asked them, “Have ye locked the door?”; and they answered, “Indeed we
have locked it.” So she took them and went with them to a place called
the Chapel of the Lady Mary the Virgin, Mother of Light, because the
Nazarenes hold that there are her heart and soul. The girls betook
themselves to prayer for blessings from above and circuited all the
church; and when they had made an end of their visitation, the Princess
turned to them and said, “I desire to pass the night alone in the
Virgin’s chapel and seek a blessing thereof, for that yearning after it
hath betided me, by reason of my long absence in the land of the
Moslems; and as for you, when ye have made an end of your visitation, do
ye sleep whereso ye will.” Replied they, “With love and goodly gree: be
it as thou wilt!”; and leaving her alone in the chapel, dispersed about
the church and slept. The Lady Miriam waited till they were out of sight
and hearing, then went in search of Nur al-Din, whom she found sitting
in a corner on live coals, awaiting her. He rose and kissed her hands
and feet and she sat down and seated him by her side. Then she pulled
off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and fine linen and
taking Nur al-Din in her arms strained him to her bosom. And they ceased
not, she and he, from kissing and clipping and strumming to the tune of
“hocus-pocus,[523]” saying the while, “How short are the nights of Union
and the nights of Disunion how long are they!” and reciting these
verses:—
O Night of Union, Time’s virginal prize, ✿ White star of the Nights with
auroral dyes,
Thou garrest Dawn after Noon to rise ✿ Say art thou Kohl in Morning’s
Eyes,
Or wast thou Slumber to bleared eye lief?
O Night of Parting, how long thy stay ✿ Whose latest hours aye the first
portray,
This endless circle that noways may ✿ Show breach till the coming of
Judgment-day,
Day when dies the lover of parting-grief.[524]
As they were in this mighty delight and joy engrossing they heard one of
the servants of the Saint[525] smite the gong[526] upon the roof, to
call the folk to the rites of their worship, and he was even as saith
the poet: —
I saw him strike the gong and asked of him straightway, ✿ “Who made the
Fawn[527] at striking gong so knowing, eh?”
And to my soul, “What smiting irketh thee the more ✿ Striking the gong
or striking note of going,[528] say?”
——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her
permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-third Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Nur al-Din and
Miriam the Girdle-girl rose forthwith and donned her clothes and
ornaments; but this was grievous to Nur al-Din, and his gladness was
troubled; the tears streamed from his eyes and he recited these
couplets:—
I ceasèd not to kiss that cheek with budding roses dight ✿ And eyes down
cast and bit the same with most emphatic bite;
Until we were _in gloria_[529] and lay him down the spy ✿ And sank his
eyes within his brain declining further sight:
And struck the gongs as they that had the charge of them were like ✿
Muezzin crying duty-prayers in Allah’s book indite.
Then rose she up right hastily and donned the dress she’d doffed ✿ Sore
fearing lest a shooting-star[530] upon our heads alight.
And cried, “O wish and will of me, O end of all my hopes! ✿ Behold the
morning comes to us in brightest whitest light.”
I swear if but one day of rule were given to my life ✿ And I were made
an Emperor of majesty and might,
Adown I’d break the buttresses of churches one and all ✿ And by their
slaughter rid the earth of every shaveling wight.
Then the Lady Miriam pressed him to her bosom and kissed his cheek and
asked him, “O Nur al-Din, how long hast thou been in this town?” “Seven
days.” “Hast thou walked about in it, and dost thou know its ways and
issues and its sea-gates and land gates?” “Yes!” “Knowest thou the way
to the offertory-chest[531] of the church?” “Yes!” “Since thou knowest
all this, as soon as the first third[532] of the coming night is over,
go to the offertory-chest and take thence what thou wishest and willest.
Then open the door that giveth upon the tunnel[533] leading to the sea,
and go down to the harbour, where thou wilt find a little ship and ten
men therein, and when the Rais shall see thee, he will put out his hand
to thee. Give him thy hand and he will take thee up into the ship, and
do thou wait there till I come to thee. But ’ware and have a care lest
sleep overtake thee this night, or thou wilt repent whenas repentance
shall avail thee naught.” Then the Princess farewelled him and going
forth from Nur al-Din, aroused from sleep her women and the rest of the
damsels, with whom she betook herself to the church door and knocked;
whereupon the ancient dame opened to her and she went forth and found
the knights and varlets standing without. They brought her a dapple
she-mule and she mounted: whereupon they raised over her head a
canopy[534] with curtains of silk, and the knights took hold of the
mule’s halter. Then the guards[535] encompassed her about drawn brand in
hand and fared on with her, followed by her, till they brought her to
the palace of the King her father. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din abode concealed
behind the curtain, under cover of which Miriam and he had passed the
night till it was broad day, when the main door was opened and the
church became full of people. Then he mingled with the folk and accosted
the old Prioress, the guardian[536] of the shrine, who said to him,
“Where didst thou lie last night?” Said he, “In the town as thou badest
me.” Quoth she, “O my son, thou hast done the right thing; for, hadst
thou nighted in the Church, she had slain thee on the foulest wise.” And
quoth he, “Praised be Allah who hath delivered me from the evil of this
night!” Then he busied himself with the service of the church and ceased
not busying till day departed and night with darkness starkened when he
arose and opened the offertory-chest and took thence of jewels whatso
was light of weight and weighty of worth. Then he tarried till the first
watch of the night was past, when he made his way to the postern of the
tunnel and opening it, went forth, calling on Allah for protection, and
ceased not faring on until, after finding and opening the door, he came
to the sea. Here he discovered the vessel moored to the shore near the
gate; and her skipper, a tall old man of comely aspect with a long
beard, standing in the waist, his ten men being ranged before him. Nur
al-Din gave him his hand, as Miriam had bidden him, and the captain took
it and pulling him on board of the ship cried out to his crew, saying,
“Cast off the moorings and put out to sea with us, ere day break.” Said
one of the ten, “O my lord the Captain, how shall we put out now, when
the King hath notified us that to-morrow he will embark in this ship and
go round about the sea, being fearful for his daughter Miriam from the
Moslem thieves?” But the Rais cried out at them saying, “Woe to you, O
accursed; Dare ye gainsay me and bandy words with me?” So saying the old
captain bared his blade and with it dealt the sailor who had spoken a
thrust in the throat, that the steel came out gleaming from his nape,
and quoth another of the sailors, “What hath our comrade done of crime,
that thou shouldst cut his throat?” Thereupon the captain clapped hand
to sword and smote off the speaker’s head, nor did he leave smiting the
rest of the sailors, till he had slain them all, one after other, and
cast the ten bodies ashore. Then he turned to Nur al-Din and cried out
at him with a terrible great cry, that made him tremble, saying, “Go
down and pull up the mooring-stake.” Nur al-Din feared lest he should
strike him also with the sword; so he sprang up and leapt ashore and
pulling up the stake jumped aboard again, swiftlier than the dazzling
leven. The captain ceased not to bid him do this and do that and tack
and wear hither and thither and look at the stars, and Nur al-Din did
all that he bade him, with heart a-quaking for affright; whilst he
himself spread the sails, and the ship fared with the twain into the
dashing sea, swollen with clashing billows.——And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-fourth Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the old
skipper had made sail he drave the ship, aided by Nur al-Din, into the
dashing sea before a favouring gale. Meanwhile, Nur al-Din held on to
the tackle immersed in deep thought, and drowned in the sea of
solicitude, knowing not what was hidden for him in the future; and
whenever he looked at the captain, his heart quaked and he knew not
whither the Rais went with him. He abode thus, preoccupied with care and
doubt, till it was high day, when he looked at the skipper and saw him
take hold of his long beard and pull at it, whereupon it came off in his
hand and Nur al-Din, examining it, saw that it was but a false beard
glued on. So he straitly considered that same Rais, and behold, it was
the Princess Miriam, his mistress and the dearling of his heart, who had
contrived to waylay the captain and slay him and skinned off his beard,
which she had stuck on to her own face. At this Nur al-Din was
transported for joy, and his breast broadened and he marvelled at her
prowess and the stoutness of her heart and said to her, “Welcome, O my
hope and my desire and the end of mine every wish!” Then love and
gladness agitated him and he made sure of winning to his hopes and his
expectancy; wherefore he broke out into song and chanted these
couplets:—
To all who unknown my love for the May ✿ From whom Fate disjoins me O
say, I pray,
“Ask my kith and kin of my love that aye ✿ Ensweetens my verses to
lovely lay:
For the loss of the tribesmen my life o’er sway!”
Their names when named heal all malady; ✿ Cure and chase from heart
every pain I dree:
And my longings for love reach so high degree ✿ That my Sprite is
maddened each morn I see,
And am grown of the crowd to be saw and say.
No blame in them will I e’er espy: ✿ No! nor aught of solace sans them
descry:
Your love hath shot me with pine, and I ✿ Bear in heart a flame that
shall never die,
But fire my liver with fiery ray.
All folk my sickness for marvel score ✿ That in darkest night I wake
evermore
What ails them to torture this heart forlore ✿ And deem right for loving
my blood t’ outpour:
And yet—how justly unjust are they!
Would I wot who ’twas could obtain of you ✿ To wrong a youth who’s so
fain of you:
By my life and by Him who made men of you ✿ And the spy tell aught I
complain of you
He lies, by Allah, in foulest way!
May the Lord my sickness never dispel, ✿ Nor ever my heart of its pains
be well,
What day I regret that in love I fell ✿ Or laud any land but wherein ye
dwell:
Wring my heart and ye will or make glad and gay!
I have vitals shall ever be true to you ✿ Though racked by the rigours
not new to you
Ere this wrong and this right I but sue to you: ✿ Do what you will to
thrall who to you
Shall ne’er grudge his life at your feet to lay.
When Nur al-Din ceased to sing, the Princess Miriam marvelled at his
song and thanked him therefor, saying, “Whoso’s case is thus it behoveth
him to walk the ways of men and never do the deed of curs and cowards.”
Now she was stout of heart and cunning in the sailing of ships over the
salt sea, and she knew all the winds and their shiftings and every
course of the main. So Nur al-Din said, “O my lady, hadst thou prolonged
this case on me,[537] I had surely died for stress of affright and
chagrin, more by token of the fire of passion and love-longing and the
cruel pangs of separation.” She laughed at his speech and rising without
stay or delay brought out somewhat of food and liquor; and they ate and
drank and enjoyed themselves and made merry. Then she drew forth rubies
and other gems and precious stones and costly trinkets of gold and
silver and all manner things of price, light of weight and weighty of
worth, which she had taken from the palace of her sire and his
treasuries, and displayed them to Nur al-Din, who rejoiced therein with
joy exceeding. All this while the wind blew fair for them and merrily
sailed the ship nor ceased sailing till they drew near the city of
Alexandria and sighted its landmarks, old and new, and Pompey’s Pillar.
When they made the port Nur al-Din landed forthright and securing the
ship to one of the Fulling-Stones,[538] took somewhat of the treasures
that Miriam had brought with her, and said to her, “O my lady, tarry in
the ship, against I return and carry thee up into the city in such way
as I should wish and will.” Quoth she, “It behoveth that this be done
quickly, for tardiness in affairs engendereth repentance.” Quoth he,
“There is no tardiness in me;” and, leaving her in the ship, went up
into the city to the house of the druggist his father’s old friend, to
borrow of his wife for Miriam veil and mantilla, and walking boots and
petticoat-trousers after the usage of the women of Alexandria, unknowing
that there was appointed to betide him of the shifts of Time, the Father
of Wonders, that which was far beyond his reckoning. Thus it befel Nur
al-Din and Miriam the Girdle-girl; but as regards her sire the King of
France, when he arose in the morning, he missed his daughter and
questioned her women and her eunuchs of her. Answered they, “O our lord,
she went out last night, to go to Church and after that we have no
tidings of her.” But, as the King talked with them, behold, there arose
so great a clamour of cries below the palace, that the place rang
thereto, and he said, “What may be the news?” The folk replied, “O King,
we have found ten men slain on the sea-shore, and the royal yacht is
missing. Moreover we saw the postern of the Church, which giveth upon
the tunnel leading to the sea, wide open; and the Moslem prisoner, who
served in the Church, is missing.” Quoth the King, “An my ship be lost,
without doubt or dispute.”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and
ceased saying her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-fifth Night,
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the King
of France missed his daughter they brought him tidings of her, saying,
“Thy yacht is lost”; and he replied, “An the craft be lost, without
dispute or doubt my daughter is in it.” So he summoned without stay or
delay the Captain of the Port and cried out at him, saying, “By the
virtue[1] of the Messiah and the Faith which is no liar, except thou and
thy fighting men overtake my ship forthright and bring it back to me,
with those who are therein, I will do thee die the foulest of deaths and
make a terrible example of thee!” Thereupon the captain went out from
before him, trembling, and betook himself to the ancient dame of the
Church, to whom said he, “Heardest thou aught from the captive, that was
with thee, anent his native land and what countryman he was?”[539] And
she answered, “He used to say, I come from the town of Alexandria.” When
the captain heard the old woman’s words he returned forthright to the
port and cried out to the sailors, “Make ready and set sail.” So they
did his bidding and straightway putting out to sea, fared night and day
till they sighted the city of Alexandria at the very time when Nur
al-Din landed, leaving the Princess in the ship. They soon espied the
royal yacht and knew her; so they moored their own vessel at a distance
therefrom and putting off in a little frigate they had with them, which
drew but two cubits of water and in which were an hundred fighting-men,
amongst them the one-eyed Wazir (for that he was a stubborn tyrant and a
froward devil and a wily thief, none could avail against his craft, as
he were Abu Mohammed al-Battál[540]), they ceased not rowing till they
reached the bark and boarding her, all at once, found none therein save
the Princess Miriam. So they took her and the ship, and returning to
their own vessel, after they had landed and waited a long while,[541]
set sail forthright for the land of the Franks, having accomplished
their errand, without a fight or even drawing sword. The wind blew fair
for them and they sailed on, without ceasing and with all diligence,
till they reached the city of France and landing with the Princess
Miriam carried her to her father, who received her, seated on the throne
of his Kingship. As soon as he saw her, he said to her, “Woe to thee, O
traitress! What ailed thee to leave the faith of thy fathers and
forefathers and the safeguard of the Messiah, on whom is our reliance,
and follow after the faith of the Vagrants,[542] to wit, the faith of
Al-Islam, the which arose with the sword against the Cross and the
Images?” Replied Miriam, “I am not at fault, I went out by night to the
church, to visit the Lady Mary and seek a blessing of her, when there
fell upon me unawares a band of Moslem robbers, who gagged me and bound
me fast and carrying me on board the barque, set sail with me for their
own country. However, I beguiled them and talked with them of their
religion, till they loosed my bonds; and ere I knew it thy men overtook
me and delivered me. And by the virtue of the Messiah and the Faith
which is no liar and the Cross and the Crucified thereon, I rejoiced
with joy exceeding in my release from them and my bosom broadened and I
was glad for my deliverance from the bondage of the Moslems!” Rejoined
the King, “Thou liest, O whore! O adultress! By the virtue of that which
is revealed of prohibition and permission in the manifest Evangel,[543]
I will assuredly do thee die by the foulest of deaths and make thee the
vilest of examples! Did it not suffice thee to do as thou didst the
first time and put off thy lies upon us, but thou must return upon us
with thy deceitful inventions?” Thereupon the King bade kill her and
crucify her over the palace gate; but, at that moment the one-eyed
Wazir, who had long been enamoured of the Princess, came in to him and
said, “Ho King! slay her not, but give her to me to wife, and I will
watch over her with the utmost warding, nor will I go in unto her, till
I have built her a palace of solid stone, exceeding high of foundation,
so no thieves may avail to climb up to its terrace-roof; and when I have
made an end of building it, I will sacrifice thirty Moslems before the
gate thereof, as an expiatory offering to the Messiah for myself and for
her.” The King granted his request and bade the priests and monks and
patriarchs marry the Princess to him; so they did his bidding, whereupon
he bade set about building a strong and lofty palace, befitting her rank
and the workmen fell to work upon it. On this wise it betided the
Princess Miriam and her sire and the one-eyed Wazir; but as regards Nur
al-Din, when he came back with the petticoat-trousers and mantilla and
walking boots and all the attire of Alexandrian women which he had
borrowed of the druggist’s wife, he “found the air void and the fane
afar[544]”;——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.
Now when it was the Eight Hundred and Eighty-sixth Night,
She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Nur
al-Din, “found the air void[545] and the fane afar,” his heart sank
within him and he wept floods of tears and recited these verses[546]:—
The phantom of Soada came by night to wake me towards morning while my
companions were sleeping in the desert:
But when we awoke to behold the nightly phantom, I saw the air vacant,
and the place of visitation distant.