifest to
thee.” Herewith he carried the zone to the market and gave it to the
broker, bidding him cry it, whilst he himself sat down on a masonry
bench before a shop. The broker fared forth and returning after a while
said to him, “O my lord, rise take the price of thy zone, for it hath
fetched twenty dinars money down.” When Nur al-Din heard this, he
marvelled with exceeding marvel and shook with delight. Then he rose,
between belief and misbelief, to take the money and when he had received
it, he went forthright and spent it all on silk of various colours and
returning home, gave his purchase to the damsel, saying, “Make this all
into girdles and teach me likewise how to make them, that I may work
with thee; for never in the length of my life saw I a fairer craft than
this craft nor a more abounding in gain and profit. By Allah, ’tis
better than the trade of a merchant a thousand times!” She laughed at
his language and said, “O my lord, go to thy friend the druggist and
borrow other thirty dirhams of him, and to-morrow repay him from the
price of the girdle the thirty together with the fifty already loaned to
thee.” So he rose and repaired to the druggist and said to him, “O
Uncle, lend me other thirty dirhams, and to-morrow, Almighty Allah
willing, I will repay thee the whole fourscore.” The old man weighed him
out thirty dirhams, wherewith he went to the market and buying meat and
bread, dried fruits, and flowers as before, carried them home to the
damsel whose name was Miriam,[485] the Girdle-girl. She rose forthright
and making ready rich meats, set them before her lord Nur al-Din; after
which she brought the wine-service and they drank and plied each other
with drink. When the wine began to play with their wits, his pleasant
address and inner grace pleased her, and she recited these two
couplets:—
Said I to Slim-waist who the wine engraced ✿ Brought in musk-scented
bowl and a superfine,
“Was it prest from thy cheek?” He replied “Nay, nay! ✿ When did man from
Roses e’er press the Wine?”
And the damsel ceased not to carouse with her lord and ply him with cup
and bowl and require him to fill for her and give her to drink of that
which sweeteneth the spirits, and whenever he put forth hand to her, she
drew back from him, out of coquetry. The wine added to her beauty and
loveliness, and Nur al-Din recited these two couplets:
Slim-waist craved wine from her companeer; ✿ Cried (in meeting of
friends when he feared for his fere,)
“An thou pass not the wine thou shalt pass the night, ✿ A-banisht my
bed!” And he felt sore fear.
They ceased not drinking till drunkenness overpowered Nur al-Din and he
slept; whereupon she rose forthright and fell to work upon a zone, as
was her wont. When she had wrought it to end, she wrapped it in paper
and doffing her clothes, lay down by his side and enjoyed dalliance and
delight till morn appeared.——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-sixth Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Miriam the
Girdle-girl, having finished her zone and wrapped it in paper doffed her
dress and lay down by the side of her lord; and then happened to them
what happened of dalliance and delight; and he did his devoir like a
man. On the morrow, she gave him the girdle and said to him, “Carry this
to the market and sell it for twenty dinars, even as thou soldest its
fellow yesterday.” So he went to the bazar and sold the girdle for
twenty dinars, after which he repaired to the druggist and paid him back
the eighty dirhams, thanking him for his bounties and calling down
blessings upon him. He asked, “O my son, hast thou sold the damsel?”;
and Nur al-Din answered, “Wouldst thou have me sell the soul out of my
body?” and told him all that had passed, from commencement to
conclusion, whereat the druggist joyed with joy galore, than which could
be no more and said to him, “By Allah, O my son, thou gladdenest me!
Inshallah, mayst thou ever be in prosperity! Indeed I wish thee well by
reason of my affection for thy father and the continuance of my
friendship with him.” Then Nur al-Din left the Shaykh and straightway
going to the market, bought meat and fruit and wine and all that he
needed according to his custom and returned therewith to Miriam. They
abode thus a whole year in eating and drinking and mirth and merriment
and love and good comradeship, and every night she made a zone and he
sold it on the morrow for twenty dinars, wherewith he bought their needs
and gave the rest to her, to keep against a time of necessity. After the
twelvemonth she said to him one day, “O my lord, whenas thou sellest the
girdle to-morrow, buy for me with its price silk of six colours, because
I am minded to make thee a kerchief to wear on thy shoulders, such as
never son of merchant, no, nor King’s son, ever rejoiced in its like.”
So next day he fared forth to the bazar and after selling the zone
brought her the dyed silks she sought and Miriam the Girdle-girl wrought
at the Kerchief a whole week, for, every night, when she had made an end
of the zone, she would work awhile at the kerchief till it was finished.
Then she gave it to Nur al-Din, who put it on his shoulders and went out
to walk in the market-place, whilst all the merchants and folk and
notables of the town crowded about him, to gaze on his beauty and that
of the kerchief which was of the most beautiful. Now it chanced that one
night, after this, he awoke from sleep and found Miriam weeping passing
sore and reciting these couplets:—
Nears my parting fro’ my love, nigher draws the Severance-day ✿ Ah
well-away for parting! and again ah well-away!
And in tway is torn my heart and O pine I’m doomed to bear ✿ For the
nights that erst witnessèd our pleasurable play!
No help for it but Envier the twain of us espy ✿ With evil eye and win
to us his lamentable way.
For naught to us is sorer than the jealousy of men ✿ And the backbiter’s
eyne that with calumny affray.
He said, “O my lady Miriam,[486] what aileth thee to weep?”; and she
replied, “I weep for the anguish of parting for my heart presageth me
thereof.” Quoth he, “O lady of fair ones, and who shall interpose
between us, seeing that I love thee above all creatures and tender thee
the most?”; and quoth she, “And I love thee twice as well as thou me;
but fair opinion of fortune still garreth folk fall into affliction, and
right well saith the poet[487]:—
Think’st thou thyself all prosperous, in days which prosp’rous be,
Nor fearest thou impending ill, which comes by Heaven’s decree?
We see the orbs of heav’n above, how numberless they are,
But sun and moon alone eclips’d, and ne’er a lesser star!
And many a tree on earth we see, some bare, some leafy green,
Of them, not one is hurt with stone save that has fruitful been!
See’st not th’ refluent ocean, bear carrion on its tide,
While pearls beneath its wavy flow, fixed in the deep, abide?”
Presently she added, “O my lord Nur al-Din, an thou desire to nonsuit
separation, be on thy guard against a swart-visaged oldster, blind of
the right eye and lame of the left leg; for he it is who will be the
cause of our severance. I saw him enter the city and I opine that he is
come hither in quest of me.” Replied Nur al-Din, “O lady of fair ones,
if my eyes light on him, I will slay him and make an example of him.”
Rejoined she, “O my lord, slay him not; but talk not nor trade with him,
neither buy nor sell with him nor sit nor walk with him nor speak one
word to him, no, not even the answer prescribed by law[488] and I pray
Allah to preserve us from his craft and his mischief?” Next morning, Nur
al-Din took the zone and carried it to the market, where he sat down on
a shop-bench and talked with the sons of the merchants, till the
drowsiness preceding slumber overcame him and he lay down on the bench
and fell asleep. Presently, behold, up came the Frank whom the damsel
had described to him, in company with seven others, and seeing Nur
al-Din lying asleep on the bench, with his head wrapped in the kerchief
which Miriam had made for him and the edge thereof in his grasp, sat
down by him and hent the end of the kerchief in hand and examined it
turning it over for some time. Nur al-Din sensed that there was
something and awoke; then, seeing the very man of whom Miriam had warned
him sitting by his side, cried out at him with a great cry which
startled him. Quoth the Frank, “What aileth thee to cry out thus at us?
Have we taken from thee aught?”; and quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, O
accursed, haddest thou taken aught from me, I would carry thee before
the Chief of Police!” Then said the Frank, “O Moslem, I conjure thee by
thy faith and by that wherein thou believest, inform me whence thou
haddest this kerchief;” and Nur al-Din replied, “’Tis the handiwork of
my lady mother,”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
saying her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-seventh Night,
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Frank
asked Nur al-Din anent the maker of the kerchief, he answered, saying,
“In very sooth this kerchief is the handiwork of my mother, who made it
for me with her own hand.” Quoth the Frank, “Wilt thou sell it to me and
take ready money for it?” and quoth Nur al-Din, “By Allah, I will not
sell it to thee or to any else, for she made none other than it.” “Sell
it to me and I will give thee to its price this very moment five hundred
dinars, money down; and let her who made it make thee another and a
finer.” “I will not sell it at all, for there is not the like of it in
this city.” “O my lord, wilt thou sell it for six hundred ducats of fine
gold?” And the Frank went on to add to his offer hundred by hundred,
till he bid nine hundred dinars; but Nur al-Din said, “Allah will open
to me otherwise than by my vending it. I will never sell it, not for two
thousand dinars nor more than that; no, never.” The Frank ceased not to
tempt him with money, till he bid him a thousand dinars, and the
merchants present said, “We sell thee the kerchief at that price:[489]
pay down the money.” Quoth Nur al-Din, “I will not see it, I swear by
Allah!”[490] But one of the merchants said to him, “Know thou, O my son,
that the value of this kerchief is an hundred dinars at most and that to
an eager purchaser, and if this Frank pay thee down a thousand for it,
thy profit will be nine hundred dinars, and what gain canst thou desire
greater than this gain? Wherefore ’tis my rede that thou sell him this
kerchief at that price and bid her who wrought it make thee other finer
than it: so shalt thou profit nine hundred dinars by this accursed
Frank, the enemy of Allah and of The Faith.” Nur al-Din was abashed at
the merchants and sold the kerchief to the Frank, who, in their
presence, paid him down the thousand dinars, with which he would have
returned to his handmaid to congratulate her on what had passed; but the
stranger said, “Harkye, O company of merchants, stop my lord Nur al-Din,
for you and he are my guests this night. I have a jar of old Greek wine
and a fat lamb, fresh fruit, flowers and confections; wherefore do ye
all cheer me with your company to-night and not one of you tarry
behind.” So the merchants said, “O my lord Nur al-Din, we desire that
thou be with us on the like of this night, so we may talk together, we
and thou, and we pray thee, of thy favour and bounty, to bear us
company, so we and thou, may be the guests of this Frank, for he is a
liberal man.” And they conjured him by the oath of divorce[491] and
hindered him by main force from going home. Then they rose forthright
and shutting up their shops, took Nur al-Din and fared with the Frank,
who brought them to a goodly and spacious saloon, wherein were two
daïses. Here he made them sit and set before them a scarlet tray-cloth
of goodly workmanship and unique handiwork, wroughten in gold with
figures of breaker and broken, lover and beloved, asker and asked,
whereon he ranged precious vessels of porcelain and crystal, full of the
costliest confections, fruits and flowers, and brought them a flagon of
old Greek wine. Then he bade slaughter a fat lamb and kindling fire,
proceeded to roast of its flesh and feed the merchants therewith and
give them draughts of that wine, winking at them the while to ply Nur
al-Din with drink. Accordingly they ceased not plying him with wine till
he became drunken and took leave of his wits; so when the Frank saw that
he was drowned in liquor, he said to him, “O my lord Nur al-Din, thou
gladdenest us with thy company to-night: welcome, and again welcome to
thee?” Then he engaged him awhile in talk, till he could draw near to
him, when he said, with dissembling speech, “O my lord, Nur al-Din, wilt
thou sell me thy slave-girl, whom thou boughtest in presence of these
merchants a year ago for a thousand dinars? I will give thee at this
moment five thousand gold pieces for her and thou wilt thus make four
thousand ducats profit.” Nur al-Din refused, but the Frank ceased not to
ply him with meat and drink and lure him with lucre, still adding to his
offers, till he bid him ten thousand dinars for her; whereupon Nur
al-Din, in his drunkenness, said before the merchants, “I sell her to
thee for ten thousand dinars: hand over the money.” At this the Frank
rejoiced with joy exceeding and took the merchants to witness the sale.
They passed the night in eating and drinking, mirth and merriment, till
the morning, when the Frank cried out to his pages, saying, “Bring me
the money.” So they brought it to him and he counted out ten thousand
dinars to Nur al-Din, saying, “O my lord, take the price of thy
slave-girl, whom thou soldest to me last night, in the presence of these
Moslem merchants.” Replied Nur al-Din, “O accursed, I sold thee nothing
and thou liest anent me, for I have no slave-girls.” Quoth the Frank,
“In very sooth thou didst sell her to me and these merchants were
witnesses to the bargain.” Thereupon all said, “Yes, indeed! thou
soldest him thy slave-girl before us for ten thousand dinars, O Nur
al-Din and we will all bear witness against thee of the sale. Come, take
the money and deliver him the girl, and Allah will give thee a better
than she in her stead. Doth it irk thee, O Nur al-Din, that thou
boughtest the girl for a thousand dinars and hast enjoyed for a year and
a half her beauty and loveliness and taken thy fill of her converse and
her favours? Furthermore thou hast gained some ten thousand golden
dinars by the sale of the zones which she made thee every day and thou
soldest for twenty sequins, and after all this thou hast sold her again
at a profit of nine thousand dinars over and above her original price.
And withal thou deniest the sale and belittlest and makest difficulties
about the profit! What gain is greater than this gain and what profit
wouldst thou have profitabler than this profit? An thou love her thou
hast had thy fill of her all this time: so take the money and buy thee
another handsomer than she; or we will marry thee to one of our
daughters, lovelier than she, at a dowry of less than half this price,
and the rest of the money will remain in thy hand as capital.” And the
merchants ceased not to ply him with persuasion and specious arguments
till he took the ten thousand dinars, the price of the damsel, and the
Frank straightway fetched Kazis and witnesses, who drew up the contract
of sale by Nur al-Din of the handmaid hight Miriam the Girdle-girl. Such
was his case; but as regards the damsel’s, she sat awaiting her lord
from morning till sundown and from sundown till the noon of night; and
when he returned not, she was troubled and wept with sore weeping. The
old druggist heard her sobbing and sent his wife, who went in to her and
finding her in tears, said to her, “O my lady, what aileth thee to
weep?” Said she, “O my mother, I have sat waiting the return of my lord,
Nur al-Din all day; but he cometh not, and I fear lest some one have
played a trick on him, to make him sell me, and he have fallen into the
snare and sold me.”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased
to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Seventy-eighth Night,
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Miriam the
Girdle-girl said to the druggist’s wife, “I am fearful lest some one
have been playing a trick on my lord to make him sell me, and he have
fallen into the snare and sold me.” Said the other, “O my lady Miriam,
were they to give thy lord this hall full of gold as thy price, yet
would he not sell thee, for what I know of his love to thee. But, O my
lady, belike there be a company come from his parents at Cairo and he
hath made them an entertainment in the lodging where they alighted,
being ashamed to bring them hither, for that the place is not spacious
enough for them or because their condition is less than that he should
bring them to his own house; or belike he preferred to conceal thine
affair from them, so passed the night with them; and Inshallah!
to-morrow he will come to thee safe and sound. So burden not thy soul
with cark and care, O my lady, for of a certainty this is the cause of
his absence from thee last night and I will abide with thee this coming
night and comfort thee, until thy lord return to thee.” So the
druggist’s wife abode with her and cheered her with talk throughout the
dark hours and, when it was morning, Miriam saw her lord enter the
street followed by the Frank and amiddlemost a company of merchants, at
which sight her side-muscles quivered and her colour changed and she
fell a-shaking, as ship shaketh in mid-ocean for the violence of the
gale. When the druggist’s wife saw this, she said to her, “O my lady
Miriam what aileth thee that I see thy case changed and thy face grown
pale and show disfeatured?” Replied she, “By Allah, O my lady, my heart
forebodeth me of parting and severance of union!” And she bemoaned
herself with the saddest sighs, reciting these couplets[492]:—
Incline not to parting, I pray; ✿ For bitter its savour is aye.
E’en the sun at his setting turns pale ✿ To think he must part from the
day;
And so, at his rising, for joy ✿ Of reunion, he’s radiant and gay.
Then Miriam wept passing sore wherethan naught could be more, making
sure of separation, and cried to the druggist’s wife, “O my mother, said
I not to thee that my lord Nur al-Din had been tricked into selling me?
I doubt not but he hath sold me this night to yonder Frank, albeit I
bade him beware of him; but deliberation availeth not against destiny.
So the truth of my words is made manifest to thee.” Whilst they were
talking, behold, in came Nur al-Din, and the damsel looked at him and
saw that his colour was changed and that he trembled and there appeared
on his face signs of grief and repentance: so she said to him, “O my
lord Nur al-Din, meseemeth thou hast sold me.” Whereupon he wept with
sore weeping and groaned and lamented and recited these couplets[493]:—
When e’er the Lord ’gainst any man,
Would fulminate some harsh decree,
And he be wise, and skilled to hear,
And used to see;
He stops his ears, and blinds his heart,
And from his brain ill judgment tears,
And makes it bald as ’twere a scalp,
Reft of its hairs[494];
Until the time when the whole man
Be pierced by this divine command;
Then He restores him intellect
To understand.
Then Nur al-Din began to excuse himself to his handmaid, saying, “By
Allah, O my lady Miriam, verily runneth the Reed with whatso Allah hath
decreed. The folk put a cheat on me to make me sell thee, and I fell
into the snare and sold thee. Indeed I have sorely failed of my duty to
thee; but haply He who decreed our disunion will vouchsafe us reunion.”
Quoth she, “I warned thee against this, for this it was I dreaded.” Then
she strained him to her bosom and kissed him between the eyes, reciting
these couplets:—
Now, by your love! your love I’ll ne’er forget, ✿ Though lost my life
for stress of pine and fret:
I weep and wail through livelong day and night ✿ As moans the dove on
sandhill-tree beset.
O fairest friends, your absence spoils my life; ✿ Nor find I
meeting-place as erst we met.